Archive of Our Own

In retrospect, Taehyung knew, deep down inside, that going out to drink with his best friends perhaps wasn’t the most intellectual of ideas they’ve had—but he supposes it’s only natural to head out to a club when on a group trip to Las Vegas. 

‘It's our senior year of college, we have to let loose!’ is what Jimin had justified the impromptu vacation with—adamant on the fact that they needed to leave the country and do some exploring—as means to signify their official and permanent entrance into real world adulting, taxes, and jobs galore. And in the end, of course, as a good soulmate would—Taehyung couldn’t help but agree with the notion. He figured there wasn’t much inherently wrong with the plan his crazy best friend had concocted. 

Maybe apart from one minor, miniscule, trivial detail. 

Jeongguk, as an honorary member of their dazzling trio, would be going on the lovely excursion with them. 

And by god, was he not prepared for that—not in any way possible.

Apart from the glaringly obvious fact that Taehyung has had a more than incredibly severe crush on the boy since their freshman year, he’d never actually spent the night with him throughout their time in university—even in spite of their proclaimed best friend status. He and Jimin had always vowed to be each other’s roommates—while Jeongguk had stuck with Yoongi for the same reason, switching to Yugyeom when the former eventually graduated. Even at parties or hang outs—the occasion simply never arose. Either Jeongguk or he always had something to do, somewhere to be—and in the end, Taehyung merely chalked up their lack of sleepovers to being a busy university student. 

That being said of course—the trip, as fun as it’s been, has put Taehyung into some terribly compromising positions—none of which he’d been previously exposed to prior, nestled in the safety of their college. 

On their first day in Vegas together, Taehyung had the simultaneous pleasure and misfortune of being confronted with a very shirtless, fresh out of the shower Jeongguk—droplets of water rolling down his gloriously taute torso and fit abdomen, pooling low around his navel. His dark, damp hair was tousled wildly, and Taehyung thinks he might have inadvertently drooled at his tattooed bicep flexing as he dried himself with vigour. And on top of that, as if the view itself wasn’t enough torture for the latter, it certainly didn’t help when Jeongguk’s lips parted with enthusiasm, as he murmured a raspy ‘ Hey, Tae ’ to the older, blissfully unaware of the state of cardiac arrest he was sending the latter into. Taehyung thinks he handled the situation pretty smoothly, however—if his casual ‘ What’s up, Gguk?’ before nearly bolting out of the room was anything to judge by. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever been so flustered before. 

And, much to his chagrin, it didn’t exactly stop there. 

Waking up in the morning with his legs wound tightly around Jeongguk in an accidental cuddle, gazing at the defined muscles in his back when he younger cooked for both him and Jimin, having front row seats to watch him get dressed in his button up, tight black shirts when they decided to go out—these were all occurrences that Taehyung had never thought, even in his wildest dreams, he’d get to experience firsthand—and they were not doing anything at all to somehow, by some miracle, help him get over his feelings (that he’s sure the younger does not reciprocate). 

Nothing at all. 

So when the three of them decided to go clubbing, and Taehyung volunteered to remain mostly sober for the whole night, as means to watch over his friends—he knew that he’d be granted the task of being responsible for a whole other side of Jeongguk that he’s never had to tend to before. 

Namely drunk, clingy Jeongguk. 

The situation he’s found himself in is nearly laughable—straight out of a comedy, he thinks—with an intoxicated Jimin hanging off one arm and an equally as intoxicated Jeongguk hanging off the other, the two of them giggling like mad men in their befuddled haze. And while he’s all too acclimated with Jimin and his crazy, drunken antics—he has not a semblance of a clue on how to care for Jeongguk in this state. 

Which is why this entire affair, Taehyung thinks, is going to be a just splendid little learning curve for the two of them.

“Taehyungieeee,” Jimin slurs from his side as they walk towards their hotel room, stumbling in his steps as they go, “I wanna see Yoongi, please. Pleaseeee. ”

“You can call your boyfriend when we get back to the room,” Taehyung huffs, glancing down at the older. He’s completely out of it—though slightly less than Jeongguk—his orange hair mussed up completely, and his clothes reeking of tequila. “He’s probably worried about you anyways.” 

From the other side of him, Jeongguk pipes up—nearly yelling as he whines, “I n-need,” he hiccups, “a boyfriend, tooo. S’not fair that only Jiminie gets one. You gotta share. Sharing is caring.”

Oh my god, Taehyung thinks, tiredly, praying to whatever is up there that he can somehow survive the night. What have I gotten myself into? 

“Piss off,” Jimin responds, making a poor attempt of standing up angrily, “Don’t even think,” he bellows. Taehyung vaguely wonders if they’re going to get a noise complaint. He doesn’t think he has the energy to handle that, “about touching Yoongi. You have your own boyfriend. Shoo shoo.” 

Taehyung’s heart drops slightly at that, wondering if perhaps the younger had a secret lover that he didn’t know about. But before he can worry too much about it, Jeongguk cuts to the chase, “What,” he garbles, his eyes widening as he nearly slips from Taehyung’s grasp. The latter tightens his grip on the man. “what boyfriend. I didn’t know I had a boyfriend. You shoulda told me about them.”

“Mhmmm,” Jimin draws out in response, staggering in his walk, “he’s right he—oh,” he suddenly stops a couple feet away from the door, pausing the three of them in the hallway. With beady eyes, he looks up at Taehyung, “Uh oh. I think I’m gonna puke.” 

With the concerning remark, panic begins to settle in Taehyung’s mind as he drags them further along—picking up the pace drastically, “Oh no you’re not,” he mumbles under his breath, nearly letting the two of them fall as he stops in front of their hotel door, searching for the keycard in his pocket. The relief he feels when he finds it, the weight of two people beginning to crush his tiny arms, is unbelievable. “There,” he respires shakily as he pushes the two of them inside—careful to be a tad bit more gentle with Jeongguk, “in you both go.” 

It’s hard not to giggle when the two of them unceremoniously plop flat onto the bed—Jimin missing by just a hair and falling off the side, down onto the floor. Taehyung winces at the grunt he makes when he lands, but he’ll accept Jimin’s word of ‘Don’t worry, I’m okayyyyy,’ and the thumbs up he holds while face planting—too exhausted to show much concern. 

Taehyung takes a moment to breathe, letting himself slump over the desk in their room for a few seconds before moving to get Jimin up from off the floor—standing him up by the shoulders. He practically drags the older to the bathroom, content when he manages to situate the latter over the toilet bowl. 

As his best friend retches his guts out, Taehyung stares up at the ceiling as a means to distract himself from the horrid smell—contemplating the night he’d just been through. 

More specifically, how Jeongguk had acted tonight. 

What happened to him? 

His memories are hazy—partially blocked by the wonderful depressant that is alcohol—but he swears that something was slightly... off today with the younger male—even if they hadn’t spent the whole night together.  Sure, he’s never had to take care of Jeongguk post a raging night out—but he’s at least seen the man drink some at the dumb frat parties they frequented during university. He’s more on the heavyweight side—always being the friend to stay pretty coherent while everyone else was in shambles.

But tonight? Tonight, there was certainly something up with him. Tonight, it almost felt like Jeongguk was drinking to forget, to distract himself, to move on—or something akin to that—if the sheer volume of drinks he consumed was anything to go by. 

Taehyung sighs. He’d have to bring it up to the guy tomorrow, ask him how he’s doing, if everything’s okay. Maybe Jimin wasn’t lying about a supposed secret lover. Maybe he and them were having some issues. 

“I-I,” he hiccups, “think I’m good now,” his best friend croaks from beneath him after flushing the toilet, pulling himself back up slowly. Taehyung assists him carefully, brushing his hair back as he stands the older back up again, guiding him towards the sink. He does his best to clean Jimin off, splashing his face with water before leading him back to the bed, letting the older plop onto the plush sheets once more. 

Once he deems Jimin clean enough to sleep for the night, he turns towards the second bed where Jeongguk lays—checking over his state. He hasn’t moved an inch from where Taehyung last left him, and the latter isn’t sure if that frightens him, or relieves him. 

Nevertheless, Taehyung treks towards the younger, seating himself next to his dormant body. 

Jeongguk looks peaceful like this, his features relaxed and calm—his lips parted ever so slightly as his breathing slows to a slow, easy tempo, with his head lolling against the pillow on his chest. He’s drooling onto his shirt, Taehyung notes distantly—his eyes closed, brows creased slightly, looking so utterly undisturbed—as if he has not a care in the world. It’s all too endearing, if Taehyung’s being completely frank. 

He wishes Jeongguk would make it easier on him—make it easier to get over him before Taehyung falls even harder. 

Though deep down inside, he already knows it’s too late. His heart is Jeongguk’s—always will be, even if a romantic relationship between them never sees the light of day. 

Sighing softly, he shakes his head—as if trying to rid himself of his negative thoughts. Acting as a wonderful distraction, he reaches his fingers up to card through the younger’s long, tangled locks—working through the knots, quietly. “What’s on your mind today, Gguk?” He whispers to no one in particular, not expecting a response from either of the boys—who he presumes must be close to passing out, by now. 

He should’ve known, however, that the night’s surprises wouldn’t stop there. 

“Hmm,” Jeongguk mumbles with his eyes still closed, his head shifting slightly as he turns to look at Taehyung, “Jimin?” 

The call for his best friend as opposed to Taehyung undeniably stings—but he wills the bitterness away. He’s never taken care of Jeongguk like this. Of course he wouldn’t be searching for Taehyung in his drunken state. Perhaps his other best friend has. 

“Not Jimin,” Taehyung corrects gently, his voice soft—his hand still combing through Jeongguk’s hair. “He’s over there, if you need him.”

The younger opens his eyes. He squints slightly, adjusting to the light in the room, his eyes settling back on Taehyung, “Huh,” he mumbles, voice rough and heavy, sounding as though he hadn’t spoken in days—maybe weeks, “Not Jimin?”

“I’m Jiminie!” Jimin enthusiastically squeals from his place at the other side of the room, far too happy to be summoned, “That’s meeee!” 

Taehyung chuckles quietly at the craziness of his friends, fondly gazing at the both of them as they engage in their sudden conversation. He wonders if they know he’s even here, right now. 

“Oh, hello Jiminie,” Jeongguk snickers, grinning widely—though Taehyung can’t tell if his expression is one of happiness or of drunken delirium, “I need your help with something very important. Top secret information.” 

Taehyung’s ears perk up at that, his hand finally ceasing its movements on top of Jeongguk’s head. Top secret information? He ponders, his brow furrowing slightly. It’s probably nothing. He’s probably just babbling. 

“Ohhh,” Jimin draws out, rolling over on his bed to face the two of them, “what is it?” 

And Taehyung doesn’t know what exactly he’s expecting from a visibly maudlin Jeongguk, but he doesn’t think anything in the world could prepare him for the words that fall from the younger’s lips, ever so casually. 

“Can you help me propose?” Jeongguk requests bluntly—his words slurred and slow, yet somehow clear—like the moonlight reflecting off a lake in the middle of the summer.

His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Taehyung catches every single word regardless. He pauses, blinking rapidly to try and process what he’s hearing. 

What on Earth did he just say? 

A wave of sheer sadness hits Taehyung as the words register in his brain—the realization sinking in as his chest tightens painfully with fear. He feels like he might vomit, suddenly finding himself unable to speak—to breathe—to feel anything. No, he thinks, blinking back tears that have begun to form at the corner of his eyes—as if on autopilot. No, no, no. 

He didn’t know that Jeongguk even had a significant other—and now he wants to go as far as to marry them? 

Taehyung had already lost him? That long ago? And he had no idea? 

He can feel his hands shaking—his heart pounding erratically against his ribcage as he processes this newfound information. His breath hitches, heaving in deep breaths—his throat constricting with emotion.

Maybe he’s drunk. Maybe he’s drunk and he’s being stupid and incoherent and—

Despite his spiraling thoughts, Taehyung doesn’t dare open his mouth. He simply stares—stares at Jeongguk across from him for a moment longer, unable to find the words needed to address his declaration. 

“Did ya say something?” He’s thankful for Jimin’s interruption, his voice still groggy—any sign of sobering up nonexistent in the way he talks, “I can’t hear anything,” he screams into the pillow, his voice thankfully muffled by the fabric. 

Jeongguk groans at that—clearly annoyed at the prospect of repeating himself, but he speaks again, regardless. “I said,” he starts, sitting up from where he was last lying down, turning to face towards the older, “Can you pleaseeeee help me propose?” He mewls, lips jutting out into a far too kissable pout. 

And because heart attacks were commonplace at this point, Taehyung thinks he nearly dies for the 10th time today when Jeongguk tacks on the last words to the end of his plea. 

“To Taehyung? I needa propose to Taehyungie.”

What. 

Taehyung’s head spins—his eyes wide and unblinking, his mind blank, and his breath shaky as he tries to comprehend what the hell is going on amidst this night of whiplash. He feels faint all of a sudden, and he’s not sure whether it’s the alcohol that’s making his legs wobble under him—not sure if he even heard Jeongguk correctly. 

There’s no way. Absolutely no way. 

“Oh, you wanna propose to your boyfriend!” Jimin claps one hand excitedly against the bed, still face down into the sheets. Taehyung thinks he’s absolutely lost his mind. Him? Being Jeongguk’s boyfriend? Jeongguk proposing? Since when? “That’s cuteeee,” he sighs dreamily—before he begins to whine, “I wish Yoongi would ask me to get married.” 

Taehyung’s mouth is permanently agape, at this point—staring at the two in front of him, his thoughts running a mile a minute. He doesn’t know what’s happening here—thinks he has somehow ended up in a simulation, or an alternate universe of some sort. 

This can’t be real. 

“What?” Jeongguk practically hollers, the vexation so abruptly prominent in his voice—it makes Taehyung jump a little, “Taehyung is my boyfriend? Why did no one tell me?” He groans, his words ringing loud in the older’s ear, “I coulda been kissing him this whole time, and you hid it from me. You’re mean, Jimin. A meanie.”  

Taehyung genuinely thinks he’s two seconds away from passing out on the spot. 

Kissing? Jeongguk wants to kiss me?

His heart rate speeds up, his head throbbing—dizzy with emotion. 

He’s going to die. He’s going to die right here in this hotel room in Las Vegas because he has no idea what to do right now, what to think—what to feel. Jeongguk could be admitting to wanting to kiss him, sure—but it could just be drunken blabber, or solely based on physical attraction. 

It doesn’t mean he likes Taehyung. Of course not. Taehyung needs to calm down. 

“I tried telling you earlier, stupid head,” Jimin grumbles, his patience clearly wearing thin, “not my fault you don’t listen. You’re the meanie.”

The younger doesn’t take too kindly to the insult, huffing in offense. He crosses his arms, and Taehyung has to resist the urge to wrap the boy in a hug, “Hey—”

“—When do you wanna propose though?” Jimin cuts him off before he can go off on a tangent, raising a tired eyebrow. Taehyung is grateful for it. “In a couple of years?” 

“Mmmm,” Jeongguk cocks his head to the side, visibly deep in thought, “what about in 5 minutes?” 

It takes everything in Taehyung not to scream his lungs out at the circumstance he’s found himself in—because Jeongguk could very well be in an insane drunken stupor, could very well mean none of this in the morning—and he needs to not get his hopes up, needs to keep himself, keep his heart rate and his feelings at bay before it’s far too late. 

He watches as Jimin rolls onto his stomach once again, resting his head upon his folded arms, looking quite displeased—waiting for Jeongguk to finish musing aloud, seeming quite confident in his decision. 

“You can’t propose to him now, dumbass,” Jimin shakes his head leisurely—as if in slow motion, “You both are youngins. Little kiddos. And Taehyung deserves better. You gotta plan it.”

Taehyung is absolutely certain now that they forgot his presence in the room. He wonders, for a moment, if he should try and get their attention—if he should put an end to this conversation here and now, before his heart swells up further and he gets lost in the fantasy of Jeongguk—of being with him, of sharing a life together. 

He can’t bring himself to do it, however. Can’t bring himself to chase away the only shot he may have with the boy he loves. 

“But Jimin,” Jeongguk bleats, his arms flailing around in distress—as if he was utterly appalled by the older’s point, “I can’t wait anymore! I gotta propose to him now, before someone else snatches him up!” 

The statement causes Taehyung’s cheeks to heat up dramatically, his face burning as crimson as ever. His fingers drum restlessly against the mattress, his heart thumping hard in his chest—too fast, too painfully fast. Was he jealous? 

“Stupid. No one’s gonna steal him from you,” Jimin giggles cheekily, his nose scrunching up, “He’s tooooo obsessed with you for that to happen.”

Taehyung winces at the revelation of his secret—but he supposes it’s only fair. He isn’t exactly wrong. 

“Nooo, you don’t get it,” Jeongguk protests, his tone getting progressively more grave, “You should’ve seen the way people were staring at my Taehyung tonight,” he whispers, almost sadly—as if he couldn’t bear the idea of the older being with another person, “He barely paid attention to me. I need to propose now otherwise—”

There’s a moment of silence that transpires between the three of them, before Jeongguk takes a deep breath, mumbling. 

“Otherwise, m’gonna lose him before I even got him, Jimin.” 

And even if the admittance is potentially just intoxicated babble, it sets Taehyung’s heart alight with guilt like nothing else. He didn’t know—didn’t think for a second that Jeongguk would notice that he did do his best to avoid the younger male, tonight—trying his best to get over the man before the three of them went on to build their separate lives. Separate lives that include separate families, separate lovers. 

With this newfound information, everything makes sense—Jeongguk’s excessive drinking, his current behavior, his sudden desire to propose—all of it. 

Taehyung didn’t want to be heartbroken, of course—but he didn’t realize that his actions would hurt Jeongguk, too. 

Huh.

Jimin, unfortunately, doesn’t exactly seem to care much for Jeongguk’s sentiment—the alcohol making him far more blunt and honest than usual. “That’s not my problem,” he deadpans, though he’s still laughing like a mad man. Jeongguk glowers at his harshness. “That’s a you and Taehyungie problem. You gotta talk to him and figure it out yourself. There’s nothing to lose, ya know.” 

And the call out, though Taehyung is well aware that the older is a little less than rational at the current—makes the former stop in his tracks, makes him pause a moment to think as he tunes out Jeongguk’s incessant whining and Jimin’s scolding. 

Because inebriated Jimin, much to his dismay, did have a point. 

Taehyung never actually spoke to Jeongguk about his crush, nor did he ever hint at them. He always simply assumed that the younger never returned his feelings—could never return them, really—considering the platonic aura that always seemed to plague their friendship. Taehyung was only to ever be Jeongguk’s friend, writing a relationship between the two of them off as an impossibility in the latter’s book. And it wasn’t exactly hard to accept—he had long gotten used to the fact that there was no way he would ever catch the younger’s eye in any sort of way, no matter how much he wanted to.

Not until now, anyway. 

Now, Taehyung senses that the universe has practically handed them the opportunity to have an actual conversation about their lingering feelings (or perhaps just Taehyung’s, if he’s reading the situation wrong) on a silver platter. After all, this may just be their last shot of starting something together before the two of them become more progressively busy with their own lives. 

Or maybe, Taehyung’s just being an overly optimistic fool and this is all nothing more than a drunken conversation—setting the clueless boy up for a hurtful rejection. 

Either way, he’s made up his mind. 

He’s going to talk about his feelings to Jeongguk tomorrow morning—whether or not this discussion means anything to the latter at all. 

“Jimin, if you’re not gonna help me propose,” Jeongguk starts, his hands balled into fists at his sides, trembling, “then I’m gonna,” he pauses, as if trying to think of a good insult, “I’m gonna dis-invite you to the wedding!”

“What?” Jimin gasps theatrically, throwing his arm over his eyes and falling back onto the mattress dramatically, “Bold of you to assume he’ll even s-say,” he hiccups, “yes!”

Jeongguk manages to somehow gasp even louder. “How dare you—” 

Taehyung takes that as his cue to interrupt—fearing for the safety of the hotel room if the two of them keep going at it like this. He clears his throat, walking towards Jimin’s bed to subdue him, “Alright, alright,” he mutters, pushing the older boy back down into his respective bed, covering him up with the comforter, “it’s sleep time. Enough of that.”

Jimin stares up at him in awe—his lips curled into an ‘o’—as if coming into contact with an otherworldly being, “Where,” he points, “where’d you come from? Are you secretly a guardian angel?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Taehyung chuckles, leaving one last loving kiss against Jimin’s forehead, “You need to get some rest, alright?”

The older boy mumbles something underneath his breath that Taehyung can’t quite catch, before letting his eyes fall shut—turning the opposite direction. Taehyung muses at the sight of his best friend, checking over him one more time before he decides he’s actually going to bed now—the former maneuvering towards the other large baby on his agenda. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, flicking Jeongguk’s chin lightly, “it’s sleepy time. Slide over.”

The two of them were set to share a bed as per Jimin’s rules—demanding that they respect his place as the oldest of the three.

Taehyung realizes now how much of a setup that was. 

“What?” Jeongguk slurs, gazing up at Taehyung with the beadiest, starriest eyes, incessantly blinking, “Taehyungie?”

“Now you recognize me?” the older giggles, his head tilting in mirth. 

“Don’t be silly,” Jeongguk grins, his eyelids falling shut, his body shifting slightly to make room for the older,“How could I,” he hiccups, “not remember the prettiest person I’ve ever seen?” 

The sheer softness of the accolade offsets Taehyung’s desire to point out the fact that he indeed, wasn’t able to recognize the former 10 minutes ago—his heart instead melting, his cheeks coated in a dust of bright garnet. “Oh, shush.”

“Never,” the younger mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep as Taehyung slides into the bed, situating himself under the plush covers—his eyes still glued on Jeongguk. “Never gonna shush.” 

“Sure,” Taehyung plays along—admiring the way the moonlight reflects off Jeongguk’s skin, illuminating every inch of his form like a beacon—like the star of his world. The light of his life—just as the stars above them remind him. “Whatever you say.” 

Jeongguk hums, closing his eyes, nuzzling closer to the older boy, wrapping his arms around the older’s torso. When he speaks again, it’s barely above a whisper, his voice almost lost somewhere between his chest and the sheets. “Taehyung?” 

Taehyung croons. “Hmm?” 

“You’re gonna say yes to my proposal, right?” 

The older’s breath hitches at that, his lips curling up into a soft smile. 

What if he doesn’t mean it? What if he really doesn’t have feelings for him?

Taehyung wills the thought away. It doesn’t matter. “I will,” he assures tenderly, snuggling closer into Jeongguk’s embrace—letting himself, letting his heart fall, fall further into his grasp. “Now sleep.” 

He eventually drifts away for the night—dreaming of a doe-eyed boy who’s already willing to give him the world. 

… 

Taehyung wakes up to a cold, empty bed, and a Jeongguk nowhere in sight. 

His first theory is that perhaps the younger went to get dressed for the day—to brush his teeth, wash his face, take a shower, whatever it may be—but the idea is debunked when he notices that the bathroom light is off, with Jeongguk still missing in action. 

That’s fine, he finds himself thinking, it’s too early to be having such a serious conversation, anyways. 

Even if waking up without Jeongguk’s arms encasing Taehyung makes him a tad more bitter than usual, he’s far too occupied with his throbbing headache and aching limbs as a punishment for last night for him to be intensely concerned. 

But then the 30 seconds of Jeongguk’s absence turns into 45 minutes—and Taehyung begins to feel antsy. 

Where could he be? 

Even if he’d gone out, Taehyung reasons, he would’ve been back by now. Besides, it’s unlike the guy to simply play a disappearing act—not in the middle of a foreign country, anyways. 

He huffs, rolling over in their bed to get a glimpse of Jimin’s state. Much to his dismay, the older is still out like a light—snoring away underneath the covers. A part of him is tempted to wake him up and ask about Jeongguk’s whereabouts—but with the way he’s sleeping, he doubts his best friend has been awake since Taehyung coaxed him to bed last night. 

Heaving a long sigh, he figures he’ll have to resort to drastic measures. 

He reaches over the nightstand, and latches onto his phone. 

Squinting in pain at the excruciatingly bright screen that greets him, he quickly unlocks the device—tapping on the call icon next to Jeongguk’s name. 

...calling jeonggukie <33333

The familiar ringtone that blares throughout the hotel room from the desk, followed by a whisper of “Shit!” startles Taehyung wildly—his body jolting in a surprised fit. 

Oh my god. 

There’s no way. 

Pushing himself off the bed, Taehyung wanders towards the direction of the sound—gasping when he sees none other than Jeongguk crouched underneath the desk—completely curled into himself. 

Taehyung’s jaw drops, mouth hanging open so wide it hurts his head—stumbling a step forward. “Gguk?” He whisper-yells, his voice echoing slightly in the otherwise quiet room.

Jeongguk glaces back at him akin to a deer caught in headlights, an uncomfortably nervous laugh escaping his soft pink lips. “I uh,” he squeaks, his eyes widening in sheer panic, “I can explain!” 

The older boy tilts his head in perplexity, crossing his arms. “Please do,” he responds snarkily—unable to fathom the fact that Jeongguk had been hiding from him, underneath a desk, for 45 minutes. 

Jeongguk winces at his tone, his head turning down towards the ground. He takes a deep breath, running frantic fingers through his hair before whispering, “You remember last night, don’t you?” 

Oh. Oh. 

Taehyung doesn’t know why it never occurred to him that Jeongguk, more than anything else, would likely be embarrassed about last night. And yet here he is, being completely taken aback by the situation. 

“I…” He begins, feeling his own cheeks heating up, and the tips of his ears burning red. Jeongguk’s face reddens, the latter’s entire body seeming to shrink in on itself in shame as Taehyung continues to stare at him. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t have this conversation while you’re still hiding under the desk,” he settles on saying, a small smile pulling on his lips. 

And though he didn’t know it was humanly possible—the younger burns a brighter shade of scarlet at the reply, nodding softly as he climbs out of the space underneath the desk, standing up carefully. 

Even now, however, Jeongguk still stands as far away from him as possible. 

“Ggukie,” Taehyung mewls hushedly, his mouth curling into a pout—his frown deepening at the way the younger seems eager to escape his presence. He doesn’t exactly blame him per say—but the thought of it does quite hurt, “come closer. It’s just me. I’m not gonna hurt you.” 

“That’s exactly it, you’re too perfect,” Jeongguk mumbles underneath his breath—though Taehyung manages to catch it, his heart rate accelerating a mile a minute at the praise—his hands clammy with surprise as he tries to process what it is the younger just said out of the blue. 

Perfect? He thinks I’m perfect? 

Even while sober?

“Oh? Too perfect?” Taehyung opts to respond with—albeit in a cheekily manner, his eyebrows furrowing in pure gaiety—terrified that he’d hallucinated the compliment. 

The younger’s doe orbs widen in trepidation—his hand reaching up to slap over his mouth. “Oh crap,” he curses, looking at anything but Taehyung, “Did I say that out loud?”

Taehyung giggles at his sudden affliction, eyes morphing into bemused crescents as he watches Jeongguk’s cheeks heat up for what feels like the millionth time this morning alone. “You’re cute,” he murmurs, lips pulled into the widest grin he can muster. 

“Uhm,” The return of his kind acclamation, however, seemingly does little to appease Jeongguk’s evident state of mortification, the latter taking cautious steps backwards—his face colored a bright sangria. “Would you just excuse me for a moment?” He hardly manages to speak, before turning around in a sprint and making a beeline for the hotel door. 

But Taehyung refuses to put off their desperately needed conversation any further—especially now that he’s received the confirmation of there being some sort of feelings of attraction from Jeongguk’s side—even if they aren’t as deep as the older’s. 

“Oh no you don’t,” he calls out sans any hesitation, following behind Jeongguk as he begins to chase him around the room—his arms splayed out in front of him to try and grab hold of the younger. 

Jeongguk lets out a strained yelp when he realizes the older boy is following after him—whimpering as he tries to pull back from Taehyung who follows close on his heels, laughing all the while. As expected, Jeongguk proves to be a difficult target to catch hold of—dodging all of Taehyung’s attempts with ease—weaving through every crack and crevice of the small room. 

“Come on, stop running Gguk,” Taehyung whines, his legs beginning to give out from underneath him. He laughs harder the longer Jeongguk goes on his merry way around the area—laughter coming from within his chest, filling the whole room with a bubbly warmth that fills his heart with glee.

“I’m good,” Jeongguk remarks back—adrenaline still evidently coursing through him as he speeds up his space—working even faster, now. 

And the whole experience is sort of surreal, he thinks—with the way he’s casually chasing Jeongguk around the tiny expanse of a Vegas hotel, at 10 in the morning, with the intention of finally confessing to the younger boy after 4 years of pining. 

If someone told Taehyung this was going to happen a mere week ago—he thinks he'd have a heart attack. 

Jeongguk takes coverage in all possible locations—bolting between the curtains of the window, through the kitchenette and all the way back to their shared bed to the point where Taehyung vaguely wonders if the younger is secretly an Olympic runner. 

Taehyung manages to finally catch him through a fatal mistake in his movements, however, when he trips on the foot of the bed—tumbling forward in a rush as he falls onto the soft plush of the mattress—taking Jeongguk down with him in a mess of tangled limbs as they land. 

Jeongguk makes a muffled grunt at impact, his forehead resting against Taehyung's own as he groans, rubbing at his temple tiredly. His eyes remain squeezed shut as he takes several deep breaths, and Taehyung can't help but turn beet red as Jeongguk’s large palms come up to wrap around his hips, steadying him in place. 

Oh god. 

Their compromising position is a story for the grandkids, Taehyung’s thinks—with the way his lips are inches, mere centimeters away from Jeongguk’s—the younger’s breath hot on his mouth as they simply coexist for a while, taking one another in. Jeongguk’s eyes flutter open—his gaze locking intensely with Taehyung’s own, his head slowly moving forward—as if on autopilot. Taehyung’s palms are splayed out against Jeongguk’s shoulder, his torso pressed flush to Jeongguk’s, his thighs bracketed by the younger’s knees and for a moment—it feels as if the world is at an absolute standstill, their hearts being in tandem with one another. 

And it takes everything in Taehyung not to push forward himself, to kiss those plush cherry lips that seem so tantalizingly close to his own, or to let his hips depress fully against Jeongguk’s, both of their bodies shuddering violently—their lips colliding together with the barest pressure of each other.

You still don’t know for certain if he wants that. 

The intrusive thought is enough to snap him out of his daydreams—as Taehyung lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head lightly. He moves his face back slightly, just enough to keep a healthy amount of distance between them before he tries to speak—the words airy on his tongue. “Talk to me,” he whispers between the two of them—acutely aware of the way he’s still practically straddling Jeongguk—terrified that the younger will try to run away again if does so much as move back an inch more, “Please.” 

What am I doing? 

The desperate plea, thankfully, is enough to make Jeongguk concede—the boy sighing before he replies with a soft, “Okay.”

Taehyung pulls back the slightest bit—as if giving Jeongguk the chance to leave, if he wants to—but the hands on his waist staying dormant tells him all he needs to know, his body settling into the intimate position. 

Jeongguk swallows heavily, his eyes darting nervously away from Taehyung’s gaze. “I..I don’t have a full recollection of everything I said last night,” he admits, his voice low and quiet and raspy, almost husky, “but I do know that I said that I wanted to uh,” he winces, as if scolding himself internally, “to marry you and—and kiss you and…”

He trails off, finally letting his orbs meet Taehyung’s own—the latter’s brows knit with concern as his eyes search the younger’s face, holding his stare. 

“And I am so sorry,” he continues—a hint of a smile creeping across his face despite how remorseful and embarrassed he must feel, “because it probably made you so uncomfortable to hear someone you’re not even dating droning on about how they wanna propose to you and the fact that I was acting so possessive and jealous made it so much worse and—”

Jeongguk is frantic in his words—worry and guilt presumably swirling in the pits of his stomach as he speaks—his words spilling out in an unplanned frenzy that has Taehyung internally swooning—all too endeared by the sudden downpour of his emotions. 

“I’m just really, really sorry, Taehyung, for not being mindful of your boundaries and just being... reckless in general, I guess,” he repeats, shaking his head solemnly—his gaze dropping downwards as he whispers—quietly, “If you don’t want to be friends after this, I’d completely understand—”

But Taehyung can’t hear him degrade himself any further—pressing a soft finger to the younger’s lips to shush his rambling—coercing his chin up, “Shhh,” he murmurs, enchanted by the way Jeongguk’s eyes widen in surprise—his brown orbs glittering akin to the galaxies in the sky, “It’s okay, Gguk. Don’t stress yourself out so much.” 

The younger breathes a sigh of relief at that, his shoulders loosening at the sound of Taehyung’s reassuring tone. He looks up at the older, a small smile forming at the corner of his plump lips as he nods. “Thank you,” he says shyly, closing his eyes softly as he leans into Taehyung’s touch.

But that’s not where Taehyung wants to end their talk. 

No, he can’t let this opportunity go—can’t let the full truth escape from his grasp before he spends days and nights pondering about what could’ve been—what Jeongguk and he could’ve built together. He can’t waste time; he can’t let it slip past him anymore—or he may never get another shot. 

Mustering up all the courage Taehyung possibly can, he takes in a deep breath, “Can I just ask,” he mutters, shakily, “Did you...did you mean what you said? About...” he feels Jeongguk’s breath hitch, his heart hammering loudly—incessantly, “About liking me?”  

Jeongguk’s jaw falls agape, his cheeks flushed, his gaze fixed resolutely on Taehyung’s chest as if trying to make sense of what Taehyung had just said—as if trying to process its meaning, to absorb it into his system.

And Taehyung feels petrified—frozen in place as he waits anxiously for the answer. The room feels like it’s engulfed with electricity that’s about to short—the two of them breathing steadily as they stay silent, Jeongguk’s hands still pressed tenderly against Taehyung’s hip bone.

Jeongguk’s expression shifts into something like a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and nervousness—his lips twitching slightly as he purses them, before he reaches out a palm—enclasping in Taehyung’s own. Taehyung revels at the way their hands fit—the soft skin of his finger caresses against his knuckles “Of course I did,” he murmurs, looking at Taehyung earnestly—with so much love in his eyes that his throat constricts, feeling warmth pool inside his stomach. 

Jeongguk likes me. Jeongguk wants to kiss me.

His heart races skips a beat—the realization making the heat surge through Taehyung’s entire being and leaving no trace behind—nothing but an overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through his veins.

Jeongguk likes him. 

Taehyung swears he’s stuck in a fantasy, right now—seeing as everything around him seems to melt into slow motion—watching the way the light reflects against the younger’s eyelashes, the curve of his nose, the gentle slope of his cheekbones, the slight creases that form around the corners of his eyes as he smiles warmly. But Taehyung can tell by the way his fingers are trembling and how warm his cheeks look that this is real. This is real and this is happening, right now. 

He’s never felt euphoria like this before. 

“I mean, I’d probably want to date you before we get married but,” Jeongguk adds on hastily—as if to clarify his intentions—the grin on his face slipping a tad. He tightens his grip on the older’s hand, making circular motions against his palm, “I like you, Kim Taehyung. I like you a fucking lot—love you, even.”

Taehyung smiles widely at his confession, his heart clenching a bit at the way the younger says those three little words—his lips quivering and fighting to fight off the tears threatening to spill over his lashes.  His chest feels like it’s bursting—like it’s overflowing with love—like it’s filled to the brim with affection as he stares down at Jeongguk lovingly, as if he’s the only person in the world.

Because he is, really, in Taehyung’s eyes. 

His free arm instinctively settles on the curve of Jeongguk’s neck—his eyes scrunching up as he lets out a soft laugh. “I love you too,” he whispers, his hand moving up to caress the apple of Jeongguk’s cheek, “Have loved you since freshman year.” 

“You do?” Jeongguk asks in wonder, his eyes as wide as saucers—as if in complete disbelief of what he’s hearing, “Really?” 

Taehyung giggles at the evident astonishment in Jeongguk’s features—nodding, with no hesitation. 

“Oh thank god,” He mumbles underneath his breath, “Now I don’t have to hold myself back from doing this, anymore.” 

That’s all the warning Jeongguk gives before pulling Taehyung down towards him—letting their lips lock softly—slowly, sweetly—their bodies falling flush against each other and both relishing in the contact as they kiss languidly, gently and fervently. The sensation is indescribable—so pleasurable and intense that Taehyung doesn’t know what to do with himself—only clings onto Jeongguk tighter, more desperately. 

He lets out a squeak of surprise when Jeongguk changes their position—flipping Taehyung over as he pushes him into the silky sheets, leaning down to hover over him once more—caressing his face, kissing his neck, and then finally making his way down to his lips. 

The kiss feels like 4 years of waiting, feels like fireworks exploding in every part of Taehyung’s body, his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage and his blood rushing feverishly through his veins—every inch of him tingling with anticipation. He feels lightheaded—his legs quivering—his palms sweaty—his heart beating rapidly, almost painfully. He can’t stop the uncontrollable smile that spreads across his face as he kisses Jeongguk back—Taehyung gladly giving in, knowing he’s weak, far too weak to resist. 

They kiss for a while—a long while—until they need to pull apart to breathe—Jeongguk’s forehead resting against Taehyung’s as he exhales against him, leaving one last peck on the older boy’s lips—his mouth curling up into the sappiest smile possible. 

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes out—overwhelmed in the best way possible, his mind in a haze as his eyes stare up at the younger—trying his hardest not to cry from happiness. He lets out a watery chuckle, shaking his head lightly, “Oh my god,” he breathes out incredulously, a smile blooming on his lips when he feels Jeongguk nuzzle closer to him. 

“Now who’s the flustered one?” Jeongguk murmurs cheekily in retaliation—winking with obvious pride in his actions. 

Taehyung swats at him playfully, shaking his head in disbelief. “You tease.” 

“Your tease,” Jeongguk whispers against his skin—grinning against it, “Been waiting too long to say that.” 

And Taehyung smiles shyly, blushing at the implication of the younger’s words, biting his lip nervously, “Yours too, Ggukie,” he mutters against Jeongguk’s shoulder, “if you’ll have me.” 

The expression of pure contentment that overtakes Jeongguk’s face is enough to make Taehyung feel like crying, his heart throbbing happily as he watches the way Jeongguk beams at him—his cheeks flushing pink as his lips stretch into a happy, gummy smile. 

“C’mere,” he coaxes Taehyung into his arms, wrapping a secure arm around his waist as he tugs the older’s body flush against his chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he mumbles sleepily, peppering his face against the crook of Taehyung’s neck, planting soft kisses there. “This whole thing is surreal for me. Can’t believe you like me back.” 

Taehyung turns around in his arms, pressing their foreheads together—tugging him closer until their noses brush together. “Yeah?” he questions softly, smiling warmly against Jeongguk’s lips, “Me neither,” he murmurs, “can’t believe it either.”

He slides their lips together again, softly kissing him—kissing Jeongguk back. He lets out a contented sigh—savoring the moment—liking how Jeongguk tastes, how Jeongguk smells, the feel of the younger’s fingers carding through his hair. 

They only pull apart at the sound of a loud cough from behind them—followed by a more than disgusted gag. 

Taehyung turns to face the source of the noise—giggling at the sight of a horrified Jimin, his eyebrows furrowing in disapproval. 

“I could’ve gone ten fucking lifetimes without seeing that,” he states dryly, his voice dripping with repugnance as he looks pointedly between the two of them. “Especially when I have the biggest migraine right now, Jesus.” 

Jeongguk smiles sheepishly at that, offering an apologetic (though Taehyung is sure he doesn’t actually feel any remorse) smile. “Sorry, Jimin.” 

“Don’t sorry me,” the older man snarkily crosses his arms, “I can’t even tell the two of you to get a room because you’re both already in one, what the hell. Who thought a trip with me third wheeling would be a good idea?” 

“It was your idea,” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, cocking his head. 

“Not anymore,” Jimin mewls, shaking his head with discontent, “I regret this trip. Take it back.”

Taehyung and Jeongguk giggle at the abhorrence in his attitude—humored by the way Jimin whines incessantly before eventually retreating to the bathroom, grumbling underneath his breath. 

And Taehyung thinks that while Jimin may regret the trip—encompassed in the arms of the guy he loves, and with his best friend by his side, he couldn’t ask for anything more. 

...

(“You know, I was tempted to say yes to your proposal back in Vegas. You drove a hard bargain.”

“Don’t test me, Taehyung. I will get married to you right this instant.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Taehyung doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jeongguk get ready so quickly. 

He’s so terribly in love.)