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They say that you never get over your first love.
For Jungkook and Taehyung both, that certainly seems to ring true.
For Jungkook, Taehyung is his first love. His first everything, really; the first person to make his heart pound, the first person who seems to understand every little part of him, the first person who smiles at him like he’s the sun.
And perhaps it’s the charming naivete of a first love, but these days, Jungkook thinks he can hear something that sounds a lot like forever in the ring of Taehyung’s laugh, when he feels something flutter wildly in his chest.
Sometimes, Jungkook glances over at Taehyung and catches him just watching Jungkook quietly, a small, painfully warm smile tugging subconsciously at his lips - as though the sight of Jungkook brings happiness to Taehyung’s features, without even trying.
It’s a little surreal, given how long Jungkook had spent pining one-sidedly after Taehyung.
It’s just.
Jungkook had never expected Taehyung to reciprocate his feelings, is the thing.
So to have this - to have Taehyung, tangling their fingers together with a beatific smile, carefully brushing the hair out of Jungkook’s eyes, pressing butterfly kisses along his skin - is something that feels, still, just a little shy of miraculous.
They’ve only been dating for three months, but Jungkook already knows, that when heat rises on his cheeks whenever Taehyung murmurs terrible pickup lines with a seductive expression, that he’s in love; that this love he feels won’t ever go away, not completely.
You never get over your first love, they say.
But Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s Taehyung’s first love.
It’s unlikely, given how many people Taehyung’s dated in the past.
Taehyung had a bit of a reputation when Jungkook first met him. As someone who didn’t like when things got too serious; infamous, as being that one night stand who’d leave a lasting impression without ever giving you a call.
(So imagine Jungkook’s surprise when he works up the courage to ask Taehyung out for coffee - just coffee - and the next day, Taehyung asks him out again.)
As someone who’d leave the second things got so much as slightly difficult; as someone who’d never exert any effort in relationships at all.
(But two weeks into seeing each other, when their individual work schedules had grown too busy to quite match up, Taehyung had been waiting outside his door at one in the morning, exhausted from a late night at the office but bright-eyed when Jungkook came into his line of sight.)
As someone who’d run the moment the word ‘relationship’ or ‘long term’ came up.
(It’s why Jungkook had spent nearly a month on tenterhooks, heart growing increasingly anxious as he wondered, do you feel the same gravity-shifting adoration I do? But couldn’t voice any of it aloud, in fear Taehyung might leave. It’s why he’d held his tongue, until one night when Taehyung had gripped his hand too tightly with pale cheeks, and haltingly said-- I really, really like you, and I want something with you. Something more. )
Taehyung doesn’t talk much about his dating past at all, just vague little smiles here and there that don’t really reach his eyes, murmurs about how most weren’t even serious enough to be called a relationship, Jungkook-ah, hedging on just this side of specific that it makes Jungkook wonder about the ones that were serious enough.
But he figures; he’s Taehyung’s present relationship, and that’s good enough for him.
He’s the one holding Taehyung’s hand, the one going on dates with Taehyung, the one waking up in a tangle of limbs together with him on cold mornings so that Taehyung can burrow his too-cold nose into his collarbone seeking warmth.
He’s the one Taehyung’s brought to his apartment, now, the one being tugged close into Taehyung’s arms whilst they wait out the elevator ride, as though even a foot of space is too far away.
The one that gets to laugh, breathless and exhilarated, when Taehyung presses kisses across his cheeks and eyelids and nose, squealing quietly when Taehyung nips the tip of it. “Taehyung,” Jungkook huffs, and has the breath stolen from his lungs by Taehyung’s lips slotting over his.
“This is public indecency,” Jungkook mutters across Taehyung’s lips, as Taehyung’s hands squeeze at his waist.
His heart flutters anew when Taehyung’s low, rumbling laugh blows air across his cheeks.
“I’m sure the public won’t mind,” Taehyung teases, their foreheads pressed together. “It’s a free show.”
Jungkook pinches him.
The elevator dings as it arrives at their floor, and the doors slide open to--
“Taehyung?”
Taehyung stiffens. Immediately, and almost violently; Jungkook feels all his muscles lock up underneath his hands, enough to startle him into pulling back to look at Taehyung’s face.
As the two of them stumble out the elevator, Jungkook’s taken aback by the sheer stiff surprise written across Taehyung’s features, as he stares at-
-a boy.
Jungkook doesn’t know who he is.
Has never seen him before, but even just a cursory glance lets him know that he’s handsome. Has dark hair artfully swept back, big eyes, red lips, tattoos trailing enticingly up the pale skin of his neck, corded muscle clearly visible even underneath his thin shirt.
Most of all, it’s the light in the boy’s eyes - appraising; challenging - as he looks Jungkook up and down, before they settle pointedly at Jungkook and Taehyung’s intertwined hands, that make apprehension pool in Jungkook’s stomach.
“Soobin?” Taehyung says, sounding as stunned as he looks, fingers loosening ever so slightly from Jungkook’s.
That sinking feeling increases.
“Hey, Tae-ah,” ‘Soobin’ says softly, voice imbued with a lilting, musical quality, shaping the endearment like a croon.
Jungkook’s heart twists.
“What are you doing here?” Taehyung asks.
Soobin hums. But he’s still gazing appraisingly - almost defiantly - at their joined hands, such that Jungkook can’t help but to hedge closer to Taehyung.
“Who are you?” Soobin asks, not unkindly, but.
It isn’t kind, either.
“I asked you what you’re doing here-” Taehyung begins to say, clearly irked, but Jungkook’s soft voice cuts through it.
“I’m Jungkook,” he says quietly.
(Far too quietly for Taehyung’s tastes, such that it makes his heart clench.)
Taehyung’s fingers re-tighten around Jungkook’s, and it gives him a small boost of confidence, enough that he says, just slightly louder: “I’m Taehyung’s boyfriend.”
Soobin’s expression cools several degrees.
Jungkook swallows. “And you are?”
Soobin’s lips twist into a terribly beautiful smile, then, voice dripping with faux-casual innocence, as he says: “I’m Soobin.” And then, tilting his head to the side, “I’m Taehyung’s first love, didn’t you know?”
Oh.
Jungkook stills. Taehyung, struck dumb, can only stare silently.
“I thought you’d have heard of me at least once,” Soobin murmurs. His smile is nothing but warmth and tender softness when he looks at Taehyung, his voice painfully fond as he says, “You even moved to Seoul for me, didn’t you? Silly Tae-ah.”
Tae-ah.
The one word digs far deeper into Jungkook’s heart than he’d have ever thought possible, digging deep enough to lance into his innermost insecurities.
Is it true? He wants to ask, but.
The silence from Taehyung screams loudly enough that he doesn’t need to. It’s the truth.
Jungkook’s lip trembles as his hand begins to loosen from Taehyung’s. Taehyung’s heart drops. Stricken, he turns to Jungkook, a thousand pleas and explanations just on the tip of his tongue.
But then, the most miraculous thing happens, unfolding before his very eyes.
As Taehyung watches, stupefied, Jungkook’s expression abruptly hardens.
Turns into something fierce and dizzyingly alluring, breathtaking with the way there’s defiance written into every lovely line of his features.
Jungkook’s eyes narrow, as he lifts his chin, jawline proud and sharp enough to cut glass. “So?” There’s the faintest tremble in his words, but there’s nothing weak about the way Jungkook says, “I’m going to be his last love.”
Soobin falters.
His entire expression slackens, as though he hadn’t been expecting his; hadn’t been expecting the hurricane that is Jungkook.
(Taehyung is so, so in love.)
“Everyone has a first love,” Jungkook says, and somehow manages to make it sound pitying and derisive and dismissive, all at once. “It’s the last that matters, in the end, didn’t you know?”
A disbelieving sound, something between a huff and a strangled choke, rises from Soobin’s throat.
He turns furious eyes towards Taehyung, as though to convey a did you hear what he just said to me?
But Taehyung.
Taehyung is far too busy gaping at Jungkook, trying to rein in the way his heart is jackrabbiting out of control in his chest, too overcome with affectionadmirationI’msoinlovewithyou, to even spare Soobin a glance.
Taehyung may have come to Seoul for Soobin, but he’ll stay, for Jungkook.
Taehyung’s first love was a tempest.
Something that raged like a wildfire, consuming every inch of him, something that left him feeling ashen and burnt inside when it was gone. (When Soobin had left him, without a backwards glance).
Had left him feeling like something was missing from himself; like he didn’t have enough of himself to give, because there was hardly enough for himself.
Taehyung had known, a month after Soobin left him and his world still felt bleak and empty, that he’d never get over him. Had known, when he’d date other people, and find himself scared away by the faintest mention of commitment (because commitment burns, he’d learned), that his first love had left its permanent burn mark on his heart.
You never get over your first love, they say.
But then he’d met Jungkook.
Jungkook, who looked at him with painfully soft eyes and half-trembling smile, as though he’d never asked someone out before. Someone who looked like he could effortlessly destroy Taehyung, if given half a chance; like he could own Taehyung’s whole heart, in the blink of an eye.
And how right, Taehyung had been.
But with Jungkook, love isn’t like a tempest, or a wildfire.
It’s something calmer; softer, sweeter. Gentle, and mild, but in a way that makes his heart burn in the best, most delicious way. Something kind.
Something beautiful.
The deafening silence passes for a minute, and then another.
And then, just as Jungkook’s expression stills, on the cusp of turning into something uncertain and anxious-
“You heard him,” Taehyung says faintly to Soobin, but his eyes are still fixed on Jungkook. (Entranced, he is, by his wonderful little miracle.)
Jungkook’s eyes snap to meet his, wide.
Taehyung would cut open his chest and give this boy his still-beating heart, so the edge of surprise written on Jungkook’s features - as though he hadn’t known that Taehyung thinks of Jungkook as his last and final and only love that matters - is unbearable.
Unacceptable.
“It’s the last love that matters, Soobin,” Taehyung says, but his words are for Jungkook, and Jungkook alone.
Jungkook’s breath catches.
Taehyung squeezes his hand, smiling softly. “That’s why you and I never worked out,” he says, finally glancing at Soobin, who’s wearing a disbelieving expression.
(Once, Taehyung, too, had thought that he would never get over Soobin. That if Soobin would only come back, Taehyung would be here for him, waiting.)
Taehyung turns back to Jungkook, expression melting once more into something adoring and awed. “Jungkook was always meant to be my last.”
Soobin makes a low sound of disgust, not even deigning to reply as he stalks past them into the elevator.
But neither of them can find a care in the world to look away from one another.
Jungkook’s expression is stunned and fragile and preciously hopeful, cheeks flushed and his bright, as his hand twitches in Taehyung’s hold. “Really?” he murmurs.
He’d thrown that line out there out of sheer, defiant competitiveness, but.
He hadn’t known.
Hadn’t dared hope, that Taehyung might feel the same way.
Taehyung pulls him in, closer, closer, until their chests are pressed together and they can share the same breath of air in between them.
“You weren’t my first love,” Taehyung says softly, arms winding around Jungkook’s waist. “But you’re going to be my last.”
Jungkook’s heart spins in a wild somersault.
A breathless, wet laugh startles out of him. “We’ve hardly been dating a few months,” he says.
Taehyung smiles at him. “They say you never get over your first love, but…” Taehyung’s hands trace idle, adoring patterns into the small of Jungkook’s back, enough to raise goosebumps along his arms. “You spend the rest of your life with your last love.”
Jungkook’s breath catches.
Taehyung’s lips ghost over his, a smile tugging on both of theirs. “I’m going to spend the rest of mine, loving you.”
Jungkook laughs, jubilant and exhilarated, and Taehyung steals his breath away with a kiss.