Work Text:
The first thing Taehyung hears upon arriving home are sniffles.
His chest tightens as the front door clicks closed behind him. The lazy smile with which he usually greets his roommate disappears, replaced with a frown.
“Jimin?”
The concern in his tone is evident, turns to dread and blocks his throat when no reply comes, even though Jimin’s bedroom light is on. Taehyung drops his bag and rushes in.
Jimin is sitting on the floor, staring at his own limp hands on his lap with bloodshot eyes. His cheeks glisten with tears that continue to stream down his face despite his lethargy. It’s the most devastating scene Taehyung has seen since Jimin’s first boyfriend broke up with him, which instantly leads him to think Jungkook has fucked up big time. He’s ready to find the bastard and fight him with his bare hands for leaving Jimin in such a desolated state, but grits his teeth and chooses a tactful approach instead.
“What happened?”
It takes Jimin a few seconds to turn his head and lift his gaze. When he does, his bottom lip quivers and he lets out a pained sigh. Taehyung doesn’t need another cue, crouches by his side, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin sinks into him, mumbles an unintelligible streak of words in a high-pitched tone, body shaking with sobs in Taehyung’s arms.
“Hey, look at me,” Taehyung murmurs, sitting on his haunches and cupping Jimin’s face with both hands, angling it up so they can make eye contact. “Breathe.”
They inhale and exhale together until their breaths sync in a calm rhythm. Taehyung wipes the tears clinging to his eyelashes with his thumbs. Squished between his palms, Jimin’s cheeks push his lips forward, the cutest human rendition of a duck beak. Taehyung would have smiled if he weren’t worried sick.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Jimin hiccups. “My life is ruined, Tae.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s over.”
“I’m sure it isn’t.” Taehyung’s fingers gently push Jimin’s blond locks away from his forehead. “What’s the matter?”
Jimin gets his phone from the floor and shows him a picture of a guy sitting on a bed, one leg immobilized by a cast. Taehyung recognizes him; Jimin has brought him home a few times to work on his university project.
“My model broke his leg.”
Taehyung winces. “Is he okay?”
“He’ll be fine in a few weeks.” Jimin sighs dejectedly.
“But you needed him for tomorrow,” Taehyung completes, well-aware of Jimin’s impending deadline. He’s lost count of how many times he’s woken up in the middle of the night to hear Jimin’s sewing machine rumbling at full throttle.
“This is so unfair,” Jimin croaks, tears welling in his eyes again. “I worked so hard for so long, and it’s all pointless now.”
Taehyung’s heart shatters, the broken pieces infuse his blood with exasperation. Why should Jimin suffer the consequences of a roadblock that no one could have foreseen? This can’t be right.
“There must be another way. Can’t you explain it to the organizers and ask for a replacement or an extension? It’s not your fault, accidents happen!”
Jimin shakes his head, no fight left in him.
“An extension is out of the question, they can’t postpone the workshop. Even if they could find me a replacement, I’d have to wait until tomorrow to make the necessary adjustments to the new model, and who knows how long that would take.” Jimin gives him a gloomy glance before looking at something behind Taehyung. “Besides, it’s not that easy to find a guy who’s willing to… You know…”
Taehyung doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know what he means, but does so anyway.
“Wear a dress in public.”
He completes the sentence eyeing the dazzling wedding gown Jimin spent months working on tirelessly. A small smile appears on his face at the memory of how the bare mannequin used to freak him out at first. As time went by and the dress slowly but steadily came to life, he stopped jumping at the sight of the humanoid silhouette whenever he walked past or into Jimin’s room, and started sighing at its beauty instead.
The concept for his final workshop project is to add their own twist of modernity to tradition, as Jimin enthusiastically explained a year ago, when he first started working on it. He struggled for the longest time with a creative block until he burst into Taehyung’s room at the crack of dawn, eyes bulging and a deranged grin on his face, to jump on his bed and declare he’d finally figured it out. From that moment on, every minute he could spare from his classes and internship was spent on creating the most breathtaking dress Taehyung has ever seen—yet never meant to be worn by a bride.
“That’s so fucking dumb,” he goes on, unable to tear his eyes away from the mannequin. “This gown came straight out of a fairy tale. Who wouldn’t want to wear it?”
He shakes his head in disdain and brings his focus back to Jimin, whose eyes have suddenly doubled in size. The hopeful glint in them puts a crease between Taehyung’s brows.
“Of course,” Jimin mumbles, catching hold of his hands in an unexpectedly strong grip. Taehyung realizes what he means a little too late. When he tries to pull back, Jimin’s grip tightens.
“No.”
“Come on, Tae—”
“Nope. Absolutely not!”
Taehyung manages to free his hands and jumps to his feet, but he’s not fast enough to save his leg from Jimin’s clinging arms. His chin pokes the side of Taehyung’s thigh as he looks up.
“But you said…”
“I was just being supportive!”
He knows he’s fucked up when Jimin’s eyes narrow.
“So you don’t mean it?” His voice is all sobered up now, no more pleading left in his tone. “How can you say anyone would want to wear it then refuse to do it?”
“No… That’s not what I mean!”
He lets go of Taehyung’s leg, gets on his feet and shoots him an icy glare. “You don’t have to praise it if you don’t like it, you know. I don’t need your pity.”
After a moment of stunned hesitation, Taehyung takes a deep breath and follows him to the living room. Jimin is on the couch, arms crossed over his chest and jaw locked.
“Look, I know you’re nervous, and I’m sorry about all of this, but please don’t distort my words.” Taehyung stands in front of him, knees nudging Jimin’s every time he bends them to get his attention. “I’ve loved this dress since you showed me the first sketch, you know that. It’s just… I’m not a model, you know how shy I am.”
“And you know how important this is to me,” Jimin retorts matter-of-factly. Taehyung’s words seem to have put out some of the fire in his eyes, but they’re brimming with tears again in seconds. “I wouldn’t be asking if there was another way. I’m not allowed to wear my own dress.”
He lowers his head, tries to stifle a sob, but his shaking shoulders betray him. His small hands cover his face and Taehyung can’t think.
“Okay,” he blurts out, kneeling between Jimin’s legs. “Okay, I’ll wear it.”
“No, it’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head, wipes the tears with his adorable fingers, two of which have Band-Aids wrapped around them due to constantly handling needles and pins. The sight is so devastating that even Taehyung’s eyes get moist. “It’s not right to guilt trip you like this. I’m so sorry.”
“What’s not right is to hide that gorgeous dress from all the people attending the workshop tomorrow.” Taehyung grips his wrists, pulls Jimin’s hands away from his face with a kind smile. “Now get your ass off this couch and let’s get to work, hm?”
Jimin’s face lights up more beautifully than the stars. He grins big and wraps his arms around Taehyung’s neck, giggles when Taehyung hugs him back.
“You’re the best, Tae. I owe you one.”
Taehyung half pouts, half smirks. “You sure do.”
Wearing a dress, or at least something that resembles one, doesn’t actually feel so foreign. He’s got quite a few oversized silky blouses in his wardrobe, which he either tucks into his jeans or lets flow down to his mid thighs. But this… This feels like stepping into a work of art. Taehyung looks down at himself, marvels at the see-through bodice encrusted with crystals that drip down his sleeves and fade out around his forearms. Even Jimin stares in awe at his reflection in the full body mirror.
“My expectations were high, but… Holy shit, Tae.”
Taehyung is forced to agree. He can’t stop admiring himself, feels warm and fuzzy all over, never thought he could look this good in any outfit. Weddings have never been a big deal for him, but if this is how a bride feels when saying yes to the dress, he thinks he finally gets part of all the hype around them. Of course, the thought of showing up like that before a crowd of strangers the following morning is still so very daunting, but one proud smile from Jimin is all it takes to convince him that helping his talented friend is more important than anything else.
Apart from the slightly puffy eyes, there’s no more trace of sadness or concern on Jimin’s face. He’s fully focused now, loses himself in his craft. Taehyung helps however he can, moving diligently according to his requests.
His body proportions are very familiar to Jimin, who randomly gifts Taehyung original pieces of clothing because it helps him practice. Taehyung loves to wear his unique items, brags about them whenever someone in his photography classes compliments him on his style and even lands Jimin some commissions. In that sense, he realizes he’s been Jimin’s model for longer than he can remember, and this dress is just another creation of his he’ll be lucky to show off. Besides, from what Jimin has told him about the other irreverent projects that’ll also be on display at the workshop, a dude in a wedding dress is definitely not among the most peculiar ones. The thought calms him down, at least for the time being; the more he admires himself in that gorgeous gown, the more at ease Taehyung feels.
Jimin’s phone dings some time later and bursts their quiet bubble. The smile on his face when he checks the notifications can only be caused by one person.
“Jungkook is coming over!” He squeals, as if he weren’t having a mental breakdown just a while ago. “He said he’d give me space to focus on the workshop, but he must have changed his mind when I called him crying earlier.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes theatrically. “I’m surprised he didn’t instantly materialize here.”
Jimin bursts out laughing, puts the phone down again after typing his reply, and walks back to his post near Taehyung.
“I bet he would have, if he weren’t at work. You know he takes this internship really seriously.”
“I hope he takes this seriously too.” Taehyung glances down at himself, shoulders slumping after a sigh. “If he even looks at me funny, I’m backing out and he can wear the dress himself.”
“If he teases you for saving my life, he’s a dead man, or at the very least, a single one,” Jimin winks, not an ounce of playfulness in his tone. They share a laugh before getting back to work.
It doesn’t take long for the bell to ring. While Jimin hops his way to the door, eager to greet his boyfriend, Taehyung stays frozen, too scared to breathe and rip the fitted bodice or hurt himself with all the pins keeping it in place. Jungkook walks into the bedroom a moment later, guided by Jimin, who’s standing on his tiptoes behind him and covering his eyes with both hands.
“I made him promise to behave,” he explains. Taehyung grits his teeth and turns around to face them, hands balled at his sides and heart pumping undiluted shame through his veins. Regardless of what Jimin says or does, Taehyung knows Jungkook will never let this slide.
Jimin withdraws his hands, and Jungkook opens his eyes. It takes him a moment to find his voice, eyeing Taehyung up and down repeatedly.
“Wow,” he says at last, looping an arm around Jimin’s waist. “Are you sure you didn’t make this dress with him in mind?”
“Maybe,” Jimin shrugs, biting his bottom lip while admiring his own handiwork. “Do you like it?”
Jungkook gasps, no mockery whatsoever in his tone. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect! You two are gonna blow everyone’s minds tomorrow.”
His genuine praise lifts part of the weight on Taehyung’s shoulders. He even twirls for them, bows when they applaud his graceful movements. Jimin’s smile is blinding, his happiness is infectious. Taehyung gives Jungkook a grateful nod for not making fun of him, feels silly for thinking he’d ever offend Jimin like that. Although he gets tired of third wheeling for them all the time, Taehyung couldn’t be happier that his friend has found someone who truly loves and respects him no matter what.
“I think I’m done adjusting the dress,” Jimin says, walking over to the mannequin. “Let’s see how it looks with the veil before you take it off.”
After a brief discussion, they unanimously decide not to push Taehyung’s bangs back. The white tulle cascades from the headpiece down the back of his head and ends on his shoulders, giving Taehyung a somewhat ethereal, angelic aura. Jungkook lets out a low whistle.
“Dude, you’re gonna break a lot of hearts. Heterosexual male hearts included.”
Jimin giggles. “Right? He’s gonna make so many guys question their sexuality.”
“Like you did to me.”
With a bashful grin, Jimin walks over to Jungkook and gives him a chaste kiss.
“My goodness, you two are gross.” Taehyung mutters, sticking an index into his open mouth and pretending to gag. “Good thing you didn’t hand me a bouquet, or I would have smashed it on your heads right about now.”
Jimin freezes in Jungkook’s arms. His smile vanishes, the color leaves his face.
“Oh, my God! The bouquet! I was supposed to pick it up at the flower shop earlier but then the whole broken leg thing happened and I completely forgot!”
“They might still be open.” Jungkook quickly checks the time on his phone. “I’ll take you there, you can call them on the way.”
Taehyung barely manages to wish them good luck before they’re gone. He hears Jungkook’s motorbike take off and clasps his hands together in front of his face, asking his angels to help them. Figuring they might take a while to come back, he decides to sit on Jimin’s bed, since he cannot take off the dress on his own. He hopes Jimin will understand and not scold him if he happens to wrinkle it a little bit.
As soon as he carefully takes a seat and sighs in relief, the doorbell rings. Taehyung frowns at first, then reckons Jimin must have forgotten something in their hurried exit and dashes to the door.
The person standing on their welcome mat is definitely not Jimin.
The face staring back at him is nothing short of perfect. The man’s brows are lifted, his black hair is slicked back neatly, exposing his forehead, his round eyes are bright, and his full, pink lips are parted, painting an undeniably dumbstruck expression on what’s probably the most immaculate face Taehyung has ever seen. As if all of that simply weren’t enough, the first two buttons of his blue shirt are open, revealing a sliver of collarbone, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.
Meanwhile… Taehyung is wearing a fucking wedding dress. With a whole veil and everything. Like it’s just another Thursday.
Fuck.
As he tries to buy his fried brain some time to recover, or maybe convince his muscles to obey him and shut the door, his eyes drop to the gorgeous flower bouquet the man is holding. Blinking in confusion, Taehyung looks up at him again, strives to formulate a complete sentence in his head, but the guy beats him to it and speaks first. Though his voice is nothing but a mumble, Taehyung hears him loud and clear.
“Marry me.”
The words wipe all thoughts from his mind, rob him of all air or speech. His eyes double in size, his heart climbs up to his throat, racing right below his Adam’s apple, fueled by sheer mortification and something else he’s too overwhelmed to name. For a split second, he questions his sanity, but the man’s ears start to burn red, as hot as Taehyung’s entire body feels, leaving no more room for doubt.
“Excuse me?” He stutters in a high-pitched tone, after painfully long seconds of awkwardness.
The man gulps, looks down at the flowers in his hands, shuffles his weight from one foot to the other before clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. I… Are you, uh… Are you Park Jimin?”
For some bizarre, inexplicable reason, the question feels like a bucket of ice water over Taehyung’s head. He couldn’t possibly have thought a handsome stranger would just appear on his doorstep to bring him flowers just because he’s wearing a dress… Right?
He wants to laugh and cry and pass out and maybe disappear all at once.
“No… He’s my… He’s my roommate.” His hands are sweating; he tightens his grip on the doorknob. “Are you from the flower shop?”
The guy nods, tries to return Taehyung’s gaze but quickly looks away again. “We got so many orders for the university workshop this week that we haven’t been able to finish them on time… So we’re delivering them for free to make up for it.”
“Oh. How… Thoughtful.” Taehyung purses his lips after barely getting the words out, hopes it’s not super obvious that the impromptu marriage proposal in lieu of a greeting is still ringing in his ears. “Jimin is not here right now, but… I can get the flowers for him.”
“Sure. Just… Sign here, please.” He offers Taehyung a clipboard with a pen attached to it. Taehyung takes it, doesn’t even know what he’s scribbling, eyes roaming the paper without focus, until they land on a name near the dotted line.
DELIVERED BY: KIM SEOKJIN.
Of course that handsome face also has a handsome name.
He trades the clipboard for the bouquet. Taehyung’s fingers brush over the back of Seokjin’s hand in the process. Seokjin breathes in sharply, looks up at him in wonder, like he’s about to propose again. It makes Taehyung brave, how he’s trying not to openly stare and failing. A shy smile appears on his face despite how hard he’s blushing.
“Thank you, Kim Seokjin.”
Seokjin’s eyes linger on his for a moment before he smiles back, so utterly and shamelessly infatuated. He only breaks eye contact to glance at the clipboard, then laughs through his nose and looks up again.
“You’re welcome, Kim Taehyung.”
Taehyung purses his lips to hold back a chuckle, surprised to have written his own name correctly even though he’s barely functioning. Seokjin shakes his head slightly, like there’s fog around it that he needs to dispel.
“I gotta go… You know, more flowers to deliver.” He points at the pickup truck parked behind him with his thumb. “Have a good night.”
“Sure.” Taehyung nods in slow motion, reluctant to say goodbye, but doing so anyway. “Good night.”
Seokjin walks away, looking over his shoulder every few steps. Taehyung waves discreetly, desperate to say something, yet finding himself tongue-tied. An elderly couple staring at him from their lawn across the street catches his eye, and he remembers once again that he looks like a fucking bride. The realization makes him panic and slam the door shut without another thought.
The loud bang startles him. He hits his forehead on the door a few times before turning around and resting his back on it. A pin pricks him on the rib and he flinches, almost bursts into shameful tears. Why can’t he stop being such a trainwreck for once?
After wallowing in self-pity a little longer, Taehyung drags himself back to Jimin’s room and leaves the flowers on the desk before he also fucks them up somehow. When walking past the mirror, however, he can’t resist standing in front of it, admiring himself now that the outfit is complete. The bouquet is the perfect complement to the dress; he brings it closer to his face and breathes in the lovely perfume.
Seokjin’s words echo in his mind again.
Marry me.
“What the fuck just happened?” He whispers to the petals, trying to calm down his thumping heart.
“What the fuck just happened?” Jimin asks through gritted teeth, once a clump of three guys finally walks away from their workshop station. Taehyung sighs in disbelief.
“I don’t know! They just showed up out of nowhere asking for my number.”
Jimin stifles a laugh. “Jungkook was right. You’ll be the gay awakening of so many men here.”
Taehyung scowls. Surely, he can’t deny that this level of attention is off the charts. The workshop started less than an hour ago and he’s counted at least a dozen dudes handing him their phones when they thought Jimin wasn’t paying attention. Although he appreciates the massive ego booster, there are still five hours to go and Taehyung’s cheeks already hurt from forcing smiles and declining their offers.
Why should he care, when the only guy he’d like to give his number to is not there?
It’s silly and he knows it, but he can’t stop replaying his short conversation with Seokjin in his head, can’t stop sighing at the memory of his charming smile or the feeling of Seokjin’s hand under his fingertips. Whenever someone says the word “marriage” near him—a very common occurrence, since it’s the whole concept of Jimin’s project—, he remembers how Seokjin blurted out a proposal as soon as he opened the door, and his heart melts all over again.
Taehyung decides to pay the flower shop a visit before this crush gets out of hand, maybe get Seokjin’s number or ask him out on a date if he’s lucky. There’s just one little problem: his finals are also on the horizon, and he should spend the whole weekend studying if he wants good grades, which means three more days of longing and daydreaming. Hopefully Seokjin won’t forget him over the weekend.
Another batch of people approach their station, and Jimin steps forward to greet them and explain his work for the umpteenth time. Taehyung figures he’ll finally catch a break: it’s a group of girls this time, far more interested in hearing about and staring at the dress than in flirting with who’s wearing it. He zones out as they touch the different fabrics of the skirt and train, wax poetic about the crystals sprinkled all over it, until one of them compliments the flowers.
So much for trying not to think about Seokjin again.
When the girls are gone, he lets out another exasperated sigh and gives up. The hours aren’t passing by fast enough, and to make matters worse, a guy who’s just been to their station with his girlfriend is currently looking right at him and coming back with his phone in hand. Taehyung is in dire need of a few pleasant thoughts to keep himself sane.
So, of course, he thinks about Seokjin, and only about Seokjin, throughout the rest of the event.
The workshop ends shortly after 3 p.m. Jimin gets endless compliments from his professors, who already knew how amazing he is and expected nothing less from him. They’re even kind enough to thank Taehyung for stepping in at the last minute, after Jimin explains the broken leg incident. As soon as they move on to the next station, Jimin turns to Taehyung with tears of relief in his eyes and a smile from ear to ear. Taehyung can’t help grinning back and pulling him into a hug, heart soaring with pride.
“Congratulations! You did it!”
“We did it,” Jimin sniffles, squeezing him tight before parting. “Thank you so much, Tae. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to help me. You were perfect.”
“Well, it was actually kind of fun.” Taehyung shrugs, lowering his voice so that the few remaining people around won’t hear him. “You know, making all those dudes question their sexuality.”
They share a hearty laugh while heading to the restrooms so Taehyung can change, until a familiar face in the lingering crowd makes him stop on his tracks.
“What’s the matter?” Jimin asks, looking around cluelessly. Taehyung can’t hear him, can’t even breathe or blink or move.
A few steps ahead, Kim Seokjin is standing in a dashing suit and bow tie, with a beautiful bouquet in his hands and a smile that turns Taehyung’s knees to jelly.
“Talk to you later,” is all Taehyung can murmur once the initial shock wears out. All that’s left is a thrilling mix of joy and relief, like he’s been gasping for air all day and can finally breathe now. He almost runs the short distance to Seokjin, nearly tripping on the skirt due to his trembling legs.
“Thank God you’re still here,” Seokjin breathes when they’re face to face, smirking nervously. “For a second I thought I was too late.”
Taehyung stares at him like he’s a mirage. “What are you doing here?”
“Well… Since your roommate had ordered flowers for the workshop and you were…” His eyes trail down Taehyung’s form, and his ears turn red in seconds. “Dressed like this last night, I thought there might be a chance you’d be here today. So I closed the flower shop once all our orders were done and came here as soon as I could.”
Taehyung’s jaw hits the floor. “You… Closed the flower shop? To see me?”
“The perks of being your own boss.” Seokjin shrugs, chuckling shyly. “Speaking of which… I have a flower delivery for Kim Taehyung. Would you happen to know him?”
They share a knowing smile before Seokjin hands him the flowers. Taehyung leans down to smell them and hums in appreciation, looks up at Seokjin with an arched brow.
“Do you always dress up like this for deliveries?”
Seokjin averts his gaze. “Not really. But I couldn’t risk showing up underdressed again.”
“I think I’m the one who’s overdressed,” Taehyung laughs, covering half of his face with one hand. Seokjin smiles, but his eyes are hazy, unfocused. His eyebrows furrow slightly, like he’s deep in thought; he reaches out to touch Taehyung’s hair, swirling a strand around his index.
“Is overdressing a habit of yours?”
Taehyung shivers, not because of the question itself, but because Seokjin’s voice is so low all of a sudden. It makes his skin tingle under the dress.
“Not at all,” he sighs, running out of breath as Seokjin’s presence envelopes him further. “I’ve never… Never worn a dress before. This was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”
“I agree,” Seokjin nods, grinning wide. His hand comes down to cup Taehyung’s face, thumb caressing under his eye. “That’s why I had to come here. I’d never forgive myself if I let you slip away.”
Seokjin looks down at his lips, breath warm on Taehyung’s skin. His smile fades, gives way to desire, the same desire that’s consuming Taehyung from inside out. He doesn’t understand what force is pulling them together so strongly, doesn’t care whether he should surrender to Seokjin’s charms that easily or keep him coming back for more, doesn’t mind that they look like a newlywed couple exchanging vows in public.
This stranger has done everything in his power so that they could meet again, like a fucking prince. Why should Taehyung let such meaningless matters get in their way?
“Marry me,” he whispers into Seokjin’s lips, closes his eyes and surrenders.
Their kiss is gentle and tender, firm and rough, everything at once yet nothing like Taehyung could ever describe. Seokjin pulls him close, sucks Taehyung’s bottom lip into his mouth, breathes in the air Taehyung breathes out. His arm around Taehyung’s waist is the only thing keeping him standing when they part, breathless and dazed. Seokjin smiles like he’s the king of the world.
“I can’t believe that was the first thing I said to you,” he laughs, blushing at the memory. “In my defense, I was sleep deprived and you looked like an angel.”
Taehyung hides his face in the curve of Seokjin’s neck, breathes him in. He smells so much better than the flowers, if that’s even possible. “It was the cutest thing ever. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“I’m glad you weren’t freaked out.”
“I’m glad you weren’t freaked out by the dress.”
“Does that make both of us freaks?”
Taehyung throw his head back laughing. “I think so? Everyone here must be looking at us funny.”
They look around jokingly, but not a single soul is paying attention to them. The few people around are either packing up their stuff or cleaning up the place.
Seokjin shakes his head. “Tsk. No one’s even looking at us.”
“Bummer.” Taehyung pouts. “I kind of wanted us to be freaks.”
“Fine, I’ll say it. You’re freaks.”
Taehyung jumps and turns around at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Jimin laughs beside him and gets all of them laughing as well, like always.
“So you’re the Park Jimin.” Seokjin bows once Taehyung has introduced them. “I’d like to thank you for your flower order.”
“And for this beautiful dress.” Jungkook adds. “I hope you won’t be too disappointed when Taehyung changes to normal clothes.”
“Shut up!” Taehyung protests, slapping his shoulder. Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to reply.
“I won’t.”
Jungkook nudges Jimin and points at Taehyung. “Oh, my God, look at him. He’s blushing!”
Seokjin cranes his neck forward to catch a glimpse of his face, but Taehyung covers it with both hands and groans.
“God, Jungkook, can you please shut up?”
“Alright, guys.” Jimin says, clapping his hands to get everybody to focus. “As happy as I am to have brought you together, I can’t let you lovebirds ruin my masterpiece. Taehyung, you come with me to the restroom. Jungkook, be nice to Seokjin until we come back, understood?”
Jungkook nods and accepts the bouquet Taehyung vengefully pushes into his arms. Seokjin lets him go, though his eyes are still on Taehyung when he looks over his shoulder after a few steps. As soon as they reach the restroom, Taehyung lets out a dreamy sigh and fake faints against the wall.
“Oh, my God, Tae!” Jimin exclaims, shaking him by the shoulders with an ecstatic smile. “I’m so happy for you! That guy looks like a dream!”
“I’m still not entirely sure he’s real,” Taehyung admits, taking off the headpiece and turning around to let Jimin unzip him. Ridiculous as that may be, his body is complaining about being apart from Seokjin. He can’t wait to be in his arms again.
“Of course he’s real, and may I add, so damn smitten!” Jimin helps him undress with agile hands, tossing him the backpack with his clothes right after. “You get back out there and have the time of your life, then tell me all about it later, okay?”
With a smile so big he can barely see Jimin’s face in front of him, Taehyung nods and dresses up as fast as he can. He almost leaves the restroom wearing his shirt inside out, if not for Jimin pointing it out at the last minute. Taehyung gives him a quick hug as thanks before rushing out.
Seokjin’s eyes are on him the moment he steps outside. He doesn’t look disappointed in the slightest with his jeans and plain white T-shirt. The fond smile on his face makes Taehyung quicken his steps to reach him faster. Upon spotting him, Jungkook bows at Seokjin and sets out to join Jimin at the restroom. Taehyung playfully slaps his shoulder again as they walk past each other.
He can’t stop himself from jumping into Seokjin’s embrace, arms wrapped around his neck like they haven’t spent only five minutes apart.
“Now I’m the underdressed one,” he murmurs into Seokjin’s ear.
“Still the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Seokjin answers, pulling back to look at him with a radiant grin. Taehyung’s face burns like a teenager in love for the first time. Of course, this might not be love yet, but if Seokjin goes on taking his breath away like that, his poor heart is in grave danger. He leans in for a quick kiss, smiles against Seokjin’s lips.
“Let’s get out of here?”
Seokjin nods right away. “Have you eaten?”
“Not yet. I’m starving.”
“I know a nice place nearby.”
“Okay, but first…” He stops Seokjin again after a few steps, takes off his jacket and stuffs the bow tie in one of the pockets before throwing it over his own shoulders. “Now pull your sleeves up. That way we don’t look so weird together.”
“I thought you wanted us to be freaks?” Seokjin squints, but does as he’s told.
“I meant cute and dorky kind of freaks, not sugar baby and daddy kind of freaks.”
“Oh.” Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows. “Whatever rows your boat… Baby.”
Taehyung blushes up to his hairline, and it gets worse when Seokjin winks at him. He opens the top buttons of Seokjin’s shirt and pulls him into a quick, feverish kiss.
“Shut up and lead the way, daddy.”
Seokjin glitches for a second, nostrils flared while he breathes deeply to recompose himself. “I’m seriously gonna need you to marry me.”
Taehyung doesn’t reply, just laughs and follows when Seokjin takes him by the hand.
Something deep inside his heart tells him that the idea is not too far-fetched to become reality someday.