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The crisis starts on New Year’s Day.
Seokjin and Taehyung stumble home from Namjoon and Yoongi’s party in a tumble of drunken words and steps. It takes several tries for them to unlock the door and when they do, Taehyung makes it no further than the shoe rack before he’s unbuttoning his shirt and tousling his hair. His yawn rivals a lion's roar. The second Seokjin’s shoes are also off, Taehyung collapses against the elder.
“I can’t take one more step,” he declares dramatically. “Please carry me.”
“Too dangerous,” Seokjin slurs. He affectionately cards a hand through the younger’s pink locks. “Might drop you.” Even so, he turns Taehyung so they are back to chest and links his arms under his shoulders. Nudging Taehyung’s leg with his knee, he instructs him forward. The trip to Taehyung’s room is messy and uncoordinated, but they laugh their way there carelessly.
“We need to drink water,” Seokjin states. Taehyung doesn’t answer, too focused on the button of his slacks that suddenly feels glued shut. He fumbles with it helplessly, as if his fingers were twice their normal size. Seokjin grabs his best friend by the wrist. “Let me help you,” he insists, already working the button out of the hole.
Taehyung kicks the pants off and then goes back to the shirt, meeting equal difficulty. Seokjin helps him again. “You’re such a baby when you’re drunk.” When he looks back at Taehyung’s face, the younger is pouting. He’s also swaying in place.
“What’s wrong?” Seokjin gently queries.
“You only baby me when I’m drunk,” he whines. Seokjin instinctively tuts, endeared.
“Cause you’re a grown man, Taehyung-ah,” he explains as he pushes the sleeves of Taehyung’s green shirt off his shoulders. “You don’t need to be babied.”
Taehyung sighs. Before Seokjin can brace himself, Taehyung falls right into Seokjin’s chest and buries his face in the elder's neck. He can feel Taehyung’s breath on his throat as he mutters, “like being your baby.”
Seokjin’s heart does a somersault. For a moment, he tries to convince himself he misheard Taehyung. Then he unabashedly complains, “You never kiss me on New Year’s, hyung.”
Seokjin is grateful Taehyung cannot see the burning red of his cheeks from this angle. He’s frozen in place. He cannot get his body to do anything except awkwardly pat his best friend’s back and say, “I didn’t know I was supposed to?”
Taehyung lets out a guttural groan. Lifting his head again, Seokjin notices his pout has become somehow more pronounced. “Don’t you love me?” He asks. Are those tears in his eyes? Seokjin wipes at the corners.
Heart hammering in his chest, he replies, “Of course, Tae-yah, you’re my best friend.”
Taehyung huffs and collapses back into Seokjin, wrapping his arms around him as he hooks his chin over Seokjin’s shoulder. “You don’t get it,” he murmurs petulantly.
Is Taehyung flirting with me? Seokjin wonders. It seems impossible. He’s seen the men Taehyung dates. Artistic, with vibrant, interesting careers and cool hobbies like sommelier classes or pilot training. The opposite of Seokjin, with his penchant for staying at home and HR job. Seokjin hardly feels drunk anymore. At a loss, Seokjin leaves a feather-light kiss on the side of Taehyung’s head.
“There, a New Year’s kiss.” Taehyung giggles as he squeezes Seokjin closer. “Will you stop complaining and let me put on your pajamas?”
Seokjin manages to get Taehyung in some athletic shorts and a white t-shirt that he’s pretty sure belongs to him. How it ended up in Taehyung’s room is a mystery he’s willing to leave unsolved. Once dressed, the younger sighs, content, and collapses onto the bed with his eyes already closed. Seokjin turns to go but is interrupted by the drumming of Taehyung’s hand on the empty space in the bed next to him.
“No, hyung, you sleep too,” Taehyung insists with another yawn.
“I have my own bed, Tae,” Seokjin reminds him with a chuckle. Taehyung frowns again, winking one eye open to glare at the elder.
“It’s bad luck to enter a New Year sleeping alone.”
Seokjin lets out a resigned sigh. Stripping off his own slacks, he reminds Taehyung, “Technically, it’s already the New Year.”
Taehyung reaches a hand out to him and tugs him onto the bed by his undershirt. “Still counts,” he grumbles. The second Seokjin is lying down, Taehyung has every limb wrapped around him. He nuzzles into Seokjin’s collarbone, abandoning his pillow completely, and hums happily. “You smell nice.”
If Taehyung was not drunk, he would probably be able to make out Seokjin’s erratic heartbeat or notice his unusually high temperature. What has gotten into this kid? Seokjin wonders fondly. He absentmindedly replies, “You do, too.”
Taehyung falls silent for several moments. Seokjin nearly believes he’s completely asleep until he whispers, half in slumber, “Next year I’ll get my real kiss.”
It takes Seokjin another hour to fall asleep as that phrase rotates endlessly through his mind.
When Seokjin awakens several hours later, Taehyung is already out of bed. He can hear the shower running in the younger’s adjoining bathroom. Now, in a sobered state, Seokjin feels even more alarmed and confused by Taehyung’s action. Sure, he’s an affectionate person. This was not their first night of cuddling and falling asleep in the same bed. And they are best friends, after all. Seokjin shouldn’t feel shy voicing his fondness.
So why do his cheeks burn red at the thought of Taehyung asking him for a “real kiss”? Why do his palms sweat when he thinks of Taehyung demands to be cared for and praised?
Seokjin leaps out of Taehyung’s bed as if burned and scurries back to his room. He quickly changes into a baby blue sweatsuit that does not smell like Taehyung. In his own bathroom, he downs an aspirin, splashes some cold water on his face, and takes deep breaths. When the image of Taehyung’s delirious smile no longer causes his heart rate to escalate to a concerning speed, he exits his room.
Taehyung is already in the kitchen. His hair is most dry save for a few stray pieces clinging to his forehead. He’s dressed casually in a new white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, his black glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
He barely glances at Seokjin. “I’m making tea,” he informs the elder. His tone gives away zero emotions. “And I’ve already ordered tteokbokki.” Taehyung withdraws a second mug from the cupboard. “Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please,” Seokjin says, uneasy. Is Taehyung going to acknowledge our conversation?
Taehyung prepares Seokjin coffee, just as he likes it. When he slides it across the counter to him, Seokjin catches a proper glimpse of Taehyung’s red cheeks and tired eyes.
Seokjin sets down the mug without taking a sip and reaches out to cup the younger’s cheeks. “Are you feeling okay, Tae-yah? You feel so warm.”
“S’just a hangover,” Taehyung mutters. “It’ll pass.” His frown deepens. “I don’t even remember how we got home last night.”
Seokjin grimaces. “We took a taxi. You don’t remember anything?” Taehyung shakes his head. Seokjin removes his hand from Taehyung’s face before he can feel the sweat on his palms.
“Why? Was I embarrassing?”
“No, not at all,” Seokjin adamantly denies. He aggressively sips his coffee to hide his flushed cheeks. “You just wouldn’t let me leave your room.”
“Ah, that’s why you slept in there. I thought maybe you were just cold.”
As the two laugh together, Seokjin feels some tension leave his body. Still, his mind drifts. He finds himself mentally comparing Taehyung’s smile to other natural beauties. Is there anything in the world more stunning than his best friend’s boxy grin?
That afternoon, when the two of them lounge on the couch and get into an argument over Mario Kart, Seokjin starts to consider that he might have a problem.
The problem with developing a crush on your best friend is that you already think they’re wonderful. Seokjin could wax poetic about Taehyung’s talents from the beginning of their friendship. The younger has always astounded him. Now, the astonishment causes him some degree of pain. It feels unfair that the younger should be so attractive, so creative, and so charming. Where before it would bring him great pride, now it feels like a punishment.
When Taehyung brings his work home and shows off the magazine spreads he has expertly art directed, Seokjin’s praises sound strained. Not because Taehyung is unworthy of them, no, but because seeing the world through Taehyung’s eyes only makes the elder more in awe of him. He could never do what Taehyung does. Taehyung sees the world so differently. In his eyes, it’s beautiful. Seokjin’s mind seems far plainer in comparison.
“These are spectacular, Tae-yah,” Seokjin assures him. The photos are all black and white close-ups of an obscured face. Cut jawline, plush parted lips, long eyelashes. Taehyung’s cheeks puff up with his proud smile. “Your best yet.”
“Thanks, hyung. You were my inspiration, you know.”
Seokjin nearly collapses right there.
“Me?” He gapes. “How?”
Taehyung traces a photo of black hair hanging on a forehead. “The model reminded me of you. All those pretty features...” Taehyung trails off. He shakes a thought away before continuing, “You could have been a model, you know.”
Seokjin huffs out a nervous laugh. “I think you’re confusing the two of us, Taehyung-ah.” Seokjin squeezes Taehyung’s shoulder companionably. It takes effort to let go, aching to keep his hand there. “But I am very flattered.”
The problem with crushing on your roommate is that you’re together all the time. In the morning, Seokjin goes for breakfast and Taehyung is already in the kitchen, pouting at a plate of burnt toast. Seokjin cannot even be mad at him for the pungent smell when he looks so cute when he’s dejected.
“I’ll make eggs,” Seokjin suggests without pause. It wipes the frown away and instantly transforms Taehyung’s face into one of his brilliant smiles. It constricts Seokjin’s heart instantly.
In the afternoon, they go to do their laundry together and Seokjin notices a shirt he is sure belongs to him getting thrown into Taehyung’s washer. It’s old, from college. “Isn’t that mine?” He asks lightheartedly.
Taehyung’s cheeks burn. “You never wear it anyway.” Seokjin doesn’t ask for it back.
In the evenings, when Seokjin tells Taehyung he’ll be up late wrapping up a project for work. Taehyung chastises him for bringing work home but makes him a cup of coffee anyway and stays up late, too, just to keep him company in silence.
The problem with falling in love is that it happens so fast. One day Seokjin is simply wondering what it might be like to press his lips against Taehyung’s and the next day they’re on a late night walk. Taehyung had told Seokjin that Jupiter would be visible that night and begged the elder to leave the city with him to see it properly. So here they are, up on a hill just outside of Seoul, walking away from the parking lot and into a nearby clearing. And the sky is beautiful, full of more stars than Seokjin has seen in years, and absolutely freezing because it’s late January but he doesn’t care.
He doesn’t care because Taehyung pulls him close by the collar and buttons his coat all the way up. He holds Seokjin’s face in his hands for warmth and shoots him a brilliant smile before tilting his head up. Their chests are touching when Taehyung points to the bright spot that is Jupiter but that planet is the furthest thing from his mind. One day Seokjin was only thinking about kissing Taehyung and today he’s consumed. Head to toe, blooming outward from his heart, an undeniable outpouring of love he’s never felt before. In the seconds it takes him to look at Jupiter then back at Taehyung, he knows he’s fallen. Hard.
Eventually, Taehyung looks back at him. His dark eyes reflect the night sky, somehow making him even lovelier. His smile explodes Seokjin’s heart like a supernova. He stares at his best friend and he wants like he’s never wanted before. It is too easy to fall in love with Taehyung because he already loved him more than most things as a friend. Now Seokjin just loves him more than all things. More than all the stars in the galaxy, exploding and shining their light down upon them.
“I think I’m losing my mind,” Seokjin tells Namjoon. He can hear dishes clattering in the background. He should feel bad for interrupting his friends at dinner time but his distress muddles the guilt. “I’ve never felt this way before, Joon-ah, I don’t know what to do.”
“You should just talk to him, hyung,” Namjoon calmly advises. “Swallowing all this down isn’t going to help.” Seokjin can barely make out Yoongi in the background demanding to speak with him. “Hold on, hyung, my boyfriend has something he wants to say to you.”
A beep indicates he’s on speaker phone. Before Seokjin can get a greeting out, Yoongi sternly states, “This better be about Taehyung.” The eldest tries to interrupt but Yoongi barrels right over him. “Hyung, I don’t know where you’ve been for the last five years, but you and Taehyung have been dancing around each other from the day you met. Somehow it has been obvious to everyone except the two of you. And I know I’m one to talk — “ Seokjin can imagine the tender glance Yoongi is giving Namjoon as he says this “ — but pining is painful, hyung. And neither of you should go through that. You’re too smart for it. Not to mention I already lost $50 to Namjoon over this.”
“What? How?”
“Because somehow Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok have managed to sort out their shit before the two of you. So I’m running out of patience, frankly.”
“This is a great pep talk, babe. You should do TED talks.”
“Hyung, think about it,” Yoongi presses. “Taehyung is the only person who’s allowed to borrow your clothes. I’ve seen you cancel dates so that you can go to the jazz club with him. Even the people you do go out with all look remarkably similar to him. You’re always talking about him, whether or not he’s there, and I’ve heard you refer to him as your favorite person several times! I cannot think of two people more suited for each other. Except for, you know, me and Joon.”
“Thanks, yeobo.”
“Am I the last person to find out that Taehyung and I are in love?”
“Yes,” his friends state in unison.
“Now please go confess and have sex so I can stop watching you eye fuck each other every Friday night. It is unhealthy for everyone involved.”
Seokjin barely sleeps. When he’s at work, it takes a conscious effort to block Taehyung from his thoughts. The photo of the two of them on his desk does not help his distraction. Every minute of downtime is dedicated to thoughts of Taehyung - his laugh, his smile. The mole at the end of his nose. His firm but tender touch.
Seokjin was never a man for poetry but suddenly he can relate to the poet’s desire to fill pages of odes to one person. He could do it, he thinks, if he tried. A hundred poems would be dedicated to Taehyung’s cheeks alone.
Their schedules are too busy to have a proper conversation about all the feelings floating between them that Seokjin has now only begun noticing. Their home feels electrified and it scares the elder shitless. Every day brings a new challenge, especially when Taehyung comes home with a new piercing or he takes extra time in the morning to curl his hair.
Yes, Seokjin is definitely suffering.
He tells himself he’ll come clean. They both have a three-day weekend coming up. He’ll plan a day for just the two of them, he decides, and he’ll confess. That way, if he gets rejected, he has an extra day to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart.
What he doesn’t anticipate is for Taehyung to come home on Friday night with dejection written all over his pretty features. The second he walks in the door, he drops his brown leather satchel to the ground, looks Seokjin squarely in the face, and asks, “Are you mad at me?”
Seokjin drops the knife he’d been using to cut green onions. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
Pouting, Taehyung stares at his feet as he mumbles, “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Seokjin head spins. He tries to recall the last few weeks, and all of his interactions with the younger. He supposes he had been more reserved than usual. They’d eaten fewer meals together and Seokjin declined an offering to watch a movie together on Wednesday. Was he avoiding Taehyung? Perhaps, unconsciously, yes.
Seokjin wipes his hands on a washcloth and crosses the room to Taehyung.
“Tae-yah, I’m sorry.” Taehyung continues to stare at his feet until Seokjin lays a hand at the nape of his neck. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind. Hyung is sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel neglected.”
Taehyung sniffles as he peeks up at Seokjin through his eyelashes. “Are you going to make it up to me?” He coyly whispers. Seokjin relaxes, face breaking out into a relieved smile.
“Of course. I’m making dinner right now. For both of us.” Seokjin averts his gaze, feeling shy as he adds, “I was wondering if you’d want to get out of the city tomorrow? Since it’s a long weekend and everything.”
Taehyung grins, sated and pleased. “I’d love to, hyung.”
Taehyung helps Seokjin finish cooking. Really, the only task Seokjin feels comfortable assigning him is mixing the kimchi. Taehyung performs the task diligently while Seokjin prepares the remainder of the bibimbap. Taehyung chatters about that day’s shoot, mainly complaining about the model.
“He was unprofessional,” Taehyung declares. “Didn’t follow direction well at all. Hoseok-hyung was furious. He wrote a very mean letter to the agent.”
“I pity them,” Seokjin says with a chuckle. “Hoseok-ah doesn’t hold back.”
Taehyung asks Seokjin questions about his day as they eat. “It probably sounds so boring compared to your job,” Seokjin deflects but Taehyung shakes his head.
“I like hearing you talk about it, hyung,” the younger assures him. The dull ache in Seokjin’s heart roars back to life.
After dinner, Seokjin asks Taehyung to watch a movie with him. Taehyung agrees with a tender smile, already diving onto the couch. They decide to watch The Matrix because they both love it and haven’t seen it in a while. Taehyung ends up slouched against Seokjin’s shoulder clutching a pillow to his chest with one hand while the other sits on Seokjin’s knee.
Seokjin cannot concentrate on the movie. All of his thoughts are dedicated to Taehyung’s long fingers caressing Seokjin’s knee.
“Where do you want to go tomorrow, hyung?” Taehyung casually inquires. They’ve seen the movie enough times to permit talking over the dialogue.
“Wherever you want, Tae-yah.” Seokjin’s ears burn red. “We could go hiking, or to that ski resort we went to a couple of years ago.”
“What about Nami Island?”
Seokjin’s pulse races. He visualizes Taehyung in the snow-dusted trees. It’s a romantic destination, no doubt about it.
Feeling emboldened, Seokjin lays his hand on top of Taehyung’s and laces their fingers together. “If that’s where you want to go, then we can go.” He looks down at the younger, so comfortable at his side. Like he was made to be there. Taehyung tilts his head and gazes back at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “What?” Seokjin asks, anxious again.
Taehyung sits up. Seokjin misses his warmth and subconsciously clutches his hand tighter, afraid Taehyung is going to leave. He doesn’t. Instead, he drops the pillow and turns his body to face Seokjin completely, television be damned. Seokjin can’t hear the dialogue anyway. Not when Taehyung is looking right into his eyes, peering into the depths of Seokjin’s soul.
“What’s wrong?” Seokjin repeats, voice quavering.
The strange look on his face doesn’t go away. Taehyung pauses then says, “You’re my best friend.”
And as if a light switch has been flicked in his brain, Seokjin understands completely. Tentatively, slow enough that Taehyung could stop him at any point, Seokjin slides his hand up Taehyung’s arm until it tangles in his hair. Seokjin cannot hear anything but Taehyung’s breathing, just inches from his face.
“Taehyung-ah,” he whispers, tilting his face even closer so that their noses brush. “Is this okay?”
Taehyung gasps out a wanton, “Yes.” Without pulling away, Seokjin brings his other hand to Taehyung’s cheek and traces a thumb across the bottom of his lip.
“You’re my best friend too,” he murmurs. Then Taehyung kisses him.
Taehyung kisses Seokjin like it’s the only way he can survives. He kisses like he’s sucking the very life force out of him and Seokjin surrenders willingly. Taehyung can have it all, every bit of him that he wants. Taehyung clutches Seokjin’s shoulders as he clambers into his lap and Seokjin receives him willingly, sliding his hands down Taehyung’s waist to hold him by the waist. Every particle of air between them is too much space. Seokjin wants Taehyung to surround him completely, to die being suffocated by Taehyung’s lips.
“Hyung,” Taehyung whines, breathless. He can’t seem to form any other words. “Hyung.”
“Shh, I know baby,” Seokjin calms, coaxing him back in for more. “I know.” Taehyung’s lips are puffed and swollen by the time Seokjin pulls away again. “You can tell me.”
Taehyung settles his forehead against Seokjin’s. His hands rest at the base of the elder’s throat, playing with the collar of his now rumpled shirt. “Hyung, I love you,” he confesses. Seokjin hardly contains his happy, choked sob. “I’m in love with you.”
“I love you, too.” Saying it out loud relieves Seokjin. The weight in his chest he’d been carrying around disappears. He feels light as air, like he could float into heaven with Taehyung in his arms. “I think I always have. It just took me a while to realize it.” Seokjin kisses a mole on Taehyung’s cheek. It’s satisfying as he imagined. “I’m sorry I made you wait.”
Taehyung connects their lips again, pressing Seokjin further into the couch. “I’ll forgive you,” he promises. Seokjin has never heard his voice so deep. If this is his sex voice, Seokjin surely won’t survive the night. “As long as you promise not to stop.”
“God no,” Seokjin swears before he dives in for more. He’s pleased to discover that Taehyung is a biter. He teases Seokjin’s bottom lip between kisses, dragging a moan out of the elder. Seokjin, in turn, slides his hands under Taehyung’s shirt and up his back. Taehyung shivers at the touch. When he grinds down, Seokjin can feel Taehyung is just as worked up as he is. Taehyung tugs at Seokjin’s shirt eagerly, attempting to pop open the buttons without detaching their mouths.
“Taehyung-ah, Tae-yah,” Seokjin tuts with a chuckle. He takes Taehyung’s hands and holds them, preventing the younger from undressing him any further. “We should slow down.”
Taehyung’s killer pout returns. “Hyung I just told you I love you, we live together, and you’re not even my boyfriend yet. I think it’s a little late for that.”
“Oh, yes I am.” Seokjin adamantly corrects. “I am yours completely, Taehyung-ah.” Taehyung blushes beet red.
“Yah, you can’t say shit like that then say you want to take things slow.”
“I meant this, baby,” the elder explains gently. He decides to give Taehyung’s reddened lips a break and slowly trails kisses across Taehyung’s jaw and down his throat. “Want to take my time with you. I want to remember every moment of this.”
“But hyung,” Taehyung sighs, shifting impatiently on Seokjin’s lap. “I’ve waited so long.” He gasps when Seokjin begins to suck a mark at the juncture of his neck. “Want you now.”
“We have all weekend.” Without warning, Seokjin wraps his arms around Taehyung’s middle again and stands. Taehyung squeals, delighted. “And I don’t plan on letting you out of my bed.”
“What about Nami Island?” Taehyung asks, clearly joking. There’s no way they’re even leaving the apartment.
“Next week,” Seokjin promises. “I’ll take you on a real date.”
“Will we kiss at the end?”
“Of course.”
As Seokjin drops Taehyung on his bed, careful to aim his head for the pillows, the younger adds, “What about on New Year’s?”
Seokjin’s jaw drops. Taehyung grins smugly up at him, obviously pleased with himself. “You brat!” Seokjin exclaims as he climbs on the bed with him, propping himself up by the elbows to avoid crushing Taehyung completely. “You do remember.”
“It was all part of my plan,” Taehyung brags. He starts removing Seokjin’s shirt again. This time, the elder allows it.
“So devious,” Seokjin purrs, brushing his lips over Taehyung’s once more. “Tricking me into falling for you.”
“It wasn’t a trick,” Taehyung assures. His honey eyes fill Seokjin with comforting warmth. When Taehyung gazes at him, Seokjin feels like the only person on earth. “I just had to make you see what I already knew.”
“Which is?”
“You are in love.”