Work Text:
Very Bad Soulmate
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Sunday, 1:34pm
Taehyung wakes up with the distinct feeling of having slept in his laundry machine. Not that he ever tried (nor is planning to), but conceptually… that's probably how it would feel, and it is not pleasant. Still, Taehyung wakes up and besides the physical distress of having conceptually slept in a washing machine, he feels no mental distress, which is a good sign. Maybe. What he does feel is more like… confusion. The eluding certainty he's forgetting something. Eh. It'll come back if it's important, Taehyung thinks; for now, what he cares about is getting rid of the conceptual-washing-machine-induced physical distress.
Carefully, he sits up in his bed and squints around. His blinds are almost all the way down, leaving just the tiny holes between each blade; enough to let a little light in without getting blinded by the midday sun. The filtered rays are a wet bluish-grey, though. There probably is no midday sun to blind anyone around here, hidden behind the heavy curtain of rain that has been covering Seoul for half of October. (While other people yearn for the return of warmer, brighter weather, Taehyung likes it. The rain. It makes everything feel extra cosy. Even with a first-rate hangover.)
With a small jolt as his body starts to sag back onto his mattress, Taehyung realises he was well on his way to falling back asleep. The roiling sensation in his stomach makes him wince. He needs to get up, shower, eat something ridiculously greasy, and then maybe he'll award himself a little nap. Only after those tasks are complete will he maybe try to decipher the nagging thought that something important happened.
It takes three more cycles of dozing off and jolting awake for Taehyung to finally manage getting out of bed. He stumbles into his bathroom without turning the lights on, shedding his pyjamas on the way, and goes straight into the shower. He yelps as the first jet of freezing water hits him square on the face, but thankfully his water heater is brand new and soon enough, he's being boiled like a lobster. It's like the scalding liquid physically drains the headache away. It unravels the knots in Taehyung's back, in his shoulders, burns the tension loose. He stands there, eyes closed, searing rain dripping down his body. God, it helps. The nausea ebbs, slowly replaced by hunger. He starts to feel human again, if not quite awake yet.
When he has regained sufficient control of his limbs and feels appropriately steamed, Taehyung grabs the soap and starts washing himself thoroughly. He vaguely remembers rinsing off before passing out last night, but clearly it wasn't enough to get rid of the stench of alcohol and sweat. The delicate smell of jasmine tea helps with that, erasing the traces of excess drinking and frantic dancing. Soon Taehyung's breath flows easier, smoothed by the flowery steam. He rinses off, watching the thin foam swirl around the drain, and heads out, thanking the very existence of his heating towel rail. The cloth is deliciously warm, keeping him in a comfy cocoon.
At this point, Taehyung is pretty confident the hangover isn't that bad after all. Breakfast will handle the remainder of his upset stomach and make the headache disappear entirely; after that, a blessed afternoon of doing absolutely nothing seems in order. It's perfect, really.
Oh, how wrong he is.
As he finishes drying his skin, he gives his usual glance at the timer on his wrist, still a little sleepy, distractedly tender. He's already looking back at the fogged-up mirror before it reaches his brain—and makes him double-take so fast it almost gives him whiplash.
00:00:00.
Shit.
.
Taetae: hey chim quick question
Jiminie: ?
Taetae: how many people were at your party last night
Jiminie: couple hundreds, give or take
Jiminie: why
Taetae: [picture sent]
Taetae: i think my soulmate's one of them
Jiminie: .
Jiminie: .
Jiminie: .
Jiminie: i cant breathe 🤣😭
Jiminie: just fyi yoongs read that over my shoulder and he did the shriek-howl thing and now hes sobbing
Taetae: you two are always so compassionate 😒
Jiminie: i told you you were drinking too much
Jiminie: also, out of those 200, how many did you kiss?
Taetae: … 6? i think i can name 6
Jiminie: more like 16
Taetae: 😱
Jiminie: at least
Jiminie: if youre wondering about your logic now, you said you were "trying to know your soulmate through a magical first kiss instead of relying on the cold technicality of your timer"
Taetae: … i see why drunk me would think like that
Taetae: but what do i do now?
Jiminie: i guess start with those 6 people you remember kissing. if you did kiss your soulmate, i bet its not one of those you forgot
Taetae: true
Taetae: i gotta investigate
Taetae: ttyl
Jiminie: good luck
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Saturday, 6:07pm
Taehyung walks in feeling like he owns the world. Tonight, while technically being Jimin's 25th birthday party, is Taehyung's night. Tonight, sometime around midnight, he's meeting his soulmate; on his wrist, the seconds are ticking away, getting closer and closer to the much awaited zero.
It is nerve-wracking, but as nervous as he might be, Taehyung practically vibrates with impatience. He dressed up for the occasion, donning a silky ensemble of black slacks and shirt with a flowy, crystal-embroidered, fiery-red robe. He likes the drama, sue him. His make-up has never been so perfect, a little smokey, his dark eyes already smouldering, his lips with the barest touch of shimmer. Knowing Jimin, most of the guests tonight will be models and producers and fancy people; Taehyung can't be outshined by any of them (except one, maybe). He has to stand out. He has to find his one, true love tonight.
What he does find first—or rather, what does find him first—is a shriek in his ear and a sudden bouncy hug. Hobi. Taehyung grins at the mouthful of hair and the armful of rainbow. Hoseok is one of the fancy guests that he does know, and one of his favourite people in the world.
"It's tonight then?" Hobi asks, stepping back to hold Taehyung at arm's length. Then he raises a finger and makes a swirling motion; Taehyung obeys and spins around slowly. "You look devastating, baby. I hope your clothes aren't dry-clean only, cause you're getting drool all over you tonight, I'm telling you."
"I'll gladly forsake these clothes in exchange for a drooling soulmate," Taehyung chuckles.
"Legit," Hobi grins, sunny as ever. "C'mon, let's get you a drink. The margaritas are ridiculous."
.
Sunday, 2:17pm
The plan is simple: call the people he knows he kissed. If his soulmate is one of them, all good. If they aren't, ask around to know who else he kissed. If luck still evades him… Nah, luck won't evade him. It's gonna be fine. Still, the question persists: if one of those he kisses is his soulmate, why doesn't he remember? Why didn't they say something about it, give him a name and number maybe? Taehyung frowns. Maybe the plan should start before any calls are made, with a thorough investigation of yesterday's pockets.
His party clothes are discarded by his bed, shimmery pile of silk and beads. They are dry-clean only, in fact, and Taehyung frowns as he looks at them. He could swear he got wet at some point, but no stain is to be found anywhere. Weird, but still a good thing, so Taehyung stops worrying about the state of the fabric and dives into the pockets of the robe first. He comes up empty, save for a handful of glitter that makes him wince as it immediately flies everywhere despite his efforts to contain it. His trouser pockets come up empty as well, and there is no pocket on his shirt. Taehyung pouts. Time for the calls then.
Before he picks up the phone, he makes a list of the people he kissed by order of probability. Sungwoo. Eunhee. Jaehwan. Hyunshik. The blue-haired guy whose name he forgot. Seulgi. None of them feel right. Even Sungwoo, at the top of the list, seems unfit to be Taehyung's soulmate. Not that any of them are bad or anything. Lovely people, really, and in most cases, excellent kissers, but none that Taehyung really wants to kiss again. None that Taehyung feels like he'd want to spend the rest of his life with. None that clicks.
Oh, well. Maybe he doesn't remember well enough because of all the stupid margaritas he drank. Damn Hobi and his offer of liquid courage when Taehyung admitted that he was kind of nervous. It skews what little memory he has of the previous night. So Taehyung decides not to trust his unsteady instincts: he'll at least call Sungwoo. If it's not him, Taehyung's pretty sure it won't be any of the others. He'll have to find another strategy.
The phone rings for a while before it gets picked up. Taehyung is greeted by a voice he does not expect. A female voice. His memory of the party is fuzzy at best, but he does remember Sungwoo having a voice as deep as his own.
"Hi, uh… I thought this was Sungwoo's number," Taehyung stumbles. "I'm Taehyung? From last night?"
"Oh!" the woman on the phone exclaims. "The guy with the red robe? You have a very impressive looking tongue."
"I beg your pardon?"
A tinkling laugh, then blank noise, then, finally, Sungwoo's voice.
"Sorry about that," he chuckles. "My sis is the one who picked me up last night and she saw everything. Anyway! Awfully early for you to call after a party like this, Tae. I'm barely awake. Missing me already?"
Taehyung is cringing so hard he thinks his teeth are gonna crack. No way that guy is his soulmate (no way he'll tolerate a sister-in-law that feels comfortable commenting on his tongue, thank you very much), but he pushes through despite the flaming embarrassment. Sungwoo said nothing about soulmates, but maybe they discussed it last night? Who knows.
"Uhhh," Taehyung very eloquently starts. "No, I mean, it's just… look, it's… oh, man, this is ridiculous. I have about zero recollection of last night," he explains—quite poorly. "All I know is that we kissed, and also I met my soulmate during the party, but I don't know when or who. So…"
Silence on the other side, but Taehyung decides he won't put his foot in his mouth any further. Sungwoo is probably smart enough to understand the hidden question.
"...oh," the man eventually answers, sounding puzzled and a little amused. "Oh! Oh, Tae— I'm flattered, but I'm really sorry. My timer's still going, I'm not your soulmate. I wouldn't have minded a bit of fun with you, but I'm guessing that's not what you're looking for right now, eh?"
"Not really, but thanks," Taehyung says, ready to bury himself in his bed and never come out again. "Uh… bye, I guess."
"Bye. Good luck finding them, mate. Keep me posted!"
Taehyung looks at his phone, his messy-haired reflection pouting on the black screen. He's not going through another stupid conversation like this one and he's certainly not keeping anyone posted. But what now? His memories aren't enough to help. He needs evidence. Concrete proof of what happened last night. God, he wishes he could watch that party like a movie—oh. Namjoon. Namjoon was there, with that ridiculous camera of his; Taehyung barely even saw his face behind the massive objective.
A grimace makes his sudden flare of hope falter; Namjoon always ever takes weird-ass, conceptual pictures only he understands. There's little chance he has normal party photos with full-body people on them. More like reflections of the disco ball through champagne flutes or shit like that. Ugh. Taehyung generally loves Namjoon's art, but right now, he'd like it better if his friend's style was more forensic investigator and less abstract cubist or whatever.
Still. It's a possible lead. Taehyung picks up his phone again. This time, the call will be worth his time.
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Saturday, 9:48pm
"Three! Two! One! HAPPY BIRTHDAY JIMIN!"
The crowd erupts in cheers and applause as Jimin blows the candles on the absolutely ridiculous cake, barely avoiding getting burned by the freaking fireworks on it. Taehyung is right next to him, tipsy enough that the fire hazard eludes him completely, but still conscious enough to still feel like the fireworks were a bit much. They're very Jimin, though, and his best friend is indeed beaming like it's the best day of his life. On his other side, Yoongi, Jimin's soulmate, looks like a cat whose nap keeps being interrupted (but he still looks at Jimin with burning love in his eyes, and it makes him look half-mad, half-stupid, which in turn makes Taehyung laugh).
Cutting the cake is a mess but everyone seems to end up with a piece. The noise levels go down a notch as they start eating it. Tae pushes it around on his fancy plate. He's not really hungry; dinner was exceptional, but more than that, the impending soulmate meeting still makes him nervous. He's already had five margaritas and he knows he's nearing his limit; maybe he's a little more than tipsy. Maybe he's actually completely drunk and he should slow down on the booze. He wouldn't want to be incapable of talking coherently when he meets The Person.
"So Tae! How's the soulmate search going?" Jimin suddenly asks, his mouth full.
Next to him, Yoongi silently hands him a napkin, which Jimin takes without even looking. It's like they share a telepathic bond. Taehyung craves it. he wants to meet his soulmate so bad. Distractedly, he scratches his wrist, where his timer is still ticking. He promised himself he wouldn't look at it tonight. He wants to enjoy his night, not stay with his eyes glued to the thing until he bumps into his soulmate.
"I still have a little time," Taehyung smiles.
"How much?"
Taehyung rubs at his timer again.
"Dunno. I'll feel it when it happens."
"Or you could roll up your sleeve."
At that, Taehyung chuckles.
"No! Relying on the timer? No, Jimin, even you are more romantic than that. The universe strips us of the decision, but it will not strip me of a magical first moment. Checking my timer every other minute would feel like cheating. A little lackluster. Half-assed, if I'm entirely honest."
Yoongi is looking mildly sick but mostly very amused, his cat-like features pulled into a smirk.
"How will you know, then?"
"I'll just know," Taehyung grins. "How did you know when you met Jimin? Did you feel it in your stomach? Did you blindly kiss him, out of the blue, because it suddenly felt right?"
"He told me. I was browsing headphones in a shop and he literally walked up to me and said hi, I'm your soulmate."
Taehyung doesn't really listen to Yoongi's answer. First off, because he knows the story already; he heard it so many times in the four years Yoongi and Jimin have been together. Secondly, because he feels like he just had the best idea in his entire life. He doesn't pay attention to the fact that it's a five-magaritas-tier idea, which automatically places it in the Do Not Follow Through pile of ideas. Instead, he grabs Jimin by both shoulders and looks him straight in the eyes.
"I'm gonna go kiss my soulmate."
"What?"
"I told you. No timer. I'm just gonna walk around and when I know it's them, I'll just kiss them."
"What if you get it wrong? You can't just go around kissing people like that, Taehyung."
Taehyung waves his hand dismissively.
"I'll ask beforehand, of course. I do care about consent. But I won't get it wrong, c'mon. I can't mistake random people for my soulmate!"
He laughs, very proud of his terrible, terrible five-margaritas-tier idea. Oh, it's gonna be so good, meeting his soulmate with a delicious, magical first kiss.
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Sunday, 3:51pm
Namjoon drives a hard bargain. When Taehyung asks to see the picture of the night, his friend launches into a long-winded explanation about processing the raw pictures and making a proper selection and millions other reasons why he cannot send them over yet, until Taehyung explains that he needs them for the Investigation and begs him please, please pretty please. Namjoon sighs over the phone. He makes Taehyung promise to bring him coffee every morning until the end of the year, which seems a little excessive in Taehyung's opinion, but he accepts anyway.
It's nearing four in the afternoon when Namjoon finally shares a cloud folder with him, with the very clear instruction not to share it with anyone else. They might be jumbled up, the upload always puts them up randomly, the notification says as well, but Taehyung ignores it, already tearing through the thing.
The first picture that loads up on Taehyung's laptop is, surprisingly, a full-body shot. Taehyung mentally apologises to Namjoon on behalf of his past self. Then he registers the actual picture and winces. The photographer captured the exact moment Taehyung stumbled right into a waiter carrying a full champagne tray. The thing almost looks like a Renaissance painting; Taehyung, looking drunk and horrified, the waiter, looking just horrified, a slightly blurry Jimin in the background with the biggest smile on his face, and right in the forefront, a toppling tray with dozens of flutes in a position that screams impending doom. Taehyung cringes. So that's why he was persuaded he had gotten wet at some point; he probably got drenched in champagne. At least it didn't stain, but… ugh. Taehyung skips to the next picture. He's on a Mission; he can't let himself be held back by guilt about a champagne tray. Jimin's parents paid for it all as usual, anyway, and Taehyung's pretty sure it cost them the equivalent of a single portion of cup noodles for him. It's still waste, but… it's not like he can do anything about it. Maybe he'll send an apology note to the catering service, so that the waiter doesn't get in trouble for the broken glassware. Later, though. For now, he has to keep looking for clues.
.
Taetae: WHY IS THERE A PIC OF US KISSING
Yoongs: i'm killing namjoon
Taetae: NOT THE POINT
Taetae: WHY DID WE KISS??????? THERES NO WAY YOURE MY SOULMATE
Yoongs: you were drunk. i was drunk. you asked. I said yes. i think Jimin cheered, the pervy little shit
Taetae: EW
Taetae: YOURE PRACTICALLY MY BROTHER
Yoongs: stop shouting
Yoongs: also stop talking about it
Yoongs: ew
Taetae: NEVER TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN?
Yoongs: 👍
.
Sunday, 4:13pm
Taehyung realises quickly that randomly browsing those pictures isn't helping him much. Most are indeed the usual kind Namjoon shoots, a hand holding a glass in a particular way, the reflection of the stroboscopes in a diamond ring, a close-up of Yoongi's hair (mint green these days. Taehyung thinks it's one of the best colours on him yet)... Nothing useful for Taehyung's investigation.
A little dejected, he gets up from his desk and wanders into his kitchen, making himself a cup of tea on auto-pilot as he keeps thinking about a better way to handle it. His phone starts buzzing; it's Jimin. Probably wondering if Taehyung managed to find anything yet. He rejects the call and goes back to his laptop, brow furrowed. How to proceed?
Another call from Jimin. Taehyung rejects it again and texts something along the lines of busy right now. Jimin's his best friend. He'll understand. Taehyung focuses again on the pictures and starts by ordering them by timestamp. Okay. He thinks his timer was supposed to end around midnight, give or take. He's pretty sure anything before ten o'clock is out of probable range, as is anything after two in the morning. That's still four hours of fuzzy unknown shit.
Luck finally strikes a couple minutes later, as he goes through the 10pm photos. Namjoon took a close up of his robe's cuff, where it's heavy with crystals and beads, and by some miracle, Taehyung's timer is partially visible on the picture. Another call from Jimin interrupts Taehyung as he zooms in on his own wrist; this time, he puts his phone on silent and throws it on the couch behind him.
In the picture, the timer says 1:4… but the rest is hidden by fabric. The picture was taken at 10:22:56. If Taehyung is lucky enough to have been photographed at the right moment, he might find his answer in the photos that were taken between 00:02:56 and 00:12:56. He's getting closer, definitely.
In that ten-minute frame, Taehyung is in so many pictures that he wonders whether Namjoon was actually tasked with capturing his special moment. Which is a little creepy (Jimin's doing, no doubt), a little helpful and a lot cringy. Still, none of them particularly stand out as a special moment. The last picture in the time frame was shot at 00:11:37.
It's the champagne disaster picture.
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Sunday, 00:11am
Taehyung's strategy proves disappointing so far, but he's sure it's just because he hasn't tried enough. That blue-haired guy was promising, but sweaty hands? No. Taehyung wipes his palms on his slacks despite them being perfectly dry. Maybe he should get another drink. Yeah. That sounds good; he even sees Hobi standing by the cocktail bar in his rainbow jumpsuit. If anything, his friend will listen to his woes and maybe he'll have brilliant ideas. Hobi always has brilliant ideas.
So Taehyung decisively walks toward the bar. He forgets two things as he does so: One, he has already drunk seven margaritas (possibly eight, but what are numbers in the end?) and Two, watching your step in a crowded room is a thing. Cue, his sudden and quite brutal meeting with another person and a heavy object. There's a flash, for some reason; Taehyung's not sure why champagne flutes would emit light, but what he distinctly recognises is the shrill shattering of dozens of glasses. He raises mortified eyes to the man standing in front of him. It's a waiter in a black tuxedo; Taehyung somehow discerns the catering service logo embroidered on his breast with stunning accuracy. Jin's Kitchen. Then he meets the eye of the waiter and it's like time stops.
Gods, he's so embarrassed he might burst into flames. The guy has gone a bright red colour, probably just as embarrassed and maybe angry, too, possibly even scared of the consequences of breaking a whole tray of flutes in a fancy party like this one. Taehyung can only do one thing: he grabs the waiter in a bear hug and sob-shouts.
"I'M SO SORRY! IT'S ALL MY FAULT! SO SO SORRY! I'll PICK IT UP AND GLUE IT ALL BACK TOGETHER I PROMISE!"
Hands gently pull him back.
"Tae, calm down. Sorry, mate, he's out of his mind. Don't worry about the mess, I'll ask someone to take care of it. Why don't you go take a little break? Oh, no, don't panic, you're in no trouble at all. This shit happens all the time. It's no big deal. Just go have a breather outside, yeah? Everything's fine."
Hobi's soothing voice manages to get Taehyung to a reasonable state of awkwardness. He watches as the waiter walks away, a little wobbly, turning his head to look at Taehyung every other step until he's out of sight.
"Tae, sweetheart, I think you should go home, yeah? I'll come with you to make sure you're alright. Who knows, maybe your soulmate is a handsome cab driver, yeah?"
Taehyung chuckles. Sure, why not. In his mind, the waiter's face dances, bright and smooth with beautiful doe eyes.
.
Sunday, 5:01pm
Taehyung looks at the champagne disaster picture for what feels like the whole of eternity.
His mind is both entirely blank and buzzing with rocket-propelled unicorns and rainbows.
He knows who his soulmate is.
It's not Sungwoo, Eunhee, Jaehwan, Hyunshik, the blue haired-guy or Seulgi, nor is it nameless people he doesn't even remember kissing.
It's not Yoongi (ew).
It's not a handsome cab driver.
It's a pretty doe-eyed waiter.
.
Jiminie: [7 missed calls]
Jiminie: will you fucking call me back already
Taetae: i was busy investigating
Taetae: I FOUND THEM
Taetae: HIM
Taetae: [picture sent]
Taetae: look how pretty he is
Taetae: and i made an ASS out of myself to him
Taetae: all I know is he was a waiter yesterday
Taetae: JIMIN HELP ME
Jiminie: i suppose its best you found on your own 🙄
Jiminie: but seriously tae
Jiminie: Jin's Kitchen called me over an hour ago to tell me all about it
Jiminie: ive been trying to give you his name and number
Jiminie: but you were InvEsTIgAtiNg
Taetae: … oops
Taetae: well give it to me now
Taetae: ive made him wait enough!!!!!!!
.
Taetae: hi
Taetae: i'm the idiot who crashed into your tray last night
Taetae: my friend gave me your number
Taetae: i would like to apologise
Taetae: i hope you didnt get in trouble
.
Sunday, 6:07pm
Taehyung walks in feeling like he owns the world. Tonight, while technically being the next night after he met his soulmate, is Taehyung's night. Any minute now, he's meeting his soulmate for real.
They're meeting at a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant that's somehow open on Sunday nights, one that Jeongguk (Jeongguk!) said is "real good, but not as fancy as last night". It's fine by Taehyung. He's Jimin's friend, but he never truly feels like he belongs in the rich-ass crowd Jimin is part of.
So tonight, gone are the silk and crystals, gone is the refined makeup, gone are the margaritas. Tonight, it's just Taehyung, in his normal weird style, flowy pants and a colourful bandana holding back his hair, his face simply moisturised and his sneakers a little scuffed. It's raining again, so he's also holding a bright green umbrella Hobi gifted him a few years back. The interior of the restaurant is quiet, gently cradled by the sound of the rain on the windows.
A few tables are taken, and at the back there's one with just one boy sitting there, looking expectantly at the door. Taehyung bites his lips to keep from grinning too wide as he makes his way toward his soulmate.
It's a little awkward at first. Taehyung apologises seventy-two times, at which point Jeongguk threatens him to actually make him glue the flutes back into shape if he doesn't stop. Then he asks about the kissing random people thing, which he apparently witnessed from afar. Taehyung face burns as he tries to explain drunk-Taehyung's logic to Jeongguk, but Jeongguk just laughs.
"Okay, so keep you off the margaritas, duly noted," he grins—the most beautiful grin. It makes his nose scrunch up like a little bunny rabbit. Taehyung is melting. "But in all honesty, I kinda get it. Drunk-me is way too shy to act like that, but conceptually…"
That's it. Taehyung's in love.
.
Sungwoo: found them yet?
Taetae: YES
.
Sunday, 9:48pm
Taehyung walked Jeongguk home. It's the least he could do (also he didn't want to miss a single second of that first date). It's nice to discover that Jeongguk is a normal guy like him, living in a one-room mess of a flat, juggling a part-time job at Jin's Kitchen with university. Taehyung's been out of college for a couple years, but he gets it.
They stand on Jeongguk's doorstep for a while, stalling. Neither of them want to say goodbye just yet, distractedly playing with each other's fingers (they held hands on the way back and Taehyung tried not to burst into flames again). Then Jeongguk tugs a bit on Taehyung's knuckles, half a smile on his plush lips.
"Say, Taehyung… you kissed lotsa people last night."
"Don't remind me," Taehyung sighs.
"No, I mean… don't you think it would only be fair if you actually kissed me, too? You know, what with me being the one you were trying to kiss all along and all."
He's looking pretty smug as he says it. Taehyung physically feels his heart melt at the sight (okay, maybe not physically. He conceptually feels his heart melt at the sight).
"You know what," he says, stepping closer and booping Jeongguk's rounded little nose, "I think you just might be right."
.
The End