Chapter Text
If there was anything Jeongguk hated more than being five, it would be being treated like he was five. Sure, he wasn’t completely knowledgeable of how to literally put two and two together (math was never his forte) or how babies came out of their moms, but he was toilet-trained (he could tell his mom when he needed to pee) and he most definitely did not need a babysitter, especially not Kim Taehyung from next door who was only two years older than him.
“Be a good boy for Taetae okay, Jeongguk.” His mother had ruffled his mess of brown locks before the door clicked close and she was gone.
He was five.
He had a babysitter.
His babysitter was seven.
The anger boiled inside of his small frame as his hands balled into fists. He whirled around, ready to scream bloody murder to get his mother to come back until he saw Taehyung’s bright smile. His white teeth glowed like Jeongguk’s favorite dinosaur bedside lamp. His eyes like the crescent moons he sought for when he couldn’t sleep at night. For a second, Jeongguk was mesmerized that this older boy was so much more beautiful, more ethereal. Taehyung looked like he came from another planet altogether. While Jeongguk was all fluff and chubby cheeks, Taehyung had grown up slightly skinnier with the prettiest of smiles.
But the tingling warmth was short-lived as Taehyung’s teasing grin pulled him out of his reverie, reminding him once again that Taehyung was also just a brat. “I’m older than you, Gukkie, so I get to boss you around!”
Dear God.
Taehyung’s mom was cooking in the kitchen and Jeongguk had been left with the seven year-old meanie in the living room, watching him play and rumble out airplane noises as he dived his toy down into the makeshift city made out of cardboard on the carpeted floor. He had claimed that Jeongguk was too young to play with airplanes and battleships and should stick to his lettered blocks (which he hadn’t even touched in years, pfft). So Jeongguk resorted to sulking, making grumbling noises every few seconds to catch Taehyung’s attention. However, that irritation ended promptly when Taehyung’s mom popped by, leaving a tablet with Jeongguk with some cartoon playing. She ruffled his hair and handed him a cookie. “Here, Jeonggukie, it’s chocolate chip. It’s also Iron Man, I heard he’s your favorite.”
It was Iron Man! He nodded eagerly as she smiled and walked out of the room. But the billionaire slash hero slash philanthropist was cartoon, the colorful version, and he was announcing some really lame joke that Jeongguk had gurgled-laughed at. Captain America also came onto the screen and the Hulk but the Hulk tripped, which earned another eruption of giggles from the five year-old. That was when he began to pique Taehyung’s interest. Taehyung kept peeking over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what was making the little boy so giddy. With glittering eyes, he snatched the device from Jeongguk and scooted over to the other end of the couch. His eyes were glued to the characters saving the world, initially unaware of Jeongguk’s quivering lips and flaming eyes.
“Stop glaring at me like that, Gukkie.” Taehyung frowned, the tablet in his hands glowed with a myriad of colors as beeps and pings sounded from the speakers.
“Your mom gave it to me!” Jeongguk stood on the couch, stomping his feet, though his squeaky shoes ruined the threat in his voice.
“Well, I’m older so I get to take it from you. You’re been promoted, you can play with the planes now.”
Jeongguk wanted to scream and cry, wanted to wail so loud so Taehyung’s mom would hear and scold him. But he wasn’t going to be a baby, he wasn’t going to be a tattletale because tattletales were lame. Instead, he resorted to pinching his lips and distorting his face in an attempt of holding back his tears. “You’re mean!”
Taehyung didn’t like that. He could be too loud or too annoying but he didn’t like being called mean. Mean was for bullies and Taehyung was only seven, he wasn’t a bully. How the two labels connected, he hadn’t quite figured out yet. “You’re being a big baby!”
That Jeongguk hated even more. He wasn’t a baby! He was five. He knew how to do some things. He was still bad at math but that didn’t mean he wasn’t smart. Jeongguk was his teacher’s favorite because he always did things properly and was always nice. Jeongguk wasn’t a baby. “Am not!”
“Yes, you are!” The tablet was soon forgotten as Taehyung huffed forward, face inching close to Jeongguk’s. “You’re a baby!”
“I’m not!” He insisted again, the tears brimming in his eyes this time. He didn’t like it. He wasn’t a baby. He was five. He was smart. He was a good boy. His mom said so and even Taehyung’s mom agreed. Jeongguk was good. He wasn’t a baby.
“You’re a crybaby! You’re going to cry, aren’t you?” Taehyung crossed his arms over his chest. His height felt like an unreachable tower to Jeongguk who was a few inches shorter than the older boy. Jeongguk didn’t like the shadow that casted over his face with Taehyung’s height. The darkness felt all-consuming and that had been the last straw. Sobs wracked his body as choked cries exploded from his mouth.
At that, Taehyung’s victorious grin morphed into an expression of utter remorse. His lips moved but he couldn’t process anything that came out of it. He pulled out every word from his limited vocabulary to try and console the boy but nothing was working.
Pats. He always liked it when his mom pat him on the head, made him feel like he did something good, maybe Jeongguk would like it too. So his hand reached out and gently touched the boy’s hair. Jeongguk’s crying ceased as he looked up, doe-eyes that melted Taehyung’s little heart, regret chewing him inside out for causing such an innocent child to cry. Taehyung was relieved for all two seconds and made the mistake of smiling.
Because Jeongguk had learned that Taehyung’s smile only implied mischief leading up to his suffering. So he grabbed Taehyung’s hand and bit down on it. That dragged a squeak followed by a scream from the older boy who pulled his hand away, shoving the younger in the process, causing him to tumble down from the couch.
Taehyung saw the little circles on his hands and started weeping.
Jeongguk felt the bump on his head and did too.
It took two popsicles and a timeout on the balcony afterwards for some fresh air to calm them down. Taehyung’s mom had sighed and led them both outside where she could at least keep an eye on them from the kitchen window.
The breeze felt nice as it threaded through Jeongguk’s wavy brown locks. He liked how calming it was outside with the birds tweeting a joyous melody and the clouds he could just make out to be different animals drifting slowly across the ocean of blue. It felt nice. He felt calm. He was calm. Then he felt a tug on his shirt and it’s Taehyung holding up a popsicle stick as a peace offering with a rosy hue glowing on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t want to be a meanie.” But the r’s were lost in his inability to pronounce them and they came out as w’s and it’s possibly the cutest thing Jeongguk has heard leave the elder’s mouth so he just nodded and helped Taehyung up to his chair and the two sat side by side.
Jeongguk also forfeited, mumbling his apology and cuddling his head into Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung just curled an arm around the baby boy, his instinct to protect the younger kicking in as he nodded and beamed brightly back at Jeongguk and Jeongguk, in all his five year old glory and intelligence, realized then and there that his purpose in life was to keep that adorable, rectangle smile on his friend’s face. The two enjoyed the silence a little longer before Taehyung, who couldn’t stay still for the life of him, initiated a game of tag by smacking Jeongguk on the butt and running away. Jeongguk’s bubbly laughter followed suit as he chased the other down.
Only when the two were covered in dirt from head to toe, cheeky smiles on their faces, did they come back inside and share Taehyung’s battlefield set.
Growing up next to each other meant that the two saw plenty of each other. It also meant that Jeongguk’s parents would rather send their beloved son to the same school as Taehyung every single time so that he could keep an eye on his junior. After their rocky first encounter, Jeongguk fell into step pretty quickly with Taehyung. All throughout their school years, Taehyung lived to bother the hell out of Jeongguk, either by embarrassing him by calling him and cooing at him in the middle of the hallway, leaving Jeongguk a blushing mess as he swatted his friend’s grabby hands away, or by jumping on his back and riding him all the way to class. Although the older boy could get a tad too excited at times (which usually ended with something breaking or the neighbors complaining), Jeongguk managed to reign in Taehyung’s excitement by wearing him out. Most of the time, he felt like the ‘older brother’ in the relationship.
There was that one time Taehyung got so trashed that he had stumbled over to Jeongguk’s place instead. Thankfully, he had been awake studying for upcoming finals. He was even more thankful that his parents weren’t around that night. Not that they were around much since they both worked full-time jobs.
“Jeonggukie!” Taehyung had squealed, arms messily flailing into the air as he threw them around Jeongguk’s shoulders.
He could smell the remnants of Taehyung’s apparent wild night out in his breath and see it in the happiness in his glazed eyes. “Tae, how much did you drink?” He grunted and bore his friend’s weight all the way to the couch. “You idiot, stop being so reckless.”
“Sorry, Gukkie.” Taehyung gurgled and, for a second, Jeongguk was scared he was going to throw up and stain his mother’s favorite carpet. “Ah, I just needed a little downtime.”
“Downtimes include reading and drinking tea or sleeping.” He huffed. “It’s not a reason for you to get this shit-faced.”
The tears began to gather in Taehyung’s hazel eyes and he felt an instant pang of regret for having scolded him. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry you’re always taking care of me.”
Jeongguk sighed, patting his head gently just the way Taehyung liked it. He instantly squirmed closer towards him, wanting to feel Jeongguk’s warm touch on his head. “I don’t mind. You’re my best friend.”
“You’re too good to me, Jeonggukie. Too good.” And then he was asleep.
By the time they reached high school, the two realized that Jeongguk was in fact smart. He had been right. He joined advanced classes with his seniors, sometimes even meeting Taehyung who would insist that he sit next to him. This was usually to take advantage of Jeongguk’s studious nature and copy off his notes when he fell asleep in class. Taehyung was one of those students who was naturally smart. Even with his snoring away through most lectures, he passed exams with flying colors. Flying colors meant he placed in the top ten.
It always pissed Jeongguk off and, most of the time, he was so tempted to keep his notes to himself.
But seeing Taehyung fall asleep, cheek pressed against his arms cross on the table, a book propped up in front of him to hide his tall, lanky frame, and the sunlight reflecting off the golden-brown of his hair, Jeongguk itched to touch him, to feel his calloused hand stroke the softness of Taehyung’s face, brushing away his stray bangs from his ticklish nose, to trace the outline of his small smile.
His itch usually died when the teacher came around to smack Taehyung on the head for sleeping during class hours and drag him to the front of the room to answer the question on the board.
Of course, Taehyung would nail that question and leave the teacher with an everlasting grudge.
With his generally introverted and shy nature, it wasn’t too easy for Jeongguk to make friends. It was even worse considering his good looks earned him brownie points with the girls, but gave him envious glares from the guys. Thus, most days, he hung around Taehyung and his friends. It felt a little awkward because he felt as if he was just piggybacking off Taehyung’s popularity (and he was admired by one and all). Taehyung had looked genuinely offended when Jeongguk guiltily told him so and he hooked an arm around Jeongguk’s neck and messed up his hair. “Jeongguk-ah, you’re my best friend. I know you’d never take advantage of me. You’re the greatest, you know? Anyone would love to be your friend!”
And Jeongguk would blush and Taehyung would coo about how adorable he was again.
Taehyung’s friends were great. Namjoon was a boy who had stayed back a year, not because he was falling behind, but because he had had a penchant for bruised knuckles and split lips. He’s a repented man though and his IQ placed him as an over-qualified candidate for every single university by the time senior year rolled around. Like Taehyung, he slacked off most classes and managed to earn the number one spot each and every time. Meanwhile, Jimin was Taehyung’s ’95 brother and the two usually got into all sorts of antics that had Jeongguk chewing his lip in worry over his best friend. Pranks went overboard and Taehyung’s mom was often called in to reprimand her son. During those days, Taehyung would feel remorseful for a mere two minutes before Jeongguk’s comforting words pepped him up again.
The two were attached at the hip, everyone knew that.
It was near impossible to find Taehyung walking down the hallway without his enthusiastic chatters in Jeongguk’s ear or to see Jeongguk cramming in the library without Taehyung knocked out peacefully next to him
“We’re friends forever,” Taehyung had said once, raising his pinkie in a childish promise of eternal friendship.
Heat had crept up Jeongguk’s cheeks as he nodded and muttered, curling his own finger around his best friend’s. “Forever.”
That had been their promise.
However, promises were never easy to keep. It was even harder when things took a turn for Jeongguk. The night his mom had broken the news to him, Jeongguk’s eyes had darted between the two of them, attempting to seek some form of understanding of their situation, but all his father did was look away. It took whatever was left of his energy to drag himself over to Taehyung’s house and sneak into Taehyung’s room just as he had done when they were children playing pretend. He’d toe off his shoes and slip underneath the blanket next to the boy.
“Tae,” he whispered.
Everyday, Taehyung would be out cold at the early minutes of ten but he had drowsily opened his eyes at his favorite voice. Jeongguk. “Mm, hey, Jeonggukie. What brings you here?”
Jeongguk, who never openly showed signs of affection, had wrapped his arms around Taehyung’s waist. It embarrassed him a little. He had heard stories of how it would be strange for two boys to hold each other, but it never felt out of place with Taehyung. Taehyung always smelled of dirt and his strawberry shampoo, the warmth of his skin embracing Jeongguk’s hardened heart. Taehyung always felt like home to him.
Of course, Taehyung sensed the shift. He always did. He’s smart, Jeongguk knew. The smartest person he knew. He turned onto his side and hugged his best friend back. “What’s wrong, Gukkie?”
The fond nickname had Jeongguk feeling a little nostalgic which led him to the flooding of memories with his parents. Birthday parties on open lawns, streamers streaking the sky in lines of rainbows, his mother smiling, his father laughing, the two of them clinging onto each other. Jeongguk was reminded of the times he’d find them sneaking kisses in the dark at midnight or the way they shared looks across the table when he had done something cute.
Taehyung kissed away the tears Jeongguk hadn’t even noticed had fallen. He squirmed away, feeling uncomfortable with the touch but Taehyung held on. “I’m here for you. If you need to cry then let it out. I always told you it’s healthier for you to let it all go.”
“I don’t want to,” he whimpered, eyes slamming shut as he shook his head. He wasn’t ready to let go. The love he thought his parents had he didn’t even realize had disappeared. He wasn’t prepared to give up hope on the two of them.
“I’m here for you, Gukkie. Until the end.” Taehyung whispered, letting Jeongguk bury his face into his chest.
The worry in his heart didn’t lessen with Taehyung’s comfort but he felt a lighter sense of peace settle in his gut as he allowed himself time. Time to understand, time to relax, time to feel. What mattered at that moment was that Taehyung was there and he would always be.
“My parents are getting a divorce,” Jeongguk said, refusing to look up to meet Taehyung’s sympathetic eyes. He didn’t like pity, especially not from his friend. “They just told me earlier. I don’t know how to feel about it.”
Taehyung was at a loss, his mind searching for words he couldn’t string together. He had never been good at offering comfort. He was only a listener, a bottle to store up all of his friends’ released emotions. What they couldn’t handle, he would take on the weight. This burden of Jeongguk’s, he swore on his life he’d lighten.
“It’s hard, you know, believing that all this time they were alright when they weren’t. And I knew they’ve been working too much, too long, and I wished that I noticed sooner, maybe I could’ve done something, talked to them, made them feel better and maybe we wouldn’t end up—”
“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung chided, pulling away slightly to shake some sense into the boy. “It’s never your fault. This is between your parents. You didn’t do anything wrong. Adults just deal with these adult things and it’s their responsibility, not yours.”
But it didn’t feel that way. He felt the helplessness sink down the pits of his stomach, seeping into him and engulfing him. The what if’s kept him awake all night, even after Taehyung caved into the exhaustion and was fast asleep with his chin propped up on Jeongguk’s tuft of brown hair.
Taehyung did his best to keep Jeongguk preoccupied at school, inviting him out on their outings. Their hangouts consisted of Namjoon and Jimin embarrassing themselves in public places, though Jeongguk had a tiny feeling that that was mainly for his benefit, to get him to quirk up a small smile as Taehyung observed his expressions carefully. They took him out to arcades, kept him busy with rounds of Pacman and chasing villains down shooting games. Taehyung made sure his friend stayed distracted as the details of the divorce were finalized. Of course, Taehyung’s parents were aware of the situation and often invited him over to have dinner together while his parents were out.
Other times, Taehyung’s parents were just as busy with their own jobs so the two were left curled up on the couch with steaming bowls of instant ramen. Taehyung learned to prepare them just for Jeongguk because he knew the younger had an insatiable hunger for them.
“Here you go, Gukkie.” He handed the bowl over to Jeongguk who had been sitting silently on the sofa, seemingly deep in thought judging by his face being void of emotions. “With egg and sausage too, just the way you like it.”
Jeongguk murmured his thanks as he accepted the bowl, letting the saltiness of the broth invade his senses. The noodles looked firm enough and the egg was cooked to perfection. “Thanks, Taetae.”
“I’d make a pretty good lover, right?” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Jeongguk opted to ignore him and slurp his own noodles instead. “This is why you should marry me, Jeongguk-ah.”
At that, his friend choked, the noodles possibly sliding down into his lungs instead of his digestive system. Fuck. Taehyung laughed, carefree and happy, and rubbed his friend’s back, the cheeky smile still dancing on his lips. Jeongguk couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face, his whole face flaming up.
It wasn’t that he thought it was a bad idea. He’d honestly thought about it before. What it would be like to date Taehyung. He was a wonderful guy, outgoing, thoughtful, but Taehyung was more than that to Jeongguk. He wasn’t only a friend with the strongest shoulder to lean on, or the most patient listener in the world despite his seemingly foolhardy nature. He was Jeongguk’s pillar, everything Jeongguk had hoped himself to be. Taehyung felt like the missing piece. What he could never achieve, Taehyung would complete him.
There were times he’d lie in bed and his mind would wander to Taehyung. It humiliated him to no end to have such thoughts about his best friend, but the feeling of Taehyung’s hand running up and down his arm clung onto his skin. He could still remember Taehyung’s short puffs of breath warming up his neck as the older boy curved his back into his front, the perfect fit.
“Don’t joke about things like that,” Jeongguk could only mumble in response, hoping that Taehyung would drop such ideas before his imagination soared too far and he ended up with an unwanted boner when his friend pressed up against him.
“You’re so cute, Jeongguk-ah.” He grinned, nuzzling his face into the crook of Jeongguk’s neck. Although Taehyung was taller, Jeongguk had grown up with broader shoulders and arms sculpted from workouts done out of boredom, so Taehyung liked being the little spoon and entangling himself with Jeongguk. “I want to marry you in the future just because you’re so cute.”
“Stop it,” he pinked again, shoving Taehyung’s pinching hands away. He only laughed and instead climbed up onto Jeongguk’s lap, keeping him trapped between his thighs and hands moving to attack. Jeongguk grumbled, attempting to push his weight off of him with you’re heavy as an excuse (totally wasn’t true, Jeongguk could easily throw Taehyung over his shoulder). When he had had enough of Taehyung’s hands, he flipped them around, pinning Taehyung down on the sofa as he hovered above him, his fingers wrapped around Taehyung’s wrists to keep him in place in spite of his squirming. “Tae, did you forget that I’m stronger than you?” The mischievous grin was playing on his lips.
What surprised him was the fact that Taehyung held the exact same expression. Fondness he couldn’t quite understand shone in Taehyung’s irises as he murmured softly, so softly that Jeongguk nearly missed it, “There’s my Jeonggukie.”
Jeongguk’s shoulder slumped, the tension dissipating from his muscles as he dropped his forehead onto Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung’s hand reached up to weave through Jeongguk’s hair, the curls coiling around his fingers. Chest to chest, he could hear Jeongguk’s heartbeat thrumming against his own.
“I’m graduating this year, Gukkie. I’m going to miss you a lot you know.”
At that, the younger pulled away and stared at him warily. Panic flashed in his eyes as he looked down into Taehyung’s. “Why? I thought you decided to go to school around here. Your mom said — you said that you wanted to stick close to home. We can still see each other, right?”
Taehyung sighed, one that sounded too desolate, too far away. “I don’t know, Gukkie. Don’t you ever want to just… go? Get out of here. See something new. We’ve grown up here our whole lives. It’s so comfortable.”
Jeongguk didn’t understand what was so wrong with such a sentiment. Comfortable was good. Comfortable was familiar. Comfortable was home. Taehyung was comfortable and Taehyung was home.
“I just want to get out of here, you know. See the world and all its wonders, see what it has to offer me. Don’t get me wrong, my family’s great and you’re here and I love you guys. But sometimes I have the urge to focus on me. On finding what I want to do.”
And there it was again. The sinking feeling, the desperation that clawed at him to hold onto whoever’s left around him tightly. His father was practically gone, he had packed all his things and moved to an apartment near his office. His mother had picked up more office hours, barely spending any time around the house. But Taehyung had always been there. Taehyung had kept him busy, kept him entertained, kept him happy. When no one else was there, Taehyung was.
But he was leaving too.
Taehyung was moving on with his life. He’s going onto bigger things. But Jeongguk felt settled with where he stood. He had accepted it. He had his future planned out. Get into a good university near home, graduate with good grades, find a stable job, build a family, leave the world in peace. He was well on his way to the future he had planned.
And maybe, just maybe, a little part of him wished that Taehyung continue to be a part of his journey.
And that he would be a part of Taehyung’s.
“Gukkie,” Taehyung flicked his nose. His hair was still spread out messily on top of the pillow that he laid on. “What are you thinking?”
“Have you started applying?”
“Soon,” he hummed, letting Jeongguk flop next to him. One of his arms slipped around Jeongguk, sliding up to stroke the short strands of hair trailing down his neck.
“Where?”
“Why?” He chuckled. “Planning to go to the same school as me again?”
Jeongguk’s cheeks tinted once more. “Maybe.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” he grinned, pinching Jeongguk’s cheeks and throwing his legs over his. “Just gotta finish high school first.”
“It’s gonna suck without you here,” he pressed his lips together. He couldn’t imagine not popping by Taehyung’s house after school or making plans to indulge on cheat days with Taehyung’s favorite japchae and mammoth banana splits.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung smiled, eyes glimmering underneath the lights. “You’re going to do great things. You’re smart and you’re cool. Not to mention all the girls like you instead and I’m the senior.”
Of course, all the attention he was getting didn’t matter to him. All Jeongguk wanted was Taehyung’s for then and for the rest of his life.
“But if I do want to go to the same school as you…” He paused, worrying his bottom lip with his cheeks glowing a shade of red. “Can I do that?”
A laugh that Jeongguk had long pinned down as his favorite sound on earth bubbled from Taehyung’s throat. He cuddled closer to his friend, smiling up at him. “I’d be honored if you want to stick around my sorry ass even longer.”
✂︎ ✂︎ ✂︎ ✂︎
Months passed and after the grueling rounds of national exams and university applications, Taehyung was finally ready to start packing things up. As he popped open the boxes, he looked around his mess of a room (he could just hear his mother cackling downstairs with an I told you so on the tip of her tongue). He was also very much aware of the figure looming at the doorway. Having spent most of his life with Jeongguk, he had grown accustomed to his presence. He could distinguish Jeongguk’s shy footsteps up the stairs, his laugh amongst the students’ incessant chattering in the hallways. “Jeongguk-ah, stop creeping on me and help me out.”
Jeongguk dropped to the floor next to him and the two sat silently, eyes running over the mountains of things Taehyung had all over the damn place. “You should clean your room.”
“I’m doing that right now.” He beamed and held out a broom. “Can you do under my bed?” The look on his face had Taehyung laughing. “It’s not that bad, I promise.”
“Hyung, I know you’ve got at least one cockroach underneath that mattress. I’m not going there.”
“Fine, I guess you can help me out with my closet. I have too many clothes.”
Everyone knew Jeongguk could never resist Taehyung’s puppy pout so he sighed and nodded, moving over to the closet. It took them four hours to get everything together, an additional ten minutes of screaming after finding Jeongguk’s predicted cockroach underneath the bed. It wasn’t until dinnertime when Taehyung’s mother came to check on them (because they’ve been silent for the past half an hour and silent was never a good sign) to find the two curled up around each other on the floor, Jeongguk’s frame wrapping around Taehyung’s. His arm draped lazily over Taehyung’s thin waist and his face buried in the back of Taehyung’s neck. She smiled to herself.
They’ve still got a long way to go.
Jeongguk considered himself to be capable of holding back his emotions. He wasn’t rabid like Taehyung, or overly dramatic like Namjoon, or oozing with aegyo like Jimin. He was calm and composed, and there was a reason why he voted himself the most mature out of the bunch. However, when it came to dealing with other people’s emotions, he tended to lose his self-control.
Which was why he was swallowing back tears as his nose started running and he was pretty damn sure he looked constipated. He rubbed his face, hoping that Taehyung wouldn’t — “Aw, Jeonggukie, are you crying for me?” He opened his eyes to find Taehyung’s own face puffy and red, his eyes looking as if he hadn’t slept for days, his caramel hair clinging onto his skin with the help of the sweltering sun, and his lips in an adorable pout. Even when he was a crying mess, Taehyung still looked freaking amazing and Jeongguk wanted to kiss him. Only that would probably make things awkward and Jeongguk wasn’t about to risk it on his last day. He’d play things safe. Safe is good.
“I’m not,” he grumbled.
Taehyung’s skinny arms went around his waist, his face buried in Jeongguk’s strong chest. “I’m going to miss you a lot, Jeongguk-ah. Take care of yourself okay. Stop working out, I’m scared you might actually throw me out the window one of these days.”
Jeongguk managed a gargled chuckle as he stroked Taehyung’s head. The elder hummed happily, realizing how much he was going to yearn for Jeongguk’s comforting touch when he was hundreds of miles away. “I’ll try, but no promises.”
He sighed, tightening his hold around Jeongguk’s waist which had him blushing as his eyes darted around between Taehyung’s parents and his friends’ knowing glances. Of fucking course, everyone would already be aware of his crush except for Taehyung himself. Heaven help him. “I’ll be waiting for you, Gukkie."
His words had Jeongguk’s heart stopping, clinging onto the little hint that maybe Taehyung felt the same way he did. He closed his eyes. He was going to bide his time, take the time away from him to mature and actually learn how to be an adult, be a man fit enough for Taehyung.
“I’ll be there soon, Tae.”