Archive of Our Own

The nights had started to drag on, and the cold was whipping through the city of Seoul, announcing that winter would arrive when they least expected it. His fame, much like the cold, was climbing to levels his younger self never thought he'd reach. And even though he'd wanted that recognition since the very beginning, in that moment, it felt like something he no longer wanted.

Taehyung doesn't remember when the days started feeling colder, when sleep became his greatest escape from his daily routine. He doesn't remember when he started pulling away from that family he hadn't chosen, but wasn't willing to let go of either — the one that was now watching him with growing concern. He's started forgetting small things from his routine, like brushing his teeth or combing his hair before bed. He doesn't remember, but he doesn't try to rewind either. It's as if his mind has started accepting that being sad is just the new normal.

And it had started to feel right to him.

It was on a December night that the world started spinning again for him. He found himself in the composition studio, where the grand keyboard held court as the room's muse, surrounded by electric guitars and loose notes pinned to a board full of future songs.

That day, he decided to shake up his routine — not because of the looks people gave him or the comments from his own staff, but because of how suffocated he felt at home, and partly because he wanted to write something for his fans. He'd never been as good on the keyboard as Yoongi or Seokjin, but he wasn't bad either; he could recognize melodies and follow simple sheet music. He could hold his own.

So he let the music flow and wrap around him the way it always had. He let his soul pour out into the lyrics that were starting to take shape. He let the music tell him what to do, because he had no idea how to do it himself.

He doesn't remember when his heart started hurting, but it did. And for some reason, it was hurting the people he loved the most.

Taehyung had no idea why the music wasn't helping him anymore, why it wasn't giving him the answers he so desperately needed. He felt so lost, so alone — that even though crying in that place had never been part of the plan, it happened out of nowhere.

He doesn't remember the sound of the door opening, or that familiar voice slipping into his ears, as melodic as it was worried, calling out to him carefully and gently:

"Tae, you good?"

Taehyung doesn't remember when things between Jungkook and him started withering either. They used to be inseparable, if he thought about it; messing with their hyungs and pulling pranks was everything a few winters ago. But now, he didn't feel like that person anymore.

Actually, he was lying. He did remember how everything had gotten awkward.

It had been on a night just like that one: cold, but warm because of the younger's presence. He remembered the jokes about their "friendship" from the other members had gotten more frequent as their ship's popularity grew. He didn't care much; he had enough trust with Jungkook to joke around and act like a couple in front of cameras. At the end of the day, only he knew what he actually felt, and everyone else needed to get out of their imagination.

It wasn't a good place to be.

But he also remembered that cold night after one of their concerts in Tokyo. Jungkook had walked into his hotel room after getting a text from him asking for company; insomnia was taking over his night, and he knew his best friend was still awake. Jungkook had decided to bring some beers to celebrate how well they'd performed, and Taehyung, even though he wasn't a big drinker, had decided to join him.

"Yoongi-hyung told me a secret."

"A secret?"

"Yeah, but you can't tell anyone."

"Jungkookie, you're drunk. You shouldn't be spilling your hyungs secrets."

Jungkook laughed as he took a sip from his last six-pack, courtesy of the mini fridge in the older's room. "Hyungie, let me talk."

"No."

"Hyung is dating a guy! Can you believe that?"

Taehyung rolled his eyes and took the drink from him.

"I thought we were past the whole thing about people having different preferences, Kook. You're not a kid—"

"Yah, hyung! I'm not judging Yoongi-hyung. I don't care about other people's dating lives, but… I don't know, it's kind of funny."

Taehyung looked at him seriously for a moment. He knew Jungkook wasn't prejudiced; he just talked without a filter when he drank. He'd seen Jimin sneak girls into his room more than once, or Hoseok break up with his girlfriend over the phone. And even though those things always led to jokes between them, Taehyung didn't care much. In this industry, you learn to empathize with all kinds of people and situations society still hasn't fully accepted — but it didn't matter much to him either way.

"I always thought… if there was ever a gay dating rumor, it'd be about us. But now the company's going crazy trying to keep it under wraps and… it's kind of funny to me."

Taehyung choked on his own drink. "Jungkook, do you even hear yourself?"

"I know, I know, but the other day I found a theory on Twitter about us and thought… our Army has got it wrong with the wrong members!"

"You know that if something about the fanservice ever makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell me."

"No, listen! There are times where… you know, guys my age go on dates and stuff, and being in this industry is complicated. But sometimes I think… our Army is sending the wrong signals about us."

Taehyung didn't know what to say. The smell of alcohol was way too close, and Jungkook was looking at him like he was trying to confirm something he didn't even know how to name. The comment hung in the air, clumsy and sincere all at once. Taehyung blinked, not immediately understanding whether he should laugh or ask him what he meant.

Jungkook kept fidgeting with a new can, not looking at him.

Oh.

It wasn't a fully formed thought — just a reflex. A spark that made him sit up straighter, like his body understood something before his mind did. There was no malice in the younger's voice, but there was something… something Taehyung couldn't name.

It wasn't fanservice. It wasn't a joke. It was that invisible point where habit starts to feel too real.

Silence slipped between the two of them. Jungkook smiled, crooked, with that mix of innocence and defiance that only alcohol could let through.

"You're drunk, Kook," he murmured, without moving.

"Maybe," he laughed softly, resting his head on his shoulder.  "But drunk or not… I look at you the same way."

That night, nothing happened.

But from that point on, nothing was ever the same again.

"This isn't the time, Jungkook."

Taehyung slammed the keyboard shut and started gathering his notes for the song that was costing him so much to write. He noticed Jungkook moving closer, but he was too tired to ask him to leave.

"If not now, then when, Taehyung?"

He dared to look at him for the first time that night. His own eyes, red and exhausted, were a contrast to the younger's, full of worry. Jungkook was wearing a casual outfit: a gray hoodie and black jeans. He knew right away he'd just come from the gym.

Taehyung looked away. "Jungkook…"

"We're worried about you. Can you talk to me?"

Jungkook was the last person he wanted to see that day, but since fate had lately been getting a kick out of doing the opposite of what he wanted, the younger sat down next to him, beside the keyboard.

Taehyung took a deep breath. He didn't want to look at him again. He didn't want to see that face he knew too well to pretend it didn't matter to him.

"I have nothing to say to you," he muttered.

"That's not true," Jungkook spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper.

The silence got uncomfortable. He could hear the hum of the lights, the rustle of papers as Jungkook moved them off the keyboard.

"We're losing you, hyung."

Taehyung closed his eyes. Not because he wanted to avoid his gaze, but because he knew that if he held it a second longer, he'd fall apart.

"I'm not lost, Jungkook. I'm just… tired."

"Tired of what?"

"Everything."

Jungkook looked at him, trying to understand, trying to come up with something quick that might comfort him. When had everything gotten so complicated?

He just sighed and rested his hand on the older's thigh.

Taehyung couldn't help but shiver.

After that night, as if by some silent agreement, neither of them brought it up again. The days kept passing, and so did the nights and their international fame. DNA had become a phenomenon, and even the American market wanted to get to know them. The group was in the place they'd always dreamed of, and everyone felt like the new year — 2018 — was going to be perfect.

They believed that.

Fame had a dark side too, though. The pressure started mounting, the interviews got more controlled. There was even a script for how they were supposed to speak and present themselves in front of cameras. Everyone started becoming aware of it, and the fear of saying or doing something wrong inevitably crept in.

That year, Namjoon decided to change his stage name to RM instead of Rap Monster, and they started using their platform and their audience to reach further. The Love Yourself trilogy made them feel connected to their international fans and to themselves.

Accepting yourself, loving yourself before you can love anyone else. It was beautiful.

Maybe, after all, being famous wasn't so bad.

Fame had also made them more cautious. There was too much envy in that world, and trusting people or going on casual dates had stopped being an option. Not that it had affected Taehyung much — he knew it was for the good of the band, for his reputation as an idol, and he understood that in the end it would all be worth it. It had brought the seven of them closer together, but he was still in the prime of his youth, and something inside him was begging for attention. So the outings with his younger members and the late-night talks increased.

"So I spotted a sign that said "I love you, Park Jimin," and I swear if we weren't this international and all our interactions didn't get retweeted thousands of times on Twitter, I would've looked at her a little longer. She was actually really beautiful…"

Jungkook laughed at the blond and threw the snack he was eating at him.

"You're insane, hyung."

"Someone needs to tell this little brat to learn some respect for his hyungs!" Jimin shot back, leaning over and nudging Jungkook with his feet.

"If you're putting your feet that close to me, you already know you're gonna lose, Jimin-ah…"

"Don't you dare."

Jungkook grabbed both of the older's legs and started tickling him, which made Jimin burst out laughing uncontrollably as he shoved him away and knocked his snacks over in the process.

"Yah! You two, cut it out."

Jimin was still cracking up on the floor, and Jungkook was smiling like he'd won that round, picking up his chips and eating them.

"Ah, Taehyungie is jealous because Jungkookie is giving all his attention to me."

Taehyung froze for a second. The jokes between the members about Jungkook and him had been increasing — they even called the younger by his last name sometimes. He always played along like it was nothing, but whenever he saw Jungkook flinch, he couldn't figure out if that reaction was discomfort or… maybe, was it something else?

Taehyung shook his head.

"I'm gonna film this and post it on Twitter so our Army can see what a couple of babies you are."

"You're not gonna do that," Jimin kept on. "It won't end well for you."

Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to ease out of the situation, while playfully kicking Jimin, still on the floor.

"Jimin-ah, being without girls for so long is making you see things. I'm going to my room."

"No, Jungkook-ah, my entertainment."

"I'm out."

Taehyung watched Jungkook walk away, and even though something deep inside him said he didn't want him to go, he chalked it up to just genuinely enjoying his best friend's company. Maybe he'd have time to talk to him later.

"Taehyung, tell me, have you been secretly seeing a woman? An XX, a female?”

Here we go again. 

Just like he'd predicted, Jungkook texted him later:

"Hyung, come to my room, we gotta play Overwatch."

And without a second thought, Taehyung went.

Jungkook's room looked like it belonged to a Marvel action figure collector, with more than a few IU albums on the shelf. It was also pretty small compared to the other rooms. He had the privilege of sleeping alone, though in a tight space — which, for everyone else, was still considered a privilege since he was the youngest.

"Hyung, I didn't think you'd come so fast, I haven't even taken off my makeup yet."

"Jungkookie, your room is literally just a few steps from mine and Namjoon-hyung's."

Jungkook laughed as he pulled up a chair for Tae to get comfortable.

"So… Overwatch, or is this an excuse to hang out with your hyung?"

"Could be both," Jungkook answered, still smiling.

Taehyung didn't hesitate to show his own smile. Times had changed, and so had their financial situation — the new dorms were a blessing from above after all those nights crammed into that old place where everyone was on top of each other.

The night started doing its thing when the clock hit three and sleep started creeping up on both of them. Done with gaming — and done with Jungkook winning every single one-on-one match — they decided to flop onto the bed and talk about how some things in life were changing.

"I literally went to a convenience store completely covered up and one of our Armys recognized me and gave me a discount. I didn't know how to say no, Jungkookie!"

"Hyung, you gotta understand that you're really attractive."

"Huh?"

Jungkook corrected himself the second the words left his mouth. "I mean, like, out of the two of us, you're the better-looking one, you know? And obviously girls are crazy… about you… I saw on Twitter…"

Taehyung laughed at how he stumbled over his words. Jungkook had always struck him as endearing when he complimented one of the members. Sometimes he didn't know what to say and just went quiet, and sometimes he talked so much he'd end up embarrassed. It was something sweet about him that Taehyung appreciated.

"You're good-looking too, Kook. And… you really should stop going on Twitter."

"That's the whole problem!"

Taehyung furrowed his brows. "What problem?"

"Sometimes I feel like my face doesn't match my body. I'm built like this but I got a baby face."

"Yah! Don't say dumb stuff like that."

"It's true!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

Taehyung huffed, shifting further onto the bed. "If you say so."

"Hyung."

Taehyung looked at him. "What?"

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He just looked at him, like he was searching for something in his face — something he hadn't had time to name yet.

The room was dim; the only sound was the fan from the computer, still running.

"Nothing…" he said at last, but his voice wavered.

Taehyung barely smiled, trying to close a topic that had never really opened. "You should sleep, Kook."

"I'm not tired."

"Then turn off the light."

Jungkook rolled over and did it, leaving them in a blue-tinged darkness from the monitor's glow. Taehyung felt the mattress sink as the younger settled back down beside him.

"Taehyung."

"Yes?"

"Thanks for coming."

Taehyung heard him shift, and before he overthought it, he felt the brush of his arm. It wasn't intentional — or at least that's what he wanted to believe.

The air slowed down. And even though silences with Jungkook had never been the uncomfortable kind, this new one felt like it only existed because one of them had started questioning whether they'd already crossed some kind of line.

"Kook…" he whispered, barely a thread of sound.

"Hm?"

He didn't answer. He just looked at him, his eyes adjusting to the dark, taking in every line of that face he'd known for years. And there it was again: that oh.

There was no obvious movement. Just an involuntary closeness that neither of them would admit to afterward.

"Taehyung…" the younger's voice broke a little.  "Don't think about it."

He didn't.

Then Jungkook's phone buzzed between the sheets, breaking the moment.

"Who is it?," Taehyung asked, his voice somewhere between curious and annoyed by the brightness.

Jungkook looked at the screen and smiled, but didn't answer.

"Oh, so it's a girl," Taehyung raised an eyebrow, amused.  "Your female contact finally?"

Jungkook let out a dry laugh. "Jimin-hyung and his obsession with my love life."

"Well, he's not wrong. It's about time someone was texting you who doesn't use a microphone."

"Says the guy acting like he's got someone waiting for him."

Taehyung wrinkled his nose. "Touché."

For a moment, both of them laughed. The kind of laugh that loosens everything up, that undoes what came before. But the laughter faded, and in its place something heavier settled.

Jungkook still had his phone in his hand, but wasn't looking at it anymore. He set it aside, close to Taehyung.

"I don't know why Jimin says that," Jungkook murmured.  "I don't feel like I'm missing anything."

Taehyung looked at him, caught off guard by the tone, but not daring to speak.

"What about you, hyung?," the younger asked, not looking away.  "Is there something you're missing?"

He didn't know what to say. He just looked down, feeling the thick air, the space too small, the seconds too long.

Jungkook barely smiled. "I thought you'd say yes."

"I thought you weren't asking seriously."

Jungkook sighed, tired, still lying beside him. "I found out that Yoongi-hyung ended his relationship when we were in LA."

"You little brat, poking your nose into our hyungs' lives."

"I mean, I think it's okay, right? Fame's growing, rumors of us dating everybody and their mother keep popping up… I think it was smart to end it."

Taehyung looked at him seriously. "I don't agree with that. Whatever the case, it was a relationship, a commitment, Kook. It must've hurt him. Don't make comments like that in front of him."

"You're not getting it. I'm not against dating or breaking up because of the weight of fame," but with Hyung it's different. He was going to get judged, and I don't want that for him.

Taehyung understood immediately what the younger one was trying to say. It wasn't about stopping dating for the sake of the group; it was about reputation. And in a society like theirs, being seen holding hands with another man — as a man — was something that got pointed at and judged.

Taehyung had never been homophobic. Sure, he'd made comments in his teenage years that could be called "ignorant," but he didn't recognize himself as that kid anymore. Besides, Love Yourself had helped him reflect and become the understanding person he was now.

It was also true that he'd never been attracted to a guy. In fact, he hadn't really fallen in love properly since he'd entered this industry. Love had been complicated before, and it was so much more now — no time, and no girls you could trust without getting attacked afterward. He remembered back in high school, when girls used to send him love letters, and he'd said yes just to say yes, but nothing ever went further than a few weeks of texts and some casual hangouts.

That's why he felt so frustrated — but he tried to ignore it as much as possible: through singing, dancing, performances, livestreams, concerts, all of it, just to avoid thinking about it.

And well, he figured Jungkook did the same.

In his eyes, Jungkook was beautiful. If there was one word he could use for him, it was that. They'd rarely talked about their private lives; it wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt weird to know what Jungkook did outside of all this. He figured it was something like watching your little brother grow up. He just didn't want to know about it.

He started drifting back into the conversation. He couldn't believe the younger one actually thought he wasn't as attractive as him. So he looked at him again. Jungkook had those eyes that looked like opals instead of irises, a nose that scrunched when he smiled, and those red lips that carried his classic bunny grin.

It was also true that that face didn't match his current body very well — but to Taehyung it was perfect: broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and big arms from the muscle mass he'd been building.

Jungkook was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

Taehyung thought about saying something, anything to break that silence. But the words got stuck. There was something different about that night — something he wasn't sure he wanted to understand.

He looked at him again and felt that strange mix of warmth and fear, the same one that showed up every time Jungkook accidentally touched him or smiled too close.

Maybe he was just tired. Maybe that's all it was. But for one second, he let himself imagine what would happen if he didn't move — if he just let the moment run its course.

And then he heard his voice.

"Hyung, what are you staring at?"

Taehyung didn't know if it was his nights of voluntary celibacy that made him lean toward the younger, or if it was the way Jungkook looked at him, or maybe the members teasing them… he didn't know, but he leaned in.

Jungkook didn't hold back either. He curled in and exhaled slowly. Everything felt so strange and new at the same time. He felt dizzy and exhausted, but he didn't hesitate to close the little space that was left between them.

"Taehyung, promise me nothing's going to change between us."

Taehyung didn't answer — it was a promise he didn't want to make right now — but he kissed him like it was his first time: clumsy, teeth bumping, but with all the pent-up longing rising from somewhere deep inside. Jungkook kissed back, pulling him closer, his hands traveling up to his stomach.

He felt intoxicated, out of his mind over a touch he'd never experienced before and now never wanted to let go of. They shifted positions without looking at each other. Jungkook ended up sitting on the older's thighs, holding his hair carefully, while Taehyung tried to keep up with his rhythm. Nervous.

For a moment, that touch was more than enough to calm him down. And then he opened his eyes.

And Jungkook was looking at him the exact same way.

Oh.

He'd never been someone who scared easily, but for the first time he trembled and felt terror. Jungkook seemed to notice and they pulled apart immediately.

"I-I'll go to my room. Good night, Jungkook."

That night in 2018, sleep was the last thing he could manage.

Taehyung pulled his hand away from the younger's the moment he realized it had been resting on his thigh for too long.

He wanted to say: — Why the hell are you touching me? But the words wouldn't come out of his mouth, and all he managed was to stand up before Jungkook could make a deliberate move to hold him back. And Jungkook was like that — his way of caring wasn't through words, it was physical, showing that something actually mattered to him. And even though that used to be something that had brought them together, it no longer existed in the present.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"To lock yourself up again and pretend you're fine while everyone here is worried sick about you."

Taehyung turned around, offended. "And why the hell does it matter to you if I lock myself up?"

Jungkook took a few steps forward to close the distance. "You're being selfish with the group."

"I've given my life, my youth, to this group! I just want to be alone. What, are you gonna keep me here by force?"

Jungkook had gotten stronger over time, but that didn't make him look any less intimidating. To Taehyung's eyes, he was still the kid he'd met ten years ago. He knew his weak spots — knew what made him cry — and knew that if he kept going, Jungkook wasn't going to let him leave without an explanation.

But what happens when he doesn't even know what's going on himself?

He felt like an idiot sometimes.

Jungkook looked at him like he didn't recognize him.

"Why do you always have to make it so hard?," he asked, his voice wavering between anger and sadness.

Taehyung took a deep breath, pulling himself together. "Because I don't know how to make it easy, Jungkook."

"You're not the only one who's tired, hyung. We all are."

"You don't get it," Taehyung's voice barely broke. He looked down, fists clenching.  "I'm not tired of the work. I'm tired of feeling empty after all of it."

Jungkook stepped closer.

"Then tell me what you need."

"Nothing," He said it fast, almost like he was scared to hear himself.  "I don't need anything from you."

The silence was brutal.

"That's not true," Jungkook said slowly, not looking away, voice barely above a murmur. "If it were, you wouldn't be shaking."

Taehyung wanted to say something, but realized he was. He was shaking. From anger, from fear, from exhaustion. From everything.

"Go, Jungkook," he said finally, barely audible.

Jungkook didn't move. He just looked at him — the same way as that other night — like he was waiting to be stopped.

But he wasn't stopped.

He wasn't, right?

Jungkook, the youngest of their family, had always been spoiled in every way. Even now, in the new apartment, he had the luxury of being the only one with his own room, which gave him the privacy he'd craved after years of hard work.

"Teamwork is what makes things happen," their leader would say every time a performance went phenomenal. And that happened so often that Jungkook had started to fear the good streak they were on.

Everything had changed since international fame hit the group like an emergency brake. Not only did recognition come all at once, but their time started being worth gold. Jungkook knew his twenties didn't compare to anyone else's: he wasn't living the college life, he wasn't going to parties like a normal person his age. Since he was fifteen, the camera flashes had invaded his life and become part of it — like something that had always been there.

He could wake up on a different continent in the middle of the night and still be in his home country during the day; he chased the sunrise even when the moon was still out. On more occasions than he could count, he was on airplane mode while his friends were taking the subway.

He'd won the lottery with his talent — but was he actually living well?

Sometimes he felt like he existed in a different space-time than everyone else. And sometimes he felt like he had no time at all.

Reddit /askmen: I kissed my best friend, does that make you gay or whatever??? help lol.

Shit.

Jungkook vaguely remembered the girlfriend he'd had in middle school. He liked her, they liked each other, they started dating, but they broke up because they never saw each other. It was kind of pathetic that his first real relationship had been built on texts like:

"Hey, how was your day?"

"Good, I'm gonna sleep 'cause I practiced a lot today."

"Rest then."

Honestly, he figured he'd never actually been in love. Not for real.

Jungkook was a firm believer in love because of his parents' story: her chasing after it until she got it, and him unable to resist falling into the hands of fate. It was nice to think that out there, someone was made for you, even if you hadn't met them yet. Maybe it was nice to believe that, despite everything, you weren't alone — that you had a soulmate.

He was a romantic who rarely showed his sentimental side because it wasn't something "a man does," but he couldn't help it. It was in his blood. It was in him.

"You like this lyric?"

"Huh, hyung, are you talking to me?"

"You're really distracted today, aren't you? Because you asked me to come and you're not even here."

"I'm here."

"Yeah," Namjoon replied, "but not here." He pointed to his temple.

The days had been passing like leaves falling in autumn, and that particular day he'd asked Namjoon early on to come with him to the recording studio to review some lyrics and record the guide vocal that would help the other members when they came in to do their parts.

For some reason, the jokes between Taehyung and him about some supposed relationship between the members had stopped — and he was pretty sure the older was to blame. Don't get him wrong: the fanservice had never bothered him. He'd gotten so used to it that it felt natural when they asked him to be cute or spend more camera time with Jimin-hyung. They were friends, and beyond that, family. He'd grown up with that as his normal since he was fifteen.

It was just that now he didn't know if that thin line between what was fiction was starting to take a toll on what was reality. That damn reality.

"Hyung?"

"Yeah, Jungkook-ah."

"Have you ever felt like you weren't yourself?," he asked without looking up from his notebook.

Namjoon watched him for a second before answering. "All the time."

"No, I mean…" Jungkook searched for the words, frustrated.  "Not like insecurity, but like you're two different people: the one everyone expects, and the one only you know."

Namjoon barely smiled, setting his pen down on the table.

"Sure. One for the stage, and one for when the lights go out."

Jungkook nodded. "And what if the one you are when the lights go out scares you?"

Namjoon looked at him in silence for a few seconds, then answered calmly. "Then that one's the real one."

The younger looked at him, confused.

"The one that scares you," Namjoon continued.  "Because you can't control it. The other one — the one that smiles, dances, answers interview questions — that's the character you learned to master. But the fear… that's real."

Jungkook went quiet. He felt a knot in his chest, like his body understood something before his mind did.

"Sometimes," Namjoon added, with that calm of his, ¨you don't have to understand yourself completely. You just have to learn not to run.¨

Jungkook looked down.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn't look for an excuse.

Who cared who he really was even if he didn't fully understand it yet? Time was working against him. He was young — he didn't have to find answers that only overwhelmed his mind; he just had to feel. And fortunately, he was feeling. The feelings were there, not explicit, but present, and that counted for something.

Maybe he was just a dumb kid who still didn't know anything, but he was sure of one thing: his heart — and everything he denied being under the facade of what a man "should" be — was beating wildly, like the immature young person he was. Because it was true: when you fell into the grip of feeling, it was violent, but you couldn't stop falling, deeper and deeper.

"I want our music to reflect that: that we're human beings just as much as we are idols, that we can live that duality without losing the essence of who we are. That we can love, Kook, but before choosing to love someone else, we have to choose ourselves. To accept ourselves. We have to accept loving ourselves, even knowing we can't change who we are. That's self-love.”

"That sounds… beautiful, hyung."

Namjoon was a skeptic who didn't really believe in anything in particular, but he saw something in his youngest member that maybe Jungkook himself hadn't fully noticed. He adjusted his glasses and turned his eyes back to the lyrics in front of him, as if nothing transcendental had just happened.

Jungkook, on the other hand, sat still.

He felt something inside him loosen — like a cord that had been pulled too tight for too long.

It wasn't an answer, but it was a start.

"Hyung…"

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For reminding me that it's okay to feel as both Jeon Jungkook the idol and Jeon Jungkook the person."

Namjoon glanced at him sideways and nodded. "Then don't hold it back, Jungkook-ah."

The younger let out a short, nervous laugh. "Sounds easier than it is."

"Nothing worth it ever is."

Namjoon went back to his notebook and Jungkook understood the conversation was over. He finished recording a few chords and walked out of the studio with his head full of noise and his hands restless.

He had no particular destination in mind, but his feet carried him — inevitably — to his best friend's room.

To him.

He knocked on the door with his knuckles, once, twice.

"Come in," answered a husky voice from the other side.

Taehyung was sitting on his bed, a pillow between his legs. The room smelled like hot chocolate and sleepless nights.

"Weren't you supposed to be with Namjoon?," he asked without looking up.

"Already done."

"And you came here, why?"

"I don't know," Jungkook admitted, closing the door behind him.  "I guess I just… needed to see you."

Taehyung looked up.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence weighed just as much as the words that hadn't been said.

"I thought you were going to avoid me," he said finally.

"I tried," Jungkook answered, half-smiling.

Taehyung let out a dry laugh and gestured for him to sit beside him.

Jungkook obeyed.

"You know what? Neither of us has any idea what we're doing."

"I know."

"And you're still here."

"And you didn't kick me out."

Taehyung looked down. "I don't know if I can. I even told the hyungs to stop teasing me with you."

"That's terrible."

Taehyung looked at him, confused. "Why?"

"Now they're gonna tease me with Jimin-hyung."

The older couldn't hold back the laugh that started rising in his throat and just let it out, shoving Jungkook in the process.

"Sometimes I think you're such an idiot."

"Yah, Taehyungie! I had to lighten the mood."

"Yeah, okay, you pulled it off," he said, trying to sound serious but still laughing.

There was a pause.

Jungkook looked at him, with a smile still on his face. "You good now?"

"I don't know," Tae answered, shrugging.  "But at least I don't want to throw you out the window anymore."

"That's progress."

Both laughed again, but softer this time.

Jungkook stretched out, leaning his back against the headboard of his friend's bed.

"We're kind of a mess, huh?"

"Like always."

"Is that bad?"

"Depends on the day," Taehyung turned his head to look at him.  "Today… not so much."

Jungkook smiled. "Perfect, so today we survived."

"For now," Tae replied, getting up to grab something to drink from his nightstand.  "Tomorrow I'll probably want to kill you again… in overwatch"

"How romantic."

Taehyung laughed, shaking his head. "Shut up."

"Jungkook, don't make me say things outside that I don't actually feel or want to say."

"Then say them to me. If that's how I can know what's going on, say them. I don't care if they sting or not. I know you well enough to tell whether you're saying them because you're hurting or not."

"You don't understand…"

"Then let me understand."

Taehyung wanted to run right then — to crawl back under his cold sheets and drown in the daily routine where the sun didn't show up.

Maybe he was depressed, but how would he even know? It wasn't like he had a reason to be. His life was going well, his family was healthy, he now had creative freedom on some projects he didn't used to have, and next year their seventh anniversary as a group was coming up. So why was he sad if he had everything?

That's the moment you realize you've been running on autopilot for months without knowing why — and you just accept it. That you're so full to the brim, so backed up inside, that you can't even bring yourself to think about when exactly you stopped being you and became this gray-blue blur instead.

He just wanted to be happy again, to smile again — but he'd lost the path to getting there. Even talking to Jungkook, who had been his pillar in the past, felt so heavy.

He was exhausted. So exhausted that even saying it out loud felt like work.

Jungkook watched him without saying anything. He'd learned to recognize when to push and when to stop, but this time he didn't know which was which.

"Hyung…" he started, but the word dissolved into the air.

Taehyung barely turned his head. "Don't hate me for this."

"I couldn't," Jungkook answered, though he didn't sound sure.

The silence fell again, thick.

Taehyung ran a hand over his face, not looking at anything in particular. "I just… I need everything to go quiet for a little while."

"Is that noise coming from you?" Jungkook asked, almost in a whisper.

Tae didn't answer.

He just shrugged, like even that cost him something.

It was too much.

Jungkook was too much.

Taehyung had never liked being the big spoon. Actually, he didn't like picking a side when it came to sleeping next to someone; he was more of a go-with-the-flow type — he wanted his personal space, and every now and then decided to hug whoever he was sleeping next to if he felt like it.

Guess some things change when it comes to Jungkook.

He liked being the little spoon, the big spoon, any kind of cuddling there was — and Taehyung was trying to get used to it. Maybe he could allow himself to hold him once in a while, putting up with the warmth and the weight of the younger.

It was true that some things were different now, which was why he couldn't promise Jungkook that after what happened they'd go back to being the same. He, as the older of the two, needed to draw a line around certain things that were starting to come up: sleeping together sometimes. Showering together sometimes… and sometimes letting themselves stare at each other's faces for more than two minutes without doing a single thing.

Because that was not happening again. Are we clear?

And then there was this situation where one day you wake up next to someone you've known for more than ten years and you feel different about it — like something has changed, but you still can't figure out what… and you don't really want to stop it.

You're constantly fighting with yourself.

How would he even know? One day he simply woke up feeling something more.

He was completely confused. Sometimes he thought it was all in his head and he needed to leave that night behind, and other times he wondered if Jungkook was still his best friend.

"You're very quiet today, son."

Taehyung snapped out of his thoughts abruptly, dropping the cigarette between his lips just as fast, but he wasn't quick enough to hide it from his father, who rolled his eyes the moment he saw it.

"That's gonna do damage to your voice."

"I know."

His father sat down beside him, looking up at the stars of that night. It was warm — a mild March night — as spring made itself known after the cold winter, like a change. A change Taehyung hadn't quite figured out yet.

"You know, sometimes I regret not spending more time with you when you were little."

Taehyung looked at him, confused. "What are you saying, dad, you were there."

"Yeah… but not there. I always thought it was the right call to leave you with your grandparents when you were small. Work back then was too complicated, and your mom and I thought it was the right thing to do. But now…" Mr. Kim looked up at the sky for the first time that night, trying to untangle the words knotted up in his mind.  "But now I see you looking thoughtful and I don't know how to comfort you. Not the way your grandmother would have."

His grandmother's passing had left a mark on the whole family, and on him especially. Even now, sometimes he felt like a different person, imagining a future that no longer existed with someone who was no longer there.

It was one of the many changes the family went through. The next was moving to the capital, where their eldest son lived. Because even though that loss had broken them, it had also made them understand that being together as a family was what mattered most.

"Don't say that, dad. Just having you here is enough."

Mr. Kim laughed, putting one of his arms around his son's shoulders. "You're so charming… now I understand why everyone around here loves you."

Taehyung rested his head on the older man's shoulder.

Sometimes he didn't even understand all the love he was receiving. It was new, yeah, but it was beautiful. People from all over the world, letters in different languages, lives touched, voices resonating. It was breathtaking.

He thought he'd never get tired of the work he had, because it was a gift — it let him be himself. And even though there were things about himself he still didn't fully understand, he was learning to love who he was.

"You know, son, I've never been great with words the way your mother is, but you are my pride. And I love you."

"Dad…"

"Hold on. I know your group is growing and I know you're going to be bigger than you can even imagine right now. The sky isn't the limit, but just remember that evolving is also part of growing.”

Taehyung listened, but didn't respond right away. He sat there looking at the distant city lights, feeling that constant hum he'd started confusing with silence.

"Sometimes I don't know if I'm growing, dad," he said finally, voice low.  "I feel like I'm just turning into someone I don't recognize."

"And is that bad?," Mr. Kim asked, without taking his eyes off the sky.

"I don't know. I guess it shouldn't be."

His father smiled barely. "When I was young, I thought growing up meant choosing who you wanted to be. Now I think growing up means accepting who you end up becoming."

Taehyung went quiet, that line spinning around in his head.

He thought about the packed stadiums, the screaming, Jungkook laughing in the dark of some random hotel room. About the silences between them, about how he could no longer tell if it was friendship or something more — or just a reflection of how much everything had changed.

"Dad, did you ever feel scared of being happy?"

His father looked at him, surprised. "Scared?"

"Yeah. Like happiness is something that only lasts a moment and then… disappears."

Mr. Kim sighed. "Of course I have. But the thing is not to stop looking for it, even when it slips away."

Taehyung nodded, though he wasn't sure he understood.

That night, when he went back to the bedroom, Jungkook was already asleep.

He stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment: the steady breathing, the body curled up under the sheets.

He thought about everything that had changed since they first met. About everything he had changed.

And for the first time, after avoiding the inevitable, he lay down beside him, kissed his cheek, and whispered goodnight.

Jungkook smiled in his sleep, and everything felt right.

From that moment on — if things hadn't already changed long before that — it became real: he was falling into a hole called Jeon Jungkook.

Change was good, after all.

April arrived with the wind at their back, and so did his relationship with the younger.

They hadn't given it a name. They didn't need to.

It was just the two of them, exploring and enjoying each other.

The members also backed off with the teasing, which helped. They let them be, without really asking what was going on between them. Because in the end, their situation was theirs and no one else's.

And well — what's obvious doesn't need to be asked about.

They were genuinely on a good streak, but before you touch the sky, you have to feel the ground again — and the problems started.

And it wasn't their fault at first, even though they were caught up in it. It was something within the group itself — something that swept all of them in at once, like they'd all been shoved into the same bag.

"It was too much."

Taehyung remembered Jin's voice after the breaks: too much pressure, too much false information.

Watching their image, their appearance, what they did, their weight, their posture. There were eyes everywhere, and they couldn't escape them.

If he dug deeper into his memory, there was Hoseok crying over a sprain that wouldn't let him dance properly, and the collective worry about how the fans would react.

There was no comfort — even though their albums always talked about exactly that.

Where was the self-love that BTS preached so much?

It hit everyone differently. It hurt them differently.

In those dark times, his only lifeline was Jungkook — beside him after a long dance session, rubbing his bare back and whispering that he was safe.

But sometimes those words of affirmation weren't enough.

The anxiety of doing something wrong ate at him from the inside, and to keep from scaring the others, he cried in the shower in silence.

Jungkook could sense it, but he couldn't do anything if Taehyung wouldn't tell him what he was feeling.

Then, after several arguments among the seven of them, a painful proposal entered their minds: a break.

The Festa that year was genuinely sad and draining.

June stopped being a bright month full of rainbows and flowers, and started looking more like autumn — when you don't know if that's the day the sun will come out or not.

Yoongi noticed too, so he sent them all a message saying, in the end, that he loved them.

It felt like enough.

Was it? He wasn't sure.

Bang Si-hyuk called them in on that sweltering late-July day to discuss the "little problem." He was a man without a filter, one who had created the perfect formula for the perfect group. BTS was his masterpiece, his most prized creation, and he hated flaws.

For him, it was a marketing flaw that two of the youngest members had more individual relevance than the group as a whole.

He told them that, while he didn't care what they did off-camera, as their boss and producer, BTS needed to present themselves as seven — not as two.

They needed to think carefully about their actions and stop being selfish, because the group came before everything else.

At the end of the day, they weren't a person — they were a product.

And so came the censorship. More fanservice, more programmed bromance, more forced acting.

And Taehyung felt like he couldn't take it anymore.

September arrived, and with it another change of season.

A change Taehyung wasn't willing to accept, but understood was for everyone's good — ignoring his own well-being for the first time. Sacrificing himself for others, something that wouldn't be the last time.

That night, after kissing him like a lovesick fool and giving himself completely — body and soul — he told him he couldn't do it anymore.

Against his own desires, he let him go.

And even though they were professional actors the moment a camera pointed at them — able to play the best friends they'd always been — by the end of 2018, V — the idol of idols — broke on stage when Seokjin mentioned they'd considered disbanding that very year.

He couldn't hold it together.

It hurt Jungkook so much to see him so alone, so wounded, so broken — that he didn't give a damn if that moment was going to be trending worldwide later, talking about the two of them instead of all seven. His boss could go to hell for a hot second.

He hugged him in front of the entire fanbase, who was crying right along with them.

They were human.

And even though they were no longer together, their feelings remained intact.

That night, after announcing to the world that they were exhausted, they gave themselves to the only thing that still brought them comfort: each other.

That night they were no longer Jungkook and Taehyung.

Just two broken people trying to fill spaces where there was nothing left to fill.

And far from thinking it was tearing them apart — that what was left between them had become purely physical, between two people who had already shared everything — neither of them cared. And nights like that kept repeating themselves.

Until, simply, they stopped.

Because when there's nothing left to hold you together, there's also nothing left to pull you apart.

Taehyung and Jungkook were no longer the same people.

They had changed.

Everyone could see it, but nobody said anything.

Jungkook started spending more time with his 97-line crew, and Taehyung, in parallel, with his Wooga Squad. Different times now.

It was true that after every storm, there's a rainbow.

And so 2019 arrived.

Even though there were few words between the two of them, they didn't let the past affect things. Most of the time, they tried to act like nothing had happened between them… even though it had.

Sometimes it was glances.

Sometimes, subtle touches.

Indirect declarations in songs.

And hangouts that weren't really hangouts at the gym, with the excuse of working out, when the last thing they were actually doing was that.

They liked each other's company, even though whenever they came back to reality they couldn't help but wonder how they'd gotten to this point.

It wasn't love anymore — it was habit. Because the breakup hadn't just taken that person away; it had also destroyed a friendship of over ten years.

Kim Taehyung felt alone for the first time after the storm, right in the middle of the rainbow — when he realized his best friend was gone.

Nothing about I love you.

No kisses.

Very few hugs and almost never a real conversation.

They were lost, but when the lights came on, they were fine.

Taehyung thought he could live with that.

He thought that if it had only taken Jungkook a little while to move on — getting tattoos, dating a tattoo artist — then he could do the same.

He started going out, drowning in parties Jimin accompanied him to, and sometimes inviting girls back to his apartment.

It seemed like all the problems had been solved after losing himself. He now had enough money to buy his own place, and with that, supposedly, be happy. But it was the one thing he wasn't actually doing.

It was that moment when his fame had reached the sky, but he couldn't feel any of it.

Because one day, out of nowhere, he understood that he was just existing. Not living.

He sat down on his bed with Yeontan beside him and didn't know at what point his life had started coming apart at the seams.

It came back like a flashback — that room, the one that maybe held the root of all his internal wreckage. He tried to make sense of it. But if even he couldn't, how was the person who once had all the answers to his questions supposed to?

To him, Jeon Jungkook was just another idiot who had crossed his path.

And maybe his vision of him was distorted by pain right now, but his mere presence made him want to run and hide.

Taehyung had come to the conclusion that if you put a camera in front of them, he and Jungkook could work things out. They could "make up," accept that the past was the past and that it no longer needed to affect the present.

But he also knew it wouldn't be fully honest.

That needle would stab him in the nights, and the pain would come back.

It's not like things were different on camera, right? He played around with Jungkook, joked with the hyungs.

Everything seemed normal.

But it wasn't.

None of it was.

"Is that noise coming from you?" Jungkook asked, almost in a whisper.

Tae was lost for a moment, as if all the memories of the past had flooded him. Like a torrent of flashbacks that now made sense. Jungkook was right, the noise was too much. And flinched, because he himself didn't know if he was still himself after everything.

The studio smelled like hot cables and old wood. The panel light above the keyboard flickered with every breath Taehyung took, as if it too was getting tired of holding the moment together.

Jungkook was still there, quiet, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him. They weren't talking, and yet the air was saturated with everything they weren't saying.

Taehyung walked back over to the keyboard, lifting the lid and sliding his fingers across the keys without pressing any of them.

"I don't know what else you want me to say," he murmured, his voice worn.

Jungkook moved a little closer — just enough for the reflection of his shadow to blend with Taehyung's on the wall.

"I don't want you to say anything," he answered, soft.  "I just want you to stop looking like you're about to shatter every time I breathe."

The older let out a dry, bitter laugh. "And what if I don't even know I'm broken?"

Jungkook stopped. There was no answer for that.

The silence returned, heavy as invisible smoke that lingers after a cigarette.

Taehyung looked up. His eyes were empty, but inside that emptiness, Jungkook could still find traces of the man he had once known.

"I used to write because it made me feel alive," he said at last.  "Now I do it just to keep from feeling dead."

The confession came out with no intention of being dramatic. It was the most honest thing he'd said in months.

Jungkook pressed his lips together. He moved a little closer — close enough for Taehyung to smell the sweet fabric softener on his clothes. "You don't have to be strong all the time, hyung."

"What if I don't know how to be anything else?"

Jungkook looked down, his hands barely trembling. "Then let me help you remember."

The phrase hung between them. Not a promise, not comfort, not a plea. Just that: a clumsy attempt to stay.

Taehyung looked at him for a long moment without saying anything.

He could hear the faint click of the studio clock, the sounds from the hallway, even his own pulse in his ears. Everything felt more real than his thoughts.

Finally, he stood up from where he'd been sitting and walked away from the room's muse — the keyboard — which seemed to be listening to a declaration from a connection that still hurt to remember.

"You can't help me with something I don't even understand myself, Kook."

Jungkook watched him with his eyes as he gathered his things. He didn't push.

He just stood there, still, watching Taehyung put his jacket back on, watching him put on his cap as if that was enough to hide from the world.

"Hyung…" he whispered, just as Taehyung was opening the door.

Taehyung barely turned. "What?"

"When everything gets too loud, come find me. Even if you don't say anything."

Taehyung looked at him for a few seconds that felt eternal. He wanted to run over and hug him, cry into his chest. Maybe kiss him and tell him that time hadn't moved for him — that he was still stuck in that room, still didn't know where his life was headed, and that the only sure decision he'd ever made was choosing him. But he nodded, without a word, and left the studio.

Jungkook was left alone, looking at the closed keyboard.

For a moment, he thought about turning it on, but he chose the silence instead.

The same silence that stays when someone leaves — but is still somehow there.

And it was almost like not being able to avoid feeling pain for someone he still loved, but believed no longer loved him back. That was how Jungkook felt.

* * *

2020 arrived and, with the global lockdown, Taehyung decided to seek help. He didn't know if it was from the moving words of his Army that he came across on Weverse every now and then, or from the lingering worry of his members — or of Jungkook himself, who sometimes showed up at his door unannounced, bringing food, staying to keep him company without saying anything, but saying everything at the same time.

Jungkook had gone back to being the friend he once had, and even though it hurt to accept sometimes, it was better this way.

Talking to the therapist wasn't easy at first, out of fear that his personal information might get out. But after several sessions, and getting to know him better, he was able to understand that the man was honest, and that he could open up to him.

By then, Jungkook had stopped coming by, and Taehyung had made the decision to be happy again.

And to finish that unfinished song he'd once written in that lonely studio, at his lowest point.

Blue & Grey was added to their next album, along with Dynamite — the single that brought them as much happiness as it did tears of emotion.

If he'd ever doubted whether the sky was the limit, he now understood that it wasn't. Recognition could reach levels he hadn't known existed, and even though it had been terrifying at the time, it didn't scare him anymore. Now he could face it.

Then this girl came along, and then another, and someone else… and this time, without trying to fill any voids, he began to meet new people again.

And he forgot that his heart had once belonged to a certain Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook, for his part, had also started coming back to life. Time was passing so fast, but he felt like it no longer got to him — that he'd found his moment, and above all, his time.

"I see you doing so well it's almost a shame to say it," said the therapist with a smile, "but I'll be clearing you for discharge soon."

Taehyung returned the expression as he watched him close his notebook. "Look on the bright side," he replied, "you'll be able to come to a concert without feeling guilty about it."

The man laughed, giving him a knowing look. "There's just one thing left to close here. How are things with Jungkook?"

"Well… we've been getting closer again because of the concerts coming up in 2022. He's started giving me those knowing looks again, and I've been returning them. It feels good, in my chest, knowing he's still there."

"Can you be more specific?"

Taehyung hesitated, but ended up smiling. "Jungkook has always been the most important person in my life, after my family. He made me discover and understand things about myself that I couldn't see back then. It's almost impossible not to have a special kind of love for him… and it's also impossible to resist his charm."

"Tae."

Taehyung looked up when he heard his name.

"Have you ever thought about trying again?"

The therapist watched him calmly, without pressing, with that look that doesn't demand anything but still makes you think.

"Trying again?" he repeated, like the words tasted strange.

"Yeah. Not because you have to. Just because sometimes the fear of repeating a story keeps us from seeing whether that story still has something to say."

Taehyung looked down, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. "I think I already got over it."

"Maybe. Or maybe it wasn't about getting over it," but about understanding it.

The silence stretched out, accompanied by the distant sound of a car and the ticking of the clock.

"I don't know, doc. If I learned anything from all of it, it's that sometimes you love the wrong way, without meaning to."

"And also that sometimes you love the right way, just at the wrong time," the therapist said, barely smiling.

Taehyung looked at him, confused. "And what does that mean?"

"That maybe it wasn't the time to be something, but that doesn't erase what you were."

Taehyung nodded slowly, lost in thought. He didn't know if he was talking about Jungkook or life in general, and maybe it didn't matter.

"What if it's not him anymore?," he asked, almost under his breath.

The therapist set his notebook on the desk. "Then it'll be someone else. But if it is him… it'd be a shame to let something go that still moves you — something you can't resist — just because you're afraid it'll hurt again."

Taehyung didn't answer. He sat there looking at the floor, biting his lip.

The doctor smiled, without saying more.

"Sometimes the people who shake us up the most are the ones who show us who we really are when everything falls apart."

And Taehyung didn't know if he was speaking as a professional or as someone who understood too well what he was saying.

He walked out of the office with a head full of noise and a lighter heart.

And after a long time, he started playing along with Jungkook.

The concerts were a success, and even though the old therapist's idea about "seeing how things go with Jungkook" still echoed in his head, he decided to let it pass.

His mandatory military service was right around the corner, and he didn't know if that was going to make things heavier between him and the younger. If it was already complicated outside, he could only imagine what it would be like in there. So for his own good and to save himself some emotional peace, he decided to let that idea go.

But it was true: when he got to reflecting deep down, the doubt was still there.

What if he was wasting time?

What if he was really running from the inevitable fate of choosing love again?

He couldn't help feeling anxious. He couldn't help overthinking.

And even though he no longer cared about what people said — because at that level of fame, he could walk out in a shirt that said "your dog isn't my dog, and stop linking me to failed connections" — there was still some fear left.

Fear of destiny.

Fear of realizing that all roads, no matter how many detours they took, always led him back to the same place: Jungkook.

Was he avoiding an inevitable fate, or saving himself from the most painful heartbreak of his life?

He still didn't know.

Jungkook, for his part, came out of his military service and reconnected with the music that had always pulled him out of his darkest places.

Taehyung had become a memory — not the kind that hurts, but the kind you're scared to touch too much, in case it all comes apart in your hands. Without any clear signal from the older, he decided to keep going and focus on what he knew mattered.

Because family wasn't always blood or shared last names with strangers you barely saw at Chuseok; family was those friends who didn't let you go when you thought you couldn't keep going.

One of those afternoons, hanging out with Mingyu, the nostalgia hit harder than expected.

Between laughs and memories, he thought of Taehyung — how much he missed him. He missed his calm voice in the middle of chaos, his random comments, his way of making everything feel a little more bearable.

And out of nowhere, it hit him like a revelation: Taehyung had changed something in him.

For good.

The chat was still empty — the most recent message dated back months. Jungkook opened the window and typed something without thinking too hard about it.

He deleted it.

Typed it again.

Deleted it again.

In the end, he left one single line.

Simple, like it was nothing, but it wasn't.

"Do you remember the Han River?"

He looked at the screen for a little longer. He hesitated.

Then hit send.

On the other end, Taehyung was watching whatever variety show was on any channel, not really paying attention — he just wanted background noise in his living room. When suddenly the buzz of his phone woke him up.

He looked at the name, the message, and smiled without thinking.

"Yeah. When?"

* * *

The Seoul air blew warm that night, like spring was saying its goodbyes.

And for the first time in years, both of them felt the same thing:

That maybe there was still time. That they had time.

The Han River had always been their safe place in the world. Now he was running along it with the wind in his face and a few fans who whispered they were Army, careful not to intrude.

But that day was different from the others.

Jungkook and Taehyung — two strangers who knew each other's laugh and secrets — were cracking up watching the sunset fall over the water, feeling like the years hadn't passed at all.

"Can you believe I'm taller than you now?"

"Nonsense. You'll always be the smallest to me."

"Shut your mouth, Jeon Jungkook. You never learn to respect your elders."

The sky kept darkening, and a blanket of stars covered the night. Jungkook, for a moment, thought they were celebrating along with them. He'd never seen them so bright and beautiful as that night.

Then the inevitable moment came.

"You know," Taehyung started, voice calm,  "I feel like years can pass, everything can change… but not you and me. I know it sounds corny, but I really am glad you invited me tonight, Jungkookie."

Jungkook sighed, looking at the sky first, then at him.

"Because you and me never go out of style, hyung."

"You're doing those references I don't understand again."

Jungkook laughed loud, drawing the attention of some couples passing by. Taehyung, mortified, covered his face.

"You still act like a brat who can't behave! Grow up already!"

"Hyung! I have grown. My height even went up in the military… and my voice is deeper now," He looked him in the eyes, serious, for the first time that night.  "I think I did all of it to get back here. With you."

"I know the lyrics to our own song, Jungkook."

"You're ruining the moment!"

Taehyung laughed, and this time he didn't look away.

The breeze moved both their hair, and the reflection of the water painted their skin blue.

Jungkook went quiet, watching him, as if he was afraid of breaking something just by breathing.

The world kept moving around them.

They didn't.

* * *

[EXCLUSIVE] Kim Taehyung, V of BTS, and Jeon Jungkook of BTS were photographed on an off-schedule outing at the Han River, which… could be nothing.

The end,

(with a comma).