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They joke, sometimes, that Taehyung does whatever he wants whenever he wants. He's been a force of nature on his own since he returned from enlistment. Taehyung has a tendency to be kinder than he realistically should be, maintaining a constant type of resolve whenever people are being invasive towards him. That's just how he's always been—authentic, thoughtful Kim Taehyung.
Recently, Taehyung has been honest. Too honest. Or—okay, not that it's a problem to be honest or anything. Taehyung just… how does Namjoon put it? He gives up a lot of himself. He's selfless, which makes him so likeable to everyone he meets and everyone who lays eyes on him.
The tour celebrating their newest album and reunification of the group is where Taehyung's selflessness shines. His willingness to connect with their fans, in other words.
"You've been acting up," Seokjin laughs around a mouthful of Belgian waffles. Namjoon can only watch as Taehyung shrugs it off, hair perfectly messy and eyes crinkled upwards in delight, because things like this don't bother him as long as his fans are happy. Namjoon can only watch and wonder why exactly things have been nagging him.
Taehyung smiles, and reaches to stab another piece of dessert with his fork. His thigh presses up against Namjoon's—even through denim and khaki, he feels the soft muscle of the younger's leg. "It's not a big deal to me."
It's not a big deal to him so it shouldn't be a big deal to anyone else. But for some reason, there's something prodding at the back of Namjoon's head, contemplating why he's so distraught over Taehyung giving their fans his clothing.
The dongsaeng causing him so much trouble knocks on his door later that evening, well after their concert in Brussels had finished.
When Namjoon opens the door, Taehyung stands there looking awfully small in his oversized hoodie despite being a man of larger proportions. His hair—recently dyed a lighter brown—flops over his forehead, and he's wearing bear slippers that would look rather ridiculous if they weren't being donned by such a beautiful man.
"Can I hang out?" is all that his younger member offers as a greeting.
Can you hang out is what Namjoon would like to question in return. Can you, because admittedly, he doesn't understand why Taehyung chose his hotel room over any of the other five members. Jung Hoseok's room is placed right next to Taehyung's—surely he would have more entertaining activities to provide Taehyung at this hour. All that Namjoon suspects would happen is some sort of deep discussion, which he's fond of, or a speculation on their tour, which Taehyung is fond of.
Maybe it's the unexpectedness that causes him worry. And it shouldn't, since he's the leader figure for six other grown men in a professional sense, all with individual feelings and personalities that cause other troublesome events when thrown together in a group. But it does. Taehyung is here, and that disarms him.
"If you want, you can hang out," Namjoon responds like it's nothing.
So Taehyung is sitting cross-legged on his bed two minutes later, the hood of his sweater pulled over his head as he observes the current state of Namjoon's hotel room. He seems particularly interested even though his hotel room should virtually look the same; all of his clothing is folded in stacks atop one of the chairs and his laptop is set up at the desk. Taehyung's gaze lingers on the shirts.
The mattress dips when Namjoon takes a seat next to Taehyung on the bed. "What brings you here?"
"Restless," Taehyung says simply. "You look good, Joon hyung."
He does that a lot: say something, then say something completely unrelated. Or maybe he only does it to Namjoon. Apparently, Namjoon is the only member who outwardly gives him a visual reaction, because Taehyung laughs, tucks a piece of soft brown hair behind his ear from under the hoodie.
Namjoon is wearing a graphic T-shirt that he's had for three years and the most basic-looking sweatpants and his huge prescription glasses. According to Taehyung, he looks good enough to be told so. This is incredible material for his head to digest later.
"I'll pretend like I agree with you," he snorts.
"You don't?"
"I don't think I look any different than I normally do."
"Then, normally…" Taehyung's voice draws out for a beat longer, eyes flitting to the ceiling, "you look good, too. I guess I don't tell you enough."
Namjoon blinks.
"That you look good all the time," Taehyung adds, because apparently he registered the silence as confusion. He then proceeds to place his hands in his lap and trace the creases of Namjoon's sheets with a finger, because to him, nothing significant had happened.
Does he know what he does to Namjoon's head? How everything can suddenly feel like it's spinning? The very existence of Kim Taehyung is already too much for the world to handle, for his beauty and his warmth and his curiosity towards life itself should not be allowed to manifest in one human being. Yet Taehyung still exists, and the universe had, for some unknown purpose, given Namjoon the responsibility of making sure Taehyung is never giving up too much of himself to the rest of the world.
Namjoon is human. An incredibly rational, careful one, but he is human. Really, was there ever a chance of coming out of this alive?
He clears his throat. Pretends like he wasn't just pondering the basis of their relationship. "Well, thank you."
"You're very welcome, hyung." Pleased with such an easy acceptance of the compliment, Taehyung nods enthusiastically. His hair flops up and down with every movement; Namjoon feels his heart physically clench in his chest. "Oh. But I do have something to tell you."
"What is it, Taehyung-ah?"
Taehyung's eyes briefly glance over to the piles near Namjoon's open suitcase. "I'm running out of clothes."
Right. His clothes. The ones he's been giving to their fans. Taehyung likely stopped by to discuss how he's been treating their fans recently, and ask Namjoon if it's a good idea to continue down this path with the rest of their tour, because that's what (or who) Namjoon is—his thoughtful, intelligent group leader.
"I believe I saw you give an ARMY your sweater earlier today," Namjoon says. (There wasn't any 'believing' whatsoever. He noticed Taehyung's bare arms two seconds after the younger man reappeared on stage, coated in sweat and rippling with defined muscle.) "What convinced you to make that decision, exactly?"
From under unfairly long eyelashes, Taehyung's gaze lingers on him. "Are you upset?"
"That you're giving away our group's merch?"
"That I'm giving away my clothes, hyung," Taehyung specifies. As far as Namjoon is concerned, the differentiation makes zero difference in the grand scheme of things.
This feels much more layered than it needs to be. Taehyung himself is a collection of thoughtfully-placed layers, from the way he presents himself in front of the fans to the way he dresses to the way he speaks to the others when they're in a private space. For the past decade or so, Namjoon has tried to gingerly peel the layers apart, just so he can get a better grip on what exactly makes up Kim Taehyung's mind. Only then would he truly be able to stop himself from spiraling every time Taehyung barely toes the line with him, so God help him.
He's upset. That much, Namjoon can admit. He would love to do anything except break down the reasons why.
"I think…" Namjoon pauses, if only to recollect the thoughts not regarding his own personal qualms with Taehyung's decisions. His voice lowers and smooths itself out, shifting the air into something less intimate and more polished. "It was a little brash at first. That's the nature of fanservice, though. If fan expectations bother you to the point of discomfort, then you know to talk to me. But from a professional standpoint, I'm not upset."
Taehyung takes his hands out of his lap and plants them behind himself on Namjoon's bed, then leans his weight backwards onto them. He seems to study Namjoon's expression for a few quiet seconds following his response.
"Okay," Taehyung says neutrally.
Namjoon seems to do a lot of echoing today. "Okay?"
"I'm still running out of clothes, though." And in another sharp, deliberate movement, Taehyung's eyes return to the numerous piles of clothing sitting on Namjoon's chair.
If there's anything Namjoon has learned from his attempts at prying Kim Taehyung's layers apart, it's that Taehyung is very intentional with his actions. He shows up for the people who need him, he'll walk close enough to the fans so they run their excited hands along his arms, and he makes sure his feelings are known in some shape or form.
Naturally, if Taehyung casts him a line, Namjoon bites. Not before testing the waters, though.
"As you can tell, I brought a lot of clothes with me." He nods towards the stacks atop the chair. "Feel free to take whatever you need, Tae."
The waters calm exponentially: Taehyung relaxes upon his reply, mouth forming a close-lipped smile. His eyes crinkle as they'd done prior, when they were with the group. "I will. They might be a little big on me, if that's okay." A funny comment, because Taehyung sounds quite content with the idea of Namjoon's clothes not perfectly fitting his body like a glove.
Namjoon is also pleased at this twisted idea of Taehyung wearing his clothes. It quells his soul so much to the point he forgets that the fans have some of Taehyung's. He prefers not to address why.
Jimin takes a seat next to Namjoon when they're flying to London. This should be a significant movement in itself, because Jimin's airplane time is monopolized by Jeongguk any chance he gets. Apparently whatever Jimin has in store for Namjoon is more important than watching ocean videos with their golden maknae and attempting to fit two people in one lounge chair.
(He can feel Jeongguk staring at them from across the plane, where the youngest is currently sharing some snacks with Seokjin. Jeongguk does this often and he likely doesn't even realize it. Should Namjoon speak to him about his lack of subtlety? Yeah, probably. Will Jeongguk hate it? Yeah, probably.)
"Fill me in on what's been going on with you lately," Jimin says.
Namjoon pulls a wired earbud out of his ear; as soon as it falls onto his lap, Jimin picks it up and toys with it, twirling the wire around his index finger. "In my humble opinion, I've been perfectly fine. I think you have more going on than I do," he answers, with a blatant look towards Jeon Jeongguk's direction.
"Mm… I wish I could believe you, Moni hyung." The tone in Jimin's voice—airy, teasing—is enough to indicate his intentions. Through some shape or means, he's been able to read the extreme hesitance Namjoon has been taking when it comes to Taehyung. Honestly, it's a curveball Namjoon should have prepared for, given their 'soulmates' status and how often they talk. An unfortunate mistake recognized too late and shelved for future reference. "Things are just—ah, well. It's a little too clear, you know?"
Jimin is dancing around the facts, because he's smart like that. Because he's waiting for Namjoon to acknowledge things first, and he knows Namjoon is usually the one doing the waiting. He's observant, for sure. No wonder so many of the members confide in him for things both trivial and serious.
"I feel like I've been overthinking," is what he chooses to start with. Jimin shifts his body sideways so he's facing Namjoon properly, hands folded over the armrest. "About things that really should not be bothering me. I don't think I know what to do with myself. I know how I should be feeling, yet it doesn't align with where my thoughts are at the moment, so… it's a conflict."
"I think it would help if you'd be more specific," Jimin carefully replies. "It may also be more helpful if you were honest with yourself."
"Would it?"
Namjoon follows Jimin's gaze towards one of the plane's booths: Taehyung and Yoongi are sitting side-by-side, the two of them looking at a book laid out on the table. Yoongi's hands are waving around as he seems to be discussing something he read in the book. Taehyung, on the other hand, is leaning back against the wall, his hands fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. It's a piece of Japanese streetwear from an obscure designer, the same logo that was imprinted on Namjoon's pants from a few days ago.
"We've all noticed that he's wearing your stuff," Jimin states in a hushed whisper, leaning closer to Namjoon, "so really, you're not fooling any of us."
"Yeah, you're not."
Namjoon yelps at the sudden sight of Jung Hoseok appearing in front of them with a bag of crackers in his hand.
Jimin squints up at Hoseok and grins. "Ah, Hobi hyung. Don't you think you should excuse yourself before scaring him?"
"Please don't tell me you were eavesdropping," Namjoon rasps.
With a shrug, Hoseok takes a seat right on top of the armrest separating Namjoon and Jimin's chairs. The fragrant smell of umami fills the air while he continues to devour the rest of his shrimp crackers. "I figured you guys were talking about the thing," and he lowers his voice dramatically to reflect its importance, "based on the way Namjoon looked so pensive."
"I feel as if you're implying that the group has discussed my recent behavior…?"
Namjoon's remark is swiftly ignored in favor of Jimin's lips curling into another smile. "It's just—hm, stiff, is all. Things seem a little odd whenever you're in the same room together. We're only worried about you, hyung. We promise."
"I just hope you get it together," Hoseok straight-up admits.
"Oh, we're bringing it up to him, now!" a cheerful voice exclaims. Seokjin has made his way over from his snack table and he claps a hand over Namjoon's shoulder. "Look at you, confronting your emotions. This is honestly a surprise. I didn't expect this at all."
Namjoon chuckles. He's a little scared. Actually, that's a lie—he's absolutely terrified. "How did all of you come over here so quickly?"
"This isn't the airport or anything," says Hoseok. "Everyone can hear you."
Four heads naturally turn to peer in the direction of Taehyung and Yoongi, who are still in the corner with a book. Their heads are still ducked in deep discussion over the book; relief floods Namjoon's heart. For the time-being, at least… he was still held up on the fact that the other members discussed his qualms with Taehyung. If they can address it, why can't he?
He's certainly not emotionally constipated. Well, Namjoon doesn't think he is.
"Are you done yet?"
When the group refocuses, Jeongguk is standing in front of their small gathering with hoodie-clad crossed arms and a cocked eyebrow. God, he's so grown. Namjoon remembers the exact day he first met Jeongguk: shrimpy, a little scrawny-looking, and chock full of talent he didn't know how to polish to its fullest. Now, he's a hell of a lot bigger—not to mention even more perfect.
Seokjin laughs. "Hi, youngest. Done with what?"
"Talking about Namjoon hyung's issue with Taehyung."
The other four members go silent. Hoseok makes a face like he's desperately trying not to laugh.
"Well," Jimin begins gently after an extremely long period of silence, "we were trying not to mention it by name, so that hyung confides in us by himself. If anything, we weren't talking about much of substance at all."
"Namjoon probably already knows what's going on. He's just scared of doing anything about it." Jeongguk shrugs, then turns to Jimin, his expression softening tremendously. "Hyung, I miss you. Come back to me?"
Jimin melts. It all happens in real time. "Oh, Jeongguk-ah…"
"Yah, ignore them," whines Seokjin, despite being a sucker for stuff like that. "Wait, but—Jeongguk has a point. Why do you think we brought it up to you? Namjoon, you know you can't avoid it forever, right?"
Regardless of how ridiculous this situation is, they're right. All of them are: the conversation served as a nice refresher as to where he stands with Taehyung. He has been scared for heavens' know how long. Realistically, Taehyung would never reject him like that; he's straightforward and pretty damn warm when it comes to his words. Namjoon casts another glance towards the booth where Taehyung is sitting, and absorbs the sight of him in his clothing.
His attention is redirected back to the group. All of the present members are observing him. Eyebrows raised, Jeongguk says, "If it's on your mind so often, just do something about it. Talking to us won't help."
Namjoon feels old. When did they become so wise? A decade ago, it would have been hard to address the concept of members dancing over the line of professional and something more. But here they are, sitting amongst their staff members, tens of thousands of feet high in the skyand casually discussing the impossible.
He's the leader. He leads by example, so he should be a good example.
Jeongguk shifts to the side to allow space for Yoongi and Taehyung to enter their pseudo-huddle. Yoongi's eyes linger on Namjoon thoughtfully, with the air of someone who knows exactly what he's thinking. Probably because he does. "Is Namjoon thinking too much?"
"When am I not?"
"You should stop doing that." Taehyung's voice, uncomplicated and warm, cuts through their current line of conversation. The gaze coming from Yoongi looks as if it may know more than he lets on; in Taehyung's eyes, Namjoon can't read a single thing. His voice is enough to gather what his dongsaeng would like to tell him, however. "Sometimes things are placed in front of you, yet you overlook them."
Out of his peripheral, Hoseok looks between them, then redirects Jeongguk and Seokjin towards the back of the plane to speak in a gossipy, hushed tone about something urgent, surely. Jimin trails behind Yoongi when the older man motions in the direction of his carry-on. So now it's just him and Taehyung, with millions of unsaid words between them and no place to retreat.
His eyes drift down to the large shirt—Namjoon's—hanging on Taehyung's frame. "I'll figure it out."
"Will you actually," murmurs Taehyung; he hasn't moved an inch from where he's standing in front of Namjoon, but his fingers continue to fiddle with the sleeves, and that says enough.
Namjoon reaches out and links his fingers loosely with Taehyung's
This is a very unconventional way of leading by example, Namjoon thinks, as opposed to the usual stern talk or long lecture he'll have with his members. The reassurance has to be there somehow. He knows that, even if he doesn't know what exactly he's feeling or thinking. If Taehyung feels unsure, it's only his responsibility and duty as someone who loves him to make sure he feels secure in himself.
That's what it is, isn't it?
"I will," Namjoon promises. And Taehyung nods, millions of unsaid words being released through a single movement.
Thank the heavens Taehyung isn't wearing a jacket for the second half of their London concert. He's cute as always in a baseball cap with tall cat ears at the sides—it makes Namjoon want to pinch his cheeks ten times more than usual.
Stage interaction with the other members is always easy to pass off as insignificant; brief waist touches and winks are little messages of support and comfort on a normal night. It's always nice to see Hoseok laughing unashamedly at the looks on the other member's faces or to see Seokjin initiating something he can never finish.
It honestly takes a lot of effort for things to look intentional on stage. Like, when Jimin and Jeongguk ignore the directions their staff give them for the ending ment and sit next to each other, heads bowed in an exchange of inside jokes and quiet conversation (they're as private as two celebrities can get, allegedly, but not a secret.)
Like, when Namjoon begins to peel off the sleeves of his zip-up as he approaches Taehyung, who's currently walking between London's crowds of fans with his arms outreached and his hands touching the skin of hundreds. That's his thing—has been since the beginning of the tour. He likes being able to make them happy. It's why he's so incredibly chill about handing out his clothes like it's nothing.
Thank the heavens Taehyung doesn't have a jacket on.
The fans realize he's just a few paces behind Taehyung and start screaming in time with the beat of the song: Joon, we love you, Namjoon oppa, please come over here. As expected, Taehyung turns on a heel and searches for him. He always does, in one way or another. He loves when he has the attention of his diligent leader.
Namjoon slows in front of him, throws his unzipped jacket around Taehyung's shoulders, and walks away. There's no point in checking to make sure it stays on Taehyung's body, rather than flung into the cheering people or passed into the hands of an adoring fan. Namjoon loves when he has Taehyung's attention.
They may be laying themselves out for the cameras and crowds right now, but Taehyung will always know where home is. They may have Taehyung for now, but Namjoon has him for life.
"Can I return your jacket?"
Later that evening, Taehyung appears in front of Namjoon's hotel room, dressed in a sleeveless top, baggy sweatpants, and exactly zero jacket on his body. Namjoon's eyes drift down to his hands—all he's carrying is his wallet and his phone. No zip-up jacket to be found.
He has an idea of what's going to happen, after taking such a leap in front of thousands. The thing is that Taehyung has been casting him the line for months now. The horribly selfish thing, is that Namjoon wants to take it.
Can you?
He bites.
"Of course you can," Namjoon replies. Quietly, they slip inside the hotel room and shut the door behind them.