Chapter Text
Yoongi tells himself that this is the last time he’s letting himself be selfish, but when he’s carding his fingers through Taehyung’s hair more to calm himself than help in lulling Taehyung to sleep, he finds that letting go might not be as easy as he’s made to be.
“Hey, Tae.” He says softly, hand pausing when Taehyung turns to the side to face him.
Sleep is close to closing its curtains over Taehyung, and when he smiles, it makes him look so young—so beautiful, so near his grasp yet still so far away, and Yoongi kind of wants to take it back. “Yeah?”
He doesn’t know how to phrase it in the way that would make it hurt less—he knows there’s no possible way to make it hurt less—so he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair one last time before letting his hand fall to his side. “Let’s break up.”
There’s a momentary pause for when Taehyung lets Yoongi’s words sink in to his system, and he blinks up at Yoongi, as if daring Yoongi to repeat it again. When Yoongi doesn’t say anything, he sits up and gives Yoongi a sad, lopsided grin, which was quite uncharacteristic of him. And then, quietly, he says, “Is it because I passed the auditions?”
Yoongi purses his lips. “Yeah.”
“Is it because you don’t want to be associated with an idol?” Taehyung’s eyes are devoid of the warmth that Yoongi’s so used to seeing in them, and he wants to take it back—wants to say it was all a joke and that it won’t happen again, because the downturn of Taehyung’s lips isn’t what he wanted to see.
“No.” he says a little too quickly, because it really isn’t. Just because he is an underground rapper and most of the people he got to work with on the scene brewed some unnecessary hatred towards idols and popular media in general didn’t mean he thought like them. “I just want it to be easier for the both of us.” Easier, because that means he wouldn’t have to be worried over Taehyung when he’s out there, doing gigs. Easier, because he thinks Taehyung would adjust to the trainee life much better if he wasn’t thinking of anyone waiting for him outside the walls of the dormitory room he’ll have to share with other people while he’s still training to be an idol.
Taehyung takes one long, dragging breath, and then he’s sitting up. He looks at Yoongi as if trying to burn holes into Yoongi’s face—Yoongi knows he deserves it—but then the expression on his eyes soften and the frown tugging at the corners of his lips is now more of a sad twist in a line. “If you think you’re making things better by doing this, I’m telling you: you’re not.”
There is a dating ban on every entertainment company and Taehyung knows this—but he also knows that if he’s discreet enough, he won’t get caught and would still probably live the same way with Yoongi, except now he’d be busier, going home late or not even going home at all.
And what Yoongi knows about being a trainee in an idol company is this: even when you’re careful, there are several ways in which the people around you could bring you down. That when you’re not looking out too well for your own back, there would be people waiting in line to drag you down; waiting, a little too enthusiastically to replace you. He doesn’t want that to happen to Taehyung.
Yoongi sits up too, and this time, he doesn’t look at Taehyung, but at the door, left open a tiny fraction that only a bit of light from the living room is filtering through. Taehyung’s parents are going to be home soon, he knows, and he stands up to leave. “I am.”
Taehyung scoffs, and Yoongi can’t help but turn around to look at his face. He looks mad, but he doesn’t look like he won’t be forgiving Yoongi any time soon. If anything, Yoongi thinks he could see something underneath that look. Taehyung probably understands where he’s coming from, but he has a different way of dealing with things compared to Yoongi. It’s like that when they kiss—Yoongi’s all teeth and tongue, while Taehyung’s all licks and nibbles. But somehow, they made it work.
Yet seeing as to how this would become the end of it all, Yoongi doesn’t know if people were right all along—that the attraction from someone that’s the complete opposite of who you are will only last you for so long until the fire burns out in you both and you’re back to square one, except now, you’re nursing a broken heart in your hands with a couple of band-aids to try to piece it back together.
Taehyung holds his gaze, expression turning stony. “Let’s do that, then.”
“Okay,” Yoongi says, even when it’s not. “Okay.” He repeats. And when he turns his back to leave, he doesn’t notice how Taehyung’s face falls as the last few strings of hope he’s been trying to hold on to disappear.