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“I think that I shall never see,” Hoseok begins, dramatically pronouncing his words as literature professors would (but then again, Hoseok’s father is a literature professor, so Yoongi could see why he’s so good with all those impersonations and is an actual drama queen to top it all off). “A couple as cheesy as TaeGi.” He looks like he’s about to say more, but Yoongi looks up from re-reading his history notes (if Yoongi only knew that there were so many readings he had to read through for a single minor subject, he wouldn’t have listened to Namjoon’s recommendations at all) and glares at Hoseok, making the latter squeak. “Chill hyung, it was a love poem.”
“Love poem my ass,” Yoongi grumbles, and Taehyung giggles from beside him, almost spilling the bowl of cereals in his hands.
“Cute” Taehyung says off-handedly, like he’s just been thinking of it but accidentally said it out loud. But he doesn’t take it back, only smiles at Yoongi, and Yoongi could feel his face heating up in embarrassment.
“What the fuck do you mean by TaeGi even,” Yoongi snorts instead, turning his attention back to his notes instead. But the words are swimming in his eyes and he doesn’t understand a single thing that’s written there. His eyes are just flitting over the words without even understanding them, and although it could be possible that it’s because of Hoseok’s teasing, it’s also because he could feel Taehyung’s eyes on him, as if studying him.
“Taehyung and Yoongi. TaeGi. Your couple name, duh.” Hoseok says, and even when Yoongi isn’t looking at him, he could practically sense that Hoseok’s rolling his eyes. It’s a habit that he can’t avoid when he’s trying to make a point, but Yoongi knows it can only be associated with the origins of his drama queen personality. “And don’t tell me it’s not for real, because the love is definitely not dead.”
Yoongi is tempted to fling his notes in Hoseok’s direction, but they’re important for him to pass college, so he doesn’t. He contemplates on borrowing Taehyung’s bowl and chucking it at Hoseok’s face instead, but that would mean touching Taehyung’s hand and as sappy as it sounds, he might not want to let go (if Hoseok could read his mind right now, every table in the world would probably go flipping). And Yoongi’s still kind of in that phase where he doesn’t want people to know how much he likes holding Taehyung’s hand (although his roommate, Seokjin, does have an idea that Yoongi’s favorite idea of skinship is hand-holding, if him asking “is it because you think holding hands is a sacred form of skinship that would totally give you heart boners?” to Yoongi once, when Seokjin asked if he could hold Yoongi’s hand while they were watching horror, was enough of an indication).
There’s a yell coming from inside the only kitchen in their sharehouse, and Yoongi could make out Seokjin’s voice saying “Hoseok, stop bothering Yoongi’s couple time with Taehyung and help me cook lunch!”
“What do you mean by couple time?” Yoongi growls, and Hoseok keeps away from his line of vision and runs to the kitchen, all the while giggling. At times like these, Taehyung would usually be the first one to start laughing it off, but this time, he’s quiet.
Taehyung absentmindedly stirs the cereals in his bowl, and by the looks of it, they’re already soggy from being soaked in milk for a long time. The milk’s already turned a shade of yellow, and Yoongi bets it’ll only take a few more moments for all the cereals to sink to the bottom of the bowl.
“Do you hate it?” Taehyung asks, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. His eyes are trained on his bowl and he looks like he has something on his mind, and Yoongi knows it’s bothering him now, even when he doesn’t usually say anything. “Whenever they tease us.”
For a moment, Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He lets out a huge sigh before leaving his notes on top of the coffee table and facing Taehyung. “I don’t like any form of teasing. It makes me feel like I’m twelve.” And it’s not much of the truth, really—he likes teasing people a lot, and when he’s on the receiving end of it, he could always think of a snarky comeback right after so it’s not like he really hates it. But getting teased by their housemates that it’s as if he’s in a relationship with Taehyung when he can’t even figure out how to address his feelings for Taehyung frustrates him, because he feels like it’s just confirming more and more about how much he likes Taehyung.
And the truth is, it scares him, really—the last time he’s let himself fall for someone, it had ended up with mean words unintentionally getting lashed out at each other and he had left with a broken heart. And even when time had healed all those wounds, the scabs were still there, and it would always remind Yoongi of how once, he was a fool for having had believed that in a relationship, love was all that mattered.
“And yet you keep on teasing us.” Taehyung says, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t look like he’s mad, but he doesn’t look like he’s joking about it either. Yoongi thinks it’s cute and all whenever Taehyung gets serious about something—like when he’s found a new hobby or is concentrating when he’s studying or writing his essays—but when he’s like this, somewhere in-between chillingly nonchalant and dead serious, it’s quite unnerving because it feels like he’s a completely different person. “It’s a bit called karma, hyung.”
Yoongi thinks Taehyung really shouldn’t be giving him a lesson on this. Yoongi knew what karma was— it was something a lot like him leaving his clothes lying on the floor because he’s too lazy to pick up the ones that missed the laundry basket when he was trying to throw them in; it was something a lot like him breaking up with his girlfriend of two years over a phone call and being the one on the receiving end of the generic “It’s not working out between us, I think we should break up” a few years after.
But Yoongi is a lot more familiar with irony—it was something a lot like trying to shield his heart from getting hurt, but then having Taehyung put down those walls he built for a long, long time in just a matter of a few months; it was a lot like the familiar feeling of falling in love again even when he’s told himself not to.
The look disappears on Taehyung’s face all of a sudden, and he’s back to smiling, as if the brooding expression on his face was only a trick of the eye. “You hungry?” he asks Yoongi, his voice perking up a little too high that Yoongi’s sure he can only be faking it.
Yoongi stares at the bowl, hesitating. He really isn’t fond of cereals, especially those that are already soggy, but Taehyung is already picking up the spoon and scooping up some cereals with some milk before he could even shake his head. “Say ahh…” Despite all his words against being treated like a child, Yoongi opens his mouth and lets Taehyung feed him, feeling something constrict in his chest.
The cereal is most definitely soggy, but Yoongi can still taste a bit of honey and apple, although it’s mostly muted down by the milk. He makes a face while chewing, and instead of offering him water or juice to tone down his obvious dislike of the cereal’s texture, Taehyung openly laughs at him, almost spilling the contents of the bowl on his shirt, so he puts it aside for a while. “Hyung, you look like I fed you soup with too much sesame oil.” Yoongi cringes at the memory.
The first time all of the sharehouse’s residents gathered around for dinner, it had been Yoongi’s birthday the previous year. Jimin and Jungkook, who were Taehyung’s roommates, were the ones in charge of buying the birthday cake, while Seokjin and Hoseok were in charge of preparing the dishes. Taehyung had an exam on that day so he wasn’t able to help around, and Namjoon—although his parents owned the sharehouse—wasn’t allowed within a hundred-meter radius of the kitchen because no one wanted the Great DisasterTM from the previous week to happen again.
Seokjin took a culinary crash course the previous summer and Hoseok had never once overcooked or undercooked breakfast, so Yoongi had a strong belief that the seaweed soup they served him after giving him the shock of his life (Yoongi has never really trusted locked doors ever since), forcing him to wear a party hat (which was more of like a paper boat actually, courtesy of Taehyung’s rushed paper-folding idea) and making him blow the candles on top of the cake was a good one.
Instead of eating up all of the contents of the bowl of seaweed soup, however, Yoongi ends up spitting it out, the overpowering taste of sesame oil ruining his taste buds.
“I told you we should’ve made a new one,” Yoongi heard Hoseok whisper to Seokjin. And the rest, they say, is history.
“Don’t remind me of that.” Yoongi says. There’s a look on Taehyung’s face that Yoongi rarely sees, and he tries to recall when he’s seen that look, but then he gets distracted when Taehyung reaches out a hand to touch his bottom lip and run his thumb against it.
Yoongi’s left speechless when Taehyung retracts his hand to give his thumb a lick. “There was milk on your lip.” Taehyung reasons. And although the smile he gives Yoongi after that is innocent, that action definitely was not.
“Kim. Taehyung.” Yoongi says, letting out a shuddering breath. For a moment, a stricken look passes on Taehyung’s face, like he’s scared Yoongi will lash out on him.
There are lines Yoongi’s not supposed to cross, he knows this—promised himself that he’ll never cross those lines. But he knows that even when he’s kept denying himself that he’s waited so, so long for this, and he lets himself grab a fistful of Taehyung’s shirt—lets himself pull Taehyung towards him and stare into his eyes.
It’s Taehyung who closes the gap between them and leaves a kiss on his lips—just a light, innocent peck; tentative and shy, and really, it’s all that’s Yoongi’s been waiting for.
When Taehyung pulls away to look at the expression on his face, Yoongi chases his lips and kisses him intently, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. Taehyung’s hand comes up to tug at Yoongi’s hair, and Yoongi moans into the kiss, letting his tongue slide against Taehyung’s. It’s awkward and sloppy and not really as perfect as first kisses in movies go, but still, it’s enough.
“So is the—oh my god!” Hoseok yelps, effectively ruining the moment, and Taehyung and Yoongi instantly move away from each other. “Don’t even pretend it didn’t happen when my perfect 20/20 vision caught you guys shamelessly making out in this—“Hoseok points at the couch they’re sitting on with a shaky finger. “Couch that we all use!”
Even if Hoseok hadn’t seen them, he could probably have figured out from their swollen, spit-slicked lips and mussed hair, but Yoongi would rather have lived a day without having Hoseok see him making out with one of their housemates. “C’mon hyung, everyone knows you and Seokjin hyung fucked here, stop pretending like we’re sinners.” Taehyung retorts, and Hoseok has the audacity to gasp and pull off more of his theatrics.
“This house is a house made up of lies! I’m not talking to any of you anymore.” Yoongi sees his face turning a shade of red that could only be for embarrassment, before he stalks off and goes back to the kitchen.
There’s an awkward silence hanging in the air, and for a moment, Taehyung only looks at Yoongi with a curious expression on his face. “So,“ he begins, stretching his arms over his head. His shirt rides up a bit so Yoongi could see a bit of skin, but he averts his eyes right away. This is certainly not the time to ogle. “When are we going on a date?”
“Date?” Yoongi blinks, not quite believing his ears. Just moments ago, there was this awkward sexual tension rising between them and now, Taehyung is asking him for a date. It still doesn’t feel like it’s real.
“Yeah, a date for our date. No puns intended.” He says, and Yoongi knows that in other cases, he’d probably slap Taehyung on the arm for coming up with unintended lame puns when Seokjin already had too much of that covered, but Taehyung is looking at him with a big, hopeful smile and he feels like he should put it off for some other time.
“Tomorrow?” Yoongi says, a lilt of uncertainty in his voice.
“Tomorrow.” Taehyung says, full of hope, and Yoongi can’t help but grin.