Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“I am not doing it, Minji.”

Taehyung’s voice carries cleanly across the pool, the sound echoing faintly as he glides toward the edge with ease. His fingers brush the cool tile, water streaming down the line of his arm, and he pushes off again without pausing, cutting through the water in another smooth lap.

When he lifts his head to breathe, he catches sight of Minji standing rigidly at the edge of the pool. Her arms are folded so tightly across her chest that it almost looks painful, her shoulders drawn high with tension, her jaw set in a way that tells him she has already decided she will not leave until he gives her the answer she wants.

“But why?” she demands, the question coming out sharper than she probably intends.

Taehyung exhales slowly as he reaches the wall again, dragging himself up just enough to hook an elbow over the ledge. With his free hand he pushes his damp hair back from his face, water dripping down his temples as he looks up at her with tired patience.

“Because it sounds stupid,” he says at last, the words simple and blunt. “And I don’t understand why it’s necessary.”

Minji mutters something under her breath that is definitely a curse, turning away from him to pace across the slick tiles, the sharp tap of her shoes echoing through the room. She drags a frustrated hand through her hair before turning back to him again, eyes blazing with urgency.

“It is necessary,” she snaps, her voice rising, “I thought you’d understand, Taehyung. Out of everyone, I thought you would understand. So why don’t you?”

For a moment Taehyung doesn’t answer.

Instead he pushes away from the wall again and slips back beneath the surface, letting the water close over his head in a rush of muffled quiet.

When he surfaces again, he floats on his back for a moment, staring up at the sky before turning his head toward the side of the pool.

Minji is still there, still watching him with that same desperate intensity.

And that more than anything else is what unsettles him.

She looks exhausted by it, by whatever plan she’s trying so hard to force into motion, by the sheer strain of needing him to agree. 

It tugs at something in him he would rather ignore.

He is trying to understand, he really is, but no matter how many times he turns the situation over in his mind, he still can’t see why it has to be this way.

Taehyung lets out a long sigh, as he drifts back toward the edge of the pool.

“I do understand,” he says finally, quieter now, resting his arms along the tile as he tilts his head back to look at her. “At least… I understand what you’re trying to do.”

Minji’s expression shifts, hope flickering across her face.

“But,” he continues, the word gentle, “I still don’t understand why it has to be me doing the distracting.”

He pauses, frowning faintly as he searches his memory.

“What was his name again?”

Minji presses her lips together, clearly fighting the urge to snap at him.

“Jeongguk.”

“Right.” Taehyung nods slowly. His gaze drifts back to the water for a moment before he looks up at her once more.

“Can’t you find another way?”

Minji drags a hand down her face, as though the argument has already drained whatever energy she had left to fight him with. For a moment she just stands there, staring blankly at the rippling water, before she finally gives up and drops onto the narrow bench by the pool. The wood creaks softly under her weight as she leans forward, elbows braced on her knees, her posture sagging in a way that makes her look much smaller than she did a moment ago.

“I don’t know,” she mutters after a beat, the sharpness gone from her voice now, replaced by something more defeated. “It’s the only thing I can come up with, okay?”

Taehyung watches her quietly as he drifts closer to the edge of the pool.

For a moment he says nothing.

Then, after a thoughtful pause, he sighs.

“I think,” he says slowly, choosing his words with more care this time, “that you could beat him even without playing dirty.”

Minji lets out a short snort, lifting her head just enough to glance at him from beneath furrowed brows.

“Without playing dirty?” she repeats, the disbelief in her voice sharp enough to cut. “That’s rich, coming from you. Weren’t you the one who once pretended to lose your team’s strategy sheet just so the other side would relax and get sloppy?”

Taehyung frowns immediately, his brows knitting together as he pushes himself up a little higher against the edge of the pool.

“That was for a game,” he argues, “This is different.”

Minji huffs under her breath, rolling her eyes as she leans back against the bench.

“It is literally not,” 

Taehyung lets the silence stretch for a moment, watching the way she avoids his gaze, the way her fingers begin worrying restlessly at the hem of her skirt like she needs something to occupy her hands.

Finally, he exhales through his nose.

“Okay, then give me one reason. Just one. Why do you want this so badly?”

For a long moment, Minji doesn’t answer.

Instead she stares back at him, her expression tightening as if she hadn’t expected him to push that far. Then, slowly, her gaze drops to her lap, her fingers continuing to fidget with the fabric of her skirt, twisting the material between them in nervous movements that make it painfully obvious she is trying to hide something.

“I just want to be the best,” she says at last, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “And you know how appa gets.”

Taehyung’s expression shifts almost instantly, the faint frustration lingering in his face fading into something far more understanding than he probably wants to admit.

Oh.

He definitely knows.

Being the heirs of Kim Corporation had taught both him and Minji, from the moment they were old enough to understand the weight of their own last name, exactly what was expected of them and exactly how they were meant to exist within the world.

Perfect poster children for the Kim name, polished and presented like something placed carefully behind glass for the world to admire. Always composed, always elegant, always carrying themselves with the effortless confidence that came from knowing every move they made would be watched, scrutinized, and inevitably judged. They were the ones who never stumbled, never slipped, never faltered in front of an audience that was always waiting for them to do exactly that.

The ones who dated only the right kind of people, attended the right events, spoke the right words, and won at everything they so much as placed their hands on.

And if they didn’t–

Well.

There were consequences for that.

Consequences that came in the form of quiet judgement from their peers, whispers in business circles, headlines in media outlets that loved nothing more than watching powerful families crack under pressure. And above all of it, worse than any article or rumor, there was their father’s disappointment.

Taehyung had grown up learning how to carry that weight.

Minji had too.

But the thing was, Taehyung knew his sister far too well to believe this was only about that.

Because this determination to beat Jeongguk wasn’t just about living up to their father’s expectations or protecting the Kim name.

There was something else beneath it.

Something she wasn’t saying.

“Is this Jeongguk kid really that good?” His voice drifts lazily across the water. 

Minji doesn’t look up.

“Yeah,” she mumbles after a moment, her voice small, “But I know I can be better. Just… with a little help.”

Taehyung tilts his head slightly, turning just enough to look at her properly now, and what he sees makes something in his chest ache in a way he doesn’t quite expect.

Minji’s usual confidence is nowhere to be found.

The sharp posture, the almost intimidating composure she carries like armor, it's all gone. Instead she sits hunched over herself, shoulders drawn inward as if trying to shrink from something invisible, her expression uncertain in a way he rarely, if ever, gets to see.

And it hurts, because he understands that feeling far better than either of them would ever admit out loud.

“It’s like…” Minji starts, then stops, chewing nervously on her lower lip as she searches for words that don’t seem to want to come easily. “No matter what I do, Professor Lee always praises Jeongguk. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in or how much time I spend fixing things, it’s always him who gets noticed. It’s like he’s the one who shines, and I’m just… a shadow standing next to him.”

Taehyung frowns slightly at that.

It’s strange hearing jealousy in Minji’s voice.

They are the Kims. They grew up with advantages most people could only dream about. They had always been the ones people envied, the ones others tried to compete with.

But clearly, somehow, Jeongguk has something Minji believes she doesn’t.

And that alone makes Taehyung curious.

“What’s the project about?” he asks after a moment.

Minji finally glances up at him, though the look she gives him is unimpressed at best.

“We have to design a building,” she says flatly, before waving a dismissive hand in the air as if already bored with the explanation. “And I’m not going into the details and wasting my time explaining it when you won’t understand it anyway.”

“Hey!” Taehyung immediately protests with an offended frown. “That’s rude..I know what you architecture kids do.”

Minji just stares back at him, utterly unamused.

Taehyung sighs, the dramatic sound echoing faintly off the tiles as he drags a wet hand through his hair again.

“Okay, maybe not the details,” he mutters reluctantly. "Isn’t Jeongguk the same kid with the tattoos and piercings? The one with the long hair he usually ties back… and those bangs always falling into his eyes?”

Minji glances at him like the answer should be painfully obvious.

“Yes, that’s him,” she sighs, "And of course you know him. Everyone does… with the reputation he has.”

Taehyung hums quietly, letting himself sink back into the water again.

Jeongguk does have a reputation.

Just not the kind most people would want.

He’s different in a way that seems to make people restless, the kind of different that makes others watch him a little too closely and whisper when he passes by. Quiet to the point of seeming distant, always moving through campus with his headphones in like the rest of the world exists somewhere far outside the bubble he lives in. 

He doesn’t have friends and most of the time he slips through hallways and lecture halls like a ghost people notice only after he’s already gone.

And of course, there are rumors.

Something happened last year, Taehyung remembers that much. The details had spread through campus like wildfire for a few weeks, fragments of stories passed between students in crowded corridors and group chats buzzing with speculation, but he had never paid enough attention to piece together what had actually happened. 

Jeongguk had never been someone Taehyung cared enough about to investigate, just another name drifting through the background noise of university gossip.

Still.

Curiosity nudges at him now.

“What people say about him,” Taehyung says after a moment, glancing over at Minji again, “are those things actually true?”

Minji frowns slightly at the question.

“I don’t know, Taehyung,” she replies, sounding faintly irritated by the direction of the conversation. “I’m not exactly friends with him.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then something clicks in Taehyung’s mind so suddenly that he straightens in the water.

“Wait.”

He stops mid-step in the shallow end of the pool and points at her with dripping fingers, eyes narrowing in dawning suspicion.

“Are you asking me to date him or something?”

Minji groans immediately, throwing both of her hands up in the air as though the sheer stupidity of the conclusion physically pains her.

“Tae, just fucking distract him,” she says, exasperation spilling through every word. “Be his friend or something. I’m not asking you to kiss his mouth. And he has no friends, so he’ll definitely get distracted.”

Taehyung stares at her, unconvinced.

“Plus…” Minji continues, hesitating for a second as if deciding whether or not to say it. “Sometimes he stares at you. So maybe he wants to be your friend.”

Taehyung blinks.

Yeah.

There’s that.

Because sometimes Jeongguk really does stare.

Taehyung remembers noticing it more than once, though he had always brushed it off at the time as coincidence. 

Jimin, who is… kind of friends with Jeongguk? Taehyung isn’t entirely sure what they are to each other, because Jimin floats between social circles the way only Jimin can, effortlessly collecting acquaintances the way some people collect hobbies.

Once, Jimin had invited Jeongguk to sit with them for lunch.

Taehyung remembers it vividly now. Jeongguk had sat quietly beside him the entire time, shoulders slightly hunched, his long dark hair pulled loosely back with a few strands falling over his eyes.

He had barely touched the food in front of him.

Instead, he had spent most of the meal sitting there in silence, those wide, doe-like eyes drifting back to Taehyung again and again.

Watching him.

Like Taehyung was the most interesting thing in the room.

Maybe he has a crush on him.

It wouldn’t be the strangest thing in the world.

A lot of people do.

Taehyung has grown used to it over the years. It’s never really bothered him, not in the way some people might expect. If anything, he’s learned how to accept it with quiet indifference, brushing it aside without making anyone feel humiliated for trying.

But accepting it and returning it are two very different things.

Taehyung has never had any intention of doing the latter.

Which is why the thought now creeping into his mind makes him uneasy.

Because if he actually does what Minji is asking, if he goes out of his way to befriend Jeongguk, then what if Jeongguk misunderstands?

What if he starts thinking Taehyung is interested?

That would make things… complicated.

“When is your project due?” Taehyung asks finally, pushing the thought aside for the moment.

“It’s a semester-long project,” she replies. “So before the next semester starts.”

Taehyung blinks.

Then he lets out a short laugh. “That’s three fucking months, Minji.”

She shrugs, completely unbothered by the reaction.

“You don’t have to stick to him all the time,” she says calmly. “Just enough so I can do better. And only after college hours. I know you’d be embarrassed to be seen with him on campus.”

Taehyung’s mouth opens immediately, the protest already forming on his tongue but the words die before they can leave.

Because denying it would be a lie.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed of Jeongguk, not exactly.

It’s just…

Jeongguk is an outcast.

And Taehyung has spent his entire life carefully avoiding situations that might make people talk about him in ways he cannot control.

People already watch him enough as it is.

He doesn’t need to give them more reasons.

That’s all it is.

Really.

“Taehyung…”

Minji’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, softer now, almost pleading.

“This would mean so much to me,” she says quietly. “I just… I just want Professor Lee to appreciate me for once.”

When Taehyung finally looks at her properly, the sight hits him harder than he expects.

Her eyes are glassy like she’s been fighting tears she refuses to let fall.

And immediately, instinctively, a surge of protectiveness rises in his chest.

He hates seeing her like this.

Hates the idea that she feels like she has to beg for recognition when she has always been one of the most capable people he knows.

But still.

Hanging out with Jeongguk?

That is going to be a pain in the ass.

And worse than that, if Jeongguk really does start thinking Taehyung likes him…

Taehyung doesn’t even want to imagine how awkward that will become.

And worse than that is the inevitable flood of gossip that will follow the moment people notice Taehyung Kim spending time with the campus’s most mysterious outcast.

“How about you give me some time to think about it?” he says at last.

Minji straightens immediately, her head snapping up so quickly it almost startles him.

“Okay,” she says quickly, nodding like she’s afraid he might take the offer back if she moves too slowly. “Take your time… just please think about it, yeah?”

Taehyung studies her for a long moment, a small crease forming between his brows.

Minji has always been competitive. She has always chased first place like it’s something she was born to claim.

But this?

There’s something more frantic beneath the determination now, something that makes her look almost desperate, like she’s chasing something far more important than simple academic validation.

Like she needs this win for a reason she hasn’t told him yet.

“I will, Minji-yah,” Taehyung says finally, “I’ll think about it.”

Taehyung decides he will make his mind about Jeongguk after observing him a little more.

Sure, they have hung out before but those few shared lunches or walking side by side when Jimin happened to bump into them on campus didn’t exactly count as quality time. Even then Jeongguk barely spoke a word. Taehyung sometimes wonders how much Jimin even knows the guy, much less why they are friends. Jeongguk is so quiet it is like he is allergic to conversation. What does he even bring to the friendship? Silence?

So yeah about the whole “observing Jeongguk” thing, it’s necessary. Because Jeongguk is a little... well, Jeongguk. And Taehyung doesn’t want to get involved with someone who might turn out to be sketchy. Call him judgemental but he is just being cautious. For all he knows Jeongguk could be a drug dealer. Or a murderer. You think he is exaggerating? Have you seen how anti social that boy is?

And Taehyung for one doesn’t want his name tied to some true crime documentary twenty years from now.

It is Wednesday, which means he knows exactly where to find Jimin. At the little cafe near campus they always end up at mid week. Taehyung strolls there at his usual pace, offering casual hello and charming smiles to people who pass by. What can he say? He is popular. Okay more than just a little popular. Perks of being the heir to one of Korea’s largest conglomerates. His face is familiar, more than a few people know who he is even if he has never said a word to them.

Sure enough when he reaches the cafe, he spots Jimin at a corner table, already mid meal and completely absorbed in his phone. His brows are furrowed, lips pursed in concentration, his tray a chaotic mix of fries, ketchup and a large chocolate milkshake.

Taehyung’s eyes quickly sweep the table, half hoping to see Jeongguk sitting across from him but no such luck. He sighs and makes his way over, slumping into the seat opposite Jimin.

Jimin glances up, unimpressed, then casually tosses a fry into his mouth before returning his attention to his screen.

“What’s got you so focused?” Taehyung asks, reaching over to steal a fry without hesitation.

Jimin doesn’t even look up, “Get your own fucking food.”

Taehyung grimaces, glancing at the sad pile of fries and half melted shake. “I would but looking at your tray is already clogging my arteries.”

Jimin sips his milkshake with a dramatic slurp. “And yet you are still eating my fries.”

Taehyung smirks. “Let me guess, you saw Minhae making out with someone again?”

“Fuck you.”

That earns a laugh from Taehyung. Jimin had been dancing around an almost relationship with Minhae for months now. Casual hookups, heated glances, late night texts that went nowhere. And though they never officially dated, Jimin’s obsession was anything but casual. The problem? Minhae never really seemed interested in committing and it drove Jimin insane.

Taehyung leans back, resting his arm on the back of the chair. “You know,” he muses, “for someone who has dated half the campus, you sure get fixated on the person who won’t date you back.”

Jimin ignores him.

“Where is Hobi hyung today?” Taehyung asks, changing the subject when he realizes Jimin’s mood is spiraling.

Jimin doesn’t look up. “You don’t remember? He is taking guitar lessons.”

Taehyung quirks a brow, “Guitar? Since when?”

“Since Yoongi hyung started teaching him,” Jimin replies looking at him. “You know that senior.”

“Yoongi…” Taehyung trails off thinking. “Ah. The one who always looks like he has not slept in five days.”

“That’s the one.”

Hoseok had been acting a little strange lately. Ever since they had all gone to that bar downtown the one where they stumbled upon Yoongi performing on a tiny stage lit by low amber lights. Hoseok had been captivated and inspired apparently. He had not stopped talking about learning guitar since, claiming that something about Yoongi’s presence, the way his fingers moved over the strings so effortlessly had struck a chord in him, pun very much intended.

And now, somehow Hoseok was seeing Yoongi more than he saw Jimin or Taehyung.

“Don’t you think he has been weird about this Yoongi dude?” Taehyung asks, poking at the edge of the Jimin’s tray.

“Huh?” Jimin responds absently, his eyes still locked onto his phone.

“You know, the way he gets all heart eyes and shit every time he sees him.” Taehyung leans back in his chair, arms folded loosely over his chest.

Jimin shrugs. “I mean… he looks up to him. What’s wrong with that? I think it’s sweet, honestly. He actually seems serious about learning guitar. And he looks… happy.”

Taehyung hums, unconvinced. “So what? now we have to start hanging out with Yoongi hyung too? Like are we getting a group package deal? You, me, Hobi Hyung... and Jeongguk.” He snorts. “Just imagine that.”

Jimin finally looks up, brows furrowing. “Well I know you will be the one making it weird, so yeah… probably awkward.”

Taehyung blinks. “What the hell does that mean?”

Jimin goes back to scrolling. “It means you are never welcoming when Jeongguk’s around. You get all cold and standoffish, like you are trying to win some invisible battle he is not even playing.

Taehyung frowns. “That’s not true. I have tried to make him feel included. He is the one who just stares at me all the time like I am some kind of puzzle he is trying to solve.”

Jimin sighs. “Maybe… maybe he just wants to be friends, Tae. Have you ever considered that?”

“Well I want to be friends too” Taehyung mutters defensively, though his words falter halfway through.

Friends for now, his mind adds quietly, the thought slipping in before he can stop it. Because he has ulterior motives, because there is a reason he suddenly cares about getting closer to Jeongguk, and the faint flicker of guilt that follows makes something uncomfortable settle in his chest.

He pushes it away just as quickly.

Instead he clears his throat and forces a casual tone. “So…tell me something about him then. I want to get to know him better.”

That finally gets Jimin’s full attention. He sets his phone down on the table, eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to peer through Taehyung’s carefully arranged expression.

For a moment, Taehyung wonders if Jimin can see right through him, see that this sudden interest isn’t entirely innocent. That there’s something behind it. That this is about Minji.

make it novel style, improve the flow, give it more depth,  give the dialogues more weight, make it sound better, i need longer continuous sentences instead of smaller ones.

But then Jimin’s gaze softens and he smiles. It’s small, sincere.

“I am glad Taehyung,” he says. “Jeongguk’s a good kid.”

Taehyung nods, though he can’t quite hold his friend’s gaze. Instead he reaches out and steals another fry, chewing in silence as the guilt slowly starts to settle in his chest.

It’s fine. He is doing this for Minji. For his family. That has to come first.

“What do you want to know? Jimin asks, voice lighter now.

“Anything,” Taehyung shrugs, feigning nonchalance like he isn’t a mission wrapped in guilt and ulterior motives.

Jimin gives him a look. “Well… I think you already know the basics. He told you about himself the first time you two met, didn’t he?”

He did?

Taehyung blinks. Shit.

No, he didn’t. Or maybe he did and Taehyung just wasn’t paying attention.

Jimin must have caught the way his face blanks out because his eyes narrow slightly. “You do, right? Remember?”

Taehyung’s mouth opens, the closes again. For a second he considers telling the truth. But that would only raise more questions he isn’t ready to answer. So instead he lets out a laugh.

“Of course I do, Jimin,” he says smoothly, “what do you take me for?”

Jimin smiles, reassured. “That’s good then.”

There is a beat of silence before Taehyung leans forward, trying to pivot. “You know what? Let’s forget about you telling me more stuff right now. How about… ” he taps his fingers on the table, “You just tell me where I can find him instead?”

Jimin blinks at him, surprise flickering across his face so openly that Taehyung almost braces himself for suspicion to follow.

But it never comes.

Instead, something softer appears in Jimin’s expression, something that looks dangerously close to hope.

“You want to talk to him?” he asks slowly. “Get to know him better?”

Taehyung forces a grin, even as another pang of guilt claws at his chest. “Yeah why not?”

Jimin’s whole face lights up. “That’s actually great, Tae. seriously, he is always so quiet and it would be good for him to have someone like you around.”

Taehyung looks away for a second uncomfortable with the warmth in Jimin’s voice. He doesn’t deserve that praise. Not right now.

“He is usually holed up in the library,” Jimin continues, “Or hanging around with Yoongi hyung. Or working at Caffeine Lab but right now he should be at the library.”

Taehyung’s brow knit together. “Wait. Yoongi hyung? He and Jeongguk know each other?”

“Yeah, “ Jimin says, nodding. “Jeongguk sometimes records demo guides for him.”

“He sings?”

Jimin frowns. “I thought you would have known that.”

“Yeah… um… I do. I just forgot.” Taehyung stands abruptly, chair scraping against the tiled floor. “I have gotta go. I will catch up with you later, okay?”

Jimin looks like he wants to say something but Taehyung’s already stepping away waving over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Jimin calls after him. But Taehyung barely hears it. He is already pushing the Cafe door open, the bell above it jingling faintly as he walks out into the late afternoon sun.

Taehyung does end up going to the library to find Jeongguk just like Jimin told him to. 

He has a class right now, an actual class he is supposed to be sitting through but apparently  Minji’s problems are more important than his attendance record. She owes him for this. Big time.

He rarely steps foot inside the library. Studying at his apartment has always been his preference. Quiet, private and most importantly comfortable but he understands why everyone else seems to love it here. Most students live in the dorms, sharing rooms with noisy roommates and for them this place is probably the only sanctuary.

The moment Taehyung walks through the glass doors, the scent of paper and the faint hum of the air conditioner hit him. His eyes scan the room slowly turning from one side to the other, searching for that familiar mop of dark hair. Halfway through, his gaze locks with someone he wishes he had never seen, Park Seri.

She has been trying to hook up with him since last semester, each attempt more desperate than the last. Seri’s face lights up the second their eyes meet and Taehyung forces a polite smile before turning away. His polite smile quickly collapses into a grimace when he sees Seri get up, fast and start walking toward him.

Nope. 

Not today.

Taehyung turns and heads in the opposite direction, weaving through the rows of shelves as if the library is suddenly a maze. He’s about to duck into the far corner when he spots him.

Jeongguk.

The younger boy is tucked away at the very end of the room, glasses perched on his nose, head bent over a fortress of four open books. He has earphones in, his bangs spilling into his eyes while the rest of his hair is tied back loosely. He looks… focused.

Instinctively, Taehyung drops into a seat a few tables away, angled perfectly so he can see Jeongguk without being noticed. 

Now that he is actually here, he has no idea what he is doing. He has never been the type to follow people around, much less spy on them like some kind of creep.

But here he is. Doing exactly that. All because of Minji.

With a sigh, he pulls out a couple of his own books, arranging them neatly in front of him. If anyone asks, he is studying. Definitely not tracking Jeongguk’s every move.

For the next hour or maybe it’s less, maybe more, Taehyung watches as Jeongguk works. The boy occasionally leans back, muttering to himself under his breath, gesturing with his hands like he’s physically trying to pull the solution out of the air. Sometimes, he digs into his bag, pulls out a snack and pops it into his mouth without breaking his concentration. He is so animated in such a quiet, restrained space that Taehyung can’t help but think 'what a little weirdo'. 

Eventually, Taehyung’s attention drifts. He snaps a photo of the open page in front of him and posts it on his Instagram story, more out of boredom than anything. His phone is halfway back into his pocket when movement catches his eye.

Jeongguk is looking at his phone.

Wait.

 Does that mean...? 

Taehyung frowns, pulling his own device back out and opening Instagram again. He has thousands of followers and doesn’t know half their usernames so finding Jeongguk manually is impossible. But Jimin follows him, and Jimin follows Jeongguk so...

A quick scroll later, there it is jeongguk.97  Barely twenty followers. A handful of pictures. And sure enough he is following Taehyung.

Well. That’s interesting.

When Taehyung glances back up, Jeongguk is zipping up his bag, preparing to leave. Without hesitation Taehyung shoves his own books into his backpack and slips out of his chair, following at a careful distance.

Jeongguk walks with the kind of quiet focus that makes him blend into the crowd, head down, earphones in, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Taehyung trails after him at a careful distance, hood pulled up, praying no one notices him and the obvious fact that he’s shadowing a boy across campus like a suspicious extra in a bad spy movie.

They weave through the side streets near campus until Jeongguk slows and Taehyung’s heart skips. Has he noticed?

Jeongguk comes to a complete stop.

Shit.

In a split second,Taehyung sidesteps into the narrow gap between a vending machine and a lamppost,pressing himself against the cold metal like he’s part of the scenery. His pulse pounds in his ears as he watches from the corner of his eye.

But Jeongguk doesn’t turn around. He crouches instead, unzips his bag and pulls out a crinkled packet of dried fish treats. A stray cat, small and scruffy peers out from under a parked scooter. Jeongguk holds out a piece, his expression softening . The cat edges forward, sniffs and then starts eating from his palm.

For a moment Taehyung just watches.

Jeongguk stays there for a while, stroking the cat’s head with his knuckles, murmuring something Taehyung can’t hear. Then as if the little interlude never happened, he tucks the packet back into his bag, zips it shut and keeps walking.

When they reach the main road, Jeongguk crosses to the other side. Taehyung lingers on the curb, watching as the boy disappears behind a glass storefront.

Minutes later, he reappears, this time wearing the dark brown apron and white shirt of the Caffeine Lab.

Taehyung considers strolling in, playing the part of the casual customer who just happened to end up here. He could order something, talk to him a little, maybe start building the bridge he’s here to build for Minji.

But then he sees who’s standing behind the counter alongside Jeongguk.

Yeji.

Taehyung almost laughs. He and Yeji share a class,they’re not best friends, but they’re friendly enough. 

And just like that, an idea blooms in his mind.

And he knows it is going to work so well.

The next afternoon, Taehyung is behind the counter at Caffeine Lab, working Yeji’s shift like it’s his own.

Yesterday when she was leaving the cafe, he had made sure to “accidentally” bump into her. From there, it had been easy, he had launched into casual conversation, marveling at how she managed to juggle a cafe job and a full class schedule. Then, with just the right amount of guilt in his voice, he told her he wanted to do something nice for her. Offered to work her next shift.

Yeji had stared at him like he had just descended from the heavens, her eyes practically heart shaped. “You are a literal angel on earth” she had said, clasping her hands dramatically.

And now here he is, standing behind the counter, struggling with her apron like it’s some ancient riddle. Where the hell do these strings even go? How do you tie them without twisting the whole thing?

The bell over the door jingles.

Taehyung glances up and freezes for a fraction of a second.

Jeongguk stands in the doorway, looking like he has just seen a ghost. His mouth is slightly open, eyes wide, the tips of his ears pink.

Taehyung flashes him a quick, charming smile before returning to the task at hand, wrestling with the stubborn apron strings. He hears the soft thud of footsteps, then the creak of the back room door.

A pause.

“Uh… do you need help with that?”

Taehyung perks up at the sound of his voice. Jeongguk is standing a few feet away, avoiding direct eye contact, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. There is a faint flush across his cheeks, as if speaking up had taken some effort.

“Sure,” Taehyung says easily, glancing down at the tangled fabric in his hands. “This thing feels like solving a puzzle.”

Jeongguk lifts his gaze just enough to take in the situation, his eyes flicking over Taehyung and the way the apron hangs awkwardly around his neck, the fabric twisted in a way that makes it obvious he has no idea what he’s doing. For a moment he simply watches, and then the corner of his lips twitches in a quiet amusement.

“Um… you’ve worn it wrong.”

Taehyung glances down at himself as if only now realizing something might be off, and when he looks back up there’s a low chuckle caught in his throat. Without making a big deal out of it, he pulls the apron up and over his head, the motion easy and careless, before holding it out toward Jeongguk.

“Alright,” he says, the smile still playing at his mouth, “show me the right way then.”

Jeongguk hesitates for the briefest second before stepping forward to take it. He handles the apron carefully, and begins explaining in a soft, measured tone where the head loop is supposed to rest and how the long straps are meant to cross behind the back before being tied at the waist. 

Taehyung listens without interrupting. By the time they finish, Taehyung adjusts the apron properly over his clothes and smooths his hands over the front of it, before looking up again with an easy grin.

“Thanks.”

Jeongguk finally meets his eyes then properly, for the first time that day and a small smile appears, shy but unmistakably real.

“Why don’t you handle the counter,” Jeongguk suggests after a moment, stepping back and putting a little space between them again, “and I’ll make the orders.”

Taehyung tilts his head slightly, studying him with mild curiosity before his lips curve in a teasing smile.

“Is this because I’m new here and you’re trying to give me the easy part?”

The question is light, but it makes Jeongguk pause, like he hadn’t expected to be called out so directly.

“I mean…” he starts, the words coming slower now, “I could teach you.”

Taehyung’s smirk deepens.

“Alright,” he says after a second of consideration, tapping the counter lightly with his fingers. “I’ll take the register for the first half of the shift, and you can take over for the second.”

Jeongguk thinks about it for a beat before giving a small nod.

“Okay.”

Taehyung leans his elbow casually against the counter, posture relaxed.

“Don’t underestimate me, Jeongguk,” he says, his tone playful, “I know how to do shit.”

For a second, Jeongguk simply stares at him, as if he’s still trying to process the fact that Taehyung is talking to him like this, so casually, so easily.

Then his lips curl upward again.

“Sure.”

And this time, the smile stays.

Taehyung realizes working the shift is nothing short of exhausting. The kind of exhaustion that doesn’t make your body ache so much as it frays the edges of your patience. He has been standing for hours, plastering on a polite smile for every customer, offering drink suggestions to a few indecisive ones, wiping down tables that are messy again five minutes later and pretending he doesn’t want to scream every time the espresso machine hisses at him like an angry cat behind him.

Honestly it’s no less than hell. For the first time in a while, he is genuinely grateful for his father’s money because at least he doesn’t have to depend on this for survival.

By the time the lull between orders hits, he leans against the counter, eyes narrowing at the endless string of dockets printing from the till, “Hey Jeongguk,” he calls out over the hiss of steaming milk, “Let me make the orders now, yeah?”

Jeongguk glances over his shoulder. The movement is small, but Taehyung catches it , the slight tug of his lower lip between his teeth, the glint of silver where the light hits his lip ring. He had not noticed that before.

“You sure?” Jeongguk asks.

“Yeah.” 

A small nod, "okay.”

As Jeongguk wipes down the counter, Taehyung watches him from the corner of his eye. “I don’t understand how you and Yeji handle so many customers every day,” he admits, reaching for a cup.

That makes Jeongguk pause mid wipe. He looks up at Taehyung, expression unreadable. “It’s because of you.”

Taehyung blinks, “Huh?”

“All these people....” Jeongguk gestures subtly toward the cafe floor “there’s an extra rush because of you.”

Frowning, Taehyung follows his gaze. A table of three girls sits by the window, their heads tilted together, giggling behind their hands. One of them glances over and Taehyung forces a quick smile in their direction. The reaction is immediate, their giggling intensifies.

He drops his gaze back to the counter. Jeongguk notices too. He presses his lips together, something unreadable flickering across his face, before stepping back behind the counter beside him.

“I don’t think so,” Taehyung says after a moment, still doubtful. “How would they even know I am working a shift here?”

Jeongguk shrugs, “Probably someone saw you and told the others.”

Taehyung lets out an awkward chuckle, “Um....I’m sorry I guess. You have to work extra hard now.”

Jeongguk’s mouth quirks faintly. “Extra business, more tips, it’s not too bad.”

“Right.” Taehyung says, returning the smile, though a little slower this time.

By the time their shift draws to a close, the café has fallen into that quiet, hollow stillness that always settles after the last customer leaves. Taehyung is bent slightly over the mop, dragging it across the floor in long, steady strokes, the faint scent of cleaning solution rising as the damp fibers glide over the tiles. The repetitive motion is almost soothing, and for a moment he focuses only on the slow rhythm until the sound of the back door creaking open pulls his attention away.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Jeongguk step back inside, the muffled thud of the trash bin lid falling shut echoing faintly from the alley behind him.

The night air follows him in for a second before the door clicks closed again, leaving the café warm and dim beneath the overhead lights.

Jeongguk pauses near the counter instead of walking past, his movements hesitant, like he’s unsure whether to interrupt. His hands slide awkwardly into the pockets of his apron as he stands there, shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other while watching Taehyung work.

For a while he doesn’t say anything.

Then, quietly–

“Do… do you want me to do it?”

His voice carries that same softness Taehyung has noticed all day, as though every sentence is something he’s carefully testing before letting it out.

Taehyung pauses just long enough to dip the mop back into the bucket, the wheels squeaking faintly as he pulls it closer.

He swallows down the immediate urge to snap.

Ever since the shift started, Jeongguk has been hovering around him in this strange, careful way  offering help, watching what he’s doing, stepping in before Taehyung even has the chance to ask. It isn’t aggressive or rude, but the constant attention makes it feel like Jeongguk expects him to mess something up at any moment.

And it’s starting to get under his skin.

“Nah, I’m good,” Taehyung says instead, forcing an easy smile as he pushes the mop forward again. “I’ve got it.”

Jeongguk nods quickly, like he doesn’t want to push the issue.

The only sounds left are the faint squeak of the mop against the tiles and the soft hum of the refrigerator behind the counter.

Taehyung can feel Jeongguk’s presence even without looking at him.

Jeongguk is… jittery. A little too eager to help, a little too quick to apologize, shy in a way that makes him seem almost painfully harmless. The kind of person who instinctively bends around other people’s moods, who tries too hard to make things easier for everyone else.

Distracting someone like that will be easy.

Probably easier than Taehyung had expected.

Still… there’s a faint flicker of guilt that stirs somewhere in his chest, quiet but persistent.

It’s not like he’s planning to ruin Jeongguk’s life.

He just wants Minji to do better in class. That’s all this is.

And it’s temporary, three months, maybe less.

He isn’t going to sabotage Jeongguk outright, isn’t going to go out of his way to make him fail.

He just… won’t make it easier for him to succeed.

“Taehyung… hyung… ” Jeongguk says suddenly.

Taehyung looks up, mildly startled. Jeongguk’s never called him by his name before, let alone hyung. It’s strangely familiar for someone he’s only spent a few hours working with. Though, considering they have hung out with Jimin a few times, maybe it makes sense.

“Yeah?”

“Um... why did you work Yeji’s shift?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away and Jeongguk’s eyes widen like he has overstepped. “Uh... you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—”

“Yeji looked tired after work,” Taehyung says simply, cutting him off. “I thought it might help if I took the shift today.”

Jeongguk blinks, then his expression softens into a smile that seems to warm his whole face. “That’s... that’s sweet of you, hyung.”

Taehyung has to glance away, focusing on a stubborn smudge on the floor. “Um yeah.”

“I hope everyone gets a friend like you.”

The words make Taehyung freeze for a second. He has to grit his teeth because yes, his motive for taking the shift was different but the outcome was the same. Yeji got her rest. The fact that Jeongguk believes it was purely out of kindness shouldn’t bother him, and yet it does.

They fall into a quiet rhythm again until the next song kicks in from the cafe speakers, his playlist, connected to his phone.

There’s a sharp intake of breath behind him. “I love Bloodwitch.”

Taehyung startles, glancing up. Jeongguk’s eyes are wide, his smile brighter than anything Taehyung’s seen all day. The excitement is so genuine that Taehyung can’t help but smile back. “Yeah? They’re cool, right?”

Jeongguk nods quickly, almost too quickly.

A chuckle escapes Taehyung. “Too bad they disbanded.”

“Yeah... ” Jeongguk’s shoulders drop and his lips push into a small pout.

“You know,” Jeongguk says after a pause, glancing down almost shyly, “on my birthday last year, Yoongi hyung somehow got his hands on their unreleased tracks like, actual recordings and put them on a CD for me.”

“No way,” Taehyung says, genuinely impressed, “That’s awesome.”

It strikes him then that Jeongguk and Yoongi must be closer than he thought.

“I could lend you the CD,” Jeongguk offers suddenly, “You can listen to it and give it back.”

Taehyung pauses, “What if I get greedy and don’t want to return it?”

The smile slips from Jeongguk’s face for a moment and he seems to genuinely consider it before saying, “It’s okay. I’ve listened to it so many times, I’ve got it memorized.”

“I was joking, ”Taehyung laughs, shaking his head, ”But thanks. Yeah maybe I’ll listen to it a couple of times and return it. That work?”

Jeongguk straightens, that sweet smile returning in full force and nods.

Taehyung smiles back, this time without thinking about it. For all his plans, he can’t deny there’s something genuinely easy about being around Jeongguk.

Taehyung stands in front of the heavy mahogany door. His eyes linger on the polished surface, the faint reflection of himself staring back. This is it. If he tells Minji he is going to do it there is no taking it back.

His mind flickers to the shift he worked with Jeongguk, the easy small talk, the moments that were......almost pleasant. Sure, Jeongguk hovered too much, sometimes stared a little longer than necessary but it hadn’t been unbearable. In fact, Taehyung had survived it just fine.

He exhales slowly and raises his hand, knocking.

The door swings open to reveal Minji looking worn thin. Her dark circles are stark against her skin and her hair is scraped into a messy bun like she hasn’t had the energy to care.

“Can I come in?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah.” She steps aside and he slips past her.

Inside, the warm glow of a desk lamp casts soft shadows over scattered sheets of tracing paper and foam board cutouts. The table is crowded with rulers and tiny scraps of cardboard, architecture materials littering both the surface and the floor. A gentle, almost melancholic song hums quietly from a speaker in the corner.

“Working on the project?” 

Minji just shrugs but Taehyung catches the heaviness in the movement. Something twists in his chest. She looks exhausted,.too young to be carrying that much stress in her posture, in the slump of her shoulders. The last bit of doubt he has been holding onto dissolves in an instant.

“Minji-yah,” he says softly, stepping forward and resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

The change in her is immediate. Relief floods her expression before she even moves, then she is in his arms, hugging him tightly, her face pressed against his shoulder.

Taehyung wraps her up just as firmly. He knows it’s unfair to Jeongguk. He knows what he is about to do isn’t right.

But right now, holding his sister in her moment of need, he doesn’t care.

The cafeteria is its usual midday chaos, trays clattering against tabletops, chairs scraping loudly across the floor, and dozens of conversations colliding in the air until the whole room hums with restless noise. Taehyung sits wedged between two of his friends from his econ elective, half paying attention as they pick apart the latest piece of campus gossip with the kind of enthusiasm people reserve for things that don’t actually matter.

“Nah man, I’m telling you,” Hyunwoo says, leaning forward across the table like he’s about to disclose classified information. “Mrs. Choi and Jay definitely had a thing.”

A few people immediately perk up.

“I remember how they used to flirt in class,” someone adds, snapping their fingers like the memory just came back to them. “But now it’s all awkward. They probably broke up or something.”

“And Jay always scored ridiculously high in her class,” another voice cuts in with a snort. “Even though he’s dumb as hell.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but tears off another bite of his sandwich anyway, chewing slowly as the conversation spirals further into speculation. The whole thing is ridiculous, but it’s also the perfect way to kill time between lectures without thinking too hard about anything.

“Man, but Mrs. Choi is fine,” Hyunwoo says after a moment, shaking his head in exaggerated admiration. “We can’t deny that shit.”

“Having a relationship with your professor is a whole different level of desperate,” Taehyung replies around a mouthful of food, his tone lazy but certain. “Doesn’t matter if they’re hot.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Nari mutters, leaning back in her chair with a grimace. “There are literally thousands of students on campus and you want to fuck the professor?”

“Honestly it would make sense if he did it just to pass her class,” someone else laughs.

Taehyung is about to nod in agreement because, yeah, that does sound plausible, when a shadow falls across the table.

He looks up.

And freezes.

Because Jeon Jeongguk is standing there, slightly out of breath like he’s been walking fast across campus, clutching a slim CD case in both hands as carefully as if it might break.

For a split second Taehyung’s brain just blanks.

What the hell is he doing here?

The atmosphere around the table changes instantly. The chatter dies down mid-sentence, curiosity sharpening the silence as Taehyung’s friends glance between him and Jeongguk like they’ve just stumbled onto the beginning of a very interesting story.

But Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice any of them.

His gaze is fixed entirely on Taehyung.

“Hey,” he says softly, the word almost shy.

Taehyung blinks, suddenly aware of every pair of eyes watching him. The weight of their attention prickles uncomfortably along the back of his neck.

“What—” he straightens in his chair, his voice coming out sharper than he intended, “what are you doing here?”

The faint smile on Jeongguk’s face falters.

It’s like he’s only just realized there are other people sitting at the table. His eyes flicker across the unfamiliar faces before dropping down toward the floor.

“Um…” He bites his lower lip, hesitating. “I just… I wanted to give you this.”

He holds out the CD.

The plastic catches a strip of light from the overhead lamps, reflecting briefly across the table.

Taehyung stares at it, his brain scrambling to piece together what’s happening.

A CD? What–

A snicker slices cleanly through the moment.

“What’s going on, Kim?” someone says. “We didn’t know you and Jeongguk were friends.”

Hyunwoo’s smirk is wide and obnoxious, and the look on his face makes something hot and irritated twist in Taehyung’s chest.

For a second he considers telling him to shut the hell up.

Instead he forces out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck like the whole situation is nothing more than a harmless misunderstanding.

“We… uh…” he gestures vaguely between them. “We’re just acquaintances.”

The word feels heavier than he expects.

When Taehyung glances back at Jeongguk, the shift is immediate.

Something flashes across Jeongguk’s face, hurt, quick and sharp enough that Taehyung almost doubts he really saw it but it’s gone just as fast. Jeongguk’s gaze drops to his shoes like they’ve suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.

“Oh?” someone else pipes up with a teasing grin. “Is that what people are calling hanging out these days?”

A ripple of giggles moves through the group.

“Shut up, guys,” Taehyung snaps, irritation bleeding into his voice before he can stop it.

The laughter falters.

“Uh… I think I’ll find you later.”

Jeongguk’s voice is so quiet Taehyung nearly misses it.

His fingers tighten slightly around the CD case, the plastic creaking softly under the pressure. He still doesn’t look at Taehyung as he turns away, slipping back into the tide of students moving through the cafeteria until he disappears into the noise and bodies.

For a moment Taehyung just sits there, staring at the space where he was standing.

Then Hyunwoo lets out a low whistle.

“You’re hanging out with Jeongguk? Seriously?” he says, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t know you liked getting your—”

“Hyunwoo.”

Taehyung’s voice is flat.

Sharp enough that it cuts the sentence clean in half.

He leans forward slightly across the table, just enough to make the point land.

“The only reason you even know half the gossip on campus is because you’ve never done anything worth talking about yourself,” he says calmly. “So maybe shut up before I start listing all the people you’ve been trying and failing to hook up with.”

Hyunwoo’s smug grin disappears instantly.

A small, satisfied warmth settles low in Taehyung’s chest.

Without bothering to say anything else, he pushes back his chair, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks away from the table.

It isn’t until he’s sitting in his next class, halfway through a lecture he hasn’t been listening to at all that the realization hits him.

The CD Jeongguk brought him.

Those were the unreleased Bloodwitch tracks.

The ones he had completely forgotten about.

Taehyung knows he has fucked up. Like, really fucked up.

He has not seen Jeongguk since that afternoon in the cafeteria and the longer the silence stretches, the heavier it sits in his chest. This was supposed to be the time he started getting closer to Jeongguk, getting to know him better, working the plan. Instead he has already ruined it.

And now, every time he imagines seeing Jeongguk again, his mind spins uselessly. What the hell is he even supposed to say? Hey can we not talk on campus but let’s be best bros outside? Yeah, that would definitely earn him a slap, even from someone as calm and collected as Jeongguk.

The time does come though. On a Friday night, of all nights, when Taehyung makes a lazy run to the convenience store down the street from his apartment.

He usually stays at the place his father bought for him, a clean little apartment closer to campus. He had pitched it as practical, less commuting, more focus on classes but really, he just wanted space. Freedom from the constant scrutiny of living under the same roof as his father. Minji though, still stays at their father’s house. Sometimes he envies her patience.

Taehyung pushes into the store, the neon hum bright against the quiet night. He grabs a ramen cup and a gimbap without thinking, heading toward the counter, only to stop dead.

Jeongguk is there. Behind the register. Head bent over a notebook, pen moving fast, probably scribbling through an assignment.

Taehyung’s first instinct is to turn around and walk straight out. Maybe run. But before he can move, Jeongguk looks up.

Their eyes meet. For a long, suspended second, neither of them blinks.

Taehyung exhales slowly and forces his feet forward. The sound of his steps feels too loud. When he finally reaches the counter, Jeongguk drops his pen and closes the book, sitting up straighter.

Taehyung sets his food down, lips twitching into a small, almost apologetic smile. He braces himself for indifference, maybe even coldness. But instead Jeongguk smiles back. Soft. Polite.

It makes Taehyung’s stomach twist.

Jeongguk scans the items, the beep of the register cutting through the silence. Taehyung swallows, wondering if this is the right time, if it is too soon, if he should just shut up and walk away. But the guilt gnaws at him.

“About the other day…” Taehyung starts, voice rougher than he intends.

Jeongguk’s head snaps up, eyes wide, shining in the harsh convenience store light. They are so open, so startlingly clear, that Taehyung’s breath catches. He hasn’t seen eyes like that in a long time.

“I wanted to apologize,” he says quickly, stumbling over the words. “I was just... surprised to see you and it came out wrong. It was rude.”

“It’s okay,” Jeongguk interrupts gently. He shrugs like it’s nothing. “I understand.”

Taehyung blinks, caught off guard.

Jeongguk gives a small, almost self deprecating smile. “It was rude of me, honestly. Just walking in like that. I didn’t think... it must have been awkward.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, closes it again. He hadn’t expected this. If it were anyone else, they would be furious. They would have cursed him out, told him to fuck off, maybe never spoken to him again.

But Jeongguk? Jeongguk is forgiving. 

And somehow that makes Taehyung feel worse.

“I... ” Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, heat crawling up his skin. “No, it was still wrong. And the rest probably made it even more weird. You... ” his words stumble, awkward, “they shouldn’t have made you feel so out of place.”

Jeongguk drops the scanner with a soft clatter and pushes the items toward him.

“I mean it was a little awkward.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “But I get why it was like that.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t feel awkward again,” Taehyung blurts before he can stop himself.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, startled and then his face breaks into a genuine smile. He nods. “Thanks hyung.”

Taehyung can’t help but smile back, the tension in his chest easing just a fraction.

“And the CD, you left before I could take it,” he says.

Jeongguk’s eyes go round. “Yes... just wait a minute.” He turns quickly, rummaging through his bag. After a few seconds, he pulls out the CD case and holds it out like it’s something precious.

Their fingers brush when Taehyung takes it and it sends an odd jolt up his arm. “Thanks. I’ll listen and return it after a few plays.”

Jeongguk shrugs lightly. “Return it any time. I would’ve told you to keep it, but...  since it was a gift from Yoongi hyung, that would feel unfair.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, smiling faintly.

He pays and gathers his food but when he looks up, Jeongguk is staring at him. Not in a confrontational way, more like he’s carrying something heavy he isn’t sure he should say.

“I wanted to give you the CD a long time ago,” Jeongguk admits quietly. “But I think you didn’t remember.”

“Huh?” Taehyung frowns.

“It was at a party. We were talking about our favorite bands and I promised I’d get you this. But... you were drunk so you probably forgot.”

“Oh.” Taehyung blinks, “I guess.”

“Yeah.” Jeongguk rubs at the back of his neck,  “We didn’t really talk after that. I brought it up once but you looked confused so I let it go. So... I’m glad I could give it to you now.”

“Right... ” Taehyung’s throat tightens. He realizes Jeongguk and he have crossed paths more than once, and he’s simply...  never remembered. Because back then, Jeongguk wasn’t important. Not like he is now, though for reasons Taehyung hates admitting to himself.

He lifts the CD slightly, forcing a smile. “Well, I somehow got it now, so, it was meant to be, yeah?”

Jeongguk giggles, and the sound softens something in Taehyung’s chest, “Yeah.”

They share a smile but the moment is cut short when the bell above the door jingles and someone else walks in.

Taehyung clears his throat, “How many jobs do you have?”

Jeongguk looks down, teeth catching his lip. “Two.”

“When does your shift end?”

“Three am.”

Taehyung’s brows knit, “That’s late. When do you even sleep?”

“Um... I get three, maybe four hours.”

Taehyung frowns deeper. He can’t imagine functioning like that. He needs eight hours just to think straight. He wonders if it’s money, if Jeongguk’s family struggles but he doesn’t ask. What if Jeongguk has already told him once and he’s just forgotten again?

“That’s unhealthy, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk just shrugs. “I have to.” And before Taehyung can push, he smoothly changes the subject. “It’s pretty late. When will you go to bed?”

“Uh... after a while.”

“Okay. Don’t you have an early class tomorrow?”

Taehyung blinks. He hadn’t expected Jeongguk to know his schedule. “Yeah.”

“Then you should go.” Jeongguk’s smile is small but warm. “Rest up.”

Taehyung hesitates, reading between the lines. Jeongguk doesn’t want to talk about why he works two jobs. So he lets it go.

“Okay then I’ll get going.”

Jeongguk nods but his gaze lingers, uncertain. “Hyung... are we good? That... that means we won’t stop talking, right?” His voice drops and his eyes flicker down like he is afraid the answer is no. Like he’s bracing for Taehyung to say this was the goodbye.

“Of course we won’t,” Taehyung says quickly, too quickly. He tries to soften it. “We are friends.”

Jeongguk looks up, surprised and then he smiles. “Yeah... friends.”

Taehyung smiles back, but it falters almost instantly. The word “friends” tastes heavy on his tongue, bitter in his mouth. He just knows this isn’t going to end well. And yet, he can’t stop himself.

So he turns, CD in hand and walks out into the night.

Chapter Text

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes locked on the mirror. One stubborn strand refuses to fall into place no matter how many times he smooths it down. With a groan, he snatches the hairspray again, spraying his hair before catching sight of the same imperfection.

“Let me do it.”

His gaze shifts in the mirror. Minji stands behind him in a black cocktail dress, one hand already extended, her expression calm but certain.

He exhales, shoulders dropping in defeat and passes her the can. Minji steps closer, fingers deft as they comb through his hair, rearranging the stray pieces with more patience than he ever manages for himself.

“So…” she begins, eyes still on his reflection, “are you trying to get close to Jeongguk?”

Taehyung meets her gaze in the mirror. She looks away quickly, he notices the extra blush on her cheeks and a shimmer of lipstick she doesn't usually wear.

“Yeah,” he says at last. “We have interacted a few times recently.”

Minji finally looks at him, curiosity lighting her eyes. “And how is that going? What is he like?”

“He is... normal?”

Her face twists in disbelief and Taehyung lets out a scoff.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Something more than ‘he is normal,’ obviously.”

He sighs, rolling his shoulders. “He is shy and....” The words trail off. He doesn’t really have much else. What is there to say about Jeongguk? He is just a guy, quiet, shy and probably a little nerdy. Still Taehyung can’t shake the question that nags at him, why doesn’t Jeongguk have any friends? He looks like anyone else, talks like anyone else, but people keep their distance.

Minji lets out a sigh, “Don’t overthink it. Just keep him busy. That’s all I want.”

“Minji-yah” Taehyung says, narrowing his eyes, “do you really want me to do this just because you want to do better than him in class... or is there something more to it?”

She pauses, then smiles a little too quickly. “What more could it be?”

“You know you can tell me anything.” His voice softens.

“Of course.” She gives him a tight smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Taehyung studies her face in the mirror, the way her lips press together, the faint tension in her hand as it smooths down his hair. The question slips out before he can stop it.

“Are you seeing someone?”

Minji’s fingers pause for the briefest moment before she continues, “No.”

Her reply is clipped, almost too quick.

“Have a crush on someone?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She arches a brow,  “What do you mean why not?”

Taehyung shrugs, mouth twitching. “It just seems impossible at your age.”

“That’s only two years younger than you, Taehyung.”

“Yeah and I have crushes. I hook up with people.”

“Not everyone needs that,” Minji mutters, rolling her eyes.

Maybe that’s the reason he keeps pressing. Maybe that flicker of annoyance in her voice is the confirmation of the suspicion that has been needling him for days, that something about her is off.

“Fair” he says, “but you’re beautiful. And there are other beautiful people at uni. So why not?”

“Don’t you think you’re pushing it?”

From downstairs, the sound of conversation drifts upward. Their father often has business partners or friends over to play pool so Taehyung doesnt pay any mind to it. He only came home after classes today because Minji insisted they go to this party together. He doesn’t know who is hosting or why people are gathering on a wednesday night of all times but he figures it’s as good an excuse as any to loosen up.

“Sorry,” he says at last, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean to interrogate you. Just curious about my sister.”

“Well, what about you then?”

“Me?” He points at himself.

“Yeah.”

He gives a half shrug. “You know I don’t want anything serious right now.”

“and that's the reason you’re sleeping with half the uni?”

“Hey.” He points back at her, half laughing, half offended. “You know those are just rumors. Yeah I hook up but people love to exaggerate.”

Minji giggles and Taehyung joins her, the sound easy and unguarded until it cuts off abruptly. His breath stalls.

No. He can’t possibly have heard that.

Minji notices the change in his expression and stills, her own laughter dying out. She tilts her head, listening. And then her eyes widen, mirroring his.

They both hear it.

Without a word, they move, slipping out of the room and leaning over the staircase, straining to catch the voice drifting up from below.

“What is he doing here?” Taehyung breathes, his voice barely audible.

Minji doesn’t reply.

The next thing he knows, his fingers are closing around her hand, tugging her toward the stairs, “Let’s get out of here.”

They descend quickly, Taehyung keeping his head down, as if avoiding eye contact might erase the presence he already feels burning in the back of his mind. But when they reach the bottom, instinct betrays him. His eyes lift, just for a second and land on the living room.

On him.

Namjoon.

It has been three years since Taehyung last saw his brother and yet he recognizes him instantly. The details are different, glasses perched on his face, hair styled in a way he doesn’t remember but the presence is the same.

Before he can notice more, Taehyung is already moving again, ushering Minji toward the door. He doesn’t allow himself to stop. Only when his hand meets the doorknob does he risk one last glance over his shoulder.

For the briefest moment, Namjoon’s gaze collides with his own before Taehyung slips out into the night.

The party is twenty minutes away in the kind of neighborhood where houses are large and classy. Taehyung parks in an alley, the car’s headlights cutting against the stone walls before dimming.

The air outside is cold, sharp enough to bite. He shivers and pulls his jacket tighter around himself. Minji rubs her arms because of the chill and without a word, Taehyung pulls a heat pack from his pocket, pressing it into her palm. She mutters a quiet “thank you,” her breath misting in the night.

But his mind isn’t on the cold. It’s still trapped in the living room he left behind.

On Namjoon.

What is he doing there? How long is he staying? 

“Did you know he was coming back?” he asks quietly.

Minji doesn’t answer. 

By the time they reach the party house, the music is already bleeding into the street. Disco lights flash against the walls, spilling out onto the pavement. People linger outside, cigarettes glowing in the dark, laughter carrying over the heavy thrum of bass.

Inside, the chaos swallows him whole. Someone presses a drink into his hand before he even has time to adjust. Greetings blur together, faces, names, too many smiles that mean nothing. Minji is swept away by her friends and Taehyung drifts until he finds a few familiar ones of his own.

“Yo Kim in the house baby!” Hyunwoo hollers, already a little glassy eyed, a drink sloshing in his hand.

You would expect Hyunwoo to be bitter, maybe even avoidant after the cafeteria incident. But Hyunwoo’s never been one to hold grudges when parties and convenience are involved. He likes having access to Taehyung’s house, his drinks, his friendship. Cutting ties with him would be a loss to Hyunwoo.

Taehyung forces a smile, settling into a spot beside Nari. He takes a sip from his cup, grimacing immediately. He hates alcohol, the sharp burn and the bitterness of it but sometimes it’s worth enduring if it means feeling a faint buzz beneath his skin.

“Didn’t Jimin and Hoseok come?” Nari asks, adjusting the strap of her dress.

Taehyung shrugs. “Jimin’s buried under assignments. Hoseok...” He trails off.

Truth is, he has no idea. Probably with Yoongi. Again.

A sour edge curls in his chest at the thought. He tries not to think too much but it’s hard to ignore how Hoseok has been spending less time with him and Jimin. How suddenly Yoongi seems to know every detail of Hoseok’s life. Maybe it’s stupid but part of him feels left behind. He could just text Hoseok, he knows that. But his pride keeps his phone in his pocket.

“Let’s play beer pong.” someone suggests, the idea quickly catching on.

Taehyung waves it off, sinking deeper into the couch. His mood’s already off, he can’t tell if it’s because of Namjoon, Hoseok or both.

He exhales, letting his eyes wander the room. Laughter rises in bursts, people sway and stumblr to music, drinks spill, conversations overlap. And then his gaze catches on someone standing alone.

Wait. Is that...

Jeongguk.

He is pressed against the corner like he doesn’t belong, oversized clothes hanging off his frame, a red cup clutched in his hand. His wide eyes dart nervously over the crowd, uncertain like he is not sure if he is supposed to be mimicking everyone else or simply vanish into the wall.

He lifts his cup, takes a sip and immediately grimaces, tongue poking out in disgust. His lip ring glints under the low light as he frowns.

Taehyung almost laughs.

For a while, he just watches. Jeongguk’s awkwardness is almost painful. Shifting on his feet, pretending not to notice he is alone. Once he gathers himself and starts toward a group, hovering a few feet away as if working up the courage to step in. But then he exhales, shoulders falling and retreats back to his lonely corner.

It’s... sad, Taehyung thinks. Pathetic, maybe but also sad. Part of him wants to get up, to walk over, maybe offer Jeongguk a word, a smile, some kind of company. But he doesn’t. Staying put is easier. 

He wonders why Jeongguk even came. Who he came with. The answer comes quickly enough when he spots Hoseok across the room, laughing with Yoongi, the two of them orbiting each other in that easy way they have picked up recently.

Jeongguk must be with them.

Bitterness creeps up his throat. Hoseok can make time for Yoongi, bring Jeongguk along, even but not for him? For Jimin? Taehyung considers confronting him, striding over and saying something, anything but the thought fizzles before it sparks. Instead, he tips his head back, finishes the rest of his drink in one go, and lets the burn distract him.

He stays on the couch for the rest of the night, the weight of everything pressing heavy against his chest.

Sometimes you know you shouldn’t be doing something. something that will definitely be bad for you but you still do it anyway. That’s exactly how Taehyung would describe going out on a Wednesday night. The consequence is written all over his pounding head as he rushes across campus, late to class and cursing himself under his breath.

His psychology lecture is one he misses most of the time. It’s early and dragging himself out of bed has always felt impossible. But today the guilt wins, he has already missed too many sessions. He forces himself through the door just after the professor arrives, slipping into the back row and collapsing into the first empty seat he can find.

He closes his eyes, sighing. His head throbs so hard he swears he can hear his own pulse. Fuck. He wishes he could have stayed in bed.

“You okay?”

The voice makes him jolt so hard he nearly tumbles out of his chair. No way. No way he just imagined Jeongguk’s voice.

But when he turns, it’s him.

Jeongguk sits right there, a notebook already open in front of him, dark hair falling into his eyes as he looks up, sheepish.

“I’m sorry” Jeongguk says quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Yeah…” Taehyung replies dumbly, still staring. He clears his throat, trying to gather himself, “It’s fine. I just… didn’t notice you.”

Jeongguk only shrugs, like he is used to going unnoticed, like it doesn’t bother him anymore.

“I had a rough night” Taehyung admits with a forced smile, leaning back in his chair.

“Guess none of us should have gone partying on a wednesday night,” Jeongguk says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking.

Taehyung chuckles, “You were at the party too?”

Of course he knows he was. He saw him but still, he asks. He wants Jeongguk to think he didn’t ignore him on purpose.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk bites his lip, lowering his head as his pen scribbles across the page. Taehyung glances down and catches sight of the doodle, a small, lopsided dog.

“Um…I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispers.

That gets Taehyung’s attention, “Huh?”

“I saw you at the party.”

“Oh,” Taehyung blinks. “Why didn’t you come say hi?”

Jeongguk freezes mid doodle, then looks up with wide eyes, “You were with your friends.”

The unspoken words hang heavy between them. Taehyung knows exactly what he means. 

“You’re my friend too,” Taehyung says, managing a small smile.

Jeongguk stares at him for a long moment. Then slowly his expression melts into something so bright and genuine that it almost hurts to look at like Taehyung has just handed him a gift he never expected.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk whispers. “I guess… I guess I’ll come say hi next time.”

Please don’t, Taehyung thinks but he forces a tight smile. “Sure.”

At the front, the professor launches into the lecture, words about research and project deadlines filling the room. Taehyung tries to focus but Jeongguk’s voice pulls him back.

“I don’t usually go to parties,” he says quietly.

Taehyung glances at him again. “Why not?”

“I just… don’t like them.” Jeongguk shrugs, eyes fixed on his notebook. “Crowded places, too much noise… it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Then why did you come yesterday?”

For a while, Jeongguk doesn’t answer. Taehyung is almost convinced he won’t, when finally…

“Yoongi hyung convinced me.”

“So you and Yoongi came together?”

“Yeah… and Hobi hyung.”

Hobi hyung.

Taehyung’s jaw tightens before he can stop it. Hoseok has been his “Hobi” since he was eighteen. And now Jeongguk who is probably known him for a few months gets to call him that too?

“You close with him?” Taehyung asks carefully.

“I… I guess.” Jeongguk shifts in his seat. “Hobi hyung is really nice. He makes it easy to be around him and Yoongi hyung likes him too so… ” he trails off with a shrug.

“That’s nice,” Taehyung murmurs, though the words taste sour on his tongue.

“Hobi hyung talks a lot about you and Jimin hyung,” Jeongguk adds with a small smile.

Before Taehyung can reply, the professor cuts in, “Alright now I want you all to pair up for the project.”

Chairs scrape. Students glance around. Taehyung catches more than a few expectant looks directed his way, people clearly hoping he’ll choose them. He is used to that, the quiet competition for his attention.

When he turns toward Jeongguk, though,  he finds him doing the opposite, fiddling with the corner of his notebook, teeth worrying his lower lip. Taehyung recognizes the habit now. Jeongguk does it when he is nervous.

Professor Lee continues, pacing the front of the lecture hall. “Like I have been saying, this project is about understanding how individuals are shaped by their environments, particularly family and cultural context. You and your partner will explore and analyze family influence, communication, relationships.”

A voice from the back breaks in. “So… you want us to spend time with each other’s families?”

The professor shrugs, unbothered. “At least one visit yes. Share the experience and reflect on how background and environment translate into personal behavior.”

Taehyung frowns. This feels far too personal for a university assignment. Inviting a stranger into something so intimate makes his skin itch. He imagines Jeongguk or worse, someone else sitting at his family table, dissecting his life, his relationship with his father. The thought alone makes him want to drop the class entirely.

But he can’t, failure isn’t an option. Not with the kind of pressure that comes from being a Kim. Not when his father has made it very clear, no wasted credits, no detours, no mistakes and this class isn’t just some elective he picked on a whim, it’s the last psychology credit he needs.

Across the room, Jeongguk suddenly stiffens. His eyes widen, darting toward the professor as if he has seen a ghost.

“Professor,” someone says “isn’t this too personal? A lot of people are private and what if someone’s family situation is… kind of shitty?”

The room hums with murmurs of agreement.

Professor Lee nods, folding his arms. “First of all language and secondly yes that’s a fair concern. Family is personal and not everyone is comfortable sharing but that’s precisely why this project matters. Psychology isn’t just about theories in a textbook. It’s about people. Sometimes, it’s about learning to see the world from someone else’s perspective, even if that world looks very different from your own.”

Taehyung fights the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly it sounds like bullshit. 

The professor softens his tone. “Now if your situation is complicated, you are not required to expose private details you don’t want to share. What matters is the experience. Invite your partner into whatever part of your life you are comfortable with. Maybe it is a family dinner, maybe a night with close friends, maybe time with the people you do consider family, blood or not.”

Taehyung leans back in his seat, drumming his fingers against the desk. Maybe this doesn’t have to be a disaster. Maybe he can just take Minji and his project partner out for a nice dinner somewhere neutral then write seven pages about “family dynamics” over dessert. That would count, wouldn’t it?

Professor Lee adds, “The goal is not to judge whose family is better or worse. The goal is to understand how different environments shape different people. And don’t worry, you will have plenty of time for this. The break is included in your schedule. Now, hurry up and choose your partners before you go.”

The room fills with the low hum of voices. Taehyung glances at Jeongguk again, who is still staring down at his notebook, knuckles white around his pen.

Just then, Taehyung straightens in his seat as a thought clicks into place. This could be it, the perfect opportunity. If he partners with Jeongguk, he will have a reason to spend time with him. Jeongguk won’t misunderstand. It’s almost too neat like the universe itself has set this up for him.

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung says, turning toward him.

Jeongguk startles, his shoulders jerking as his eyes widen, “Yeah?”

“Are you partnering with anyone?”

Jeongguk blinks at him, almost as if the answer is obvious, “No” he whispers.

“Well then,” Taehyung says lightly, “wanna do this project together?”

Jeongguk stares at him, lips parting in disbelief. He clearly had not expected Taehyung to ask. Okay maybe Taehyung would have never asked if he wasn't doing the whole "mission : secure the first spot for Minji". Hell he hadn’t even realized they were in the same class until today.

Jeongguk's gaze flickers around the room, to the others still watching Taehyung with quiet hope. “You… you don’t have to, you know.”

“I want to,” 

Jeongguk’s eyes widen again and for a moment, he looks like he doesn’t know what to do with the words. Then his lips twitch, almost a smile, though it falters quickly. “I don’t know if you’d like meeting my family.”

Taehyung shrugs, “I could say the same.”

Jeongguk’s teeth catch on the silver of his lip ring, rolling it between his lips. Taehyung watches the movement, then adds, steady, “Let’s just figure out how to do this project and get it over with. I think it’ll be easier if we partner up because we are friends, right?”

That word makes Jeongguk’s whole face shift. He lights up, bright , like a puppy perking up at its favorite sound. “Yeah Right.”

Taehyung can’t help but smile back. “We will be fine okay? If we do it together.”

Jeongguk nods, the tension leaving his shoulders as a small smile tugs at his mouth. “Okay. Let’s do this then.”

The weekend is supposed to be simple. Taehyung plans to rot away at Jimin’s apartment, maybe play games, maybe just exist but on Friday night, Minji’s message ruins that plan “Father wants you at lunch tomorrow.”

He doesn’t need to ask why. He already knows it’s because Namjoon is back and Junghyung wants to play at being a family again.

Taehyung doesn’t want to go. He never does. But there is no escaping it, not really. So on Saturday afternoon, he drags himself to the Kim mansion.

He arrives deliberately late, past their usual lunch hour, hoping the delay will shorten the torture. He knows he has to show his face but nothing says he has to give them all his time.

When he steps into the dining room, they are already there, his father, Minji, Namjoon. They sit around the long, polished table, plates still empty, food untouched. They’ve been waiting for him.

The air is stiff, the opposite of what a family lunch should feel like. Then again when has it ever been different? Truth is, they stopped being a family after their mother passed away. Maybe they never were.

“You’re late Taehyung.”

Junghyung’s voice slices through the quiet, his gaze stern and unforgiving.

“I’m sorry, Appa. I was just… working on a project.”

Taehyung flicks his eyes toward Namjoon who is watching him. Namjoon’s gaze softens but Taehyung looks away.

Junghyung ignores the excuse, gesturing to the workers to begin serving.

“You could work on it tomorrow. Today you had family lunch on your schedule and you should have respected that. I’ve told you Taehyung, if you can’t manage your time, how will you manage a business in the future?”

Taehyung’s jaw tightens as the worker sets down his plate. His hand clenches around the fork until his knuckles blanch. Nothing is ever enough for his father.

“Namjoon” Junghyung continues smoothly, “you have a lot to teach Taehyung-ah. Take him with you to the office. Show him business.”

Taehyung looks up sharply. Namjoon shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. He takes a slow sip of water before answering.

“Taehyung is still in college, Appa. Maybe we should let him enjoy it while it lasts. These days don’t come back. Once he graduates I can show him everything.”

Junghyung shakes his head. “No, Namjoon-ah. Remember how I used to take you to the company on weekends when you were still at university? We have been too easy on Taehyung. Now that you’re back and staying, it’s time he learns.”

The words stop Taehyung cold. He stares at Namjoon. “You’re… staying?”

Namjoon looks at him guiltily, lips pressing into a thin line, eyes dropping to his food. He doesn’t answer.

Minji frowns, finally speaking up. “Why are you suddenly staying?”

“There are reasons,” Junghyung replies curtly, shutting down the question.

Three years. Namjoon left for America three years ago to “oversee business,” though they all knew he left because he could and because he wanted to.Taehyung and Minji couldn’t leave, no matter how much they wanted to. And now Namjoon decides to come back, to stay. It doesn’t make sense.

“Why hyung?” Taehyung presses, his voice sharper. “Does the business in America not need watching anymore?”

Namjoon’s hand tightens on the stem of his glass but he doesn’t answer.

“Like I said” Junghyung cuts in, “there are reasons. Now let’s eat. It has been too long since we’ve had a family lunch.”

Taehyung lets out a bitter laugh at the word family.

Junghyung’s eyes narrow. “Is something funny Taehyung?”

“Nothing.” Taehyung shrugs, stabbing at his food. “Just… ” his voice drips with sarcasm, “... it’s funny how we sit here pretending. Acting like everything is fine. Acting like we’re a family. When that’s bullshit.”

The silence after is sharp, heavy. Minji’s head snaps toward him, eyes wide. Namjoon stares too, caught between shock and something else. Junghyung’s face turns red, his rage barely contained, the kind of rage Taehyung knows can explode into a slap, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Appa... ” Namjoon starts carefully, but Junghyung raises a hand, silencing him. His glare stays fixed on Taehyung.

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Junghyung says, voice low and dangerous. “This is what happens when you have too much time, when you don’t have to work. Maybe you will understand when I block your credit cards.”

Taehyung doesn’t reply. He only looks back at his father, face blank, grip tight around his fork. Saying more would be a loss and he has already said what he needed to.

The rest of the dinner is nothing but tension. Junghyung asks Minji about her classes, only to remind her that she could have taken medicine instead, his disappointment disguised as fatherly advice. Then the conversation shifts to work, business strategies, market expansions, things Taehyung doesn’t bother to follow. He tunes out, chewing silently, staring at his plate until the meal finally ends.

When the plates are cleared, Minji tugs at his sleeve, her quiet eyes asking him to stay. Taehyung wants to leave, wants to put distance between himself and these walls but he doesn’t. Minji doesn’t want to be alone, and Taehyung… Taehyung isn’t like Namjoon.

So they end up at the poolside, dipping their feet into the cool water. Their reflections breaking and reforming with every movement on the surface of the water. A chill breeze ghosts over Taehyung’s skin, making him shiver.

“Why do you think he is here?” Minji asks softly.

Taehyung watches the water instead of her face. His voice drops into a whisper. “I don’t know.”

Minji hesitates, then admits, “Is it bad that… when I saw his face, I realized how much I missed him?”

Something pulls at Taehyung’s chest, sharp and quiet. Despite everything, the three of them, Namjoon, Minji and Taehyung have always been close. Different, yes but close. Namjoon, steady and mature. Minji, calm and grounding and Taehyung, reckless and untamed. Together, they formed a balance that almost felt like safety once.

“It’s not a bad thing, Minji-yah,” Taehyung murmurs, glancing at her. “It just means we stayed true to ourselves. To our bond.”

They sit in silence, the night stretching around them. The water laps gently at their ankles.

Then Minji breaks it again, her voice fragile. “Even though Namjoon is here… things are still going to be different. It will never be the same, right?”

Taehyung exhales, slowly, swinging his legs through the water. 

“Yeah,” he whispers into the night. “It’ll never be the same.”

Jeongguk:

hey

look at this puppy

[image]

Tuesday

Jeongguk:

hey do you wanna hang out?

Wednesday

Jeongguk:

i was wondering if you would like to meet and discuss about the project

just so we can be prepared

Thursday

Jeongguk:

this message was deleted

this message was deleted

Taehyung stares at the string of messages on his phone, thumb hovering before he finally lets it drop onto the bed beside him. He exhales, long and tired. He has not checked his notifications since Saturday, not after that disaster of a lunch. He has been too drained.

Sometimes it feels like this, like he isn’t in his own body at all. Even replying to someone becomes a task, something heavy, something that requires effort he doesn’t have. Conversations don’t comfort him, they demand from him.

But it’s Friday now and today is a little lighter. He had forced himself to answer Jimin’s texts earlier. Jimin, who always knows when something happens with their father even if Taehyung doesn’t say it out loud. That’s what happens when you’ve known someone for years, Taehyung guesses, you stop needing words.

He picks up his phone again, eyes tracing over Jeongguk’s name. They had exchanged numbers after psychology class and now Taehyung regrets it. He should have just taken Jeongguk’s number and left it at that, told him he’d reach out if needed. That would have been easier, safer.

Instead here he is. Groaning, he pushes himself upright in bed.

His fingers move quickly across the screen

you: hey im sorry for replying late

I was just really busy with classes and other projects but yeah lets meet.

How about tomorrow evening?

Lets meet at the cafe near uni?

The reply comes almost instantly.

Jeongguk:

Thats ok i get it hyung

Yeah lets meet there!!!

The exclamation marks stand out, bright and eager. Against his will, Taehyung feels the corner of his mouth twitch upward. A smile, small and fleeting.

“stop pouting, you big baby. I will pay for the food, okay? Now give me a smile.”

Taehyung sighs, glaring at Hoseok across the table. Hoseok beams at him anyway, though the brightness flickers when Taehyung refuses to soften. For a second, Taehyung almost feels bad but no. He wants Hoseok to know he is mad.

He had not planned this at all. His day was simple in his head,  sit through two classes, then meet Jeongguk like he promised so they could finally discuss the project but then Hoseok appeared on campus acting as if nothing was wrong, wrapping him in a hug and dragging him off to lunch. Only when Taehyung stayed quiet and distant did Hoseok finally realize something was off. Which honestly is shocking because Hoseok hadn’t even known Taehyung was mad at him.

“I’m mad at you,” Taehyung says flatly.

Hoseok’s smile falters. He looks down, fiddling nervously with his phone. “Taehyung-ah… I was just busy. With my own thing, you know.”

“ it felt like you were ignoring me and Jiminie.”

“Well I did talk to Jimin and he seemed fine.”

“Jimin is… Jimin. He doesn’t care about stuff like this.” Taehyung’s voice softens but only slightly. “But I care hyung.”

Hoseok glances up, mischief flickering in his eyes despite the tension. “Is my Taehyungie jealous that I’m spending more time with my other friend?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says without hesitation. “I don’t care if you hang out with Yoongi-hyung but why can’t you hang out with me and Jimin too?”

“Hey, now that’s unfair. You hang out with Hyunwoo and Nari all the time but you don’t see us throwing a fit over it.” Hoseok pouts, his lips jutting out in exaggerated offense.

“Yeah but I don’t go total MIA.”

“Taehyung-ah…” Hoseok leans forward. “Like I said, I was dealing with my own shit and you’re right I should’ve at least left a message.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes. “What do you mean, dealing with your own shit? You mean going partying with Yoongi-hyung and Jeongguk?”

For a moment Hoseok looks genuinely confused. Then realization dawns, followed quickly by guilt. He gives a sheepish little smile, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, of course I don’t ‘deal with my shit’ all the time but since you brought up the party, you were there too?”

“Yes,” Taehyung answers simply, sipping from his drink.

“Then why didn’t you come say hi?” Hoseok shoots back, “You don’t get to be mad at me when you didn’t reach out either.”

Taehyung freezes, caught. Damn it. Hoseok’s right and they both know it.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung mutters finally. “I just thought you didn’t want to talk.”

“Taehyung.” Hoseok’s voice is firm now, all warmth. “I never don’t want to talk to you or Jiminie.”

Taehyung just looks down.

“Next time, if I’m being an asshole, don’t be an asshole too. Okay?”

Taehyung shrugs.

“Now give me that boxy smile.”

And he does because with Hoseok, it’s easier to let go, easier to breathe.

The waitress arrives with more food, setting down plates between them. They shuffle their drinks and make space.

“How’s Yoongi-hyung?” Taehyung asks, more out of curiosity than anything.

Hoseok lights up instantly. “He is so coooool Taehyung.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Jimin wasn’t lying when he said you’re a little Yoongi fanboy.”

“You mean his friend,” Hoseok corrects, but then grins. “But I don’t care if you call me his fanboy.”

“Well, I’m glad you have… Yoongi-hyung too you know.”

Hoseok’s expression softens. “Thanks, he is an amazing person and that’s why…” he straightens, voice carrying excitement again, “ ...I want you and Jiminie to meet him too. So we’re going to the movies this weekend.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, “Movies?”

“Yeah. He’s excited to meet you both to get to know you.”

Taehyung doesn’t really know much about Yoongi except that he always looks grumpy, always has a coffee cup in hand, wears beanies and black clothes like armor. Now that he thinks about it, Yoongi could easily pass as Jeongguk’s brother.

“Okay” Taehyung whispers. If Yoongi is this important to Hoseok then maybe it’s time he tries to know him too.

“Great!” Hoseok beams, “So what are your plans for the rest of the day? Wanna hang out?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to say yes but then he remembers. Jeongguk and their project. 

“Sorry, can’t. I need to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“A… friend.”

Hoseok frowns, “I know all your friends, Taehyung-ah So who is this friend?”

Taehyung chuckles nervously, “Just…  for a project.”

“Are you going to hook up–”

Taehyung nearly chokes.

“–because I’m not going to judge you Taehyung.”

“It’s Jeongguk.”

At that, Hoseok’s jaw drops so dramatically Taehyung almost laughs.

“Jeongguk?”

Taehyung nods.

“You mean Jeon Jeongguk?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck? Since when are you two friends?”

“I don’t understand why it’s surprising. Sometimes we hung out with Jimin, remember?”

“Yeah, but… ”

When Taehyung looks up from his food, Hoseok is staring at him. Studying him closely. 

“What?” Taehyung laughs nervously.

“Taehyung,” Hoseok says softly, smiling just enough to make it sting “Jeongguk is a good kid yeah? He is a little quiet and he has his own shit to deal with so be good to him.”

Taehyung frowns, “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You make me sound like a bully, hyung.”

“That’s not my intention. I’m just… surprised. That you’re suddenly friends, that you’re hanging out with him.”

“Okay and it’s for a project, so?”

“Taehyung.” Hoseok levels him with a look Taehyung knows too well. The kind that says, you could have picked anyone else but there’s a reason you’re doing this with Jeongguk.

And suddenly, Taehyung is angry.

“So what? You care more about me hurting Jeongguk? Is Jeongguk all you care about now?”

“You know that’s not the truth. I’m scared of you getting hurt too, that’s why I’m saying…”

“No, hyung, save it.” Taehyung pushes up from his chair, anger burning through him. He turns to leave but whirls back, words sharp on his tongue. “You know what? The truth is you’re changing. Suddenly Yoongi and Jeongguk are all that matter to you. And that’s fine, me and Jimin, we still care about you but I don’t feel it back from you anymore.”

Hoseok looks at him, sadness etched into his features. “You’re angry so I won’t say anything because whatever I say will sound like a lie.”

“Or maybe it is,” Taehyung spits, before storming off.

He gets into his car and slams the door, chest heaving. He thinks the day can’t possibly get any worse. But then–

A ping.

Minji:

I know why Namjoon is staying.

He’s getting married.

Taehyung feels the same rage he did on the day everything fell apart.

It burns hot and unrelenting, spreading through his chest until all he can see is red. He doesn’t even remember the drive to the Kim mansion only that somehow, through the shaking of his hands on the steering wheel, through the storm in his head, he makes it there.

The moment he pushes past the gates, he doesn’t stop. He storms into the house, striding through the polished halls with the kind of force that makes people flatten against the walls. Maids, servants, everyone turns to watch him, surprised to see him at such an odd hour. Taehyung hardly ever visits anymore. Sometimes on weekends, he comes for Minji. 

“Taehyung-ssi, is something the matter?” Byunchul, their oldest driver, steps forward, brows furrowed in concern. He has been with their family long enough to watch Taehyung grow from a boy into a man.

“Is Appa here?” Taehyung demands.

“No.”

Good. The conversation he’s about to have, his father would never allow it.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

“By the pool. He is working.”

Before Byunchul can say another word, Taehyung is already moving, his footsteps echoing sharply against the marble floors.

“Taehyung, first calm down,” Minji’s voice cuts through the air. She must have seen him rushing in, must have run to catch up. She grabs his arm, pleading, “I didn’t tell you so you could barge in like this. This won’t help.”

But her words slide off him like water. Taehyung doesn’t stop. His hand is already on the door to the pool.

Namjoon looks up when it swings open. He is in casual clothes, glasses perched low on his nose, papers scattered across the table in front of him. For a moment his face softens in surprise.

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung’s lips curl, his voice trembling with fury. “You know I thought you came back because you realized how wrong you were. But I was wrong.”

“What?” Namjoon pushes his glasses up, confusion flickering across his face.

“He knows,” Minji mutters quietly from behind, her voice tight, “About the marriage.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. They snap back to Taehyung.

“You didn’t come back to us,” Taehyung spits. “You came back because you want to get fucking married.”

Namjoon opens his mouth, “Let me explain–”

“They are Korean, aren’t they?” Taehyung’s voice cracks sharp like a whip.

Namjoon doesn’t answer. He only stares.

“Is your future partner fucking Korean?”

A beat. 

Then a quiet “Yes.”

Taehyung throws his head back and laughs, bitter and mocking. 

“But that’s not the only reason I came back,” Namjoon says, his voice pleading.

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung steps closer, eyes blazing. “Then what is it? You wanna teach me business? Show me how much better you are than me?”

“Tae, you know I could never–”

“Don’t call me that!” Taehyung snaps, hand raised.

Namjoon flinches. Still he pushes forward. “Yes, the wedding is one reason and I was wrong before I know that but I want to fix this–”

“You left!” Taehyung’s voice rises, breaking. His chest heaves, breath ragged. “You left when Minji and I needed you the most. When Eomma died, you fucking left us alone. You don’t get to fix anything now.”

The words hang in the air, raw and bleeding. Taehyung feels them burning on his tongue but it isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

“I… ” Namjoon swallows hard, his voice small. “I know. Nothing can change that. I’m not here to fight. I don’t want more distance between us. I know you’re angry, you have every right to be but I’m here to stay now. I will be here. I’m your big brother and–”

“No.” The word slips from Taehyung’s mouth in a whisper.

Namjoon stops.

“You were a bad brother,” Taehyung says, his voice trembling but deadly certain. “You still are.”

Namjoon’s gaze falters.

“You’re here for your wedding not for us. So don’t act like it’s about me or Minji. Don’t pretend. You’re selfish Namjoon. You always were.”

And with that, Taehyung turns on his heel, leaving the poolside behind, leaving Namjoon in silence.

"Where is eomma?"

Panic crashes over Taehyung without warning, sharp and suffocating. His chest tightens, his throat burns. Something is wrong, so wrong that he can hardly breathe.

Junghyung just looks at him, heavy silence pressing down harder than any words could.

"Appa" Taehyung chokes out, his voice trembling. "What’s happening? Tell me where eomma is."

"She is no more."

The words cleave through him and before he can scream, Taehyung jolts awake.

His body lurches forward, his knee slamming into the console. "Fuck," he gasps, clutching at the sharp sting.

It takes a moment to ground himself. He is not at home. He is slumped in the driver’s seat of his car, parked in the middle of nowhere. The night outside is pitch black.

Right. He remembers now, after everything that went down, he just drove. Drove until the city lights disappeared behind him,  until the only company left was silence. He pulled over, cut the engine and sat staring into the void until exhaustion dragged him under.

His throat is parched, scratchy like sandpaper. He fumbles for the water bottle that should be somewhere but his fingers find only empty space. With a groan, he leans back and shuts his eyes.

Where the hell is his phone?

 He shifts around the seat, feeling under the console between the cushions. Finally thank God he finds it lying on the car floor, screen dark.

Silent mode. Of course.

The phone buzzes in his hand before he can even unlock it. Hyunwoo’s name flashes across the screen. He swallows and answers, trying to steady his voice.

"Hey, man we’re going to this new pub that just opened," Hyunwoo says, background noise of laughter spilling through. "Wanna join?"

Taehyung presses his head against the seat, eyes closing. "Um … no. I just had a bad day, so I will pass."

"Oh," Hyunwoo’s voice filters out, distracted, "Alright then, see you later."

The line cuts before Taehyung can even say goodbye.

He exhales slowly, phone slipping against his palm. A part of him one he hates admitting was hoping Hyunwoo would ask. What happened? Are you okay? Do you need me there? But no. Of course not. Nobody ever digs deeper. Nobody cares to.

Unlocking the phone, his chest tightens again. The screen is flooded with missed calls and messages, a dozen or more. Most of them are from one name.

Jeongguk.

Taehyung frowns, confusion flickering for a moment before realization slams into him.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

He was supposed to meet Jeongguk tonight. He forgot.

His thumb hovers as he scrolls through the messages. 

Jeongguk 

[6:00 pm]

I’ve reached! I’m sitting at the booth at the back. If you can’t find me just give me a text or call me.

[6:45 pm]

I guess you’re running late. But that’s alright. Just let me know when you arrive.

[7:15 pm]

Do you want me to order something for you? I got a coffee :)

[8:00 pm]

Hey… I’m getting worried. Can you send me just a text?

[8:30 pm]

Will you come?

[9:00 pm]

I’ll wait, in case you arrive.

Taehyung presses the phone to his forehead, heart sinking. He doesn’t even know what time it is anymore but he knows it’s far too late.

Taehyung groans, dragging a hand down his face. What the fuck is wrong with Jeongguk? He should have left after an hour, two at most, but he’s still waiting. 

Fucking hell.

He exhales, thumb hovering over his screen, ready to type a quick message “go home, Jeongguk” but before he can, the phone dies in his hand.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Taehyung mutters, slamming his head back against the seat. The universe really has it out for him. Of course it does. Jeongguk won’t leave until he’s told and now Taehyung has no choice. He has to go there.

With a curse under his breath, he starts the car and heads toward the cafe.

By the time he arrives, the place is closed. A dim “Closed” sign hangs in the window. It’s almost 9:30. Still there are a few people lingering inside, workers cleaning up, chairs stacked on tables.

Taehyung pushes the door open, ignoring the confused glances thrown his way.

"Hey," he asks quickly, "did you see a boy here? Came around six, big eyes, long hair, tattoos, probably wearing black. Is he still here?"

The workers exchange a look before one of them answers. "Yeah, He left a few minutes ago when we started closing."

Taehyung’s chest tightens. "A few minutes? Give me an exact time."

"Ten minutes maybe."

Ten minutes. He might still catch him. Jeongguk doesn’t have a car he would be heading for the bus stand.

"Thanks," Taehyung says, already turning toward the door.

Behind him, just before the door swings shut, he catches a voice. "Poor guy waited more than three hours."

The words slice through him. His gut twists with guilt.

The bus stop is close enough, so he walks.

When he reaches, Jeongguk is sitting on the bench, head bowed, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. A black beanie pulled low, breath fogging in the cold. He looks small like that. Something in Taehyung’s chest lurches painfully.

Before he can even speak, Jeongguk looks up as if sensing him. Wide, startled eyes lock on his. Taehyung swallows hard and walks closer.

"I… I’m sorry," he whispers, voice cracking.

Jeongguk keeps staring at him, hurt and relief in his gaze. His voice is soft, trembling at the edges. "I was worried. There were no messages, no calls and you didn’t come. I thought… maybe you just didn’t want to.So I came here to leave."

"Yeah," Taehyung murmurs, staring at the ground. "I just… had a bad day and… "

"You forgot."

The bluntness stings.

Taehyung’s throat feels tight. "I’m sorry, Jeongguk."

Jeongguk shrugs, almost defeated. "You could have just replied to my message."

"My phone was on silent," Taehyung says quickly. "And I was… I was just so messed up with my own shit."

Jeongguk nods once, "Okay."

And that’s it. No anger, no scolding. Just quiet acceptance. Taehyung doesn’t understand it. He wants him to be angry, to shout, to curse him for forgetting. That’s what people do. That’s what Jimin did once when he was only an hour late, Jimin didn’t talk to him for a week until Taehyung apologized and paid for sushi.

But Jeongguk just sits there, gentle where he should be furious. Taehyung can’t wrap his head around it.

The bus pulls up to the curb with a hiss and Jeongguk rises, brushing invisible dust from his knees. His shoulders are set, his face unreadable. Without a word, he steps toward the open doors.

Taehyung’s chest tightens.

“Let’s do this later then.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung whispers, though the word tastes bitter.

 I don’t want to be alone.

“Hyung,”

He lifts his head. Jeongguk is lingering by the bench, chewing on his lower lip. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to be alone?”

Taehyung opens his mouth but nothing comes out. His throat burns. After a moment, he shakes his head. “...No.”

Jeongguk nods. “Okay.”

So he doesn’t leave. He just stays, as the bus hisses and rolls away without him.

“Did you have your dinner?” Jeongguk asks next.

Taehyung shakes his head. “No.”

“Well then,” Jeongguk says, rocking back and forth on his heels, “I know the perfect place.” A faint smile tugs at his lips.

They don’t talk after that. Not on the walk back to Taehyung’s car, not as Jeongguk quietly gives him directions. Eventually, Taehyung realizes they are pulling up to a convenience store.

Dinner at a convenience store. He’s never done that before but it’s late and he doesn’t have the energy to complain.

Inside, Jeongguk slips easily into the rhythm of the place, grabbing packets of ramen, asking for cups of ice, moving like he belongs here. Taehyung follows quietly, doing whatever Jeongguk tells him to.

When Taehyung reaches for his wallet, Jeongguk stops him with a small shake of his head. “Let me pay. It’s my treat.”

They settle at a small table pressed against the glass. Jeongguk busies himself making the ramen. He pushes a steaming bowl toward Taehyung and takes the spicy one for himself. 

Taehyung frowns, “How did you know I can’t handle spicy food?”

Jeongguk glances up, shrugs like it’s nothing. “Jimin-hyung mentioned it once.”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t realize how hungry he is until he takes the first bite. The noodles are plain, salty, nothing extraordinary but the taste floods his senses and he nearly moans. If Jeongguk hadn’t dragged him here, he would have gone home and collapsed into bed hungry.

Between bites, he finds himself watching Jeongguk. The way he eats, how his brows furrow when he likes something, how his lips curl into a smile between mouthfuls. Taehyung shouldn’t notice these things but he does.

“You eat here often?” 

Jeongguk pauses mid chew, then swallows. “It’s convenient.”

Taehyung remembers, jeongguk works night shifts at a convenience store, “You have a shift tonight?”

“I do.”

“I’ll drop you there.” It’s the least he can do.

“Thanks hyung.” Jeongguk’s smile is small but warm, and Taehyung feels it more than he wants to.

For a while they eat in silence, just the quiet hum of the store around them. Then Jeongguk clears his throat. “You know… ”

Taehyung glances up. “Huh?”

“You can talk to me. About… stuff.”

Taehyung blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

“You said you had a bad day.” Jeongguk’s gaze flickers down to his noodles, voice dropping. “So you can talk to me. If something’s bothering you or even just about nothing. I’m here.”

Taehyung stares, words sticking in his throat.

Jeongguk bites his lower lip, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s what friends do, right? Be there in thick and thin.”

The feeling rises again, heavy, ugly, choking. He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be doing this to Jeongguk  and yet Jeongguk is sitting across from him, offering his warmth like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Taehyung forces a smile, even though it makes his stomach turn, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Jeongguk smiles back and goes on eating.

Taehyung clears his throat, adding, “It’s the same for me too. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” Jeongguk says simply, glancing up with another smile.

And Taehyung wishes he didn’t.

When he drops Jeongguk at the convenience store for his shift, Jeongguk’s hand is already on the door handle when Taehyung blurts, “Jeongguk.”

“Mm?”

“I wanted to come. Tonight, I mean. I really did.”

For a moment, Jeongguk just looks at him. Then his whole face breaks into a smile.

And Taehyung is glad he said it.

Back home, Taehyung flops onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The house is quiet. And yet all he can think about is Jeongguk, working through the night while he lies here in comfort.

He wasted Jeonggu’s time, kept him busy and distracted. This is what he wanted, right? But The more he thinks about it, the heavier the guilt becomes, until it’s unbearable. He groans, dragging the blanket over his head and grabs his phone for distraction.

Unread messages wait for him. He opens them, eyes on Jimin’s name.

Jimin:

Don’t pull that shit again.

You got Jeongguk worried.

He texted me and didn’t stop until I told him you were okay and you pull this shit sometimes. 

“this” meaning disappearing from the face of earth.

The phone slips from Taehyung’s hand. The guilt roars back, stronger than ever.

Chapter Text

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?”

Taehyung lifts his head slowly from where he is crouched beside his desk, fingers paused on the zipper of his half-closed bag, blinking as if he has just surfaced from somewhere far away.

“I’ve been calling you,” Hyunwoo says, his voice carrying a faint edge of irritation as he leans against the desk beside him. “You didn’t answer.”

Taehyung swallows. His gaze drops instinctively, settling somewhere near the floor as his fingers curl tighter around the strap of his backpack, gripping it as though the small weight might anchor him long enough to gather the scattered pieces of his thoughts. Lately his mind has felt like this constantly, too loud, too crowded, thoughts overlapping and echoing until even the quiet moments feel deafening.

“Uh… yeah. Sorry,” he mutters after a second, the apology sounding thin even to his own ears. “I was just… thinking.”

Hyunwoo studies him for half a beat before shrugging it off with easy indifference, already shifting gears the way he always does.

“Alright, whatever,” he says, pushing himself off the desk. “Anyway, Nari’s brother just got back from the States, and apparently he brought the good stuff with him.” His mouth tilts into a knowing grin. “You in for tonight?”

Taehyung freezes mid-motion as he rises, the strap of his bag sliding halfway onto his shoulder before stopping there.

His brows draw together slowly.

“Wait,” he says, turning his head slightly. “Didn’t Nari’s brother leave for the States last year?” A brief pause, then quieter, more puzzled. “He’s back already?”

“Yeah.” Hyunwoo starts toward the classroom door, gesturing for Taehyung to follow as the hallway noise seeps in around them. “Apparently he couldn’t hack it over there. Packed it in and came back.”

“Oh.”

The word slips out before Taehyung can think about it, landing somewhere between surprise and something emptier.

They step into the corridor together, the usual end-of-day chaos spilling around them, students talking over each other,  the dull echo of footsteps bouncing off the tiled floor but Taehyung barely registers any of it.

He doesn’t usually do this.

He doesn’t chase highs the way some of his friends do, doesn’t make a habit of drowning his thoughts in whatever temporary escape someone happens to have on hand.

But sometimes, on nights when the weight in his chest feels too heavy to carry and the noise in his head refuses to quiet no matter how hard he tries, it becomes the only thing that can press pause on everything, even if the silence only lasts for a few borrowed hours.

Tonight feels like one of those nights.

“…Okay,” he says finally, the word leaving him in a low voice that almost disappears beneath the noise of the hallway. “I’ll come.”

Hyunwoo’s face brightens instantly.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he says, reaching out to slap Taehyung lightly on the arm with a grin that is far too pleased with itself. “That’s classic Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung smiles back automatically, but it’s the kind that curves his lips without ever touching his eyes.

“I’ll see you after class,” Hyunwoo adds, already starting down the corridor ahead of him.

He gets a few steps away before stopping abruptly at the corner, turning back just long enough to call over his shoulder.

“Oh, and we’re stopping by the café first before heading over.”

Taehyung lifts a hand in acknowledgment.

“Got it!” he calls back.

Hyunwoo nods once and disappears around the corner with the rest of the crowd.

For a moment, Taehyung remains where he is, standing alone in the middle of the hallway as the noise of campus life rushes past him like a current he can’t quite step into, his hand still loosely gripping the strap of his bag.

Then he exhales slowly, adjusts it over his shoulder, and starts walking.

When Hyunwoo said they would stop by a cafe, Taehyung didnt expect it to be caffeine lab. His chest tightens the second the car pulls into the familiar parking lot. As the others pile out, laughing and stretching their legs, Taehyung stays rooted in his seat, hands gripping his phone like it’s a lifeline.

“Won’t you come inside?” Nari asks, leaning down to peer through the open window.

The rest pause, watching. Taehyung opens the door and gets out too.

“I think I will stay here. Why don’t you guys go?”

Nari chuckles, shaking her head like he is being ridiculous. “You can’t just be here outside in the cold.”

“Dude, just come inside. You won’t die,” Heesung adds, already half turned toward the entrance.

But Taehyung can’t. Not when Jeongguk is working his shift right now.

It’s not that they aren’t on speaking terms anymore. If anything, things have been… good. Jeongguk has been reaching out like always and Taehyung has even replied to a few messages. That’s the least he can do after that night when Jeongguk had been the only one there for him but good doesn’t mean close and he doesn’t have the energy to pretend.

Just the thought of walking in, faking a smile,  pretending to be Jeongguk’s friend, it feels like too much.

Hyunwoo exhales sharply and stuffs his hands into his pockets before stepping closer, his posture stiff with the kind of irritation that has clearly been building for a while. The easy grin he usually carries is gone now, replaced by something impatient.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, Taehyung,” he says, his voice low but edged with annoyance, “but honestly? You’ve been acting weird as hell these past few weeks, and it’s starting to get old. Every time we hang out you’re somewhere else in your head, and somehow the whole mood just ends up revolving around whatever’s wrong with you.”

Taehyung stares at him for a second, the words landing slower than they should, disbelief flickering across his face as if he isn’t entirely sure he heard that right.

Then a laugh slips out of him, short and bitter.

“Maybe,” he says, tilting his head slightly as he looks back at Hyunwoo, “the reason you don’t know what’s going on is because you never fucking try to find out.”

Hyunwoo doesn’t flinch. If anything, his expression hardens further.

“And you think the rest of us don’t have our own shit going on too?” he shoots back immediately. “The difference is we don’t walk around acting like the world revolves around it.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightens, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he glances past Hyunwoo toward the others, searching their faces for something, support, disagreement, even the faintest hint that someone might step in and tell Hyunwoo he’s being unfair.

But no one does.

One of them pretends to check his phone. Another suddenly finds the ground very interesting. The silence settles thick and uncomfortable, and somehow that quiet feels worse than the accusation itself.

Taehyung lets out a slow breath through his nose, something in his chest twisting tight.

“So that’s what this is about?” he says after a moment, his voice sharpening as realization clicks into place. “Me going inside earlier?”

Without waiting for an answer, he reaches for the café door and pushes it open harder than necessary.

“Fine,” he mutters, stepping through first. “Let’s fucking go.”

The café greets them with a wave of warmth the moment they step inside, the soft whirr of coffee machines blending with the low murmur of conversations and the clink of ceramic cups against saucers.

The air smells faintly of roasted beans and something sweet.

Almost without thinking, Taehyung’s gaze drifts toward the counter.

And then it stops.

Jeongguk is there.

He’s in the middle of carrying a tray with two drinks balanced carefully in his hands when their eyes meet across the room.

For a split second, Jeongguk freezes.

The movement halts so abruptly that the liquid in one of the cups sloshes violently against the rim before spilling over, splattering onto the tray and dripping onto the floor below. His eyes widen, startled.

Then, just as quickly, he snaps back into motion.

Jeongguk steadies the tray, glancing down to make sure the cups don’t tip over completely before hurrying the last few steps toward the table he was heading to, his movements suddenly a little too careful, a little too rushed.

Taehyung watches the whole thing unfold.

And then, when Jeongguk finally looks back up.

Taehyung offers him a small, quiet smile.

Jeongguk straightens, lips curling into a smile of his own. He lifts a hand in a quick wave then drops it just as fast, cheeks coloring as if realizing how stupid it must look. His gaze breaks away, darting anywhere but Taehyung but the warmth of the moment lingers in the space between them.

Taehyung slips into an empty chair, setting his bag down by his feet. He doesn’t miss the way the others follow, laughing and dragging chairs, filling the table around him like nothing happened outside.

“Taehyung,” Nari says gently once they’ve settled, “you know, if you are going through something, you can always talk to us.”

His jaw tightens. He keeps his eyes on the counter, on Jeongguk. The younger boy is busy wiping down the machine but Taehyung catches the way his brow furrows, the fleeting glance he sneaks at their table. When Jeongguk realizes Taehyung is looking back, he quickly turns away.

God, Taehyung prays he’s not the one sent over to take their order.

“It’s nothing, Nari.” His voice comes out flat. He sighs, flicking his gaze toward Hyunwoo, who sits stone faced “And it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Well whatever it is, it is good for us,” Nari chirps, smiling as if she’s offering comfort. “We’re getting high tonight. What better way to deal when life is shit, right?”

Taehyung stares at her, wondering if this is really what passes for consolation. He can’t help but think about Jeongguk, about how different his comfort feels. Jeongguk never makes him feel selfish for hurting. His comfort is steady, strong like a pillar to lean against.

And it’s strange but he can picture himself opening up to Jeongguk, actually talking, actually being heard. With these people? Who has he known for years? He can’t even imagine it. He knows exactly how it would end, with him feeling stupid.

“Well, look who works here,” Heesung snickers suddenly.

Taehyung startles, head snapping up, only to see Jeongguk approaching, notebook in hand. His stomach sinks.

He glances sideways and sure enough, Hyunwoo is grinning like a predator who just found his prey.

“Hi Jeongguk,” Hyunwoo sing songs.

Jeongguk offers a thin, uncomfortable smile. “Hey,” His voice barely rises above a whisper.

“We didn’t know you worked here,” Hyunwoo continues smirking.

Taehyung feels Jeongguk’s eyes flicker toward him, he knows it’s coming so he drops his gaze to the table, pretending not to notice.

“If we had known, we would have come here more often, right guys?”

The table stays quiet.

“Come on” Hyunwoo presses. “Jeongguk can get us discounts, right?”

Jeongguk shifts, shoulders tightening. His eyes drop, clearly uncomfortable.

“Since you are Taehyung’s friend, you can do this for us, yeah?” 

Taehyung’s frown deepens. Before he can stop himself, the words are out, “Don’t be an asshole Hyunwoo.”

The table goes still. Jeongguk’s eyes widen at the defense, flicking quickly to Taehyung before dropping again.

“N-no, it’s okay,” Jeongguk stammers. “I can…I can get you discounts. Just let me know your orders.”

Taehyung's jaw tightens. Is he actually this stupid?

The others immediately start rattling off orders, taking advantage. By the time it’s his turn, Jeongguk hesitates, pen hovering.

“And for you, Taehyung?”

“Just water,” 

Jeongguk frowns, “Are you sure?”

Taehyung nods once.

“Okay… I will be back with your orders.” He bows his head slightly before walking away, shoulders tight.

The second he is out of earshot, laughter erupts at the table.

“Who would have thought Taehyung being friends with Jeongguk would be beneficial?”

Taehyung glares, heat crawling up his neck.

“Come on Taehyung, loosen up,” Heesung chuckles. “We were actually nice to him, so what’s your deal?”

“Nice?” Taehyung snaps. “You literally forced him into giving you discounts.”

“calm down. It’s just a discount. And he is friends with you, so–”

“He is not my friend,” Taehyung cuts sharply. “So fuck off and we don’t even know if there are employee discounts here.”

“He would have told us if there weren’t, right?” Nari asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

That’s it.

Taehyung pushes back his chair, the legs scraping against the floor. Without another word, he strides toward the counter.

Jeongguk looks up from the counter where he is lining cups, a pitcher in his hand.

“Why did you agree to give discounts?”

Jeongguk bites his lower lip, gaze dropping back to the drink he is making. “Because they are your friends.”

Taehyung frowns, watching the younger boy move, every gesture so earnest it almost hurts. He exhales, “Can you even give us a discount?”

Jeongguk hesitates, fingers worrying at the hem of his apron. “I… can pay the bill for your orders with my wage today.”

Taehyung’s mouth falls open. He scrubs a hand over his face, groaning. “Jeongguk, you are not doing that. You should have just said there’s no discount.”

“That would make you look bad,” Jeongguk says softly, almost pouting.

Taehyung stares, “How?”

“Because I’m your friend and I don’t... want to embarrass you.”

Something twists in Taehyung’s chest. If Jeongguk knew, if he had heard Taehyung flat out deny their friendship in front of the others, what would he think then?

Groaning again, Taehyung pulls out his wallet.

Jeongguk blinks, “What are you doing?”

“I’m paying the bill and you don’t tell them, okay?” He pushes the money across the counter.

Jeongguk doesn’t move. His wide eyes search Taehyung’s face. “Hyung? Are you… embarrassed of me?”

Taehyung jerks his head up, “What?”

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

“No,” Taehyung says quickly, the word coming out like a question instead of an answer.

“Then don’t do this,” Jeongguk says, voice gentle but firm. “Just… let me take care of it.”

Taehyung hesitates, unwilling to back down. Jeongguk must see it because he adds quietly, “Please hyung.”

The plea cracks something in him. Taehyung exhales, defeated and tucks the money back into his wallet. “Fine but you will let me pay next time, okay?”

Jeongguk’s lips curve into a small smile. “Okay.”

And suddenly Taehyung wishes Jeongguk wasn’t like this. That he wasn’t kind, wasn’t so goddamn nice because then maybe this would all be easier.

Later that night, they sprawl out in Nari’s basement, the air thick with smoke. Taehyung lies flat on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His body hums with warmth, the high curling in his chest until everything feels easy and light.

For the first time in a long while, it feels like things will work out like his friendship with Hoseok, crumbling isn’t so heavy like Namjoon being back, getting married is something he can accept like his mother’s absence doesn’t ache quite so deep like what he’s doing to Jeongguk isn’t cruel.

The drugs smooth over everything, painting it in soft edges. He doesn’t feel anxious or stressed.  There is just this dizzy, glowing warmth inside him.

So when Nari swings a leg over his lap and leans down, blowing smoke into his mouth, their lips brushing as they kiss, it feels fine too. He grips her hips, guiding her movements as if this is natural as if this is what he wants.

Laughter cuts through the haze.

“Do you think Jeongguk does everything Taehyung asks because he wants to suck his dick?” Hyunwoo jeers.

The room erupts into hollers. Taehyung doesn’t flinch, he breaks the kiss, takes another drag and exhales toward the ceiling.

“Rumor is, he is really good at it. I wonder how that feels, ” Heesung snickers.

“You’re such a whore,” someone says, laughter doubling.

“What? I just wanna get my dick sucked. Is that so bad?”

“Are you fucking gay?”

“Fuck no.”

“You know getting your dick sucked by a guy is pretty gay, right?”

“Think there are other gay dudes on campus?”

“Probably.”

“Think Jeongguk sucks them off too?”

“But we all know he wants to suck Taehyung’s dick.”

More laughter, loud and cruel. Nari wraps her arm around Taehyung’s shoulders, grinning down at him, “Too bad he’s not into him.”

The chorus of laughter swells again, bouncing off the walls.

Taehyung just stares at the ceiling, eyes half lidded, smoke slipping past his lips. Everything feels fine but deep beneath his skin, he knows it isn’t.

Taehyung blinks awake, his eyelids dry and heavy as if sand has been rubbed into them. His mouth tastes bitter, his tongue sticking to the roof like old paper. The air in the basement still clings with the smell of smoke and sweat, thick enough to make his stomach churn.

The others are sprawled across the floor in a heap of limbs and tangled blankets, dead to the world. Only Nari has claimed the sofa, curled into herself like a cat.

Taehyung pushes himself up, groaning when his head throbs at the sudden movement. His phone feels cold in his hand as he checks the screen.

Shit.

He has psychology in an hour. He is already screwed.

His body sways when he stands, feet dragging against the floor. Hunger gnaws at him but the thought of food also makes bile rise to his throat. He grips the wall for balance as he climbs the stairs out of the basement.

The light upstairs stings his eyes. On the way to the door, he notices Woobin sitting at the kitchen table, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. The scrape of the chair or maybe just instinct makes him turn, Woobin’s eyes meet his and he smiles.

Taehyung hesitates, then gives the smallest nod in acknowledgment.

“Had fun, Taehyung-ah?” Woobin’s voice is easy, almost mocking.

“Um… yeah,” Taehyung mutters.

Woobin exhales, lips curling as he watches the smoke dissipate. “It’s good, right? The weed. Makes you forget everything for a while.”

Taehyung licks his cracked lips, his throat dry. “Right.”

He doesn’t want to stand here. Doesn’t want to talk. There’s something about Woobin that crawls under his skin. He knows he’s not a saint himself but Woobin? he’s worse. Dark in a way Taehyung doesn’t want to understand.

Once, Woobin had been a senior who everyone admired but popularity in university doesn’t mean much when the world outside is sharper and hungrier. Seoul didn’t take him in, the States didn’t either and now he is back with nothing but that smile and his ego. A man without a place. A loser if Taehyung is honest.

“I… I’m running late. I will see you later,” Taehyung says, already edging toward the door.

Woobin laughs, low and humorless. “Sure man.”

That’s when Taehyung notices it, the faint smear of white powder around Woobin’s nose, the red hue in his eyes. His stomach twists.

He swallows hard, skin prickling as if something rotten has brushed against him. He pushes out the door, heart beating too fast.

More than anything, Taehyung prays he never ends up like that.

Rain softly patters against the window, the professor’s voice blurring into background noise beneath its rhythm.

Taehyung sighs and glances at the empty seat beside him. Jeongguk hasn’t shown up today. Maybe the storm kept him away.

When Taehyung left Nari’s house earlier, it was only a drizzle. By the time he reached campus though, the skies had opened, sheets of rain pounding the streets. Maybe Jeongguk finished his shift and went straight to bed, unable to drag himself awake for class.

Just as Taehyung is settling into that thought, the door creaks open. He looks up and his lips part.

Jeongguk enters, drenched head to toe, hood pulled over his head, water dripping steadily from his clothes.

A couple of students snicker under their breath but Jeongguk doesn’t react. He keeps his head down, shoulders hunched and walks straight toward his seat. He hesitates for a second when he notices Taehyung there as if surprised, then sits without a word.

Taehyung can only imagine how miserable that must feel, sitting in soaked clothes. The rain hasn’t let up in hours, why didn’t he just bring an umbrella?

“I think you should have carried an umbrella,” Taehyung whispers.

Jeongguk pauses, pulling a damp book from his bag, “Didn’t have one.”

Taehyung frowns.

“My dad took it for work. I was running late so… yeah.”

“Oh.” The word slips out, dumb and useless.

A small puddle forms under Jeongguk’s chair, water dripping steadily. His hood stays up.

Taehyung rummages through his pocket. “I have a handkerchief. At least dry your hair. Take off your hood.”

Jeongguk stills.

Taehyung holds the handkerchief out, waiting. When Jeongguk doesn’t move, his frown deepens. “Take it off?”

“Um… no I’m good, hyung.”

“Jeongguk.”

The younger looks up, but the shadow of his hood still hides his face.

“You will catch a cold.”

There is a long hesitation before Jeongguk finally pulls the hood back.

At first, Taehyung doesn’t notice. Then he does.

The breath punches out of him. A dark bruise spreads across Jeongguk’s cheek, swollen and raw, so deep the skin around his eye is nearly swallowed by it.

Taehyung gasps. His throat works as he swallows. Questions pile up in his head, Who did this? How? Why? but he bites them back. Asking means knowing and knowing means caring more than he should.

Jeongguk shifts in his seat, uncomfortable under the silence. Taehyung simply presses the handkerchief into his hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

“No.” Jeongguk’s voice is a whisper, barely there.

Taehyung nods, respecting it.

The lecture drones on, the professor’s tone steady and unbothered, “The human mind often chooses avoidance as a coping mechanism. We ignore the wound, we bury the memory because acknowledging it means reopening the pain.”

Taehyung stares straight ahead.

“I have got spare clothes in my locker,” he murmurs. “We will dry off in the bathroom, then you can change.”

Jeongguk looks up, “Hyung?”

“Mmh?”

“Why do you keep spare clothes in your locker?”

Taehyung licks his lips, searching for something casual, “Just in case you know, what if I spill ketchup on myself?”

A soft giggle escapes Jeongguk, sweet and unexpected. Taehyung can’t help it, he turns to look at him, warmth tugging at his chest. Their eyes meet and the laugh spills from him too, quiet but real.

When Jeongguk steps out of the bathroom, hair still damp, Taehyung blinks. The loose shirt and sweats, clothes he barely thought about, fit Jeongguk a little too well. The shoulders, the length, even the way the fabric clings just faintly as Jeongguk tugs it down.

Jeongguk looks shy, fingers brushing the hem as if it isn’t sitting right, though Taehyung can tell it is. Maybe that’s the problem, it sits too right.

“It fits,” Taehyung says, keeping his tone even.

“Yeah.” Jeongguk glances down at himself, then back up. “Um I’ll wash it and return it tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Huh?”

“Keep it,” Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t wear it anymore.”

Jeongguk looks up sharply, eyes wide. “Really?”

The brightness that spreads across his face is unguarded, almost boyish, and for a split second Taehyung imagines a tail wagging behind him. He must really like it.

“Yeah just… don’t wear it to uni. That would be weird.”

Jeongguk falters, ducking his head. “Right, yeah, no worries. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk presses his lips together, then smiles again, softer this time. “Thanks, hyung.”

Taehyung shrugs, “It’s no big deal you know.”

Jeongguk fiddles with the sleeve, eyes down. After a quiet beat he murmurs, shy and almost vulnerable, “Yeah… but you are the only one who would do that for me.”

Today is the day they are supposed to hang out with Yoongi.

When Taehyung wakes up in the morning, the first thing he sees is a glaring message in the group chat with Hoseok and Jimin. Hoseok has already booked the movie tickets and demands they show up. That there must be no excuses and no refusals.

Taehyung doesn’t want to go. He has not spoken to Hoseok since the last time they met and the silence between them has weighed heavier than he likes to admit. Still, he knows he overreacted back then. Maybe today is the day he finally makes amends.

It’s going to be awkward, that much he already accepts. But he doesn’t let it stop him. He drags himself out of bed, takes a shower, dresses in casual clothes and heads out. First stop, Jimin’s place. They will drive to the theater together.

The moment Jimin slides into the passenger seat, he squints at Taehyung.

“Wow. You look like shit.”

“I know,” Taehyung mutters, eyes on the mirror as he reverses the car.

“How are you doing, though? Sorry I couldn’t check up. Assignments have been killing me.” Jimin groans, tipping his head back against the seat.

Taehyung presses his lips together, the words clawing their way out.

“It’s okay. Just… nothing really happened. Except Namjoon. Namjoon hyung is back. He is getting married. He is staying and he is pretending everything’s fine so… yeah.” 

And I miss eomma like crazy. Minji’s being weirdly obsessed with Jeongguk and I’m stuck dealing with him because of her. My mind’s a mess. Such a mess that I have been thinking about getting high again. It’s the only thing that ever shuts it all up. But he doesn't say all that loud. 

Silence falls heavy between them. Jimin stares out the windshield, brows furrowed, as if choosing his words with care.

“Namjoon hyung is back?”

“Yeah. He fucking is.”

“And he is getting married?”

“Yup.”

“He is going to stay here?”

“He will.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“Who is he marrying?” Jimin asks quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“Your father isn’t forcing him into some business marriage, right?”

Taehyung frowns, his eyes flicking to Jimin before locking back on the road, “That’s what you care about? Whether hyung’s being forced?”

“Well… knowing your father? Yeah.” Jimin shrugs.

Taehyung’s jaw clenches.

“What did you expect?” Jimin says carefully.

“I don’t know, Jimin. Maybe agree with me? That Namjoon’s an asshole for coming back now just because it’s convenient and no he’s not being forced into marriage. He is marrying someone he wants, someone here and suddenly that’s enough to make him stay but it wasn’t enough when it was for me and Minji.”

His chest heaves as the words spill, harsh and raw.

Jimin watches him with quiet sympathy. “Taehyung-ah,” he says softly, “I have agreed with you a million times that Namjoon was an asshole–”

“Is an asshole.”

“Right. Is an asshole, for leaving you both. I bet he feels that guilt every day. What he did was wrong. But… have you tried talking to him? Tried understanding why he did it?”

Taehyung swallows hard. His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “No and I don’t think I want to. What he did was wrong, that’s it. He doesn’t get to come back now.”

Jimin sighs, resting his chin on his hand. “I just think… you don’t want to hear his side because being angry is easier. Anger feels safe. What if he had a valid reason? What if his point of view makes sense? What if leaving hurt him as much as it hurt you and Minji?”

Taehyung opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“He did try to talk to you back then,” Jimin continues gently. “After he told you he was leaving but you weren’t ready to hear him.”

Taehyung’s grip on the wheel goes white knuckled. “And why are you taking his side now? back then you were on mine. You told me yourself how much of an asshole he was.”

“Yeah because that’s what you needed to hear then and he was an asshole for leaving. That hasn’t changed. But now? I think his side matters too. I thought you were ready to hear that.”

“But?” Taehyung presses.

“But maybe you’re not.”

The car fills with the hum of the engine and the low murmur of the city outside.

“Taehyung,” Jimin says softly, “being angry is easy. Understanding, forgiving, that’s hard. But anger destroys and I don’t want it to destroy you.”

Taehyung’s voice cracks, even though he keeps it low. “What if there’s no reason? What if he left because he didn’t care about me and Minji? What if he just wanted the easy way out? To forget?”

“Then…” Jimin exhales, “take your time. Slowly forgive him anyway.”

“Saying that is easy.”

“I know.” Jimin glances at him, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “But saying this to you is easy too because I know you have a big heart.”

Taehyung looks at him briefly before turning his eyes back on the road.

If only he knew. If only he knew how small that heart feels sometimes.

Taehyung might have underestimated how awkward this meeting would be because it’s not just awkward. It’s painful.

By the time he and Jimin arrive at the theater, Hoseok and Yoongi are already waiting. None of them moves closer. They just…. stand there. Four grown men caught in a silence that’s too heavy to break.

Yoongi doesn’t help. He either has unnervingly sharp eye contact or no eye contact at all. Taehyung can’t tell which is worse. His sharp eyes, tattoos, longer hair, and nose piercing give him a presence that stands out. If someone saw him next to Jeongguk, they might mistake them for brothers.

He carries himself with a kind of disinterested calm but when his gaze does flicker to Taehyung, it crawls under his skin. It feels like Yoongi sees right through him like he can peel him open and find every ugly demon inside.

Hoseok finally breaks the silence. “Well, let’s keep the intro short since the movie’s starting soon. Guys, this is Yoongi. Yoongi, this is Taehyungie and Jiminie.”

Yoongi just nods.

Taehyung nods back, stiff and polite but Jimin being Jimin steps forward and hugs him. The sight is so absurd Taehyung almost laughs, Yoongi looks like he would rather vanish into thin air than be hugged by a stranger.

When Taehyung glances at Hoseok, he catches the softness in his smile. It’s the kind of smile that says this moment, Jimin and Taehyung meeting Yoongi, being civil means the world to him.

Hoseok must sense the weight of his gaze because he looks over and offers a smile just for Taehyung. Instinctively, Taehyung forces one back.

“We have got about ten minutes,” Jimin says, ever the peacemaker. “Why don’t Yoongi hyung and I grab nachos and Hoseok hyung and Taehyungie get the popcorn?”

Taehyung knows what Jimin’s doing. He’s trying to pair people up, nudge conversations along, make everyone feel included. That’s just who Jimin is. Maybe it comes from his past, the way Taehyung once stood up for him in school when he was being bullied. They became friends instantly after that and they have stuck together ever since, through everything, even into the same college. Maybe Jimin’s kindness is his way of making sure no one else ever feels as lonely as he once did.

“Sure, let’s go, Taehyung-ah,” Hoseok says, draping an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders.

They join the line for popcorn. The awkwardness presses in again but Hoseok breaks it. Like always.

“I’m sorry about the other day, Taehyung-ah,” he says quietly.

Taehyung turns to look at him. Hoseok’s eyes are soft, carrying guilt. “It was wrong of me to assume things. You matter to me, Taehyung. That day… it came out all wrong. What you and Jeongguk have is none of my business. I just want you both to be friends and be happy with each other.”

Taehyung parts his lips, guilt prickling. “No, hyung. I’m sorry too. I overreacted. I shouldn’t have assumed you were assuming the worst. I know you just care. You were worried.”

Hoseok’s smile is small but genuine as he pulls Taehyung into a hug. Taehyung exhales against him, breathing in the familiarity he’s missed.

When they step back, Hoseok’s smile lingers, soft and hopeful. “Us and Yoongi and Jeongguk, we’re going to get along so well.”

Taehyung forces his lips into a curve. “Yes.”

 the word feels hollow.

During the movie, Taehyung finds himself distracted. His eyes keep straying, not to the screen but to Hoseok and Yoongi.

He doesn’t mean to stare but something about them pulls him in. The way they lean toward each other, whispering in low voices, their shoulders brushing every so often. They giggle softly at something only they understand like they’re in a world of their own where nothing else matters.

It’s strange, Taehyung has never seen Yoongi without that guarded, unreadable face. But next to Hoseok, his expression softens, it cracks open. There’s something rare in the way he looks at Hoseok, something so natural it almost unsettles Taehyung.

He thinks of his own bonds, with Jimin, with Hoseok. They’re close, of course. Deep, even. But this is different. This thing between Hoseok and Yoongi, it has a quiet comfort, an intimacy that feels untouchable like if Taehyung looks too long, he is intruding on something private, something he can’t quite name.

A tap on his arm breaks the trance. Jimin nudges him with the popcorn bucket, brows raised and Taehyung blinks, pulling his eyes back to the glowing movie screen.

It’s only later, when the credits roll and the lights come up, that Taehyung realizes something else. Yoongi has a gummy smile. He only noticed because Hoseok was the one who pulled it out of him.

After the movie, they head to a barbecue place. Yoongi offers to pay and no one argues with free food.

Dinner is… nice. Surprisingly so. They eat until the table is littered with plates and bowls, talking about how terrible their classes are, how suffocating assignments feel and how none of them can wait to graduate.

Yoongi opens up about music how he has been working on beats, recording here and there. He even mentions Jeongguk once or twice, probably about the demos Jeongguk’s been helping with. Hoseok lights up at that, saying how they have to hear Jeongguk because he “sounds like an angel.” Taehyung tunes the rest out, stabbing at his food.

“So, I’m assuming you’re gonna take over Kim Corp after graduating right, Taehyung?”

He snaps out of his thoughts, caught off guard by his name. “Hm? Uh… yeah, right. I guess. I don’t know.”

Yoongi nods slowly. “Seems nice to have a backup, right?”

“Backup?” Taehyung echoes, reaching for his glass of water.

“You know, if you ever want to start your own company and it doesn’t work out… you’ll always have Kim Corp to fall back on.”

Taehyung glances at him. Yoongi’s sharp eyes are unreadable, neither mocking nor warm. With him, it’s impossible to tell if there’s malice behind the words or just honesty.

“Right,” Taehyung says finally, licking his lips.

Yoongi places a piece of meat on Hoseok’s plate, his hand casual. Hoseok beams at the gesture, “So what are your plans after graduating?”

Taehyung opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He doesn’t know. He’s never known. “Probably learn the ropes. More like my father will force me to.” He lets out a shaky laugh.

“Oh, he’ll definitely do that,” Jimin says knowingly, brows raised. His chuckle doesn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. Jimin’s never liked his father because Jimin has seen him, he knows, he knows more than anyone else.

The topic shifts away and only then does Taehyung breathe easier.

Later, he excuses himself to step outside for a smoke. The night air is cool, brushing over his skin as he leans against the wall. His lighter flares, the first drag filling his lungs and with it comes the relief of silence. He is exhausted, desperate to go home and collapse into bed.

The door creaks open. He hears footsteps. When he looks over, it’s Yoongi, slipping outside with the same unhurried stride. He takes out a cigarette and Taehyung wordlessly lifts his lighter. The flame catches. Yoongi nods once in thanks.

They smoke in silence, the space between them filled only with faint exhales of smoke and the hum of the street.The night air clings cool to Taehyung’s skin, the taste of tobacco sharp against his tongue.

“You’re really popular at uni,” Yoongi says finally.

Taehyung lets out a quiet chuckle without meeting his eyes, “Am I?”

“Jeongguk talks a lot about you.”

The words freeze him as his pulse stutters. He takes another drag, inhaling slowly like the smoke might steady him.“What does he say?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer the question directly. “He’s been talking more recently.”

Taehyung swallows, the taste of tobacco bitter on his tongue. “Yeah. We… we are working on a project together.”

“Hm. I know.”

The silence creeps back in, heavy now. 

Taehyung smokes down to the end, then flicks the cigarette to the ground, grinding it under his shoe. “I’m going inside.”

He moves to go, but Yoongi’s hand clamps around his arm. Taehyung stiffens, eyes snapping to him.

“I don’t know if you know this, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi says, locking him in a steady stare. “I broke Hyunwoo’s nose last year. He is a bitch.”

Taehyung's heart speeds up, yoongi looks at him like he is peeling something back like he knows something , “Why are you telling me this?”

“He hurt Kook.” Yoongi’s voice dips lower, rougher, like speaking the words is painful. “And I won’t hesitate to do it again, to anyone who tries.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightens. Neither of them looks away, their stares colliding like a challenge. It feels like whoever blinks first loses.

The door swings open. “Hey, are you both coming in?” Jimin pokes his head out, oblivious.

Yoongi exhales sharply and looks away, stubbing out his cigarette. “Yeah. We’re coming.”

He slips inside first, leaving Taehyung in the doorway.

They don’t speak to each other again for the rest of the night.

Minji :

since you're meeting jeongguk tonight 

ask him how much progress he has made in the project.

Minji’s text lingers in Taehyung’s head as he pockets his phone and looks up at the convenience store.

Since Jeongguk works two jobs after classes, they have agreed to meet here tonight to work out the details of their psychology project. Jeongguk had insisted it wasn’t necessary, that he would make time over the weekend, but Taehyung has a “business party” coming up, a suffocating event he’s already dreading. So tonight, it is.

He sighs before stepping inside. The store is quiet at midnight, almost too quiet. He expects to see Jeongguk behind the counter but instead finds him stocking shelves, sleeves pushed up, movements efficient but tired.

“Hey,” Jeongguk says, pausing when he notices him.

“Hi.”

Taehyung’s eyes catch on the bruise blooming purple and yellow across Jeongguk’s cheek. It’s fading but still angry. Something Yoongi said comes back to him and he can’t help but wonder, was it Hyunwoo? His stare must linger too long because Jeongguk looks away.

“Um.” Taehyung clears his throat, pointing toward the shelf. “Need help with that?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “No, I have got this.”

A little later, they are seated at one of the tables, notebooks open, a few snacks between them. The store is empty, the world outside hushed.

“So,” Taehyung begins, “family influence. Where do we even start? It’s such a big topic.”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Professor wants real life examples. Maybe we can connect the theories to that?”

“Real life as in… our families?”

A half smile. “Unless you’ve got a secret second family.”

Taehyung raises a brow, then breaks into a laugh. 

“Let’s not go too personal,” Jeongguk suggests lightly. “We can stick to general stuff like expectations, sibling affection, things like that.”

Relief loosens something in Taehyung’s chest. He doesn’t think Jeongguk wants to go deep either.

“You have a sibling?” he asks.

“um yeah. A younger brother.” Jeongguk’s gaze flickers away.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

Taehyung files the detail away, though something about the way Jeongguk says it feels weighted.

It feels like the right time to slip Minji into the conversation. “Minji’s been complaining about this project lately. She keeps saying she’s completely stuck on it. How’s it going for you?"

Jeongguk blinks. The reaction is immediate and a little dramatic, his eyes widening as if the thought has just struck him out of nowhere.

“Wait, you know we are in the same class?”

“Of course I do,” Taehyung chuckles.

Jeongguk smiles. "Well…” he says, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish sort of way. “I’ve been struggling with it too, honestly. Half the time I don’t even get the chance to sit down and work on it properly.” His shoulders lift in a small shrug before dropping again. “Tonight was actually supposed to be my catch-up night for it, but… you know.”

He gestures vaguely toward the books on the table.

“…this.”

“Oh.”

Taehyung nods slowly, letting the information settle into place.

That’s useful.

Minji is ahead. Jeongguk is behind.

“How’s Minji doing with it?” Jeongguk asks after a moment, glancing back at him with genuine curiosity.

Taehyung lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, keeping his tone light.

“Same as you, apparently. She says she’s struggling with it too.”

Jeongguk nods thoughtfully, as though that makes perfect sense.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says quietly. “It’s one of those projects that just… feels bigger the more you think about it.” He exhales softly before offering a small, hopeful laugh. “Hopefully it gets easier for her.”

A brief pause.

“…and for me too.”

Taehyung looks down at his cup because for a split second he doesn’t trust his face not to betray him.

Because he knows something Jeongguk doesn’t.

Minji isn’t hoping for that at all.

If anything, she probably hopes it stays difficult for him.

The thought sits uncomfortably in Taehyung’s chest, and he clears his throat softly before steering the conversation somewhere safer.

“How about talking about traditions too? Like my grandma used to say whatever we repeat at home sticks forever.”

Jeongguk brightens. “That’s good, hyung. We could link it with social learning theory.”

Taehyung grins. “Look at you, with your nerdy talk.”

Jeongguk blinks, then laughs. “What do you mean?”

“You’re always paying attention in class. Always know what you’re doing. Total know it all."

“Just call me a loser already.”

Taehyung frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Most people do.” Jeongguk doodles idly with his pen. 

 “I don’t believe that,” he says quietly.

That finally makes Jeongguk glance up.

The smile he offers is small and a little fragile, like it doesn’t quite know if it’s allowed to exist. “Funny thing is,” he says, voice soft , “most of them don’t even know me. They don’t talk to me, they just… decide things from a distance... You’re the only one who actually does.”

His lips twitch faintly. “Well… you and Jimin hyung, Hoseok hyung, Yoongi hyung, but still.”

Something in the way he says it makes Taehyung’s chest tighten in a way he doesn’t quite expect.

Before he can overthink it, he leans forward and reaches across the table, plucking the pen straight out of Jeongguk’s hand. The motion is almost abrupt, but it does exactly what he intended, Jeongguk’s attention snaps fully toward him.

For a moment Taehyung just looks at him.

“I think…” He pauses, swallowing, “I think you’re really smart. And funny in ways people probably miss because they don’t bother to listen long enough..I didn’t know that before I started talking to you, but now I do.”

Jeongguk doesn’t interrupt. He just watches him, eyes wide and searching.

“And what’s even better,” Taehyung continues, the words coming slower, “is how kind you are. The way you make people feel comfortable without even trying. The way you never seem to carry any kind of ill intent toward anyone, even when they probably deserve it.”

He exhales softly.

“That doesn’t sound like a loser to me.”

Their eyes meet then, and something shifts.

The air between them seems to still, thickening with a quiet tension neither of them moves to break. The buzzing fluorescent light overhead fades into the background, the noise of the room dissolving into something distant as if the world has quietly stepped away and left only the two of them sitting there.

Taehyung realizes he’s staring.

And Jeongguk… isn’t looking away.

The moment stretches longer than it should, long enough for Taehyung to become acutely aware of every small detail , the faint shadow beneath Jeongguk’s eyes, the way his lashes lower slightly when he breathes out, the faint bruise marking the edge of his cheekbone.

Before he can think better of it, Taehyung lifts his hand.

His fingers hover for a second,  before he finally lets them move , gently tracing the edge of the bruise with a touch so light it barely disturbs the skin.

Jeongguk exhales softly.

His eyelids flutter closed, like someone who has been holding their breath far longer than they realized.

The intimacy of the moment hits Taehyung all at once.

It crashes over him in a sudden rush and his hand pulls back almost immediately, retreating to his side as his throat tightens around something he doesn’t quite know how to name.

Silence settles between them again.

After a moment, Taehyung finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Does it hurt?”

Jeongguk slowly shakes his head.

“Not anymore.”

Taehyung nods, though the answer doesn’t entirely convince him.

But he doesn’t push.

Jeongguk has already made it clear  in the quiet ways that matter more than words  that whatever story sits behind that bruise is not one he’s ready to tell.

Taehyung clears his throat after a moment, the sound cutting softly through the lingering quiet between them as he tries to shift the conversation away.

“So…” he begins, leaning back slightly in his chair, fingers tapping once against the table before stilling. “About spending time with each other’s families… do you actually want to do it?”

Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away.

He bites down on his lower lip, gaze drifting toward the table as if weighing the idea carefully, before finally lifting one shoulder in a small shrug.

“You could meet Jinu,” he says.

Taehyung blinks, momentarily thrown off. “Jinu?”

“My younger brother.”

“Oh.”

The realization settles slowly, and Taehyung nods, though his thoughts keep circling the same quiet detail he has begun to notice over the past few days , the way Jeongguk talks easily about Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi, the way his stories occasionally mention his little brother, yet never once stray toward anything resembling parents.

Not even in passing.

His gaze drifts briefly back to the fading bruise along Jeongguk’s cheekbone, and a quiet, uncomfortable thought takes root in the back of his mind.

He wonders if that’s where it came from.

Taehyung quickly looks away before the thought can settle too deeply.

“Right,” he says after a moment, voice softer now. “And you could meet Minji.”

Jeongguk nods slowly, though the small smile that appears on his face .

“Yeah…” he murmurs. “If she’s okay with it.”

Something about the way he says it makes Taehyung’s stomach twist, as if Jeongguk already expects the answer to be no, as if he already knows Minji doesn’t exactly like him.

Taehyung straightens slightly, the response leaving his mouth before he can think too hard about it.

“No, no,” he says quickly. “She’ll be fine with it.”

It’s a lie.

And judging by the brief flicker in Jeongguk’s eyes, it might not even be a convincing one.

Still, Jeongguk doesn’t question it. Instead, his smile grows a little warmer, a little more genuine, like he’s choosing to believe Taehyung anyway.

“Okay.”

Taehyung is sprawled under a tree on campus, textbooks open in his lap, trying to force formulas into his head. Beside him, Jimin scribbles furiously in his notebook, working through yet another assignment. At this point, Taehyung swears his friend’s homework is endless.

The weather is too nice to be studying, sunlight spilling through the branches, warm enough to kiss his skin but softened by the shade overhead. The grass is cool beneath him, a little damp from last night’s dew. A breeze drifts lazily across the quad, carrying with it the smell of spring flowers and something fried from the cafeteria. Taehyung tilts his head back and inhales deeply, letting the air fill his lungs. For a moment, the world feels easy. Quiet. Almost enough to make him forget the exam he’s cramming for.

That’s when his gaze drifts and lands on them.

Yoongi and Jeongguk are making their way across the lawn together, heads bent close, laughter bubbling between them. Real laughter, the kind that shakes shoulders and lingers. Yoongi tugs playfully on Jeongguk’s hoodie, ruffling his hair, his smile soft in a way Taehyung rarely sees. 

“I didn’t know they were that close,” Taehyung murmurs.

Jimin glances up from his notebook, following his line of sight. “Yoongi and Jeongguk?”

Taehyung hums in agreement.

“They’ve known each other for a long time,” Jimin says simply.

Taehyung tilts his head. “How did that even happen?”

“Yoongi hyung heard Jeongguk singing once,” Jimin explains. “When he found out Jeongguk wasn’t planning on going pro, he offered to help him with demos. Jeongguk said yes. They got close after that.”

Taehyung nods slowly, eyes trailing after them until the pair disappears toward another building. There’s something about the sight that lingers though, like he’s watching a piece of Jeongguk he doesn’t know.

He turns fully to Jimin. “What about you? How did you meet him?”

“Yoongi hyung?”

“No, dumbass. Jeongguk.”

Jimin stares at him like he’s grown another head. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

With an exasperated sigh, Jimin snaps his notebook shut. “We literally met him together on the same night at a club.”

Taehyung blinks. His brows furrow. He can’t remember that at all.

“You had already been drinking,” Jimin continues, rolling his eyes. “Then you got even drunker. No wonder it’s a blur.”

Taehyung tries to rewind his memory, but it’s blank. One day Jeongguk wasn’t in their circle, and the next he was just there like he had always belonged.

“And why did we even talk to him?” Taehyung asks.

Jimin groans. “I cannot believe you don’t remember.”

“I don’t!” Taehyung raises his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, okay? Just tell me.”

Jimin levels him with a look. Then, with a sly shrug, “Why don’t you ask Jeongguk yourself? Since you two are hanging out these days.” He stands, dusts off his pants and stuffs his notebook into his bag.

“Hey, wait….” Taehyung scrambles, shoving his things into his backpack as he trails after Jimin who is already checking the time, probably headed to his next class.

“I had another question.”

Jimin sighs. “What now?”

“What are these rumors about Jeongguk?”

That stops Jimin in his tracks. He turns, eyes narrowing, his voice lower than before. “They are bullshit and I’m glad you don’t know them. Don’t go looking for them, either. Keep it that way.”

He pats Taehyung’s cheek gentle but firm before walking off.

Taehyung doesn’t follow. He knows Jimin won’t say more.

Business parties are the bane of Taehyung’s existence. No, really.

He would rather go through his exams again mind you, the ones that went horribly than attend these social charades. That’s how much he hates them.

Worse yet he is  forced to wake up early on a weekend to get ready. Stylist, makeup artist, the whole ordeal as his father insists “You always have to look perfect. Even if you’re not, you have to fake it.”

So here he is. The stylist fusses with his hair, strands falling just so across his forehead, leaving the rest exposed. He looks the part, a black suit tailored to perfection, a Cartier watch glinting on his wrist, strong eyebrows framing sharp eyes. The image of a Kim Junghyung's son. Yet inside, he feels anything but that.

The stylist leaves. Taehyung bows politely and exhales a long sigh, making his way to the balcony. Below, the party comes to life. Expensive cars pull up and people in high brand clothes step out, some with their partners. His eyes find Namjoon who is greeting guests with a warm, dimpled smile. A pair of glasses sits on his face, making him look older and wiser like he holds the answers to every question in the universe like he could answer a question on rocket science without breaking a sweat. Maybe he really could.

The balcony door opens behind him. Minji steps in, radiant in a red gown, hair pinned up, lips the same bold red. She exhales sharply, then smiles. Before Namjoon left, the three of them used to hide in Taehyung's room during business events until someone came to force them out. His heart warms to see that at least she remembers their old tradition.

They watch the crowd fill the space. “Yay, I can’t wait to interact with these oldies,” Minji says sarcastically.

Taehyung snorts.

"At least someone’s happy to be here," she adds, raising her brows at Namjoon who is now laughing with a guest.

He hesitates then asks, "How’s he….how is it with him at home?"

Minji shrugs. "We don’t really interact much. He tried a few times but I left…though we did talk a few days ago. I was thirsty and went to the kitchen, he was eating cereal while working, of course."

Taehyung’s lips twitch. "He still does that?"

"Yes," she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. Namjoon has always been a  stress eater, always worked late, and always had a penchant for cereal at night.

"What did you talk about?"

“He asked me about uni,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He said… he said he was proud of me.”

Taehyung tightens his grip on the railing as Namjoon disappears inside.

"I didn’t want to talk, you know. Felt like I was betraying myself… betraying you," she admits.

"Minji-yah, you don’t have to feel that way," he reassures her.

"I know," she whispers again. "I’m mad at him, but… when he said that, my heart melted. I ended up asking about his marriage."

Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head, he reaches out gently caressing her cheek. "You were always such a softie."

"Shut up!" she scrunches her nose, but her eyes are soft. "But do you know who he’s marrying?"

"Don’t wanna know."

"You know him," 

Taehyung frowns. "Who? If it’s that jerk Ha Jeon–"

"Seokjin."

He freezes. "Seokjin? As in Kim Seokjin?"

Minji nods. 

"Lawyer Seokjin?"

"Yes," she giggles.

Taehyung remembers. Kim Seokjin once helped his father navigate a complicated business lawsuit. They were surprised how they were to find a lawyer so young and yet so brilliant. His work was impeccable and he saved their father’s ass.

"Wait… so they…?"

"Yeah," Minji nods again. "When Seokjin hyung used to come over, Namjoon fell in love. They had a few conversations, exchanged numbers. Namjoon told him he might need his legal help later and Jin gave it to him. They talked for a while and then Namjoon went to the States but they still somehow made long distance work. He said being away from each other made them realize how much they loved each other."

Taehyung purses his lips. He didn’t expect it, yet he’s not entirely surprised. He remembers Namjoon trying to fit in during dinners when seokjin came over , eyes occasionally lingering on Seokjin. He had just joined  their father’s company then.

"That’s…" he clears his throat. "I’m glad."

He truly means it. He is mad at Namjoon and he can’t stand him but he is genuinely glad he is marrying someone he loves. He can also now see why their father is okay with this. Seokjin is one of the best lawyers in the country and their father knows he will be useful. Of course, he is okay with it.

A knock interrupts their quiet moment.

"Sir, your father is expecting to see you downstairs," a servant says politely, bowing before leaving.

Taehyung groans. Minji smirks. "I guess the call has come. Come on, let’s go."

The moment they step into the main hall, the noise and brilliance of the party hit him full force. The chandeliers spill golden light across polished marble floors, casting the room into a warm glow. Tables are covered with silk cloths, lined with crystal glasses and gilded cutlery. A string quartet plays in the corner, their music almost drowned out by the chatter and clinking glasses. Perfume, cigar smoke and expensive champagne blend into the air. Men and women parade in glittering gowns and sleek tuxedos, diamonds catching the light with every gesture.

His father always knows how to throw the most extravagant parties, extravagance not just for pleasure but for power. Deals are born here, alliances forged, rivals softened. After all who can resist good champagne served beneath a chandelier worth more than a small company?

Taehyung’s eyes scan the crowd until they land on his father. Kim Junghyung stands tall, shoulders squared, speaking to a man whose back is turned. Taehyung doesn’t need to hear the words to know it’s business, always business. His father thrives in these settings, spinning wealth into influence, influence into control. The only difference now is that his mother isn’t on his arm, bored eyes hidden behind a polite smile.

Sometimes, a sick part of Taehyung thinks his father is glad she’s gone. Without her, there are fewer obligations, more freedom to disappear into his work, into other lives, into nights he doesn’t come home.

"I’m thirsty," Minji says, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Let me get us something," he replies, already moving toward the drinks table.

The buffet stretches endlessly, rows of hors d'oeuvres, glasses of wine, champagne fountains, delicately plated desserts. He lingers, filling a glass, when he feels a presence beside him.

"Taehyung-ssi."

The voice is soft and sweet. He turns, eyebrows raised. A young woman bows slightly.

"Yeah?" he says politely.

She looks close to his age, draped in a silver metallic dress that catches the light, her hair flowing loose over her shoulders. Her face is familiar, but he can’t place her name.

"I’m Hyeri," she says quickly, eyes bright. "We met at one of my father’s meetings with yours. We accompanied them, remember?"

Ah. Taehyung remembers. A golf match, then dinner. His father had insisted,no, ordered him to come along, and there Hyeri had been with her father. At the time, Taehyung thought his father was attempting to set something up but when nothing came of it, he let the thought go.

"Of course," Taehyung says smoothly, smiling as if the memory has been sitting right at the front of his mind.

Hyeri giggles. "I thought you had forgotten."

Well, he had. But he doesn’t let it show. Spending time with her that day hadn’t been unbearable, they had played golf, chatted about school. Pleasant enough but if someone asked him to spend another day with her, he would probably decline.

"No, I loved our conversation about art museums," he lies smoothly, voice warm.

Her eyes light up. "You remember! Me too, I loved talking to you, Taehyung. Is it okay if we are informal?"

He forces a smile. "Sure. This is our second meeting, so that’s fair."

"Yeah." Her eyes sparkle, mischievous. "Well, our fathers are getting along well too."

Taehyung follows her gaze and freezes. The man speaking with his father, the one whose back was turned before, is Hyeri’s father.

"Right," he says slowly.

But something feels wrong. The way Hyeri looks at him like she knows something he doesn’t. The way his father leans in closer, giving Hyeri’s father more attention than usual. His father never does anything without reason and Taehyung suddenly remembers that golf match, that dinner, Hyeri at his side.

Dread coils low in his stomach.

"Well… our fathers would like us to get to know each other more closely," Hyeri says shyly.

Taehyung frowns. "Why?"

Her expression falters, surprise flickering across her features, as if she hadn’t expected the question. "I think they just want us to be… better friends," she says, laughing awkwardly.

When Taehyung doesn’t respond, Hyeri continues, voice careful.

"I think it’s also because our companies are about to sign a deal. They want us to be on good terms."

Taehyung lets out a sharp laugh, the kind that isn’t really laughter at all. "On good terms? Right or maybe they want us to get married just to seal the deal."

When he looks at her, she isn’t horrified. She isn’t even surprised. Her expression is almost blank like the thought doesn’t bother her in the slightest.

"You don’t mind that, do you?" he asks bitterly.

Hyeri swallows, then offers a small smile. "I just think… we have good chemistry. We got along well that day, so… "

"That doesn’t mean we get married," he cuts in, sharper than intended.

Hyeri's eyes widen, surprised. Then her laugh bursts out, shaky, eyes glistening like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. "I don’t understand. We’re both good looking, rich, young, the heirs of our families’ companies. If you married me, Taehyung, both Kim Corp and Hanseong Group would be yours. Who wouldn’t want that?"

Taehyung’s jaw tightens. His teeth grind together. "Me."

Hyeri blinks, stunned. "Taehyung, I thought you were ambitious."

"I am ambitious," he says evenly, steel in his voice. "Just not like this. Not here."

Her face softens, fragile around the edges. "I… I thought we had something that day. A connection. Something–"

"Hyeri-ssi." He forces his voice gentle, though his chest feels tight. "I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression but I wasn’t leading you anywhere. I would like to be your friend, truly, but that’s all. That’s how it’s going to be."

He bows politely then turns on his heel before she can answer.

The crowd swallows him up instantly, satin gowns brushing against his sleeve, champagne glasses clinking, voices rising in laughter. A few guests stop him, eager to exchange pleasantries, but he only musters polite smiles and a handful of empty words. His mind is elsewhere. His father is nowhere in sight, and Taehyung feels the restless urgency burn in his chest. He needs to find him. He needs answers.

He finally spots his father across the hall, speaking to Namjoon, who wears a deep frown. Taehyung doesn’t care what they’re discussing. His feet move before his mind does.

"Appa."

That single word makes Kim Junghyung glance up, his gaze sharp.

"I need to talk to you."

Namjoon’s eyes flicker toward him, curious, cautious but Taehyung ignores it. His tone is curt, his expression unyielding.

"We can talk after the party, Taehyung-ah," Junghyung says smoothly.

"Now." Taehyung’s jaw locks. "We need to talk right now."

For a moment, father and son stare at one another. Then Junghyung must see something in Taehyung’s face because he exhales and nods.

"Namjoon-ah, handle the guests for me."

"But, Appa–"

A raised hand silences him. "Do what I ask of you, Namjoon-ah."

Junghyung turns and ascends the stairs. Taehyung glances once at his older brother, catching the tight clench of Namjoon’s jaw, before following his father.

They step into an empty room. Taehyung closes the door with a firm click. His father stands before the balcony doors, tall and commanding, the glow of the city lights casting his reflection like a god carved in glass. He looks untouchable. Invincible. The kind of man who can ruin anyone with a single word. Maybe he can but not him. Not Taehyung.

"This better be important, Taehyung-ah."

"It is." Taehyung’s voice is steady, though his heart pounds. "Don’t you think you have something to tell me?"

Junghyung turns slowly, brow arched. "What do you mean? If I had something to say, I would have said it. If this is why you’ve dragged me away from the party, then I’d like to go back." He moves toward the door.

"What have you promised Hyeri and her father?"

Junghyung stops. His hand hovers over the door handle. He turns, gaze sharp as a blade. "Why do you ask?"

"You want me to marry Hyeri, don’t you?"

His father doesn’t answer. Just stares. His chest rises and falls, measured.

"You’re doing this for business again, aren’t you? Do you ever once ask what I want?" Taehyung demands, frustration bubbling to the surface.

Junghyung's voice stays calm but it slices like ice. "Why? Is it wrong for me to want my son to have good friends? Hyeri is a good kid. It would be nice if you got along with her. More than that, I’ve said nothing of marriage, so why bring it up?"

Taehyung scoffs, bitter. Of course. This is what his father does best, twisting, manipulating, bending reality until you question yourself. Until you wonder if you’re the unreasonable one.

"Not tonight, Appa. I won’t let you do this."

"Do what?"

"Make it sound like this is all for my own good. Like you care what’s best for me because you don’t. All you fucking care about is your business."

"Taehyung," Junghyung roars, voice booming, "is this how you speak to your father?"

"When have you ever been one?" Taehyung shouts back, his voice raw.

The words hang heavy.

The door creaks. Taehyung doesn’t need to look, but he does and finds Namjoon standing there, frozen, watching everything unravel.

Taehyung suddenly feels a hand clamp around his chin, forcing his face upward until he’s staring straight into his father’s eyes. Junghyung's grip is iron, his gaze sharp enough to cut through skin.

“If you ever raise your voice at me again, if you ever dare…” Junghyung’s voice drops to a low, dangerous growl. “...you’ll see the worst of me.”

The hold tightens, burning against Taehyung’s jaw until his eyes water but then he laughs, a hollow, bitter sound that cuts through the heavy silence.

“I think I already have.”

Junghyung’s eyes narrow, darkening and for a moment his face twists with unrestrained rage. The veins in his temple stand out, his jaw flexes as though he’s holding himself back from striking.

“Abuji, let him go.” Namjoon’s voice cuts through, urgent but steady and Taehyung feels his brother’s hand tugging at their father’s arm, trying to pry it away.

But Junghyung doesn’t relent. His glare only sharpens. “Let me hear you, boy.”

The grip tightens again. Taehyung’s chest heaves, his vision blurs not from the pressure but from the sudden rush of anger that floods him because he knows these eyes. He remembers them, the same cruel ones his father turned on his mother. That memory fuels him and with a violent jerk, he wrenches himself free.

His father actually stumbles back a step, startled.

Taehyung’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his hands trembling with fury. He can feel Namjoon’s presence at his side but his brother’s voice is muffled, distant, like he’s shouting through water. All Taehyung sees is Junghyung.

“You want to hear me?” he spits, pointing a trembling finger at his father.

“Taehyung-ah, no–” Namjoon warns but it’s too late.

Taehyung’s words pour out, sharp and poisonous, each one drawn from years of silence and swallowed pain.

“How you were a terrible husband? Or how you were an even worse father? How we were happier when you were gone on your business trips? How you didn’t even let me, Minji, and Namjoon-hyung say goodbye to eomma at her funeral?”

Junghyung’s nostrils flare, his chest rising and falling in short, heavy bursts. His hands curl into fists at his sides, knuckles white.

“You know why I did that,” he bites out.

“Why?” Taehyung’s laugh breaks, half a sob. “Because Minji and I had some stupid nationals competition? Because you wanted us to concentrate while our mother was dying? While she was already… ” his voice cracks, “...already gone?”

Junghyung steps closer, his shadow looming over Taehyung but Taehyung doesn’t back down. His own body is shaking now, every word trembling with grief and fury.

“I wanted the best for you. That’s what your mother would have wanted–”

“Don’t.” Taehyung’s voice shatters, his hand shooting up to stop him. “Don’t say her name like that. She was my mother. She was Minji’s. She was Namjoon-hyung’s. We deserved to know. We deserved to be there.”

Tears stream down his cheeks now and he presses the heel of his palm to his eyes, sobbing. His knees feel weak, the weight of grief threatening to collapse him but he forces himself to stand.

“We didn’t deserve to come back and find… nothing. Like she never existed. Like it was normal.”

The air between them is suffocating. Junghyung’s face is twisted with fury, but his eyes, his eyes are darker than Taehyung’s ever seen, full of something close to fear. His whole body is rigid, shoulders drawn tight, as though holding back the urge to strike or to shout. The tension in the room is electric, sharp like a storm about to break.

“We were children,” Taehyung continues, voice trembling but unyielding. “How did you think Minji would handle it? How did you think Namjoon-hyung would handle it? You didn’t even let him come home after.”

“She was gone.” Junghyung’s voice cracks, low and trembling with suppressed emotion. “You think it didn’t break me? It broke me, Taehyung-ah.”

“Then you should have known what it would do to us.” Taehyung’s voice rises, raw and broken. “You should have known how it felt to not say goodbye. She kissed me before I left…” his hand touches his cheek, fingers trembling, “...and if I had known that was the last time, I would have hugged her. I would have told her how much I loved her. I would have been there at her funeral. But you… ” his voice cracks again, “...you stole that from me.”

Junghyung shakes his head, furious, his body trembling now, too. “I didn’t want you to be weak. I wanted you strong.”

“If this is what strength is, being like you, then I’d rather be weak.” Taehyung sniffles, his voice low but sharp as a blade. “And sometimes, I’m glad eomma is gone because at least she doesn’t have to live with someone like you.”

For the first time, Junghyung falters. His mouth opens but no words come. His face is taut with rage, yet there’s a flicker something hollow and wounded in his eyes. He’s shaking but Taehyung doesn’t care.

“Appa.” Taehyung’s voice is soft now, laced with venom. “I hope you stay lonely. I hope you stay miserable because that’s what you deserve.”

The silence that follows is crushing. Junghyung’s face is flushed, his jaw locked so tightly a vein throbs at his temple. Namjoon stands frozen at the door, eyes red, tears streaking his cheeks, his hand still half lifted as though he wanted to stop this but couldn’t.

Taehyung swallows hard. He has said enough. More than enough. Staying another moment in this suffocating house feels unbearable.

He brushes past them both, his body trembling as he storms out.

Downstairs, the party carries on like nothing has happened, champagne glasses clink, businessmen laugh too loudly and the air is thick with false joy. Deals are being made, fortunes growing.

But Taehyung knows the truth. Behind all the glitter, they’re all just as miserable as he is.

And him? He was never meant for this world.

The next morning, when Taehyung wakes, the first thing he notices is that all his cards have been blocked. Honestly, it doesn’t surprise him. His father has threatened to do it countless times, dangling it like a sword over his head but he never followed through. Not until now.

And why wouldn’t he? Taehyung had disrespected him, questioned him, raised his voice. Junghyung doesn’t take defiance lightly.

Before yesterday, Taehyung would’ve bitten his tongue. He would’ve listened, swallowed it down, told himself it wasn’t worth the fight but last night was the end of that rope. The grief and anger he’d been carrying all these years, festering in silence , finally snapped free and once it did, there was no stopping it.

Does he regret it? Not at all. He has had enough.

And yet, there’s no relief in it either. His chest doesn’t feel lighter. His mother is still gone. Nothing he screamed at Junghyung will ever bring her back. He’ll never get that one last goodbye, never stand by her casket, never feel her presence in a room again. That ache remains, gnawing at him.

If his father really cut him off, Taehyung thinks he’d feel relief. Freedom, even. But he knows Junghyung won’t. That would make headlines, tarnish the perfect image he works so hard to uphold. No, Junghyung will punish him in other ways, quiet, suffocating ones.

For now, it’s the cards. Which means Taehyung needs to figure out his own way forward. Work, maybe. The memory of that one shift he covered for Yeji with Jungkook flashes in his mind, and he shivers. It was exhausting but still better that than crawling back to his father, begging. If this is what it takes, he’ll do it.

He reaches for his phone on the nightstand. A few messages from Minji. A few from Jimin. His brow furrows when he sees several missed calls from Namjoon. He had deleted the number months ago, but the digits are etched into his memory.

He clicks on Jimin’s texts first.

 Jimin: Come to my place tonight. We’re doing a movie night.

Taehyung types back a quick okay and almost puts the phone down. But his thumb hovers, then moves on its own, opening Namjoon’s thread.

Namjoon: Are you okay?

Taehyung-ah

Can you send me your location?

I want to make sure you’re okay

Please

Taehyung stares at the words, at the small, blinking cursor waiting for him to respond. His chest tightens but he doesn’t let himself linger. He presses back, closes the messages and drops the phone onto the bed like it burns to hold.

Jimin’s apartment smells like butter and garlic, the warm crackle of popcorn filling the air. The coffee table in the living room is already piled with cushions and blankets, ready for movie night. From the kitchen, clinking bowls and the hiss of something frying carry faintly, Jimin bustling around while Taehyung stands beside him, chopping vegetables in quiet rhythm.

Hoseok leans lazily against Taehyung’s shoulder, half hugging him, half just using him as a prop. His chatter with Jimin drifts past Taehyung like static  until Jimin suddenly asks,

 “When are Yoongi-hyung and Jeonggukie coming?”

Taehyung stills, knife pausing mid cut. He blinks, turning his head.

“Wait they’re coming too?”

Jimin frowns, glancing up from the pan. “I literally mentioned it in the texts, Taehyung. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Taehyung blinks again, as though surfacing from water. He forces a nod, lips curving into something faintly reassuring.

“Yeah. Right. Must have slipped my mind.”

Hoseok crouches down to Taehyung’s level, peering at him like he’s examining a specimen. “And… you’re okay with that, right?”

“Yeah…” Taehyung says slowly. “Of course.” The lie feels heavy on his tongue.

“Like you should be,” Jimin adds pointedly.

The truth is, Taehyung hates changes. Movie nights have always been his comfort, his safe haven and now, with two new people joining, the edges of that comfort feel disturbed. He hates when things shift.

“Well, Jeongguk looked very excited,” Hoseok says cheerfully.

Jimin giggles, eyes bright. “He couldn’t believe it when I asked him to join. Then he gave me the biggest smile, he practically skipped all the way back home. Made me feel guilty for not inviting him sooner.”

“Poor kid.” Hoseok’s lips curve. “After everything that happened last year, I’m glad he seems better now.”

“Yeah,” Jimin says softly. “I think… a lot of people just stopped talking to him.”

“We should’ve made him feel more included,” Hoseok murmurs.

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees, “but we only met him a few months ago.”

“That’s true,” Hoseok says, “but still. Nothing wrong with putting in effort. Making him feel like we don’t give a damn about those stupid rumors.”

“Exactly,” Jimin nods. “Fuck the rest for treating him like that.”

Their voices fade in and out for Taehyung. He realizes again with a faint jolt that he doesn’t actually know what happened to Jeongguk last year. All he’s ever caught are fragments of gossip, rumors about Jeongguk dating some guy from uni and people making a fuss over it. Which to Taehyung is absurd. Who cares who he dated? People should mind their own damn business.

“So how’s your project going with Jeongguk?” Jimin asks, pulling Taehyung back into the conversation.

“Good,” Taehyung answers quickly, shrugging.

“That’s all?” Hoseok presses. “Come on, tell us more.”

Taehyung frowns slightly. “We met once. Talked it over. Discussed what we’re going to do for the project.”

“Cool,” Hoseok hums.

“I’m glad you two are getting along,” Jimin says warmly, giving Taehyung’s shoulder a squeeze.

Before Taehyung can respond, the doorbell rings.

“Can you get that, Taehyung-ah?” Hoseok asks.

Taehyung nods, wiping his hands on a dish towel as he heads for the door. The bell rings again, sharp and impatient and he immediately thinks, Yoongi. Definitely Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t strike him as the impatient type.

When he opens the door, his guess proves right. Yoongi stands there, beanie already half off, expression bored. He mutters a flat hello, not even a smile, before brushing past into the apartment.

Taehyung frowns at his retreating back. What an ass.

Then his gaze shifts and it lands on Jeongguk.

Where Yoongi is dull edges and monotone, Jeongguk is the opposite. His eyes are wide and shining, a grin tugging at his mouth, nose scrunching up with unfiltered excitement. He looks like coming here, for a simple movie night, might just be the highlight of his week. In his arms, he carries several plastic bags from the convenience store, clutched like treasures.

“Hey,” Taehyung says before he can stop himself. He feels his own lips curve into a smile, mirroring Jeongguk’s brightness. There’s something about the boy’s innocence, his unhidden joy it’s disarming.

“Hi,” Jeongguk says, rocking on the balls of his feet, energy sparking off him like an overgrown puppy who doesn’t quite know what to do with his enthusiasm.

“Come in.”

Taehyung steps aside and Jeongguk bobs his head quickly, entering with careful steps.

By then, Jimin and Hoseok have emerged from the kitchen.

“What’s all that, Jeongguk?” Hoseok asks, smiling as he eyes the bags.

Before Jeongguk can answer, Yoongi’s dry voice cuts in from the couch. “What do you think? He was too excited, couldn’t stop. ‘Hyung, should I get this?’ ‘Hyung, Taehyung-hyung likes this maybe I should grab it.’ He wouldn’t shut up.” Yoongi’s eyes flick toward Taehyung.

Taehyung’s mouth parts slightly. His gaze snaps to Jeongguk who is already flushing crimson, ears red.

“You promised you wouldn’t–” Jeongguk mutters at Yoongi, cheeks puffing in embarrassment.

Yoongi only smirks and shrugs.

Taehyung blinks, curiosity prickling. “Uh… how did you know I love those shrimp chips?”

Jeongguk’s wide eyes dart to him before dropping quickly away. His voice comes out softer, almost shy. “You… I mean, every time I pass you at uni, you’re… munching on them.”

“Oh.”

The simple word feels heavier than it should. Taehyung is oddly touched.

“Wow, isn’t that cute,” Jimin coos, pinching Jeongguk’s cheek.

“Hyung!” Jeongguk swats his hand away, pouting as he retreats a step. His ears are still burning.

And Taehyung doesn’t know why but warmth unfurls in his chest. Something about Jeongguk noticing such a small, ordinary detail about him feels… intimate.

“And… and the burgers, they’re this huge.” Jeongguk raises his hands apart to show the size, eyes wide with exaggerated seriousness. “They’re from this one restaurant I really like. I think you’ll all love them too so… yeah.” His voice trails off as his gaze flicks across the group. When his eyes land on Taehyung, his head ducks quickly, cheeks coloring.

Taehyung catches himself smiling softly at the sight. He isn’t the only one, everyone else seems equally charmed.

“I was the one who brought them anyway,” Yoongi mutters.

Jeongguk frowns immediately. “Yeah but only because you never let me pay.”

“That’s because you never ask,” Yoongi chuckles. “Not once have you said, ‘Hyung, let me pay this time.’”

Jeongguk’s pout returns full force and Taehyung finds himself entertained by their easy bickering.

“Well, you are the hyung,” Hoseok teases, “so I’m glad you’re the one footing the bill, not Jeongguk-ah.”

That earns Hoseok a wide, relieved smile from Jeongguk, who nods gratefully.

“Okay,” Jimin cuts in, clapping his hands. “Taehyung, help me get the food to the living room. The rest of you settle down and pick a movie.”

A chorus of “okay”s ripple out and Taehyung trails Jimin back to the kitchen. When they return with trays of food, the others are already sprawled across the couch, Yoongi dead center, Hoseok tucked against one side, Jeongguk perched nervously on the other. Jimin slides onto the floor, leaving only one open spot… right next to Jeongguk.

Taehyung exhales a quiet sigh before dropping down beside him.

From the corner of his eye, he catches Jeongguk’s entire body go subtly rigid.

It’s almost imperceptible, the way he straightens as if caught off guard, hands immediately drifting to the hem of his oversized hoodie where his fingers begin absentmindedly fidgeting with the fabric. His knee bounces restlessly for a second, quick and nervous, before stilling the moment his thigh accidentally brushes against Taehyung’s.

The contact is brief but it’s enough to turn the tips of Jeongguk’s ears a deep shade of red.

He quickly leans forward under the flimsy pretense of grabbing a drink from the table, head ducking low as if hiding his face from view.

Taehyung pretends not to notice.

He reaches for a soda, settles back into the couch, and keeps his gaze fixed firmly ahead , even though the warmth lingering where their legs touched makes him suddenly, inexplicably aware of how little space there actually is between them.

Across the room, Jimin grabs the remote and raises it triumphantly above his head.

“Notebook!” he crows, like someone announcing the winning lottery numbers.

A collective groan erupts immediately.

Taehyung’s is by far the loudest.

“We agreed on Star Wars!”

“Shut up and be grateful I’m gracing you with the notebook,” Jimin retorts with a smug grin.

“Whatever, dude.”

“You haven’t seen it before?” Jeongguk asks suddenly, turning toward him.

Taehyung shakes his head. “Nope. Not really into romance.”

Jeongguk’s brows furrow. “That’s… sad.”

Taehyung laughs under his breath. “Sad? That’s a first.”

“Let me guess,” Jeongguk presses, “you’re the type who doesn’t believe in love or something?”

Their eyes lock and for a second Taehyung forgets to breathe. Jeongguk chews his bottom lip, his lip ring catching in the dim light and Taehyung’s gaze flickers down without permission.

“Wait.” Taehyung leans in slightly. “Did you get another piercing?” He points at the new silver stud glinting right beside the ring.

Jeongguk’s hand flies up, fingertips brushing over it. “Uh… yeah.” His smile is shy, almost self conscious. “You noticed.”

Taehyung shrugs, trying and probably failing to look casual about it. “Well—”

“Shut up, the movie’s starting” Jimin interrupts, smacking Taehyung’s thigh.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but when he glances sideways, Jeongguk is giggling. Against his will, Taehyung smiles too.

The movie unfolds exactly as Taehyung expects, over the top romance, dramatic separations, the kind of love that feels more fantasy than reality. Still he finds himself oddly entertained, especially watching how everyone else reacts. Hoseok leans his head against Yoongi’s shoulder, Jimin is predictably on the floor, tissues ready.

Beside him, Jeongguk can’t stay still. He hums, sighs, mutters little noises of sympathy or disbelief. It should be distracting but strangely Taehyung doesn’t mind.

By the time the credits begin to roll, the room has fallen into that strange quiet that always follows a sad movie, soft sniffles replacing the earlier laughter and chatter, the glow of the television washing everything in pale blue light. Taehyung doesn’t even need to look to know what’s happening, the sound alone is enough.

Almost on instinct, he reaches for the tissue box sitting on the coffee table and pulls one free before passing it down the couch toward Jimin, who accepts it wordlessly, his gaze never leaving the screen as he dabs beneath his eyes. It’s routine at this point, predictable enough that Taehyung barely thinks about it.

Across the room, Yoongi sits with his usual stoic expression, face unreadable as though the movie hadn’t touched him at all, while Hoseok’s lips tilt downward in a small, wounded pout that suggests he’s trying very hard not to cry.

But when his eyes drift to Jeongguk, he pauses.

Actually pauses.

Jeongguk looks… devastated.

His lashes are damp, clumped together by tears that haven’t quite fallen yet, and the light from the television catches on the moisture, making his eyes shine in a way that feels almost painfully vulnerable. His lower lip trembles faintly as though he’s trying to hold himself together, and heartbreak seems etched into every soft line of his face.

And then Taehyung notices something absurdly small.

At the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth, a faint dusting of popcorn powder clings to his skin.

The gesture happens before Taehyung even realizes he’s decided to do it.

His hand lifts, moving through the dim light until his thumb brushes gently against the corner of Jeongguk’s lips.

Jeongguk startles immediately, his body flinching backward in surprise, and Taehyung freezes where he is, suddenly aware of the intimacy of what he’s just done.

For a suspended moment neither of them moves, their eyes locking in a silence that feels strangely delicate, as though something fragile has settled between them and neither of them quite knows how to handle it.

And then almost imperceptibly, Jeongguk leans forward.

Just enough that the corner of his mouth brushes lightly against Taehyung’s fingers again.

Taehyung’s breath catches in his throat.

Slowly, carefully, he finishes wiping away the rest of the powder, his thumb lingering a fraction longer than necessary before he finally pulls his hand back, suddenly unsure what to do with it.

“Um…” His voice comes out quieter than he intended, rough with awkwardness as he gestures vaguely toward Jeongguk’s mouth. “You had… popcorn dust.”

Jeongguk blinks at him, still looking slightly dazed.

“Oh,” he murmurs after a second, the word soft and breathy.

When Taehyung withdraws his hand completely, Jeongguk’s tongue darts out quickly to wet his lips before he looks away, a faint flush creeping up the back of his neck.

“Um… thanks,”

Taehyung swallows, leaning back against the couch as if nothing unusual has happened, “You’re welcome.”

They both face the screen again. From the corner of his eye, Taehyung catches Jeongguk yawning, pulling his knees up on the couch. His nose scrunches adorably as he does and Taehyung feels warmth unfurl in his chest again.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker toward the interaction, but his expression is unreadable as always.

Taehyung tries to decipher what might be running through his mind but the blankness gives nothing away. He lets it go and turns his attention back to the screen.

Later, during dinner, Taehyung takes a bite of the burger Jeongguk had brought for everyone, expecting nothing more than the usual late-night takeout. The moment he sinks his teeth into it, though, he pauses mid-chew, brows knitting together in quiet surprise as the flavor spreads across his tongue, rich and perfectly balanced in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

For a second he just sits there, processing.

Then he takes another bite.

And another.

Within minutes he’s devouring the burger with an enthusiasm that makes any attempt at composure completely pointless, shoulders hunched forward as he eats with the kind of single-minded focus usually reserved for people who haven’t had a proper meal in days.

The fries disappear just as quickly, one after another, and it isn’t until he finally glances up that he realizes someone has been watching him the entire time.

Jeongguk.

Jeongguk is looking at him with softness. There’s a quiet fondness in his expression, the corners of his mouth curved upward in a small, pleased smile as though Taehyung’s enthusiasm is somehow gratifying to him. It’s such an openly affectionate look that Taehyung feels something uncomfortable twist in his chest, something unfamiliar enough that his first instinct is to break the moment entirely.

He looks away.

“It’s from this ahjumma’s shop near the station,” Jeongguk says after a moment, his voice bright with pride, as though he’s personally responsible for the quality of the meal. “She makes the best burgers and fries in the city. I swear nothing else even comes close.”

Taehyung hums thoughtfully as he finishes the last bite, committing the vague description of the place to memory without meaning to, already deciding somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll find it again someday just to taste that burger one more time.

“Then we should all go there sometime,” Hoseok suggests from across the table, already reaching for another fry.

“Yeah,” Jimin agrees immediately, nodding with enthusiasm. “Field trip.”

Jeongguk laughs at that, the sound light and easy as the conversation drifts into plans that may or may not ever happen, everyone tossing around ideas about which day would work best and what else they could do afterward.

Taehyung listens with half an ear, leaning back in his chair, the warmth of the room settling around him.

Later, once the food is gone and the easy chatter begins to fade, he slips quietly out onto the balcony with a cigarette tucked between his fingers.

The night air is cool when he steps outside, brushing softly against his skin as he leans his forearms against the railing and flicks his lighter open. The flame flares briefly in the darkness before disappearing again, leaving the faint glow of the cigarette tip as the only small ember in the quiet.

From up here, the city stretches endlessly in every direction.

There are no stars visible tonight, just an ocean of lights spilling across the skyline, windows glowing in warm yellow squares and streetlamps tracing long winding paths through the dark streets below.

Somewhere in the distance an ambulance wails faintly, its siren rising and falling before slowly fading into the background hum of traffic. Car horns blare now and then from far below, impatient bursts of sound that echo between the buildings.

Taehyung exhales slowly, smoke curling into the cool air as his gaze drifts from one lit window to another.

He finds himself wondering, idly, about the lives unfolding behind them.

What people are doing in those rooms. Whether they’re laughing with friends, arguing over dinner, watching movies on couches just like the one inside.

Whether they’re lonely.

Whether they’re happy.

The thought lingers longer than he expects before he flicks ash over the railing, the ember at the end of his cigarette glowing briefly in the dark as the city continues to breathe quietly around him.

The soft click of the balcony door opening behind him pulls Taehyung out of his wandering thoughts.

For a brief moment he assumes it’s Yoongi again but when the quiet shift of footsteps reaches him, lighter and more hesitant than Yoongi’s ever are, Taehyung glances over his shoulder.

It’s Jeongguk.

Jeongguk’s eyes drop immediately to the cigarette resting between Taehyung’s fingers, his gaze lingering there.

Taehyung notices, of course. And brings the cigarette to his lips anyway.

He inhales slowly, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling in a thin stream that drifts upward into the night air, the faint glow at the tip brightening and fading with the motion.

From the corner of his eye he sees Jeongguk’s gaze follow the movement, tracking the cigarette, the rise of Taehyung’s hand, the curl of smoke leaving his mout —before Jeongguk seems to realize what he’s doing and quickly looks away, as though he’s been caught staring at something he shouldn’t.

The silence stretches long enough that Taehyung feels the need to break it.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Hey.”

Jeongguk startles a little at the sound, blinking as though he’s just been pulled out of a daydream he hadn’t realized he’d slipped into.

“Hi,” he says quietly, the word almost a whisper.

After a moment he steps closer, moving to stand beside Taehyung at the railing. The metal is cool beneath their hands as they lean against it, the city lights spread out below them like scattered stars.

For a while neither of them says anything.

Then Jeongguk speaks again, his voice softer now, thoughtful in a way that suggests he’s been holding onto the question for a while.

“You know,” he says slowly, “you never answered my question back then.”

Taehyung tilts his head slightly, glancing at him with mild curiosity. “What question?”

Jeongguk’s fingers curl loosely around the railing as he looks out at the city, his lashes lowering just a little.

“Whether you believe in love or not.”

For a moment Taehyung doesn’t answer.

He simply stares ahead, watching the distant headlights moving along the roads below, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he flicks the ash from his cigarette over the railing.

“I think love is stupid.”

The words come easily, almost lazily, like a conclusion he reached a long time ago and never felt the need to reconsider.

Beside him, Jeongguk frowns slightly, though there’s still a trace of a smile lingering on his lips, as if he finds the bluntness more intriguing than offensive.

“Why do you think that?” he asks gently.

Taehyung lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath, shaking his head as he glances sideways at him.

“What’s with you trying so hard to figure out my opinion on love?”

Jeongguk hesitates.

“I…” He trails off, clearly searching for the right words before finally giving a small shrug, his shoulders rising and falling. “I just want to understand you.”

Something about that answer makes Taehyung’s mouth curve upward before he can stop it.

It’s a small smile, quick enough that he manages to hide most of it by bringing the cigarette back to his lips.

“Well,” he says after a moment, exhaling slowly into the cool night air, “I think Allie should’ve stayed with the rich guy instead of running back to Noah.”

Jeongguk blinks at him, clearly thrown by the sudden change in direction.

For a second confusion clouds his face then realization slowly dawns as he remembers the movie they had just finished watching.

“Oh,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Taehyung continues with a casual shrug, as though the logic is obvious. “I just feel like they probably fought all the time. People like that always do. I don’t see something like that actually lasting.”

Jeongguk shakes his head slowly, the faint smile on his lips deepening .

“But she loved Noah,” he says, his voice certain, as though the answer should have been obvious all along. “That’s what mattered most. Just because two people argue, or don’t agree on everything, doesn’t mean they can’t love each other..If anything, it kind of proves the opposite, doesn’t it? That they’re willing to stay even when it’s difficult… that they choose each other in spite of all the things that could push them apart. And sure, Noah didn’t have money,” Jeongguk goes on with a small shrug, “but money isn’t everything. Allie was happier with him, you could see it. The way she looked at him, the way they laughed together… it felt real. They made memories worth keeping, even if she couldn’t remember them in the end. Somewhere, deep down… I think she still did.”

The words settle into the night air between them, lingering there in a way that feels unexpectedly delicate. Jeongguk draws in a quite breath like he is only realizing now how much of himself he’s revealed.

Taehyung watches him for a moment in silence.

Then a smile slowly spreads across his face.

A soft laugh escapes him as he shakes his head.

“What?” Jeongguk asks immediately, glancing at him with a nervous little laugh of his own, clearly unsure whether he’s said something embarrassing.

Taehyung turns toward him slightly, studying him in the dim light. The breeze ruffles through Jeongguk’s hair, lifting a few dark strands off his forehead.

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Taehyung says, the amusement clear in his voice.

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open in disbelief.

Color blooms across his cheeks almost instantly, a soft pink spreading up the back of his neck as he turns his head away, suddenly very interested in the skyline.

Taehyung throws his head back with a quiet laugh.

“You are.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, though the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrays him completely.

“And what if I am?” he shoots back, trying to sound defensive.

Taehyung smirks at that, the expression slow and teasing as he taps the ash from his cigarette over the railing.

“So if you were her,” he asks casually, glancing sideways at him, “you would’ve done the same thing?”

Jeongguk doesn’t even hesitate.

He shrugs easily, as though the answer is the simplest thing in the world. “Of course.”

Taehyung lets out a quiet huff of laughter, the smirk still playing on his lips as he leans his elbows against the railing again.

“See?” he says lightly. “Love makes you do stupid things.”

“What about you?” Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung exhales slowly, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the skyline.

“I’d probably choose whatever…” he pauses briefly, searching for the word, “…feels safe.”

Beside him, Jeongguk hums softly, the sound thoughtful. His fingers trace absentminded patterns along the railing as he tilts his head slightly.

“So what if love felt safe?”

Taehyung looks down at the cigarette in his hand for a moment before pressing the glowing tip against the metal railing, grinding it out slowly until the ember fades to nothing. When he finally speaks again, his voice is quieter, the usual teasing edge softened into something more contemplative.

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“Hey,” Jeongguk protests immediately, his brows drawing together as he turns toward him, “you can’t just leave me hanging like that.”

Taehyung glances at him and then bursts into laughter.

The sound rings out across the quiet balcony.

“Jeongguk-ah.”

“Hm?” Jeongguk perks up almost instantly at the sound of his name, looking at him with open attentiveness.

Taehyung leans back against the railing, folding his arms loosely across his chest as his expression shifts into something more curious.

“How do you even know when you’re in love?”

The effect is immediate.

Jeongguk falters.

His teeth catch lightly on his lower lip as his gaze flickers away toward the distant buildings, his shoulders drawing inward as though Taehyung has accidentally backed him into a corner he didn’t expect to face.

“What if,” he continues, “someone comes up to you tomorrow and says they want to date you?”

Jeongguk’s fingers tighten slightly around the railing.

“You like that person,” Taehyung goes on, watching him carefully now, “but you’re not sure if their feelings are real. Maybe they’re just bored. Maybe they only want something casual. What do you do?”

“I…” Jeongguk’s voice falters.

He swallows hard, the motion visible in the dim light.

“I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

Taehyung’s brows lift slightly. “Why not?”

Jeongguk hesitates again, clearly wrestling with something he’d rather leave unsaid.

“Because—”

He finally turns to look at Taehyung, his expression almost pleading now, like he’s hoping the other man will understand without forcing him to spell it out.

“Do I really have to say it?”

“Yes.”

The answer comes immediately.

Jeongguk’s gaze slips away once more, embarrassment creeping across his face as he stares down at the streetlights below.

“People don’t really want to date me,” he murmurs quietly.

Taehyung’s brows knit together slowly as he studies Jeongguk’s face.

The sincerity there is almost disarming.

Jeongguk isn’t joking or fishing for reassurance, the words had come out too quietly, too honestly for that. His expression is open in a way that feels almost painfully vulnerable, like he genuinely believes what he just said.

For a moment, Taehyung wonders if it’s because of what happened last year,  or if it has something to do with Jeongguk’s preference , something that probably makes people treat him differently, judge him before they ever bother to know him.

Either way, the thought irritates him. Because none of it makes sense.

Jeongguk is attractive in that effortless way people usually spend hours trying to achieve without success. He’s kind, unfailingly polite, the sort of person who remembers small things about people and checks in when they’re having a bad day.

He’s funny, too, even if it’s often in that soft, slightly awkward way that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

Who wouldn’t want him?

“I don’t think that’s true,” Taehyung says finally, his voice firm enough that Jeongguk turns toward him immediately.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I think a lot of people would want to date you,” Taehyung continues, the certainty in his tone making it sound less like an opinion and more like a simple statement of fact. “And if you’re talking about people at uni, most of them have trash taste anyway.”

A faint scoff escapes him as he gestures vaguely toward the city below.

“Honestly, it’s probably a blessing they don’t bother you.”

Then he pauses, his expression softening slightly as he looks back at Jeongguk.

“But…” he adds more quietly, “I think plenty of people would love to have you as their boyfriend.”

The effect of the words is immediate.

Jeongguk’s lips part as though he’s about to respond, but no sound comes out. His eyes go round, wide with disbelief, like the compliment is far too big for him to hold all at once. Taehyung watches the reaction with mild confusion, unable to understand what could possibly be so shocking about the idea.

Whoever managed to convince him he wasn’t worth wanting clearly did a thorough job.

“I…” Jeongguk’s gaze drifts uncertainly across Taehyung’s face, lingering there as if searching for some sign that he’s joking. His voice cracks faintly when he finally manages to speak. “Thanks.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker briefly to the faint bruise still lingering against Jeongguk’s skin.

It’s almost healed now, the dark color faded to a dull shadow that will probably disappear completely within a few days, but the sight of it still sends a small spark of irritation through him.

He smiles anyway, soft and reassuring.

“Always.”

Turning back toward the railing, Taehyung rests his forearms against the cool metal and lets his gaze wander out over the city again. The lights stretch endlessly into the distance, glowing like scattered constellations against the dark horizon.

But even with his back half turned, he can still feel it.

Jeongguk’s gaze resting on him.

After a long moment, Taehyung exhales a small laugh under his breath, shaking his head slightly as if he’s just realized something mildly ridiculous.

“You know…” he says thoughtfully, “maybe you’re right about the movie.”

Jeongguk shifts beside him, clearly caught off guard by the sudden change in tone.

“Maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all,” Taehyung continues, glancing out over the city as he speaks. “She was happy. That’s what matters, right?”

When he finally turns his head to look at Jeongguk again, the younger man is already watching him.

And smiling.

The kind of smile that transforms his whole face, warm and open in a way that makes the city lights behind him seem dull by comparison, like they’ve somehow reflected themselves in his eyes and decided to stay there.

Chapter Text

Taehyung has never had to worry about money.

Maybe he’s had to worry about a thousand other things  but money? Never that. Being born into a family like his means certain things are guaranteed. When your father runs one of the biggest hotel chains in the country, when your family name opens every door before you even knock, money simply ceases to exist as a problem.

But privilege comes with its own price tag.

When he was a kid, he didn't notice the strings being tied. He just knew he could have whatever toy he wanted, ask the chefs to cook whatever he was craving, stay up late watching cartoons on a home theater bigger than most living rooms. He thought that’s just life. It was only when he started going to school, seeing how other kids live, that the realization crept in, this wasn't normal. He was lucky.

At least, that’s what he thought until he grew up enough to understand what luck costs. Until he saw his mother flinch when his father raised his voice. Until he heard the way his father talked about them , his children  like assets instead of people. Until he realized every inch of his “luck” come with invisible chains attached.

Now, after the fight with his father, for the first time, he’s free.

At least, that’s what he tells himself , free from his father’s control, free to make his own choices, free to finally breathe and for a few weeks, it feels good. No calls. No orders. No lectures disguised as “advice.”

Then with his cards being blocked and his bank account starting to thin out. suddenly, freedom comes with its own kind of panic.

Taehyung doesn’t know how to budget. He has never had to. He doesn’t know how to stretch money, how to choose between groceries and gas, how to stop himself from ordering takeout just because he’s tired. He’s learning now  the hard way , that independence has fine print.

And that fine print says "you need a job"

The problem? He doesn’t know where to start. What kind of job even makes sense for someone like him? He’s not about to work at a café again , one shift with Jeongguk was enough to tell him he’s not built for customer service.

He could ask Jimin for help but Jimin would worry too much, ask too many questions and Taehyung doesn’t have the energy to explain what he doesn’t even fully understand himself. Hoseok wouldn’t know either , born rich, just like him. Hyunwoo and the gang? He can already imagine their faces if he admits he’s broke. He would rather say "fuck self respect" and make amends with his father.

But he doesnt have to worry too much when one evening, his phone buzzes.

Jeongguk:

hey hyung remember those shoes u were talking about? they’re on sale

Taehyung stares at the message for a long second before an idea clicks.

He could ask Jeongguk. Not directly but maybe if they hang out, maybe if the timing’s right, he can bring it up casually.

He types before he can overthink it.

Taehyung:

hey do you want to hang out this weekend?

A reply comes quicker than expected.

Jeongguk:

huh hang out? you mean all of us?

Taehyung:

no. just you and me.

There’s a pause. The three blinking dots appear, disappear, then come back again.

Jeongguk:

oh

Taehyung:

it’s okay if you’re not free

Another pause , longer this time before his screen lights up again.

Jeongguk:

no no i’m free. i’d love to hang out. it’s just that…

i wasn’t expecting you to ask.

Taehyung frowns.

Taehyung:

why? we hang out, don’t we?

Jeongguk:

yeah but… with the others.

sorry, i didn’t mean to make it weird.

sure, i’d love to.

i’d like that very much, actually.

this weekend? what do you wanna do?

He can feel Jeongguk’s excitement in the words , it's almost childlike and guilt pools in his stomach because this isn’t supposed to be a favor. He does want to see Jeongguk but still… it feels wrong to mix motives with moments like this.

He takes a breath and pushes the guilt aside.

Taehyung:

i’ll pick you up at 10am.

it’s a surprise.

Jeongguk:

wow. can’t wait.

i’m excited.

and thank you, hyung.

The neighborhood Jeongguk lives in isn’t exactly well-off.

It’s not something Taehyung judges , it’s just an observation. The narrow streets, cracked sidewalks, paint peeling off gates, the occasional dog barking from behind rusted fences , it’s the kind of place that feels lived in, heavy with stories. Maybe that’s why Jeongguk asked him to wait by the bus stop near his house instead, said he would walk there to meet him but Taehyung refused.

Only when he insisted  and Jeongguk realized he wasn’t going to win did he finally send the exact location of his house.

Taehyung leaves earlier than planned. He isn’t familiar with this part of the city. By the time he finally finds the right street, he’s almost an hour early.

He figures he’ll just wait , maybe scroll through tiktok, maybe nap a bit. But before he can even unlock his phone, he sees movement ahead.

Jeongguk’s already outside.

He’s standing near the small front gate, dressed neatly, a crossbody bag slung over his shoulder, sneakers spotless despite the dusty street. His eyes are on the road, scanning , waiting.

Taehyung’s heart stutters when Jeongguk’s gaze catches on his car, widening in surprise as recognition hits.

There’s also a kid , maybe ten years old , clutching at Jeongguk’s pant leg, mouth slightly open as he stares at Taehyung’s sleek car like it’s a spaceship. Taehyung guesses it probably is because of the car.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Jeongguk bends down, says something to the boy. The kid frowns, shakes his head stubbornly. Jeongguk sighs, pats his head, and starts walking toward the car.

Guilt prickles under Taehyung’s skin again. Jeongguk’s so… eager. He was ready early , maybe way early  just because Taehyung asked to hang out and Taehyung can’t stop thinking about how this whole thing started with an ulterior motive.

He looks away, trying to school his face before Jeongguk reaches him.

The passenger door opens. A rush of cool morning air slips in along with the scent of Jeongguk’s clean laundry and faint cologne. He’s smiling , that wide, bright smile that makes Taehyung’s chest tighten  as he slides into the seat.

Jeongguk’s eyes dart around the car, taking everything in. The dashboard, the leather seats, the little charm hanging from the mirror. His hands hover, uncertain like he’s afraid to touch anything.

“You’re early,” Jeongguk says, voice light but shy.

Taehyung smiles faintly. “I could say the same.”

Jeongguk’s cheeks flush, and he drops his gaze, suddenly fumbling with the strap of his bag.

“I just… didn’t want you to wait,” he mumbles. “Better early than late, right?”

Taehyung glances out the window, where the little boy still stands with his arms crossed and a pout that looks exactly like Jeongguk’s.

“Is that your younger brother?”

Jeongguk follows his gaze, frowns when he sees the boy still there. “I told that punk to go inside.”

“He looks annoyed,” Taehyung observes, amused.

Jeongguk sighs and motions with his hands, mouthing go in while pointing toward the house. The kid only huffs and stomps his foot before finally trudging inside.

“He wanted to come closer and look at your car,” Jeongguk admits, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Why didn’t you let him?” Taehyung asks, genuinely surprised.

Jeongguk blinks at him, eyes wide. “You… you wouldn’t mind?”

Taehyung lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Of course I wouldn’t, Jeongguk.”

Something in Jeongguk’s expression softens like he’s both touched and unsure what to do with that kindness.

“Maybe when I drop you back, you can call him out,” Taehyung says gently.

Jeongguk’s lips press together, his smile dimming just a little. “Yeah… maybe,” he says, voice low but it doesn’t sound like a yes.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push it.

Instead, he starts the engine. “Shall we hit the road then?”

Jeongguk looks up, the corners of his mouth curving again  that same warm smile returning like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Let’s go.”

The drive takes about an hour.

Taehyung tells Jeongguk to get comfortable as he starts the engine, the hum of the car filling the silence. He taps the radio on, a soft pop song spilling through the speakers.

“You can change it if you want,” Taehyung says, eyes on the road. “Play whatever you like.”

But Jeongguk isn’t paying attention to the music. His head is tilted back, gaze fixed on the transparent sunroof above them , watching the sky blur by as the car glides out of the narrow lanes and onto the main road.

Taehyung glances at him from the corner of his eye. Jeongguk looks almost mesmerized, but hesitant, the kind of person who wants to touch everything but is too polite to actually do it. He reaches a hand toward the screen to change the song, then pulls it back just as quickly.

Taehyung laughs under his breath. “You know, you can stop being so freaked out.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps toward him, eyes wide. Then he shrugs, smiling sheepishly.

“To be honest hyung, everyone’s freaked out about your flashy car. People on the street were literally stopping and staring. So maybe you shouldn’t be so bothered about me.”

“Wait– people were actually staring?”

Jeongguk gives him a look, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “Hyung, everyone in my street stood like mannequins watching you pull up. You probably caused a traffic jam without realizing it.”

“They did?” Taehyung frowns, glancing at him before turning his attention back to the road.

Jeongguk exhales a soft laugh, voice dropping into something almost thoughtful. “Maybe you’re just used to attention. That’s why you didn’t notice.”

Taehyung presses his lips together. He doesn’t deny it  because Jeongguk’s right. He’s long stopped noticing the way people stare. At some point, it became background noise, as natural as breathing.

“And honestly,” Jeongguk continues, “a car like this doesn’t even belong in our neighborhood. If you would have waited a little more, people would’ve probably come up to take pictures with it.”

For a moment he thinks If he sold this car, he could live off the money for a few months. The thought comes uninvited, practical but sour. Still, he pushes it away. He’d rather find a job, earn on his own terms. And something about how Jeongguk lights up at every little thing, the car, the sky, even the radio makes him want to keep it, at least for now.

Taehyung hums. “That would’ve been fun. I’d have felt like a celebrity for a few minutes.”

Jeongguk grins, shaking his head. “You already are one, in a way.”

That makes Taehyung pause. He frowns. “No, I’m not.”

When he looks over again, Jeongguk’s rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. 

Taehyung blinks. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Jeongguk lets out a low laugh. “You are a celebrity, hyung. Everyone wants to be your friend. Everyone knows you. Which I didn’t think could even happen at university but… I guess it makes sense. You’re Kim Junghyun’s son, after all.”

The name hits like a stone dropped in still water.

Taehyung’s jaw tightens before he can stop it. His fingers curl harder around the steering wheel, knuckles pale. The air in the car shifts, just slightly , not heavy, but strained enough that Jeongguk must notice.

“I was joking,” Jeongguk says quickly. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Taehyung exhales slowly, unclenching his hands. His father’s name shouldn’t ruin his day.

“I know,” he says lightly, forcing a smile.

Then, after a pause, he glances sideways. “But tell me something, Jeongguk , do you feel lucky to be Kim Taehyung’s friend?”

He says it teasingly,  the practiced charm slipping back into place like armor. But even as he says it, he wonders if it’s true. If Jeongguk really is his friend. 

Jeongguk toys with a loose thread on his pants, eyes fixed on his lap. “Sometimes I really can’t believe it,” he says softly.

Taehyung glances over. “Believe what?”

“That…” Jeongguk hesitates, voice dropping even lower. “That we’re friends.”

Taehyung frowns. “Why do you feel that way?”

Jeongguk gives a half shrug, still not meeting his eyes. “Because someone like you doesn’t usually become friends with someone like me.”

Taehyung’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. He hates hearing that, being put on some imaginary pedestal that makes the other person feel small. It’s not the first time someone’s said it but it stings this time.

“What do you mean, someone like me?” he asks quietly.

Jeongguk finally looks up, his gaze tracing Taehyung’s profile as the passing sunlight cuts across his face. For a moment, he looks like he’s trying to memorize him. Then he sighs and turns back toward the window.

“If I talk about it,” he says, “you’ll know more. And I don’t want you to know more. Not right now.”

Taehyung frowns, glancing between the road and Jeongguk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeongguk shifts in his seat, sitting straighter. “It just means I wouldn’t expect someone like you to notice me. Or… want to be my friend.”

The words come before Taehyung can stop them. “But I like being your friend and I notice you.” His voice softens. “I see you, Jeongguk. I saw you and I think I’ll keep seeing you.”

He doesn’t look at Jeongguk after that but he can feel his eyes on him.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, just reaches for the screen again and finally changes the song. A bright, bubbly girl-group track fills the car, so poppy and cheerful that Taehyung can’t help smiling.

“You like songs like this?” Taehyung asks.

Jeongguk nods, lips pursed. “Yeah. Is that surprising?”

“A little,” Taehyung admits, laughing softly. “A guy who listens to Bloodwitch and heavy metal also likes poppy girl-group songs?”

Jeongguk smirks. “Why? Is there a rule that says I can’t like both?”

Taehyung chuckles, shaking his head. “No rule. I just find it… amusing.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Jeongguk asks, a touch of hesitation in his tone.

“Of course in a good way,” Taehyung says easily.

Jeongguk’s smile brightens instantly. “You know, I used to learn their dances too. Girl-group choreos and all that.”

Taehyung blinks, surprised and then grins. He can’t help it. Jeongguk is full of contradictions,  a boy covered in tattoos and piercings who listens to hard rock but dances to girl-group songs. Just when Taehyung thinks he has him figured out, Jeongguk throws something unexpected and endearing right at him.

“Maybe we can go to a dance class next time then,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk’s head jerks toward him, eyes wide. “Next time?”

Taehyung shrugs, pretending it’s casual even though his chest feels strangely warm. “Yeah.”

Jeongguk hides his grin behind his fingers, voice muffled. “Well… where are we going today then?”

“You’ll find out in thirty minutes,” Taehyung says, smirking.

Jeongguk’s lips curve into a pout. God, he pouts a lot and Taehyung has to bite back a laugh. “Sometimes I like surprises,” Jeongguk admits, “but right now I’m too curious to wait.”

“You’ll have to wait, Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung teases. Then, glancing sideways, “By the way, did you have breakfast?”

“Uh, about that…” Jeongguk rubs his neck sheepishly. “I packed us some sandwiches.”

For a second, Taehyung forgets to breathe. The image of Jeongguk, up early and carefully packing sandwiches for them, makes guilt crawl up his throat again because Jeongguk’s excitement is so genuine, and Taehyung’s reason for inviting him wasn’t.

He swallows hard, forcing a smile. “That’s so sweet. You’re a lifesaver, honestly. I’m starving.”

Jeongguk’s ears turn pink as he mumbles, “I’m glad,” and tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

Taehyung looks at him really looks and then turns his gaze back to the road before it lingers too long.

“Let’s stop by a gas station for some water bottles and snacks, yeah?”

“Sure,” Jeongguk says, still smiling.

They pull into a gas station off the highway. Taehyung kills the engine, slipping out with a quiet sigh.

“Go inside first,” he tells Jeongguk, nodding toward the convenience store. “Grab some snacks. I’ll fill the tank.”

Jeongguk nods and heads in, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. Taehyung watches him through the glass doors as he pumps gas, watches the way the boy drifts toward the counter, offering a small smile to the cashier. They’re talking. Jeongguk is… comfortable, almost easy in a way Taehyung rarely sees on campus. He has never seen Jeongguk initiating a conversation so this is different. 

And again, Taehyung wonders. If it’s because no one here knows him. Because there are no whispers, no rumors here.

He tries not to think about how heavy that must feel.

When he’s done, he steps inside. Before he can even call out, Jeongguk senses him, head lifting, shoulders straightening. He says one last thing to the cashier, then makes his way over.

“Hey,” Jeongguk says, pushing forward a small cart. “So… I got all these.”

Inside are snacks Taehyung always ends up munching . It’s almost funny how accurate it is.

“You got anything you like?” Taehyung asks, realizing he doesn’t actually know what Jeongguk snacks on.

“Mmh.” Jeongguk nods, lips pursed, dimples appearing. “Kind of.”

“And what is it that you like?”

“Nothing specific,” Jeongguk shrugs. “I like sweet stuff, though.”

“Okay then. Let’s get sweet stuff.” Taehyung takes the cart, guiding them down another aisle.

“I already took a few.”

“Then we’ll take a few more.”

Taehyung starts picking chocolates and desserts, holding them up for approval. Jeongguk nods every time, mumbling that it's enough, but Taehyung ignores him with a stubborn tilt of his mouth.

“Reese’s cup?” Taehyung asks, already halfway to tossing it in–

Jeongguk’s hand catches his wrist.

“If you like it, you can get it,” he says gently, “but I’m allergic to peanuts, so… yeah.”

“Oh.” Taehyung freezes, placing it back carefully. He makes a mental note, he doesnt know why he does that though.

Jeongguk giggles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I once had chocolate with peanuts by accident and almost choked and died.”

Taehyung stares. “What did you do after that?”

“Um… called Yoongi hyung.” Jeongguk shrugs, like the story isn’t terrifying. “If he wasn’t there, I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

Yoongi isn’t exactly in Taehyung’s good books but hearing that… it softens something. At least Jeongguk has someone protective in his corner. Someone who looks out for him. Jeongguk doesn’t strike Taehyung as helpless, far from it but still. It’s good that he has support.

“I’m glad you have Yoongi hyung,” Taehyung says quietly. “And I’m glad you’re okay too, Kook.”

Jeongguk startles.

Taehyung startles at Jeongguk startling. Because that nickname, he didn’t even think before saying it.

“Uh… sorry,” Taehyung blurts. “That just slipped–”

“No.” Jeongguk shakes his head quickly, cheeks going pink. “I… I like it.”

And it’s ridiculous how endearing Taehyung finds that. He shouldn’t. Usually that flutter hits when a woman blushes under his flirting, when he knows he’s had an effect on someone he actually means to charm.

But Jeongguk?

The satisfaction curling in Taehyung’s bones feels dangerous, so he shoves it down.

“Well,” Taehyung clears his throat, “you can call me Tae if you want. If I get to call you Kook.”

He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels shy.

“It’s gonna be your name anyway,” Jeongguk mutters with a small, coy smile.

 “What?”

“Tae-space-hyung. Taehyung.” Jeongguk points at him like he’s explaining some conspiracy board. 

“So just call me Tae hyung instead of Taehyung hyung.” Taehyung laughs.

 “And what about Taetae hyung?”

Taehyung freezes he notices the dead serious expression on Jeongguk's face. Taehyung almost believes he means it until the younger boy’s nose scrunches and he bursts into a giggle. The sound does something weird to Taehyung’s stomach.

“You’re teasing now?” Taehyung scoffs, unable to stop his own smile. “You think we’re that close for you to tease me?”

Jeongguk stops mid step, eyes widening like he touched a tripwire. Before any panic can bloom, Taehyung turns, face straight, then breaks into a laugh.

“Got you.” He reaches out and boops Jeongguk’s nose without thinking, the same way he does with Jimin.

He walks ahead.

But when the silence stretches, he glances back.

Jeongguk is standing there, fingers pressed to his nose, cheeks flushed.

Before Taehyung can decide what to do with that–

A voice interrupts.

“Hey, Jeongguk. I’m clocking out, finally.”

Taehyung turns to find the cashier boy from earlier, now in casual clothes and heading toward the exit. He bows lightly.

“It was nice talking to you,” the boy says. “Hope these deathly shifts get easier for all of us.”

Jeongguk laughs, soft and polite, exchanging a few more words. They say their goodbyes, and the boy leaves.

“Aren’t you a social butterfly?” Taehyung teases as he pushes the cart forward, Jeongguk falling into step beside him.

Jeongguk shoots him a flat look, the kind that only makes Taehyung chuckle.

“We just bonded over how bad these shifts are,” Jeongguk explains. “He said he had to cover because his coworker didn’t show and I said I could relate.”

Taehyung’s steps slow for half a second. Perfect opportunity for him to talk about jobs.

“You’re still working that night shift?” he asks as they reach the counter and start unloading items.

Jeongguk’s face brightens immediately. “Oh right. About that. I actually quit that convenience store job.”

Taehyung pauses, surprised. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Well… since Appa finally found a job, I don’t need to work two anymore. So I’m just at Caffeine Lab now.”

“Your dad wasn’t working before?” The question slips out before Taehyung can stop it.

Jeongguk stiffens, eyes dropping for a moment. Taehyung feels the boundary he just stepped over.

“He was… searching,” Jeongguk says quietly. “Now he has one.”

They finish paying and thank the guy behind the counter, heading back to the car. The air feels cooler, and Taehyung tries to soften what he can.

“That’s good,” he says as they walk. “Must take a lot of pressure off. You’re probably sleeping better now.”

Jeongguk grins. “Kind of? I mean, yes but also no. Because now I’m catching up on all the work I couldn’t do for that project.”

“Right,” Taehyung says, forcing a smile as he climbs into his seat.

Right.

Meaning Minji is probably drowning even more now that Jeongguk has time to get ahead.

Minji is smart, Taehyung knows that. But Jeongguk? Jeongguk must be something else entirely to stay top of the subject while juggling jobs and responsibilities that would break most people.

Taehyung starts the car. “And how’s the project coming along for you?”

Jeongguk buckles in, exhaling. “It’s… not easy. I’m struggling. But something’s forming, I think.”

He says it with a kind of ease Minji never has, a natural confidence that makes Taehyung’s chest tighten.

Minji is going to hate hearing that.

And as if that isn’t enough, Taehyung’s own reality thuds in his head. He needs a job. Badly.

“Hey, Jeongguk-ah,” he says once they’re back on the road. There’s still twenty minutes left of the drive.

“Hm?”

Taehyung swallows, eyes fixed ahead. “Do you… I mean… can you help me find a job?”

He sneaks a sideways glance. Jeongguk looks genuinely surprised.

“You want a job?”

“Yup.” He hopes, prays, Jeongguk doesn’t ask why.

And he doesnt.

“There was an opening at the counter in Caffeine Lab,” Jeongguk says thoughtfully, “but someone took that position already.”

“Oh.” Relief washes through him, he really didn’t want to work there. He wouldn’t last a week.

But then Jeongguk suddenly straightens, like a thought hits him full force.

“Oh! Hyung, wait I remember. Yoongi hyung was looking for someone. To help him organize stuff. Keeping track of schedules, deadlines, bookings… that sort of thing.”

“That’s… interesting,”

Absolutely not, is what he actually means.

“It is!” Jeongguk nods enthusiastically. “He wanted me to do it, actually. But when I said I wouldn’t take extra pay because he already pays me for recording demos, he refused.” Jeongguk pouts, and Taehyung imagines how Yoongi rejected that face.

“I’ll think about it,” Taehyung manages, forcing a smile. “But is there… any other job?”

Jeongguk’s expression falls. “Not that I know of right now, hyung but I’ll ask around for you, okay?”

Taehyung glances at him, then back at the road. “Thanks, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk beams at that.

And Taehyung…

Taehyung feels guilt crawl slowly under his ribs.

Because here he is, using Jeongguk

And he knows he’s so, so screwed if he doesnt find a job soon.

“Um… do… do you like it?” Taehyung asks.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer, not immediately. His mouth is parted, breath caught on something Taehyung can’t read.

Surprise?

Disappointment?

Shock?

Taehyung genuinely has no clue and that makes panic curl tight under his ribs.

“Hyung…” Jeongguk finally whispers.

“Yeah?” Taehyung says, voice wavering.

“Hyung…”

“Okay, Jeongguk-ah, I’m actually starting to freak out,” Taehyung blurts. “Do you like it or not?”

He doesn’t know why it matters so much, why his heart is thudding, why his palms feel warm. He’d picked this place on impulse. a wildflower field stretching open under the sun, grass brushing their knees, the air thick with the scent of warm earth and sweetness. Bees hum lazily somewhere far enough away not to bother them.

A tiny caravan sits in the middle of it all, flowers hanging upside down from the roof, a wooden sign that reads field & brush, and a small chalkboard menu promising food and canvases you can take into the field to paint.

He thought it would be cute. Something different.

He didn’t expect to care this much about Jeongguk’s reaction.

“I love it.”

Jeongguk’s voice shakes, just barely but it’s sincere, so painfully sincere that Taehyung exhales all at once.

“I’m glad,” he breathes out, shoulders loosening. “I was actually scared you’d hate painting. But hey, there’s food, and the view is really nice and I thought it would be fun and–”

Jeongguk tugs gently at Taehyung’s sleeve.

“Tae hyung… it’s perfect.”

Taehyung looks down at the hold, at Jeongguk’s fingers curled into the fabric. It’s barely a touch, but it feels like one or worse, like something more.

He swallows, nodding. “Good,” he says softly, smiling without meaning to.

“I just…” Jeongguk lets out a small, watery laugh. “I’m kind of speechless. I’ve never really visited a place like this. With… with friends. And no one has ever put this much thought into hanging out with me. So this is… really nice.”

He lets go of Taehyung’s sleeve.

Taehyung’s eyes linger on the empty space where Jeongguk’s hand had been, the faint weight of it still ghosting against him and suddenly he’s overwhelmingly glad he brought him here.

“We’ll make it a fun day,” Taehyung says, clearing his throat as he looks toward the caravan. “Want to go inside and order some food? Then we’ll grab canvases and paint outside?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk whispers. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They step inside, and a middle aged woman behind the counter greets them with a warm, honey soft smile. Taehyung returns it, and Jeongguk dips his head politely. They pick out their canvases, choose their paints and order milkshakes and sandwiches before heading back outside.

The sun is kind, warm, not harsh, golden enough to feel like a quiet blessing on their shoulders. The field isn’t crowded either. Taehyung guesses it’s because the place recently opened, not many people know about it yet but he can already imagine it becoming popular. It’s too peaceful not to be.

They walk farther until the distant chatter fades completely, reaching a small clearing where the flowers sway like a soft ocean stirred by a mild breeze. It feels like the world is making space just for them. They settle on the grass, their canvases propped in front of them.

Jeongguk stands still for a moment, just taking everything in with a gentle smile tugging at his lips. His hair is long today, loose and a little wild in the wind and only now does Taehyung realize Jeongguk put effort into this. The hair, the outfit, the subtle gloss on his lips catching the sunlight… it’s not how he usually dresses. It’s softer. Thoughtful. For a second Taehyung forgets to breathe.

Jeongguk sits down beside him with a small giggle.

“Looks like you’re enjoying this,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk turns, eyes bright. “I really am.” He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and lets the breath go slow. “This is… healing.”

“You a nature guy?” Taehyung asks, unable to hide his curiosity.

“I think I’m more of a home guy,” Jeongguk says, scratching the side of his neck. “But I might be a nature guy too. This is nice. I got so used to doing the same routine every day I forgot what it’s like to have fun and… just exist, you know?” He trails off, suddenly shy, as if he said more than he meant to.

And there it is again, that tug in Taehyung’s chest. Something he keeps pretending not to notice.

He clears his throat and looks away. “So what do you want to paint?”

Jeongguk grabs a paintbrush and taps it gently against his chin, thinking hard. Taehyung smiles despite himself. Jeongguk can be so animated, so whimsical without even trying.

Then Jeongguk’s face lights up, only for it to dim a moment later. “What if we… actually, never mind.”

Taehyung frowns. “What? No, tell me. You can’t just do that.”

Jeongguk bites his lip, looking down. “It’s silly.”

“Try me,” Taehyung says, rolling his eyes but softening his voice.

Jeongguk traces a finger along the blank canvas. “How about… we paint each other?”

Taehyung blinks and then a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face. “Wait… that actually sounds fun.”

“Really?” Jeongguk looks up, eyes wide, like he still can’t believe Taehyung chooses the things he wants.

“Yup.” Taehyung grabs his own canvas and brush. “Let’s do this.”

They settle into the field, cross legged among the flowers. The breeze moves gently around them, brushing through petals and grass, the only sound besides their quiet breathing. They sit facing each other, canvases propped up so neither can see the other’s work until the very end.

Since they’re painting each other, they keep looking up, capturing details, glancing away, meeting each other’s eyes by accident and breaking into shy smiles.

Taehyung wouldn’t call himself a great artist, but he’s decent enough. And Jeongguk’s features… they’re strangely easy. Taehyung’s brush finds the shapes without hesitation, the round eyes that always give him away, the tiny mole under his lower lip, the scar on his cheek that Taehyung has memorized without meaning to, the soft fall of his hair that keeps shifting in the wind. At some point he realizes the ease comes from familiarity, he knows Jeongguk’s face far better than he should.

Their food arrives quietly, the same kind woman placing the drinks and sandwiches before them. They thank her, and she leaves with a smile. The cold milkshake hits Taehyung’s tongue and makes everything feel ten times nicer.

When he looks up again, Jeongguk is in full concentration mode, a tiny sliver of tongue peeking from his mouth, brows furrowed. He hums low under his breath, satisfied with whatever he’s just painted and Taehyung’s mouth twitches.

Jeongguk looks up right then, eyes widening slightly when he catches Taehyung already watching him. A strand of hair blows into his face and he pushes it away with a fingertip, but the finger has paint on it. A stroke of color smears over his cheek.

This time Taehyung doesn’t stop his smile.

“What?” Jeongguk asks, voice holding a nervous wobble.

Taehyung tilts his head. “How much would you rate your artistic skill?”

Jeongguk bites his lower lip, his expression soft. “Probably a five?”

Taehyung nods slowly.

“What about you?” Jeongguk asks.

“Hmmm.” Taehyung pretends to think. “Probably a seven.”

Jeongguk blinks at him, surprised. “Oh, so you’re good then. Is that why you brought us here? So you could show off your artistic side?”

Taehyung throws his head back and laughs. He loves this version of Jeongguk, unguarded enough to tease him, light enough to let warmth spill everywhere.

“Well,” Taehyung says, “you’re good at everything, so maybe I did want to show off a little.”

Jeongguk giggles and turns back to his canvas, leaving strokes Taehyung can’t see yet. 

“I’m almost done, by the way,” Jeongguk mumbles.

“Me too,” Taehyung says, adding a few more careful details. “Make me look pretty, yeah, Jeongguk-ah?”

“I don’t have to do that.” Jeongguk’s voice is full of a smile.

Taehyung pauses. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Jeongguk says quickly.

Taehyung lets it slide, even though it lodges itself warmly in his chest.

“Do you have any requests, Kook?” The nickname slips out effortlessly. Jeongguk doesn’t even flinch, instead he hums thoughtfully. A butterfly drifts around his head, circling lazily, and Taehyung suddenly has the urge to freeze this moment forever, capture it, photograph it.

“Maybe just… don’t make me look round,” Jeongguk says shyly.

Taehyung stares at him before breaking into laughter, Jeongguk joining him.

“You won’t look like yourself then,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk gasps dramatically. “So you think I’m round?”

Taehyung shrugs, smirking. “It’s cute… man.”

Jeongguk gives him a small, flustered smile before returning to his painting. Taehyung does the same, though his chest feels suddenly too full, like the sunlight has slipped beneath his ribs.

When they finally finish, they sit facing each other with their canvases turned away, both smiling like they’re sharing a secret.

“Hyung… you show me first?” Jeongguk asks, voice soft enough that Taehyung forgets every instinct to insist the younger go first. Something about the way Jeongguk asks makes refusal impossible.

“Okay,” Taehyung whispers. He exhales slowly and turns his canvas toward Jeongguk.

Jeongguk’s eyes flick from Taehyung’s face to the painting and a small gasp escapes him. Something flickers across his expression, too quick for Taehyung to categorize, surprise, awe, something tender.

“Wow,” Jeongguk breathes, then lets out a disbelieving laugh that curls into a sharp inhale. “Are you kidding me? Hyung, you’re a ten.”

Taehyung blinks. “What?”

“You rated yourself a seven, but you’re a ten. You’re really, really good at this.”

Taehyung glances at his own work. He still thinks it isn’t anything extraordinary. But it does look like Jeongguk, that soft curve of his cheek, the round eyes, the little scar. That counts, right?

“You’ve made me look really… beautiful,” Jeongguk says quietly, smiling with a sweetness that melts straight through Taehyung’s chest.

Heat spreads up Taehyung’s neck, into his cheeks. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs before clearing his throat. “Now show me yours.”

The change in Jeongguk is immediate, panic crackles across his face. He clutches his canvas to his chest.

“No.”

“Huh?” Taehyung frowns. “What do you mean no?”

“I… I mean mine is so silly compared to yours.” Jeongguk’s words trip over themselves. “I thought we were just doing this for fun and mine is so stupid.”

Taehyung scoffs softly. “Yes, we did this for fun. So show me now.” He reaches out to grab the canvas, but Jeongguk scrambles to his feet, clutching it tighter.

“No, it’s stupid!” he whines.

“You can’t just not show me,” Taehyung says, standing too. “I want to see it.”

Jeongguk shakes his head stubbornly, lips pouted, hair bouncing with the movement.

Taehyung narrows his eyes. “If you don’t, then I’ll just have to snatch it from you.”

Jeongguk gasps dramatic and the next second he’s running, laughter spilling behind him as he sprints through the flowers, canvas hugged protectively against his chest.

“Jeongguk, stop!” Taehyung shouts, laughing as he takes off after him, wind rushing against his face. “Just show me!”

“Noooo!” Jeongguk yells, but Taehyung can hear the grin in his voice.

They run deeper into the field, the wildflowers and tall grass brushing against their knees, tickling their skin as they push through. Their laughter carries with the breeze.

Taehyung finally catches up, fingers hooking into the back of Jeongguk’s hoodie. His other arm wraps around Jeongguk’s waist without thought, momentum pulling the younger backward. Jeongguk’s back collides with Taehyung’s chest, stopping him abruptly but the sudden stop sends Taehyung off balance too.

They go down together in a soft tumble, landing in a cushion of flowers and grass. Taehyung ends up on top of Jeongguk, the impact knocking the air out of him, but neither of them stops giggling.

Taehyung still has his arms wrapped firmly around Jeongguk’s waist. Jeongguk’s head is thrown back on the grass, hair fanning out in messy waves, the breeze sweeping through it. The smear of paint on his cheek catches the light. He’s laughing, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders shaking and Taehyung’s breath catches somewhere high in his chest.

He smiles as he reaches for the canvas, and this time Jeongguk doesn’t resist. Taehyung turns it over and immediately bursts into laughter.

It’s the cutest portrait of him he has ever seen, almost chibi-like but still somehow accurate. All his moles included, all his features softened and rounded in the sweetest way. It’s adorable and Taehyung can’t stop smiling.

“It’s silly, isn’t it?” Jeongguk asks timidly.

Taehyung sets the canvas aside and looks down at Jeongguk still sprawled beneath him, hair splayed like a halo. “Are you saying I look silly, Kook-ah?”

Jeongguk blinks up at him, pouting. “No. You know what I mean.”

Taehyung giggles. “It’s cute. I look really cute. I think everyone needs a cutified portrait and they should learn it from you.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“I’m not!”

Their giggles overlap, softening into something quieter as they fall into stillness just staring at each other, the world around them fading into rustling flowers and warm wind.

And then Taehyung notices it one of his arms is still tucked beneath Jeongguk, anchoring them close. He also suddenly realizes just how close their faces are.

He clears his throat and pushes himself up awkwardly. Jeongguk sits up too, eyes flicking downward, cheeks pink for a reason Taehyung pretends not to examine.

“Uh… you have paint on your cheek,” Taehyung says, pointing.

“Oh.” Jeongguk rubs at his cheek, but his fingers keep missing the spot entirely.

“There,” Taehyung says, watching him try again, wrong again.

Before he can think twice, Taehyung reaches out. His hand cups Jeongguk’s face gently, thumb brushing over the smear of dried paint. Jeongguk freezes, eyes widening, looking up at him with the softest doe-eyed stare.

Taehyung keeps his touch light, careful but the moment feels heavy, almost fragile.

He doesn’t know why he runs his thumb over Jeongguk’s cheek twice more, even after the paint is clearly gone. His hand should drop away but it doesn’t. Not until the moment stretches too thin.

“It’s gone now,” Taehyung says softly, smiling before he forces himself to look away.

“Thanks,” Jeongguk murmurs.

For a while, they just sit there in the grass, talking about nothing and everything. The atmosphere is peaceful in a way Taehyung hasn’t felt in… a long time. No pressure, no noise in his head, no reminders of how messy his life feels lately. Just quiet. Just Jeongguk.

Jeongguk rambles about completely random things like how mermaids might actually be real and normally Taehyung would laugh at the ridiculousness, but right now he simply listens. And strangely, he enjoys every second of it.

They watch the sunset together, colors spreading across the sky, birds chirping somewhere far off. Eventually, they decide to head back.

When they’re near the caravan, almost at the car, the owner steps out with a sudden burst of energy.

“Hey, kids! Do you want me to take a picture?” she asks, already holding a Polaroid camera up, her excitement too adorable to refuse.

Taehyung looks at Jeongguk. Jeongguk’s eyes brighten immediately, his entire face lighting up.

“Okay,” Taehyung says, nodding. “Jeongguk?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, smiling. “I’d like that.”

They stand together, and Taehyung suddenly realizes he has no idea how to pose. His mind blanks. Acting on instinct, he raises his hands above Jeongguk’s head , and Jeongguk startles, looking up at Taehyung with wide eyes.

That’s when the lady snaps the picture.

“Here you go.” She waits a moment, then hands them the developing Polaroid. Jeongguk bows, mumbling a soft, thank-you.

They walk back to the car, the sky dimming around them. Once they’re inside, Jeongguk immediately starts shaking the photo, watching it slowly come to life.

Jeongguk plays something soft and nostalgic, something that suddenly makes Taehyung miss his mom, and the way things were when he was just a kid. They’re quiet for most of the ride, only commenting here and there. Like when Jeongguk sees a cool biker and gets excited, his mouth falling open as he watches, enough for Taehyung to ask if he likes bikes and Jeongguk immediately launches into the topic.

By the time they’re near Jeongguk’s home, it’s pretty dark. Most of the houses have their lights off, everyone probably asleep already since it’s Monday morning again tomorrow.

Taehyung cuts the engine when they stop in front of Jeongguk’s house.

Jeongguk unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at him. They smile at each other.

“Can… can I stay for two more minutes?” Jeongguk asks softly.

Taehyung nods. “Sure.”

“I just don’t want the night to end.”

And in that moment Taehyung realizes he doesn’t mind it ending late either that he enjoyed the day more than he expected. That he actually loved hanging out with Jeongguk more than he ever does with Hyunwoo and the others. That he could be himself with Jeongguk, because Jeongguk would never judge him.

“Me too,” he says.

Jeongguk smiles. “Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“This is the most fun I’ve had in a while, so… thank you for making today so fun and nice. I… I really enjoy spending time with you.”

And Taehyung is suddenly hit with so much guilt he nearly chokes on it, because Jeongguk’s “most fun day” shouldn’t be with him not when Taehyung has ulterior motives. Jeongguk shouldn’t be enjoying this so sincerely. Not when so much of it feels like a lie.

Before Taehyung can say anything, the porch light turns on and someone steps out.

Jeongguk turns around. A woman comes out onto the porch, probably his mother. His face tenses immediately.

“I’ll go then, hyung. Thank you again.”

He reaches out and grips Taehyung’s sleeve the one resting on the steering wheel. Taehyung wonders if this is Jeongguk’s way of showing affection.

Then the younger boy steps out and heads inside. Taehyung watches as Jeongguk doesn’t even greet the woman, the same sweet boy who smiles at everyone doesn’t even acknowledge her. The woman doesn’t greet him either, just watches him with a tight expression that makes something protective twist in Taehyung’s chest.

Then she looks at Taehyung’s car one last time before going inside and shutting the door.

Taehyung stares at the door for a few seconds before sighing. Something catches his eye, the Polaroid on the seat. He picks it up, Taehyung with a V above Jeongguk’s head, smiling, and Jeongguk looking at him with wide eyes, surprised but still smiling. The picture is so sweet he has to look away. He drops the Polaroid back onto the seat and drives off.

Things get bad.

Worse than Taehyung wants to admit.

It’s been three weeks and he still hasn’t found a job. Jeongguk keeps sending him listings, even walking him to a few places, but Taehyung turns down almost everything. He doesn’t understand how Jeongguk hasn’t already said fuck this and stopped trying. Some nights, Taehyung stares at the ceiling and wonders if he should just swallow his pride and take the job at Yoongi’s studio. It’s something he could do, something he might even be good at but Yoongi… Yoongi makes his skin prickle.

Money is disappearing faster than he can ration it. He’s barely going out anymore. He’s living off cheap ramen packets and whatever’s left in the back of his cupboard. It isn’t enough. The lack of real food, the isolation, the stagnant days, they’re all starting to fester inside him, twisting his thoughts until everything feels tight and bitter.

So when Nari texts him, you coming over? we’re getting high again he doesn’t think too hard before saying yes. He knows he shouldn’t spend money on weed. He knows he’ll hate himself tomorrow. But the idea of being high enough to forget, even for a little while, sounds like mercy.

He pushes open the door to Nari’s cramped room, and the air is thick, stale smoke, loud laughter.

“He’s alive!” Heeseung giggles as he slings an arm over Taehyung’s shoulders. His eyes are bloodshot, his grin sloppy. “Where the hell have you been, man? And wow you look like shit.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightens. He shrugs Heeseung off, pushing him back with more force than necessary.

Nari looks up from the floor, smiling as she gets to her feet, a bong dangling carelessly from her hand. “Taehyung-ah,” she says softly, reaching in for a hug.

He doesn’t lift his arms. His gaze drifts past her to Hyunwoo, who’s sprawled across the couch like a corpse, eyes closed, face glowing with hazy bliss.

A sharp wave of envy runs through him. He wants that. He wants nothingness. He wants quiet.

He exhales harshly, brushing past Nari. He doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in her eyes.

“Just give me the blunt,” he mutters.

Nari blinks, taken aback but hands it to him anyway.

Taehyung takes it without a thank you. 

He just needs the hit.

He just needs a moment where his own life doesn’t feel like it’s swallowing him whole.

As soon as Nari hands him the blunt, Taehyung is already climbing the stairs, moving past the noise and the haze and the clutter of the cramped house. He slips through the back door and steps into the night, lighting up before it even closes behind him. The first inhale hits his lungs with cold air and burning smoke, the mix grounding him just enough to loosen the knot in his chest.

But of course the universe hates him tonight.

Because there, in the pool, half submerged and glowing under the blue lights, is Nari’s brother.

Woobin.

Perfect.

There’s a glass of whiskey sweating on the tiles beside him. Taehyung’s mood sours instantly but going back inside feels worse, so he just sucks it up and drops into one of the deck chairs, hoping to become invisible.

Woobin doesn’t allow it. He looks over his shoulder, catches sight of Taehyung, and his mouth cracks into a lazy grin.

“Hey, man.”

Taehyung forces something like a smile and gives him a stiff nod, already taking another drag.

Woobin swims closer, propping his forearms on the edge of the pool. “Don’t mind me saying this,” he starts, “but I’ve been seeing you here a lot lately. You and Nari have something going on?”

Taehyung immediately makes a face. “No. Absolutely not. She’s just… she’s just a friend.”

And it’s true. Even if they’ve made out a couple of times, that’s all it ever was. A distraction and nothing more.

“Well,” Woobin says with a grin, “Nari talks a lot about you.”

Taehyung doesn’t take the bait. He inhales, exhales, lets the smoke curl into the night. If he ignores him long enough, maybe Woobin will get bored.

Instead, the guy pushes off, swims a slow lap across the pool, the water lapping rhythmically against the tiles. When he comes back, he wipes his face, sighs and says, “Just ask me already.”

Taehyung pauses with the blunt halfway to his mouth, blinking. “Ask you what?”

“ why I came back.”

Taehyung almost laughs. He could not care less why Woobin, his senior, Nari’s older brother, a boy with too much confidence decided to return. It is the absolute bottom of his priority list.

Woobin doesn’t wait for him to respond. He takes a swallow of whiskey, eyes drifting to some far off place.

“I felt out of control there,” he says quietly.

Taehyung doesn’t react.

But Woobin keeps going.

“I’m telling you this,” he says, turning his head, voice steady now, “because I see myself in you, Taehyung.”

Smoke slips from Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung raises a brow and then he laughs.

A loud, sudden, uncontrollable laugh that spills out of him in one messy wave.

Maybe it’s the weed, loosening his tongue and shaking something inside him free.

Woobin looks taken aback for a second, but he schools his expression quickly, settling back into that calm, unbothered composure he always seems to layer over himself.

“One day you’re doing well in uni,” he says, voice steady, “and the next you’re out in the real world, alone, away from everything you’ve ever known. Nobody treats you like a god. Nobody gives a shit about your status. It’s… shitty.”

Taehyung knows Nari’s family isn’t exactly struggling. Their business isn’t as big as his father’s empire but they’re still people whose last names mean something in certain circles in Seoul. 

“So what?” Taehyung licks his lips, dry from smoke. “You come running back just so you can feel powerful again? Because daddy’s got the money?”

The hypocrisy doesn’t escape him. He’s drowning without his father's money, barely holding on. But he needs to say something, anything to create distance. To make it clear he’s nothing like Woobin.

Woobin’s jaw locks, the muscle twitching once before he exhales, forces a smile.

Taehyung’s own smile fades.

There’s something… off about that smile. Something that makes his instincts tighten painfully.

“I bet you’re judging me,” Woobin murmurs, almost amused. “Thinking I’m a loser. But I know you’d come running too–”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Taehyung cuts him off sharply, the words rushing out before he can stop them. “I don’t want anyone treating me like a god and I’m nothing like you.”

Yeah, the weed is definitely making his mouth run faster than his brain.

Woobin tilts his head, studying him. “So I’m wrong for assuming you like being in control?” His voice drops, almost curious. “You don’t lose your mind when you lose it?”

The question hangs in air, as if Woobin has cracked open a door Taehyung didn’t even realize he’d been barricading.

“Yes.” Taehyung grits the word out. “You’re wrong about everything about me.”

Woobin lifts a brow, eyes flicking toward the blunt between Taehyung’s fingers. “Then tell me why you’re smoking that shit.”

Taehyung goes still.

It feels like someone hits a switch inside him, the one that kills the noise and leaves only the truth ringing in his ears.

He swallows, takes another drag even though his hands tremble now. “Not everything has a deeper meaning,” he mutters. “Maybe I just want to let loose. Simple as that.”

Woobin throws his head back and laughs. A laugh that says he can see right through him.

“Taehyung-ah,” he says, shaking his head, “you can call me a loser in your head but you would’ve done the same. You would’ve chosen the safety. The easy way.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches.

Because that, that is the one thing he cannot let slide.

He thinks of how many times he’s bent under his father’s expectations. How easy it would’ve been to keep going, to shut up, to accept the life his father drew out for him like a neat little roadmap. A future he could’ve slipped into without ever having to decide anything for himself.

And how he said no.

How he is paying for that choice now.

So no, he would never choose the easy way.

He takes one final drag, the smoke burning on the way out and stubs the blunt on the concrete. Then he stands, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Woobin,” he says, voice steady now, “maybe think about whether you’re trying to convince me or convince yourself. And yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t judge you for coming back. It’s your life. Your choice.”

He steps back, eyes locked on Woobin’s.

“But don’t say I’m just like you to make yourself feel better.”

For a moment, the world goes very quiet.

The last thing Taehyung sees before he turns to leave is Woobin’s hand gripping his whiskey glass, white-knuckled, shaking, his eyes burning red with anger he can’t swallow down.

And Taehyung walks away, the night suddenly colder on his skin.

“Hey, thank you for coming,” Hoseok says as he pulls out the chair and drops into it with a soft exhale.

Taehyung lifts his gaze from his laptop, tries for a smile, but it slips almost immediately into a tight grimace. He looks away before it can be noticed.

The guilt has been sitting in his bones for days now, thick and nauseating, like something rotting under his skin. It’s happening again. He’s been dodging calls, leaving messages unread, pretending not to hear the knocking on his door when Jimin came all the way to his apartment a few days ago. He just stood frozen in the dark, holding his breath, waiting for the footsteps to fade.

Why?

Because he can’t let them see him like this, so pathetic. Because he doesn’t trust his voice not to crack.

And because, if he’s honest, the only reason he agreed to lunch with Hoseok today is so he wouldn’t have to buy or make food himself. Saving even a little matters right now. And the thought alone makes his stomach twist with another wave of shame.

He finally looks up when the silence stretches too long. Hoseok is staring at him, worry carved plainly into every line of his face, worry he tries to mask the second their eyes meet.

“Let’s order,” Hoseok says quickly, brightening his expression with practiced ease. “It’s hyung’s treat today, okay?”

 He just nods.

When the waiter comes, he orders a little more than usual. Enough to pretend he’s indulging, when really he’s calculating how to stretch it so he can skip dinner.

Once the waiter leaves, Hoseok leans back. “Why don’t you visit me these days?”

Taehyung taps the edge of his laptop, forcing himself to hold eye contact. “I’m just… busy. Assignments. Tests.” It’s half the truth.

“You missed movie nights too.”

“I… I’ll join next time.” He knows he won’t. Not unless something changes. 

Hoseok hums, fingers drumming against the table. “I asked Jimin to come today. But he’s… really, really mad at you.”

“I know.” Taehyung’s voice is barely above a whisper. He rubs at a smudge on his laptop that isn’t actually there. “I’ll talk to him, hyung. After I finish this assignment I’ve been struggling with.”

More like after I finally get a fucking job, he thinks. After I stop being such a burden.

He needs to stop avoiding it. He needs to stop being a bitch about it. He needs to work, anything, anywhere. He won’t survive another week like this.

And beneath all of it, the thought he tries hardest not to touch rises up anyway, how his father told him, over and over, that he was nothing without help. How he said Taehyung would fall apart the moment he had to stand alone.

He hates how right that feels now.

But he also refuses to let it stay true. He has to find a way. Or else he’s terrified he will disappear into the very version of himself he’s been running from.