Archive of Our Own

BREAK-UP ALERT!

Well, well. Looks like Cupid missed a flight to Tokyo. According to our sources, global rockstar Jeongguk is spending Valentine’s Day abroad this year, busy and very, very alone. This wouldn’t be such a surprise as reports circulate that the rockstar and his longtime boyfriend, Taehyung Kim, CEO of the Kim Conglomerates, have allegedly called it quits earlier this year!

The couple, who began dating after meeting at a charity gala hosted by Kim Corporation five years ago, have always been extremely private. Not that anyone would try to steal your man, Mr. Jeon! Or, well, your ex. On the other hand, we can’t say the same about Jeongguk Jeon, who captures a wall-sized space in every teenage girl’s bedroom.

When did it all start? Let’s do an emotional recap of the internet’s favorite couple, shall we? The rumors of the ex-couple’s romance first gained traction when netizens claimed to have spotted the two together on discreet private dates. Jeongguk’s album released during that period only further fueled speculation, with several tracks widely believed to hint at his budding romance with his “business tycoon” beau.

However, no names were ever attached. The frontman of GLDN has never really publicly dedicated a song to his beloved. It’s sad being in Mr. Kim’s shoes, a little pathetic that others before him got a love song while his name barely leaves the rockstar’s lips.

Maybe love is in the looks and wallet these days, and it’s not a concealed fact that Taehyung Kim has both, plenty.

Nothing was confirmed from either side until things became impossible to deny.

Photographs of a late-night grocery run were then leaked on the internet showing the two canoodling in pajamas looking obscenely cosy with each other. But, but, but… it wasn’t the kissing or back hugs that had been the highlight of the pictures, but the rockstar’s hand resting rather familiarly inside the CEO’s back pocket. The internet was set ablaze, causing major backlash to the couple for public indecency. Why grope your new fling in public when you can do it between four walls, Mr. Jeon? Not that we can expect anything better from our notorious rockstar.

Shortly after, Jeongguk’s company confirmed the relationship. But despite confirmation, our favorite rockstar consistently declined to answer any questions about his new beau, reinforcing his preference for strict privacy. And the world had to live with it.

We would occasionally catch a sight of the couple over the years, from dinner dates and walks in the parks to concerts and galas. Even though Taehyung Kim never faced the media, we know he secretly loved the attention. But in recent months, sightings have stopped altogether. The last time they were seen together was several months ago, and now sources close to the pair suggest they may have quietly split earlier this year due to their exhausting schedules and extended time spent in different countries.

Though some in the industry suggest the issue may be less about timing and more about temperament, that the boisterously restless rockstar, known for his history of impulsive flings, may have outgrown the stability of dating someone as… plain as Kim Taehyung. Jeongguk, after all, is not exactly known for staying still.

CEO Kim was a safe choice but maybe it’s time to move past that.

As speculation continues, Jeongguk is currently overseas, concluding the final leg of his massive 55-date sold-out stadium tour. He is set to perform in Japan this Saturday, spending Valentine’s week rehearsing with his team, surrounded by staff, fans, and endless opportunity, rather than taking any personal break. Adding further intrigue, rumors are mounting that Jeongguk may announce a new album on the last night of the tour!

Nonetheless, the good news is that the hottie of the year is back in the market. Will we catch the infamous rockstar sporting a new beau of his on Valentine's? Guess, we’ll see.

It was good while it lasted, Mr. Kim.

Good riddance!

Eyes are not lamps to the world.

They are wounds.              

Soft grotesque openings in the skull – thin, fragile, through which the light hits the cornea and the world starts invading inside the blood and tissue, translating the vast domain around them into tiny neutral codes. The eyes cannot choose what enters, what is allowed the luxury of the interpretation, and what isn’t. It receives the world in its full indifferent intensity. It absorbs, intrudes, and unavoidably forces itself into things that do not want to be seen.

Human emotions are complex, and eyes do not project certainty. It reveals whatever remains to be hidden – sorrow, fatigue, fear, love - all because the eyes do not conceal the truth well. They are wounds, unable to be suppressed or hidden under a pretense. The eyes reveal vulnerability because they are vulnerable. They are porous, permeable. Two fragile apertures in this skull. Two holes. A bruise. They can’t hide, obliged to be out in the open to function and carry the burden of engaging with the world that threatens to pierce them.

Anatomically, psychologically, eyes are well, eyes. An organ that the human body possesses. Which sends codes through the retinal ganglion cells, feeding into the optic nerve, then shooting straight towards the lateral geniculate nucleus of the thalamus. And finally, finally, fired into the primary visual cortex at the back of the brain to fulfill the entire function of perceiving.

The brain decrypts the code.

And gradually, the eyes are allowed to see, observe, scrutinize, inspect, and suffer.

The world has various colors.

It has edges.

Motion.

Depth.

Looking down at the wound, the wound is red, sometimes brownish, pink, yellow, suggesting it needs cleaning; black, pointing to dead necrotic tissue that requires removal but often than not, the wound is metallic scarlet.

Taehyung looks down at his hands, but they appear to be props. He hears his own voice, but it sounds like it escaped from someone else’s throat. There is no wound on his hand; in fact, there is no wound anywhere on his body. But it has to be somewhere around here because it hurts. It’s beginning to hurt, and Taehyung doesn’t remember being injured. But he feels uneasy. Disconcerted. Agitated. He knows something is wrong. There is an accumulated pain in the left part of his chest, but he feels disassociated with everything around him.

He thinks he heard someone calling his name. He looks determinedly at the phone in his hand. The box in his vest pocket feels heavy. Taehyung is scared he’s going to be tumbled underneath the weight of it.

“You’d think after all these years, these stupid journalists would learn to mind their own fucking business,” Kiyoko grumbled next to him, face pinched as she typed furiously on her laptop.

Taehyung resonates with her.

It’s been years, and yet the pattern remains the same. It doesn’t matter how much Taehyung stays away from the vultures; they find a way to pick on him regardless, plucking until the scraps of his skin are torn open and making a clear passage for them to eat at his insides too.

It doesn’t matter how much Jeongguk tries to protect him from all this; the media loves to encroach on the sanctity of their walls, beating down until they find something scandalous to post and gush about to fill their empty pockets with a piece of shaming article that would actually sell.

“This is the twenty-third bullshit article in a week. You should take strict action, sir. They are vilifying you.”

Taehyung sighs and exits out of Naver.

“It’s nothing. They’re just trying to drive a response from us.”

Taehyung knew well how controversy drove far better fan response. The more people who are interested, the better the sales.

“It’s not important,” He rolls his sleeves as he regards Kiyoko’s furrowed expression with a blank one of his own. “Back to work, Kiyoko. Are our anchor investors confirmed for tomorrow’s meeting?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Reschedule the breakfast with the Japanese curators to brunch. And keep my evening clear. It’s Jeongguk’s last show.”

“On it.”

Taehyung looks outside the window. Tokyo’s skyline is vast and reaches the clouds with its towering skyscrapers. The idiotic smile he wore on his face since landing is long since replaced with emptiness, bees move in his ears, tormenting him with their buzz.

Taehyung doesn’t know what emotion he’s feeling. He tries to pinch his thigh to make it go away, but the buzzing crawls up his spine, slowly spreading throughout his body and recoiling his stomach.

The illusion of happiness is easily shattered when a voice keeps taunting in your ears about how something is clearly very wrong, it’s deception in the form of clarity, even if it’s not, your mind makes it up, your conscience needs to confront you into thinking the worst case scenarios.

He checks his phone for the umpteenth time that day. There are work emails bombarding his lock screen, waiting for his response. Taehyung clears them off the interface, fidgeting with his phone, tapping and untapping the airplane mode.

Still nothing.

The empty screen stares at him, mocking. Like the largely unanswered texts on the thread.

To: rockstar <3

Just landed!

I have a brief meeting to attend

but I’ll see you tonight?

Delivered 8 hours ago

Objectively, eight hours is nothing. Jungkook is always surrounded by people, always pulled in ten directions at once. The rehearsals and the new album preparation are taking too much of his time. It doesn’t bother Taehyung because he understands. Jeongguk would usually video call him later and ask about his day, tell him what he’s up to and how he can’t wait to see Taehyung again.

Taehyung knows the article has gotten his head when he scrolls up their message and regrets immediately. The pattern is visible when he actually looks for it: messages spaced further apart, replies arriving later, occasionally monosyllabic, conversations ending without closure. The thread that was once littered with candid selfies and dog pictures has come to a staggering emptiness in the past month.

The last time Jeongguk texted him more than three words was a month ago on Taehyung’s birthday.

From: rockstar <3

went to get some breakfast

do you know you’re so fucking squishy when you sleep

kinda wanna eat you

anyways happy bday, old man

i love you

There’s a nagging, dull ache in the space where his heart is supposed to be. It’s easy not to let an outsider pollute what you consider sacred when you have been together for so long. But Taehyung has seen longtime relationships uprooted straight from the source as if all those years together never existed in the first place, many times.

He hears it in passing, or he sees it in his news, or through his mom who keeps pestering him to put a ring on Jeongguk’s finger and tie the knot if he wants to live that forever concept with him.

If it were that easy.

The seed planted in the meat of his heart has sprouted too quickly, rotting him with worry each passing second. Being away from the one you love is hard. Hard and so terribly vulnerable. Worse is not knowing how they are, what’s going on with them, do they still love you?

Taehyung is beginning to dread meeting the one he couldn’t wait to see some hours ago.

By the time Taehyung makes it to the hotel they are staying at, the sky is a dark, moon peeking out and fading stars twinkling into a flimsy cast of clouds. With a squeeze to Kiyoko’s shoulder, he thanks her for her good work and wishes her good night.

He can feel her physically restraining herself from asking any questions. She might be younger than him, but she is far more competent than any employee Taehyung has ever had the pleasure of working with. She is a wonderful assistant, but often acts like his nagging little sister. And as much as she drives him to the wall, she also keeps him and his schedule from falling apart. Taehyung can’t function a day without her.

The check-in is quick. He shows his ID and is immediately whisked towards the VIP wing. It is not as though he had forgotten that he hadn’t seen Jeongguk since New Year's; the anticipation is worse than any excitement, it could drive a sane man crazy. He pushes all the self-critical thoughts out of his mind for temporary relief before the floodgates come loose upon their remembrance and he ends up dampening his own mood further.

The excitement is unnerving, a terrible turning in his stomach.

The attendant opens a private door and gestures him through. Taehyung thanks him and closes the door behind him. The lounge is obnoxiously large with a living room and two separate bedrooms. Taehyung’s skin feels awfully cold as he sheds his blazer and drapes it over the back of a chair, and yet a nervous sweat has broken out on his palms.

The lounge is silent which means Jeongguk is probably still at work.

He whisks his tie and walks past the hallway that leads directly into the living room. He stills at the glass wall that leads onto a magnificent veranda that overlooks a large portion of Japan. He makes out the garden below, adorned questionably in the theme of Valentine's.

If Jeongguk were here, he would turn his nose up at the sight. For some reason, the holiday made his boyfriend aghast.

“Hey,” It feels like someone yanks him back by a thread attached to the belly, the way it opens, and a mass of butterflies flutters out of it.

Five years into the relationship and he still feels butterflies around him. How crazy.

Not having seen Jeongguk in weeks, Taehyung had a small doubt whether his attraction might have dwindled down a little, somewhere between a neutral and less dangerous zone. Because Jeongguk looks stunning, white tee and joggers hang loosely on his waist, wet strands freshly showered.

Taehyung shouldn’t be thinking of jumping his bones right now.

Jeongguk smiles when he sees him, but he stays seated where he was typing something on his phone on the couch. “When did your flight land?”

“Around noon,” He shifts in his place as he eyes a ginormous arrangement of flowers sitting on the table right in front of him. “I texted you.”

“Oh, sorry. I had my phone on mute. I was holed up in the studio the entire day.”

Jeongguk doesn’t like it when notifications interrupt his creative flow. Taehyung knows that.

“I figured.”

Jeongguk removes his gaze from Taehyung, then, focusing on his screen where he seems to be having a very serious discussion. And Taehyung feels his confidence slipping. He was expecting… a lot. Always abnormally ambitious, dreaming too much, expecting too much, one can say, he has been disappointed many times throughout life; however, that never really did stop him from expecting and wanting and dreaming.

When he landed, there was a tiny filament of hope that Jeongguk might surprise him at the airport. It was stupid because Taehyung knew Jeongguk was busy, but he had expectations. Expected Jeongguk to be just as excited to see him as he was.

When he entered the suite, he expected Jeongguk to jump to his feet and take him in his arms. What he didn’t expect was Jeongguk to give him a minuscule smile before resuming to type whatever the fuck he was typing on his phone.

“These are beautiful.” Taehyung thumbs at the pink tulips as he stands by the couch, wanting to say something. Jeongguk looks up, and for a second, Taehyung thinks he sees irritation flickering in his gaze, but it’s gone as soon as he blinks.

Jeongguk looks at the flowers, then at his phone. He sends one last message before turning his attention back to Taehyung. His eyes are searching. The air is stifling. Taehyung wonders when the silence between them started sounding a lot like awkwardness. It’s a private lounge, there are no cameras, no paparazzi hiding by the corner, yet Taehyung feels more scrutinized than ever.

“The paparazzi outside gifted them. I couldn’t say no.”

“Oh.”         

Taehyung takes his hands off them. He needs to wash his hands immediately.

“However,” Jeongguk leans back on the couch, eyes hooded and exploring. He looks a little amused. “I do prefer to get flowers from my boyfriend rather than those bozos.”

This startles Taehyung. “You want me to get you flowers?”

Jeongguk looks at him like he’s being silly. There is a small smile on his face, it is curved in all the wrong places, it looks forced, a bit confused and skeptical. And Taehyung, with a start, realizes, this was the first time he had seen him smile at him in person in two months, and it has never looked so wrong.

“Did you get me flowers?” Jeongguk asks, it’s spoken like a tease, but Taehyung misunderstands it as mocking.

“Um — no.”

“Damn.”

Taehyung wonders if his heart is still beating intact in his chest, or if it has finally burst and splattered a bloody mess dripping on his lungs. That would explain why he can hardly breathe. It’s a strange feeling; he’s not used to feeling like this with Jeongguk.

Were things really that bad between them? That Jeongguk looks like he can hardly tolerate being in the same room as him? A less critical part of himself thinks that’s bullshit. He’s reading too much into things that aren’t even there, but just a phantasm his mind is making up to justify the things he read.

The prickling uneasiness gnaws at him but Jeongguk is just teasing.

“Can I hug you?”

The words are out before he can hold them back. He is not sure if he’s even audible, hates the vulnerability that bleeds into his voice, hates that he’s ruining things. Jeongguk has seen him all of him, naked, crying over frustrated deals, had held his hair when he couldn't stop throwing up after a stomach flu, had cleaned him up when he was sick and sweaty, grossly smelling of medicines and cough syrup.

But none of that had him vulnerable quite like this.

The smile on Jeongguk’s face drops. His brows furrow and Taehyung wants to take it back. He wants to take everything back, his suitcase, his heart and run far away from the place just so that he could be concealed from the receiving end of that frown.

If Jeongguk tells him no, Taehyung is going to break.

“Why are you asking me that?”

A hand reaches out, clasps itself on his waist and pulls. Taehyung works on muscle memory as he steps closer and flops into his lap. The phone clatters on the table as Jeongguk wraps both of his arms around him and brings them both chest to chest.

“Is something wrong?”

The worry in his eyes is loud, and from up close, he can make out how weary the younger looks. Taehyung puts his palms on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sliding them up and down as he avoids the affected eyes. Shit.

“No.”

He hears Jeongguk sigh before the arms around him tightens and he is propelled forward and tucked properly into Jeongguk’s chest. The other nestles his face in his neck, breathing out another sigh. The air tickles his skin.

“You don’t ever have to ask before hugging me.” There is a kiss dropped on the side of his head. “Tired?”

Taehyung manages by fisting into the fabric of Jeongguk’s sweatshirt, torn between pushing him away and dragging him closer to slam their mouths together.

Is he tired? He’s really tired. Taehyung’s hands shake for no reason, his chest tight, heart thundering in his ears. He needs to clutch onto something solid to ground himself to the present, to get out of his head, but there’s nothing around him except this man who is hell-bent on crucifying his heart.

Falling in love is easy. It’s watching someone fall out of love with you that instills the fear.

“Kind of.”

Jeongguk makes a noise in his throat. It vibrates on his skin. Taehyung hesitantly puts his arms properly around his boyfriend, the warmth is tempting; the questions rise again. Are we okay? Is this how it’s going to be going forward? Us indifferent and tolerant with each other? Is this even love? Do you still love me?

The worry nags at him like an insistent itch he can’t get rid of. They are due for a conversation, but maybe tomorrow, when Taehyung’s head is clear and he’s not seeing and misconstruing stuff with his half-muddled brain.

He sneaks a hand into Jeongguk’s wet hair, gently massaging his scalp, inhaling his scent that hasn’t changed, and ignoring the world around them for a long, solid minute. Jeongguk lets out a hum in content and nuzzles close.

“Missed you.”

The phone on the table lights up with an incoming message. Jeongguk doesn’t move to get it but Taehyung notices Jeongguk has changed his wallpaper. It used to be a terrible candid of Taehyung in bed with his hair all messy. He’s sure there was a drool somewhere along his chin.

He’s glad Jeongguk changed it.

“I thought you wanted a hug?”

Taehyung looks down at Jeongguk from where he speaks. “Hm?”

“You wanted a hug, but you are not even hugging me properly.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

Taehyung doesn’t like how Jeongguk speaks to him. His words are too accusatory like Taehyung is the bad guy for not hugging him properly when Jeongguk hasn’t even replied back to any of his messages in the last fifteen days. Actually, he had. But Taehyung is feeling a misplaced hurt for absolutely no reason.

There is a reason.

Jeongguk has been pulling away from him. If this were two years ago, Jeongguk would have crowded him the moment he entered the hotel room. Would have held him tightly, incessantly told him how much he missed him, how much he loves him. They would have fucked against the door because they are too impatient to reach the bed. And Taehyung would have let Jeongguk have him against the wall, in the shower, wherever he wanted, as long as he kept looking at Taehyung like he was his whole world.

Right now, it’s a haze. Jeongguk’s are not filled with love, but poking a dangerous line between confusion and irritability.

Taehyung’s heart falls when Jeongguk pulls away from him, picking up his phone again. “How was your flight?”

Taehyung already answered that.

“Okay.”

Jeongguk nods. His jaw works as he keeps his eyes away from him and on the phone. Taehyung sits on his lap. They are close. But Taehyung has never felt so cold, never felt Jeongguk so far away from him.

Taehyung adjusts himself on his lap. It’s so awkward. His hands are still on Jeongguk’s shoulder, while Jeongguk has completely pulled away from him.

Fuck.

“I – I’ll go freshen up.”

He moves to get off his lap and Jeongguk doesn’t protest, doesn’t even look at him, focusing on his phone with his face contorted into a frown.

When he comes out of the shower, Jeongguk is still where we left him, still on his phone. There is food in front of him this time, and Taehyung's stomach growls, reminding him once again he hasn’t eaten since lunch.

Taehyung shifts around the table, planning to sit on the other side of the couch to eat his dinner, but before he can move past it, tattooed fingers close around his wrist and yank him back with a sudden force. He gasps, balance giving out as he drops ungracefully onto the cushions, hitting a solid muscle behind.

Jeongguk parts his thighs to make room, positioning him into the space between them, instantly locking him there with a hand on his middle.

“Which one?” Jeongguk shoves his phone to his face. “It’s your Valentine’s gift, so choose carefully.”

Disoriented, he tries to sit up. Instantly, Jeongguk’s thighs lock around him, intending to keep him there.

“Really?” he huffs, not sure if it’s aimed towards the rough manhandling or the surprise that Jeongguk is looking for a gift. He turns his face to glare daggers at his side profile. “I thought Valentine's was absurd?”

“It is,” Jeongguk grunts, flicking his air-dried hair off his forehead; he makes a face. “But I figured your hopeless romantic ass would want to celebrate, so here we go. Choose now.”

There are those butterflies he mentioned.

He feels a little delirious, frazzled. Was Taehyung really imagining the space between them before? Did the article really get into his head so bad that he was imagining his boyfriend of five years suddenly falling out of love with him?

That’s some really nice insecurity he got there.

“You say that every year yet you go out of your way to get me stuff.”

“Cons of being in love,” Jeongguk rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, the affectionate squeeze to his waist tells a different story. Taehyung’s heart flutters at the sight of him.

Does Jeongguk even realize how easily he can make him feel better sometimes?

“Seeing you happy makes me happy and all that jazz, y’know. The things I do for you.”

“I like the first one,” Taehyung mumbles into his neck, shifting around and clinging to him properly. Jeongguk mutters an mkay before he hits on ‘buy now.’ He adds his card details and it’s not long before the screen delivers a successful payment and Jeongguk throws his phone away, caging him in his arms.

Love is there, it’s muted into something homely and familiar. But it’s there. It speaks in the way Jeongguk holds him, runs a hand down his gear as they lightly sway on the couch. It must be uncomfortable for him but the other doesn’t make a move to get Taehyung off, instead, his fingers are desperate to cling to Taehyung, cold in temperature but welcoming, they sneak inside his shirt and Taehyung lets out a content sigh.

“What do you want me to get you?” he asks, pressing a light kiss behind Jeongguk’s ear as he pulls back to look at him.

Jeongguk’s fingers idly tap a silent rhythm along his hips. The small distance between their faces allows him to flit his eyes all over, and Taehyung feels warm when Jeongguk’s eyes get stuck on his lips.

“Nothing,” he says, inching closer to bump their heads together. “What I want is right here.”

“Jeonggukie?”

“Hm?”

Taehyung briefly debates brushing it off and going back to sleep, but if he’s going to continue being a big baby about this, he might as well tell him. He just doesn’t know how to do that in a way that won’t make it sound as idiotic as he knows it is.

Relationships are like plants that need the sun and water; without it, they’ll shrivel up and die. Communication is imperative for a healthy relationship, and the foremost requirement for such communication to happen is letting go of that fear and believing everything is going to be fine if he just pretends it.

He takes a deep breath. It’s all in your head, he repeats to himself. Jeongguk loves him. There is nothing to worry about. He would never make fun of Taehyung.

“Would you still love me if I were a house potato?”

Jeongguk freezes with his hands over his back, but Taehyung takes that as an encouraging gesture and continues.

“Like an actual potato. I wouldn’t have a job. And I’d be the most boring person you could dream of. No hobby. Nothing. I’ll just be at home waiting for you to come home. Oh, and I can’t cook either, by the way, so keep that in mind when you answer this.”

It takes Jeongguk a moment to put together that botched explanation, and then like a perfect boyfriend he is, he guffaws.

Taehyung scowls, glaring at his side profile from where he’s tucked very comfortably in his neck.

“A potato?” Jeongguk huffs a laugh, stupidly sexy and Taehyung kind of wants to shut him up by slamming his own mouth against his. “I thought I was the sugar baby in the relationship, Mr. Kim.”

Taehyung grunts in his neck. It’s an old joke where Jeongguk often says how he should retire and Taehyung would take care of him because he’s the richer of the two. It makes him giddy to know Jeongguk has no doubt he’ll be with Taehyung forever.

“Not that I would mind if the roles are reversed. You’re my baby anyway.”

“Yeah? Would you still love me if I quit my job and become a stay at house potato?”

“Is that what you're worried about?”

Taehyung shakes his head, but he worries about it, then nods with a shrug.

“Well, I’d probably like it a lot more if you became my house potato. I’ll keep you in my pocket, take you with me to all my tour dates, and you’ll give me a good luck kiss before every single one of them. And we can fuck in the changing room. How cool is that?”

Taehyung pouts into his neck. “Do you ever think about anything else besides sex in that small head of yours?”

“When you’re involved? No. But I often do think about kissing you, but that’s not important. We could try it though. I’m open to anything when it comes to you.”

“Cheesy. So fucking cheesy. Get off me.”

“Is that a new song?”

It is a new song.

Taehyung knows this ritual like the back of his palm. Jeongguk would find an isolated corner away from people, his guitar and sacred notebook on his lap, muttering the words, he’d scribble down on it occasionally, playing the tune on his guitar then note that down too.

It was a ritual Taehyung has learnt a little too early in their relationship when Jeongguk would suddenly start muttering to himself. It took more than "What was that?" "Did you say something, bun?" to know Jeongguk wasn't really talking to him but just humming a lyric under his breath.

It’s endearing, Jeongguk is, until inspiration hits him in the middle of dense traffic and he is whipping his phone out, nearly killing them both.

He barely registers the airy chuckle over the guitar string.

“No.”

“Hm. I don’t think I’ve heard that melody before.”

Jeongguk hums back at him, leaned against the headboard, scribbling something down onto his notebook. The sunlight filtering into the room pours over his naked chest, spilled with ink, bestowing him in a soft hue.

Taehyung bundles the blanket around him and shuffles closer to his boyfriend to steal some of his body heat. He tucks his chin over the singer’s shoulder to sneak a peek, but Jeongguk snaps the notebook shut and plays with the guitar strings again.

Taehyung tries not to pout.

“Are you lying to me?” he asks, glaring at his side profile as he watches the beginning of a small smile at the edge of Jeongguk’s lips, watches his dimple pop out where Taehyung wants to put his lips over and over again. “You know I’d hear it eventually, right?”

“You will,” Jeongguk turns to look at him then, soft eyes flickering with a hint of mischief. “However, I like the look on your face whenever I surprise you with a new song.”

“Is it about me?”

Again.

Jeongguk lets go of the restraints to chuckle, entertained, eyes crinkling. “I don’t know. Have I written you a song before?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles into Jeongguk’s shoulder, feeling a hand sneak into his disheveled hair, massaging his scalp. He gets lost in the sensation for a second, but then he opens his eyes and looks up at Jeongguk’s amused face watching him. And he knows. How can he not know? It’s a trick question. Jeongguk knows that Taehyung knows.

That every song written by him is about him.

Every lyric pulled onto that sacred notebook, scribbled, smudged, erased, rewritten, is from Jeongguk’s heart. And Jeongguk has never failed to mention who holds that heart in the center of his palm.

So, he raises his chin, challenging, smug, and asks because he knows Jeongguk won’t answer.

“You tell me. Have you written me a song?”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Jeongguk scoffs, pulling on his hair. It doesn’t hurt, but he winces anyway. “You think I love you enough to write you a song? Get over yourself, baby.”

“Whatever you say,” He singsongs, too content to even care about taking the argument further.

Jeongguk has never outright said any of his songs are about him, but Taehyung isn’t stupid.

“It’s real rich coming from you when you know most of my lyrics contain fucking someone repeatedly.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at the words. A blush ever-present on his cheeks. He pulls back from Jeongguk to lean over his body to get his laptop from the nightstand.

“And you’ve been singing about fucking them since when?”

He feels it then, the tentative press of lips to his cheek. “Does it have to be about someone? I like sex.”

“With who?”

He feels it again, on his jaw this time, then another right beneath it, along the column of his throat.

A tattooed hand lifts to lower the blanket from his shoulder and Taehyung has to hold the nightstand as he lurches upwards, he tries to question, but it comes out as a surprise whimper when Jeongguk suddenly bites onto his skin, quickly following with a soothing lick over the spot before sucking it back into his mouth.

“There is someone,” Jeongguk’s fingers starts unbuttoning his night shirt, and Taehyung remains there, straddling over Jeongguk on all fours, breath coming out short as the other mouths over his jaw, slowly slipping the shirt off one shoulder to glide his tongue over the new uncovered skin. “Name starts with T.”

Fuck.

Jeongguk’s lip ring is cold, loud and ferocious, suckling the skin of his neck.

“J-Jeongguk.”

“Hm?”

Jeongguk’s hand runs over his arched spine, trailing downwards and cupping his ass. Another holds his jaw in place as he opens his mouth wider, his kisses turning firm, more purposeful. Taehyung arches into the touch, a moan slipping out of his mouth. He removes a hand from the nightstand to grip Jeongguk’s naked shoulder, but Jeongguk doesn’t let him move.

He tangles a hand in Taehyung’s hair and pulls him down to devour his mouth in a heated, wet kiss. Taehyung gasps into his mouth, complying with the rough demand.

The guitar is moved from between their bodies. Jeongguk uses the other hand that isn’t gripping Taehyung’s ass to pick up his laptop from the nightstand and places it neatly on the other side of the bed. Then he pulls, uses a hand to cup the back of his thighs and pulls Taehyung towards him, making his groin meet the hard muscle of Jeongguk’s abdomen.

Taehyung rolled his hips forward as Jeongguk’s licks into his mouth, sucking on his tongue and driving Taehyung absolutely insane. Dropping his hands down to squeeze the meat off Taehyung’s thighs, rutting him forward. The strength Jeongguk uses to move him on him makes him plummet further into sensation. He loves this. He loves it when Jeongguk gets a little rough.

“Was waiting for you to wake up,” He mouths down to his jaw and Taehyung’s body wracks in a shudder. “Fuck. You drive me crazy, you know that?”

Taehyung was going to respond when something blared too loudly near his ear. It has both of them sprinting apart. Jeongguk groans as he breaks away from his mouth, labored breaths landing on Taehyung’s chin as he picks up his phone with an apology kiss to Taehyung’s cheek.

“Someone better has died for you to call me so early when you know I have my boyfriend in my room.”

A very unimpressed voice speaks from the other end that Taehyung doesn’t bother listening because in the next second, Jeongguk leans down to mouth on Taehyung’s nipples through the fabric wetly, clearly enjoying the way it makes him arch.

Taehyung muffles the sound as he pushes Jeongguk’s head back with a warning look. Jeongguk pouts at him, holding his phone to his ear and gripping Taehyung’s thigh with the other. He looks over at the wet patch, then up at him, lower lip jutted out into a pout, silently begging like a dog for a bone.

Taehyung rolls his eyes as he pushes off him. Jeongguk tries to hold him down but Taehyung bats his hands away. He checks his phone for any updates Kiyoko might have sent him. It’s eleven in the morning. He has a brunch with his investors in an hour.

It’s soon Jeongguk returns and starts laying soft kisses on his neck. The intention is clear and Taehyung is endeared by how Jeongguk is a little shit most of the time but like a starry-eyed puppy when he wants some dick to suck.

He wiggles one arm free between their bodies to grip his boyfriend’s cheek in warning as he begins biting him. A fucking dog through and through. Jeongguk only makes another small noise and goes back to burying his face into his neck, his breath warm and tickling Taehyung’s ear a little.

“Who was it?” he asks, trying to distract Jeongguk from something he’s clearly aiming for.

“Namjoon,” he grumbles, pressing a pointed kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Have to go record some last-minute vocals before the show. You mind?”

Taehyung shakes his head as he tries to turn. “I have two meetings to attend but I’ll be free after lunch.”

Jeongguk nods, sighing blissfully as Taehyung smooths his hair back from his forehead to give him a kiss, rubbing his thumbs over his dimples, his nose scrunching when Taehyung lightly pinches his cheeks. His puppy. He briefly wonders if Jeongguk would growl at him if he calls him that affectionately, trying to look intimidating with his rumpled hair and ridiculous pout.

He goes for another, maybe makes out a little more when something catches his eye behind his shoulder, and he freezes.

“Oh,” Taehyung breaths out, heart thudding. “You changed your wallpaper.”

Jeongguk turns his head over his shoulder, where his home screen is visible. He reaches over with his hand, not occupied by Taehyung, to grab it. He pauses before handing it over. Taehyung watches with his heart tripping over itself, a smile that blooms on Jeongguk’s lips. He doesn’t think Jeongguk is aware he’s doing such a thing.

“When was this?” he asks, leaning closer to look at the screen too.

“You don’t remember?” Jeongguk continues when Taehyung shakes his head. “Melbourne train station? I told you to look after our luggage because I was going to the bathroom and I returned to this.” He emphasizes the picture on his home screen. “You knocked off like a horse.”

Taehyung's mouth falls open. “Oh.”

“I thought it was cute. You clutching my guitar out of everything. My two favorite things in the whole world.”

Jeongguk pockets the phone, shuffling closer to grab Taehyung’s face. He raises a finger and presses it onto his pinking cheek, so close to him he’s sure he can feel Taehyung’s harried breaths on his lips.

“You’re so cute, Mr. Kim.”

“Shut up.”

Jeongguk giggles, leaning in to capture Taehyung’s lips in a deeper kiss, hungry to swallow him up. Taehyung lets him explore, revels in it. In fact, he has to start getting ready for work soon but let’s Jeongguk have his fill. He holds Jeongguk’s face in his hand but the other starts wandering.

“You can’t walk around wearing that if you don’t want me to do nothing about it,” his fingers brush against Taehyung’s nipples. “Seeing you after two months, baby. My self-control is not the best.”

“You’re in your boxers and mine is just fine.”

Jeongguk’s face flashes with offense. “That’s really insulting.”

Taehyung smiles as he pecks his lips, slipping out of his boyfriend’s arms and getting out of bed. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I have a meeting in an hour, so we really can’t.”

“I’m sure I can make you come in ten.”

“Yeah. That’s not happening.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, because one second he was walking, next he had Jeongguk’s face, jaw ticked, eyes hazy with lust, hovering over him.

“I can,” Jeongguk presses his groin onto his thighs, thick, hard. “make you come in ten.”

There is a note of a challenge in his eye,s and so naturally, Taehyung takes it up blindly.

“Okay,” Taehyung shrugs, and Jeongguk’s eyes narrow. “You have ten minutes.”

“Better get to work then.”

There’s a demon grinning down at Taehyung, promising him nothing but a good time with only a single-minded goal to take Taehyung apart.

“Heaven in seven minutes at your doorstep, Mr. Kim.”

And then Jeongguk is pushing him down onto the mattress, parting his legs and getting between them. It’s a blur of black before Jeongguk is shoving his tongue down his throat, and tightening his hold around his thigh to hike it over his back. Taehyung’s legs tighten around his waist, cock kicking hard at the first friction.

Taehyung cries out at the roughness. But Jeongguk doesn’t relent, he ruts around Taehyung with a sort of desperation that has Taehyung harshly gripping his shoulders, not even noticing he was leaving indenting his nails into Jeongguk’s skin. Jeongguk kisses him like he’s been starving, like all the self control he contained is now being unleashed from the pits to hell, and straight inside Taehyung’s mouth.

Jeongguk pulls back just to bury his face in his neck, biting and sucking, licking and kissing the flesh before slowly descending into his journey.

The first lick to his nipple has him crying out. Taehyung didn’t even realize in his daze when Jeongguk unbuttoned his shirt and shoved it aside to expose his chest. Jeongguk ducks forward to swirl his tongue around one nipple. He swallows the nub into his mouth, tongue curling over it in a way that has Taehyung muffling a moan into the back of his palm.

“Open your legs, baby,” Jeongguk rasped, his hands unsuccessfully attempting to travel further up Taehyung’s shorts. As Taehyung obeyed, Jeongguk removed his hands to reach around the back of Taehyung’s thighs, slowly sliding under the hem to cop a feel of his ass, all while sucking over Taehyung’s nipple in quick succession.

Jeongguk goes to pull back, avoiding Taehyung’s hands that are determined to keep him there. Taehyung could come like this, with Jeongguk’s mouth on his chest. Jeongguk doesn’t even have to go anywhere near his cock for him to come undone. And Jeongguk knows this, that Taehyung has the most sensitive nipples known to man; he would react and jump to even the slightest touch to them.

The little shit grins down at him, pinching the nub between his fingers, a hint of pride in his gaze.

“So fucking sensitive. Always works in my advantage.”

“You’re making me regret this.”

“Uh–uh. No taksies backsies now,” Jeongguk drops a quick kiss to his lips, then he turns, catching the glance of the clock, he curses. “Shit. I only have seven minutes. Stop distracting me.”

It’s a miracle that Taehyung survived the next two minutes.

He should have known the sex is not going to be vanilla if it has to be climaxed under ten minutes. He had his thighs spread apart as far as he physically could, arching his back as Jeongguk roughly pumped three fingers and his tongue in and out of him. Taehyung was close to pleading for him to go easy on him because he couldn’t think he could survive another minute if Jeongguk kept going like that.

Jeongguk crams his fingers, and Taehyung cries out, knees buckling and toes curling, his hand flies to hold to grip at Jeongguk’s hair. “Oh, fuck.”

Jungkook laps at him, his teeth showing up to graze at the muscles around his rim, and Taehyung reels, arching and slamming a hand to his mouth to muffle the cry he feels rising. Taehyung burnt to wrap a hand around himself, his cock was aching, untouched and abandoned with a precum beading at the tip. Jeongguk ignored it completely. But he had to be patient for Jungkook. He knew he would take care of him.

Taehyung shyly raised his head to look, because he needed to see it – Jeongguk’s dark hair moving between his thighs, eyes shut in peaceful concentration, fingers harshly digging into the skin of his asscheeks from where he holds him open, and Taehyung prays they leave marks behind so he could stare at each of them in the mirror later. Oh fuck.

“Jeongguk–wait–I’m going to—”

Jeongguk doesn’t listen. The worst thing about being in a relationship with someone for years is that you know everything about them, from the things that tick them off to their prostate location. And Jeongguk uses that to his full advantage.

He drills his finger especially hard against his prostate now that he feels Taehyung is close, and Taehyung yelps like a wounded dog, trying to close his thighs around Jeongguk’s head who spreads it further apart with a scolding noise, delivering a light slap on his inner thigh.

Taehyung wants to cry, eyes closed and biting his lip for all of a second before Jeongguk fucks another gasp out of him. Taehyung’s heels stamps into his back with every thrust, and he unconsciously starts fucking himself onto Jeongguk’s tongue.

He would’ve been mortified if it didn’t feel so good.

Taehyung feels the weight lift off, the absence of the wet muscle and Taehyung tries not to whine.

“Looking so pretty all spread out for me, baby.”

Taehyung tries to curse him out, but fails, all out comes out is a gibberish mess and he feels Jeongguk’s breathy laughter on his thighs before he starts nibbling on the sensitive skin.

Then he was cumming.

With his mouth opening in a soundless moan, he clenches down, and Jeongguk speeds up, mercilessly drilling two fingers in his hole as he reaches his climax, untouched.

Taehyung thinks he sees stars.

He slumps down, breath heaving out as he tries to get his breathing under control. He feels like a jelly; if he gets up, he’s going to bash his head against the floor and die. Bad idea. Can’t get up. He was crying, he could feel it, tears leaking and dampening the pillow case behind him, but god did he feel good.

Through closed eyes, Taehyung could see a shadow hovering, then he feels a kiss to his forehead, down, and another on his cheek, the corner of his eyes, his chin, his jaw, the corner of his lips.

Then Jeongguk presses their lips together into a soft kiss, and Taehyung sighs, fingers slipping over Jeongguk’s shoulders and opening his mouth to welcome the tongue carefully slipping inside him, he tastes the artificial taste of strawberry from the lube, and undeniably himself.

“Nine minutes twenty-eight seconds. You didn’t even last ten.”

Taehyung raises a foot and brings it down on Jeongguk’s ass.

Jeongguk starts giggling on top of him. And Taehyung grumbles about swearing to celibacy just to make him suffer.

An undeniable sleepiness washes over him when Jeongguk cleans him and slumps beside him, taking him in his arms and kissing his head.

He starts drifting, and he knows he shouldn’t. He has a meeting to attend, but he feels content, and his mind is floating. Perhaps this is why he starts talking before he can catch up with what he’s saying.

“That’s not all your songs are about,” he mumbles into his pillow. “Sex. They are romantic. Love songs. You talk about being in love.”

Jeongguk moves closer to him. He feels something soft pressed to his cheek. A kiss.

“Well, I’m in love with you.”

Taehyung starts awake at the intensity Jeongguk says it. It unfurls something small inside him, the part that was insecure and scared, now it unleashes out in the sky free from its cage. Taehyung finds himself bursting at the seams. And he can’t stop the vulnerability when he blurts out his next words.

“Really?”

He lifts a hand and pulls at Jeongguk’s neck, nudging their noses together, but wants him closer, closer, closer until they are merged together and one can’t distinguish where he starts and where Jeongguk ends, wants Jeongguk on him, in him, just near him, but Jeongguk instantly halts him, pulling back and looking at Taehyung with slight confusion.

“Really?” he asks, incredulous. “Are you doubting my love for you now?”

Taehyung immediately shakes his head. The slight incline of his head added an inch to the gap between their lips.

“It’s just been a while,” he says, quick to assure. “It’s not the same over calls. I hadn’t heard you say that to me in person in months.”

Jeongguk softens. Eyes looking a little sad, dim. Taehyung hated that he was the reason they looked like that.

“That’s true. Video calls suck, right?”

Taehyung nodded, heart hammering in anticipation as Jeongguk gently rubbed their lips together.

“I love you,” Jeongguk whispers on his mouth, and Taehyung stops breathing altogether once again. “Of course, I love you. What would be my reason to breathe if I can’t love you every second of it? A waste.”

Taehyung smiles so wide he feels it bunching around his cheeks. “Did you just quote Breather to me?”

Jeongguk looks surprised. “You remember my lyrics? I’m kind of flattered you recognized it.”

“Of course I do,” Taehyung scoffs at the absurdity of the statement; he hikes the blanket further up his neck, drawn to Jeongguk’s body heat. “They are about me, right?”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything for a moment. When Taehyung raises his head, Jeongguk looks conflicted. “I… guess. Did you like it?”

“Is that a question? I love all your songs, bun.”

“Right.”

He grasps for Jeongguk’s hand, which is laced through his, Taehyung brings it his mouth and gives it a kiss, tucking it over his heart. He was about to fall asleep right there, and if he did, then he could miss the meeting and face the wrath of his wonderful assistant. He tries to stay awake, opens his mouth to tell Jeongguk to wake him in ten minutes, but something entirely else comes out of his mouth.

“Would you ever write me a song?” Taehyung asks the question he has asked countless times before.

He hears Jeongguk sigh beside him, as he has heard him do countless times before. “Aren’t all my songs yours in a way?”

Taehyung smiles sleepily at the response that remains unchanging for years.

He tells himself it’s okay, it’s nothing to mull about, fret over, all his songs are Taehyung’s anyway.

He pretends it satisfies that greedy, ugly chunk of him that wants just one with his name all over it.

“Jeongguk has never written a song about you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung feels like he’s been punched in the stomach, knocked out of all the breath in the world.

“What?” He looks away from the music sheets he was browsing while waiting for Jeongguk, brows furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

It comes out as a snap, a little angry. Namjoon winces, but he doesn’t look apologetic or whatsoever; he simply shrugs. “You think those songs are about you, and you’re upset he never dedicates them to you, right?” Taehyung nods, albeit a bit shakily. “Well, they are not.”

He feels his chest spark into an explosive emotion, contorting into different stabs of pain and Taehyung sucks in a sharp breath.

“But those songs he sings —” An unidentified frizzle of pain bustles into his chest at being lied to. Aren’t all my songs yours in a way? Hurt. “Who is he singing about then?”

“Not you. He writes for himself. But it’s not about you,” Namjoon shrugs uncaring about Taehyung’s disbelief as he bites into his burger. And he looks so casual while doing it, like he isn’t breaking Taehyung’s heart into tiny pieces with every word he spoke.

“He writes about himself,” he continues with his mouth full, waving a fry around. “What he’s feeling. What he wants. What are his desires. Which always ends up with you. He writes for you. You’re the audience he wants to impress. But he never wrote a song about you. He thinks he can’t.”

“Can’t?” Taehyung breaths. “He never wrote me a song.”

“No,” Namjoon smiles, and it’s small, apologetic, mayonnaise smeared around his lips, it’s an attempt at comfort. It’s not his fault it doesn’t work. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Tae. I’m just trying to—” Namjoon pauses, looking at his fries, brows knitted. “—explain. It’s not easy for him write about you. He thinks you’re way beyond the constraints of being limited within the architecture of words. It’s impossible. He hates his own songs because of that.”

“He hates his own songs?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, taking another big bite, shoving down a bunch of fries right after, voice gibberish when he speaks next. “hee fink he can neber puh inna wuhds bout wuh he feems foh yuu. Dey —” a gulp. “They never sit well with him. The writing process is the hardest chore because he changes lyrics until the last minute and sometimes they are trashed. Yoongi almost throws him off the stairs. If it were up to him, he would never write a song that has anything to do with you. But you make him feel, the best emotions, it’s good for us, the band. He’s like our own Chevrolet Small Block V8 engine, never running out of words.”

“What about all the love songs?” Taehyung finds himself asking, digging the hole deeper as his curiosity can’t seem to be tamed. “And those–those explicit songs. I don’t know how to feel about the fact that my boyfriend writes songs about sex and it has nothing to do with me.”

“Good point. But if you focus, he’s never describing the other person’s traits; he sings about what they make him feel. It’s about the emotion rather than the person.”

They.

Who the fuck is they.

“Right.”

Namjoon sighs. “I’ve seen him try. To gift you something for your birthday or a special occasion but I’m guessing he never showed them to you?”

“Uh– not really.”

“Figured.”

“Does that make me his muse?” Taehyung asks, almost giving up on that thought when Namjoon snaps his gaze at him in incredulity. “You said I make him feel. So does that make me his muse?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon drops his burger, deep creases carving into the skin of his forehead as he looks to the side in deep thought. “I guess? A lot of things makes Jeongguk feel. But you have to ask him, Tae. I can’t be sure.”

“Right. I will.”

It’s a lot to take in. His heart beats thousands beats a second trying to keep up with everything he has learned in the matter of five minutes. He looks out the window where the sun is scathing. It’s a chilly inside Namjoon’s studio, something the label rented for them to decamp to for their new album which has a lot more experimental and diverse concept.

Jeongguk explained to him but Taehyung can’t seem to remember right now. He doesn’t know how he feels about this new knowledge.

Jeongguk never wrote him a song.

And now, when he thinks about it, he feels stupid. He wants to die in shame over how many times he confidently assumed that any love song coming out of Jeongguk was about him.

He was living a lie. And Jeongguk was just too nice to tell him otherwise.

“You think I love you enough to write you a song?”

He thought that was a jest.

Now he doesn’t know what’s true or what is a lie he has been conjuring up in his head this entire time.

“My meeting starts at eight.”

There are few times in life that things just don’t go according to plan. Your daughter might have a recital you promised you’d never miss, but at the last minute you get a call that if you didn’t attend a certain meeting the company is going to bankrupt, or you were you were supposed to spend your life with someone, you got engaged, you got married, but things didn’t work out, so you divorced.

There is no stability in life that deters that things will go according to plans just because you made those in the first place. Universe is an asshole. It eats up people’s turmoil, and you’re left helpless, mobile, against the spiral it sends you into sometimes, can’t do anything but embrace it, you apologize, you make plans again, you move forward.

Jeongguk pauses from where he was packing his toiletries in front of the open suitcase. He turns towards him, his face washed of all expression, but Taehyung can detect the little bewilderment his eyes are flashing.

The phone pings in his hand once again, and Taehyung scrambles to speak. “I’ll try to wrap it up by nine-thirty and I’ll be there around ten—”

“The show will be over by then.”

The grating monotony of his voice verges on apathetic but he looks anything but. Taehyung finds dread bursting at the seams when Jeongguk completely turns to regard him with a tight frown etched on his face.

“So, you’re not coming?”

“I’m coming! Of course, I’m coming. I’ll just be a little late—”

“When? When the show is over and everybody is going home?” Jeongguk snaps, the betrayal so hot in his tone that Taehyung could feel it on his tongue.

He rakes a frustrated hand over his face. And the prickly return with full force inside him. Except this time, it spread throughout his chest. It’s rare Jeongguk ever gets mad at Taehyung for something he can’t control. It seems all hell is breaking loose today.

“I told you to free your schedule for Saturday, Taehyung. I told you so many times! You said you’d be there. It’s the last show. The last fucking show.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. The board moved the meeting up without consulting me first. And there have been problems with our tenants back in Korea. Japanese are being agonizing to work with, and if I don’t go—”

“You’re flying to Korea?” Jeongguk asks in sheer disbelief, almost shouts it.

Taehyung’s mouth snaps shut.

“Taehyung? Were you really going to leave without me?”

“No!” The longer they talked, they more he messed up, and the deeper he could feel the anger and betrayal emanating from Jeongguk. It’s not often they fight, but when they do, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that leaves him in a shitty mood for the rest of the day that would make him snap at everyone for the smallest inconvenience.

He hates confrontations. He hates them specifically with Jeongguk because the other knew him too well. Taehyung couldn’t bullshit him around.

“We’re leaving tomorrow together, but, I—” Taehyung pauses, searching for the right words.

He’s already so fucking stressed, he has an emergency meeting with his partners because Japanese are pain in the ass to deal with. A major Japanese competitor is pressuring brands not to sign with them, something about Korean Conglomerates not understanding the Japanese consumers. It’s bullshit, but high end brands in Japan are extremely selective, and has already pulling their hands back from the deal. Taehyung can’t fucking do this right now. He can’t lie and pull at loose strings in hope for some solace.

“But if the situation doesn’t relax there–then I guess I have to fly out tonight.”

Jeongguk remains quiet where he stood, and the silence that follows Taehyung’s spiel is again thick with awkwardness. It bit Taehyung like needles on his skin.

Jeongguk pursed his lips, looking cold, sounding even worse. “So, you’re not coming.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Fuck,” Jeongguk averts his eyes towards the ceiling. Taehyung wants to comfort him. But he doesn’t know how to without breaking down into frustrated tears himself. He hopes for a little understanding because he’s so done with being yelled at, but it seems like nothing is working in his favors these days.

He’s fucking up a billion-dollar deal and he’s fucking up his relationship.

Jeongguk looks at him defeated, and Taehyung doesn’t understand. He had missed shows before, unfortunately, work do sometimes comes in the way, but Jeongguk always understands. Taehyung has never been on the receiving end of such a visceral reaction. It’s almost like something Jeongguk isn’t telling him.

Fidgeting on his spot, Taehyung takes a slow step ahead, reaching a hand out to grip at Jeongguk’s forearm, grounding himself with the touch.

“I’ll try my best but I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it—”

“Don’t go,” Jeongguk pleads, sort of desperately and Taehyung’s heart clenches. Jeongguk catches his hand, gripping it tightly between his, as if that would somehow make Taehyung stay. “C’mon, hyung, please.”

“Jeonggukie.”

“I want you there.” The words are almost breathed into his mouth, a warm palm gliding down to his waist, erasing the little distance and lightly kissing the corner of his mouth.

Taehyung shuts his eyes close as Jeongguk noses at his cheek, his lashes ticking, lightly dragging impatient kisses to the skin closest to his lips as he speaks, but avoids his lips. Taehyung wonders if Jeongguk is punishing him somehow.

“Please. I’ve missed you. I want you to be there tonight. All tour, all six months, every exhausting mile of it – I was thinking about this night. About you in the crowd.” Jeongguk speaks softly, and Taehyung melts. He almost surrenders, letting their foreheads rest against each other. “Please–just postpone it, hyung. You can do it tomorrow, just not today.”

But he can’t. There are people depending on Taehyung. People he can’t disappoint.

Taehyung’s shoulder slumps. “Jeonggukie – bun – I can’t.”

The hands leave him. Jeongguk’s body follows. Taehyung’s left clutching the air as Jeongguk goes back to packing his suitcase, throwing t-shirt and pants alike without even folding them. He almost looks normal, and Taehyung wouldn’t suspect anything is wrong if Taehyung didn’t knew his anger ticks.

Jeongguk really isn’t the type to raise his voice in arguments, or slam doors, or spit cruel words he doesn’t mean. His anger spews in different forms, the worst one is him ignoring the hell out of Taehyung.

Jeongguk picks up his phone and Taehyung takes a step forward, hands going to wrap around his wrist, making to weave their fingers together.

“I’ll come back as soon as it’s over.”

Jeongguk shrugs his hand off. “There’s no need. Take your suitcase and take a flight home.”

He hates how harshly his heart deflates. “Jeonggukie – don’t be like this – you know I would rather –”

“Hey, Hobi. Are you downstairs? Yeah. Cool. Can you take me to the venue? Great. I’ll be there in five.”

Taehyung's nails digs into his skin as he watches Jeongguk. It goes on for five more minutes before Jeongguk acknowledges his presence still in the room.

“You’re still here? Jeongguk asks, eyes lifted and mocking. “You have many important things to do, Mr. Kim. Take a leave, or you’ll be late.”

Taehyung presses his lips as he watches Jeongguk’s indifferent attitude. If he could stay, he would have.

“I’ll see you at home.”

Jeongguk doesn’t answer him.

“Stage in fifty seconds.”

The announcement buzzes into his ear and his hands trembled with anticipation. The backstage is a labyrinth of mess with people running around him doing last minute preparations. His manager is barking orders while his makeup artist is fixing glitter on his open chest, someone from the technical team hands him his in ears and his mic.

Jeongguk can hear them, even from backstage. The loud screams and cheers of the fans and he feels an electric vibration of anticipation tingling in his skin.

“Is today’s concert streamed live?”

Another last-minute makeup artist rushes over, fixes something on his face with a brush before disappearing again. He glances over at Yoongi who is scrolling his phone with an irritated frown.

“No. But your fans might stream illegally. The label is on duty to take them down. Not that it’s gonna leak the set list or anything if you’re worried about that. It’s the last show. Bon adieu, baby.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

He opts to roll the microphone between the palms of his hands, shaking off the last of his nerves. The performance was only mere seconds away from starting. He has no reason to be nervous. His only reason is probably an ocean away. It’s a kick in the gut to know he is not here today. The day Jeongguk has been waiting for so fucking long.

“Can you request them to not take down any streams today?”

“Huh,” Yoongi looks up from his phone to flash him a confused look. “Weird request, but sure. Why though?”

“Nothing. Just don’t take anything down today.”

He is handed his electric guitar. The body was a gorgeous black matt with metallic blue when lights shone upon it. It was custom made. There’s a tiny scratch on the lacquer near the neck joint. A mark from Taehyung’s ring the first time he visited his studio and leaned too close to kiss him while Jeongguk was tuning.

The guitar had slipped from his hand and to the floor. At the beginning when they were messing around, the butterflies he felt around Taehyung were almost feral. The need to be close to him, to touch him for no reason, the need to tuck his hair behind his ear and trace his smile with his own every time he blinked had sent Jeongguk into a clusterfuck.

The butterflies are still there, but tamed. There is no feral flapping of wings when Taehyung smiles at him, it’s calm, familiar, a flutter, an acknowledgment of how much Taehyung still affects him, how the fluttery insects get drunk on Taehyung, dig into his stomach to get out, look at the source of their intoxication with their own eyes.

He traces the scratch and loses sight of the backstage, instead, he replaces it with imagery of five years ago, of dim lights, his guitar on his lap, and a body wrapped around his back.

He had fucked Taehyung in the studio that night. The place he doesn’t even allow anyone to eat or drink, because it’s that sacred for him, has seen cum dripping down Taehyung’s thighs and heard him crying on his shoulder from the overstimulation.

Jeongguk broke many rules that night. He ordered food and ate greasy burger and fries and strawberry milkshake on the floor of his studio. He kissed Taehyung out of sex, and when Taehyung almost shyly asked him if he could stay to watch him work, Jeongguk had entered another realm from disbelief of it all.

They talked the entire night about everything and nothing, between giggles and full-blown laughter, they kissed some more. At some point in the night, Jeongguk felt brave enough to tuck that stubborn piece of hair behind Taehyung’s ear. And Jeongguk had learned that there were other measures to feel high, sort of dumb and drunk, such as when Taehyung gifts him with a blush when Jeongguk does anything remotely romantic.

Taehyung stayed over, bundled up in the blanket on the couch he kept in his studio for quick naps, features relaxed and asleep.

Jeongguk, adjacent to him, on the floor, on this guitar, wrote the biggest hit of his career that night.

“Jeongguk?”

“It’s really nothing.” Jeongguk straps the guitar along his neck and removes his hair from underneath the strap. He steps on to the stage lift, crouching down on it so that he could be propelled up onto the stage. “It’s the last show. Let them enjoy. An uh– Taehyung might be watching. So.”

“He’s not coming?” The surprise is clear in his voice. It’s a simple question, but Jeongguk nitpicks at it. It irritates him. Because he thinks Yoongi’s pitying him.

“He has a meeting.”

Jeongguk focuses on wiring his mic, but he notices Yoongi furrowing his brows in obvious confusion. “Didn’t he clear his schedule for tonight?”

“It was last-minute. Wasn’t his fault.”

And it wasn’t. Jeongguk doesn’t blame Taehyung in any way. He knows the Japan deal is huge for Taehyung's company and it’s been stressing him out for months now. Jeongguk being a petty child on top of all the accumulating stress must be the last thing Taehyung needed.

“Stage in ten seconds.”

“I’m sure he’ll be watching.” Yoongi pats him on the shoulder and Jeongguk nods.

The next second, he feels himself being boosted upwards. He sucks in one last breath, holding back the jitters before he’s launched onto the stage with a flurry of motion.

The light blinds him for a second, the noise deafening. His eyes adjust to clear to a view of a sparkling purple ocean that still feels like a dream. In the background, the familiar beginning beats of Hoseok’s drumsticks start the show.

Jeongguk grins.

The audience erupts.

“Kiyoko, turn the car around.”

Kiyoko turns sharply towards him, eyes growing wide but she does as told. “Where to, sir?”

“Tokyo Dome.”

Taehyung feels the moment the car takes a U-turn, and his breath starts flowing a little better through his lungs, still choked up, but he can breathe.

The fight with Jeongguk left an uneasy feeling in his chest. It’s muddled of so many times he can’t even keep a count. He’s on edge, anxious and perturbed. He couldn’t explain it, but he just knows that if he left the country while Jeongguk is upset with him, he’s going to regret it.

There is also fear that slams into him at regular intervals. What if this is it? What if Jeongguk is really done with Taehyung and his inconsiderate tendency to always be unavailable when he needs him? Jeongguk wasn’t lying when he said he had reminded Taehyung many times to clear his schedule for today, that he needed him there, for one last show.

Taehyung couldn’t even give him that.

Anger is not an emotion he usually wears, he often fortifies his contention with cerebral pressure. However, he can’t say the same for today. His head fucking hurts, and he’s sure if he gets one more call, he’s going to hurl the device across the car.

All he wanted was an evening. But he can’t have that. He wanted to spend the day with his boyfriend. But he can’t have that either. A break? He can’t have that. A lazy day? He can’t have that. He can’t have anything.

“Lock down the Japanese heritage brands. I want them approached directly. Send them an invitation for a private dinner under my name.”

“Understood,” Kiyoko doesn’t look up from her laptop, already typing. It again reminds him how well she works around his mood. Taehyung needs to give her an early Christmas bonus.

“Next, please call Chairman Park and tell him to deal with the shipment delay. I want the contingency routing approved within the day. Not a second of delay.”

“Chairman Park isn’t in Seoul at the moment,” Kiyoko replies. “Should I coordinate through his assistant, sir?”

“Go ahead. Let them know I’m unavailable due to a family matter and extend my apologies. Also, ask HR to circulate a notice to our tenants. There will be no inflated duties passed on due to the tariff situation. Tell them to fucking relax. I don’t want unnecessary concern spreading through the partner network because of their stupid loud mouth.”

“Got it, sir.” Kiyoko brows are tightened fingers flying across the keyboard. Taehyung shuts the report and puts it on an empty seat beside him.

He tries to relax but his nerves are acting up again, the moths making their presence known with a maddening buzz that drains out nearly all other thoughts from his brain.

“What are we going to do about the Takahashi Holdings?” Kiyoko suddenly wonders, her glasses falling down her nose. And Taehyung is grateful for the distraction. “Even if we get the heritage brands to sign with us, I don’t think the other high end brands are going to like the power tip.”

Taehyung looks out of the window, his foot tapping dangerously close to digging a hole into the car’s bottom from all the pent up energy.

“That is a fair concern. Please call Seokjin at Media Corp. I need something placed in the market by morning.” Taehyung checks the time. 6:20. Shit. He’s already late. “A rumor. That Kim Conglomerates is in preliminary discussions with Takahashi Holdings regarding a joint platform – something framed around Korean-Japanese craftsmanship and heritage retail.”

Kiyoko freezes.

There is a look of complete mayhem as her head snaps towards Taehyung in incredulity.

“Sir?”

“Any question, Kiyoko?”

“Are we going to work with Takahashi Holdings?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Takahashi Holdings are foul players. They work on mediaplay and hostile takeovers. They like to corner, so we’ll give them a corner. Play with them a little.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“Did you draft the email, Kiyoko? Good. Make sure the rumor is strong enough to circulate in the Japanese business press by tomorrow morning. Once it makes noise here, we will follow up with try to reconnect with our anchors and curators. Make sure they are aware if they don’t work with us, they are against us. And Kim’s don’t go easy on their rivals.”

“Oh,” Kiyoko’s brows shoot up his hairline. “It’s an intimidation tactic. We aren’t really working with them.”

“Of course not. Takahashi threatened our anchors into backing out from the deal. What do you think will be their response if they heard the rumor of Takahashi joining the Kim’s?”

“They will think Takahashi manipulated them, kicked them to the side so they can have the Kim deal.”

“Correct.”

“A dirty trick,” Kiyoko shakes her head, amazement and sick delight flickering on her young features. “I’m rubbing off on you, sir.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and checks the time. He appreciates her trying to lift his aggravated mood but it really won’t settle until he sees Jeongguk.

He checks his phone. And there are two ticks after his messages this time, meaning Jeongguk has seen his messages before going to the stage, but chose to leave him on read.

To: rockstar <3

I’m sorry again, bun

I’ll make it up to you I promise

I love you

Seen 29 minutes ago

Taehyung chooses not to dwell on it. His boyfriend did have tendency to make Taehyung work for it, so he’s not complaining. He’s going to work for it regardless.

When he makes to venue, he’s already an hour late. The security team near the side VIP lobby recognizes him immediately, and Taehyung doesn’t even have to waste time whipping out his VIP pass to allow entry. Although, he had to wait for Kiyoko to get her suite access wristband before he is whisking her along with him.

The familiar a soft voice crooning from the speakers joined by the thousands of fans singing along echoes in the stadium. The guitar and the drums are in perfect symphony and Taehyung feels like he could finally breathe. He made it.

He takes off his suit and deposits it on the plush couch. He never felt so old cladded in his suit from head to toe while people around him are so comparatively young and wild. He loosens his tie, rolling up the sleeves, he helps himself with some champagne from the bar before making his way to the small balcony.

Kiyoko comes to him then, patting him on the shoulder with a somber expression.

“Don’t worry about anything now. I’ll be the big boss while you enjoy your boyfriend’s show. Please leave your mighty empire on my name when you retire.”

Taehyung huffs a laugh as she excuses herself to enter the lounge to make some important calls, and Taehyung has no doubt she is going to handle everything perfectly.

No doubt he is going to be dumped with never ending work the moment he is out of here.

For now, he enjoys the concert.

The crowd is huge, ablaze. He catches many red “Will you be my valentine?” posters and red outfits, but Taehyung can’t move his eyes away from the lone star in the middle of the stage belting his little heart out into the microphone.

A strange feeling like pride and happiness melded together whams through his chest when he sees Jeongguk in his element.

I wanna be defined by the things that I love

I wanna be defined by you

Taehyung thinks back to the beginning.

He doesn’t remember when it started. How it started. Jeongguk came like a whiplash in his life. One second he was on the stage at Kim’s Charity Gala, the next he had Taehyung pressed against the door of a suite he doesn’t remember booking. It was quick work of shedding of clothes and heated kisses pressed against skin. Letting free of any restraints, Taehyung had allowed Jeongguk burrow his claim deep inside him. It didn’t stop there. It happened again, and again, and again; they ruined each other for anyone else.

Taehyung knew men like Jeongguk. Rockstars who sing brashness onto the stage, rebellious and charismatic, ripping anger and passion and sex apart and bleeding them into one with their basses and self-destructive attitude. They will romance you, flirt with you, make you feel on top of the world with their attention directed to you like you’re the only source of light in their life that could tame their neurotic tendencies.

Men who’ll kiss you, dedicate you songs because you evoked a new emotion. Men who’ll tell you that you’re special. Men who’ll get you into bed, have rough, demanding sex over and over again, then discard you once you’re no longer needed.

Jeongguk was known as the stereotypical rockstar who would do the deed and never look back at the person he was gripping at his climax ever again, leave them on the floor, dirty and messy with no care, or decorum of decency.

Or so people thought.

The song changes and Kiyoko joins him by the balcony. They start bopping their heads during Hoseok’s solo. The drum, followed by the tease of the bass is too good of a lure to resist, not to forget Hoseok’s sleeveless jacket with no t-shirt has people fainting in the crowd.

Taehyung is sure he heard some shameless moaning when the rockstar emptied a bottle of water on his head mid show.

During last song before the main set is over, Jeongguk gets on his knees at the edge of the stage, there are hands are all over his body as he strings the guitar strapped around his neck with an utmost devotion.

Long hair tied back and exposed tattoos covering one arm, dressed in black leather pants taut around his thighs, and tight fitted plain white tee.

He looks nothing but a man walking temptation.

And he’s all Taehyung’s.

got me cursing when I go down your hips

thinking too loud ‘bout the shape of your lips

The public thinks of Jeongguk as this untouchable god. Glorious and unbeatable, dangerous and never settling down. It sold well with the rockstar fantasy: take, burn, disappear.

People ate it up.

But it contradicts a lot with the type of lover Jeongguk actually was.

Because Jeongguk, as a person, was gentle, curious and calm, almost shy, goofy. An absolute brat. Jeongguk touched Taehyung like he was god. With the most tender hands. There was only love and love. Even when they were just hooking up, Taehyung never felt like a cheap fuck or small afterwards. Jeongguk would always be there after, he would ask, not assume, offer him food, water, he paused when Taehyung’s breathe changed, murmured apologies if he thought he’d gone too far. He’d even let Taehyung rest and cling to him for second too long.

And Taehyung had never been able to reconcile it: the man who sang like he’d leave someone on the floor was the same man who would tuck a blanket over Taehyung’s legs afterwards and shake his ass over the Mickey Mouse theme song.

But that’s a version of him only Taehyung gets to witness.

Not for the first time, Taehyung wishes Jeongguk would fold him into a song too.

He wonders if Jeongguk ever wrote a song with him in mind.

Probably not.

I pray that someone will ask me

So I can talk about you more

What was he like? Was he kind?

Does he make you feel that dangerous kind of high?

It’s a wistful desire, almost childish, and Taehyung is aware of it. He doesn’t need a song to know Jeongguk loves him. But he’s a human after all, he craves for a permanence, and songs are permanent.

They get replayed years later, carried by strangers, translated into different languages, sung in cars and bedrooms and crowded arenas. A song is kind of an imprint. And Taehyung selfishly wants to be imprinted.

He wants to be written into a verse the way other people are written into history. He wants to hear his presence in the spaces between chords, to recognize himself in a line that leaves people gasping in envy. He wants the world to know, just once, that the man they worship already belongs to someone.

He wants to be an artist’s muse.

He wants to be Jeongguk’s muse.

“Do you think I love you enough to write you a song?”

But Jeongguk doesn’t love him enough to write him a song yet. And Taehyung thinks that’s okay.

Although my heart is mine

It is filled with you

so when the bugs start eating at my heart

All they will ever taste is you

Jeongguk ruled over his privacy like a tight grip. Perhaps because since a young age, he was not allowed the privilege to remain in the shadows. People knew everything about him, mostly through word of mouth or extensive stalking.

This was most apparent in how he handled questions about Taehyung. Everybody knows they are in a serious relationship for years. Yet, Jeongguk vehemently avoids talking about him and their relationship in the public.

“How’s Mr. Kim?” “Are you seeing your boyfriend after this?” “What does your boyfriend think about—” Jeongguk answers are always clipped, short, and not a word more than needed when it concerns Taehyung. “He’s doing well.” “I have plans.” “No comments.”

Anything intrusive is immediately shut down. Perhaps because Jeongguk is well aware how public scrutiny scares the shit out of him. And perhaps this is why Jeongguk actively goes out of his way to keep Taehyung out of the whole paparazzi shitdown as much as he can.

The only sign of their relationship still going forward, thriving, is on Jeongguk’s Instagram.

His profile photo had not changed in years. It’s of their back facing the camera, bundled in thick winter coats with their heads together, hands wrapped around cups of hot chocolate with a blanket of snow permeated all over around them.

Their faces aren’t clearly visible beside the small turn of Taehyung’s cheek where he is leaned to kiss Jeongguk’s.

It wasn’t the grandest love gesture, but it was so Jeongguk, that he always finds himself smiling a bit too hard when he clicks on his story.

He also finds it thrilling that other people are required to brush that picture, to acknowledge his presence before they could peek a glimpse at Jeongguk’s life.

Taehyung couldn’t have asked for more.

“The next song is a surprise song,” Jeongguk’s forehead is glistening with sweat and his t-shirt sticks to his body, the white fabric almost translucent. Taehyung steps closer to the barrier in interest. “It’s not on the set list. It’s not released, and it probably would never be released. All GLDN’s fans tonight, I love you. We love you. But this song is not meant for your ears. You guys are not supposed to hear this, hum this, enjoy this at all. Please plug your ears for next three minutes.”

There is a collective whine from the audience, and on the big screen, Jeongguk’s lips are tucked up in a wild grin.

“Don’t whine, you guys. I’ll sing two mor—”

Jeongguk pauses, head snapping to the side. He is looking down at the barricade where thousands of phones are facing their shiny glint. Someone yells something, and Jeongguk huffs a quiet laugh into the mic, breathy and abashed, looking so so beautiful. The tips of his ears are flushed, his neck following soon.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s a confession.”

Taehyung straightens up. There is roar of hooting that takes over the crowd. People are going feral, screaming, and crying for more information.

“It’s dedicated to someone very special. You might have an idea who.” Jeongguk grins, teases, pushing his hair back off his sweaty forehead, leaving people scrambling. “I wrote this mess of a confession in one night. It doesn’t have a name, because… I really don’t think it deserves one. It’s just an attempt. Self-explanatory on its own.”

Taehyung frowns and blinks a couple times. Kiyoko squeals loudly beside him, jumping and hitting Taehyung’s arm repeatedly in elation. Some people turn to look at the commotion, their eyes widening when they recognize him. Instantly, there are gasps, arms being elbowed, cheers and screams turning towards him as people point their phones to record his reaction.

But Taehyung can’t think of anything over the repeated buzz of

It’s dedicated to someone very special

It’s dedicated to someone very special

It’s dedicated to someone very special.

“This song will not be put on any of my albums. Not because it’s not good, or it’s unworthy. It’s personal, it’s raw and it’s ours. I’m not putting a price tag on it. I hope you guys understand.”

A confused roar echoes from the crowd. And Taehyung’s brain completely blanks. His heart drums like crazy in his chest. And he stops listening to whatever is Kiyoko screaming into his ears. All he sees, all that matters, is Jeongguk thumbing at that spot on his guitar, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he drags his eyes over the crowd like he’s looking for something, someone.

“I see you’re here,” Jeongguk’s tone changes. It’s so drastically different from how he normally converses. The tenor lowers, almost like a soft timbre, velvety.

Filled with love.

So much love.

“Thank the fuck you’re here. I missed you. So, I wrote you a song. You always wanted a song and I never wrote you one. Though, all my songs have been yours in one way or another.”

The crowd goes crazy. In the fleeting corner of his conscience, he can hear Kiyoko shrieking louder, but it’s too muted, everything around is. He feels like he’s in a loop, stranded, a marionette, pulled into his direction like a pied piper commanding his moves.

He can’t focus on anything else besides Jeongguk’s shy expression. He strings the guitar, and the crowd quietens immediately, patiently waiting with bated breaths. Taehyung is no better.

“But I want you to know one thing,” Jeongguk continues, the stringing imperceptibly starts taking a shape of a melody. A familiar melody. Fuck. “So take the truth straight from the source. Straight from my heart. This isn’t a love song.” In the background, Hoseok slowly joins in with the drums, the keyboard quickly following suit. “It’s an apology. An apology to my muse. I love you.”

The drums stop, and Jeongguk leans into the mic.

what good is love for,

If the sweetness of a kiss

Doesn’t make you feel capable of anything

Just so you can taste it again

And again, and again

The song start slow, like one of the love songs people write about undying love and devotion, the first line is sung even gently, so carefully weaved, calm and centered, voice breezy, sounding like new beginnings, of love, of home, of Taehyung. It leaves him trembling.

They ask me where’s the one about him?

Why haven’t you written one yet?

He huffs into the mic like annoyed. Disappointed.

Like you’re just another name

another pretty muse

I could fold into a melody

And let the world consume

For few cheap bucks

and hits to my gamut

He sings like he’s narrating a story. And maybe he is, because the story sounds too familiar. Taehyung has lived this song before. The one time Jeongguk came home with pent-up aggression, grumbling into Taehyung’s neck about some label producer being on his neck to write a love song.

Taehyung couldn’t see the problem then, because Jeongguk was an incredible songwriter. But now he gets it. He never found out what happened with that producer, or whether Jeongguk ever wrote the song they wanted from him, but he thinks he has his answers now.

What would I even call it?

Track five: “The Love of My Life.”

Limited edition love song

Now available in stores?

No.

He feeds anger into the mic like a growl. Displeased. The anger is protective. The tempo speeds up, Jeongguk strings over the wires roughly, eyebrows dangerously furrowed, almost offended in a way it buzzes into the speakers.

Humans are greedy.

They want what shines, then they strip it to bones

With no conscience

I’ve seen what happens to beautiful things

once they’re made portable

I’m not letting that happen with you

Not a fucking chance

They’ll hold it too loosely,

like it’s not my fucking heart

The anger is protective, with that possessive grip to keep what is his from the scrutinizing eyes of the public who pick everything apart with their encroaching steps.

The producer wanted Jeongguk to write a song about him. Jeongguk didn’t write it – couldn’t – write it, because he doesn’t want strangers to think they could relate to him, to a love like theirs.

The melody changes, turns into something more slow tempoed, a hum, soft and when Jeongguk leans into the mic, Taehyung sees that he’s smiling.

You ask me;

why have you never written one for me?

How.

A huff of laughter. It’s lovely, it’s fond. Jeongguk’s eyes flick towards where VIP suites are situated. Taehyung doesn’t know if Jeongguk can see him but he grips the railing tightly, almost leans over it. I’m here. I’m here.

Jeongguk sings the next lyrics looking straight at him, sings it, whispers it gently into the mic, like a whiff of cold breeze fluttering against the warm skin.

How do I write you a song?

You, who’s my whole damn world 

When words transcends your existence

Tie my tongue with itself

Taehyung couldn’t understand it then but Namjoon was right. Jeongguk hasn’t written him a song because he loves him less, but because he thinks he can’t.

But maybe if I loved you less

I could write about you more

Decorate you with sweet metaphors

And sell you like a song

It was never about love. Because love in his quiet ways, has always been there. Jeongguk doesn’t want to sell a song that’s about Taehyung. He doesn’t want people to sing a song that’s about Taehyung. He doesn’t think Taehyung is unworthy of a song, he thinks he’s too holy for a cheapness of one.

This ain’t a love song

This one is only for you

In the way

A fist is about a heartbeat

an attempt

The chorus starts, and the crowd joins in, swaying on their spot. Taehyung belatedly realizes people are recording him, and he really doesn’t it mind it this time. Maybe for just once he’ll allow himself to get out of his comfort zone too.

The melody returns back to the original tune that started it all, the one Taehyung heard in the hotel room and Jeongguk lied, closed his notebook and changed the topic, kissed him so he wouldn’t ask again.

He wanted to surprise him. Taehyung muffles a laugh. No wonder he lost his shit when Taehyung told him he couldn’t come.

The song slowly fades, almost a whisper bleeding his last few drops into the speakers with Jeongguk’s hand on his guitar, signifying it will end soon. Jeongguk’s eyes are closed, hair sticking to his forehead in cluster, he breaths into the mic one last time.

But maybe if I loved you less

I could write about you more

Decorate you with sweet metaphors

And sell you like a song

Jeongguk slips out through a side exit to the parking lot, hoodie pulled up. And he finds him scrolling through his phone, fingers drumming against the surface of the car. Once again, unbeknownst to him, the light fans through him, and bathes him in the glow. He looks like a normal guy waiting for his boyfriend rather than a CEO in his haute couture black slacks and a crisp, white button up.

He wears the exertion of the night, suit blazer missing, and vest partway unzipped and sleeves rolled up, his tie is loose and shirt untucked, dark hair tousled from running his hair through it. He looks exhausted, yet it disappears the moment he catches the sight of Jeongguk walking towards him.

Taehyung straightens up, eyes going wide for a second, then softer.

“What are you doing here?” It’s the first sentence he manages to get out, crossing his arms as he regards his boyfriend with narrowed eyes.

“I was invited,” Taehyung clicks his phone shut and puts it in his pocket, resting both his hands there as he tilts his chin at Jeongguk in question. “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung looks intimidating like this. He also looks hot like this, but that’s not important.

Jeongguk narrows his eyes slightly as he steps closer. “Someone stole my car, and my driver, and my two band mates are nowhere to be found. Any idea what’s up with that, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung’s eyes grow round. Caught.

“Uh-huh. And my manager told me – no he was pestering me to hurry up, because someone was waiting for me,” he drags a finger around to emphasis the place. “here.”

“Well, Kiyoko was tipsy. So I asked the hyungs to drop her at our hotel.”

“That’s great, but why my car? I see one in perfect condition behind you.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightens, and Jeongguk knows he’s treading a very dangerous line. Irritating Taehyung would probably end up with Taehyung stranding him in the middle of an empty parking lot.

“Nobody drives my car.”

“Your driver drives your car.”

“Nobody drives my car besides my driver.”

Jeongguk snorts. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Less than you.” Taehyung scoffs. “You’re so aggravating.”

“M’kay, baby. Keep the insults coming.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and Jeongguk swore his heart fell for him a little more.

“I wanted to catch you, okay? That’s what you wanted to hear? I wanted make sure you come home with me, Mr. Jeon. And I’m going to take you home no matter what complaints you have.”

“I don’t have any complaints,” Jeongguk grabs his shirt and gently pulls him a little closer, distance between them too vast.

He strokes the material of his shirt – chest – soft, study.

“What happened to the meeting?” he asks because he really wants to know. From what Yoongi confirmed, Taehyung arrived way before the encore.

Taehyung shrugs his shoulder. “Didn’t work out. They weren’t happy with the last minute virtual meeting.”

“Did I cause you a loss?”

Taehyung bites his lips to hold back a smile as he shakes his head. He takes a step closer. “Nah. Just a small delay. I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Taehyung sounds disgruntled as he brings Jeongguk’s hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “Nothing for you to be sorry about. It’s my choice to be here. They weren’t going to negotiate with us either way, I could tell.”

“What are you going to do now?” Jeongguk takes a step closer into his space too, the tips of their shoes touching. Taehyung’s hand lets go of his to trail it up his wrist.

“I’ll tell you later?”

They stand there, close enough that their chest almost graze when one of them breath, neither of them rush to fill the silence.

Jeongguk takes another step even closer. Their noses slanting perfectly against each other. Jeongguk’s lungs fill. A mixture of warm breath, champagne and Taehyung, Taehyung’s soft musky cologne and their proximity takes over all his senses. Almost makes him choke.

Then his expecting eyes cast back up again, look right into Jeongguk’s. And it’s easy, obvious like the blood flowing in his veins, why Jeongguk can never write Taehyung into a song.

A stuttering breath escapes Taehyung, it hits Jeongguk straight into his face, and then, as softly as he can manage, Taehyung stutters, “Jeongguk.”

And Jeongguk thinks that’s enough. He wraps a hand around the knot of Taehyung’s tie and pulls him closer at the same time he pushes him up against the car door behind him, their lips smashing together somewhere in the middle as Jeongguk presses himself softly against Taehyung’s body.

It’s a tender kiss, lips meeting in a hello. Jeongguk thread a hand into his hair, turning his head and tugging him closer, and kisses him, his nose pressing into Taehyung’s cheek as latter's hand comes to rest by Jeongguk’s thudding heart, feeling him up as his other hand curls around his waist.

Jeongguk kisses him softly, gentle in a way which has him aching for more, but content at his disposition. He feels Taehyung’s lashes flicker open when they separate. Jeongguk’s thumb swipes at his cheekbone, anf Taehyung goes for one more, tugging his lip ring between his teeth, earning a sharp hiss from Jeongguk. Taehyung giggles and Jeongguk pinches the back of his neck in punishment.

Taehyung rubs their noses together. “Congratulations on the successful tour.”

Jeongguk catches Taehyung’s lower lip between his teeth, toys with it for a bit, grins. “Yeah? Are you my gift then?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and shoves him back.

The sound of fireworks going off overhead makes Jeongguk jump. The sudden muffled cheers of people down the street suddenly echoes out around them. They broke away from each other to look up. A sharp bloom of light lit up the sky above the stadium, followed by another, then a cascade of a symphony of colors. The sky brightens in bursts, gold and white reflecting off the glass buildings nearby.

Jeongguk tilts his head back.

“They’re probably just using everything up,” he says in explanation, tucking his hands inside his hoodie pockets; something solid bumps onto his hand, and Jeongguk gently thumbs at it as he watches the show. “End of the tour. Might as well.”

Taehyung hums, eyes on the lightened sky. Jeongguk feels him drifting close, two hands take a hold of his, he slowly wraps both his arms around Jeongguk’s, holding on it as he lays his head against the rockstar’s shoulder.

The rush that fills him was long missed and consuming, louder than any screams of a stadium filled with fans. The quiet night, moon and stars out, fireworks decorating the sky, it whooshes of air circulating his body. Looking down at their tangled arms, at Taehyung’s beautiful fingers, his palm resting on his bicep, eyes on the show.

He embraces the feeling.

Trailing his gaze, Jeongguk simply looks at him. The vibrant burst of color is filled inside Taehyung’s pupils, eyes bright and enamored. The knot of his tie is so loose that it nearly dangles over his chest where his shirt has been unbuttoned. His skin glistens golden, sweaty.

Jeongguk bites down on his lip ring.

For a while, they only watch. Taehyung enjoys the fireworks. Jeongguk simply enjoys watching him.

He didn’t lie, or exaggerate that he’s almost possessive over Taehyung and their relationship. He doesn’t like people meddling into it what he considers only his.

It’s not a doubt to anyone in the industry that Taehyung is his muse. Every record he produces, every lyric he spills on a paper has Taehyung all over it.

It’s not easy to write all the things Taehyung’s mere presence in his life makes him feel. Everything is tenfold with him. Every emotion is a new experience. Love when he laughs, lust when he takes off his clothes, adoration when he is playful, passion when they are tangled in bed, comfort when he sees Taehyung first thing in the morning, anger when he’s unfair, worry, jealousy. Fear, so much fear. Fear of losing him to someone else.

Fear of never satisfying Taehyung’s yearn for a song.

Fear of Taehyung never knowing how badly Jeongguk loves him.

He’s not good with words when it comes to saying them out loud. He’s good with pulling them on a paper and singing them into a void. But he can’t with Taehyung. He just has to learn to live with the fact that Taehyung would never fully understand the depth of his feelings.

Taehyung shifts his head to look at him and the stars reflected in his eyes match them better than any firework on a dark sky.

Jeongguk never believed he could be so in love.

Taehyung stares back at him, no question in his gaze on why Jeongguk is staring at him like that. His features are softened, gentle, like an angel, and Taehyung is an angel, he’s hardly ever mean. Even in the world of snakes and sly foxes he goes to work every day, he’s rarely ever cruel.

It’s strange how easy it is to exist beside each other like this.

Five years.

That number sits strangely when he thinks about it. He never believed in a forever. Things change. Constancy scares him.

Yet, with Taehyung…

What is Jeongguk thinking?

Jeongguk’s hand moves into his pocket.

Taehyung’ eyes shift back to the sky.

He takes a deep breath, doesn’t think much of it. It was a long time coming. Jeongguk is a lot of things, he’s improper, unruly, rebellious, he has tattoos, and he sings about fucked up capitalism and going down on the love of his life and take him straight to heaven. He was overall a nice guy, little fucked up, but a nice guy indeed.

But his heart had an untreatable hole. It was dug when he first met Taehyung, and has been growing ever since, the more Taehyung kept revisiting it, the more it grew, taking up all the space in his heart.

There was a Taehyung-shaped hole inside his heart and Jeongguk wants to live with that hole for the rest of his life until it kills him.

His movements are slow. He doesn’t move his left arm at all in case he jostles Taehyung off, he’s careful, digging into his pocket, he solely opens a small box, he clasps his finger around the small circular object and takes it out

Taehyung doesn’t notice. He’s still watching the sky.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, disregarding all notions of practicality and second thoughts and he reaches for Taehyung’s hand.

At first, Taehyung doesn’t react, still distracted by the fireworks, until Jeongguk’s fingers close around his and guides it gently forward.

Then Jeongguk slides the ring onto his ring finger.

Taehyung freezes.

He slowly looks down, almost scared at the prospect of what he would find. The next breath he releases is shaky and Jeongguk feels it resonating with his own hammering heart.

“What—”

Jeongguk’s thumb brushes over Taehyung’s knuckles.

“I didn’t really plan it like this,” he starts softly. “I was going to prepare a speech. Take you somewhere really nice that’s not a fucking parking lot. It would be a quite affair. Just the two of us. I ticked that one off at least.”

He grins at the elder keeps looking at him with wide, disbelieving eyes that are starting to get red-rimmed around the corners.

“I can’t write a song that’s about you, Taehyung. I can write what you make me feel, but I can’t write how much you make me feel.”

The first sob Taehyung lets out fractures Jeongguk’s heart into tiny crescents. He nods many times like he understands, he gets it, his tears slips down his cheeks, falls down to his white shirt, and Jeongguk belatedly realizes Taehyung is shaking.

“I try. I promise I do.”

He delicately holds the hand adorning the diamond. The ring crackles with the intensity of red, blue, golden, lights bouncing off its surface. And Jeongguk can’t stop staring at how beautiful it looks. How perfectly it fits. Taehyung clutches his hand tightly, his other hand gathering the material of his hoodie into his fist in a desperate grip.

“I’ve so many unfinished drafts that would probably never see the light, but they are all about you. Every single one of them. I didn’t abandon them because they weren’t good enough; they just weren’t enough. Three minutes is too short for me to tell you my entire heart. And I don’t think there’s a single language in the world that could describe you in a way that would be enough.”

“Oh my god,” Taehyung pulls his hand back to put them over his eyes. It doesn’t help in any way because Jeongguk can still every single tear that escapes his eyes.

“I’m sure that was not the answer you were looking for,” Jeongguk shifts in his place, he clenches and unclenches his fingers, every single atom in his body screams at him to shush Taehyung.

He briefly wonders if he should be on his knee right now.

“It’s not a good enough reason, I know. But I love you too much to write you a song, Taehyung. I’m sorry.”

The word is lost to the air as Taehyung stumbles forward. Jeongguk opens his arms instinctively the moment Taehyung bundles into him, wrapping himself around Jeongguk’s body tightly, pushing his face into his neck and sobbing openly.

“I love you,” Taehyung sobs heartbreakingly. He repeats it, says it over and over again like he doesn’t know how to speaking anything else other than, “I love you. I love you. I love you. Jeongguk, I love you.”

Jeongguk laughs wetly, surprised at how shaky he sounds, his throat stricken with a wound up feeling that chokes him up. He tucks his face down into Taehyung’s shoulder and just breaths him in, trying to get the overwhelming emotions clogging his senses under control.

He can’t be crying too when Taehyung is already sobbing enough to fill a river.

“I love you, too, Tae,” Jeongguk massages his shaky fingers into his scalp gently. He doesn’t know what to say except, “Please stop crying. You’re breaking my heart here.”

“I can’t believe you really want to marry me.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” he grunts, shifting so he can even out Taehyung’s slumped over weight. “I couldn’t dream of doing this with anyone else. Couldn’t dream of doing anyone else’s laundry for the rest of my life actually, and that says a lot, because you’re genuinely the messiest person on the planet. I don’t know how your employees deal with you.”

“I thought you wanted to break up.”

Jeongguk felt like someone yanked his lungs out of his chest and walked all over it.

He zaps away from Taehyung. “What?”

Taehyung rubs at his eyes, getting rid of the wetness but they keep spilling out of his eyes. He takes a step back, puts some space between them, away from him and curling on himself and if Jeongguk wasn’t already reeling from what he heard, he would have felt unreasonably hurt from seeing recoil from him like that, and the way Taehyung refuses to meet his eye puts him on edge.

“You were being distant. You–You stopped texting. Our calls were shortening. And you always sounded so distracted when we were on call. I knew you were busy, and I didn’t blame you for being exhausted. I understood, Jeongguk. I was worried that we were going through a rough patch, but we’ll get over it once we see each other again, and we did. Today was magical.”

“Why would you think I want break up with you then?”

The structure of the entire sentence sounded absurd, felt even worse saying it from his own mouth. He can’t believe what he is hearing.

Jeongguk watches Taehyung stiffen.

“I got paranoid,” he finally mumbles, wringing his hands together. A nervous tick of his. “Those tabloids got into my head. They–They released forty-four articles about us in the last month. And–And I read all of them.”

Fuck.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” Jeongguk pulls a nervous hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What should I have said?” Taehyung scoffs. “Oh, I feel a little insecure. Can you please tell me you still love me so I feel better?”

“Yes?” Jeongguk blurts out incredulously, causing Taehyung to scowl at him. “Exactly what you should have said, baby. If you’re feeling insecure, not good about something, and I did something to evoke that feeling, you need to tell me. It’s my job to reassure you. To make you feel better. What the fuck, Tae?”

“Can you not get mad at me right now? I’m still overwhelmed.”

Jeongguk sighs as he tucks Taehyung closer by the tie. “Do the tabloids bother you?”

Taehyung breath hitches. And Jeongguk would have probably missed it if they weren’t breathing the same air right now.

“Sometimes. Not always. It’s just harder to ignore the voices in my head when we are apart.”

“That’s – fuck, hyung. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know it was bothering you like this.” A stab of guilt prickles his skin apart. How had he been so blind? How didn’t he see Taehyung wasn’t okay? “I’m sorry I felt distant in the past month, it wasn’t intentional – I didn’t even realize. There’s no excuse. I was busy, exhausted, jet lags suck ass, and I missed you, but that’s no excuse. I should have made time for you, and I’m so fucking sorry I made you feel paranoid. It would never happen again, I promise.”

“It’s okay.” Taehyung smiles at him, pinching his cheek lightly. “I know you weren’t doing it intentionally.”

“I would never ignore you intentionally. I’m not crazy,” he grumbles, tucking himself closer to Taehyung, gently kissing his digits holding his cheek. “It’s been two unbearable months without you. I know we can’t control when we’re busy and when we’re not. And I know you’re busier than me, yet you’re here, for me, and I can’t help but be happier and a little selfish that you chose to be here rather than somewhere far more important.”

“Nowhere is far more important than here.”

Jeongguk allows himself a laugh, it sounds wet, choked up, and Jeongguk knows he’s close to start sobbing his eyes out in Taehyung’s chest like a baby anytime now.

“I’m flattered to know I’m your priority.”

“You’re my biggest priority,” Taehyung grumbles as he plays with the strings on his hoodie, he looks up. “Does it not bother you?”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

Taehyung scowls. “Really?”

“Really. I don’t care about what people have to say about me, or about our relationship. I’m used to people being in my business, knowing things about me that doesn’t concern them. It’s scary but I’m used to it. Our relationship on the other hand. It’s funny. They think we have broken up while I’m losing my shit here because you still haven’t said yes to my proposal.”

Taehyung’s lips twitches, threatening to curve, but he holds it down with a bite onto his bottom lip. “They also think you got bored of me.”

“Like I could ever get bored of you,” Jeongguk rolls his eyes as he steps forward, making Taehyung take one back, playing hard to get.

Jeongguk narrows his eyes as Taehyung looks at him from under his lashes teasingly.

“It doesn’t matter to me what they have to say about that, because fuck them. I only care about you. I only care if they have something to improper to say about you. That’s the only thing I won’t tolerate.”

A pretty blush coats Taehyung’s face, and his eyes fill again. And god, it’s so frightening to see, because it’s usually him who’s the crier between the two. Seeing Taehyung so fragile makes Jeongguk want to rip his hair out in panic.

“Why are you crying now?” he asks disbelievingly.

“You didn’t ask.”

“Huh.”

Taehyung lets out a sob, it sounds fed up as he jostles Jeongguk. “The question. You didn’t ask.”

Oh.

“ – well,” he grins stupidly. Taehyung smacks him on the chest. “Ow, sorry. Okay. Want another speech?”

Taehyung is shameless in the way he immediately nods his head.

“Alright. Just because you’re crying and I’m a great guy to marry,” He clears his throat and holds out his hand for Taehyung to take which he does eagerly.

(Jeongguk wonders for the second time if he should be on his knees right now.)

“You know I don’t believe in a forever. I’m not a fan of Valentine’s either because I think it’s performative and fucking stupid.” Taehyung scoffs, but allows him to continue. “Why should love only be celebrated a day? When mine should be celebrated every day? And I promise to do exactly that, celebrate you every single day for the rest of our lives if you’d let me.”

Taehyung cringes, scrunching his nose, and he knows he’s going to be teased absurdly for being so schmaltzy cheesy later. But the soft blush imperceptibly rising on Taehyung’s cheeks, rendering him look even more alluring, makes everything worth it.

“I don’t believe in a forever, but I do believe that if it’s meant to be, it will. And you, Taehyung,” Jeongguk raises the hand adoring the ring, and gently presses a kiss onto it. “you’re meant to me. Marry me.”

Taehyung lets out a peel of giddy laughter as he tackles him with a high squeal. Jeongguk is almost concerned because he’s certain he’s never heard Taehyung making such a high-pitched sound before.

Taehyung kisses him, though it’s more teeth than anything with how hard he is smiling.

All Jeongguk sees is red, bunched up cheeks, red rimmed eyes, and a bright smile All he hears is his own heartbeat as Taehyung chants one word, the only word, again and again over the his parted lips.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

They don’t speak much on the way out.

Taehyung is too out of it to drive them safely to the hotel in one piece. So Jeongguk takes the keys from Taehyung’s hands and opens the passenger door for the other to slip inside.

And in the few brief second it takes him to circle the car to reach for the driver’s seat, Jeongguk mutters a string of quick fucks! still in disbelief he actually managed to grow balls to do that.

How a romantic day that Jeongguk always thought was fake as fuck has now turned into one of the most romantic nights for them.

Taehyung is emotional now, but once he regains his bearings, he has no doubt he won't let Jeongguk live this down.

“Remember when you proposed to me on Valentine’s? The day you thought was absurd and performative.”

“Every day is Valentine’s with you, baby. I don’t see the difference.”

“That’s so fucking corny. Even for you, bun.”

If he woke up tomorrow, and this is all a dream, he’s going to lose his mind, not only would Taehyung not be here, he would also have to deal with the aftermath of skipping his own concert in favor of dozing off in a ditch.

Jeongguk drives them to their hotel, which is fortunately not that far away. It’s a little closer to the stadium, but Jeongguk doesn’t know how much of that difference it makes because can’t focus on the road at all, or the distance, the fifteen minutes ride feels too long. All he wants to is to hold his fiancé and kiss him silly.

Thump thump thump.

Fiancé.

Right.

He’s engaged. He just proposed.

And Taehyung said yes.

Jeongguk is going to marry him.

Taehyung is looking out of the window and usually, Jeongguk would have his hand grasped between his as he drove, it was instinctual reaction, to both him and Taehyung, to grab onto the other whenever the other is near. Taehyung would go for his thigh while Jeongguk would settle for his hand. Jeongguk’s thighs are sensitive and Taehyung would never lose the opportunity to rile him up if he could.

Today, however, Taehyung is leaned against the opposite window, looking outside, his legs are tucked up onto the seat, making himself comfortable onto the heated seat. His hand are clasped together on his chest, and his right hand keeps drifting back to the ring as if his fingers can’t quite believe it’s there, awareness settling in that it’s going to capture the small space on his finger for the rest of their lives.

Fuck.

Jeongguk doesn’t miss the slight pinkness that is permanently dusting Taehyung's cheeks, how his bottom lip is caught between his teeth and would wobble into a smile every now and then. Jeongguk would catch him turning his hand under the dim light shimmering from outside, watching the stone catch and reflect it’s shine, looking out the window right afterwards with his red cheeks bunched up.

Jeongguk looks away and takes a turn around the corner. His own cheeks betraying him and getting warm.

He drives carefully, slower than usual, letting the post-concert traffic thin out. The stadium is behind them now, fireworks long finished, the night settling back into normal. They round the corner towards the VIP exit –

And stop.

Oh fuck.

He completely forgot about this part.

The worst thing about being a celebrity is that media would not leave him alone. People would be on your ass for the smallest of shit that would be considered normal for the non-famous. Like going for a coffee alone and suddenly it’s “Jeon Jeongguk spotted looking lonely after rumored breakup.” Laugh with a friend and suddenly you’re cheating. You date? How awful of you. Oh, you don’t want to tell us about your private life? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s like living inside a microscope where everyone thinks they are entitled to narrate what you can or can’t do.

So Jeongguk should be used it, the showbiz.

Yet, he completely forgot about the part where the vultures would definitely be waiting for him to come out, especially after his small surprise song.

Of course they would not miss out on a chance to catch them together.

The journalists migrated from across the street to en masse.

The flashes hit first, bright and disorienting that he has to clutch the steering tightly, immediately followed by noise of questions being shouted.

It takes him a while for him to realize they could actually see them.

“Oh, shit,” Jeongguk feels panic slithering inside him as his gaze shifts towards the windows, and he lets out a curse. “Shit. Taehyung,” Jeongguk tries to calm the panic in his tone but he knows he’s failing spectacularly. “Your windows aren’t tinted.”

The reporters could see everything. The flashes are letting not even a drop of second waste as they capture everything they could. The security try to hold them back but the mob hordes them from each side, hurling questions after questions, blinding them with the white light.

“Jeongguk-ssi! Jeongguk-ssi! Are the breakup rumors false? Jeongguk-ssi!”

“Kim Taehyung-ssi! Did you two get back together tonight?”

“Jeongguk-ssi! Who was that song for? Do we have a release date yet?”

“Kim Taehyung-ssi! Can you look in this camera?”

“Have you been separated these past few months?”

“Wait! Is that a—?”

A quiet, choked laugh breaks into thoughts and has Jeongguk whipping his head to the sound. Taehyung has his hands shielding his face, turned away from the cameras and at Jeongguk.

There is no anguish flickering on his face, just pure joy and shaking shoulders.

Taehyung is laughing.

Jeongguk is thrown aback.

Taehyung looks at him, eyes bright and lips quivering from holding back.

“We are so fucked,” Taehyung muffles a sound behind his hand. He tries to control it, but a wheeze leaves him every time he speaks. “Shit, Jeongguk. We are so fucked.”

Jeongguk stares at him for a second, and then a soft ludicrous snort escapes him too. A snort which turns into a full cackle. Jeongguk tries to be graceful about it because he’s still a celebrity but the situation is so funny, elucidating how fucked they actually are, makes him spill some tears from how crazy he feels.

Laughing with his fiancé meanwhile the paparazzi outside completely lose their mind trying to milk a new gossip material.

Taehyung turns to him, and Jeongguk stops paying attention to the outside world. He sees him, and the rest of the world dissolves in his eyes.

A coy yet still somehow teasing look tugs in his fiancé’s eyes. “Can I do something stupid?”

Jeongguk tilts his head back against the leather. “What?”

He doesn’t get an answer.

Jeongguk lazily watches the guards trying to pry the photographers and the mob out of the way. The panic has subsided into acceptance. And if Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck, then so does Jeongguk.

If the situation was different, and Taehyung wasn’t okay about this, then he would definitely try to run over them, not really, but he would have definitely tried. But then Jeongguk’s face is physically moved away from the sight to the side.

He blinks confusedly at Taehyung’s face so close to his, a palm holding his jaw, but before he can ask what’s wrong, Taehyung leans in.

And then slightly cold, but extremely soft lips are touching against his in the most delicately tender kiss that he’s ever received.

It sends tingles all the way to the tips of his toes.

The mob outside goes crazy. And Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut as he slowly kisses back.

White light bursts behind his eyelids from the intensity of the flashes. They pull apart before it could go anywhere.

Jeongguk watches in daze as Taehyung’s kissed stained lips curve into a big boxy smile. He raises a hand that hid their mouths from being captured between them and towards the window, then Taehyung wiggles his fingers ridiculously.

Jeongguk mouth falls opens at the gesture, at the sheer happiness on Taehyung’s face, at his wide smile and dancing shoulders as he flaunts his left hand into every camera. Jeongguk bursts into laughter, and reaches across to pull the idiot by the collar.

Vision is, Jeongguk thinks, a paradoxical wound. The assault from the flashes burns his retinas, but the image of Taehyung’s laugh is brighter.

But then again, it doesn’t matter if his eyes water, if the assault impairs all his senses, the vision allows him to see, to gaze at the love of his life without any obscure hitch, to behold his happiness and lock it inside his heart.

What a blessing it was.

ENGAGED!

Tokyo is still catching its breath! It looks like Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor is soon to be a Mr. Kim!

The news of the engagement came shortly after the rockstar surprised everyone at his final stadium show by dedicating an unreleased song to his longtime sweetheart, Taehyung Kim! But it doesn’t end there, ladies and gentlemen! Paparazzi waiting outside the venue captured the couple exiting together, and it wasn’t long before attention shifted to a certain small piece of jewelry on Kim’s left hand.

Well, small in an understatement, because one of the reporters nearly fainted when she saw it’s shine for the first time. A custom-made 7.5-carat emerald-cut double halo diamond ring is from one of Italy’s most esteemed maisons in Florence–Casa di Lucente–is practically the size of the moon, and absurdly breathtaking!

Now that’s devotion done right, Mr. Jeon.

If the marriage moves forward, they will officially become South Korea’s wealthiest celebrity couple! With Jeon Jeongguk’s touring revenue, global endorsements, and music catalog valued at an estimated $600 million, and Kim Taehyung’s corporate holdings placing him comfortably above $2.5 billion, the couple’s combined net worth is projected at nearly $3.1 billion (approximately  ₩4 trillion).

From a surprise song to a diamond-lit exit in Tokyo, this is one Valentine’s week the world would never forget.

Congratulations to Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Taehyung on their engagement.

We here at Rolling Stone wish nothing but a lifetime of happiness ahead for the couple.