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It goes without saying that parents can be a little too much. Now, this doesn’t mean they can’t worry about their children or plunge into a twelve-foot deep pool of curiosity when something pertains to their interests and personal lives.
Curiosity isn’t a bad attribute per se, or at least when intrusions aren’t made or privacy isn’t violated. ‘Curiosity’ represents the inquisitive thinkers of the universe—those who wish to learn, explore and discover. Although it might be apparent for some more than others, everyone becomes analytical in life: over complexity, life itself, what their purpose is or why they might be here.
These are a few examples of what people may question over an extended period of time whereas Jeongguk’s mother, Sooyeon, has shown a particular investment in her son’s personal relationships. It’s not in a daunting type of manner in which many people would dread, it’s an interrogative process frequently easing its way into phone conversations while he’s off at university.
For twenty-two years, all Jeongguk’s come to know is home - a safe haven of love, happiness, comfort. A few weekends were spent at a friend’s house or at a cousin’s, though semesters apart are dubbed the longest for them.
So in hindsight, he gets it. Understands why she calls during early mornings as he shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth while tugging on a pair of shoes. Understands why as he walks to class, she’ll text a, ‘Good luck, angel! You’ll do great!’ with an array of emojis.
Understands why she’ll offer help or to give him advice, regardless of what distance keeps them separated. Understands why she’d like to stay up-to-date with current events—never lose sight of her son nor merge into background fuzz.
From an early age, their relationship sustained a solidified state. If Jeongguk needed somebody to talk to, he knew he could retort to her specifically. If it was a matter beyond comprehension, she’d focus on a resolution first and save a reprimand for later. (He’ll forever love that about his mom, treasure it.)
With all taken into consideration, should the topic of, ‘Has our son met a special someone yet?’ fly into those aforementioned phone calls, he’ll steer her attention elsewhere or forge an excuse to hang up.
None of it gets done out of frustration or annoyance, as it’s impossible for him to experience such emotions with either parent. Rather, Jeongguk’s aware of how much it’d mean to her if he found a person who could make him happy, and while he may have found a provider of said-happiness, his mom means it in a romantic aspect.
Not the kind of ‘happiness’ stemmed from being inside of his best friend’s asshole.
Not only would it be wildly inappropriate to tell her he’s having sex, it’s generally awkward to say he’s fucked Kim Taehyung (someone who she knows) for a whole year.
“Have you eaten?” Jeongguk registers her voice over the phone line, interrupting the daze he’d found himself in. Speaking of, the ‘daze’ happens to be the very same Kim Taehyung who wears a baseball jersey and a pair of red shorts riding up the ass, revealing two perfectly round globes as he lays over the mattress. Faint bruises are aligned on the insides of those honey, smooth thighs, so Jeongguk reaches over, fingers dancing upon the skin while he reminisces about earlier escapades. “—Huh, sweetheart?”
“Oh,” falls from Jeongguk’s mouth as he shuffles, textbook on his lap closing from the movement. “Sorry, I got distracted. I, uh—I did eat.”
“Mm.”
“Seokjin-hyung made us Bibimbap for dinner. It was delicious,” he smoothly and conversationally says; nothing except for the truth spoken. “I told him he should consider pursuing a culinary degree and become a chef for a Michelin Star restaurant in Seoul.”
“Uh-huh, would be nice,” Sooyeon straightaway agrees. She’s familiar with who Kim Seokjin is—had met him when he and Jeongguk became friends in high-school. Said he was a nice and funny person. “I’m relieved you receive warm meals when you’re away. Please tell him I say ‘thank you.’”
“Me too, and I’ll let him know,” Jeongguk says, grateful for the same notion. No matter where he travels or what area he’s in, a sense of nostalgia will always accompany him around. He can be miles apart from home, yet he’ll never grow foreign to delicious home-cooked meals. “How about you? Did you eat?”
“I did,” she replies, “Your father made kimchi jjigae for us today.”
Despite an attempt to look away from the person causing him trouble, all attention re-diverts to a set of warm thighs and a mouthwatering curve of the spine. Today, Taehyung came over so they could do assignments and study and while it’s not ever a problem to multitask, he hasn’t focused since his initial arrival.
“Sounds…” develops on the tip of Jeongguk’s tongue as temptation causes him to wind a palm, letting it clash against the flimsy fabric doing a horrible job at covering his ass. On impact, Taehyung jumps, chuckles and spreads his legs wider because he’s a fucking tease, of course. Nothing new. “- good, mom.”
“What was that noise?”
She’s louder than expected, considering Taehyung’s head drops in between the spiral notebook, shoulders trembling while attempts to stifle laughter are made. Albeit unseen, Jeongguk can’t help smiling at such a precious sight and lies straight through.
It may be a super shitty excuse, yet it works.
“I went to stand on the floor and my foot made a noise. Sorry, hope it wasn’t too loud in your ear.”
Sooyeon reassures, “No, it’s okay.”
“So, where’s dad?”
“Your father’s at…” two fingers touch against the back of Taehyung’s heels this time, trailing until they meet at the pockets of his kneecaps before moving back to his feet, the exact motion repeated. Goosebumps instantly surface, making him wear a huge grin as he then decides to return to Taehyung’s inner thighs—which happens to be one of his more sensitive spots.
Stopping further movement are those exact thighs squashing Jeongguk’s hand, and Taehyung throws a look over the shoulder.
“Stop,” he mouths with no malice or bite, “I’ll get hard, you jerk.”
Jeongguk’s eyebrows crease forward, rising upwards in amusement. “You’re gonna get hard? From a simple touch? How desperate of you.”
A middle finger is thrown in the air, so he hurries to converse to avoid laughing out-loud. “So, mom—”
“Wait,” she intervenes at a sudden pulse, “I need to talk to you about something.”
Disregarding Taehyung who pouts after shaking his ass and not receiving a smack, Jeongguk lifts a hand as if to excuse himself. Maybe later. “What’s up?”
“Um, well,” it seems she brings the phone closer to her mouth to speak clearer. “I realized how overwhelming I was in these last couple of weeks and I wanted to apologize to you.”
A pang of devastation crashes in the pit of his chest because no matter what, Jeongguk hadn’t found her ‘overwhelming.’ If it’s about the interrogations on who he might be with, it truly isn’t a bad thing to be curious.
She’s welcome to ask stuff. Probe around a bit.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he assures - to which Taehyung rolls over and sends a sympathetic smile. “Like at all. It’s totally okay.”
“No, no,” Sooyeon sighs, “I do. There’s nothing better than knowing my son is living happily, and I feel like I’ve influenced the idea that you’ve got to depend on another for these emotions. It’s unhealthy.”
With utmost sincerity, aside from her apologies, Jeongguk appreciates the shift in perception. He’s well aware she had no foul intentions to push him towards a relationship he might’ve not prepared for (or necessarily wanted to be in).
All she wanted to know is if he’d met someone.
No harm or foul there.
“Really mom, apologies aren’t necessary.” Given their closeness, Jeongguk confided in telling her everything, and maybe it’s what transpired her need to know what goes on while he’s off at campus. Being away means he doesn’t come home and talk to her in the kitchen about how things might’ve gone—if something interesting occurred in the day or if the afternoon was hectic.
She’s probably devastated that they can’t share daily conversations like those anymore.
It’d be different if Jeongguk’s older brother could keep her company while he’s gone, though it wouldn’t work because he’s got a job and house to tend to.
“Jeongguk-ah, sweetie…” silence hovers with consequential shuffling over the receiver. “Hold on, your father’s returned. Let me quickly help him with the groceries. Do you mind staying on the line?”
“No, yeah,” he says, chewing the soft skin of his inner cheek, “Go, it’s okay. I’ll wait for you.”
It sounds like she sets the phone on a counter.
“Everything okay?” asks Taehyung, big toe poking Jeongguk in the navel. “I probably sound nosy as fuck, but the phone’s loud, so I overheard what she said. How could she think she’s overwhelming?”
It’s a great question to which no person would be able to answer. (Being her son doesn’t help in knowing.) It’s an unusual scenario, and the gist of her insecurities has broken his heart. She’s a great person, a great mother.
An answer as to why will remain unknown.
With a press of a button to mute the call, Jeongguk offers a hesitant shrug. “No idea. I mean, I used to sit and give her a rundown on what was happening, so I guess she wanted to ensure that I knew she was still there for me? Or I don’t know. Lately, she’s asked if I’ve got eyes on someone, and like—” there’s no other way to put it, so he uses plain terms, “—I’m fucking you.”
Taehyung rumbles with laughter, dropping back on the mattress at such absurdity. “Could you be any more lewd?!”
“What?” a smile erupts on Jeongguk’s face, an inevitable reoccurrence when he’s in the elder’s presence. “Hyung, it’s true. I’m literally fucking the shit out of you, so it’d be beyond wrong of me to let her in on that piece of information.”
“Right. Right, I get it.”
Jeongguk knows him like the back of his hand. For instance, when Taehyung’s happy and doesn’t feel like showing it off much, he’ll bite on his bottom lip to prevent an expression from showing. If he’s upset, it’ll show in the crease of his brows and jut of his jaw, and if he’s needy, he’ll flash puppy eyes and a surly pout.
When an idea strikes him, it’s probably the most obvious of all.
“What? What’re you thinking?”
“I’m not thinking of anything,” Taehyung threads consciously, “Unless you won’t judge me.”
“Alright, hit me.”
“What if you told her about us?”
The phone nearly drops to the floor. “As in ‘my best friend and I are breaking in the headboard’? What the hell is my mom going to think of that?”
No offense, the idea is absolute shit.
“No, dummy!” a hand smacks Jeongguk on the leg. “What if you told her we’re dating? I mean, how long has it been since your last relationship? Since she last got to meet a partner of yours and feel good her son was with somebody who treated him right?”
As a matter of fact, it was two years ago with Kwon Jihyun. Their story had a rocky ending involving tears, pain and breakup songs playing at three in the morning.
(Kwon Jihyun epitomized ‘heartbreaker.’)
As if realization and the span of time since then didn’t stagger him, Taehyung adds on: “Your standpoint of her being sad about not knowing stuff could be true, but you should also consider her maybe wanting to see her son be cherished.” Huh. “She’s known me for years and always said she liked me and how much of a good influence I am, so… Fake dating wouldn’t seem too far-fetched. I’m down to play the part if you are.”
Jeongguk shouldn’t be surprised; Taehyung’s ridiculously clever and creates elaborate plans.
“...Honey?”
A response falls short as he presses the button to unmute himself. “Yes? Hi mom.”
“Ah, good! You’re still here. It went quiet, so I thought you might’ve hung up. Anyway, your dad’s next to me and he’d like to say hello!”
True to word, Jeongguk’s father greets him.
“Good afternoon, Jeongguk-ah! How are you?”
“Hi dad,” he introduces with a grin, still pondering on the ‘fake dating’ proposal as Taehyung smiles at how happy his father sounded. “I’m good, yeah. Exams are approaching, so I’m taking necessary measures to stay on track and help keep me focused.”
“Studying with friends?”
“Studying with friends, as well as studying by myself. Sometimes I feel especially productive when I sit in a room, free of distraction and noise.”
“How wonderful,” Jaehyuk comments, “Your mother and I are proud of you, please remember this when we say it. You and your brother work so hard and we’d like to remind you guys it’s okay to take breaks. Don’t overwork yourself.”
It’s a simple reminder often forgotten: determination comes with relaxation.
University shouldn’t garner a different set of rules.
“Thank you,” warmth envelopes his tone, “I love you both.”
“We love you too! I’m going to clean up the living room, so take care.”
At the far end of the bed, Taehyung tucks a couple of fingers around Jeongguk’s calf to bring him closer, then plops on his shin to lay at ease. When Jeongguk looks at him, instinctively he blows a kiss to which Taehyung mimics chest pains.
Cute.
“...I should let you finish your work, so call me when you can,” Sooyeon says when she returns to the line. “Good luck on your exams, sweetheart.”
“Oh, okay. Don’t miss me too much!”
The call comes to an abrupt end and for a brief moment, all he can do is stare at the screen, noticing how happy his mom looks in the contact photo. He feels bad. There’s really no reason to (as he hadn’t done anything wrong), yet as he continues to view the picture - the crinkles of her smile and an ambiance of love wrapped around her - guilt consumes him.
If Taehyung’s right—if his presumptions are correct—then fake dating should be considered.
Like it was established, the idea of them dating isn’t too ‘far-fetched’ because they’re best friends who’ve been attached at the hips since forever. On whatever occasion Taehyung swung by the house to hang with Jeongguk, his mom and dad welcomed him and they went as far as inviting him over for dinner.
They’ve shown support for their friendship, even encouraged them to request each other as roommates, which kind of set off their entire fling.
Made Jeongguk realize how much he likes to spend time with Taehyung.
So - maybe if news came aboard about them sorting things, figuring out they like one another and pursuing ahead, she’d bubble with joy.
Their relationship aside, Taehyung openly treats Jeongguk with respect, care and appreciation, so that’d definitely serve as a bonus of some sort.
“- spiraling, Jeon?”
“No,” he quips when registering that he’s spoken to, clearing his throat. “Do you wanna keep working or do you wanna take a snack break?”
It’s transparent what Taehyung desires when he drapes his legs over the edge of the mattress. “C’mon,” he says with excitement, “I know you’ve got a good stash in the cabinet!”
(If Jeongguk’s heart flutters at the sight, it’s his personal business. No one else’s.)
►
When exams are over, a celebration will take place off-campus at a random student’s apartment. An important tradition for SKU attendants to partake in, Jeongguk and friends have managed their own fair share of appearances.
The invitation consists of a text message or email sent across campus with a subject of ‘You’re invited!’ in its title, along with the name of the host. Sure, it’s not mandatory to attend, albeit those who put in tremendous effort throughout the year are encouraged to come and let loose.
When Jeongguk got destroyed with exhaustion by the end of his first ever exam season, the one to introduce him to his first party was Taehyung. Since the start, he was open to interactions and getting to familiarize himself with the people he’d spent each semester with.
In his second week in, Taehyung met their (now) good friend, Jung Hoseok, who gave information regarding what happens when classes finish. Kind as ever, Hoseok disclosed the host’s name, what to expect at a tight-packed festivity, and reminded that any undergraduates were welcomed— including them.
Was it the greatest party thrown? No, but the experience itself did leave a stark impression on Jeongguk. Hence why he’s currently in a carload, on his way to a senior’s apartment for some quarterly fun.
In the backseat, on either side of him sits Namjoon and Taehyung. Across are Hoseok and Jimin with Seokjin being their driver and Yoongi his designated passenger.
An approximate ten minutes remain of the drive, though it feels longer due to how quiet it is. Paired with a disgusting warmth due to Seokjin’s air conditioner losing function and a lack of wiggle room, it’s an obvious hassle to seek comfort in the backseat.
Compressing Jeongguk’s skin is a faux leather jacket and while he thought it was a wise fashion choice, it proves to be an uncircumstantial one.
“Hey, you okay?” Taehyung notices his mild discomfort through the reflection on the window. “What’s up?”
Not really. Sweat clings onto his lower back with perspiration glistening between the crevice of his pecs. It’s unbearably hot.
“Peachy,” he says, forcing a happy expression, “Hope this doesn’t make you think I’m any less sexy, but a dribble of sweat slipped past my asscrack.”
Laughter bursts in the car, an indicator of Taehyung’s amusement towards pain and suffering. How evil. “Not funny, hyung,” Jeongguk has to reprimand. “Not funny at all.”
“I’m sorry,” spares Taehyung, remaining fruitless and invaluable because apologies are supposed to convey remorse. “Sorry, you’re right. It isn’t.”
There’s a distinct contrast between what he says and what he does because Taehyung turns towards the window after a few tentative seconds, snorting as he tries to contain himself.
“Hyung!”
“What’s wrong?” says Seokjin from the rearview mirror, “Are we okay back there?”
“Yeah, yes,” Jeongguk responds, miffed. Shimmies against the seat, feeling his jacket glue to him like a second layer of skin. “I’m a bit sweaty...”
Namjoon looks over and chuckles. “Jeongguk is soaked. Looks like he took a shower.”
What an exaggeration.
(A run through sprinklers would match his guise better.)
“I’ve gotta take this bad boy to a mechanic to get to the bottom of what the hell’s wrong with my A.C,” Seokjin fidgets with the mirror, “If you guys need to, crack open both windows.”
“Feels like I’m trapped in Satan’s armpit,” a mumble expels as the backseat windows roll open. Due to a quiet atmosphere, they hear Jeongguk’s frustration and rumble within milliseconds.
Jimin falls onto Hoseok’s side, shameless in the way he expresses how comical the situation is. Then, in a domino effect, Namjoon laughs, Seokjin laughs, Yoongi laughs, and those were the guys - his hyungs - in which Jeongguk thought wouldn’t ever, in a billion years, betray him.
He won’t lie and say it isn’t the slightest bit funny (or at least, how random it came out), though because he’s trying to prove some type of point, he doesn’t budge or crack a smile.
Yoongi withdraws the mirror on his side and angles it to where he can see them all. Directs a gaze on Jeongguk who musters a furious frown.
“Don’t worry,” he insists, “We’re almost at Seojoon’s. When we get there, you can remove your jacket and catch some air.”
“Uh?” a confused noise ensues, “Hyung, my jacket ties my entire outfit.”
A series of groans.
“No, I’m serious!”
“JK, I promise you’ll look fine without it,” Hoseok’s conviction pulls through as he rolls his heel to stretch in the compact space. “You’ve got your big, chunky boots on, those sexy pants with the straps and a nice fitted white t-shirt. With these alone, you’ll still capture all eyes in the room.”
It’s a positive compliment, something meant to boost his confidence, yet Taehyung shows disinterest in its implications.
“All eyes” falling on him must stir a ravenous possession because a pretty and familiar hand crawls on Jeongguk’s lap.
Squeezes the muscles of his thigh.
“He doesn’t require attention from anyone else,” and shit, when those words escape in a serious, raspy tone, Jeongguk feels like he’s about to catapult to the moon. How the fuck did he get so lucky? “Not when he’s got me.”
Jimin squints in judgement. “Aren’t you guys fucking without any strings attached? You can’t be bothered should someone approach him at the party and initiate something, Taehyung-ah.”
Not like Jeongguk minded a taste of how a possessive Taehyung acts, but Jimin does bring up a substantial point. Their relationship hasn’t gone farther than casual fucking when they both need it.
From the very start of when they kissed and their hands experimentally roamed, they established regulations on their fling.
No falling in love.
No jealousy.
No telling who they can or can’t fuck.
Those were three of the important rules, and their friends knew of them since they’d once gotten cozy in Namjoon’s bathroom.
(The sheer embarrassment of getting caught.)
From his peripherals, Jeongguk deciphers Taehyung stiffen until relaxing in the seat. “I mean, I guess I’m being a little greedy. I can’t imagine having to share all of this with someone who ‘thinks’ they’ve got any sense of what he likes.”
Thinly veiled, the matter converts itself into a crystal-clear sign of unfiltered jealousy.
It should’ve been obvious with the hand gripping on his leg.
If they were to disregard the rules and regulations as to what their relationship entails, Jeongguk would admit it’s pretty hot.
“Ah, it’s no issue,” he reassures, drumming on the rear of Taehyung’s palm when he’s tempted to let it stay there; maybe let his fingers slip between those draped over his knee. “What can I say? I’m a monster in the sack and Tae simply can’t stand the thought of releasing me to another.”
Hand insisting on its rightful spot, Taehyung starts to snicker, and when Jeongguk stares at how both of their hands look together, a warm, viscous feeling circulates within him.
(For some reason, that specific sensation keeps recurring.)
“Just because I’m allowing you to rearrange my guts doesn’t give you a right to drop the honorifics, honey,” a reminder arises.
“Right! I meant, Taehyung-hyung.”
“Mm. Good.”
The questionable stares they receive go unmentioned and eventually, the drive reaches an end. Once Seokjin parks by Seojoon’s driveway, everyone exits the vehicle and it’s instant relief for Jeongguk as he stretches his arms to the sky, the jacket unsticking from his body.
“You seem happy,” Jimin comments, shoving his phone in his pocket as Jeongguk groans. “Glad we arrived, huh?”
“God, yeah. No offense, those fifteen minutes were ass. My legs buckled when I got out.”
Taehyung approaches the two from behind with a snort. “You’re so dramatic.. Anyway, Seokjin and Yoongi hyung made their way in, so c’mon; I’m starving and heard Seojoon ordered pizza.”
Pizza, in Jeongguk’s opinion, sounds like the best thing to settle in one’s stomach at the moment, so he hurries on command.
The five of them walk towards the four-panel, wooden door that pulsates from the loud music played. In general, Seojoon appears to live in a peaceful neighborhood, but if neighbors were frustrated by the uproar, they would’ve long shut down the party.
Without further thought, they head indoors and a waft of alcohol immediately plugs Jeongguk’s nose, followed by the organic smell of weed.
As per usual, the house accommodates people in every corner. From the couches, recliners, by the living room windows, the staircase led to the second floor to a visible portion of Seojoon’s kitchen, there’s no leftover spot for any of them to take.
“Where did Yoongi and Seokjin go?!” Namjoon shouts over the thrum of music, easing inwards so they can perceive him better. “I can’t find them!”
Neither can Jeongguk, as he peers in a multitude of directions to only spot people like Yugyeom and Hojun who attend the same classes as him. Minus those two, he can’t decipher a familiar face or specific sets of clothing.
Shit. There’s no signs of Seokjin and Yoongi anywhere in the area.
“Maybe they went to the kitchen!” Jimin suggests, feeling whatever song is playing and swishing from side to side. “I know Yoongi complained earlier about being hungry. And if not in the kitchen, maybe the bathroom? I don’t know! I did see them go inside!”
As Jeongguk goes to reply, a firm hand snakes from beneath his forearm, then looping around on his own for a sense of security. “Hope you don’t mind this,” Taehyung says distinctly close to his ear, warm breath fanning the shell. Somehow, through the bass pummeling the speakers, he’s perceptible. Audible. “I don’t need to lose you in a swarm of horny, sweaty adults.”
Namjoon, Jimin and Hoseok promise to text their locations should they move locations, next bidding ‘goodbye!’ before they break off to wherever, and Jeongguk remains on the top step in amusement.
They discussed the topic in the car—about how neither of them can wallow in jealousy when the other seeks a person they’re interested in—yet Taehyung exhibits no consideration for their chit-chat.
“You really need me all to yourself, hm?” he grins. “Wow, you’re the greediest little thing. Do we have to re-establish our agreement?”
“No sweetheart,” Taehyung shrugs in response, walking along with Jeongguk as he weaves through a group of people to reach the kitchen. “I’m holding onto you so I’m not left alone and grinded on by some asshole jock. You think too highly of yourself.”
“—Or you’re lying and pictured me making out with a pretty girl,” he rebukes, teasing, “Me on the couch with my hands on her gorgeous ass. The picture of us must have your blood boiling, doesn’t it?”
This back-and-forth taunting between them is hilarious.
“Please,” scoffs Taehyung with a roll of his eyes, and it reminds Jeongguk of how they were a couple of nights ago when he sank onto his cock. “Out of everyone in this house, I’m damn sure I’ve got the fattest, gorgeous ass that looks best when it’s fucked into.”
“Sure you’re not being cocky, Kim?”
“Hyung,” Taehyung corrects with a click of the tongue, “You address me as ‘hyung.’ And watch your mouth. We’re both aware my ass has the ability to render you in tears.”
It was once.
Once.
(There’s nothing wrong with crying over ass.)
With a muffled chuckle, Jeongguk drops the topic and guides them to the tiled counter where a cluster of pizza boxes rest. The top three have none, so he pushes them elsewhere.
“Cheese, pepperoni or pineapple?”
“Ew,” a distasteful remark proceeds, “Pineapple? Who the hell orders pineapple?”
At that, Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow. “Who the hell doesn’t order pineapple?”
“A real, valid and intellectual pizza connoisseur,” Taehyung quips as he releases himself from Jeongguk’s clutch and leans over the same counter. From the angle he’s in, a slither of chest reveals itself, including a hickey sucked near the collarbone. “Pass me cheese.”
“Say ‘please,’ will you?”
“Is your cock out?”
Jeongguk almost knocks a box off the surface. “N-No?”
“Then I’ve got no reason to beg you. Pass your hyung a cheese slice or I’ll kick your ass.”
A regular cheese slice is passed over and taken graciously. From there on, they eat amongst themselves, enjoying cold food and the peaceful bubble obtained around them.
Somehow, at a party, it feels like they’re the sole two in the kitchen - in the house, really. Seojoon’s speakers don’t blast as loud as they did when they first stepped in, and there’s less congestion than when they’d arrived for food.
And okay, Jeongguk likes it.
He doesn’t know when it hits him that he likes whatever’s going on, yet he appreciates how they don’t talk and consume their slices to the crust. Likes how in lieu of speaking, he and Taehyung share eye-contact, and when Taehyung’s index finger hurries to wipe away a stain of tomato sauce on his chin.
How Taehyung hums afterwards, cheeks stuffed with food and eyes glimmered with happiness.
There’s something oddly pleasant in the air.
In the blur they’re captured in.
“Why don’t you eat the crust?”
“Too dry. You?”
“Agreed. ‘S why you’ll catch me doing this—” Taehyung holds onto the crust, slides it across tomato sauce residue. Bites on the spot covered. “Ta-da!”
Jeongguk shakes his head, fond. “God, you’re cute.”
“I’m cute?” states Taehyung through a chew, lips pouty, “Mm, can you give me a kiss?”
Contrary to popular belief, kisses are allowed in friends-with-benefits relationships. Friends can hug, hold hands, fuck, and obviously kiss without an emotional commitment.
Plus, the feeling’s nice.
Casually, Jeongguk leans in to offer a brief peck and when they retract, they’re smiling wide.
“Okay, cool.”
“Cool.”
When they finish up (and have something to wash the pizza down), they return to the living room where nearly the exact people accost Seojoon’s furniture. And while they planned to search for room sufficient in holding both of them, Kim Yugyeom shouts Jeongguk’s name and plants a palm over his shoulder.
Taehyung’s grip loosens.
“Hey, Yug,” Jeongguk greets - because it’s the polite thing to do - when he spins to face him. “How are you doing?!”
“Good!” Yugyeom chirps a little enthusiastically, beaming bright. “Oh, you’ve brought a date?”
It strikes him that Yugyeom gestures “date” to Taehyung who stands by him, an indifferent expression worn.
“He’s not—”
“You’re mistaken; I’m not his date,” Taehyung swiftly denies, “I’m Taehyung, Jeongguk’s best friend...”
Tension remains high in the air.
“Ah, okay! Well, I’m Yugyeom. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you as well,” his best friend declares, simple. There’s an extreme contrast as to when they were in the kitchen to now, and it’s difficult to pinpoint why. “I’m gonna go, okay? I’ll let you guys catch up.”
Before any interjections can be posed, Taehyung slips away into the crowd of students preoccupying the lounge area, leaving Jeongguk and Yugyeom alone, and well—
It’s awkward.
Although they’re acquainted and get along fine, they haven’t talked about stuff besides course assignments and whether they jotted notes to share with another.
Put simply: what’s there to discuss?
Yugyeom must feel similar as he sips on the contents floating in his red solo cup.
“So...”
“Soo...”
The music sounds louder.
“Can I ask you a question?” Yugyeom shouts, swishing the liquid nervously, flushed pink. “Please?”
Shoving both hands into his jacket pockets, Jeongguk nods with slight hesitation. In the back of his head, he wonders where Taehyung went. (Their hyungs, too.) “Sure.”
“Are you single? Do you maybe wanna get out of here tonight?”
In an unexpected sequence of events, their interaction begins to make sense to him. Registers to Jeongguk that Yugyeom didn’t stop him for anything other than to flirt and see where it’d lead them.
Don’t get him wrong, he’s flattered by the gesture and who’s attempting an advance, it’s just that Jeongguk isn’t interested. There’s no spark, no chemistry.
They’d stay best as acquaintances.
“Oh, Yug…”
Worst part? Yugyeom’s gradual buildup of hope.
“Yes?”
“You’re a nice guy and it’s fun talking with you in class.” It’s a simple rejection - no cruelty involved - yet it tears Jeongguk to pieces. Maybe if he had some fucking alcohol, it’d go a lot smoother. “I don’t—I’m not interested in pursuing anything.”
Dejectedly, Yugyeom’s head hangs low and it’s a saddening sight to confront. “Oh.”
“...Yeah.”
“With me or just like, or just with anyone?”
The question throws him for a loop. “Ah? What do you mean?”
“I mean—” Yugyeom’s posture straightens and it’s as if a switch goes off because he doesn’t appear to be so upset. “—Are you saying you don’t want to be with me or with anyone who isn’t your best friend?”
“What?” Jeongguk’s eyes comically widen. “Where’s this coming from?”
“Taehyung’s hand was tucked under your arm,” explains Yugyeom in a matter-of-fact inflection. “He moved it when he saw me, like you weren’t supposed to be caught.”
Presumptions are sometimes funny, and Yugyeom’s is fucking comical. What he saw and what he assumes have no type of correlation.
Humored by it, Jeongguk grants a robust laugh. “It’s amusing to me what your perception of us is like. We’re friends. Best friends, okay? I’m not saying ‘no,’ because of Taehyung-hyung.”
Yugyeom peers somewhere in the living room, mouth quirked at the corner. “Really? Is it as amusing as what your best friend’s up to right now?”
Prior to Jeongguk ushering for clarification, Yugyeom ventures into a different direction, resulting in deep, heedy curiosity settling in. It bubbles in his brain, causes Jeongguk to sigh, scrunch his eyes and then take a peek in the living room to search for said-best friend.
Under the stark, orange-hue ceiling light, Taehyung still manages to look gorgeous, prim, radiating with that unmatched beauty of his. He’s wearing a black button-shirt, a pair of denim jeans which cinch at the waist with these (cute) loafers Jeongguk often teases him for buying.
There’s nothing unusual happening; he’s grinning, lips stretched into a rectangular shape as he talks to a person—
Was this what Yugyeom meant?
Due to the ridiculous situation in which Yugyeom thought would affect him, Jeongguk feels strongly tempted to break out into another fit of laughter.
Just because they’re best friends doesn’t exempt Taehyung from fostering conversations and friendships of his own. He’s his own person, his own individual, so why should the situation upset him?
Unfazed and seeing no bizarreness in the scene, Jeongguk decides to fetch a drink until—
Oh.
The guy must tell a ridiculously hilarious joke on account of Taehyung’s giggles that resonate louder than the festivities taking place. Paired by the slow and sensual ogle the guy then delivers to him from head to toe, Jeongguk’s resolve diminishes into pieces.
Before registering what to do and how to deal with the twisted sensation brewing internally, his feet move on their accord. Whisked across to where they’re at, he recognizes a small portion of what’s said.
“You’re a funny guy, Woojin.”
“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi. Say, what are the chances I’ll bring you to the dorms with me tonight?”
Frankly, an answer never ensues because the very second Woojin opens his mouth to talk, Jeongguk steals the vacant spot on the couch behind Taehyung, looping his forearms around his waist and pulling him into his lap.
A noise of surprise exits from him, though Taehyung relaxes when realizing who it is.
“Now, look who decided to show up,” he teases, tilting his neck so Jeongguk can nuzzle the soft, warm skin and mouth against it. “I was beginning to think you actually abandoned me for a pretty girl. Lucky for me, Woojin kept me entertained.”
Woojin - the unfamiliar student who neither of them met on campus - chooses to ignore Jeongguk’s existence, audacious with how he attempts to initiate a hookup.
It might come across as pure hypocrisy for Jeongguk to seethe with jealousy, but he won’t give a single fuck. Not tonight, tomorrow, nor any day past that.
The same way Woojin can’t regard the compromising position they’re in, the same way he won’t show an ounce of refinement in front of him.
“Yeah, baby?” he croons into the crook of his neck, a faint scent of Taehyung’s favorite fragrance lingering on his shirt’s collar. Smells pretty. “Maybe Woojin should go now since I’ve returned. What do you think?”
An insufferable person, Woojin adapts a bold stance, probably because his skull’s too fucking thick to articulate any of the hints relayed. “So, Taehyung-ssi, where was I? Oh, right: when I asked ‘what are the chances you’d string along with me’?”
Something in him snaps.
“Hey, can’t you take a hint?” Jeogguk’s sharp, Busan dialect slithers into each enunciation while shuffling Taehyung further into his lap, hugging onto him, bringing him closer. “It’s kind of pathetic how you’ve received no response from hyung, and yet you’re still standing there. Do us a favor and fuck off, yeah?”
Serving the perfect amount of annoyance, Woojin declares defeat with a raise of his arms and eludes their field of vision.
“No fucking way,” Taehyung’s the first to break the tension in the air. “You implied that I was jealous only for you to do this?”
“I—”
His head rolls backwards, falls onto Jeongguk’s shoulder as Taehyung then cranes his neck to look up at him. Erasing the deep honey-brown color of his eyes with a thick black ring of lust, the evident notion that he’s into it causes Jeongguk’s cock to stir. “C’mon, need you to fuck me. I’m all yours.”
(Needless to say, Seojoon’s party ends with a bang.)
►
A tuft of clouds maneuver across the blue sky, serene waves crash upon shore and the salty sand threatens to overpower the scent of sunscreen.
Suggested by Jimin (whose appreciation for sceneries like these have grown immensely), Jeongguk, Taehyung, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jimin hang at Daecheon beach. The forecast revealed no indications of rain showers or drizzling, so for half an hour, they’ve all spent it enjoying such a beautiful atmosphere.
Growing up in Busan, Jeongguk inevitably fell in love with beaches. Full of life, light and a positive vibration encompassing the seaside, only the best memories have transpired with his toes in the sand and the sun on his skin.
It’s a great day.
“Seokjin-hyung!” Namjoon shouts from beside their giant cooler, withdrawing a cold can of Coca-Cola. “Where did you put our snacks?!”
“Ah?!” Seokjin shouts distantly from the water, flailing from the current which pushes him to shore. “Oh, snacks?! They’re in the big, blue bag by Yoongi!”
Namjoon inspects Yoongi’s surroundings, confused with everything there that’s not big and blue until Jeongguk spots the bag under a blanket, lifts it by its straps and extends it over.
“Thanks!”
“Mhm.”
He promptly returns to the phone, thumbs resuming their travel on the keyboard.
Hey, mom. Hope you’re well.. So, the reason I’ve dismissed the topic of ‘dating’ and whether I’ve found the one for me is because I wasn’t ready to confess to anything. Neither was my partner..
Not too long after Seojoon’s party, Jeongguk had reflected on Taehyung’s idea. Thought long and hard about what it’d mean to ‘fake-date’ and what potential consequences would unfold should their schemes fall flat.
In the end, its pros outweigh the cons.
They’re fake-dating.
“Mm, what’re you doing?” a sleepy voice mumbles, Taehyung lifting his head from the pillow he’d brought, straw hat tilted at an angle. There’s a mark on his cheek from when he’d tucked a hand under it. “Texting your mom?”
Jeongguk takes a minute to scan the latter’s appearance and boops him on the nose. “Yeah, I told her. I didn’t mention names, though I did say I’ve got a partner.”
“Oooh. I wonder how she’ll react.”
“She’ll be ecstatic,” he guarantees, nodding repeatedly. The waves drone in the background. “Hyung, I know we’re on a break, so I was wondering if, well—I dunno… Are you cool with visiting my parents? If I really want to sell this idea, I figured I could bring you to mine?”
Maybe it’s pathetic. Maybe it’s all too much.
Maybe Taehyung hadn’t thought too far in advance and probably regrets sharing their ploy.
“Okay.”
What?
“Okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay as in ‘okay-okay’?”
The uncertainty is palpable.
“Do you need me to search the word online and shove the results in your face?” Taehyung jokes as he sits up to recline on the chair. His tummy folds a little—a pouch beneath the belly button—and Jeongguk fights the urge to squish it within his fingers. “I love your parents, so I’m on board with visiting them. Are you planning for sometime in the week? The weekend?”
Mesmerized by the light hairs that trail into the seams of his shorts, Jeongguk takes a little too much time to reply and has to shake himself a bit. “Uh, yeah, yes. The weekend? If you’re available?”
“Hm, I’ll have to check my calendar,” Taehyung steals the shades next to him and shoves them on. “Nah, I’m free. This weekend’s good. I’m stoked!”
“Me too.. Me as well.”
“Are you good?”
“Fine. I’m… fine.”
It’s convenient for Jeongguk’s phone to vibrate then because it saves him from utter, destructible humiliation.
Questions emerge right on screen.
Mom 💚
Honey! Oh gosh, I’m tempted to call you to congratulate you but I know you’re a busy 🐝!
Wow, I’m thrilled to hear the news!
My baby’s dating somebody 💛
Who are they? What are they like?
You met them in uni, I assume?
That’s the thing, I don’t want to spoil any information when I can just take them with me to see you guys on the weekend?
“Is that her?”
“Yup and I was right: she’s happy about us.”
Taehyung reaches over to ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, murmuring a small, “Cute.”
Mom 💚
What?!
Yes, yes please!!!!
I’d love to see you and meet them 😘
I hope you don’t mind me showing your dad. He’s equally happy 😁
Wooow, I can’t believe it’s happening.
Treat them right and may they treat you right, too!!!
‘Always,’ gets typed in the chat, ‘I’m 100% positive you’re going to like them. They’re very nice, humorous, respectful, and they cherish me for who I am.. I feel like I’ve found the one for me ❤️ They’re wonderful, mom. Truly wonderful.’
No lies were omitted in their messages. What Jeongguk claims is the truth in its entirety: Taehyung’s wonderful and nice, makes him brim with happiness on a constant day-to-day basis.
He puts the phone down for a moment, stares at the striped pattern of the umbrella that shields him from the sun.
“You mind being a doll and applying sunscreen on my back?”
On auto-pilot, Jeongguk moves into a seated position and imitates grabby hands for the bottle, thrilled to get it on. Taehyung merely giggles and reaches into a nearby woven basket, fetching what’s needed. “Here you go. Thanks, honey.”
Four consecutive dollops are squirted on his broad shoulder blades, nape of the neck, small of the back, as well as the little dimples nestled there. And god, his skin is so smooth and pretty, glistening like a thousand jewels.
Taehyung rests his face on top of clasped hands, tongue swiping over the corner of his mouth as Jeongguk starts to smoothen each application in circles. “Oh,” he breathes outward, “Feels nice. Your fingers are nice and cold.”
“Are they…?” he tries hard to focus, then fails miserably due to the crack of Taehyung’s ass peeking out from his swimming trunks. At this point, it’s unclear whether perspiration forms from the heat of the sun or the beautiful man sprawled beneath him. “Cream’s cold, I guess. Your skin’s warm.”
“Mmm.”
Meanwhile in the middle of application, the other boys continue to enjoy themselves. Seokjin and Jimin splash each other in the water, Yoongi and Namjoon prioritize their time by reading and eating by the shade, and Hoseok admires the scenery on a blanket.
“You guys want snacks?” Namjoon unzips the bag and shows an arrangement of goods: chips, cookies, fruits stored in baggies.
With Jeongguk’s hands lathered in oil, he’s unable to feed himself, so he declines.
“No, c’mon. What’re you in the mood for?” inquires Taehyung, reclining on his elbows and sticking his arm out to grab. “I’ll feed you, it’s no problem.”
“Apple slices, please?”
Namjoon passes a bag over to which Taehyung pries open its ziplock, plucking a slice and reaching behind to feed him. Jeongguk welcomes the juicy slice into his mouth, chewing as he rubs the consistency in.
“So, I didn’t feel like causing tension, but—” Yoongi drawls from nowhere, shuffling on the chair he’s on as he closes his journal. He stares at them closely, as if he’s drawn a conclusion of some sort. “Couldn’t help notice you guys have grown a lot closer and comfortable recently.”
Did it really come across like that?
“Your verdict, hyung?” Taehyung edges him on.
“...You’re boyfriend’s now,” Yoongi coordinates the puzzle pieces. “And you didn’t want to tell us because you were concerned about our reactions, if we’d show support for you or not.”
All in all, the theory’s laughable.
“That so?” Jeongguk joins the conversation, “Are you the only person in the group who concluded we’re dating?”
“No,” Yoongi refuses, earnest. “Seokjin and Hoseok did, too.. Why you’d abstain from telling us is beyond me because you’re our friends; we care about you two more than anything.”
Weirdly, Yoongi’s admittance sparks a good feeling in Jeongguk. Relief? Comfort?
Regardless of how inaccurate his theory was, the thought of them showing compassion and sending their stamp of approval holds much significance. He appreciates the sentiment greatly.
“We aren’t,” snickers Taehyung, “Sorry to burst your bubble, hyung.”
Namjoon sputters in between a lick of his popsicle. “What?! You’re not?”
“We’re not,” Jeongguk provides additional confirmation for them. “Nope. Not dating.”
Yoongi flashes a dubious gaze, as if they’re hiding something behind the scenes. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Why the sudden closeness, huh?” Namjoon grabs a steady hold of his melting treat. “Where’s it coming from?”
“Exactly,” Yoongi retorts in distaste, shutting his journal. Clicks his pen in annoyance. “They’re bullshitting us, Joon.”
“We’re not bullshitting anyone,” Taehyung relaxes on the pillow as Jeongguk’s fingers maneuver to his sides, tickling him slightly. A trickle of sunlight seeps through, graciously showing Jeongguk the curve of his hips and how they taper outward to a nice, squishy and fat ass. “As much as we joke and play around, hyung, we’re just fucking.”
“Just fucking…” Namjoon has removed the headphones over his ears and sits pensive on the situation. His popsicle’s on the verge of spilling off the stick. “As like—boyfriends?”
Jeongguk wants to cackle at how incredulous they’re acting, so Taehyung nudges him in the rib, then offers another apple slice. “No! Not as boyfriends. We’re fuck-buddies. We’re experimenting, enjoying each other’s companies.”
“Okay, so that brings me to my original question: why are you closer than ever?”
“We’re fake dating, okay?” Jeongguk blurts, unable to stop the words from spouting. “We’re fake dating because my mom kept wondering if I met somebody and because I’m single, Taehyung-hyung thought of the idea that we fake-date. He’s coming to visit my parents on the weekend.”
It’s been said and done.
“So…” Yoongi nods, processing the details for a brief interval, “You lied to your mom?”
Jeongguk’s hands halt.
“No…” his voice drops, too. “I didn’t lie to her.” (He did.)
Namjoon digs a deep hole, throwing him in it. “Yes, you did. Regardless of your intentions, you instilled a false, romantic fantasy in her head.”
Jeongguk dislikes how Namjoon says it. Feels like they’ve gotten scolded for attempting to appease someone important to him.
They weren’t wrong.
“Namjoon-hyung, please,” Taehyung says in a serious voice. With the shades over his eyes, he still looks pretty upset; it even resonates in his voice. “He’s not at fault. I created the idea, I told him it’d be good, so don’t put the blame on him.”
“Hey, sorry...”
“Do you believe it’s smart of you both to do that?” Yoongi pipes back in, “You’re fucking, that’s all your relationship entails. How are you going to convince her or mister Jeon without doing what couples usually do?”
Surprisingly, those are natural and easy tasks for them. Hand-holding? Done. Kissing? Done. Hugging? Done.
The one minor setback is their commitment.
Everything else will roll smoothly.
“I’m not a theatre student for no reason, Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung mocks, overflowing with absurdity. “I’ll do whatever I need to convince them. We’ll do an exceptional job, right?”
‘Whatever I need to.’
It’s unknown why the aforementioned part evokes a bitter sensation in Jeongguk. Why his jaw clenches at the mention, why he hurries to finish and wipes his hands like he wants to scramble from the spot.
From the area in general.
What the hell’s gotten into him?
“Yeah.”
He never gets to finish those apple slices.
►
Tension.
He insists it was tension which made him feel odd at the beach. Tension caused by some buildup of ‘post’ course-related stress, as fake as it may sound.
After they’d gotten into a discussion with their friends about the ordeal, they’d gone swimming together and Taehyung kissed him with his arms looped around Jeongguk’s neck, murmuring redundant apologies in the middle of the water.
With a mere brush of their lips, the tension managed to subside. So now, despite the occurrence and them resolving something that never needed a solution to begin with, Jeongguk’s okay.
They’re okay.
In fact, they’re so okay, they’re at a convenience store’s parking lot, courtesy of Taehyung who begged to purchase a bottle of alcohol for his parents. He reassured him it was a nice gesture (and host’s gift), and that he’d also receive brownie points because they like to drink.
“So - do you know anything about what your parents enjoy?” Taehyung shuffles in search of a red basket when they step past the sliding doors. Lets the handles drape over the crook of his forearm as he proceeds to move forward, fluffy slippers riding against the ground. (He wears those in public, yeah. Claims they’re comfortable as hell.) “Not like I’m ‘trying’ to get them wasted, but I do want to give them something nice. Something tasteful. Something… Expensive.”
“Expensive?”
“Yes, expensive,” he hums, nose upturned, “I’ve got money to blow.”
The important thing is: not many people would consider stuff like this. Not many people would step out of their way to purchase gifts, distribute them to their best friend’s family all due to a silly arrangement they made.
It’s not real, yet he cares.
It’s not real, yet he puts in effort.
It’s not real, yet Taehyung flies to the alcohol section in search of a nice, tasteful and expensive bottle of whatever because he’s a sweetheart.
Because he’s a sweetheart and he cares, and he thinks so considerately. Thinks with his heart, thinks loudly and boldly without boundary.
Once he surfs past the aisle, basket handles clacking against each other, Jeongguk sticks to watching the scene from afar.
“Seriously, what do they enjoy? Are they into bitter stuff? Like hardcore, toxic waste in your mouth?”
“You know, people from other aisles can overhear you and they can tell you’ve got no clue about drinking.”
“Hey, don’t be offensive.”
“Hyung, it’s true.”
Choosing to save him from embarrassment, Jeongguk approaches Taehyung, scanning every colorful bottle of alcohol stacked on the shelves. A wide assortment presents itself, so he rigorously considers the choices. His parents have a particular knack for fruit-flavors and out of every bottle there, the Moët & Chandon prove to be the best choice.
A combination of citrus, honey and various bright flavors? It’s perfect for them and they’ve tasted it, too.
“Moët,” he decides at an ultimate standpoint, tapping the bottle’s neat casing. “If you want to get them a bottle, get ‘em this.”
“They’ve drunk this before?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, it’s settled,” Taehyung smiles, pretty, pearly teeth on display, eyes creased at the ends. He’s happy. He’s happy. “Moët & Chandon for my fake-boyfriend’s lovely parents.” He grabs the box, places it in the basket and hums, thoughtful. “Do you think buying them chocolates would be too much?”
Chocolates?
Nobody has bought them sweets. Not friends, not actual previous partners.
Nobody.
It’s no wonder why Jeongguk’s caught by a whirlwind of surprise, coughing into his fist.
“C-Chocolates?” he reiterates, “Like, boxed chocolates?”
“It’s silly, isn’t it?” there’s a shift in expression - one of major disappointment - as the handles of the basket are gripped. “Sorry, don’t mind me. I remembered their favorite type of chocolate is white chocolate, and since we’re here, at a store… Anyway, I’m rambling. I’ll shut up, promise.”
How could he burst his bubble?
“No,” Jeongguk tugs on his wrist, navigating the outside of each aisle to find the candy section. When they manage to reach the area, he pulls Taehyung into the corner. “Buy them chocolate. Buy them what you want, hyung. They’re going to love it and they’re going to love you.”
They’ve situated themselves in front of a bunch of treats, and the elder lights up like a big, bright Christmas tree.
“What? For real?”
A nod.
“Positive?”
“Yes, hyung.”
It’s true what he said; his parents will appreciate Taehyung’s kindness. They might wonder if he’s out of his mind for doing something as precious and kind, yet they’ll accept thankfully and graciously anyway.
They’re nice people.
Without further assurance, the latter grabs a boxed heart of chocolates, tucking it close to his stomach.
Yeah, they’ll love it.
“That’s it? Got everything?”
“Yup! Let me purchase the stuff at the register. If you want, you can wait for me in the car.”
Figuring it’s a nice thing to do (as well as it serving as good practice since they’re playing as boyfriends), Jeongguk stays with Taehyung the whole time. Offers his card right before he pays, gets told not to do that, but lounges by the counter, helping grab bags and waiting for him to receive a receipt.
They leave the store fast, returning to the car and clipping on their seatbelts to resume their journey.
The GPS reveals about an hour and a half remaining of the trip, so to prevent boredom, they switch radio stations, singing along to the music they recognize. Shout lyrics, dance at stoplights and giggle in tandem.
All in all, getting the opportunity to do fun stuff like this with a person Jeongguk treasures, supplements him with a dose of happiness.
Similar to how it felt days ago at Seojoon’s party, it’s as if they’re the only individuals in the world.
Like if they’ve solely got each other.
All his worries hold less significance, shrinking into indecipherable pieces as they don’t harbor as much of an impact as they once did.
He likes how today’s turning out.
“So…” at the third stop light they halt at, Taehyung lowers the volume of the radio and drums his fingers on the wheel. “On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you?”
For sure, Jeongguk buzzes with excitement. It’s one thing to FaceTime and video chat his family on small, distant screens but it’s different with a close, in-real life unification. On that note, he’d rate it high.
“Ten,” he verbalizes. “A ten. Couldn’t sleep last night because of it.”
“What?” Taehyung exasperates, “Babe, you didn’t?”
The petname doesn’t go unnoticed. Perhaps it’s all a part of their practice - what they’re intended to exude later on.
“No, I couldn’t,” Jeongguk spreads his legs to get into a comfortable position. “Okay, lies. I managed three hours. Afterwards, I snuck onto my phone while you slept beside me. I was close to buying a pack of gum at the store to help keep me up. It probably wouldn’t have done much.”
“Well, why didn’t you?” Taehyung coos, petulant, “Or why didn’t you tell me to buy it for you? Or maybe juice? Oh, you’re sleepy. I’m sorry, honey.” He brushes the back of Jeongguk’s neck, and plays with the hairs of his head that are a bit overgrown. A deep frown forms. “Do you want to nap?”
“No,” Jeongguk shakes in dismissal. “No napping. I’ll stay up with you, hyung.”
“But you’re tired. I’ll be good by myself if that’s what you worry about.”
Affirmative with his choice, Jeongguk glances at the GPS system. “I’m fine,” he says, noting the remainder of time left, “Got an hour and fifteen minutes. I’ll rest when we’re back at the dorms.”
When he travels with Taehyung who gives him energy during his most tiresome days, there should be no reason why Jeongguk can’t endure this particular afternoon.
He’ll do fine.
After shooting him a worrisome glance, Taehyung settles with the idea: “Alright, if you’re sure.”
For a majority of the route, they’re surrounded by an abundance of greenery and solid-colored cars which fly by them on the road. It’s a peaceful, pretty afternoon, but when Jeongguk stops observing their surroundings and the essence of nature, he focuses inside the car and at Taehyung who’s far prettier to look at.
His side-profile is (for lack of a better adjective) so fucking gorgeous that when he registers their presence in the vehicle and how Taehyung’s the one driving them, Jeongguk’s breath hitches.
It hitches in the middle of his throat, a ball which suffocates him slightly before he grabs the water bottle between them to chug away the mass.
Somewhat shaky, a few streams of water dribble from the corners of his mouth, earning a snort from the latter himself.
“You got a hole in your mouth?”
“Fuck,” Jeongguk curses as he tugs the glove compartment open and scours for napkins, flushed in the face. “Think you hit a bump or something.”
Clearly, it’s a lie. He used this as an excuse to hide him being so caught up in staring at Taehyung, he couldn’t handle his beauty, nor remember how to inhale or exhale.
It’s twisted.
“A bump?” Taehyung repeats, almost incredulous. “I never hit a bump!”
“Sure you did,” Jeongguk lies while wiping the small mess, nervous and jittery. “Are you paying attention to the road or what, hyung?”
(He doesn’t ever want to speak of it again.)
When they eventually make it to the front of the familiar house, Taehyung turns off the engine, retracting the key from the ignition. And when they exit the vehicle, the car hit with two beeps, an unexpected wave of anxiety washes over Jeongguk like a tsunami.
Last semester, he visited his mom and dad—came by for a week or two, sleeping each night in his old bedroom—but there’s a person accompanying him today. An additional guest to join: his fake boyfriend, Taehyung.
Jeongguk came up with the plans of them visiting and introducing him as his partner, but who’s to say he can’t feel anxiety tug at his stomach?
Sensing a spiral of the nerves, Taehyung eyes Jeongguk warily, clutching tight on his gifts as they travel up the gravel driveway. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“Hungry,” he replies - which isn’t too far from the truth. Jeongguk’s ready to devour a plate of his mom’s food. “I’m hungry and I guess the ride made me feel queasier.”
“Oh,” Taehyung says in realization, through pursed lips. “Well, your mom cooked, so you’ll be eating soon. Are you ready to do the honors?”
Finally, here goes.
When they reach the doorstep, three knocks batter against the surface.
Briefly, as he’d unknowingly held a breath in, Jeongguk releases an entire string of air as Sooyeon and Jaehyuk appear on the adjacent part of the house when the door opens.
Within the speed of light, Sooyeon’s the first to greet him, rushing to embrace her son in her arms and delivering the strongest, sweetest hug. She’s so warm, radiating with delight, long hair tickling his cheeks. “How wonderful to see you, angel!”
Hugging back with as much strength and enthusiasm, Jeongguk cherishes the embrace as it happens, flashing a cheesy smile at his father who watches them with endearment. “I’m happy to be here!”
And then follows the moment of comprehension.
The moment where they comprehend that the special someone he spoke about is Taehyung.
Sure, he never expected them to act harsh or irrational, though Sooyeon squealing and Jaehyuk eliciting a genuine gasp wasn’t a part of the possibilities.
Even Taehyung’s stunned by the initiation of their collective embrace, gaping when they throw their arms around him.
Like if he’s a part of the family.
“Oh gosh,” Sooyeon shrieks when she withdraws from the hug, attention flitting back and forth between them. “How? How did I not figure this out? How did I not put two and two together and realize that you became a thing?”
Jaehyuk agrees, amusingly appending: “I knew this day would happen. You gathered the courage to confess, huh?”
Faltering at their commentaries, beginning signs of confusion seep in while Taehyung, on the contrary, isn’t too perturbed or listening to what they said. Instead, he’s focused on guiding the champagne bottle into Sooyeon’s clutch, along the box of white chocolates.
From his animated features and how he hurries to give it to them, it’s more than clear he’s elated.
“For you!” Taehyung exclaims with a chirpy attitude. “I wanted to provide you guys with gifts as a token of my gratitude; Jeongguk helped me pick the drink. He said you liked it?”
As expected, Sooyeon and Jaehyuk admire and exhibit a mutual share of appreciation towards the items, but then they insist it’s too much and push it to him. “Sweetheart, you didn’t have to! Oh, we couldn’t possibly take this.”
Fortunately for him, Taehyung’s insistence wins them over as he nudges the gifts back with wide, puppy-eyes. “Please, it’s the least I can do for your hospitality and kindness.”
As like all people who fall susceptible to those specific charms of his, they accept the offerings, then welcoming the boys inside their home.
At first glance, nothing has seemed to change. Everything’s organized - in place - with a magazine left on the living room table. However, there is a delicious scent trailing from the kitchen, increasing his hunger tenfold.
God, Jeongguk can’t wait to dig in.
At the doorway, as they go to remove their shoes and put them neatly to the side, a medium-sized, white figure runs to Jeongguk, followed by a yap! and a ferocious wiggle of the tail.
Gureum.
His dog greets him with excitement, jumping on two hind legs to scratch at his shins in a plea for him to crouch.
“Baby!” Jeongguk shouts, dropping fast in order to smother him with an endless amount of hugs and kisses. He pats his head, rubs the fluffiness of Gureum’s ears, showing unconditional love he’d missed giving him in the past months.
Just like his parents, Jeongguk hasn’t seen Gureum in a while. He’s a childhood pet and they’ve been close buddies since he was eleven years old.
Through thick and thin, the good and bad, Gureum and Jeongguk were each other’s companions. During early mornings and late nights, Jeongguk’s parents would catch them hanging together, and they’d never leave the other companion by themselves.
They’re best friends, really.
Gureum continues to yap in delight, scrambling at Jeongguk’s arms so he can pick him up. Quick to oblige, he scoops the puppy and nuzzles on him with his nose, treasuring the warmth and tickle of Gureum’s fur.
“Who’s a good boy?” a cute, high-pitched voice is elicited from Jeongguk as he indulges him in rubs. Any pet owner would know—it’s a common phenomenon that takes over when one is around their animals. Even when it’s not intended, the voice naturally emanates. “Who’s a good boy? Yes, it’s you! You’re a good boy!”
At an unfathomable frequency, Gureum’s tail wags, imitating helicopter blades as they circulate.
A pair of feet thud from behind, accompanied by a squeak of the door shutting.
“Wow,” Taehyung squats as he adjusts his rose-gold shades over the top of his head, forehead revealed. “He’s so happy. Look at the little guy’s tail!”
“Oh, he definitely is,” Jaehyuk says as he stands by the couch. “Gureum has missed Jeongguk so much. Sometimes he’ll scurry to his room and I’ll spot him on the bed, like if he’s waiting for him to come back home.”
“Aww!” Taehyung pouts, hands clasped as he observes them. “Oh, why would you say that? Now I’ve got the image stuck in my head! Did you hear your dad, Jeongguk-ah? Gureum waits for you in your room, hoping you’ll return.”
“Is it true?” Gureum looks at Jeongguk when he asks in that squeaky voice, tongue withdrawn. “You miss me when I’m gone, bud? Because I miss you. I miss you so much! Wish I could take you with me to my university, but pets aren’t allowed in our dormitories. They’re cruel counselors who made stupid, cruel rules.”
More scratches are provided on the back of his ears, all of which makes Gureum shake and kick his hind leg.
“I love you,” Jeongguk coos, “I loooove you. You’re getting big. You’re a big boy.”
“May I pet him? Please?”
As if Gureum can understand the question, he makes a deliberate choice when he scrambles from Jeongguk’s arms, leaping to Taehyung and lapping on his fingers.
A smile forms then with a tinge of fondness circulating at the sight of them together.
“Oh, oh, he remembers me!”
“—And still likes you too!” points Sooyeon.
Of course, Gureum would. Dogs are very intuitive, knowing what people’s intentions are, and his memory happens to be exceptional, too, despite how much older he’s gotten.
“He loves you,” Jeongguk claims, gesturing at the fluffy appendage which flutters in a frantic manner. “Gureum’s tail is wagging so fast, it’s hilarious from this angle.”
After a moment filled with Gureum’s panting and their coos at the dog, it’s decided: “I’m gonna steal him, just so you know.”
At the empty threat, Jeongguk nearly loses balance as he chuckles. “Hyung, you would have nowhere to take him because our campus won’t allow pets. I literally explained this to him.”
“Sucks, right? Stupid rules, stupid campus people,” Taehyung cups the puppy’s face and puckers his own mouth while he speaks. “Aren’t they stupid, baby? Imagine not wanting to have you around.”
For ten minutes, they pet Gureum who enjoys any and all attention. He shifts between them, permitting turns for Taehyung and Jeongguk to pat his belly and massage his ears. When they’re called into the kitchen upon dinner being announced, they give final pats to his head prior to leaving and washing their hands at the sink.
“Woah. It smells good, mom,” Jeongguk states as he eases into a chair after having dried up, ogling the dishes laid across the table. She’d created a marvelous dinner consisting of sundubu-jjigae and rice - both mouthwatering as steam emits.
Inserting himself in the seat next to him, Taehyung feels inclined to concur, saying the stew looks and smells delightful, as well as expressing how grateful he is to receive such a meal.
They may eat well at the dorm, but her cooking is like no other.
Once each chair is occupied, they begin to feast, savoring the slight spice in the tofu that’s subdued by the rice. And goodness, it’s amazing. Jeongguk isn’t just saying it because his mother made it, he says it because it’s genuinely one of the greatest dishes he’s had, warming his stomach when it drops in.
So in tune with eating, he doesn’t comprehend the increased grip he has on his spoon.
Not until Taehyung notices the little detail, giggling childishly under his breath.
“Good?” Sooyeon sips on her drink, placing the cup on the coaster as a way to start a conversation. “Are you two enjoying it?”
“So very much, mom.”
“It’s—” Taehyung swallows a chewed portion, nodding along to answer, “—so, so good. Again, I really want to thank you for your hospitality and for making us dinner. We were super hungry on our way over.”
“Nonsense,” Sooyeon sucks her teeth in dispute, “No need to thank me. Thank you for your kindness and for driving to see us.”
When all falls quiet, Jaehyuk intervenes with a query of his own.
“So, I think your mom’s probably wondering the same as me: how did you become a couple?”
An unforeseen turn at dinner results in a couple of utensils clattering, indicative of astonishment brewed at the table. It should’ve been considered—the endless, possible questions because it’s the first time in a long time since Jeongguk brought someone over to introduce to his parents.
With that said, they didn’t practice shit. It was a whimsical decision they made - an irresponsible one, too. They didn’t prepare for much of anything, except for rehearsing their roles as a couple which wasn’t a troubling task.
Dread springs into action. Makes Jeongguk feel too nervous to swallow what’s in his mouth.
What the fuck does he say?
An essential life saver, the light and rock keeping him stabilized on earth, Taehyung sweeps into the conversation. Sheds attention on himself as he replies with confidence and not an ounce of discomposure shown.
“Well…” he dabs at his mouth with a napkin, “We were assigned a team project for one of our classes, and we got to spend a lot of time side by side. We’re already roommates, as you know, so it was easy for us to cooperate. Usually, if you’re paired with a student who you’re not close with or who’s not on your floor, it can be a huge hassle…”
If it weren’t evident, Taehyung talks straight out of his ass to Jeongguk’s parents - which is kind of funny because they believe each detail. They consume the context like it’s straight out of a cliché romance film about young adults who found love under the most ordinary set of circumstances.
As Jeongguk stuffs another spoon of rice in his mouth, he belatedly registers the latter still doing the honors in controlling their story.
“...And I don’t know,” Taehyung says, and it’s expressed in such an uncertain tone, Jeongguk almost falls for it. For his act - their act. “I guess in the initial weeks, we were playing around, and I remember when we were sitting at the computer desk a while back, I felt an urge to look over—”
On cue, Taehyung peers at him, a scintillating twinkle in his eyes and there’s an immediate pull in Jeongguk’s chest, a bizarre warmth spread internally that’s reminiscent of a fireplace during winter. And oh, he’s suddenly warm—so, so warm—feeling like he’d gotten enveloped in comforters and somehow, in some way, taken care of with a gentle lilt in words.
He stops mid-chew. Thinks the world slowed down to let him process what’s going on.
“—and I thought, wow, he’s gorgeous. Of course, I’ve always thought so about Jeongguk, but when I saw him close up, I could count his lashes, see the scar on his cheek, the beauty mark which kisses his nose. That’s when I rationalized with myself: I’ve been in love all along.”
It’s all a part of their act. A stupendous improvisation that exhibits how good of an actor Kim Taehyung is.
Like Yoongi and Namjoon were told, he’s a theatre student for a reason, but Sooyeon and Jaehyuk are unaware of all this.
Is it something Jeongguk should feel ashamed of?
For leading them on?
“Love is beautiful,” his dad holds onto Sooyeon’s hand and squeezes. “We’re happy things worked out between you.”
Sooyeon squeezes back. “Who confessed first?”
“Your son,” Taehyung giggles with flushed cheeks, and it’s so weird because it’s a real reaction, a real, thorough conveyal of being flustered by the prospect. By the thought of confessions, by the thought of their ‘love,’ and Jeongguk taking an initiative of laying the cards on the table. “He confessed at breakfast. Told me he liked me a lot, and I took it as, ‘oh, he likes me as a friend and values our friendship,’ until he held my hands and assured me it wasn’t in a platonic way..”
Jeongguk can’t be blamed for pondering on it. For pondering on the scenario and concluding who’d be in what position. Taehyung’s the romantic type, so he feels like he’d take the lead.
Kind of like right now.
“Yeah,” he forms then, dropping his spoon and finally providing something to the topic at hand. “I confessed. I—I don’t know, it wasn’t a romantic setting or anything, but I watched hyung as he ate a bowl of cereal when something lit up, you know? He looked adorable and he was focused on watching a show on his phone, so that’s when I nudged him on the shin, hyung removed his headphones and I told him, ‘I like you.’”
The way his parents grin at him makes Jeongguk shuffle in his seat, at the verge of melting.
“What?” he can’t help the complaint. “Why do you stare at me like that?”
“Because we’re happy,” Jaehyuk confirms. “We’re happy because we’ve liked Taehyung, how good he is with you. He’s a respectful young adult, and you compliment each other well.”
Mimicking their actions, Taehyung slides a hand across the table. Wedges his fingers between Jeongguk’s, interlocking sweetly and comfortably.
“I’m going to take care of him, I promise you.”
“We’d never doubt it, sweetheart.”
When dinner is finished, Taehyung’s quick to collect their plates, piling them one atop the other, saying that since Sooyeon cooked, it’s right for him to clean. Jeongguk’s parents aren’t too hard to convince as they choose to wait in the patio, playing with Gureum in the meantime.
When they’re officially left alone, Jeongguk then pins him into the nearest wooden cabinet, hand slotted between the juncture of his neck and shoulder, bringing their mouths together.
A squeak emerges from those heart-shaped, velvet lips, water leaking and soap dribbling to the tiled floor from the sponge Taehyung squeezes hard by accident.
“God, you’re so good to me,” murmurs Jeongguk, thumb reaching to rub against his protruded collarbone, licking over his bottom lip, tugging it between teeth. “You sold it; they really believed us.”
“Jeongguk...” Taehyung’s whining, moving with the cutest pout that just makes him want to kiss him all over again. “As hot as it was for you to randomly pin me against these cabinets, you made me soak the floor. Now you’ve gotta dry it with paper towels.”
It doesn’t bother him in the slightest.
In fact, as he’s ordered to clean, he serves a charming grin, presses a final kiss to his mouth and rips a couple of tissues to absorb the puddle.
Cleaning doesn’t necessarily stop him from teasing, though. Nor being in his parents place.
After throwing the tissues in the trash can, Jeongguk hugs Taehyung from behind, wrapping his arms around him as he tucks his chin over his shoulder. It’s a little domestic, but the point is to press himself against his ass.
Allow Taehyung to determine all of him.
The dishes would’ve dropped and created a ruckus had it not been for a swift catch.
And he chuckles, devious, a noise rumbling low while Taehyung’s forehead knocks against the cabinet in front of him. There’s no space there - simply two bodies joined together and conceiving the heat between them.
Subsequently conscious to any type of movement done, Jeongguk can make out the curve of his ass, the perceptible rocking of the hips. Despite Taehyung trying to do a good deed, he’s desperate for it.
Aching for it.
They haven’t fucked in a couple of days. Must be that.
Under a breath, Taehyung comments: “You’re hard.”
“Can’t help it when you’re grinding against my cock like that.”
“God, Jeongguk—we’re in your parent’s house.”
“So? They’re on the patio.”
A quiet moan spills, demonstrating vulnerability and just how easy he is to rile. Wedging himself in the crease of Taehyung’s ass, Jeongguk rolls his hips upwards so the friction increases and they can feel a lot better.
They may be separated by a few layers of clothing, yet it invigorates enough pleasure to have him biting on Taehyung’s shoulder, fingers slipping up his shirt to squeeze on his waist.
He’s warm, soft.
“God, you’re so big,” the latter sighs, breathless, willingly rolling against him as they stand by the sink. The water which splashed on the counter and accumulated altogether has now soaked the front of Taehyung’s shirt. “Really wish we were at the dorms so you could fuck me open.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” comes the verification, hands itching to grab on him, but they’re too soapy and wet. “I’d let you cum in me.”
Instinctively, he presses deeper, nudges him impossibly close to the surface. “Oh, you’d let me cum in you?”
Although they may have embarked on a dangerous territory, they’re fully conscious that they must stop soon. Because not even a few feet away, a couple doors away, his parents hang on the patio.
It’d be improper. Unethical.
Still, Jeongguk’s an unapologetic tease, fiddling with Taehyung like the strings of a guitar for the next thirty seconds. He rubs on his ass, letting him know what he’s missing- what they’ll eventually have.
“Whatever you do, Taehyung-hyung, don’t picture me sliding my cock in your tight ass, pounding into you while I pull on your hair.” As if the description hadn’t already awakened the neediest part of Taehyung, the figurative killer of it all is the, “Mm, good grip,” as he runs fingers through his long, fluffy hair, yanking with a force so strong, his neck arches towards the ceiling.
He was supposed to wash dishes.
What the fuck are they doing?
“Fuck, I hate you,” the remark is more passive than anything. “You’re a real jerk.”
Satisfied with the reaction received, Jeongguk presses a final kiss onto his cheek and slithers out of the kitchen, finding his way to the occupied patio.
There, he catches his parents conversing, Gureum in his father’s arms as he strokes the puppy’s belly.
“Hi,” Jeongguk greets nonchalantly, pretending as if what happened in the kitchen didn’t actually occur. Sooyeon waves, ushering him to come to them, and for a few moments after, they engulf their son into another big hug.
“We missed you,” Jaehyuk says as he cradles Gureum with them. “We’re also happy about you and Taehyung. We want you to know we support your relationship and we’re happy to know he’s taking care of you.”
Sooyeon nods in agreement, brushing Jeongguk’s forearm. “It was easy to tell how much you mean to him.. He’s grown up, hasn’t he?”
In a literal sense, yes. He’d gone from a short stature and held an innocent impression to becoming taller, his features growing into his face, and attaining the deepest voice which sends shivers throughout Jeongguk’s spine.
Physically, mentally, emotionally, he’s grown, and it’s this singlehanded piece of knowledge that’ll forever stun him.
(Sure, getting older and maturing is all a part of human evolution, but Jeongguk would be lying if he said he wasn’t affected by the outcome.
By Taehyung’s gradual development.)
He swallows. “Yeah, hyung’s all grown up.”
They don’t say anything else; opting to observe the sunset, purple, pink and orange blanketing the sky. It’s significantly warm with the light casting their shadows across the walls.
With such a pretty view above them, Jeongguk’s mind trails.
“Dad…”
“Yes?”
His feet shuffle. “You mentioned earlier that you knew this day would come. What—uh, what were you meaning by it?”
“I wasn’t implicit?” Jaehyuk chuckles, and it causes Jeongguk to fiddle with his thumbs while Sooyeon grabs a hold of Gureum. “It wasn’t so surprising to have you both on our doorstep. You two were always inseparable and I guess it was a matter of time before you did your thing, confessed and became a couple.”
“Oh.”
Oh as in Jeongguk can’t sort the right words—the right expression—so he suffices with a small sound. A small, brief and fleeting acknowledgment to his father’s response. He zips his mouth, reflecting on every memory he and Taehyung made in the house.
There’s far too many than he can count.
A figure then approaches the sliding door, Taehyung peeking his head past the opening. “Hey, sorry to interrupt...” he apologizes, “May I come in?”
Sooyeon smiles and nods. “Of course. We were just chatting.. Taehyung-ah, do you drink? I was planning on popping open the bottle this evening so we could enjoy a glass.”
“Oh, thank you!” Taehyung pipes in delight as he steps out onto the patio with a shiny grin. “But I’m driving us tonight so…”
Whatever else gets said fades out, distant noise to Jeongguk’s ears. He discerns their mouths moving, yet he doesn’t listen to the exchange. He leans into the wall behind him, watching as they interact.
His mom is, without a doubt, happy. Darts her attention between him and Taehyung with fondness, almost as if she’s conceptualizing them really happening.
As if this isn’t some figment of her imagination.
Now as he thinks about it, it’d probably break her if she were to discover the truth.
He hopes they never reach that point.
►
If Taehyung’s in need of a listener or a person to cry to, more often than not he’ll retreat to Jeongguk. Granted, they’re best friends (so it’s pretty blatant why he’d choose him for moments of liberation), though if the issue pertains to Jeongguk himself, Taehyung will go to Jimin.
If not apparent, Jimin’s another best friend of his who’s a consistent listener. Listens closely, offers introspective advice, and has usually helped Taehyung with deciding whether to think with his heart or his brain for certain situations.
Says whether something sounds good or bad, spares validation when necessary and makes trivial instances gain newfound significance.
In general, he’s an empathic soul, but if he unearths a matter bothersome to him, Jimin won’t stay quiet for anyone.
With this said, it shouldn’t be shocking to Taehyung that Jimin became frustrated about Saturday’s affair. How he even discovered their plans all falls on Namjoon and Yoongi who accidentally exposed them after showing suspicious behavior when Jimin probed.
It’s not like Taehyung minds (Jimin’s allowed some insight into their lives and to know what they do), but he doesn’t like to be scolded.
Well, it’s not exactly ‘scolding.’ It’s more of a ‘lecture’ where Jimin expresses immense concern.
“I don’t know, Tae. It’s—it’s not an ideal situation to get caught up in,” Jimin warns on the screen of the laptop as he simultaneously texts on his phone. “Like I explained to you in the car, you two share a platonic relationship where you fuck and suck on the side because that’s as far as you’re willing to go. What part of lying to Jeongguk’s parents seemed rational to you then?”
No response.
“Tae…”
“I wanted to help, okay?” he says slowly, reading glasses low on his nose. “His mom kept pushing and pushing about his personal life, and so to provide ease and relief, I suggested to Jeongguk that we fake-date.”
Jimin heaves a booming groan.
“No, listen!”
Phone thrown elsewhere, Jimin opts to look at the screen again. “Go on.”
Taehyung shuffles on the small bed, readjusting his posture, laptop wobbling as he moves. When he sits straight, he sighs a breath of air. Clarifies. “Jeongguk would constantly tell me how much they adored me. They considered me a ‘good influence’ and they appreciated our friendship from the start.”
“Alright, and I understand that.”
“Okay, so if you understand that, what’s there not to understand about me being an incredible best friend who pretended we were romantically involved?”
The fine line between convenience and inconvenience has blurred beyond recognition; he simply can’t rationalize Jimin’s perspective.
What they did was selfless. They gave Jeongguk’s parents the comfort of knowing their son was given love and care.
How is it wrong?
“For one, you lied,” Jimin sucks his teeth. “You also forgot they might want to talk to you or check in on your supposed relationship in the future.”
“So we continue the story? It’ll be easy since we’re roommates,” Taehyung trails, and Jimin looks so done at the reply. “Oh c’mon, what’s the problem? I only wanted to help!”
Through frustration, Jimin manages to administer a pursed smile. “I’m aware babe,” he nods. “And I love how selfless you are, how you care so much, you’re willing to put your all in order to help your friends.” Loyalty—it’s one of his most consistent traits. Taehyung offers loyalty because of the satisfaction that comes with it. In the inkling of putting a smile on a person’s face - in Jeongguk’s face and, in this case, Jeongguk’s parents. “You’re a good person, I hope you’ve comprehended that first and foremost...”
He detects an incoming conjunction.
“—but it’s crucial for you to recognize your feelings.”
Feelings?
What feelings?
Feelings on what? For who?
“Jimin…?” Taehyung guides the laptop closer, showing a squint of confusion. “What? Feelings about what?”
“Tae…” there comes an additional sigh and the confusion amplifies tenfold. How did they get to a nonsensical part of the conversation? Something unrelated and unimportant to the topic? “You’re an open book, meaning you show things so simply. It’s a beautiful characteristic to have, but sometimes it’s painful to witness as an outsider because you can’t discern things yourself.”
Okay, Taehyung has to laugh. “I swear I haven’t touched any alcohol within the last hour.”
“You’re not taking me seriously.”
“—Because...” he gnaws on his cheek, baffled by the bizarre position he’s been put in. “Jimin, I don’t get it. You’re talking about things I’ve got no clue on. What feelings? There are no feelings?”
“Really?” Jimin deadpans. “Can’t believe you’d deny to me the crush you’ve got on Jeongguk…”
Taehyung blinks once. Twice. Swears his ears twitch.
Crush?
Increasing the gravity of his explicit statement with more to say, Jimin concomitantly checks the shine to his nails. “You’re crushing on him, Tae. You get this dreamy twinkle in your eyes when you’re with him, you get jealous at the possibility of him hooking up with somebody that’s not you, you kiss him, you hold hands with him. Christ, you’ve gone on numerous dates labeled as ‘platonic’ all because of a silly arrangement you established.”
Eventually, Taehyung gathers courage to speak out. “Jimin...”
“What, Tae?”
“It’s not…” and he has to contemplate the wording, “...a crush.”
“Uh-huh, that’s what a person in denial would sound like.”
But—
It isn’t.
It’s not a crush. They’re fucking, right?
There’s no doubt about Jeongguk’s beauty; how he’s the replication of Adonis with a gorgeous set of glistening eyes, a nose rounded at the tip that trails to a prominent cupid’s bow below. The perfection of his defined jawline, curved shells of his ears, the small beauty marks scattered across his face and over the strong, sinewy plane of his back.
The beauty both inside and out.
There’s no doubt that Jeongguk personifies the sun—actually radiates more warmth and light than what the actual yellow star sheds.
No doubt that on a bad day, he’s the individual who reshapes the corners of Taehyung’s mouth. Shifts his frown into happiness and in eventual succeeding, elicits the most dulcet giggles which have ever graced the universe.
It’s not a crush.
Right?
He gulps. “You’re wrong.”
And he assumes Jimin will keep alluding to the ‘facts’ to convince him, but Jimin does the opposite. Lets the subject drop. “Fine. We’ll go with your rhetoric then.”
For reasons unknown, Taehyung senses a billow of disappointment sneak in.
“Anyway, I’ve gotta go. Call me tomorrow, will you?”
“Yeah,” he says, already going to close the laptop. “Have fun with Hoseok-hyung tonight.”
“Bye!”
“Bye.”
With Jimin gone and a muted room surrounding him, there’s lots to ruminate. Most importantly: Jeongguk.
He ruminates on Jeongguk, their relationship, and if his intentions weren’t at surface level, but effervescent and penetrating deep. If his intentions weren’t “platonic,” as he stated - if it was just a sick excuse due to difficulty in expressing true emotions.
There aren’t many people Taehyung liked—let alone dated—in his twenty-four years of life on earth. Sometimes he’d harbor mild infatuation for guys who’d do him wrong anyway, or for guys who wanted a simple lay and left him promptly.
After getting indulged, they’d let him go; claiming, “it wasn’t you, it was me,” which would serve the insecurities Taehyung still withstands up until today.
One morning it’ll be like sitting on cloud nine - without a care or concern in the world - and the next it’s like Taehyung’s tangled in a spiderweb of uncertainty, recklessness and a desire to be loved.
And it probably ties into their arrangement—why Taehyung’s so keen with Jeongguk, why he’ll admit to being clingier, why he seeks him specifically.
Because Jeongguk?
Jeongguk shows the affection Taehyung has craved all along, and he’s so easy to be around, so open minded and thoughtful. He hugs Taehyung, kisses Taehyung, which is far more than what any of those previous people could do.
He’s a sweet individual with such a bright, vivacious soul, and everyday, the question plagues his mind:
How did he score someone like him?
How?
Any person would agree Jeongguk’s very handsome, so with his spark of charm, he could’ve gotten with whatever person he wanted, yet instead he chose Taehyung.
It’s… bizarre, and through a flurry of insecurity, questionable - because how? Why?
Why him?
Why did Jeongguk pick Taehyung?
Fighting shy of his musing, Taehyung decides fuck it, and texts Jeongguk in regards to what time he’ll return from playing with Yoongi and Seokjin at the basketball court.
It’s not until a minute later where Jeongguk pings back with a specific hour and a special line of emojis dedicated to him.
And it’s not until a precise minute later that he weighs in on Jimin’s words.
Is it a crush?
Taehyung can’t withstand alcohol, much less the intensified concoction emulsified between them.
“Fuck,” he sets the laptop on the table to grab a pillow, and shoves his face in the crease. Obviously, the soft material does nothing to relinquish the turmoil within him.
What the hell does he do? How does he function with Jimin’s words repeating in mind?
Perhaps a cold glass of water will do the trick. Dragging himself to the corner of the room, Taehyung fills a cup to the brim and drinks it by the counter. Then he stumbles to the bed, still spiraling and contemplating.
Later, when Jeongguk returns from playing with their hyungs, it’s a funny circumstance because he catches Taehyung in an odd position; with his head dangled off the edge of the bed.
“What have I walked in on?”
Jimin. Crush.
Jeongguk.
A set of keys drop somewhere close by, and Jeongguk peels his FILA jacket off, tank top soaked in perspiration. It’s weird how through exhaustion, he looks fucking fantastic. Ravishing. It’s weird how he transfixes Taehyung and makes him drool a little.
“I’m fine,” Taehyung wiggles his toes. “Sorry, I’m just—I read online that laying upside down can decrease stress levels.”
“And where’d you read this?”
Taehyung bites on his lip. “Some article on Naver I saw a while ago, though all it’s done is make me lightheaded.”
An airy snicker releases from Jeongguk. “Yeah, I don’t know if hanging will do you good. It’ll probably relieve pressure in your lower half, but definitely not decrease your stress.”
“Could you help me?” Taehyung squeaks, afraid to move because he’s been in this position for an approximate twenty minutes and if he manages to by himself, he’ll definitely tumble backward.
Laying upside down apparently did more harm than good, considering the vertigo experienced.
An absolute sweetheart, Jeongguk chuckles as he approaches the bed and cuffs his wrists with his hands. He’s a strong individual as he then springs him upwards, but before Taehyung can register he’s not at the verge of falling, Jeongguk encases his face.
Kisses him.
They’ve kissed so much throughout these last months, one would suppose they’d get tired of it at some point, yet Taehyung—
Taehyung gasps into it, uncertain if he’s dizzy from the position he was in or because Jeongguk kissed him out of nowhere.
His lips are tender, moisturized, taste like fruit-flavored chapstick and his hands hold him so close, so personally, so intimately.
It’s chaste, lasts five seconds, and when they withdraw, Taehyung licks his lips, mango flavor dancing on his tongue.
“Hi beautiful,” Jeongguk grins from up close, and a metaphorical cage of butterflies unleashes from the pit of Taehyung’s stomach as they rattle. Stuck in a cloud of admiration and awe, he produces a nervous chuckle and grimaces at his lack of smoothness.
“Hello to you too, beautiful.”
“No, I called you ‘beautiful,’” exclaims Jeongguk with a furrowed expression, and he tucks a strand of hair behind Taehyung’s ear. “You’re the beautiful one.”
And really, Taehyung’s so close to spontaneous combustion, heat and sweat encompassing him whole, and he wants to curse at Jimin for mentioning anything because it lingers in the back of his head.
Can’t believe you’d deny to me the crush you have on Jeongguk…
“Well, I’m gonna wash up. Did you eat, hyung?”
“Yes,” Taehyung replies, hit with temporary sadness when Jeongguk nods to him, then leaves so he can go to the bathroom.
With their dormitory’s compact size and thin walls, the faucet and water spritzing from the showerhead can be heard running. Jeongguk’s hums can be perceived, too, and the angelic harmony makes Taehyung giddy.
It’s a total of fifteen minutes when the latter steps out of the bathroom, dressed in a pair of shorts and an old sweatshirt from years ago which still manages to fit loose.
Hair damp with droplets trickling past his temples, Jeongguk plops on the space beside him, scurrying for the remote ahead.
“Did you eat?” Taehyung passes the question to him, curious.
“I did. Yoongi and Seokjin took me to a place that recently opened up by the court. We had jajangmyeon, and Hoseok paid for our meals because he lost a bet,” recalls Jeongguk with an amused grin, pressing the ‘power’ button.
The screen turns on.
“Mm. Glad you had a pleasant meal then.”
“Thank you, babe.”
As of late, they’ve gotten looser with the pet-names and because neither of them speak of it, they’ve got to be cool, right?
They’re on good terms with it.
“Wanna watch a movie?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, come,” Jeongguk taps at his lap as he settles on the Netflix application, both their profiles prompted on the television. “Cuddle with me, hyung. I’m cold and lonely over here.”
With all other established aspects of their arrangement, ‘cuddling’ is the least intimate activity because it can be done with anyone. Cuddling is a universal deed many people like to partake in, be it with partners or - like them - friends.
So when Jeongguk tells him to come over, Taehyung wastes no time to crawl the distance between them, throwing a leg atop his while resting on his chest. They’re comfortable, snug, fit like two matching puzzle pieces.
Within minutes, a random film gets put on, to which neither had bothered to read the synopsis in its entirety. Taehyung swears he’d glimpsed at the ‘horror’ genre in its description, however.
“Is this scary?” he mumbles, muffled from his knuckles pressing into his cheek while he lays against him. Opening credits pour in: directors, producers along a notable ‘based on true events’ which indicate—
Yeah, it’s scary.
A hand travels flat on his hip, moving in small reassuring circles and patterns. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the monsters,” teases Jeongguk.
It’s such a natural scenario. Not a slither of awkwardness slips through the credits at the beginning of the movie. Taehyung enjoys this. Enjoys the peace, the tranquility they’ve built.
Enjoys Jeongguk’s heated palm and the velocity of his heart rate. (He checks it off as him being afraid of potential jumpscares, regardless of Jeongguk promising to keep him safe. Not because they’re pressed up together. Nope.)
Sooner than later, Taehyung stops paying attention to the drama. It was fifteen minutes in where he stopped caring for the lead actor whose motorcycle died in the middle of an eerie road encompassed by a forest. (Cliché indeed.)
He peers in an opposite direction, entranced by the picture frames they’ve decorated their dorm with. They attempted to replicate the comfort of their own homes, to which they successfully achieved. On the table, there’s a photo of his dog, Yeontan, and at the opposite end is a photo of Jeongguk with his parents. They’re smiling hard at the camera, love radiating through the frame. Subconsciously, it makes Taehyung smile, too.
Jeongguk must notice his lack of interest and creates a psst sound, tapping on his knee. “Not interested in the movie?” he whispers then, careful not to defeat the volume of the TV. “I see you’re looking everywhere except the television.”
“Honestly?” Taehyung lifts his head, catching sight of his concentrated expression and how his fine, arched brows crease at the center. “Yeah.”
“How come? Is it boring?”
“Eh.”
Jeongguk chuckles a little, still not looking away from the movie. “What is it then?”
Where the urge came from, Taehyung’s unsure, but he’s disoriented by how attractive Jeongguk looks in the moment, how his bare skin glistens from routine cleansing. There’s something so hot about him right now (at all times, really), so he can’t be blamed for his consequent actions.
Overtaken by arousal, Taehyung shifts, hand slipping from between his cheek and Jeongguk’s chest to drop over the seam of his black sweatpants. Through a flaccid state, he gathers courage to grab him, squeezing to assess the girth.
Underneath the firmness of his palm, Jeongguk stills, frozen in place, chest stiff.
“Kinda wanted to suck your cock instead. What do you think about that?”
No stranger to initiating blowjobs, Taehyung’s acquired plentiful experience and knowledge as to what’s good, what’s not good, and what’ll really have Jeongguk’s eyes rolling to the back of his skull. He has a knack for certain activities, and sucking dick has gained favoritism on the list.
There’s something enjoyable about it—the heady taste, the thickness infiltrating the space of his mouth, the explicitness of what they do. Something enjoyable in sucking Jeongguk off for the reason that it’s Jeongguk, the man who drills him into the headboard, leaving the prettiest bruises on his skin the next morning while also taking the role of his ‘best friend.’
Truth be told, Taehyung wouldn’t want it with anyone else.
“Oh, fuck,” it slips from Jeongguk, a low-octave sort of sound that rumbles, provoking the curl of Taehyung’s toes in anticipation of what’s to come. Realistically, he’s not hard (not yet), but Taehyung can tell it won’t be long until he’s bulging in his pants and in his cheeks, creaming on his tongue. “Yeah, you wanna suck me off, hyung?”
The nod which follows is repetitive and replete with enthusiasm. “Uh-huh, wanna warm you with my mouth,” he says, sultry and in an equally low timbre, thumb brushing over what seems to be the tip of his cock. “Movie’s boring, and I’m far more invested in swallowing you whole.”
“So…” from the low angle he’s in, he can see Jeongguk’s nostrils flare and adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Gotta get me hard if we wanna take it there.”
Easy. It’s firsthand to him; natural in the manner in which Taehyung organizes himself into a seated position, leg tucked under his ass as he collects Jeongguk’s chin, guiding their lips together.
While it’s their second kiss of the night, this one exemplifies filth with how eager they are to open up, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths. There’s no coyness or previous feeling of butterflies erupting, it’s messy, dirty, wet mouths smacking as they explore without restriction.
It’s breathing openly into each other, Taehyung coming close to knocking Jeongguk into the wall until Jeongguk initiates the movement before he can. Initiates by grabbing him by the hips, effortlessly substituting his place on the mattress onto the cushion of his thighs instead.
“You’re gonna sit here, baby,” Jeongguk instructs, mouth roaming to the corner of Taehyung’s cheek and to his jaw as he licks a strip of heated skin. The action has him moaning toward the ceiling, hands anchoring Jeongguk’s shoulders as he tilts a bit. “Keep kissing me, then play with my cock some.”
(If they weren’t so focused on the situation, they would’ve laughed at the lack of attention on the film. Something good’s going on, given the shrill scream.)
The whole ordeal was to prioritize Jeongguk - to make him feel good. There was no doubt or ulterior motive as to why he wanted to suck him off aside from a stupendous orgasm. Yet, Jeongguk reciprocates—wants him to experience the heat and pleasure, the buildup of growing hard, as well as sweet release.
When their kiss reaches even messier heights, it’s the incentive which controls the movement of his hand. Taehyung teeters his ass back a little and slips under the waistband of both Jeongguk’s sweats and boxers, moaning at the significant heat there. In the meantime, to get him going, he focuses on the weakest point of Jeongguk’s neck with kisses and suckles before he engulfs him, and oh—
“Shit,” Jeongguk flinches from the immediate contact, presumably due to their difference in temperature. “Shit, hyung.”
“You’re gonna fuck my throat tonight,” Taehyung says, “It’s what I want, okay? You can use me.”
“The fuck, you wanna be my fleshlight?” Jeongguk spits half-teasingly, grinning when Taehyung smiles in response. It cuts off into a groan when Taehyung moves, the roughness of his palm making him tense. “We need lube.”
“I’ve gotta buy some.”
“Lotion?”
Lotion would be a good substitution, though Taehyung finds a better option.
He withdraws his hand, creates a cup under his mouth.
“What are you—”
A glob of spit is shot at the center, and Taehyung’s attention darts between the puddle to Jeongguk who looks like he’d witnessed the hottest sight to behold.
“What?” he giggles, and it’s the hands grappling for his ass which increases the sound of delight. “Are you horny for me spitting?”
“I’ve seen you do so many sexy things, but spitting into your hand so you can give me a handjob?” Jeongguk smacks his clothed ass, “I’ve never wanted to fuck you this bad.”
“Patience is a virtue, doll.”
Spit is what was needed. It pools in the same spot until Taehyung retracts the waistband from his abdomen again, and wraps around his length with supplemental ease.
“‘S that good?” he slopes to suck a hickey into Jeongguk’s neck, stroking with a fist to harden him. “Hyung’s being good to you?”
“So fuckin’ good.”
“And are you gonna give it to me good tonight?” an interesting lilt borders the question. “Gonna fuck my throat until all I know is the taste of your cock?”
“Mh, gonna make you choke, sweet thing.”
Salacious describes the conversation, inhibited and raw as they vocalize their thoughts. Although there’s nothing wrong with keeping quiet during sexual acts, they’re very much into it. It amplifies the atmosphere, the surge of heat licking across their stomachs like an undying fire.
Taehyung could listen to it all day. Could get off on Jeongguk’s vocalization and the gorgeous sounds made. Not only does he perform exceptionally at ordinary tasks and can do anything he puts his mind to, he’s the perfect talker who’ll get him hard within seconds.
“Good,” he murmurs, licking over the cute mole on the side of his neck and biting down to leave an indentation. He soothes the mark with his tongue right after, satisfied with the spot blooming pink.
“Good, yeah?” Jeongguk says through a grunt, “I’ll leave your mouth sloppy and bruised.”
“Do it,” Taehyung goads, “Fucking do it, Jeongguk-ah. Prove to me you’re not all talk.”
Frankly, it’s the provocation that leads him to getting shoved onto his knees, below Jeongguk who raises his hips in order to shimmy out of the pair of pants. They bunch at his shins, allow him freedom as he folds his underwear to nestle beneath his balls. And fuck, what a pretty cock he has.
Still somewhat soft, Jeongguk rests against his thigh but what drives Taehyung wild - over the fucking edge - is knowing he’s got him somewhere. Knowing that with their makeout and righteous teasing, he invigorated the twitch, the blood that steadily pulses to his groin.
Knowing he’s getting him hard?
A true honor.
“What?” says Jeongguk, and the harshness of it extracts Taehyung from the daze he was in. “You wanna keep staring, so I can jerk off and cum on your face?”
As it just so happens, Taehyung’s aroused by the idea. He’s not greedy or selfish; he’ll take what he gets and down it contentedly. If it’s to blow Jeongguk or receive a facial, he’s eager for both.
Call it slutty and he’ll deem himself ‘opportunistic.’
He sits on his heels. Nudges the frame of his glasses up his nose. “I said to fuck my throat, didn’t I?”
Between them, there’s a constant push-and-pull tension. A magnet which attracts them, a tension so undeniable, it’s led them to a point where Taehyung’s at the verge of getting face-fucked. It’s wild to reflect on—to even conceive the conditions they’ve found themselves under, and he’s in love with it.
Given Jeongguk’s expression and how it enlivens, it’s safe to say they’re on the same page.
They’re fuck-buddies—nothing stemmed farther than getting off with each other because their sexual chemistry could ignite a dark room—but it’s escalated. Escalated with the words they elicit, with the manners in which they act.
He barely hears the actor make a run for it in the forest when Jeongguk relieves himself with a single stroke, and points the tip at him. “Suck.”
Fortunately, Taehyung has always done a good job at listening and doesn’t require further instruction because within a heartbeat, he surges in. Tucks the inner corner of his hand underneath the shaft, sucking him into his mouth.
“That’s it,” Jeongguk croons as he watches, and brushes the fringe that falls over Taehyung’s eyes due to the maneuver. “That’s it, hyung. Look so pretty like this.”
A hum comes out at that, and all Taehyung concentrates on is getting Jeongguk to stiffen against his abdomen, precum beaded at the slit. Purposefully, he licks, strokes, squishes his thighs together when moans are elicited, and when he confirms a gradual erection in his mouth.
And when fully hard, that’s where the fun begins.
A pretty flush blossoms on the skin of Jeongguk’s cock when completely erect; mimics the pink color of his lips in which Taehyung loves to feel on his own, or on any part of his body. The two surfaces match well, and to be totally sincere, it’s impossible not to gawk. Taehyung may still hold him, still jerk him off (albeit slow strokes) but goodness, can he be blamed for it?
His dick is too pretty.
“Looks like you’re gonna drool,” Jeongguk comments on Taehyung’s leisure movements and an inability to keep up. With the opposite hand, he decreases the volume on the television. Says, “I want to hear your every sound. I want to hear you choke.”
At the confession, Taehyung grows a little needier with eyes shimmering like the night sky. He’s weak by it. By him.
“You want to suck my dick, hyung?” Jeongguk poses in a cooing tone.
Vehement, Taehyung nods. Tries to issue a composed appearance.
“How badly?”
“So bad,” comes a disgruntled reply, “So, so bad, fuck.”
“So bad, you’ll do what for it?” Jeongguk edges on. Such a damn tease he is; stroking himself in front of him as he distributes the mess of precum and spit to smoothen the glide. It sounds wet, sticky. “Would you cry for it? Beg for it?”
At the lack of an answer, he carries ahead.
“You know how much I love your crying face when you’re needy,” Jeongguk must envision it in his head. Has to squeeze his cock to stop from a premature orgasm. “You’re so pretty when you cry for my cock.”
“J-Jeongguk…”
“What?”
“Please.”
“Aw, c’mon—it’s fun to tease you.”
Merciful, he guides his dick towards Taehyung, inches away from stuffing him wide with a giant grin worn. And perhaps it’s because he’s so excited that Jeongguk indulges the teasing devil on his shoulder by smacking his cock against the center of Taehyung’s tongue a few times. Why he chuckles at the sound—a combination of precum and saliva generating the filthiest effects known to mankind.
(He’s a sucker for noises.)
With the hand that was around the remote, Jeongguk loosely cards his fingers through Taehyung’s set of brunette hair. Brushes the curve of his chin in a tender manner, thumbing under his lip.
A gulp. “Can I do it?”
“Go ahead,” he tells him, “You’ve earned it, hyung.”
The best news to acquire in a moment of unadulterated desperation, Taehyung doesn’t dawdle or tease for longer. Rather, he holds the latter’s cock, slaps the head against his tongue because he liked it a bit too much when Jeongguk did it, and welcomes the crown into the cavern of his mouth while concealing his teeth. Initially, there’s a tangy taste - salty from how wet Jeongguk became - along undertones of oatmeal body-wash. It tastes like skin, too. Clean skin.
It’s dirty to admit, but Taehyung loves to succumb to his knees, caught between Jeongguk’s legs. There have been instances where he considered the what-if’s of their compromising positions. What if their hyungs phoned them amidst Jeongguk’s cock breaching his mouth or asshole? Would Jeongguk show no care? Shove him down so he sputters, despite the call in session? He does have a bit of a mean streak.
Nonetheless, Taehyung shows perseverance as he isolates these unholy thoughts and swallows around the fat girth, cheeks hollow. He rewards himself with a shaky inhale before ultimately withdrawing seconds later, gagging as a line of saliva stretches from his lips to the slit of Jeongguk’s dick.
He bursts into a smile then and pumps him, fist loose.
“Good boy,” Jeongguk praises. “Get it nice and wet for me, hyung.”
At that, the gears crank in Taehyung’s brain, his cognition illuminated as he registers the praise used: ‘good boy.’ For sweet names like those, it automatically induces his heart rate, the normal paced pitter patter replaced by a loud, consistent booming which reverberates his eardrums. He’s dizzy, almost like if he’s laying upside down again, and he has some trouble trying to focus.
It’s the first time he’s unhesitant with what to do.
“What’s wrong?”
Taehyung licks his lips, hands shaky before he flashes a delightful grin - kind of fucked out in a sense. “You called me ‘good boy,’” he says, “I really liked that.”
“You do?”
“Mhm.”
It’s not like he’s dreaming any of this, so when Jeongguk’s eyes twinkle and warmth spreads across his face, it’s an indisputable incident. Taehyung couldn’t deny it.
Fondly, Jeongguk bites back a smile and scoops Taehyung’s hair together to mimic a bun. With nothing to obscure his face and all features being set on display, an unbelievable heat flourishes everywhere. From his cheeks to his ears, Taehyung’s tinted red, and he wishes his glasses were a bit bigger so as not to feel exposed.
Shy about it, he goes to move until Jeongguk’s grip tightens, locking him in place.
“You’re my good boy,” he announces beyond a moment of tranquility, and Taehyung hates the shudder of his body. “Look at you getting red. You’re embarrassed, baby?”
“N-No,” he bluffs with a purse of his lips, “No, not embarrassed.”
“No?” Jeongguk’s grip intensifies and it’d hurt if Taehyung hadn’t developed a penchant for pain. It stings the perfect amount; the twitch in his pants reminding him how much he likes it. He’s halfway to rutting against the air for some type of gratification. “Not embarrassed?”
Denial - he denies once more and Jeongguk’s motioning closer so he maintains eye-contact. The delivery is smooth and he tilts his head to patronize him.
It’s the hottest fucking thing.
“Please let me suck your cock,” the elder whines. “Jeongguk, please?”
Deciding to reveal a compassionate side, Jeongguk slaps the red tip of his dick on Taehyung’s cheek, leaving a streak of wetness, and slides past his lips. Buries himself deep, a hot, sharp gasp piercing the living room. “That’s it. Mouth feels so fuckin’ hot, Taehyung-hyung.”
He sinks deep enough to brush against Taehyung’s uvula, though not wanting to interrupt the moment, Taehyung resists gagging, eyes hooded as he blushes. Jeongguk slides out, angrily flushed crown peeking from the edge of his mouth, and then he slips back in with force.
At a remote distance, the television continues to roll with the dialogue distorted. Who would listen to it, anyway? Not Taehyung, not Jeongguk.
Vibrating deep, Jeongguk emits a groan which has Taehyung drawing forward, compressed to the hem of his t-shirt. The trimmed hairs of his groin tickle Taehyung’s upper lip slightly. “Look at how well you take my cock; my wet dream come to reality, fuck.”
Harder than he’s ever been, Taehyung closes his thighs to relieve pressure before he fosters a bobbing motion. Pulls back, sinks in, pulls back, sinks in. On his tongue, Jeongguk tastes salty, weighs heavy, and as a result of his persistent movements, the thick-framed glasses droop on the bridge of his nose.
Though what they’re participating in is insanely filthy, an act of kindness manifests when Jeongguk nudges the frame up for him with a knuckle.
“Cute,” he chuckles, and Taehyung relaxes as much as possible to take him all the way in. He grabs onto Jeongguk’s knees, digs the tips of his fingers in, jaw unhinged with the room around them appearing hazy. “Your eyes look so pretty behind your glasses, hyung.”
And shit, Taehyung tries so hard to formulate words, but they pass off as gargles and he’s a little humiliated. Can’t talk with a fucking cock obliterating his throat.
“What do you think I should do?”
Now, moving is what he can manage, so he peers upwards, through the lengths of his lashes.
“I’ll cum soon, so I want to know where you want it. In your mouth? On your face?”
In order to reply where he’d like it, Taehyung pulls off and shivers at the distinct pop. A string of saliva stretches and he laps it up, resuming jerking Jeongguk off. “On my…” he wipes what trickles from the corner of his mouth and suckles on the tips of his finger. Savors the consistency and taste. “On my face. Want you to cum on my face. Fuck my mouth, will you?”
“S-Shit.”
The elder returns to his place, gagging when Jeongguk utilizes the grip he’s got on his hair and gyrates his hips, essentially fucking into his tight throat. The pleasure isn’t focused on Taehyung, but he’s hard and wet, sliding on the hardwood floors, sitting on the mounds of his heels.
“Fuck, hyung. Fuck. Wish I could have you like this all day.”
Huh. Wouldn’t be bad at all to spend an entire day in their predicament.
Jeongguk reclines into the wall behind him, head drawn backwards and facing the ceiling while he shoves Taehyung up and down on his cock. The tattoos on his right forearm peek from beneath the sleeve of his shirt, and for a second, Taehyung envisions it wrapped around him. He grows messier, plays with his balls to increase the pleasure.
Then, Jeongguk looks at him.
“Oh, hyung, you’re crying.”
Taehyung doesn’t realize until the comment is made and there’s a tickle in his eye. A teardrop falls and he nods as best as he can.
“Feel good to get your throat fucked, hm?”
Inexplicably good.
“You’re just so fucking pretty.” He thrusts deeper and Taehyung chokes - which is what he wanted from the start. “I’m—I’m about to cum. Do you want me to remove your glasses?”
With a dismissive gesture, Taehyung retracts in time to replace his cock with a hand. Fists once, twice and Jeongguk arches, pleasure coiled in his abdomen as his balls twitch. Observing in fascination, Taehyung sighs when streaks of cum splatter on the lens and all he can see is a panel of white.
For good measure, he laps at the slit and laughs when Jeongguk vibrates.
“Hyung, hyung…”
“Hm? What’s the matter?”
“Please let me make you cum.”
“You wanna make me cum?” he iterates, but there’s no point in needing to say anything else because Taehyung’s already rising to his feet, perching himself on Jeongguk’s lap. His spent cock presses against his ass, and he can feel the moisture seep through the material. “How do you want to do it?”
Generously, Jeongguk takes his glasses and puts them somewhere to the side. “Face the opposite direction and let me jerk you off.”
And it’s what he does. Taehyung rotates, spreads his legs, and Jeongguk snakes beneath the band of his pants. The moment he’s on him, there’s a moan of relief. Now, he wouldn’t consider himself to be the biggest in size, though there are intervals (such as this one) where with a hand as huge as Jeongguk’s doesn’t fit the circumference of his cock, he’s struck with realization. There’s a noticeable gap where those tattooed fingers don’t meet, which causes Taehyung to blush like mad.
“Big boy,” Jeongguk whispers, sloppily pumping him, and Taehyung’s at a point where he could explode from words alone. He’s wrapped in heat, wants to be loud but the people on either side of their dorms would fucking despise them. “Fat cock, Taehyung-hyung. So big, I can barely fit around you.”
“Please...”
“I want you to cum.”
“Please, please, please.”
“Cum for me, hyung. Gonna feel amazing.”
With the latter’s whispers, the tightness around him and sweet affirmations being spoken, all factors provoke Taehyung’s orgasm. He cries out, spills in Jeongguk’s fist with shaky thighs threatening to give up on him.
“That’s it,” Jeongguk coaxes, “Good boy. So much cum.”
The aftermath is usually them cleaning up and shifting to their normal routine whereas tonight warrants a sudden neediness. A sudden desire to be held, a sudden desire to stay on his lap and spend a moment together. They could watch the movie for a few, Taehyung just—
He wants to stay.
So when Jeongguk taps him to get up, Taehyung grabs his hand, interlocks their sticky fingers with a pout. “No.”
“What?”
“I need you to hold me close right now.”
Craning his neck so they can look at each other, Jeongguk kisses the tip of his nose and a sweet feeling spreads in Taehyung’s chest. What Jimin said resonates with him louder than ever, and he squeezes Jeongguk’s hand. Tickles his palm with the tip of a nail. “Feeling needy, hyung?”
“A bit,” he says, not too embarrassed about it. There’s no energy left to feel judged or ashamed for the vulnerability displayed; it’s okay to be like this. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I do,” Jeongguk confesses, and the blush he sports can attest to the statement. He looks so cute and Taehyung fights the urge to coo and kiss him. “I feel disgusting with all this cum and sweat but I don’t mind holding you, hyung. You’re warm and cuddly.”
Can’t believe you’d deny to me the crush you have on Jeongguk…
Is this what it is?
A crush?
Is he ready to stop denying what was there? The truth he’d tried to put aside for the sake of their rules?
When he spirals in his thoughts, a question comes to him:
“You okay?”
“I’m okay, yeah. You’re cute, Jeongguk-ah.”
“You’re cuter.”
Later when they’ve cleaned up and spoon in bed, Taehyung hugs Jeongguk tighter, savors his warmth and treasures the affection while the fan circulates. In the end, he goes to sleep with a massive smile and heart beating to the tune of his feelings.
He likes him. Really, really likes him.
Jimin was right.
►
With bated breath, Taehyung’s fingers dance along the phone’s keyboard.
SOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑
Within fifteen seconds, a response comes to.
jimin 💋
WHERE ARE YOU?
WEST CAMPUS PARKING LOT!!!! WEARING BLUE BERET, YOU CAN’T MISS ME!!!!!!!!!!!
Ten seconds.
jimin 💋
ON MY FUCKING WAY
STAY PUT
HURRY 😢😢😢
Seated by himself on a bench, Taehyung locks the phone and hunches over his satchel whilst awaiting. There’s some news he’s withheld from Jimin, and it’s crucial to inform him.
Because if not now, when? Never? He can’t muster the courage gathered today any other day, so he must establish it before his confidence dims out.
From afar, a distinct thud of shoes pummel on the concrete sidewalk and he doesn’t have to check to see if it’s Jimin because Jimin’s shouting aloud, “Tae, Tae, I’m here! What the hell’s going on?!”
When he’s close by and stops to catch a breath, staring worryingly at Taehyung, Taehyung grins, fingers clutching the handle of the bag.
“Guess what?”
“What?!” Jimin heaves with a layer of sweat glistening on his forehead. “What the fuck is happening? You said, ‘SOS’ and I’m really not seeing the emergency! Are you injured?”
“There’s an arrow.”
Jimin’s eyes immediately bulge out, and he’s grasping onto Taehyung’s forearm, moving him to find a wound and said-arrow. “What? What the fuck? What arrow? Where? Where did you get hit? Who the fuck shot an arrow on campus?!”
“Jeongguk…” Taehyung swallows, “...through my heart.”
There’s a pause and Jimin stops from inhaling before sending the nastiest glare. He relinquishes the grip formed on his arm, straightens his posture and laughs incredulously to the sky. “Did you text me SOS, made me jump over Hoseok who was in the middle of writing a sentimental letter to an old friend - to which I accidentally caused him to mess up - and made me wear mismatched socks just to tell me what I already knew? That you’re fucking in love with Jeon Jeongguk?”
“...Surprise?”
A hand snaps around Taehyung’s wrist, yanking him so Jimin can kick his ass. Only for ‘kicking ass’ to end up with both of them giggling as they wrestle with each other, a playful chain of events when they’ve been close for a while.
Friendships may come and go whereas a bond like theirs stays intact forever.
(A world without Jimin would be futile. Worthless.)
“Jimin-ah!” wheezes Taehyung through prodding fingers, “Jimin-ah, I’m sorry! I said I’m sorry!”
“Mismatched socks, Tae!” Jimin repeats, “One orange and one yellow!”
“S-So?! It’s not like anybody’s gonna pull your shoes off to see what color they are!”
Jimin targets his neck suddenly, tickling and dropping Taehyung against the bench as he thrashes about. If there were other students, they’d flash the most disturbed stares, though luckily it’s just them.
“You were so dramatic!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Taehyung’s eyelids threaten to shut, the sensation riding through him as Jimin pokes more sensitive spots: neck, ribs, under his armpits. The beret he has on threatens to fall off on the grass. “Jimin-ah, I-I surrender! I’m so very sorry. P-Please find it in yourself to forgive me!”
“What? What did you say?!”
“Please forgive me!”
As quick as he was to torture him, Jimin lifts both arms to show that he’s done and fuck, does it feel great to breathe.
When they calm themselves, that’s when all attention averts to the original topic and at first, it’s very fucking awkward. Taehyung rejected the chance of them becoming a “couple” (frequently swore of it when they had sex at the start of the year), so it feels like pure hypocrisy when he says the truth.
Be that as it may, the thing Taehyung figures out as he tells Jimin who hums to let him know he’s focused? It couldn’t be hypocrisy when those feelings were already there, thoroughly developed and ceaseless with his heart.
To save himself from the despair and anguish of a potential loss in friendship, he’d suppressed everything. Suppressed all emotions, passed the butterflies for something else that never made enough sense to him, passed the sparks he felt whenever they touched hands as nothing more than ‘static currents.’ Promised to himself the only reason he smiled when Jeongguk smiled was because he liked to see his best friend happy, when really: Jeongguk reminds him of the sun.
He lied to himself, lied to others, lied to Jeongguk.
And while it seems he’d get sad over it, Taehyung feels joy.
“I really like him,” he discloses. “I really, truly like Jeongguk and I’ve been an idiot to deny it.”
“What you felt…” Jimin hums, “...was there all along, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“So, in the car when we were on our way to Seojoon’s, you were actually—”
“Jealous,” Taehyung finishes for him. “Yes, I was jealous. I was jealous because I don’t want Jeongguk to be with anybody else, but then again, we were the ones to create these rules. We weren’t supposed to fall in love, we weren’t supposed to get in over our heads. I fucked up with the fake-dating bit, I will confess.”
“Taehyungie…”
“No, I’m not sad,” he clarifies, because that’s not it, “I promise.”
“You’re not?” mumbles Jimin.
“I’m not,” Taehyung says. “Jimin-ah, slap me if I’m too far up my own ass but… Jeongguk seems to like me, doesn’t he?”
A pat to the thigh. “Sincerely?”
“Yes, please.”
“I believe he does,” Jimin rasps and as silly as it may be, Taehyung has to restrain from squealing because if another person said so, then surely it must be true. Surely there’s a pattern.
Taehyung’s oblivious for certain circumstances, but Jeongguk’s very telling in what he does. How he acts. How he moves.
“Even if it’s plausible…” he huffs, leg thrown over Jimin’s, “...It won’t change what we have. If he does happen to like me, there’s a possibility Jeongguk doesn’t favor the commitment aspect. It’s nerve-wracking, I suppose, to imagine. Like if I confess to him and he tells me he likes me back but that unfortunately he doesn’t want to date, what then?”
“You’d move forward,” Jimin declares. “You’d move forward with your life because you’ve still got a beautiful friendship, a beautiful bond that’s never been interfered with.”
Taehyung remains quiet.
“What? It won’t be the same for you, babe?”
“No,” he quietly murmurs. Spots a ladybug crawling on the floor. “I’ve denied my crush for way too long and when we were—when we shared an intimate moment the other night, it’s the only thought I centered myself on. I wouldn’t want him to walk on eggshells for me or around me, though.”
“But you like him?”
Yes. Very much so.
It’s consumed him since.
“I do, and it’s a lot. It’s a big crush.”
“Do you plan on confronting him about it?”
In an idealistic, alternate universe where Taehyung confesses, they work out. In their universe, however, with all the nuances occurring on a day-to-day basis, it could be impractical. That’s how life works.
Not everyone gets what they want.
“Not sure.”
“Weigh on it for a while, yeah? It’d alleviate the burden you might feel.”
“Yeah, probably.”
He fiddles with the handle of his bag and Jimin relaxes next to him. “Still can’t believe you texted me an SOS for this. I was so fucking ready to kick ass.”
Endeared by his friend’s antics, Taehyung pulls Jimin for a hug, though not without poking fun at him first. “You wore mismatched socks for me, how precious!”
In an instant, they’re battling it out on the bench and Taehyung ultimately has Jimin wailing for sympathy when he tickles him. He attacks his ribs, joyful with how happy Jimin looks, but then, a phone rings a familiar tune and he flinches because speak of the devil.
“Hurry!” hisses Jimin as Taehyung scuffles for the device. “It’s Jeongguk, answer it!”
“I’m aware. I picked the ringtone for him!” Taehyung hisses back, fingertips sweaty and palms clammy. “Quiet, quiet, oh my god, okay—I’m fucking nervous.”
“Be cool, okay?”
“We were not talking about him.”
“Exactly, we weren’t…”
With a puff of air, Taehyung slides the toggle and puts the phone against his ear. “Hello?”
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jeongguk.”
“Hey, baby.”
Taehyung fucks up when he simultaneously inhales and swallows, sputtering on the line.
“Woah, are you okay?”
“F-Fine! I’m—I’m fine!”
Way to lose composure. So not embarrassing.
“Okay, good. Are you busy?”
“Busy?” Taehyung says, to which Jimin wags his index finger. “N-No...?”
“Ah, perfect. So uh, I’m in the dorm and I got off the phone with my mom, and I have to, uh- talk to you.”
“Oh.”
The unknowing of what that conversation will be like transmits the ickiest ripple to ride within him. Is it good? Bad?
Almost as if he can read Taehyung’s contemplations and worries, Jeongguk promises, “Hyung, it’s nothing bad. Uh, did you have lunch? You crept out before my alarm went off and so—” there’s some strain in Jeongguk’s voice, and an abrupt thud. “Sorry, I was putting on my shoes. Would you like to go somewhere to eat? It’s on me.”
“Somewhere to eat?” Taehyung motions to Jimin and Jimin encourages the request with a persistent nod. “Okay, I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Why not? I get free lunch and a cute boy to sit with me.”
“Hyung, you can’t just—” Jeongguk laughs airily, sounding flustered, “Okay, where are you now?”
“The west campus parking lot.”
“By yourself?”
Jimin shuffles; Taehyung lies. “Yeah.”
“I’ll meet you and we can go to my car from there. See you?”
“Yeah, see you.”
When they end the call, Jimin rises to his feet and pats Taehyung on the head. “As much as I’d prefer to kick your ass for what you did, I’ll see my way to the dorm. Have fun, don’t get too nervous. Remember, it’s Jeongguk…”
Taehyung exhales. “Just Jeongguk…”
“...who you like.”
Laughing in the direction in which he came from, Jimin causes a drop of sweat to surface on Taehyung’s temple when he drops the heavy load.
They’re going to be together. They’re going to have lunch after this entire epiphany and they’ll be the only two sat at a table. They’re going to be with each other for however long, shit.
Feelings are complicated, and so are the repercussions of crushing on a person.
What sucks most of all is that Taehyung can’t relax and calm his nerves because donning a loose, black sweatshirt, olive cargo pants and a pair of chunky sneakers, Jeongguk closes in from the corner of the building. His long hair curls around his ears and he’s got the cutest, dazzling smile when he perceives him by the bushes.
It’s as if cupid shot the arrow at full-speed and force with how Taehyung feels on the inside.
The minute Jeongguk is in his space, he tilts him by the chin and plants the softest kiss on his lips. There’s a new flavor of chapstick: strawberry. “Hey,” he says and scans him, “I like your outfit. Such a cute beret.”
It’s an ordinary compliment, yet Taehyung figuratively melts. “You don’t look so bad yourself, mister,” he reciprocates the kindness and gestures to what he wears. “Your shoes are nice.”
Jeongguk bends his leg a bit to pose. “Thanks. I’m referring to them as my sexy cockstompers.”
Immediately, the previous anxiety which had crept in crumbles, and Taehyung can’t find it in himself to worry anymore. He’s too busy snorting, deeming Jeongguk ‘idiotic’ as he repeats the term ‘cockstompers’ because of how ridiculous it is.
Overall, it’s one of many facets to love and adore about him: Jeongguk’s unabashed personality and how once he’s open with people, he doesn’t hold back with the jokes or what floods through his mind.
If he’s comfortable, he’ll show it.
Taehyung’s grateful it didn’t take a lot of time for the humor to roll in when they met.
“Seriously, cockstompers? Whose cock are you stomping on?”
“Yours?” Jeongguk wiggles his brows and Taehyung shoves him as they progress to the car. “I mean, if you’re into it!”
“Let me step on your cock to see how you’ll like it.”
“...Fuck, I might.”
When they’re in the vehicle, Taehyung has no clue what specific spot they’re headed. Jeongguk, on the contrary, efficiently knows the routes without requiring a GPS—of course, stopping at lights and turning when he deems necessary—and they drive for an approximate fifteen minutes. It’s during the final stoplight when Taehyung finally recognizes the area.
The place they’re going to isn’t far from campus at all. It’s a local place, one of which many SKU students go to when they’d like to catch a quick bite. They’ve been here with friends (Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok, Seokjin.) The best part is the affordable pricing for their delicious food.
Once Jeongguk detects an empty lot space and parks the car, shutting the ignition, Taehyung presses the button of his seatbelt and collects his belongings. “You said you’re paying, right?”
Jeongguk taps his chest, appearing smug. Apparently he likes to pay for people. Says it brings him delight. “Yeah, hyung. Everything’s on me.”
Inside of the establishment, they sit at a booth at the far left; discreet and away from other guests, but not to where their waiter can’t seek them. They peruse their menus for a while - at which point a young woman comes over with a smile.
“Hello,” she greets while flicking open her notepad. “I’m Jieun. How may I help you?”
They warmly greet her in return and share what they’d like. Scribbling their orders, she then assures to bring them their drinks prior to slipping away into the back room.
“How’d you sleep?” interrupts Jeongguk, closing his menu and sliding it across the surface.
“Well,” says Taehyung as he closes his own menu and stacks them into a neat, aligned pile. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept fine,” Jeongguk assures, “Hyung, we really don’t need that second bed. We’ve been sleeping on the same mattress for a year now.”
“On my mattress,” Taehyung argues with a faint flush because of the implications. It’s true; they haven’t slept separately and it seems they don’t plan on it either. Every night and every morning, they go to sleep and wake up in the other person’s arms. Jeongguk’s mattress hasn’t gotten a single dent in it, nor do the sheets require fixing. “It’s mine. I claimed it.”
Jeongguk snickers, “Ours.”
“No, mine.”
“Ours.”
“Mine.”
“Ours.”
Hindering their debate is Jieun as she approaches the table with a tray holding their drinks. She distributes the cups and hands out two straws. “And I’ll be right back with your meals,” she declares.
“Thank you,” they reply in unison.
Peeling the end of the disposal paper with his teeth, Taehyung sets the straw into the cup to sip on some soda. Sucks his tongue to savor the taste. “So - what did you want to discuss?” he gestures to the elephant in the room, so blunt with it.
In amusement, Jeongguk chuckles under his breath as he dips a straw into his cup and swirls the ice cubes to cool the beverage faster. “Already getting to it, huh? Can I not admire you for a sec before we get to business?”
“You brought me here to chat, not to admire my beauty,” chastises Taehyung with a rapid bat of his lashes. He does it to be funny, but there’s no mistaking how Jeongguk appears to be in awe of him.
This has to contribute to what Jimin mentioned earlier.
“You’re so pretty, hyung.”
If Taehyung wasn’t already flustered, he would’ve spontaneously combusted then. What kind of fuck-buddy says romantic things like that?
“Yeah?” he manages in a soft-spoken tone, teeth nipping the straw, and maybe it’s because he’s nervous that he pierces through the plastic a bit. “I’m pretty?”
“So pretty,” Jeongguk tucks a hand under his chin, sighing in admiration. “I really do love your beret. You look cute.”
“‘M not cute,” intervenes Taehyung with a scrunch, “Thought you said I’m pretty.”
“You are. You’re pretty and cute.”
In no mood to humiliate himself, he coughs and drums his fingers on the table to diffuse the tension. “Anyway, so—your mom?”
“Right,” Jeongguk says. “Okay, so, my parents loved you this weekend - which hey, no surprise. You knew it since they met you and thanked you for helping guide me on the proper path when we graduated.”
In high school, Taehyung really contributed to a lot of wonderful memories and he also helped Jeongguk stay on track. Not to say he was a bad kid, just that if he hadn’t had Taehyung or their hyungs with him, he could’ve been led into a horrid crowd.
They’ve all kept him safe and sound.
He nods. “And I love them. They’re my second favorite pair of parents.”
“They loved the bottle you got them, too.”
What a massive relief. “Really? I mean, when we were there, they drank some but it’s always good to receive confirmation.”
They fall into a quiet space until Jeongguk sucks in a breath, bottom lip curled as he contemplates.
“—Would you be willing to fake-date me again?”
When Taehyung’s too shocked to articulate himself, Jeongguk explains the situation further.
“For context, she told me about a charity event her co-workers are doing and she said it’d be great if we came to support them. I know two of the people because my parents often took me to company dinners when I was younger. Plus, she misses us.”
Still, Taehyung’s incapable of rousing an answer for the next few seconds until something manages to transpire from his mouth.
“And you seriously want to do this?”
“It would be a nice gesture,” Jeongguk reasons as he takes a lengthy sip. “Not just to my mom, but those co-workers.. It’s not going to be super sophisticated, posh adults either, because one of their son’s is joining to assist them with organizing. He’s near our age and graduated from uni.”
It’s not like Taehyung doesn’t want to help (because he’ll be there when necessary), but another fake dating bit? Specifically when he’s grasped onto the severity of his feelings?
Onto the crush harbored for Jeongguk?
“Okay,” he decides anyway, pausing his deliberation, ignoring potential problems which could arise. Fuck it. “Okay, we’ll do it.”
“What?” Jeongguk sounds excited, voice pitched and he’s settling down so as not to disturb the other guests. “For real?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
A kiss is pressed onto the tip of Taehyung’s nose and he bites his lip to not smile so hard. “We’ll dress casually then. I’ve got my outfit planned, and I’m gonna get a haircut.”
“A haircut?” instinctively Taehyung stretches an arm to play with a loose strand of Jeongguk’s hair. “Why?”
“Figured I could use a change. It’s getting in the way a lot, too.”
“It’s sexy,” the elder says and sips on more soda. “Gives me a good grip in bed.”
The corner of Jeongguk’s mouth twitches. “Wow. You’ve got no shame, hyung.”
“None whatsoever.”
►
The event isn’t too drastic or over-the-top; they find out it’s a fundraiser to help keep a pet shop open. There’s a bake sale on one side of the vicinity, a mini auction on the other, though they all contribute to the same cause. Thankfully, a lot of people care because exchanges are made publicly.
It’s nice to see.
(Almost as nice as the muffin Taehyung purchased from an elderly couple.)
Hand-in-hand, he and Jeongguk walk together, and they’re approaching the food bar where Jeongguk’s mom and dad stay at.
They’re in the middle of taking a snack when the two boys gather their attention.
“Oh, my baby!” Sooyeon welcomes Jeongguk with a kiss on the forehead and a tight hug. When she’s done, she flicks at his shirt’s collar with a gasp. “Look at how handsome. You cut your hair, too?!”
“I did,” says Jeongguk, and he’s in the process of removing his brown, hexagonal shaped shades, then tucks its legs into his white and yellow pattern shirt. At the right time and angle, the sun beams its brightest, casting a stark light which pronounces the definition of his jawline and Taehyung’s arms cross because okay, fuck, he looks really fucking good. He’s always loved his longer length of hair, though there’s a specific charm to the swoop over his forehead and sides shaved neatly. “I cut my hair to get all pretty for today.”
It’s not a lie— Jeongguk did mention he’d do it, but there wasn’t a need for him to change to ‘get pretty.’ He’s never not pretty.
Taehyung’s enveloped in hugs, too, and soon afterward, they’re intermingled in conversation.
“How was your trip back to the dorms?” Jaehyuk mentions, “Not too troublesome, I hope?”
“No,” denies Taehyung. “No trouble at all. I took my glasses with me to see better at night.”
“Oh, right!” Sooyeon adjusts her purse. “Taehyungie wears glasses!”
“He does,” Jeongguk swoops in with a lighthearted voice. “Not all the time, just when he’s reading or driving at night where the roads are dark and barely illuminated.”
With somebody who’s been there since they were teenagers (and as somebody who literally sleeps in the dorm with him), it’d be weird if Jeongguk didn’t know this piece of information. Still, as he talks about it, it sets off a spark that has Taehyung pulling Jeongguk in close and tilting his head to rest against him with a small smile. “Jeongguk’s right,” he clarifies. “I don’t wear them constantly, only when I’m reading and driving.”
“Ah okay.”
The four of them talk for a while and they touch upon the past- how life has treated each individual. Taehyung and Jeongguk tell them they’re enjoying their mini break to the fullest and explain the utter frustration accumulated within the weeks leading towards their exams. As for Sooyeon and Jaehyuk, they’ve done well and what serves as news for them is that Sooyeon received a promotion at her job a day or two after their visit.
It’s nice to catch up with those who used to be around.
(It’s nice that Jeongguk’s parents are happy and flourishing with success in general.)
“What?” says Jeongguk when she admits to it. “Congrats, mom! Why didn’t you tell me on the phone?! That’s awesome!”
“It is!” Taehyung insists. “You got promoted! I’m happy for you!”
“Thank you, my sweethearts,” Sooyeon replies. “Thank you for being excited. Your father’s going to take me to a nice, romantic dinner.” Following her words, she strokes Jaehyuk’s chest and Jaehyuk ensures those are definite plans.
“A nice, romantic and celebratory dinner,” Jaehyuk smooches the top of her head. “I’m a very proud husband.”
There’s something warm about the sight of them. Perhaps it’s got to do with their gestures or sweet mannerisms in how they speak to each other, or the notion that they don’t need to do anything physical for their love to be obvious. The endearment between the couple is both audible and visible.
Taehyung wants that, too. With Jeongguk.
(Someday…)
At some point in the conversation, Sooyeon and Jaehyuk are dragged away by a group of co-workers, and they’re left alone again.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
Being out of the dorms is guaranteed to be a good time and it’s not like Taehyung had anything else to preoccupy him. There’s people, food, a warm ambiance and Jeongguk.
So long as Jeongguk’s with him, Taehyung’s bound to experience some fun.
“I am,” he says.
“Really?” Jeongguk startles. “You’re not bored? I know I kind of like—well, I kind of dragged you with me and I don’t want you to hate me for it,” he mumbles. “I totally get it if you wish to go. I’d drive you back, hyung, if it’s what you want.”
“No, no!” Taehyung rushes to say, trying to stop potential guilt from settling in. “No, I promise we’re good here.”
“Positive?”
“Positive.”
They lapse into silence with the slightest bit of awkwardness hovering them. Despite Jeongguk not mentioning it, it’s evident he’s guilty for bringing Taehyung to an event where they don’t necessarily ‘fit in.’ In actuality, there are a bunch of older people, and not once have they spotted a person who looked to be their age. Someone who they could talk to and possibly share interests with.
It’s really not a huge problem. It shouldn’t be, not when they won’t stay the entire afternoon.
Then, Jeongguk gazes upwards and spots something (someone) that makes his expression brighten up with excitement. “Oh, I think I spotted the son I told you about,” he announces, “Right over there.”
When jumbled up in a group of older adults, it doesn’t make it too difficult to find the person in question, but the second Taehyung makes out who it is, his heart drops.
Not too far from where they’re situated, Choi Minho, a flame Taehyung got particularly involved with two years prior, stands. Their fling was fleeting, therefore none of their friends suspected or knew anything about them. Not Jimin, not Namjoon, Hoseok, Seokjin, Yoongi—much less, Jeongguk (who doesn’t know him whatsoever.)
Taehyung can’t remember who introduced them, nor can he remember where precisely they met because all he concentrates on is the face, and the surrealness of such a fortuitous chance. They haven’t seen each other in so long but he could spot those familiar deep, brown eyes anywhere, which is why it’s so bizarre.
What does he do?
Since it’s been years and they’ve obstructed all channels of communication, should he even walk to him and greet a warm ‘hello’? Does he have a right to do that? Are they not at the very least ‘acquainted’ to?
From peripheral vision, Taehyung sees Jeongguk measure his expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I—” he swallows a gulp of air, “I know him.”
“The guy?” Jeongguk motions to Minho with a bob of the head, left brow shot up to his hairline. “From where? I’ve never met him.”
“Somewhere.”
“Somewhere…?” echoes Jeongguk in confusion, and Taehyung guides them behind random guests to prevent them from being detected. The air blows softly. “Hyung, do we have an issue I don’t know of?”
It feels inappropriate to indulge Jeongguk in the missing information, yet it’s not any of his concern. There’s a basis to it—a basis as to why Minho was never brought up to begin with, and why the past remains in the past. However, as he made a conscious decision to keep quiet before today, there shouldn’t be anything to stop him now.
Taehyung sighs. “Him and I used to fuck.”
‘Fuck.’ It’s what he and Jeongguk do.
(It sounds dirtier than expected.)
Staggered by the news, Jeongguk blinks repeatedly. “Oh, um…”
“This was so long ago; it means nothing to me anymore.”
“Right.”
“I mean it, Jeongguk.”
“Okay,” Jeongguk says, and he shrugs as if he’s acquired no care for the subject. “I don’t require an explanation, Taehyung-hyung. I’m not your boyfriend.” A bitter, sarcastic tone borders the remark, and it’s safe to say the elder catches onto it fast.
They may not be boyfriends, but Jeongguk’s bothered.
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Jeongguk—”
Jeongguk clears his throat: “Hyung, I’m not mad. I’ve got no reason to get upset.”
He doesn’t have any reason to since they aren’t dating, but a small, wishful part of Taehyung’s consciousness hopes it’s because of what he presumes. Hopes Jeongguk is bothered because he reciprocates the feelings and can’t fathom him with another.
(Albeit jealousy isn’t healthy, Taehyung wouldn’t mind it if the latter was.)
An idea occurs to him. “So - if you’re not bothered, would it be cool if I went to Minho to catch up with him?”
Taehyung assumes there’s a sudden glitch in reality with how fast Jeongguk freezes. “...Yes,” he proclaims. “You can go. You can chat with him.”
It’s childish—trying to ignite a reaction from somebody by doing things purposely. As a person who’s very self aware of himself, Taehyung almost winces at his shameless behavior, yet the further Jeongguk reacts, the further he’s tempted to continue. He can’t help it.
When the people who are with Minho flee the area, Taehyung offers a brief ‘see you’ to Jeongguk prior to descending the path led to him, and he’s nervously fidgeting with his hands. He stands behind him.
“Minho?” he calls out.
Upon Minho’s name being uttered, Minho spins and gapes, surprised by the encounter. “Taehyung?”
“Wow, so it is you!”
Despite Taehyung’s original intentions of riling Jeongguk, his reaction isn’t short of genuine when Minho recognizes him. It feels good not to be forgotten since the last occasion they interacted.
Between them in their old relationship, it just wasn’t salvageable. They grew distant; didn’t work out. And while for many people it can be a devastating experience - especially when it might seem like a good thing, a good chemistry to get mixed in - Taehyung’s not hung up over it or Minho.
Because after all, he’s got one Jeon Jeongguk.
Minho doesn’t hide his ogling. He was never a discreet person, so he’s not going to care for it now as he eyes Taehyung, scrutinizing every part of him. He’s got a smirk on, impressed by what’s presented. “Damn, you look fantastic.”
“I guess you don’t look so bad yourself,” comments Taehyung when he takes in Minho’s formal suit and tie, along with the sleek dress shoes on his feet. When they’d messed around, Minho was different. Not in a bad way (because not all ‘differents’ are bad), it’s just that his hair was never slicked and he never used to wear these suits. People change, he supposes.
“What brings you to the fundraiser today?” Minho tackles the question head on. “Not to sound like I’m disturbed by your presence, I just haven’t seen you in forever, Tae.”
The nickname falls from his tongue.
“I came with a friend,” Taehyung’s explanation comes. It might come across as exaggerated, yet he swears an eerie, burning sensation drills into the back of his head. He doesn’t have to check to know it’s him, Jeongguk, who’s watching. (It’s funny how he said it never bothered him when he’s so invested in their interaction.)
“A friend?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What friend?” Minho prods. “Where are they?”
“Jeon Jeongguk,” Taehyung doesn’t mind informing him, and then he’s peering in the direction, catching onto Jeongguk whose gaze has intensified— whose gaze lasers past the tinted lens of his Ray Bans (that he must’ve put on after Taehyung walked to Minho.) Jeongguk’s cheek bulges, an indication that he is pissed off, tongue nestled deep as he lingers at the table.
What a liar.
“Oh, my dad’s co-worker’s son,” Minho addresses and lifts the fancy glass cup he’s holding as a way to greet Jeongguk. The younger keeps staring, not once budging from his spot. What the hell? “He seems bored out of his mind.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“What is it?”
“Nothing...” Taehyung refuses to speak on the situation. “So, am I allowed to refer to you as ‘hyung’?”
Minho re-focuses on him with a bigger smirk. “When did I ever say you could stop? You came to me without the honorifics and I didn’t appreciate it. Not a single bit.”
“My apologies,” teases Taehyung with his tongue sticking out. “Minho-hyung...”
“Much better, Taehyung-ah. How have you been doing?”
They’re being friendly. Cordial.
“I’ve been fine, you?”
“I’m—” Minho trails off and he turns beet red, all confidence lost, “—sorry, your friend’s staring at us hard. Am I meddling between you two?”
When Taehyung checks, it’s true. It’s a piercing gaze and Jeongguk has crossed his arms, too.
“Don’t, uh…” he almost loses track. “Don’t mind him.”
“Are you sure?” Minho interrogates, “I feel like I’ve done something to him to piss him off and he’s ready to pounce at me when I least suspect it.”
“Don’t worry,” Taehyung attempts to reassure and dilute the worry. “No, Jeongguk’s fine with you.”
“Mad at you then?”
“You...” Taehyung discerns when Jeongguk shoves one hand into his pocket and wipes the tip of his nose with the opposite. He then turns somewhere else - somewhere away from them - but deep down inside, Taehyung’s aware they’ve got off on the wrong foot.
There’s an issue between them and if Jeongguk’s going to deny it, so be it.
He sighs: “...are correct, hyung.”
Minho pats him on the back. “Aw, it’s okay. You’ll be fine! Don’t you fret, Tae. If it’s any consolation to Jeongguk, I won’t steal his best friend.”
Although the promise was meant to soothe the burn, all it does is amplify the stress there. Especially when Jeongguk moves away, Taehyung feels shame simmer within him.
“I hope so,” he mumbles, “I mean, I kind of like him...”
Minho doesn’t get to hear the rest of the sentence and the extent of Taehyung’s emotions. And when he finds courage to resume their conversation, all Taehyung dreads is the rest of the week and how it might turn out to be pure hell.
►
Two days pass, and Taehyung’s suspicions have become a cold reality. They haven’t exchanged a word since the fundraising event took place. Well, Taehyung’s tried, but all that’s given is complete and utter radio silence.
It’s the infamous silent treatment which in all their years of friendship, they’d never felt like doing because it’s foolish.
It’s foolish, petulant and quite absurd behavior.
What increased the tension was Jeongguk not turning on the radio and them having to hear each other breathe, along with the turn signals being switched on and off every so often. They’ve never acted this way - so disinterested, so out of touch. It felt like they were strangers and one person had to drive the other because it was a mandatory job rather than a willing favor.
They came to the event happy, and left in such a weird state.
Jimin’s in agreement with Taehyung’s perception, too. (It was only right that he came to the elder after the incident. He didn’t know who else to retort to.)
“He’s being childish,” Jimin exclaims when they’re in their local mini-market. They were sent to buy snacks because they’re having a movie night at Seokjin’s apartment whereas the rest of the guys are awaiting their return. With the perfect opportunity where they can talk without the fear of being eavesdropped, Taehyung brought the subject into the light as they stepped inside. “See? It’s getting so messy. Why can’t you two communicate like adults?”
“Jimin-ah, I’ve settled with my truth and feelings,” grumbles Taehyung. “I came to you, you know this.”
“Ah, correct—with your dramatic tendencies,” Jimin chuckles as he grabs a bag of chips and knocks it into the cart they roll across different aisles. “I’m proud of you for your courage, but you kind of instigated.”
“Instigated?” Taehyung stops the cart with a hand, in pure disbelief. “Instigated? What did I do?”
“Taehyung-ah, please don’t start...”
“No, what’s up?”
“You saw that guy, noticed Jeongguk got disgruntled when he found out you were fucking, and because you wanted an escalation or to see how bothered he’d get, you went to Minho.”
Jimin has gotten super blunt, hasn’t he?
“Maybe if he didn’t look so cute when he was mad, then I wouldn’t have tried anything.”
“Tae...”
“Sorry.”
They surf through more aisles, picking up some ice cream and candy they like to snack on during nights like these. While Jimin goes to grab something, Taehyung sucks his teeth.
“Did I instigate the issue?”
Jimin huffs out a laugh. “You did. And you’ve got to remember you haven’t confessed to Jeongguk, so he’s got no clue how you feel about him.”
He hasn’t, but Jeongguk hasn’t mentioned or alluded to any sort of romantic feelings either. It’s complicated and so stupid of them. They’re young adults who encourage healthy communication yet they’ve departed in separate directions. They’re on opposite ends of the spectrum.
“Do you feel like it’s jealousy? How he reacted to us?”
“Yeah, or maybe he couldn’t stand the sight of Minho in general,” Jimin suggests. “Probably seemed obnoxious to him.”
“He hasn’t spoken to me at all. If I ask something, Jeongguk will hum or shrug and I’m like, can’t you set aside your anger for one second and respond to me like you’ve normally done?”
“Well, I’m not Jeongguk so I couldn’t say.”
And that’s the thing: Jimin isn’t Jeongguk so it’s pointless to ask when he could go to Jeongguk himself and de-escalate their tension there. See what the root of the problem is.
“What if I do and he keeps ignoring me?”
“Maybe I can chat with Jeongguk? Or Seokjin could pull him aside and get to the bottom of what the hell’s going on between you guys?”
With a nod, Taehyung sends Jimin a thumbs-up to express consensus.
“You and Jeonggukkie eventually need to communicate, though. We can’t do this for long.”
He wonders where that’d go; if it’s even possible they’ll get around to it. With Jeongguk’s irrational behavior, it feels it’d be a part of a dream more than it does a future case.
►
Jeon Jeongguk doesn’t blow matters out of proportion or grow aggravated because there were things that hadn’t gone his way. He’s made peace in knowing there are unattainable feats in life.
Ever since he was a child, Sooyeon gave him the incentive to squash quarrels out through the means of verbal communication. On the playground, if he was upset with a classmate for stealing his toy in the middle of play-time, she said he didn’t have to keep quiet, or cry in the corner. She told Jeongguk if he wanted his toy, to inform them he didn’t like their actions and that he would please like it returned.
Sooyeon also said if Jeongguk didn’t like the actions of a friend, to tell them because they might’ve not comprehended what they’d done. Said it wasn’t healthy to keep it bottled up because it’d result in too much pain, too much suffering for one’s mental health to contend.
Her lessons were spot-on and he’d instilled it into a routine where if Jeongguk felt the slightest bit upset, he wouldn’t remain shut. He’d adapted the tenacity to do so up until this age.
It was important to Sooyeon for her son to communicate and feel the confidence to do so, but right now? For some reason, he’s shattered all boundaries and he’s too fucking scared in the uncertainty of where his head is.
The thing is: he and Taehyung fuck. They’ve been intimate plenty and had sex with other people, though before they realized it, they began to seek it from just each other. They stopped initiating ‘booty-calls’ with students on campus or people in the past they’d slept with, and stuck like that.
There was never a verbal agreement for it to be an exclusive activity, however, so why the hell was he so upset with Taehyung and Minho?
Is it because Taehyung didn’t notify him of them ever getting together at some point? Then again, he can’t be when they’re not boyfriends and the sole title Jeongguk can claim is being Taehyung’s best friend (should the latter still deem him that considering how dramatic Jeongguk acted.)
It’s gotten so bad, he’s begun to ignore Taehyung. It wasn’t intended to be a continuous silence (it was only supposed to last for the rest of the night of the event until he got over himself), but as the days moved on, Jeongguk couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop the frustration from seeping in when he saw Taehyung the next morning - when he’d gotten flashbacks of Minho and him all cozy and sweet at the fundraiser. Furthermore, this frustration would worsen to where they don’t sleep in the same bed anymore.
What had remained neat and untouched, the mattress they chose not to sleep on was used for the first time since they became roommates. Jeongguk hastily snatched the pillow he’d used on Taehyung’s mattress and threw it onto his original bed, facing the wall as he slept.
Perhaps it was all a dream when he heard Taehyung awaken and muster the softest, “Jeongguk?” at the absent warmth.
It’s fucking stupid, Jeongguk’s pride can allow him to attest to this, yet he hasn’t gathered enough to trounce the hurdle faced. To ‘get over himself,’ like his brain advised him to. There’s a sick feeling brewed within the confinement of his chest, something nauseating and alarming all at once, with a distinct uncomfortable feeling boiling under his skin. Whatever the fuck it is, Jeongguk hopes for a release, but to no avail yet.
Just recently, the seven friends spent a night at Seokjin’s and while Jeongguk was intrigued with the movie, it wasn’t sufficient in maintaining his excitement when Taehyung popped a question: “Could I sit beside you?”
God, he felt like an asshole when he pretended nothing was asked. Despite his full attention staying on the screen, he could sense Taehyung’s posture slouch and happy facade diminish.
In the middle of skimming words on a page, a hand taps at Jeongguk. “Move,” the person, Seokjin, demands, “This is my couch, and you’re taking up my space.”
At the instruction, Jeongguk lifts his legs, enabling Seokjin to slip beneath the space and until he does so, he puts them on his lap to relax.
“What’re you reading?”
“A book...” Jeongguk’s eyes never leave the page he’s on, yet he hasn’t gotten a single clue as to what it’s about. He grabbed one at random from Seokjin’s bookshelf and hadn’t looked back since. “What are you up to?”
“Why are you here?” The brutal question emerges at the same time, and Jeongguk cringes because he must’ve hung out for far too long at Seokjin’s apartment. Any opportunity he has, he’s come to his (uninvited) so it’s reasonable if Seokjin’s sick of his shit.
He’s kind of shocked it didn’t come sooner.
“Because…” Jeongguk tucks a finger between the pages and closes the book to shove it between his legs. “...I love my favorite hyung and would love to spend a quality day with him?”
“Terrible excuse. You’ve not spent a day, you’ve spent days - as in plural - and if I recall correctly, when you got drunk at your first frat party, you said Yoongi was your favorite.”
“...Did I?”
Seokjin scoffs. “Don’t feign forgetfulness. I’ll repeat: why are you at my place when you’ve got a dorm of your own?”
Being the eldest in their friend group, Seokjin’s accommodated a blunt perspective and way of confronting the younger ones. He doesn’t beat around the bush- he flocks straight to it. With how often they joke and play around, it might not come across as possible, but it does occur. Their fake-fighting and chaotic dynamic doesn’t deter them from engaging in serious discussions.
They work so well because Seokjin has promised that while they were friends, he would be a hyung to Jeongguk first and foremost, which would make communication much smoother.
Nonetheless, apart from the actual situation, Jeongguk’s stunned with what to report. “Um,” he huffs, purses his mouth at an odd angle, “I’ve got an issue.”
“No shit,” tsks Seokjin. “What type of issue is it? Is it personal? Does it involve somebody else?” there’s a pause in between. “...Taehyung?”
Jeongguk threads into silence.
“Oh, so it is Taehyung.”
There’s no reply, though the lack of one partakes as the indication.
“Okay, so it’s him. What can I do for you?”
There’s no purpose in conferring. What’s there to speak of? That he might be insecure with where he stands with Taehyung and he crossed the lines they established? That he’s not sure if he’s jealous or uncomfortable or just a downright ass for how he’s reacting?
“All I’ve learned is that you’re avoiding him,” Seokjin exclaims, “I was told you’re pretending as if he doesn’t exist, which makes sense because you’re on my couch at the moment.”
“Hyung…”
Seokjin’s index finger lifts mid-air; Jeongguk quietens. “No excuses, alright?”
“But hyung—” formulates at the tip of his tongue anyway, ready to escape no matter the expense. Regardless of what bind he’d been caught in and having the guts to confess to his petty behavior towards Taehyung, it’s instinctive for him to try and save himself from Seokjin’s wrath.
“What did I tell you?”
The index finger and serious tone trouble Jeongguk, so he hushes. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t like to disappoint people, let alone the eldest of their friends. To be on the receiving end of Seokjin’s creased eyebrows and curt replies can make one feel microscopic - insignificant - and Jeongguk hates it.
“You guys got into something heated,” says Seokjin, “And I’m not going to insert myself into your business when none of its got to do with me, but Jeongguk-ah, as your hyung who loves you and wishes the best for you, I feel it’s right to offer insight.” The shift from playful and funny to this all of sudden causes Jeongguk to shrink in on himself. He’s not being scolded; feels like it, though. “You and Taehyung are the greatest best friends and I’ve known you both since before college. Whatever the hell you’ve got going on, fix it. Jimin spoke to Taehyung and he’s a bit worried about you guys. Think it’s pretty safe to say you’re unsettled by what he might’ve said or done, too, which is why you need to put your differences aside and meet in the middle.”
“I understand you, hyung, and I appreciate you caring for us,” Jeongguk murmurs. “I—It’s weird, like I don’t know how to describe it.”
“So try. Put in the effort of explaining yourself. Let me in on what’s going on in your head,” Seokjin urges in a sincere tone. “I don’t judge.”
Without further assurance, Jeongguk lets the first piece of truth be expelled. “Taehyung and I pretended to date so I could make my parents happy.”
Seokjin doesn’t appear to be too shocked with the admission. “I’m aware,” he says. “He did it to be a good sport; anybody would if it meant helping their best friend or someone who they love.”
“Right, right,” Jeongguk lowers his head in shame because to hear it from an outsider cements the reality and guilt of what he put his best friend through. Still, if he were to be truthful through the pain, there’s a side of him which isn’t all too remorseful, and it simmers with bitterness because far too many mixed signals have been given. Plus, at the event, it felt as if Taehyung spurred the incident on purpose. “Well, the second time we did it, it was because my mom wanted to see us and to show support to her co-workers who orchestrated the fundraiser— which is where we went.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And...” Jeongguk clicks his tongue and wonders where in the hell does he go without sounding idiotic. “It turned out, my mom’s co-worker’s son attended the event and when Taehyung saw who it was, I could automatically sense something was up.”
Seokjin nods.
“Seriously hyung, had you been there with us, you would’ve assumed he’d seen a ghost in broad daylight.”
“Was he familiar with the son?”
A nod. “Yep. His name’s Minho and they were involved in the past.”
“Oh,” Seokjin’s voice drops, borderline understanding. “Ohh.”
“And if I’m honest, yes I’m bothered. I don’t know why, I don’t know if it’s because I’m an asshole who can’t cope with Taehyung not feeling a need to share information with me despite our friendship, or if I’m pissed at how quick he was to leave me in the dust while he went to Minho. I don’t know what the hell overcame me. I’ve never gone to the extent of ignoring a person because of how I felt. That’s stupid. That’s what elementary school kids do when they’ve gotten into an argument with their friend and they want an apology before they decide whether or not they’ll forgive them. Hell, eleven year old me would’ve done it.”
“Well, I’m glad you recognized your petulance,” mutters Seokjin, and Jeongguk flushes pink. He’s twenty-two years old, yet he’s acted more like his shoe size. “So, what you’re telling me is: you got jealous. Were jealous. Are jealous.”
Jealous?
Would jealousy encapsulate what he’d done? Jealousy about what though? He doesn’t like Taehyung - no. No, no, he does not like Taehyung.
“What?” he spits out then, maddened by the presumption. “No, no, c’mon hyung. How could you think I like Tae?”
Jeongguk doesn’t expect for Seokjin to huff before he pulls himself off of the sofa, turning the corner. “W-Wait, where are you going?”
“I didn’t mention anything about you liking Tae, therefore I cannot stand to be sober for the rest of the evening,” hollers Seokjin. “You want?!”
Four shots of whiskey later, Jeongguk spews things like a leak with an inability to be contained. Nothing soothes him; nothing assuages the emotions which ebb through him like a riptide. At first, it’s laughter- he somehow can’t shut the hell up about the night he and Taehyung got in trouble outside of Taehyung’s childhood home for sneaking out during a sleepover to buy a couple of snacks.
They went to a local gas station in oversized hoodies and Jeongguk’s lame pajama pants (Taehyung said he liked the pattern), exhilarated than ever until Miss’ Kim’s car lights beamed at them when they stepped outside the station. It was quite humiliating to be pulled into the car and lectured on why it’s bad to go out at midnight (since they were still young) for ten minutes by his friend’s mother.
Then, it’s replaced with a huge smile, one sinking into Jeongguk’s face, the ends of his eyes creased in absolute delight as he recalls those moments where they were wild and free, uncaring of how students would perceive them. Recalls when they’d roleplay as warriors, or when Taehyung would pick at his food and create the funniest sound effects that’d warrant stares from either side of them.
For as long as Jeongguk can remember, they were always a good duo.
And then, as most drinking experiences go when a person has a lot of shit on their plate, Jeongguk blubbers through tears.
His brain warns him to stop at first, yet his mouth can’t comprehend the signals sent and his tongue moves at an accelerated rate. “Hyung...” he hiccups, cheeks painted a deep, scarlet red, eyes glistening in an ocean of tears. “I think I fucked up the most incredible friendship I’ve had because I’m too scared to say I like Taehyung.”
Through the blur in vision, Jeongguk registers Seokjin empathetically smiling as he rubs Jeongguk on the back before Jeongguk falls into his crossed arms. He usually doesn’t cry, though with alcohol in his system, he’s wondering if he can ever overcome the influx of feeling consuming him.
“You like Taehyung,” Seokjin repeats after him as he cries through it, “I figured. You’re not subtle.”
“Hyung, hyung - please,” he sobs, “I’m not subtle, I’m not. I kiss him so much, I hold his hands or cuddle him when we’re watching scary movies so I can give him a little comfort. I-I constantly say he’s so beautiful whenever I catch him staring at himself in the mirror.”
“You’re such a sweet person.”
“I was so upset,” he reveals, lifting his head from the table, and sends Seokjin a pained look. “I can’t summarize into words how the sight of them made me feel so sick out of nowhere.”
Seokjin’s thumb presses into the glass cup. “It’s a crush, that’s why. Crushes aren’t simple. People can feel a lot from them and it can be overwhelming or frustrating and sometimes you’ll hurt. That’s how they work.”
Jeongguk wipes the droplet from his lower lash line and pouts. “Huh, I guess it is a crush...”
“Why don’t you confront him?”
“Because—” he swallows a ball of spit. “—Because we’re not... We made a deal. Tae doesn’t like me.”
“How could you be sure of something you haven’t tried to express?” Seokjin suggests. “Imagine you confess to Taehyung and it turns out, the crush is mutual. What then?”
What then? Fuck, Jeongguk’s clueless as to what’d occur. He’d probably jump for joy or tackle Taehyung to kiss him all over. From his eyelids to the tip of his nose where his pretty mole rests, and the slope of his cupid’s bow, there’s no spot which would remain unmarked. He’d kiss, treasure and cherish every part of him until the sun rises or until the moon ascends and its prettiest stars twinkle a greeting. “I...”
Seokjin pats him on the back again. “Tomorrow when you’re sober, you’ll go to your dorm.”
“H-Hyung, I can’t.”
“You can and you will. I won’t force you to do what you don’t want, but I do encourage you to speak your mind. If it’s not to confess, at least apologize and mend your friendship. Okay?”
It takes a while for Jeongguk to acquiesce.
“O-Okay,” he sniffles. Wipes the end of his nose and downs a new glass poured for him. “I’ll do it, hyung.”
►
When Jeongguk awakens in Seokjin’s guest-room, there’s pain. Not physical pain (he isn’t sore and luckily there’s no hangover to combat), but memories of the previous night surge to him at an instant. They come full-force, making him queasy with how embarrassing it is.
With the help of alcohol, the impossible literally happened. He had conditioned himself into the notion that he wasn’t romantically attracted to Taehyung; conditioned himself into the notion that he was bitter because he felt he could be easily replaced by Minho.
However, as it happened, those feelings were misconstrued and well, he likes him.
He fucking likes Taehyung.
Jeon Jeongguk wholeheartedly likes Kim Taehyung, and he’s estimating the distance between Seokjin’s apartment and their dorm. Thanks to Seokjin for clearing the air for him, he would love to make it right between them and maybe let Taehyung in on the severity of his feelings.
Like Seokjin pointed out yesterday, Jeongguk’s behavior was childish, therefore an apology is overdue. If Taehyung were to forgive him for his actions, then Jeongguk could attempt to shift to his feelings and release them into the open without restriction. But that’s not what’s important because he has to ask for forgiveness and switch to their old mattress because Taehyung prefers to lay beside something (or someone) as it’s easier for him to fall asleep huddled up.
After Jeongguk takes out a new toothbrush from Seokjin’s cabinet and prepares himself in the bathroom, he then travels to the kitchen where he discovers Seokjin and Namjoon making breakfast.
“Oh,” Namjoon utters when Jeongguk slips through the entryway as he pours a mug of coffee. “Hyung, he’s here.”
In between rinsing plates, Seokjin nudges down the sink’s lever and flaps his hands to dry them off. “Good morning, Jeongguk-ah, it’s nice of you to join us.”
Jeongguk flashes a small smile. “Hi, good morning hyungs. When, uh, when did you come over, Namjoon-hyung?”
At the question, Namjoon twists his wrist to speculate his watch. “About 8 o’clock? It’s 8:23. You want breakfast?”
Breakfast would be good to have, but Jeongguk should remove his car and hop onto the hardest obstacle. “Ah, no thanks. I’ve gotta go. I overstayed my visit. Jin-hyung’s probably praying for me to scramble.”
A snort ensues. “Not true. I love when you’re at mine, but you’ve got a dorm of your own and a roommate who misses you more than you could ever know.”
On the subject of ‘missing,’ with Jeongguk sobered up, he didn’t heed the void in his heart and how it grew bigger within the span of time he avoided Taehyung and tried to stay sheltered in Seokjin’s place. He was at Yoongi’s for a while, too, until Yoongi invited another guest and he didn’t feel like intervening.
In general, it’s his fault and it was his choice to do what he did, but Jeongguk can’t help missing him.
How couldn’t he when Taehyung’s a ray of delight and they’ve never gone this long without interacting?
“Yeah, sure,” he chuckles. “Trying to make me feel better before my big break, huh.”
“Big break?” Namjoon reiterates, puzzled. “What big break?”
Seokjin exchanges a look with Jeongguk to which Jeongguk nods to affirm permission.
“So...” Seokjin walks to the counter where Namjoon works at and places an elbow on the surface. “He’s going to head to his dorm today and confess to Taehyung.”
“Confess?” laughs Namjoon as he sets the coffee pot back into its place and slides a jar of sugar over to dip a spoon in. “Confess what?”
“That he likes Taehyung.”
The spoonful Namjoon acquired instantly spills into his cup, coffee droplets thrashing outside its rim and onto the counter, creating a sticky mess. “Holy shit,” he curses out-loud. “You like Taehyung?!”
All attention transfers onto Jeongguk who bites on the skin of his thumbnail. It’s a bad habit from an earlier age which still hasn’t died. “Um,” he stammers, “Yeah? I like Taehyung-hyung?”
Shifting back to Seokjin, Namjoon emits a “huh?!” which has Seokjin laughing with a careless shrug. “I can’t say any more than what I’m permitted to. If it’s what Jeongguk says, then...”
“You’re crushing on Taehyung when you denied it to Yoongi and I about you two ever being a thing?!”
If they were to get technical, yes, he did. Because ‘crushing’ and ‘dating’ aren’t the exact same concepts and he was too foolish to see during the past year, he’d fallen hard, deep and fast for Taehyung. They weren’t dating on the beach, though a tiny part of Jeongguk had hoped they were converted into an alternate dimension where Taehyung validated their speculations.
“Hyung, we weren’t—” he says, “we aren’t dating. I’m not even certain whether he’ll forgive me for being a dick to him lately.”
“Ah. Can I ask why?”
“I got jealous, like really, ridiculously jealous over a person who used to be in Tae’s life, and it took me on a raging path where I avoided him for days.”
“Damn,” Namjoon offers while cleaning the counter. “Jealousy’s a recipe for disaster. How many days have you ignored him?”
Jeongguk is ashamed of the number. “Four.”
He really needs to apologize to Taehyung or else he might not have a dorm to sleep in. Or what if Taehyung got so pissed, he requested a new roommate or what if he moved in with Jimin and Hoseok and doesn’t plan to return?
What if he’s done with their friendship?
“Yeah,” Namjoon says, “Get to it, Jeongguk-ah. It’s clearly not the end of you guys, but be there for him. Don’t let some person barge into your friendship and let them ruin all of what you’ve shared with Tae.”
There’s a list of people to be grateful for and two of them are Seokjin and Namjoon, Jeongguk reflects.
He nods in comprehension. “Wish me luck?”
“We’re sending all of our good luck charms to you. You’ll do great! Fighting!”
When he leaves Seokjin’s place, a knot coils in Jeongguk’s stomach the closer he is to campus. It’s enough to stop him mid-walk (when he exits the car) to observe the sky and ask whatever higher deity above to provide him the energy, confidence and strength to resolve their issue.
He’s so anxious to see Taehyung face-to-face and pull him aside. How would Taehyung react? What if he hears the key and slams the door on Jeongguk before he can step inside? What if he’s so angry, he starts to pretend like Jeongguk’s the one to not exist?
All these scenarios make the walk a little more scary than it should be. (He hopes they’ll be fine.)
Jeongguk takes the elevator to their floor and when the doors part, he sucks in a deep breath before stepping out of the lift. He catches glimpses of each number on everyone’s door until theirs faces him directly.
A current of blood rushes to his head as he fishes inside of his pants pocket for the golden key and when he sticks it into the lock, Jeongguk exhales.
“...Taehyung-hyung?”
In the background, a faucet runs which indicates Taehyung’s not in the room, and it gives substantial time for him to think about where to begin when he exits the bathroom. Jeongguk closes the door behind him in order to sit on the bed.
Suddenly the toilet flushes, Taehyung’s whistling, and Jeongguk flinches from momentary surprise.
The bathroom door swings open and for the first time since he’d last stayed here, Jeongguk gets a good look into Taehyung’s eyes that appear so sad and hurt, and it’s almost like he’s shocked with Jeongguk there- present in the room as he’d disappeared on him.
“Taehyung-hyung...” he forces out of himself, out of his mouth left agape, “Hi.”
The latter isn’t too pleased; there’s a twist in Taehyung’s facial expression, a scowl developing so fast. “Ha, look who had the balls to come back to our dorm.”
It’s the hook of the entire discourse, the line apprising Jeongguk of just how pissed Taehyung is. It’s justifiable, so he swallows those words and delivers a shaky grin anyway. “H-Hyung, um... I was at Seokjin’s.”
“Good for you.”
“I came to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
“Yes.”
“Apologize for what?” Taehyung grits through his teeth, and it’s a spectacle unwitnessed before. There were occasions where he spiraled with frustration, yet it never came to how bad it is now - where his jaw’s set tight, thick eyebrows cinched at the center and lips pinched at the corner. “You’re an actual ass, Jeongguk.”
It upsets Jeongguk a little how he bypassed his intent. Nevertheless, Jeongguk carries on. “I spoke to Seokjin and he enlightened me about my behavior and hyung - Taehyungie-hyung - I’m so, so, so sorry.”
In a bout of rage, none of it matters to him. Taehyung doesn’t care; he’s entertained by Jeongguk’s sudden need to crawl back for forgiveness. “Ah, I can’t believe the man of the hour is finally speaking to me,” he spits in a harsh laugh, “Jeongguk-ah, I don’t want to hear it, okay?”
“Hyung, please?” it’s pure instinct for him to reach outward and grab Taehyung’s forearm to pull him in proximity to each other. “No, no, can you please listen to me?”
Taehyung cranes his neck and bursts out in another peel of laughter, the vein in his neck protruding slightly. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. “Why should I, huh? How do you ignore me for four days and expect me to show you some compassion? You’re an absolute asshole.”
“I was an asshole,” Jeongguk mutters. “I admit, I was, but I’m trying to apologize for it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“I don’t need your apologies,” he says, still allowing Jeongguk to hold his wrist and brush the warm skin back and forth with a thumb. “I tried so hard to rationalize how you treated me, I did, but Jeongguk-ah, what happened wasn’t okay. Here I’m thinking we’re best friends and you went and treated me like shit.”
More guilt nestles in, burying a home in Jeongguk’s chest. “I’m sorry hyung. I’m sorry for the radio silence, for ignoring you on movie night, for switching to the other bed. For everything.”
“Why the hell did you do it then?”
“Stupidity,” he says. “It was sheer stupidity and there’s no denying what I did to you.”
What’s said is evoked with pure genuineness. There’s no lies attached to his words and he maintains eye-contact while Taehyung diverts his attention everywhere except on him.
“Jeongguk, no,” the elder suspires, somewhat annoyed. “I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but I’m not going to take it anymore. Your apology has no significance to me.”
“No significance?” Jeongguk then scoffs because he can’t conceptualize it. He made a mature move by acknowledging his wrongdoings, heading straight to the dorm and attempting to communicate like Seokjin and Namjoon encouraged him to. If he’s the bad guy in all of this, Taehyung should also claim responsibility because he’s being immature by not listening. “All you’ve done is disregard each of my passes.”
“Passes?” Taehyung mocks. “You’re ridiculous. Like I said, I don’t owe you anything.”
He lets go of his wrist, offended by the latter’s careless way of being. Taehyung’s anger is reasonable, though the younger won’t stand for his remarks and how he shrugs Jeongguk off like it’s the easiest thing. “Is this how you’re going to act, hyung?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know what?” It’s Jeongguk’s turn to feel frustrated as he stands from the bed. Frustration boils in his veins, and he’s tired of the neglect. “I tried to make things right between us, but I’m not going to stand here if all you’ll do is paint me as the bad guy. Sure, I ignored you and behaved in a super irrational manner, but don’t pretend you’re all good and innocent.”
If they were to increase louder in volume, no doubt everyone else would hear the commotion.
“What do you even mean by that?” Taehyung presses on. “As if I did anything as bad as what you did to me.”
“You did,” Jeongguk dryly chuckles. “Anyway, there’s literally no purpose in continuing our conversation, so I’ll leave. Can’t believe I tried with you.”
Tossing his phone on the bed where it hides somewhere in the duvet, Taehyung shifts into an assertive stance. “Go ahead. Say it.”
“Say what?”
“You were so keen in calling me out, so say it. Say what you wanted to say, Jeongguk-ah.”
For the most part, Jeongguk abstains from drama because it’s unnecessary. When fueled with annoyance, however? “You left me to talk to Minho.”
“So?” Taehyung says, “What’s the problem with me reuniting with a friend and trying to catch up on his life?”
“Because you did it to get a reaction out of me,” Jeongguk rasps and Taehyung blanches. “You took advantage of getting inside my head and you solely went to Minho to see what I’d do.”
For a brief interval, Jeongguk braces for the worst. Braces for Taehyung to kick him out or to call him out, except none of those scenarios occur.
“Why did you react to begin with?” they’re quiet then. “Are you jealous, Jeongguk? Do you want to be the only one who fucks me, hm? Is that what it is? Is that why you were pissed - because before you, there was Minho who gave it to me good, huh?”
His tone is grating, sharp. Causes Jeongguk’s chest to inflate with frustration. They’ve gotten nowhere except in complete circles.
Seokjin was wrong about them. He was wrong about their conflict requiring a solution and for them to return on good terms. It’s an impossible task.
“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jeongguk snaps like a rubber band, absolutely livid, and Taehyung’s unresponsiveness makes him want to laugh in the least humorous fashion. How immature. “Respectfully, get your head out of your ass, hyung.”
He expects Taehyung to fight back as hard and with equal ferocity. Instead, he flushes red and goes to collect his keys, stuffing them in a fist. “S-Screw you,” he chews on his cheek, “I’m going to spend the night at Jimin’s, so don’t anticipate my return. You get your head out of your ass, Jeongguk, and then when you manage to, call me once you’ve handled your shit.”
That’s the last Jeongguk sees of him that day.
►
Taehyung’s bothered. He’s so fucking bothered with the ordeal and how it all unfolded. Bothered with the nonchalant attitude Jeongguk maintained while attempting to apologize, and how he brushed off what Taehyung felt.
Four days.
It was four days where they hadn’t spoken. Four days where they didn’t contact each other, four days of Jeongguk slipping into their dorm during late hours and under the fresh covers of the mattress they’d never slept on. It was four days of Taehyung contemplating whether or not they’d come up from this— if they might’ve gone too far over a situation so minute, a situation which could’ve been prevented by the means of communication.
They’re both fucking stupid, he knows. They’re fucking stupid for their immaturity and he’s foolish for his reluctance in hearing Jeongguk’s perspective, but Jeongguk’s at fault as well. They’re on the same wavelength and both should be held accountable for their actions and pathetic behavior.
Regardless, Taehyung’s pissed and talking to Jimin (again) did nothing for him the night he disappeared. In fact, his anger had increased, boiling his blood and generating a headache that pierced his temples like a hammer pummeling against nails. He was never much of a drinker, yet for the first occasion ever, alcohol seemed like the best option to cool him down. To pacify him into an unbothered state of mind. Taehyung drank until he felt numb, until the headache somehow subsided and he fell under the cusps of sleep with how drowsy he’d become.
Jimin fetched him a blanket, tucked him in nicely and then they exchanged words the next day where Taehyung was demanded to fix their friendship. And although he promised he would, it’s Saturday, and Saturday he promised a guy in one of his courses that he’d come to a party.
It’s some frat type of thing (which is going to be shitty considering he’ll be alone, but it beats staying with Jeongguk.) Taehyung would prefer isolation than being trapped in a room with a self-righteous ass who treated him like garbage.
Wanting to stick with a casual outfit, Taehyung dresses in denim jeans, a plain, black turtleneck, and sticks a pair of cherry earrings into his earlobes. It’s a casual outfit, and the finishing touches are just a bit of B.B cream concealer that he squeezes onto the tip of his finger and disperses underneath his eyes. He taps the product into his skin, looking towards the ceiling for easier access and when he’s done, Taehyung gets a final glimpse of himself in the mirror.
He’s satisfied with it, and he’s also satisfied with his soft, natural curls framing his forehead so prettily.
It’d be a shame if nobody flirted with him at the party, but then again, Taehyung’s not in any mood to reciprocate affection or milk someone’s ego beyond fathomability. These guys are already too into themselves so if he were to show the littlest interest in them, they’d undoubtedly grow into airheads.
Besides, despite the shitshow going down, Taehyung still wants Jeongguk. Perhaps it’s the aforementioned foolishness that’s clouded his perception to which he has no way to climb out of, but Jeongguk’s the one he’s always going to like. Jeongguk’s always going to be the one Taehyung yearns for, desires, pictures them in the happiest scenarios and living their best lives together.
Sadly, this can’t happen with the latter’s attitude.
The second he escapes the bathroom and rushes to slip on a jacket so he can leave, a hushed voice from the opposite mattress intrigues him. “Where are you headed?”
Of course, it’s none other than Jeongguk who suddenly feels a need to know his every move. It’s like he’s a parent, or parental guardian in general, and Taehyung wants him to back off.
He ushers no response and scavenges his drawer for an accessory to go on his wrist.
“Hyung...” there’s a feeble sigh, “As your roommate, it’s sensible for me to know where you’re going in case of an emergency or in case I need to pick you up.” Solemnly, Jeongguk speaks and Taehyung shows no care in the world.
Why should he?
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, this one’s cute,” Taehyung murmurs to himself upon grabbing a beaded bracelet Hoseok made for him a little while ago. It’s got the most adorable smiley faces on the beads. “Hm, I’ll go with it then.” He slips it on his wrist and rotates it so the letterings face him.
“You’re gonna play like that again?”
It’s difficult to stay so mad when he sounds genuinely concerned, though Taehyung has to. He’s not going to permit Jeongguk to toy with him and then let him get away without some consequence.
A brutal silence lingers.
“Fuck,” Jeongguk curses under a sharp breath. “Hyung, you’re impossible.”
It’s a painful treatment to serve because naturally, Taehyung’s a talkative individual and they’ve avoided instances like these for a long time. Maybe it’s due to his attachment to people and the manner in which he was raised where he couldn’t stand to keep a person in the dark, no matter how badly they might’ve treated him. Or maybe it’s because of the concept of breaking Jeongguk’s heart which makes an incessant itch unravel - why his jaw tenses and a prickle of pain blooms within the confinement of his chest when Jeongguk grows with frustration.
The silent treatment is a horrible game to play.
“Fine. Whatever, I don’t care,” is what Jeongguk grumbles in disinterest, “Make sure to return at a reasonable time, otherwise I’ll put the latch on the door and you won’t be able to come inside.”
A snarky remark begs to exit from Taehyung’s mouth, doused in annoyance and indignation because of the younger’s callousness, yet he resists the urge. Suppresses it down with a single gulp and nudges the drawer back into place. There’s a mirror above the dresser in which Taehyung then issues a glance into and Jeongguk’s watching him from behind, focused yet so blank and out of thought.
What is he thinking?
A curt vibration unravels in his pocket, causing him to check briefly in order to find out who or what the notification comes from. It’s a text from the guy who invited him, yet Jeongguk figures differently.
He forces a husky laugh, startling him from the four text messages directed to his phone. “Oh, I’ve got it; you’re gonna hook up with Minho, aren’t you?”
It’s incredulous what extreme lengths he’ll go to make their peace nonexistent.
“Jesus Christ,” Taehyung mutters, “Oh, what the fuck, Jeongguk? What the fuck is your deal?”
He didn’t mean to blow up; he intended to maintain a neutral position and disregard him as best as he could until his calm attitude crumbled into indistinguishable pieces. Taehyung’s patient and understanding but the tension has pierced the air to a point where neither of them can walk around each other’s toes. They must combat the issue at its source.
Taehyung twists around to an unsettled Jeongguk whose chest rises ferociously and who appears seconds from making yet another comment that’ll further implement the idea that they can’t get around this. That they can’t come to a resolution.
“Just say you’re going to fuck Minho, hyung,” Jeongguk’s bitter and angry and it’s a sour sensation to stomach. “Well?” he says in a tone meant to rush Taehyung into saying something which isn’t remotely factual. “That’s where you’re headed, right? To go hang with Minho and have him make you see stars?”
It’s a perplexing opening to an argument— the innuendo of Minho and him sparking a red, hot flush on every visible point of his body. “Is your mission to make me dislike you?” Taehyung sneers, “Because honestly, Jeongguk-ah, you’re doing an exceptional job at it.”
“Why? Because you can’t handle the truth?”
“Why are you so invested in my life? Why do you care who I fuck or who I allow to walk in? You’re not my boyfriend, you’re not my lover, you’re not anybody who can dictate who I’ve got an ability to seek. You’re supposed to be my best friend and yes, I let you fuck me on numerous occasions but you’re starting to become a person who I almost regret seeing.”
Low blow. It’s a low fucking blow and Taehyung despises how he can’t control himself from saying it. Jeongguk may not be a boyfriend or a partner, but his opinions are treasured and cherished. He can’t retract his statement, unfortunately.
These words are verbal yet they resonate enough to result in a physical reaction where the latter flinches. “Some best friend you are.”
“Me?!” Taehyung shouts, “If you find that I’m unreasonable, imagine how I feel about you!”
“You can leave,” Jeongguk waves him off in dismissal, not once showing interest in exchanging eye-contact or leaving them on a neutral note. “I’m not anyone of importance to you, so you can go ahead and leave the dorm and go fuck Minho for all I care.”
Ignoring all signs and messages to stick to neutrality, Taehyung tosses his keys elsewhere and snakes his hands on his waist, positioning them boldly. “I’ll ask you again and if you choose not to answer, I’m leaving and I’m calling the office for a new dormitory placement.” An empty threat is what this is. It’s an empty threat with a purpose of scaring Jeongguk into believing he’ll never come back should he not respond. “Remove your head out of your ass and tell me why you’re acting like this.”
"I’m not— forget it. Just go.”
“Not until you tell me the reasoning behind your behavior and why you’re so insistent in losing me as a best friend.”
“Taehyung-hyung—”
“Now, Jeongguk! I want to know why.”
“And I’m not going to indulge you in any information. It’s none of your business, alright?” says Jeongguk, all hope lost. “Leave wherever you’re meant to be tonight. Like I said, don’t return too late because I’m putting the latch on.”
Without realizing his upcoming actions, Taehyung moves at a frequency unexpected to Jeongguk given the jolt he experiences when Taehyung drops everything and approaches him at the mattress. “Fuck you,” he seethes in close proximity.
At the center of Jeongguk’s pretty, dark eyebrows (that he loves to trace when he’s succumbed to a deep sleep), a wrinkle unfurls on the patch of skin there. He’s disturbed by the sequence of events. “Fuck me?” he repeats in a low-pitched Busan satoori Taehyung’s familiar with. “I won’t give you the satisfaction of seeping under my skin. Here I am, twenty-two years old and somehow I’m acting way more mature than you are right now.”
There’s no other functional way to address the topic, so he ushers it to get it over with.
“You want me all to yourself, don’t you?”
It’d be humiliating to mention if it weren’t for his intuition stringing clues together and cementing the truth for what it is.
Either Jeongguk’s an envious best friend or someone who believes in neglecting feelings until they destroy whatever composure they’ve struggled to grasp onto.
“...No,” is mustered with little to no courage, shaky, hesitant and too slow for it to sound convincing. In the years they’ve known each other, Jeongguk has never resonated in a tone that lacks so much in every aspect, which is why it makes it all obvious. Jeongguk acted like this because he’s jealous of the notion that Minho could ever sneak back into Taehyung’s life and get whisked under the hands of desire and lust because—
He likes him.
Jeongguk fucking likes Taehyung.
The universe, in all its magical, mysterious ways, will never cease to amaze him.
While it’s probably one of the greatest news to uncover, Taehyung can’t catch a moment to bask in gratification and relief. Realistically, the rage contained within him ignites at a faster rapidity and in mere milliseconds, the party is forgotten.
“You like me but you were too much of a coward to admit it,” he concludes, sardonic. “You bailed out of telling me and thought ignoring me was the considerate and correct option rather than being blunt with what you felt.”
“I-I don’t,” Jeongguk stammers, though Taehyung can’t believe him because he reads like a mirror- transparent and clear despite the hesitancy.
“Look me in the eyes when you claim it.” In contrast to the request, he avoids the initiation and it’s so fucking infuriating. “Okay, well whenever you’re ready to foster a conversation, you’ve got my number to have me back and explain then. Bye.”
Out of nowhere, the younger loses his cool. “Fuck, fine! Is that what you want to hear? That I’m so ridiculously in love with you, it’s consumed me whole and I acted like a piece of shit because I couldn’t understand my feelings and just had to take it out on you?” Jeongguk’s chest inflates with every inhale sucked in. “I know I was an asshole, hyung, and I’m so sorry for it!”
Taehyung thought it’d be a monumental peak of the mountain, though all he wants to do - all he focuses on - is how badly he’d like to kiss him. How badly he wants Jeongguk to lay him down on the bed, make him forget about any and every bad memory they’ve created in the past week. Wants to forget the silence, the avoidance, how it sucked to be away from him for four days.
Four agonizing days where he’d forgotten the warmth and pressure of Jeongguk’s body pressed against his as they lay in peace, arms snaking around each other as they’d fallen asleep. Four agonizing days where Taehyung would try to reach out only to receive a cold shoulder, a voided, hollow response.
To hear the confession now? He’s surprised not to have burst into tears yet.
Oh, how he missed Jeongguk.
“Please,” his voice doesn’t dare to raise in volume. It’s so low, Taehyung can barely recognize himself which is uncharacteristic of him. “Please, Jeongguk…”
“Hyung?” seemingly blanketed in worry, Jeongguk hurries to sit up, extending a hand to cradle the side of his face. It’s serene bliss, the smoothness of his palm calming Taehyung’s nerves, making him feel all sorts of rambunctious butterflies. “What’s wrong? Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I-I genuinely am. Please don’t hate me. I know I fucked up, and I’ve just been a total asshole to treat you how I did. I like you so much, I—”
“Can you fuck me?”
The question is unpredictable, but Jeongguk just confessed to liking Taehyung and Taehyung wants to savor their time in such an intimate and personal manner. He wants to feel him — wants to experience all of him — wants to experience the defined shape of his shoulders as they expand and contract above him, and wants to experience the heat of his torso pressing against his chest. He wants to be intimate.
He wants - savors - Jeongguk.
“Oh...”
With the same hand cradling his cheek, Taehyung engulfs his wrist and nudges it away so Jeongguk’s slender fingers hover by his mouth. They’re the prettiest digits; littered in intricate ink on the knuckle area. His nails, too - they’re long, yet not as long as Taehyung’s, because Jeongguk has acquired a habit of trimming them as he’s not one to prefer length on his. Adorning three fingers are thick, chunky metallic rings and it increases the visual appeal of his hands.
They’re so pretty, Taehyung can’t help part his lips a fraction of an inch before he’s sucking Jeongguk’s index finger into his mouth, his tongue wet around the digit as he reaches the knuckle. A reaction is immediate, with Jeongguk groaning at the lewd sight and how it’s reminiscent of when he gives blowjobs.
“Fuh’ me,” he instructs, the intrusion making it somewhat hard to speak yet it’s blatant and clear to acknowledge. Fuck me.
It’s what he’d like.
It’s what he desires: to be ravished by him.
With wide eyes, Jeongguk stares at him in disbelief. “W-What? What about where you were going? Weren’t you on your way?”
A trickle of spit accumulates on the skin and he licks it clean. “Jeongguk-ah, please. I thought you liked it when I begged you?”
“That’s not—” the latter intently watches the line of spit stretch between them, “—the point.”
“I’m not leaving,” Taehyung states, “I won’t leave. I want to stay with you, and I want you to take me to bed. Won’t you please make me forget everything?”
There’s a specific lilt to it, to the words spewed. Taehyung needs him, but he’s also unsettled with the irrational turnout of things. Truthfully, a part of him still feels betrayed and hurt, and the sole way he thinks he can hash it out is through sex. Because sex is an act which can unleash whatever pent up aggression, hurt, anger, jealousy or any other significant emotion which binds people.
And sex with Jeongguk - sex with a guy he’s harbored so many feelings for?
It could be a relief for him. For them.
A disastrous cloud storms in his chest.
“If it’s what you want me to do.”
“I do. Just— if you want to as well.”
Before they can touch upon the subject of where they went wrong, they’re flying inwards, smashing their mouths together in a ferocious fashion. There’s little to no gentle pacing in their kiss; instead an arduous energy radiating between them as Jeongguk threads past a deeper, carnal barrier with a deliberate lick at Taehyung’s bottom lip. It’s automatic for them to move their hands around then, and a forearm loops the circumference of his waist to tug him into bed.
They’ve just got done arguing, established at least one side of their feelings, and now—
Now Taehyung wants him. Now Taehyung wants all of Jeongguk, fully, wholly, without any loose ends.
They kiss for minutes that ultimately translate into seconds with how rushed they are. It’s cliché to bring up, though somehow, in the midst of such fervid intensity, Taehyung does feel butterflies in his tummy. They flap their wings at a wild, uncontrollable speed, bumping into the walls containing them as he lifts a knee and settles it on the edge of where he’s at. The mattress gives in under his weight and Jeongguk leans backwards to provide space.
The mattress, by no means, is king-sized, queen-sized or any general size which can efficiently contain two people their height, but together they get it to work. They’re compressed at their chests, and for a gracious moment, Taehyung nearly squeaks at the warmth and softness of Jeongguk’s mouth. They hadn’t done this in a while (well, it’s what it feels like for him anyway), so it takes him by slight surprise to experience the sensation again. Jeongguk doesn’t taste like those fruity chapstick flavors he loves to apply, but there’s still a hint of sweetness, a hint of sugar Taehyung loves.
“I like you,” Jeongguk breathes in between, exhaling as he withdraws to collect Taehyung’s hips into his hands and pull his entire body into the corner of where he’s pinned in. “I fucking like you so much, it literally ached me to do what I did to you.”
“Ignore me?” Taehyung fills the blank space for him with a mild frown - because essentially, that’s what was done. “Say it, it’s not going to hurt me if you do.”
It seems he’s too hesitant to do so, yet Jeongguk repeats it after nonetheless, swallowing a clump of spit formulated on his tongue. “Ignore you. I’m sorry, hyung.”
Regardless of promising not to spiral if he were to come clean with himself, a wave of devastation pushes at Taehyung and he shakes his head to avoid all thoughts which come to him. “There you go," he whispers. “Fuck me good.”
“That’s what you want?”
To gather a better position, Taehyung shifts and snakes through Jeongguk’s legs, their crotches brushing against one another. They hiss at the contact, then melt into a continuous kiss. “‘S what I need, c’mon— I’ll be so good for you, Jeongguk-ah.”
“You’re always good for me, hyung,” comes the reply, spreading goosebumps on the exposed portions of Taehyung’s arms. Needless to say, there is something so nice about being given a high compliment like such. Praise has always been a greater weakness of his, and it’s amplified by the person behind it, the person who ushers these words so effortlessly. For Jeongguk to talk to him like this, it’s as if pure molasses has edged into the crook of each word. “You’re always so good for me. You’re so beautiful…”
A kiss lands straight on Taehyung’s nose, at the tip where a faint beauty mark has printed itself. He smiles under Jeongguk’s chin. “No, you’re beautiful.”
“No, hyung, let me talk about you. You’re incredible. You’re funny, talented, witty, and I love when you smile because it lights up the room you’re in."
None of it’s supposed to be romantic. They’re supposed to be tense, ravenous and yet the sweetest things have come about.
How did this happen?
“Jeongguk—” he starts, “—fuck me. You don’t need to say all of this.”
“But I like you. I want to make you feel good and tell you everything you’re worth hearing.”
“No,” he murmurs, blushing a scarlet color, “Fuck me. Do it. You don’t need to do that.”
Earlier, the younger mentioned Taehyung being ‘impossible’ but the truth of the matter is: Jeon Jeongguk is impossible. He’s impossible and mean and does whatever to steal Taehyung’s heart, and seizes it on every occasion. He’s a thief, basically.
“You’re impossible.”
Jeongguk smirks, satisfied with the abrupt end of their minute debate. “I’m impossible, hm?”
“So, so impossible.”
They meet in another frantic kiss, tongues colliding while their teeth clack. A small fire begins to generate around them, its embers bright as they crackle enthusiastically.
They’re uncoordinated and messy, and Taehyung’s the slightest bit startled when Jeongguk grapples at his ass with a force so dizzying, he thinks the world tilted on its axis for a second. What they were centralized on is pushed far away from their heads and the gesture stimulates a heat in his gut; something thick, heavy, flowing like molten lava. They may be intertwined in a kiss, but the kiss itself has proven to alter the atmosphere.
Eventually, they escalate to a point where Jeongguk’s smooth hands creep under the hem of Taehyung’s turtleneck, feeling the heat of his spine as he then peels it off completely, rendering him exposed and bare. The draft of air circulating around nips at his skin in an instant, rousing the light hairs of his body to stand on end. He’s weakened by Jeongguk’s expertise, and by the light tracing of his nails that run up and down the line of his back.
“Jeongguk…” he shivers from the sensation, “I missed you.” For the first time today, Taehyung reveals a vulnerable part of him he was too resentful to express. “I miss you.” So much, he doesn’t say.
Present-tense. He uses present-tense, and the latter notices.
“Angel, you’ve got me. I’m right here.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t, hyung. You’ve got me with you, okay?”
Swiftly, their positions change and it’s Jeongguk who maneuvers on top, Taehyung splayed beneath him like a shadow. He kneels to remove his own shirt, honey skin catching Taehyung’s eyes. A prominent indentation of his hips, the happy trail shepherded into the elastic band of his pants—it’s all so beautiful to look at, so he’d be a liar if he said the vision above him didn’t irregulate his breaths.
Admiring the latter for a few, he sticks out a hand to run the palm from Jeongguk’s pecs to the sculpted muscles of his stomach, moving the silver chain stuck to his chest.
How could someone be so beautiful and not know it?
“Hey…”
“Hm?”
On the pillow Taehyung lays his head on, he moves slightly to show his face a little better. “You’re beautiful,” he says as another reminder, because he thinks too much time has passed since the previous comment was entrenched and he likes the wave of pink that dusts across Jeongguk’s nose. “So beautiful, darling.”
“Hyyyyung…” a soft whine expels, “Don’t.”
“Why not? You’re so beautiful to me.”
“Says you, fuck,” and the profanity exemplifies the apparent trouble Taehyung causes Jeongguk. He scrutinizes him, eyes washing over every curve and divot on his body, and he never falters because he’s too entranced. “You’re literally the best thing—the best person—to come into my life. You’re a walking, breathing and living wet dream right now.”
Taehyung laughs at the remark. “But I’m not even completely naked yet.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jeongguk bobs his head from side-to-side in disagreement, a groan tumbling from the depths of his chest. “Doesn’t matter at all, you’re the prettiest to look at.”
How shameless.
“What are you going to do to me?” he ponders out-loud, curiosity pouring into him when fingers pry the band of his pants away, signaling him to inch his hips off the bed so they can be withdrawn. A thud echoes nearby, signifying they were thrown somewhere in the room. “What are you feeling like doing?”
It’s a safe topic to navigate through and to be honest, Taehyung particularly enjoys hearing the things that Jeongguk would like to do. What he’s interested in, what he feels like performing. It unleashes a heavy wave of arousal in his gut.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” Jeongguk says without missing a beat. “May I stretch you open?”
He doesn’t even have to ask permission.
“Go ahead,” says Taehyung, “Are you hard?”
An eager nod.
“Damn,” he elicits a breathy laugh and receives a slap on the thigh for teasing. “Already, Jeongguk-ah? From a little kiss?”
Light teasing— all in good fun, really.
“Shut up,” Jeongguk smashes his mouth against his again, knocking all oxygen from their lungs with how unexpected it is. “You got me like this. You made me hard, hyung.”
Although it’s what he’d been teased for, there’s a twitch in the elder’s boxers that’s invested in how Jeongguk feels, what he’s experiencing because of him. Plus, the way he knows how and where to touch? Taehyung would be set ablaze if he didn’t unveil some type of reaction.
“Make hyung feel good.”
Eager to get the ball rolling, Jeongguk disconnects their mouths and plants a wet kiss at the very corner of Taehyung’s lips before he presses another a little farther from there. Then, another and another, and he soon descends to the curve of his jawline where he nuzzles the patch of skin, inhaling the remnants of cologne which hadn’t dissipated yet.
In Taehyung’s head, in his brain that’s started to process white noise, he manages to perceive dark hair brush the tip of his chin as the younger male slowly but surely moves downward.
On his neck, several kisses are attached and a warm, wet stripe is licked on the column, followed by teeth latching slightly as the spot is soothed over. A mark. It’s an ordinary love-bite normally meant to instill pleasure in the most sensitive spots but with them, after a confession was made, it’s meant to inflict possession. It means Jeongguk wants people to know he’s the one who left it; he’s the one who’s got him in bed, sprawled across the sheets like a sinful angel.
Surveying each move, Taehyung’s hand entangles in Jeongguk’s hair as adrenaline courses through him the lower Jeongguk goes. A hushed exhale pervades their space when a kiss is planted on his collarbone, and then above his nipple which lips wrap around, biting the nub and resulting in a jolt reaction.
“Fuck.”
A smirk stretches out against the crevice of his chest.
It’s getting so hot in the dorm, and it’s partly because their A.C is absolute trash and does a horrid job at seeping from the vents, but it’s also caused by the intensity of what’s done. It all becomes too much in so little time, he might actually faint.
“Jeongguk-ah…”
“Yeah, baby?” a whisper slips. “You okay?”
If it were to be summarized in a short version: yes, Taehyung’s okay. In fact, he’s fucking fantastic and being given so much love - being kissed and cherished like he rightfully deserves - there’s literally nothing to complain about.
They’re perfect— he’s perfect.
Their dorm has suddenly manifested into heaven.
“I’m—” he squeaks at the fingers toying with the opposite nipple, scraping the hardened nub with a nail. He was never really sensitive there until Jeongguk discovered all these spots and subjected him to pleasure. “Oh my god…”
“What’s the matter?”
“Feels s’good.”
An additional bead of precum soaks the slit of his boxers, and as if a rain-shower of arousal splashes over him, all his senses heightened in mere minutes. Taehyung may not be fully erect, yet he’s sure getting there.
“That’s my goal, babe. Wanna make you feel good after all the stupid shit I put you through,” Jeongguk gnaws harder, pinching the nipple between his teeth before he’s trailing to the pouch of his gut. “Oh, how I love your tummy.”
As someone who appreciates his appearance and the subtle roundness of his stomach, Taehyung won’t deny how Jeongguk also loving it makes him feel giddy inside. Of course, what another person thinks about one’s self shouldn’t be important, but this is the guy who’s literally fucking the life out of him. So to know Jeongguk appreciates the unique slopes of his body - the broadness of his shoulders, sharp nose and eyebrows, slim waist, long legs, defined biceps, and soft gut? He won’t ever recover from it.
“Thank you,” he pushes out from the back of his throat, fingers perpetually scrunching strands of Jeongguk’s hair as a way to cope with himself and the sparks shot through him. However, the more the latter focuses on his upper region, the more riled he’s becoming in his boxers. “J-Jeongguk, can you please—?”
Below him, Jeongguk’s eyes flutter through a pretty set of lashes. “What?” he says, muffled. “Impatient, aren’t we?”
Luckily, he’s not too mean about it. Doesn’t let Taehyung suffer for a second more because he’s pushing down the fabric of his underwear, yanking them so they slide below his knees and chucks them behind.
From there, Taehyung’s entirely naked and Jeongguk gawks in absolute awe.
Despite having sex often, he’s shy. To be naked and exposed like this to somebody, it’s scary. It’s scary to be so open because the real him is exposed, specifically under lighting that enhances every feature.
He whispers, uncharacteristically small: “Say something.”
After a while, Taehyung suspects Jeongguk to have lost function of his brain-to-mouth filter until he gulps, adam’s apple bouncing at the base of his esophagus. “I don’t think I’ll get over how gorgeous you are.”
“G-God, don’t be such a sap. It’s just me!”
“—who I really fucking like.”
What was carefully brought up has revolved around the room, and they simply can’t avoid it. “You really…” a pause breaks the sentence, and the elder blinks back to reality and to the severity of Jeongguk’s admission, “...like me?”
“I do.” Genuine. It sounds so genuine and real and it’s like fireworks are shooting off in the distance, a myriad of colors exploding in various directions. “I like you so much, hyung.”
For a crush to reciprocate the same feelings is indescribable, although he doesn’t allude to anything about his own.
(At least, not yet.)
Jeongguk doesn’t interrogate him about whether he feels similarly, either. Instead, he leaves a final kiss on Taehyung’s stomach before retrieving a lube bottle in a nearby drawer, and Taehyung squirms when he returns to bed, crawling over and settling between his legs.
The tension, as if it wasn’t already enough, increases to the maximum degree then because everything is seen. Everything.
Nothing goes undetected, not even the shaky inflation in Taehyung’s lungs upon Jeongguk’s warm breath ghosting across his skin with how close he is. His dick twitches, curved to the flesh of his thigh.
“Are you only gonna stare at me?”
“Sorry,” Jeongguk says, sheepish, yet it’s clear he isn’t because he’s too busy marveling at him like he’s a masterpiece. “You’ve got such a pretty cock, hyung.”
Compliments are great, but when they’re directed at something so lewd and obscene such as his size, it’s a separate story of its own. By looking at himself in the mirror sometimes, Taehyung has discovered that he is well-endowed and he can’t stop from blushing furiously.
“S-Stop,” he whines in a tremulous voice, wincing at how it cracks. “Your job is to finger me, not talk about my cock like it’s art in a museum.”
Apparently, it’s the incorrect thing to say because—
“Hyung, your cock is art.”
Symphonious laughter echoes and it’s not too long until it dies when the cap of the lube pops open and the bottle is turned upside down. A decent glob pours onto the lengths of Jeongguk’s index and middle fingers, the consistency thick and glistening, and he rubs it between to warm it up.
Impatiently, Taehyung writhes on the mattress, a perceptible layer of sweat collected on the back of his head. Fascinated with where they’ll go, he doesn’t steer his attention away from Jeongguk who, with the opposite hand, fiddles with his half-hard cock and provides a quick stroke to test the waters.
With the use of precum, fortunately it’s not uncomfortable; it isn’t too dry. Nevertheless, Jeongguk borrows some lube from the other hand and utilizes it for a clean, smoother glide.
The initial squelch makes Taehyung want to hide and cover himself because okay, it’s pretty wet. It’s a sticky sound and Jeongguk laughs because he’s evil. Diabolical.
“You’re such a sloppy boy.”
The comment is indubitable and it takes every ounce of willpower for him not to release the loudest noise that’d disturb everyone on their floor.
“Shut up,” he hisses. “‘M not.”
“You’re not?”
The tip of his cock is lightly grazed and he bites on his inner cheek. Fuck, that felt good.
“Gonna blow you and finger you open, hyung,” says Jeongguk in a fair warning, so he’s not too startled when heat slips around his girth. Too bad because it happens anyway.
At eye-level with his cock, Jeongguk sweetly darts a tongue out and licks at the tip, suckling on the precum spewing from there with puckered lips. It’s insane how a single touch - a single lick - pushes Taehyung into thinking he’s suddenly skyrocketed to outer space. Jeongguk’s wanton with his actions, enveloping the crown for a couple of moments prior to lowering down, running the tip of his tongue against the frenulum and hollowing his cheeks to provide utmost pleasure.
It’s a hot, tight suction and Jeongguk hums too, sending vibrations up Taehyung’s cock and spine.
“Oh, oh, it feels so good,” he sighs in a dream-like haze, thumb sweeping across Jeongguk’s shaved sides, the short hairs tickling his finger. Subconsciously, he spreads his legs wider to provide room for him, and he’s stuck between wanting to look away because it’s too intense of a moment, and then staring directly into Jeongguk’s hooded eyes, allowing himself to experience the innate heat resulted from such a salacious act. “Yeah, baby. Suck my cock.”
Around him, Jeongguk smirks and lowers further so Taehyung can graze the back of his throat and fuck—
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
To give during sex is one thing, but to lay on the receiving end? He’s bound to burst; bound to melt into an immense pile of putty. Jeongguk’s mouth is hot, sloppy, and he’s letting all his spit run to the front to make it extra wet.
A shrill gasp breaks out and his legs tremble pitifully. They threaten to close Jeongguk in on the same spot, though he nudges them back open with his shoulders because he’s determined to make a meal out of him.
And Taehyung?
He’s going to pass away, right here, right now, all thanks to him.
In a muddle of gratification, he’d nearly forgotten about the compromise-- a blunt tip of a digit prodding at his empty hole, but Taehyung welcomes it because it’s not a want, it’s a need to be fucked. Precise with his movements, Jeongguk fortifies that he’s not too slow to lose the fun while additionally ensuring he’s not too fast where it’s an uncomfortable feeling. No, he’s conscious and kind, letting his mouth be the cause of Taehyung’s curled toes as he circles the ring of muscle in succession.
Taehyung hears the latter swallow around his cock and feels his finger beginning to breach him. At first, there’s light resistance with the intrusion, so Jeongguk runs it in a circle again before making a second attempt when this time, Taehyung’s hole willingly accepts.
Amused, Jeongguk snickers and gradually slips it into the hilt - until his knuckle is the sole part that sticks out and the tattoo greets him when he looks down to check.
“Shit,” Taehyung mewls because it’s in him and he’d missed it so much. Missed Jeongguk, missed when they were on good terms. Missed when they weren’t arguing and all they did was cherish each other. “Oh god, what the fuck?”
The ceiling fan above whirs at a resounding speed, and it suffices to cool the perspiration building from beneath the surface of his skin, albeit temporary. He laughs, not ever having the nerve to believe what’s occurring; figuring he’s in a super vivid dream where Jeongguk’s sucking him off and stretching him so he’s prepared for his cock.
They were on the verge of losing their friendship and yet, here they are.
“Relax,” Jeongguk hums to calm him, pulling off with an absurd pop. “Tae…” and he realizes a lack of honorifics and corrects himself: “Taehyung-hyung, I’ve got you. Relax. Let yourself enjoy this.”
The younger’s finger coaxes him open and he pulls out to join back in with two digits like the finger-fucking expert he is. They curl and push, twisting around to make him loose and since he’s gotten so overwhelmed, Taehyung cannot contain it for longer. It unwinds and drifts into the open space of their dorm:
“J-Jeongguk, I’m so—I’m in love with you.”
For reasons unknown, he presumed to have said it in a lighter voice, but that’s false when all movement halts. There’s two fingers shoved deep inside his asshole, unmoving as a sharp breath batters against the crevice of his thigh.
Shit.
“What?”
He can’t deny it.
“I’m in love with you.”
It’s as if an extreme weight has lifted from his body, letting him go unscathed. He’s kind of proud of himself for not holding it back or trying to change the topic or asking to go down on Jeongguk so as to prevent the conversation.
In essence, Taehyung’s in love with Jeongguk and he’d been a fool for not sharing that bit of information when Jeongguk did.
(It’s cowardice, sue him.)
“You’re in love with me?”
“Y-Yes,” he whispers, then squeals when Jeongguk jumps up to attack and litter his face with kisses. His fingers are still plugged up his ass, though.
“You’re fucking in love with me and you felt a need to share it just now? When I’m stretching you open?” Jeongguk laughs, and Taehyung laughs too because yeah. That’s precisely it. “Listen, we’re going to have a serious talk after this, but may I please keep going and fuck you? You’re poking against my abdomen and my goal is to make you feel good.”
“Okay.” When Jeongguk goes to peck him on the nose, he grips his forearm, says: “You don’t have to use a condom. You can cum inside me.” Then he giggles when Jeongguk’s eyes practically wedge themselves in the back of his skull and he whispers a profanity before resuming his previous ministrations, wrist snapping against his ass.
In total, it takes three fingers for Taehyung to finally decide he’s had enough prep. That he’s ready for it, ready to be splayed on Jeongguk’s fat cock throbbing in his hand when he reaches to jerk it. (The younger male had been neglected and he deserves to feel good, too.)
And it’d be like every other occasion they’ve done it, except intense feelings are involved. Well, they were always there, but they’d been repressed and unspoken by the both of them.
With that said, Taehyung can’t be blamed for getting excited, heart racing ridiculously fast as it thumps up against his ribcage, threatening to dislodge from its chambers. He physically cannot stop the smile that rises to his mouth, nor the hitch in his breath when Jeongguk slips his hands under the crooks of his legs, nudging them upward so his knees are to his pecs. He’s relatively flexible, so it’s easy to be shifted into position.
Jeongguk must find it incredibly hot with how he groans.
“Can you repeat what you said earlier?”
“Huh?” Taehyung blinks in confusion. “What— like, when I confessed?”
Jeongguk nods, nimble digits tightening on him as he frantically nods. “Y-Yeah, yes please. I’d like to hear it again from you.”
It hits him that Jeongguk requires validation; to hear it over and over because he’s probably spiraling, probably too caught up in the bad stuff that it’s almost surreal to know it’s mutual. To him, it probably feels fake.
To proffer conviction and sincerity, Taehyung loops his forearms around his neck and pulls Jeongguk in, mouths centimeters from meeting. He wears a grin, eyes darting back and forth from the twinkle in his irises to the unexpected ‘o’ morphing on his lips.
“I fucking like you,” he states, “I like you, I’m in love with you and I was so silly for making you jealous over Minho.”
Jeongguk lets out a soft snicker: “I’m equally as silly then, because I should’ve taken you aside before the event and I shouldn’t have acted like a dick to you or him anyway. He didn’t do anything to me.”
“It’s okay,” Taehyung murmurs and runs the rear of his knuckles upon the scar on Jeongguk’s cheek. “Like, it isn’t technically okay what we both did - because I’m in the wrong as well - but I’m kinda over it. Kinda over crying and getting frustrated.”
“Baby...” sorrow clings to the pet name. “Oh my god, baby, you cried?”
He did. On the second night, Taehyung had trouble resting and became so antsy, he cried himself to sleep. It never helped with Jeongguk gone.
Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut, tries to move his clothed cock away from Taehyung’s ass because none of their conversation is remotely sexual. He’s remorseful, but it’s okay. It’s fine.
“I’m really sorry,” he vows. “I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d be so upset, let alone cry.”
“Oh, you’re not special,” jokes Taehyung, “Part of the reason was because I was too exhausted and my eyes were closed for thirty minutes when I figured I wasn’t going to sleep.”
“Because of me,” Jeongguk mumbles, to which Taehyung lifts his chin and kisses him square on the mouth. “Hyung...”
“You wanna make it up to me?”
“Yes, please.”
“Fuck me,” he says, “I’m yours.”
Fortunately, those phrases together spur Jeongguk to move. To bestow the necessary energy in undressing his lower half, erection slapping against his stomach as his pants and boxers no longer restrain him. No matter how many opportunities the elder’s gotten to see him stripped, he’ll always sit in admiration, in visceral excitement because Jeon Jeongguk’s a literal god.
So fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect.
Obliging, Jeongguk lines himself up at Taehyung’s rim, the blunt head of his cock nudging slightly. He doesn’t push in- he stays there, jaw unhinged as he observes the contrast between them, the ring of muscle yielding to the intrusion.
Without a doubt, it’s both divine and torturous.
“Never thought a hole could be this pretty,” says Jeongguk, dumbstruck, and he holds himself between two fingers, dipping the head in and pulling out before Taehyung can bask in the thickness. He may like Jeongguk, though having a crush on him won’t exempt Jeongguk from being a jerk.
It’s a stressful predicament.
“Stick it in,” comes the demand, abrupt and harsh without being intended to. “God, sorry, I’m just—you’re teasing me. I’m literally a second from rolling over and stuffing my fingers up my ass to fuck myself.”
“Have you no manners?” Jeongguk sticks his tongue out playfully, and the necklace he wears falls forward, cool against Taehyung’s collarbones. “I got distracted. Your hole’s pretty.”
As if to attest to his promise of getting ‘distracted,’ he strokes Taehyung’s balls and trails his fingers to his hole where he rubs the area in which they’re joined at.
Taehyung breaks out in a small shiver. He wishes there were a mirror on the ceiling so he could see how good they look together from this particular angle.
Squishing the elder’s thigh, Jeongguk applies a decent coating of lube on his shaft and lines himself at his hole, then pushes inside where the tip of his cock is fervently swallowed. In unison, they moan, and it blows Taehyung’s mind out of the field at how he can never get accustomed to his girth and what it feels like to be split apart. What’s building up the heat is the fact that they’re not separated by anything; there’s no rubber to keep them apart and Jeongguk—
Jeongguk’s going to cum in him.
That’s so fucking hot.
He whimpers as the aforementioned male buries in, hands not understanding where to go or what to grab on. He could yank at his own hair, or Jeongguk’s, but he doesn’t compute these options because there’s a fat cock inside of him and he’s becoming far too lightheaded.
“Oh god,” he says shakily, looking down at the strain in Jeongguk’s abs as he nudges in until Taehyung’s ass is compressed on his pelvis. It’s in him, and he’s dizzy and he burns from the inside out.
Jeongguk nods, palm planted on the mattress as he pulls out and pushes back in, completely throwing himself and Taehyung off. “Christ, Tae,” he grits through teeth, “Your fucking hole’s so tight. I stretched you and you’re still clinging onto my cock.”
Embarrassingly hard with the commentary, Taehyung arches his back into a pretty bow and clings onto him for dear life. “S-Shit.”
After letting him adjust for a bit as he stills into place, Jeongguk retracts his hips and drives them forward, slamming into a delicious tight heat and walls that eagerly swallow him. Then, he starts to thrust in a ceaseless rate, one with enough strength to pull Taehyung across the bed and rustle him about on the sheets.
The elder stuffs his mouth with his fingers, too afraid to release them because he’ll definitely be loud, and they can’t afford to get in trouble.
Ruthless, Jeongguk chuckles to himself at the frantic skin-on-skin slapping, how Taehyung’s hole froths with lube. He’s wild and messy, and causes a distinct ringing in Taehyung’s eardrums.
“J-Jeongguk,” he mewls between his digits, eyes glossy as he bounces up and down on the bed. “Harder, harder- it’s yours. I’m yours.”
“It’s mine?” the hands on him squeeze tighter where it might leave bruises the following day. “Are you mine, hyung?”
The concept of being Jeongguk’s makes his walls clench and he’s being fucked so good, so deep, he might go insane. “Yours,” he repeats, legs jostling above his head, and the pressure behind Taehyung’s knees from where Jeongguk grips on increases. “It’s yours, fuck. Fuck, like that. Your cock feels so good.”
“And I’m yours,” the declaration goes straight to Taehyung’s dick, pushing out another filthy driblet of precum as it wets his stomach. “This cock’s all yours, baby. Fuck.”
For the umpteenth time, the air is knocked out of their lungs and Taehyung zones out to the noisy squelch of Jeongguk’s balls pummeling against his ass.
He’s kind of in love with the tempo they’re at, that Jeongguk’s obliterating him and claiming title of ‘best fuck in Taehyung’s life.’ It’s messy, loud, dirty, and it’s making the duvet crinkle and Taehyung’s pretty cherry earrings swing. The accessories jingle and he’s dying because it indicates how well he’s getting fucked.
“You good?”
Sliding a hand over Jeongguk’s shoulder, Taehyung squeezes the muscle and softly bites on his knee in front of him. “G-Good,” he groans. “So, so, good. You’re mine, Jeongguk.”
The other grunts, a primal look in his eye and he fucks as if he’s liberating their tension through his cock. “Yours, and y-you’re mine. All for me.”
At some point in time, Jeongguk releases his legs, permitting them to be a metaphorical belt as they attach at his waist, heels nudging him at the base of his spine and shoving him deeper. The angle is exceptional, inducing a dribble of spit to stream from Taehyung’s lips. He pounds into him so fucking good, Taehyung nearly forgets what date it is and why they were mad to begin with.
The squelches grow louder and he cries out, eyelids screwing shut. “You’re s’big, shit.”
Jeongguk grumbles an indecipherable sentence - or really, it’s that Taehyung isn’t paying too much attention to what’s said because with each thrust delivered, his prostate is targeted and he’s delirious. He can’t focus on anything except for the simmering in his gut.
It’s not appropriate to think about, but Minho—and any guy he’s fucked with—are incomparable to Jeongguk. They’ve got nothing on him, therefore it’d be comical to put them on the same pedestal.
Jeongguk’s the one.
Jeongguk’s the only one for him.
“You’re gonna feel me for days,” a promise seeps through the fog accumulated in Taehyung’s brain, Jeongguk determined to fulfill it as his hips piston at the perfect angle and speed. Under the light of their dorm, the latter glistens, his pendant chain swinging back and forth over his torso, and it’s what Taehyung stares at as his entire body curls in on itself. “Can’t imagine being with anyone else. I-I don’t want anybody else.”
“I’m so—I’m so in love with you,” says Taehyung, intertwining their hands, every gesture sweet, passionate and drenched in yearning. “You’re i-incredible.”
They meet in a sloppy kiss and it’s electrifying. Magnetic.
“W-Wait, fuck—” implores Jeongguk with a moan, “Hyung, fuck, fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”
“‘S okay, do it,” he nods rapidly, wavy hair jumping off his forehead. The mattress’ springs squeak and he realizes now they were creating obnoxious sounds. Fuck; hopefully the people on their floor don’t fucking kill them. “‘S okay, you can cum inside of me.” He sniffles and sends a huge smile both endearing and nasty. “Let it spill out of my ass, Jeongguk-ah.”
It has to be the sexiest thing Jeongguk’s heard because he staggers then, pelvis snapping one final time before he spills inside of Taehyung. He cums hard and deep, falling over him with a sigh as he wracks through the aftermath of his orgasm. His figure shakes and he gasps for air, grabbing Taehyung’s hips for purchase and stability.
When he’s able to come down from his high, then, Jeongguk slips a hand over Taehyung’s shaft and he utilizes the precum for a swift glide. His wrist flicks laboriously and he plays with the bead oozing from the slit because it’s sticky and wet, and he enjoys the control it has over the elder’s twitching thighs.
“Go on, pretty. Cum for me,” he encourages, pumping faster, and Taehyung swears it’s an out-of-body experience, spirit projecting into neither here nor there as his balls draw in, cock twitching as he cums an obscene amount. Strings of white spurt on his belly and it’s so much, so fucking much that Taehyung erupts in a broken, silenced cry and he pulls Jeongguk into his sweaty body, hugging him for comfort. “Babe, are you okay?”
“Fine,” he murmurs after a while, “Took a lot of energy from me, I don’t think—I’m going to have trouble walking tomorrow.”
Jeongguk chuckles: “My dick’s that good, huh?”
“Ugh, don’t get cocky.”
After they’ve regulated their breathing, Jeongguk fetches a packet of wipes conveniently stored in the nightstand to clean Taehyung. He wipes his stomach down, clears the dribble of cum spilling from his asshole, and tosses it in the trashcan before flopping next to him.
Automatically they shift into their spooning positions and Taehyung doesn’t complain when Jeongguk throws a leg over his waist, scooping him close so he presses into his firm chest.
“So...”
“We’ve gotta talk.”
“Yeah, we do.”
Taehyung peers over and frowns. “I’m sorry for trying to get a reaction out of you; what I did was stupid. I never told you about Minho because I never thought it mattered. He‘s in the past, he happened before us and I want you to understand: he could never replace you. You’re my boy, Jeongguk-ah. My boy. And I like you so much, I may have ranted about you to Jimin and he’s currently rooting for us to get our shit together.”
Jeongguk processes the details and smooches his cheek. “And I’m very sorry, too,” he says, “Really fucking sorry. I acted immature, irrational and I think what worsened everything was the fake dating ordeal. I understand you were down to make my mother happy, but I got so caught up in it, I grew a little possessive and jealous when you ran to Minho.” Quietly, he laughs. “Oh god, he seemed like a nice guy.”
“He is,” Taehyung murmurs, “Not as nice as you. I’m really, truly, ridiculously sorry.”
“Me too, hyung.”
Beginning tendrils of exhaustion makes Taehyung’s eyes slowly close on him. “Could we discuss some more later? I’m tired and want to take a nap.”
“Sure. Whatever you’d like.”
They fall into a lacuna of silence where Taehyung naturally tries to sleep until Jeongguk stifles a giggle: “Say hyung, do you wanna come to my parents’ place again? Third time’s a charm?”
“What?! You haven’t even asked me to be your boyfriend.”
“Well, it’s not too late,” Jeongguk says. “Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”
Taehyung grins hard then, cheeks bunched and heart pounding in his ears. So, this is what it’s like… “Absolutely,” he hums, “I guess you’re officially mine.”
“And you’re mine, hyung. Come give me a little kiss.”
►
Jeongguk hasn’t been in many actual, established relationships.
Before, he’d find himself entangled in between someone’s legs who he’s known for quite some time (or some hot person at a bar) but it wouldn’t go farther than physical intimacy. The same rule applied for him and Taehyung until, with the help of talking it out and them not being at each other’s throats like they did, he finally gets to date the man of his dreams.
He kind of despises how long it took him to realize (as they could’ve dated earlier and the issue itself could’ve been avoided, and nobody’s feelings would’ve gone through the wringer), but Taehyung reminds him it doesn’t matter when they started, what matters most is that they’re together until the end.
A month has passed since he popped the important question. A month since they’d gotten in over their heads and apologized for what they’d done. The concept of time astonishes him because now, as he lays on his parent’s couch, he gets to watch Taehyung and his parents play a fun game of charades.
He isn’t participating because he’s busy rubbing Gureum’s belly, but he does keep his eyes on the elder who laughs and doubles over with each guess being thrown out.
Glancing over at the stopwatch, Jeongguk announces: “...Aaaaand time!”
“Aw!” Sooyeon frowns in disappointment, “What was it?”
Taehyung grabs the random paper they’d scribbled things on and flips it so they’re able to see. Jeongguk smiles then.
Holy fuck.
That’s actually his boyfriend.
It’s so surreal to say it, to conceive the thought. They’d went from fucking to fake-dating to actually getting together, and his parents are playing with him and took him in with open arms.
When it’s Jaehyuk’s opportunity to act, Taehyung retreats to Jeongguk and covers his face when Jeongguk keeps staring at him. “What? Is there something on me?”
“Nothing, ‘s just- I fuckin’ love you.”
To think that all it took was a bit of communication...