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I. Namjoon
Taehyung’s been arrested.
“What,” Namjoon says blankly into his phone. “What do you mean, arrested -- ”
“Hyung,” says Taehyung, “it’s fine, I just never paid a ticket.”
“Arrested,” repeats Namjoon. Panic starts to surge in his chest. He quashes it, just as he always does. Any problem can be solved. You just have to know where to start. “Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Okay, we can handle this. I’m going to call Bang PD-nim first, he’ll know the technical and PR aspects. Are you okay? Are they keeping you in a cell? How are you calling?” He pauses, thinking. There are going to be legal components to this, not including the way they’re going to have to spin the story. “Are they holding you there? Hang on, let me call the lawyer -- ”
“Namjoon,” interrupts Taehyung, “I promise, it’s okay, you don’t need to panic -- ”
“I’m not panicking,” says Namjoon, which is only half a lie. “Okay, I think the best way to spin this is just the truth, you didn’t pay a ticket. That’s not that bad, that happens. But don’t quote me on that until we talk to a publicist. What station are you in? I’m going to call the police chief, he deserves to be briefed, this is going to get attention -- ”
There’s a rustling sound on the other end.
“Mr. Kim?” comes a voice. “Namjoon?” It’s raspier and lighter than Taehyung’s. Namjoon wonders if it’s a kidnapper, if there’s been some kind of ransom situation he needs to resolve -- that’s fine, they have the funds, he’ll get those taken care of --
“Speaking,” says Namjoon.
“This is Officer Song, Taehyung gave me the phone because, quote, ‘He’ll worry less if he hears it from you.’”
“I see,” says Namjoon. “And what did he say?”
Officer Song clears his throat. “He says -- ‘don’t worry, I’m handling it. Thank you for trying to take care of me.’” There’s more rustling, and Namjoon hears a low whisper, presumably Taehyung. “He also says he loves you.”
Color floods Namjoon’s cheeks, warmth in his chest. “Thank you for your patience, Officer Song, and for relaying the message.” He scans the dorm for his shoes and jacket, previously discarded. “Would you please let Taehyung know I’m on my way?”
+++
II. Jimin
Taehyung’s been arrested.
“I’m fine, Jiminie,” he assures him. “Just forgot to pay a ticket. It’s fine.”
Jimin knows that happens, knows it’s fine, all things considered, but he also knows how very not fine it is, how very not good this situation is going to be.
“I’m going to go get Namjoon-hyung,” says Jimin. “And we’ll figure it out. Okay?”
He hears Taehyung sigh on the other end. “Okay.” There’s a long pause. “Jimin, are you still there?”
Jimin switches his phone to his other ear, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. “Yeah, of course.”
“Don’t be mad at me?” Taehyung says. “I know this is stupid -- ”
“I’m not mad,” says Jimin, which is true. It’s hard to ever get really mad at Taehyung, even when he winds up getting himself arrested. “I’m not mad, Taehyungie. Just want you to come home soon.”
“I will,” says Taehyung. “It’s fine, Jimin. Really.”
Jimin takes a long breath. “I don’t like,” he says, “when you make me worry like this.”
He hears Taehyung swallow on the other end. “I know. I’ll talk to you soon.”
There’s a click, and the phone goes dead.
Jimin spends the next several hours wearing the rug in his bedroom thin with pacing. Jin forces him to eat something, which he does, begrudgingly, only after Jin sits in his doorway and refuses to move until he’s finished.
Namjoon and Bang PD-nim get it all worked out in the end, like they always do. Taehyung comes home several hours later, looking sheepish, Namjoon behind him, looking pissed and worried, his lower jaw pushed forward.
Taehyung looks around the room and spots Jimin, heat flaring into his cheeks. Jimin runs to him, seizing his face, and kisses him straight on the mouth.
“You’re such a dumbass,” he says, and then shoves him backward. Taehyung looks mollified, a little worried, uncertain. “Come on,” says Jimin, grabbing him by the hand. “You need to shower and change. You look disgusting. God.”
When he glances behind him, Taehyung is smiling.
+++
III. Hoseok
Taehyung’s been arrested.
He does not call Hoseok, which doesn’t offend him so much as miff him. He calls Namjoon, who wearily takes down notes, nodding into his phone with abbreviated sounds of assent. After a long moment he says, “Yeah. He’s right here,” and offers the phone to Hoseok, arm outstretched.
Hoseok grabs the phone perhaps a little quickly. “Tae?”
“Hi,” says Taehyung. He sounds amused. Irritation flares in Hoseok’s chest.
“Hi,” he says, trying to sound neutral.
“So Namjoon told you,” says Taehyung.
“Yes,” says Hoseok. He worries with the sleeve of his shirt. “Can you please come home soon?”
“I’m going to,” says Taehyung. “Namjoon’s got it worked out. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m not -- worried,” says Hoseok, which is only partly a lie. Taehyung has a habit of getting in and out of scrapes with consistency and flair. But of course he worries. Of course he worries about Taehyung. There’s something precious and soft in his soul, something he hopes will never be extinguished. And he’s not irresponsible, not really, but sometimes he’s young. Not that Hoseok is that much older, but -- Taehyung’s calling him from a police station, and he doesn’t sound at all concerned about it. He’s always doing things like this -- like ending up hours away and needing to be picked up in Norway, for example. He’d been perfectly happy to take photos, but everyone else had worried. Hoseok had worried.
“Well, are you mad?” asks Taehyung.
That’s a complicated question, one Hoseok never knows how to answer. J-Hope is not mad. J-Hope thinks this is funny, will rib Taehyung for this when he gets back, will keep Namjoon’s spirits up with a funny song while Namjoon deals with the aftermath of this all.
But Jung Hoseok is a little mad. A little mad that Taehyung called Namjoon, not him, a little mad that he’s unashamed, a little mad that Hoseok can’t do anything but sit on his hands.
“Maybe,” says Hoseok, which is as honest as he can be.
There’s a pause on the other end. “I’ll make it up to you,” Taehyung says.
Hoseok makes a noise of dismissal. “You don’t have to make it up to me,” he says. “It’s not about me.”
He can practically hear the face Taehyung is making, nose scrunched up in distaste. “Well,” he says, voice low, “it’s about you to me.”
Hoseok’s not sure what to make of that. “Just get home,” he says. “And we’ll talk about it.”
He gives the phone back to Namjoon, who tells Taehyung that he and Bang PD-nim will be on their way soon. And then he hangs up.
Hoseok doesn’t like being angry. He’s never been good at it, has always preferred letting things go to letting them stew. But he’s a little angry, and he’s a little angry that he’s a little angry.
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon offers, but Hoseok shakes his head.
“It’s not -- it’s like what I told him. It’s not about me.”
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced, but he also doesn’t push the subject.
Hoseok can’t sleep that night when Taehyung’s not home yet, so he sits on the dorm couch watching movies, barely absorbing the images as they skate across his vision.
Taehyung returns just after midnight. Hoseok can hear him enter through the front door, talking quietly to Namjoon.
“ -- I don’t know if it’s -- you know,” he’s saying.
Namjoon makes a muted sound. “No, I think it’s good. There’s a vase, up there -- ”
There’s the quiet sound of clinking, then a louder sound as dishes in the kitchen start to rattle together.
“You know,” says Hoseok loudly, “you two are the worst at being subtle.”
There’s silence in the kitchen before Taehyung pokes his head out.
“Hyung,” he says. “Hang on. One second.”
Hoseok rolls his eyes but doesn’t get up. There’s a little more clattering, a few more whispers from Namjoon to Taehyung and vice versa, and then Taehyung emerges, holding a vase full of flowers, bright yellow, Hoseok’s favorite color.
“Hi,” says Taehyung, holding them in front of himself like a bouquet.
There’s a suspicious lump in Hoseok’s throat. “Hey, Tae.”
“I know you said I didn’t have to make it up to you,” says Taehyung, “but I wanted to anyway. I’m sorry. I should’ve called you, I just didn’t want you to worry, I thought I could get it all sorted with Namjoon so that if I talked to you, I could say, don’t worry, I have a plan, or something.” He takes a breath. “I don’t like when you worry about me.”
Behind him, Namjoon coughs quietly. Taehyung ignores him, going to sit next to Hoseok on the couch. He hands him the flowers.
Hoseok touches the petals of one, and then the soft hair at the back of Taehyung’s neck.
“Just -- don’t get arrested again, okay?” he says. “For me?”
Taehyung nestles his head onto Hoseok’s shoulder. “Okay,” he says, and he’s smiling softly. “For you.”
+++
IV. Jungkook
Taehyung’s been arrested.
He calls Jungkook, just to let him know.
Jungkook stares at the wall for five full seconds before responding. “Arrested?” he asks. “Like, how?”
“I didn’t pay a ticket,” says Taehyung breezily. “I just forgot about it, it’s a whole thing.”
“Arrested,” repeats Jungkook. “Like, arrested arrested. With handcuffs.”
“Yeah,” says Taehyung. He sounds cheerful. “But you know I don’t mind them.”
Jungkook coughs, nearly dropping his phone. “Hyung.” A ticket. Surely that’s not so bad. “So, what. You can just pay it, right? This isn’t a big deal?” He means it to come out as more a declarative statement rather than a question, but he’s not sure. Taehyung seems okay.
“Aw,” says Taehyung, pleased. “You’re fretting. Don’t worry, Kook-ah. It’ll be completely fine.”
Jungkook exhales. “Okay. Okay, good. So I’ll see you when you get back. I’ll talk to you then -- ”
“Kook,” interrupts Taehyung quickly, “Jungkook it’s not that fine, I need you to help me, oh, my God -- ”
“You said it was fine!” says Jungkook, feeling embarrassed. Heat creeps into his cheeks. “You just said, ‘it’ll be completely fine,’ how was I supposed to know -- ”
“I have been arrested, Jungkook!” says Taehyung. “Arrested! Did you think I was just popping in to chat, just an FYI -- ”
“Well, that’s how you made it sound!”
Taehyung’s laughing, Jungkook realizes. “You’re so stupid,” Taehyung says, but he sounds fond. “Can you get Namjoon for me?”
The heat that had been spreading into Jungkook’s face now eases into warmth. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course. Lemme go -- lemme find him.”
“Thanks, Kook.” He pauses. “You know I love you, right?”
Jungkook bites his lip. “You’d better,” he says, and Taehyung laughs again, the sound warm and full.
+++
V. Jin
Taehyung’s been arrested.
Jin can hardly believe it. He’s hearing it from Taehyung himself, and yet he can’t believe it. Of all the stupid, stupid things in the world, Taehyung had gotten arrested for not paying a ticket, he’s so dumb --
“You are a moron,” says Jin hotly. He’s standing in the dorm kitchen, lunch on the stove. “You are a fucking -- you are so stupid.”
“Okay, okay,” says Taehyung. “I know. I know, it’s dumb.”
“No, no,” says Jin, throwing onion into the pan. It sizzles. “No, you do not understand the depths of this idiocy. You cannot possibly fathom the sheer size of your complete ineptitude in this moment, Taehyung. Oh, my God. I’m here cooking dak-galbi and thinking, gosh. Where could Taehyung be? And you call to let me know that you have been arrested. For not paying a ticket.”
Taehyung’s silent for a moment. When he speaks, he sounds amused. “Are you finished? I could’ve called Namjoon, you know -- ”
“You should have called Namjoon, if you didn’t want me to react this way!” says Jin, stirring with one hand. “I have lunch on and now this is going to be my whole day. I was going to eat this delicious food and then play League of Legends, and now it’s going to be ‘Un-Arrest Taehyung Day.’ I had plans, you know. I had dreams. I had vision.”
“Okay,” says Taehyung, sounding like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. “Okay, sorry for ruining your vision, hyung.”
“Someday when I’m sent to an early grave, no matter how I die I want you listed on my death certificate as the cause of my demise. ‘Cause of Death: Kim Taehyung,’ it’ll say, and no one will fault me for it when I remind them of this very day.”
“You’re coming back from the dead to tell people about this?” asks Taehyung.
Jin thinks about it. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll haunt you as a zombie.”
“That’s not how zombies work,” says Taehyung. There’s a sound, and then he returns. “Officer Song says I have to get off the phone if this isn’t an important call.”
“It’s very important, you need to know you’re a fool,” says Jin. “But fine. Can you please put Officer Song on the phone?”
“Sure,” says Taehyung. There’s a moment of hesitation. “But you will -- you will help me out, won’t you, hyung?”
Jin closes his eyes for a moment, picturing Taehyung at the police station, handcuffs on his delicate wrists.
“Of course,” he says. “When have I ever not helped you out?”
“Never,” agrees Taehyung. “You’ve always been there.”
“Right,” says Jin. There’s something tingling in his chest, light and effervescent. “Care about your dumb ass. Put Officer Song on.”
He can hear Taehyung smile just before there’s a brief rustle.
“Officer Song speaking.”
“Hi,” says Jin brightly. “I’m sorry, I want you to know that Kim Taehyung is an absolute idiot. I love him very much. Don’t go easy on him, he needs to toughen up a bit. Throw him in the gulag, or whatever.”
“That’s not exactly what we do here,” says Officer Song.
“I’m just saying,” continues Jin, “that you should treat him as you would a hardened criminal.”
“I’m not going to do that,” says Officer Song with something like laughter in his voice.
“Okay, well, treat him however you see fit,” says Jin. “One of my associates will be there shortly to sort this whole thing out, but I want to make sure he’s getting as much growth as possible in that time.”
“I see,” says Officer Song. “Should I relay this message to Mr. Kim?”
“No need,” says Jin, turning the pan off on the stove. He looks at his poor, neglected onions. “I’ll be there soon enough.”
The things he does for love.
+++
VI. Yoongi
Taehyung’s been arrested.
He relays this news to Yoongi over the phone in a careful voice, like he’s not sure how Yoongi will respond. Or, actually -- like he knows how Yoongi will respond, and he knows it will be poorly.
It’s a safe bet. Yoongi is pretty pissed.
“I just wanted to tell you first,” says Taehyung. “So then I can talk to Namjoon and get it all squared away. I just wanted -- you to -- know.”
“Right,” says Yoongi. He tries to keep his voice measured, nails biting into the palm of his left hand. “Okay, well, that’s fine then. Have you spoken to our lawyers yet?”
Taehyung hesitates. “Not yet.”
“Okay. You should do that too, probably. Just to be certain.”
“It’s not a big deal,” says Taehyung, sounding unconvincing. “It’s not like -- it was just a ticket.”
“I know,” says Yoongi.
Taehyung sounds soft and vulnerable when he says, “Yoongi -- are you -- are you mad?”
Yoongi thinks about lying, but he tries not to, on principle. He doesn’t want Taehyung, of all people, to doubt where he stands.
“Yeah, Tae,” says Yoongi, exhaling, long and slow. “But it’s fine. We’ll talk about it later. I want you to get out of -- I want you to come back, first. And we’ll talk about it.”
“Okay,” says Taehyung. He sounds very small.
“I don’t hate you,” says Yoongi. “I’m just mad.”
“I know,” says Taehyung. “I just don’t like when you’re mad at me.”
Then don’t get arrested, thinks Yoongi, which isn’t helpful. Don’t call me just as I’m getting ready to go to sleep to let me know you’ve gotten arrested for something stupid.
Yoongi’s worked hard to get where he is. Not that the others haven’t. Not that Taehyung hasn’t. But Yoongi holds himself -- holds them all -- to certain standards. Standards that don’t include Taehyung casually forgetting to pay a ticket, ending up at the police station, calling Yoongi and Namjoon to somehow fix it. Standards that don’t involve them crawling to Bang PD-nim to say, no, sorry, Taehyung’s been arrested, he called us first so we could let you know, like some kind of carrier pigeon. Was too scared to tell you himself.
So he’s a little mad at Taehyung, sure. He’s a little mad that this whole thing happened, that they’re going to deal with the outcome of this. That he, Yoongi, is in the place of having to console Taehyung for fucking up to begin with.
Anger crawls inside Yoongi sometimes, uncomfortable but familiar. He tries not to ever let it rub off on Taehyung. But sometimes he’s not sure how much anger is warranted. He tries to treat Taehyung like Taehyung treats him, but Taehyung’s so easygoing sometimes that Yoongi knows he’ll never be able to reach that. It’s just him and his imperfect heart, trying to figure out how to love Taehyung the best he can.
“I’ll see you soon,” says Yoongi. “I’ll see you soon, and we’ll talk about it all then, okay?”
He hates himself for adding the okay at the end, hates him for turning it into a question. But that’s how it is, sometimes. That’s how love feels to Yoongi: asking a question you know the answer to, but asking it anyway.
“Okay,” says Taehyung. “Can you -- can you get Namjoon?”
Yoongi’s fallen asleep by the time Taehyung gets back, Namjoon in tow. He only knows he’s returned because there’s a quiet rap on his door, followed by Taehyung squeezing silently into Yoongi’s room. He only stirs when Taehyung slips into bed next to him, throwing an arm around his waist.
“I’m home,” says Taehyung as Yoongi wakes.
“Good,” he says, getting his bearings. Taehyung smells strange and foreign but still like himself, which is somehow comforting.
“Are you still mad?”
Yoongi shifts. “A little.”
“How little?” asks Taehyung. He reaches out for Yoongi’s hand, slipping it inside Yoongi’s grasp. “Like, a little little?”
Yoongi moves infinitesimally closer to Taehyung. “A little more than a little little, but only a little.”
“Okay,” says Taehyung. He rests his chin on top of Yoongi’s head. “I can deal with that.”
“Good,” says Yoongi. “Now can you please be quiet, I’d like to sleep. Someone disturbed me just as I was getting ready for bed tonight.”
He feels Taehyung’s smile on the crown of his head, and then he falls back asleep.
+++