Work Text:
[12:18am]
Jungkook sighs, standing in front of the apartment and fumbling in his pockets for the keys. Maybe it’s because of the fierce cold that pierces his skin till he’s numb, but it only occurs to Jungkook a minute later that Taehyung always left the door unlocked on nights Jungkook worked late, by which time any warmth Jungkook had accumulated from the brisk walk home has evaporated into the storming sky. The end of October rain beats down hard on Jungkook as he stands out in the street and tries to wrestle his umbrella close. It’s cold, so impossibly cold that Jungkook is trembling just a little and it’s all he can do not to curse out loud for forgetting to take a jacket to work with him, despite the fact that Taehyung had reminded him about four times between breakfast and his rush to prevent Taehyung using up all the hot water in the morning shower alone.
Taehyung is warm, though. He’s always warm. It’s the best thing to come home to. Every single time, Taehyung is the best thing.
The umbrella gives way at last, clicking shut almost submissively after the fight it had been putting up so far and by the time Jungkook twists the knob and steps into the apartment, he’s soaked to the bone. He’s making a mental list already; new umbrella, granola bars so that Taehyung snacks on something other than morning cereal, rake that sad patch of grass they call a backyard, fix the leak in their tap that’s been driving Taehyung crazy for months now. It’s a game Jungkook plays, entertaining himself with thoughts of things he’d said he would get around to doing someday even though he knows he won’t. It was one of the things about being an adult; still being an irresponsible teenager.
The silence in the apartment is still and suffocating and even though Jungkook thinks that maybe he shouldn’t make any noise and just let Taehyung sleep, he knows Taehyung better than that. There’s a Taehyung that waits up on Jungkook no matter how late working hours get (Jungkook insists Taehyung get a full eight hours of sleep in lieu of him), and a Taehyung that disliked rainstorms.
Taehyung definitely isn’t asleep.
“Jungkook?”
The small voice sounds through the empty apartment and Jungkook’s heart leaps. Of course Taehyung is still awake. of course Taehyung’s forgotten to take food out for the cat but kept the trash next to the door so Jungkook will remember to take it out tomorrow morning. Of course Taehyung hasn’t turned the heating on so that the house is just as cold as the crisp air outside but has somehow thought to to leave a sticky note on the shoe rack to remind Jungkook to keep his wet boots in front of the heater so that they’d dry by morning.
“Give me a minute,” Jungkook calls back, locking the door and working off his shoes, leaving them next to the door right beside his soaking umbrella. He’d hear about that tomorrow, a ten minute discourse on ‘what part of leave them in front of the heater do you not understand?’ and Jungkook will shake his head a little and grin, and Taehyung will sigh and Jungkook will kiss him and say he’d forgotten and Taehyung will let it go.
And Jungkook is just tired right now. Tired and in need to Taehyung to make him forget that.
There’d be dinner in the kitchen, wrapped in foil, probably yesterday’s continental chicken Taehyung had made, half burnt and totally lacking salt that Jungkook had eaten last night like it was the best invention since ice cream cakes. It’s the tiniest lies between them that keep Jungkook going, the terribly tacky watch Taehyung gave him last anniversary that Jungkook still wears to work, the time after graduation when Taehyung got that horrible haircut and dyed it bright pink and Jungkook had kissed the anxious expression away and told Taehyung he’d never looked more beautiful. It’s something perfect, a balance Jungkook has been working on his whole life, like art that faded into the night. Necessary. But not. It’s a theory Jungkook is working on.
Jungkook pads over to the bedroom, work bag clutched in one hand, socked feet almost dragging across the floor as he reaches the half open door and pushes it open with his shoulder.
“Hey,” Jungkook says, voice hushed as his eyes fall on Taehyung, but there’s a catch in his breath. It’s nothing new; Jungkook’s excuse is simple. Taehyung is beautiful. Taehyung is beautiful and it’s the oldest thing about Taehyung that Jungkook knows. The first time he knew it was back when he’d met Taehyung years ago at a college freshman party when Taehyung had someone spotted Jungkook in the crowd and somehow decided that Jungkook was the kind of person he’d like to know when they were only naive freshman of eighteen.
Jungkook knew right away of course; it was the kind of thing you can’t miss, like a sneeze or first love. Taehyung was that person, the kind of person you felt a rush just being around, the kind of person who made your world spin ten times faster and brighter every time they were in it, whose presence alone was enough to make people notice their existence. It was the smallest things; that Taehyung smelt like the ocean sometimes if you stood next to him close enough, even though Jungkook was the one who came from Busan. That Taehyung’s breath was like mint and ice cream when he teasingly leaned in close to Jungkook that night freshman year, eyes flickering to Jungkook’s lips, the music around them so loud that Jungkook didn’t know if it was his heart or the beat that was hammering in his chest louder. That Taehyung had really warm, large hands, larger than anyone he knew when he had taken Jungkook by the wrist and dragged him out into the cool September air and told him about his cat and his six cousins back in Daegu like they had known each other forever, not just two hours.
That was six years ago, a dusty memory in Jungkook’s head, but it’s the first thing Jungkook remembers on nights like this, with Taehyung sprawled on the sheets, cat on his lap, wide awake, hair a mess, eyes fixed on Jungkook.
Taehyung is so goddamn beautiful.
[12:26 am]
“Hey,” Taehyung echoes, breaking into a smile that makes Jungkook want to kiss his into next Friday. And it was Saturday today.
Taehyung moves, swinging his feet off the bed. It upsets the cat, who hisses and slinks out of the room, but Taehyung barely notices as he walks over to Jungkook. He’s a few inches taller that the younger, something Jungkook’s ego is still hurt over, though Taehyung claims he doesn’t understand why. He reaches out a hand to brush away Jungkook’s wet bangs away from his face.
“You’re soaked,” Taehyung says, but it comes out as a whisper, something between anxious and needy and Jungkook allows himself a small grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“The umbrella decided not to cooperate,” Jungkook says, voice hoarse, but he’s distracted, eyes flickering from Taehyung’s face to his lips repeatedly, and he’s itching to kiss him, to touch him, though he can’t understand why.
Taehyung notices, the way there’s a knowing light in his eyes all of a sudden, and he clutches Jungkook’s tie and tugs him closer.
“Long day?” he asks, slowly loosening the tie and working it off, putting Jungkook’s work case aside.
“The longest.”
“Miss me?” Taehyung asks, eyes shining as he unbuttons Jungkook’s soaked shirt and Jungkook grins. There’s a game they play, a little of push and a lot of pull and they know the routine, all the steps and nuances by heart, like a choreographed dance that needs to be performed over and over again to satisfaction. Jungkook always plays along.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Taehyung stops then, hands hovering halfway down Jungkook’s buttons.
“It’s horrible, you know, this consistent business of missing you,” Taehyung sighs and Jungkook laughs softly.
“I’ve only been gone for a couple of hours, Tae” Jungkook replies, rolling his eyes but his heart is beating a little faster in his chest, and he wonders if Taehyung can hear it, the sound of Jungkook’s pulse ricochetting in his own ears.
“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, voice serious and in the semi darkness, Taehyung’s eyes look like the stars Jungkook couldn’t see in the storming night sky, “I think I’d miss you even if we never met.”
Jungkook kisses him then, hands on either Taehyung’s face. It’s long and slow, almost sleepy the way Taehyung’s hands rest of Jungkook’s chest, the way Taehyung’s lips dance with Jungkook’s. It’s a routine they know. It’s familiar, comfortable. Taehyung is familiar.
“Mmm, gotta shower,” Jungkook says when they break apart for air and Taehyung looks almost as disappointed as Jungkook feels.
“You could shower tomorrow,” Taehyung suggests, but he’s given up already, the way he pouts in defeat and shoves Jungkook away playfully so that Jungkook goes back a few steps, laughing.
“I’ll be out in five minutes,” Jungkook promises and there’s a slow nod, a shuffle to the chest of drawers, clothes and towel pulled out and handed to Jungkook with a sigh.
“There’s dinner in the - ”
“I know,” Jungkook smiles. The edge of Taehyung’s lips tug a little and Jungkook reaches up and kisses Taehyung’s forehead. Taehyung leans into it and closes his eyes and when Jungkook pulls away, Jungkook can tell Taehyung has already forgiven him.
“Five minutes, I promise,” Jungkook says, slipping out of Taehyung’s grasp and making his way to the bathroom. The lights are already on, because Taehyung can’t sleep in total darkness and Jungkook can’t stand the nightlight, so the compromise is that Taehyung will leave the bathroom light on and crack the door open halfway. They’re an array of precariously balanced compromises on a house of cards that is always liable to blow over, but Jungkook is from Busan and he knows a thing or two about winds.
[12:38 am]
Clothes are quickly discarded in a messy pile on the floor and Jungkook just about drags himself into the shower and turns the tap on and let the water run through his hair, down his body. It’s warm and Jungkook leans his head against the wall, eyes fluttering shut.
He straightens out the knots in his spine one by one, warm water thawing him out. Jungkook is tired, but it’s not the kind that exhaustion brings alone. He’s exhausted, sure, but that is a distant feeling, something Jungkook is used to after years of college and work, juggling professional and personal ethic till an engraved formula etched in Jungkook’s brain. Jungkook is the kind of tired that just needs to be touched. The kind of tired that wants to forget. The kind of tired that can change.
The kind of tired only Taehyung can change.
[12:43 am]
Jungkook is almost reluctant to leave the warmth of the shower compared to the cold outside but it’s the thought of Taehyung waiting for him that gets him to turn the shower off at last, to methodically towel himself off, hair and then body, putting on whatever Taehyung had given him, first the underwear, then the extra large shorts and finally Jungkook’s old Yeezus shirt from college.
“You said five minutes,” Taehyung says when Jungkook flops onto the bed, head on Taehyung’s folded lap after the elder had sat up and put down his book on the nightstand when Jungkook had come out of the shower.
“I don’t usually time my showers on a second by second basis, but you’ll be happy to know I made every effort to speed up for you,” Jungkook says, grinning up at Taehyung, which earns him a smack on his arm.
“You’re the one who said you’d had a long day,” Taehyung grumbles, tiny smile playing on his lips, fingers subconsciously threading through Jungkook’s damp hair.
“True, but I also said you looked cute in those bell bottom jeans in college and boy was I lying.”
“Wow, I can’t believe you went there- ”
“To be honest, your butt looked incredibly cute in those, you couldn’t expect me to tell you to just throw it away.”
Taehyung brings his hand to his heart, mouth half hung open in pretend shock, looking down at a very smug Jungkook.
“Jeon Jungkook, are you flirting with me right now?”
“I don’t know, is it working?”
Taehyung huffs. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m already spoken for,” Taehyung says, holding up his left hand with the shiny gold band on his ring finger as proof.
“Yet here I am in your bed, three inches from your dick,” Jungkook says simply, goofy smile directed through half lidded eyes at Taehyung.
“Aren’t you going to ask who the lucky guy is?” Taehyung quips, bending down so that he’s a breath away from Jungkook’s lips.
“Oh, I have a fair idea,” Jungkook whispers back, holding up his own hand, which has a matching band of gold.
There’s a silence that passes between them, Taehyung’s eyes fixed on Jungkook’s, searching for something.
“You’ve got that look in your eye,” Taehyung says when the hush between them feels tangible, his voice heavy. Taehyung reads Jungkook like an open book that Jungkook doesn’t know he been writing, the pages filling out with Taehyung interpreting it as soon as Jungkook wrote them in so that it’s not a book Jungkook is writing anymore, it’s one they both are.
Which is the point of being married to the love of your life, Jungkook supposes. But Jungkook will play a little longer, even if Taehyung was the kind of husband who played the game annoyingly better.
“What look?” Jungkook asks, staring back innocently. Taehyung raises an eyebrow.
“You’re not planning on just falling asleep.”
“Force of habit,” Jungkook shrugs, reaching up to brush the bangs out of Taehyung’s eyes, which soften a little at the touch.
“So you don’t want to- ”
“I never said that.”
Taehyung laughs, pushing Jungkook’s head off his lap so that Jungkook is forced to sit up and face Taehyung, his legs crossed. Taehyung’s unfairly handsome, Jungkook thinks, even at this godforsaken hour of the night when Jungkook must look like a special sort of hell, wet hair angled in every direction, bags under his eyes, crumpled shirt because god knows no one in this house picked up an iron.
“You’re always so needy when you’re tired,” Taehyung mumbles, but he’s already inching closer to Jungkook and Jungkook knows what comes next. He’ll pretend he doesn’t, though. It’s Jungkook’s favorite game to play.
[12:56 am]
“Yeah, well,” Jungkook hums, planting his hands under Taehyung’s butt and hoisting him onto his own lap in one swoop so that Taehyung giggles, his eyes crescents, shining in anticipation hovering over Jungkook, straddling him with ease.
“I could be less horny if you’re not in the mood,” Jungkook offers, finger trailing up and down Taehyung’s torso. “I could think about last month’s phone bill, or the fact that you’re going to yell at me tomorrow because I won’t want to take out the trash. Or I could think about your ex, god knows he was the best turn off of your life.”
Taehyung flicks Jungkook’s forehead, grinning.
“Yoongi wasn’t that bad,” Taehyung says, not all too defensively so that Jungkook lets Taehyung get away with it.
They’re married, for crying out loud. all Jungkook does is let Taehyung get away with everything he wants. He wore the ring as legal contract and acceptance of the fact that he was whipped for Taehyung’s smile and his shitty attitude and everything in between.
“You said he fell asleep right after sex. Even though you love cuddling.”
“Babe, you don’t like cuddling either.”
Jungkook ruts his hips upwards in a fluid bounce so that Taehyung lets out a sharp gasp and a shaky breath, eyes flashing dangerously.
“Always do it for you though,” Jungkook mumbles, and the unheated room suddenly falls away because they’re warm, uncomfortably so and there’s electricity in this analogy somewhere but Jungkook isn’t eloquent until Taehyung is under him, crying out his name.
[12:59 am]
“Always do everything for you,” Jungkook says, and there’s Taehyung’s hot breath on his neck and he’s turned on as hell and all the Yoongis in the world couldn’t change that right now, with Taehyung fingernails scarping his back, grinding down on him every few seconds through Jungkook’s thin shorts so that Jungkook knows Taehyung is as hard as Jungkook right now.
“Always,” Taehyung agrees, voice strained and they’re two seconds away from falling together, falling apart and Jungkook’s vision is Taehyung, in the background, in focus, everywhere.
“God, I love you,” Jungkook breathes.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
[1:00 am]
It’s seconds or minutes or hours and Jungkook knows it when he lowers Taehyung onto the bed softly so his head settles on the pillow, knows it when Taehyung’s tongue slips between his teeth and searches all the corners of Jungkook’s mouth he already knows like the back of his hand, knows it when they tug their clothes off and Taehyung is left in his underwear, flushed shin and swollen lips. And it’s raining outside, but Taehyung tastes like sunshine on Jungkook’s tongue.
All Jungkook knows is his beating heart and the way it reacts every time Taehyung says ‘I love you’.
It’s all he ever needs to know.
“May I?” Jungkook asks gently, finger latched onto the hem of Taehyung’s underwear, eyes wide in question and hunger, even though Taehyung’s expression is practically begging for it, for touch, for Jungkook, dick straining through the thin material, even though Jungkook’s own mouth is watering to swallow Taehyung whole.
But Jungkook always asks. He always does.
“Umf - god, Jungkook, yes,” Taehyung squirms, and Jungkook smirks, pulling away Taehyung’s underwear entirely to his ankles so that Taehyung’s dick is tense against his stomach. Jungkook’s heart leaps to his throat.
“It has come to my attention,” Taehyung says, looking at Jungkook almost amused, “that we’ve done this about a million times in the last six years and you still look at my dick like you just discovered chocolate fountains for the first time.”
“Chocolate fountains. That’s a fun metaphor. Accurate too, if it’s white chocolate you’re talking about,” Jungkook smirks, dipping his head to kiss between Taehyung’s upper thighs. Taehyung groans, fingers instantly threading into Jungkook’s scalp and tugging him higher and higher and his nails are digging in to Jungkook but Jungkook barely registers it because Taehyung is whimpering a little, dick twitching to be touched and Jungkook is high off every syllable that falls from Taehyung’s lips, coherent or not.
“You’re so easy,” Jungkook laughs, “I don’t even have to try with you.”
“You’re the one who was horny, why don’t you let me - oh, shit -” Taehyung squeals, three octaves higher than usual when Jungkook runs his tongue teasingly slow in a wet stripe over Taehyung’s length. Taehyung’s always been so sensitive, always pliant and flushed at the lightest touch, and Jungkook loves it so much.
God, he loves it so fucking much.
“What were you saying?”
“S’not important, tha’s go-ho-d, oh fuck, Jungkook, stop teasing and fuck me already.” Jungkook is smiling, a little too wide, a little too smug, one hand pumping Taehyung’s entire length maddeningly slowly and the other reaching out to the bedside drawer for the lube.
“Can’t. Won’t. Can’t help it if your dick’s so pretty. Literally, do something about it, it’s outrageously cute, I fucking love it.”
“Someone’s got to have the cute dick between us so I figured I’d step up - oh,” Taehyung breathes when Jungkook fastens the pace of his hand till the first of Taehyung’s pre cum slides down his length and onto Jungkook’s hand, and Taehyung’s fingers scrape down Jungkook’s bare arms so that Jungkook knows they’ll be angry red marks tomorrow. Jungkook stops, because it’s no fun if Taehyung gets off so soon. He shifts up so that he can see Taehyung eye to eye.
“Hey,” Jungkook says, hovering over Taehyung, elbows planted on either side of Taehyung’s head.
“H-hey,” Taehyung stutters out, skin glistening a little with sweat, body flushed pink and Jungkook feels like there’s no longer any space between his own heart beats, the way he wants to tell Taehyung all the words he’ll never be able to say, and it’s stupid because it’s the kind of thing he could tell Taehyung, has been trying to already everyday for the rest of their lives and it won’t feel like it was enough.
“I love you,” Jungkook says instead, and maybe he lied about being eloquent with Taehyung under him. Jungkook is never eloquent when it comes to Kim Taehyung. With Taehyung, he’s always a stumbling mess, the kid with his eyes closed in the group picture, the typing error at the bottom of a love letter, the spill over the brim of morning coffee.
“I love you, too,” Taehyung smiles without missing a beat, breathing slowing down and he’s looking at Jungkook with the kind of love Jungkook is still not used to, after all these days and months and years and Jungkook has to look away.
“I love you,” Jungkook repeats, soft kiss on Taehyung’s forehead, “I love you,” on Taehyung’s nose, “I love you,” a long one on Taehyung’s lips till he sees stars, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” on his jaw, down his chest, his stomach, his thighs, every inch of Taehyung he can worship with his lips alone.
“I’m so,” Jungkook’s breath hitches at the way Taehyung is looking at him now and Jungkook has to remind himself where he is, “so incredibly lucky,” Jungkook breathes when he reaches Taehyung’s mouth again and there’s tears in Taehyung’s eyes, sliding down the side of his face that Jungkook wipes away.
“Thank you for marrying me. Thank you, god, I love you so much,” Jungkook says, and there’s a noise at the back of Taehyung’s throat, something between a sob and something inhuman, clawing at Jungkook wordlessly.
“Use your words, babe,” Jungkook says, snapping open the lube and dipping in three fingers all the way up to his knuckles.
“Want you,” Taehyung says simply, hips raising a little to make his point. “Want you a lot, want you right now.”
“You’re so wound up already,” Jungkook says, working his way down and spreading Taehyung’s legs apart, reaching around and rubbing his slick fingers across Taehyung’s hole. A low whine tumbles from Taehyung’s lips, long and loud enough to get Jungkook’s body humming with the rush off the feeling that he could alone make Taehyung sound like that.
“Bet you could come just like this, without all three of my fingers even filling you up,” he rasps, going in with one finger without warning and Taehyung jumps a little, clutching manically at the sheets around him in desperate fistfuls, eyes screwed shut. He’s gorgeous, glorious, perfect like this, mewling and needy in Jungkook’s hands.
“How’s it feel, Tae?” Jungkook coos, moving his finger slowly inside Taehyung’s walls, deeper with each thrust of his finger till his practiced finger hit Taehyung’s sensitive spot and Taehyung bucks wildly down, crying for more.
“Need more, fu-uck, so g-good, wow, what was I saying, something about me wanting a divorce if you don’t speed u-up, fuck, Jungkook.”
“Hmm?” Jungkook hums, second finger now in Taehyung as well, alternating his pace between fast and achingly slow when Taehyung seemed too close, till there’s tears in Taehyung’s eyes for an entirely different reason, head pressed back against the pillow, head lolled backwards.
“Don’t just - oh. oh my god, I hate you so fuckin’ much -”
“Talking pretty big for someone who has my fingers up his ass,” Jungkook grins, placing Taehyung’s legs over his shoulder to stretch him wider. Taehyung tries to say something, but his words are muffled behind the hand he’s closed to his mouth and Jungkook has to ask him to repeat himself.
“I said if you don’t get your entire fist all the way up my ass this minute, I swear you’re never going to know what pre-work blowjobs feel like ever again.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, babe.” Jungkook smirks, but he stops teasing, finally thrusting with all his three fingers because that’s all he knows Taehyung can take so that Taehyung cries out loud enough for the neighbors to probably hear.
“Jungkook, p-please, I’m honestly so close, I’m gonna- ”
“Come for me, babe. I got you, I got you, I promise,” Jungkook says and he paces himself with Taehyung’s thrusts down into Jungkook’s fingers, once, twice, four times. Four years dating, two years married, four months since they decided they wanted kids, two girls and one boy by and by, and Jungkook has started saving up funds and Taehyung had baby-proofed the house in the subsequent weeks. Three years since they had last touched the yard and two since their neighbors had started to complain about it. They’re numbers and fractions and patterns in there somewhere Jungkook can’t figure out but there’s one heart that beats for Taehyung and one way Taehyung manages to keep his eyes open to look at Jungkook and somehow, it all makes sense when Taehyung comes with Jungkook’s name on his lips, though Jungkook will forget the connection again tomorrow. It’s a theory he’s working on.
“You’re a mess,” Jungkook laughs softly, looking at the cum all over Taehyung’s stomach but Taehyung ignores it, panting heavily into the pillow before just sitting up, pushing Jungkook down against the mattress.
“Gotta finish you off too,” Taehyung says before dipping down to take Jungkook’s cock into his mouth without warning.
There’s something vulgar that slips from Jungkook’s lips and it doesn’t take a lot to get Jungkook to come, just a couple of bobs of Taehyung’s head and Jungkook is already dipping his head back and climaxing into Taehyung’s mouth, trying his best not to thrust forward because Taehyung’s gag reflex has never been the best. When Jungkook comes, Taehyung swallows it all down without complaint and kisses Jungkook’s twitching dick when he’s done.
“That,” Jungkook manages out later when his breathing has slowed down and Jungkook has wiped Taehyung down with the towel he had showered with and they’ve both dressed again, Taehyung spooning Jungkook, “was phenomenal.”
“What can I say? I strive to satisfy,” Taehyung says, sighing contently and lightly squeezing Jungkook’s arm.
“You thirsty?” Jungkook asks and in the minimal light from the bathroom, Jungkook can make out Taehyung’s nod.
“I’ll get it,” Jungkook says, extricating himself from the warm sheets and Taehyung’s body and dragging his bare feet to the freezing kitchen.
When he returns, Taehyung is still awake, though Jungkook can tell he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.
“Thank you,” Taehyung says when Jungkook hands him the glass, draining it in seconds.
“You want more?”
Taehyung shakes his head, holding out his hands to ask Jungkook to come back to bed instead.
“I kept dinner back in the fridge,” Jungkook breathes into Taehyung’s neck when he’s huddled into the toasty blankets warmed by Taehyung’s body heat once more, letting Taehyung’s leg drape over his waist.
“I don’t think it wouldn’t have spoiled in this cold but you can never be too careful.”
“Fed the damn cat too, though it scratched me when I tried to get it into that sweater you got her last year,” Jungkook mumbled through half lidded eyes.
“Why don’t you both just try to get along? She’s the sweetest thing-”
“You sound like you’re talking about your mother.”
“Jungkook.”
“Tae, that thing may be sweet to you, but I think she dies a little inside every morning she wakes up and I’m still around.”
“Have you ever considered the fact that you’re overdramatic when you’re too tired to function?”
“I have. I call bullshit on it.”
Taehyung laughs softly, and they don’t speak for a while. Jungkook has almost drifted off when Taehyung speaks again.
“You didn’t leave the shoes next to the heater, did you?”
Jungkook smiles in the dark, and there’s a sigh from Taehyung. They’re old fashioned. The corners of their apartment is filled with books because they’re agnostics to reading off a computer screen and they always kiss with their eyes closed. They’re not perfect. Jungkook gets pouty when Taehyung beats him at video games and Taehyung once yelled at Jungkook for forgetting to pay for heating again so loud that Jungkook broke down in frustration and Taehyung spent the next week trying to make up for it. Sex next doors will always sound better and their road trips are never straight out of a movie. Last time, Jungkook forgot the sunscreen and Taehyung ate half the food before they even got to the beach.
God, they're so far from perfect.
[1:42 am]
Jungkook will never mind though, not once. Tomorrow, they’ll wake up, limbs entangled and lips swollen, and Jungkook will offer to make breakfast and Taehyung will say five more minutes, something Jungkook will never turn down. Taehyung falls into him like the good morning kisses and sunlit weekends Jungkook has been longing for all his years, and really, they have a lifetime of sunrises over a horizon together to figure it all out.
He’s in no hurry. Jungkook knows they’ll get there someday.