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“Can you at least please pretend that you’re having a good time?” Seokjin whispers frantically under his breath, his eyes pleading as he scoots closer to Taehyung by the bar. “Your eyes look dead. Lifeless.”
The evening has just begun, and as usual, SAPPHIRE has drawn a crowd. A-listers, influencers, singers, and whoever else Min Yoongi felt needed an invitation to the star-studded event.
It’s a celebration of the agency’s ten years in business, during which he has somehow managed to amass almost the entire country’s entertainment elite under his PR umbrella.
Taehyung had scoffed at Seokjin when he suggested they switch agencies that morning ten years ago, but when Seokjin bet Taehyung his entire year’s salary and hedged it on Min Yoongi’s success… well, then, Taehyung had to consider it.
It was the best career move he could have made.
Min Yoongi and his team have the ability to spin any story into a favorable one. In the rare instance that they can’t, they bury it, equipped with contacts in all corners of the city to help him with whatever he may need done. Taehyung stopped asking questions long ago, but one thing is certain: no one pulls a fast one on one of Yoongi’s clients. It’s impossible.
So, when Yoongi demanded that Taehyung show up to the party of the decade—Yoongi’s words, not his—he complied immediately, asking Seokjin to be his plus one.
After fifteen years in the industry, Taehyung doesn’t really care for parties of the like. People know who he is, and he knows the people he needs to know. As much as he loves his job, he figures he’s about four movies away from retirement, tired of a lifestyle that he never expected to live. But, he’s good at playing pretend, so much so that he landed himself on the list of the best actors their country has ever produced. It’s as much an honor as it is a burden.
Tonight, he must not be doing a good job pretending.
Unimpressed, Taehyung stares at Seokjin.
“My eyes look dead because my soul has been snatched from me,” Taehyung answers, thanking the bartender with a nod when he slides his whiskey sour over. “By this industry. I am bored. Lifeless, as you say.”
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
Nothing really excites him anymore. The projects he has been offered as of late are too safe, made to appeal to the masses and not the actors behind the craft. They exist in a market where no one dares to take creative liberties or risks. They want something that sells, something to trend.
Taehyung has been there and he’s done that, and he misses the days when a script would enthrall him. When he’d get so immersed that he’d live and breathe his character, even dreaming of them when he went to sleep for the night.
“Oh, poor pity Kim Taehyung.” Seokjin sighs, stabbing the toothpick into his olive as he fishes it out of the martini glass. He pulls it off with his teeth, chewing obnoxiously. “The country’s most coveted actor is bored. At a party where everyone is tripping over their feet to talk to him. It must be so tough, man. My condolences.”
“You’re finally getting it! I’ve been trying to tell you for months that I’m struggling. It’s about time you catch on.”
Seokjin snorts into his drink.
“You know… you can always try picking someone up at one of these things,” Seokjin suggests, lifting a brow as he scans the crowd for a suitable candidate. “I bet it’s been a while since you got laid.”
Offended, Taehyung pauses, his drink halfway to his mouth. He resists the urge to look around them, praying that no one is within earshot when he speaks again.
“First of all, it has not been a while,” he lies, well aware that Seokjin picks up on it. “Second of all, could you maybe lower your voice? I don’t need the whole city to know that.”
Seokjin beams, smiling over the rim of his fancy glass.
“Well, well, well, look who just contradicted himself.”
Taehyung frowns. “I’ve just been busy. I haven’t had time for that.”
The truth is… not exactly that, but no one needs to know that. That’s only for Taehyung and the walls of his apartment to know.
“You just told me you’re bored.”
Taehyung resists the urge to throw his hands up.
Seokjin is one of his best friends. An expert at getting under his skin, and once he has a drink or two, he becomes even more insufferable.
There’s no walking his point back now, so he concedes, sighing deeply into his whiskey.
“Alright, fine, I’m in a slump,” he whispers, looking around them as he pretends to scan the crowd. The last thing he needs is this information blasted on Dispatch tomorrow, even if Yoongi has been meticulous in curating the evening’s guest list to avoid any leaks. “I have lacked inspiration in both my professional and personal life.”
It’s an understatement if Taehyung’s ever told one, but it doesn’t seem like the right time to spill his guts over how uninspired and aimless he feels. A feeling so strange he doesn’t really know how to put a name on it, so he’s done his best to not even think about it.
Seokjin sighs dramatically.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Look, I’m—”
The words die on his tongue, his breath catching at the top of his throat as someone collides into him. A blow square into his side, and he doesn’t really have time to compute what has happened until there’s a man in his arms.
A solid and gorgeous man with dark, glimmering eyes and a terrifyingly sharp jawline.
The man must not realize either, instead yelping when he accidentally tips his entire drink down his shirt.
“Ah, shit, that’s fucking cold!” he hisses.
“Oh, no,” Taehyung says, taking a step back to steady the man on his feet. He does a quick sweep over his body, not failing to notice the impressively narrow waist. “Are you okay?”
The man pauses. He blinks a few times, then he looks down on his satin dress shirt.
Soaked, it sticks to his stomach, glued to what appears to be faint traces of muscle beneath it. To make matters worse, the fabric strains over his shoulders and arms, too, showing off impressive curves of muscle.
Taehyung swallows, diverting his eyes back to the man’s face.
“No. Absolutely not,” the man says, wrinkling his nose as he assesses the damage. When he shifts his gaze up to lock eyes with Taehyung, his demeanor changes—his beautiful eyes widening. “Actually, yes. I’m ‘kay. Great, actually. Terrific.”
The man sways a bit, letting out a high-pitched giggle when he attempts to lean against the bartop but misjudges the distance, wincing as his hip hits the quartz.
He must have had a drink too many.
Taehyung looks around the space. “Let me get you something to clean up with. Surely the bartender has a rag.”
The man’s smile turns into a slight pout.
“Oh. I thought you were going to offer me your shirt.”
Taehyung tilts his head, glancing down on his shirt, then back at the man.
“The one I’m wearing?”
The man confirms with a sharp nod. “Yes.”
Nothing indicates that he’s joking.
“That would be… a choice,” Taehyung finally says.
“Mm, it would leave you shirtless,” he fills in unnecessarily.
Seokjin takes the exact moment to appear next to him.
“He’s flirting with you, Tae.”
It’s loud enough to filter over the music. Utterly embarrassing and completely unnecessary.
Thankfully, the man doesn’t seem to hear Seokjin.
“Yeah, well… he’s drunk,” Taehyung whispers back.
Unfortunately, he picks up on that.
“Yes, I am very drunk,” the man says, blinking furiously, as if he tries to sober himself up. “For good reason, though. My plus one for tonight, my piece of shit situationship, who I invited tonight, by the way,” he adds dramatically, stumbling over his words, “told me this morning that he has been thinking about whether he wants or needs me in his life. Then he told me that the answer to both of those questions is no,” he says, inhaling deeply as he wrinkles his nose. “No! Who tells me no?”
Under no circumstance should Taehyung laugh, but there’s something about the situation—the satin shirt sticking to the man’s abs, the round, pleading eyes, and the fact that he can barely stand straight as he tries to reason with a complete stranger about the injustice of his breakup.
It takes all he has to not laugh. Seokjin doesn’t bother holding back, though, his raucous laugh loud even over the music.
“I am sorry to hear that. That’s rough,” Taehyung says, feeling for the man. “He clearly doesn’t deserve you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” the man agrees. “I bet you’d never treat me like that.”
Seokjin snorts under his breath.
“Well,” Taehyung starts, but the man doesn’t let him finish. “I’m—”
“Or maybe you would. Especially looking like that,” he says, dragging his eyes over Taehyung appreciatively, a slight hint of judgement in his tone. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. You’re probably not nice. The hot ones never are.”
Taehyung offers a kind smile, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“You are also very drunk right now.”
“Mm. And ‘m brutally honest when I am drunk.”
Taehyung’s eyes drift to the man’s abs again. The shirt clings to them, outlining every ridge of muscle. He really needs to stop staring.
He snaps his eyes back up.
“Then I am flattered.”
The man scoffs. “Don’t be humble. You’ve definitely heard that before.”
“Oh, he has,” Seokjin pipes up, nudging Taehyung with his hip. “People tell him how good looking he is all the time. It’s very annoying, actually.”
Confused, the man looks between them, a look of interest passing in his eyes. But his face falls quickly.
“Oh no. You have an equally beautiful boyfriend,” he says, heaving a sigh. “Of course you do. I should have known.”
His shoulders slump at his incorrect realization.
“Ew. No. I’d never date him,” Seokjin interjects immediately, the judgment in his voice a little too heavy for Taehyung’s liking. “We’re just friends.”
Taehyung turns. “What the fuck, hyung. Why so heavy on the never?”
“You’re not even fuck buddies?” The man furrows his brows. “What a shame. You’re really hot together.”
Taehyung really hopes that no one is around to hear them.
“Oh, buddy, you really do say anything when you’re drunk,” Seokjin laughs off, offering a jovial slap to the man’s shoulder. “And please don’t start any rumors. Taehyung here is my best friend, but I don’t like to see him naked.”
“Oh my God!” Taehyung interrupts, feeling his cheeks flame with heat. He turns to the stranger who just tumbled into him, nodding back toward the bar. “How about we get you some water. Are you here with anyone? Like, a friend, or someone? Not the asshole situationship guy, of course.”
The man groans. “Please don’t speak about him!”
“Oh, was it one of those… you were more into him than he was into you?” Taehyung asks.
“Ew, fuck no,” the man says, shaking his head vigorously. “He was a loser. The problem is that I don’t get broken up with like that. I do the breaking up,” he explains, grabbing the water that the bartender hands over. It sloshes over the edge, coating his sleeve instead. A few tattoos peek out from under the fabric, and Taehyung has to make yet another concerted effort to not stare. “It’s the matter of the principle, you see.”
“Yes, of course,” he says. “The matter of the principle.”
Seokjin laughs, but neither of them correct the man.
Taehyung wonders who he is. He’s fairly attuned to his peers, even the up and coming actors, and he doesn’t recall seeing his face around. He’d know, especially those pouty lips, and the sharp jawline that contrasts so drastically to the round, glimmering eyes.
“Wait,” the man says suddenly, narrowing his eyes to look at Taehyung. “I know you, don’t I?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “I don’t believe so, no.”
“But you look really familiar. But like…I’d remember someone as gorgeous as you.”
Before Seokjin can open his mouth to say something stupid, Taehyung lifts his foot, not bothering to be discreet when he kicks him in the shin. It’s enough to make him choke on his own saliva, suddenly too busy coughing that he needs to turn around to excuse himself.
Taehyung can’t say that this is how he expected the night to go when he walked through the doors of SAPPHIRE. He expected yet another boring industry party with dreadful conversations and small talk that makes his skin crawl.
This is quite the surprise. A bit of fun to a lackluster night.
“Now you’re really just saying anything,” Taehyung laughs off, taking the glass from the man when he finishes the water. “How about we call you a cab so you can go home?”
The man frowns, shaking his head.
“No. Not before I get your number.”
As much as Taehyung enjoys the exchange, and as beautiful as the man might be, he isn’t in the business of handing out his phone number to strangers.
“I do—”
“Please don’t break my heart,” the man interjects before Taehyung can shoot him down, his hand coming up to rest over his heart. “I don’t think I can take two heartbreaks tonight.”
“I thought you didn’t like the situationship guy?”
“That’s not the point,” he sulks. “The point is that I don’t want you to turn me down.”
Taehyung bites his lip.
“Look, I’m flattered, but I—” he cuts himself off, and for reasons unknown to himself, he switches gears at the last second. “How about this? Why don’t you give me your phone number?”
The man sways, narrowing his eyes to focus on Taehyung.
“Do you promise you’ll call me?”
Taehyung tries to bite back his smile.
“You are very persistent,” he observes, trying to buy himself some time. “I won’t call you, but I’ll send you a text in the morning to check in on you. How about that?”
The man hiccups. “You promise?”
Taehyung nods, handing his phone out. “I promise.”
A wide smile stretches on the man’s face, his eyes glimmering with something that Taehyung wishes didn’t intrigue him.
Surprisingly coordinated for his inebriated state, the man enters his phone number, grinning as he hands it back to Taehyung.
Taehyung looks down on the contact name.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
The name doesn’t ring a bell, but at least Taehyung has something to search for now. He can spare himself the humiliation of having to ask Yoongi about him. Lord knows that would turn into a conversation he doesn’t need to have.
“Jeon Jeongguk, huh?” he says, looking back up at him.
The man nods. “That’s me.”
“Okay, Jeon Jeongguk. I’ll text you in the morning.”
Taehyung doesn’t know if that’s true or not, but for now, he goes along with it.
“I’ll be waiting,” Jeongguk responds. “Don’t forget that you promised.”
Without another word, Jeongguk turns around, swaying slightly before he takes off, disappearing into the crowd without another word. Taehyung watches as he goes, chuckling to himself when he accidentally bumps into a woman, but Jeongguk pays her no mind, trudging on like nothing happened.
Taehyung pays him a little too much mind.
****
The first thing that pops into Taehyung’s mind as he opens his eyes is the stranger from last night.
The gorgeous, drunk, and adorable stranger, who didn’t seem to have any idea who Taehyung was. Maybe sober, he would, but it was oddly refreshing to be so blatantly flirted with. There were no reservations or hesitations, or any of the exhausting expectations that usually accompany the experience for him.
Seokjin didn’t even tease him about it last night. When Jeongguk finally stumbled away from the bar, Seokjin had simply looked at him. The kind of look that tells Taehyung that he knows exactly what’s running through his mind.
For once, Taehyung wished that Seokjin would have made a big deal about it. He wished that he would have teased him about the interaction, and the way Taehyung felt his cheeks noticeably flush from a drunk stranger’s compliment. He wished Seokjin would have called him out on how he stared at his abs as the fabric of his shirt clung to his stomach.
But he didn’t. And fuck if that didn’t make it worse, and fuck if that isn’t why Taehyung is so in his head about the stranger.
He still has no idea who Jeongguk is.
What he should have done last night is done a quick Naver search, but there’s part of this mystery of… not knowing. Surely, he’s someone. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been at the party in the first place.
Even now, when he’s laid in bed for a couple of hours to enjoy his day off, he’s resisted the urge to pick up his phone to look. For a few more moments, he wants to exist in the memory of yesterday.
But he wants to text Jeongguk.
He wants to know if he made it home okay, which is so out of character that it makes him laugh.
Taehyung doesn’t care about drunk, unfiltered strangers in bars.
But the second he tells himself that, Jeongguk’s face pops into his mind—the sparkling eyes, the sharp jawline, the muscle that clearly hid beneath his shirt.
Fuck it.
His phone hangs on by a thread as it dangles from his nightstand, barely connected to the cord where he left it last night.
22 new Instagram notifications
Missed call — Yoongi Hyung
13 unread text messages
He’ll get to that eventually. For now, he pulls up a new text thread, smiling to himself as he sees the black heart next to his contact name.
Taehyung
How are you feeling this morning, Jeon Jeongguk?
To his surprise, the text marks as ‘read’ immediately. A bold choice.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
who’s this
Ah, so Jeongguk doesn’t remember.
Perfect.
Taehyung
Ouch. Last night you told me I was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen
Jeongguk types, then he deletes it, the screen going blank for a few seconds before he types again.
It takes him almost two full minutes to come up with a response.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
there are vague memories but i have convinced myself i made them up
pls tell me i made it all up and you arent kim taehyung
pls
Taehyung smiles to himself, wondering just how drunk Jeongguk was last night.
Taehyung
You did not make that up, no. It definitely happenedjeon jeongguk 🖤
omfg pls block me
It makes Taehyung laugh out loud.
Taehyung
Don’t worry about it. It was fun. How are you feeling?jeon jeongguk 🖤
not great
and im so sry for the rumors
fuck its bad isnt it? i was too embarrassed to keep reading tbh
Confused, Taehyung exits their chain, opening up his browser to do a quick search. Normally, he isn’t in the business of searching for his own name, not keen on reading other peoples’ opinions about him. That was a game he played when he was younger, and it came at the expense of his mental health.
To his surprise, he finds several articles with his name in the headline.
And words he hasn’t seen next to his name in a very long time.
Not since he hired Yoongi, at least.
New romance alert! Actor Kim Taehyung was seen flirting with Internet personality Jeon Jeongguk at SAPPHIRE last night.
JUST IN: Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk seen together at exclusive party last night
Jeon Jeongguk and Kim Taehyung exchange phone numbers—take a look here!
People really do have too much time on their hands, Taehyung included, because he browses every single article he can find. It’s been years since he’s had a fun, harmless rumor going around, and if he dares to be honest, he doesn’t mind one bit that it’s with Jeon Jeongguk, of all people.
Jeon Jeongguk, as it turns out, is a little more than just an ‘internet personality.’
What started as a hobby to record himself when he was playing computer games turned into a youtube channel with millions of followers, who all appear to be endeared by his expressive commentary and his exquisite looks. Someone else’s observation, of course. Not Taehyung’s.
Jeongguk’s reach is wide, stretching far beyond his regular community of gamers, as evidenced by the comments on his TikTok account. Taehyung can only assume that he has various brand deals knocking down his door, and it makes sense why he’d need a team behind him now that he’s been thrust into quick and sudden fame.
At least he isn’t an influencer.
Taehyung
That would explain why Yoongi called me this morningjeon jeongguk 🖤
ugh i ignored the call
seriously i am so sorry about this
i’ll work with hyung on releasing a statementTaehyung
Wow! Hyung already with Yoongi? Took me years
Seriously, don’t worry about it. It’ll blow over.
Truth be told, I haven’t had a fun rumor in a while, and I’m glad it’s with you
Bubbles pop up again, then they disappear. Taehyung catches himself grinning, biting down on his lip to stop himself.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
this is really embarassingTaehyung
It’s a good thing you don’t remember last night, thenjeon jeongguk 🖤
pls kill me
Taehyung phone pings again, this time with a text message from Yoongi
Yoongi-hyung
Meeting @ 13:00, my office
Hoseok is aware
Taehyung glances up at the time. 11:45. Just enough time for a cup of coffee and a shower. As much as he’d love to continue with this exchange, Jeongguk is going to have to wait.
****
SEOLTANG Public Relations is headquartered in the heart of Gangnam. The firm occupies the top floor, and just in case the torture of being called into a meeting isn’t enough, the long elevator ride to the top sure gives one time to stew in their thoughts.
Taehyung isn’t nervous, per se. A dating rumor isn’t going to ruin his reputation at this stage in his career. If it does, then he’ll just enjoy retirement a few years earlier than expected. He is curious, though, wondering what could have Yoongi in such a state that he’s calling him in for an emergency meeting on a Saturday morning.
Jung Hoseok springs to his feet the second Taehyung walks through the doors, greeting him with a formal bow. Taehyung reciprocates, taking note of the colorful suit Hoseok is donning. Somehow, he manages to make the most hideous outfits work for him.
Without a word, Yoongi’s terrifying assistant ushers him into Yoongi’s office.
The solid wooden door creaks when he pushes it open.
Taehyung expects Yoongi to be perched behind his desk as usual, with his thick-rimmed glasses low on the bridge of his nose as he stares at his computer.
But today, he isn’t.
No, he’s standing by the couch, in quiet conversation with…
Jeon Jeongguk.
Not a trace of hangover is evident on his face, his skin glowing, his eyes still as round and sparkling as they were last night. Today, though, he’s dressed down in a pair of jeans and a black hoodie. Too casual for a meeting with the CEO of a public relations company, which leads Taehyung to believe that Jeongguk and Yoongi are closer than he let on.
Taehyung pauses, clearing his throat to announce his presence.
Both Yoongi and Jeongguk snap their heads up.
It’s brief, but it’s there—the surprise in Jeongguk’s eyes, evident when he blinks once, twice, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Such a stark contrast from last night.
Taehyung would lie if he said he wasn’t pleased about it.
Yoongi sighs. “You are late, Taehyung-ah.”
Taehyung looks down on his watch. He did stress about not being early, but he certainly isn’t late. Yoongi gets what he gets when he schedules a meeting at the last minute on the weekend, especially when he was having such a good time texting Jeongguk.
“No. I’m right on time, for once.”
Yoongi gestures to the couch. “Please sit.”
Immediately, Jeongguk steps to the side, shuffling to make room for Taehyung. He tries to be sneaky, but Taehyung notices the glance he shoots his way, how he lingers on the open neckline of Taehyung’s shirt.
He, unlike Jeongguk, put on a pair of slacks and a casual dress shirt. More fitting for the early summer heat.
“I’m sorry I left you on read this morning,” Taehyung says, smiling warmly at Jeongguk as he takes his seat. “I didn’t mean to stop responding so abruptly.”
Jeongguk’s lips part, but he says nothing.
Cute.
Yoongi narrows his eyes. “So you two do know each other.”
Taehyung chuckles, poking his tongue into his cheek.
“You don’t know? We’re the new budding romance in town. Didn’t you read the news this morning? I assume that’s why we’re here. To discuss our dating parameters.”
Jeongguk tries to keep his laugh at bay, but it tumbles out.
“Jesus fucking christ,” Yoongi mumbles, picking his iced coffee up to take a sip. “You do know that’s why the two of you are here, right?”
Jeongguk smiles. “Well. It was either that, or about my sex tape. I’m hoping it’s the former.”
Yoongi chokes on his coffee.
“That was obviously a joke,” Jeongguk says immediately, biting down on his lip to keep from laughing. “It’s not true. There are no sex tapes. None. I was joking. I don’t even have nudes.”
Yoongi keeps coughing, gently patting his chest.
Something, be it Jeongguk’s quick comment just now, makes Taehyung lean into it, too. He has no idea how it’ll land, but something possesses him to run with it.
“Who doesn’t have nudes?” Taehyung chimes in. “And don’t forget about the tape we made last night,” Taehyung says, turning to look at Jeongguk. “I knew you were too drunk to remember. I sent you the cloud link, though. You should have it in your email.”
For just a second, Jeongguk’s eyes bug, but it doesn’t take him more than a second to join Taehyung in laughter, his nose scrunching as he covers his mouth with his hand.
Yoongi throws his head back and groans.
“Get it out of your system,” he says, unimpressed when he catches on to their antics. “I take it you two are friends?”
Taehyung shakes his head.
“Aquaintances, at best. We met for the first time last night. Jeongguk tumbled into me, spilled a drink on his shirt, flirted pretty heavily with me and asked for my phone number. But that’s the extent of it. I do feel like I should mention that he told me I am the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. You know, in case it makes the rounds in the press.”
“Please don’t make me relive it,” Jeongguk mutters, burying his face in his hands. Between his fingers, Taehyung catches the slight blush that creeps up on his cheeks. “I am never drinking again. This is why I don’t drink.”
“I’d say that’s a solid choice,” Yoongi agrees, sighing deeply. “Look… I don’t care that you were wasted,” he says to Jeongguk, shaking his head before he turns to Taehyung, “or that there are rumors floating around about the two of you. Unless, of course, you are worried about that. Do you want me to bury it?”
Taehyung hasn’t come out and declared his sexuality to the world. He never will, because he simply doesn’t feel the need to. One day, he’ll meet a partner that he’ll share with the world, and then, everyone will know. For now, though, things can be as they are.
“I don’t care,” Taehyung answers, shrugging his shoulders. “Dating rumors with a younger man is good for my image.”
Jeongguk scoffs, the slightest blush still lingering on his cheeks as he turns to look at Taehyung. “I’m only two years younger than you?”
“Like I said,” Taehyung reiterates, smirking at him. “A man younger than me.”
Yoongi snorts.
“But in all seriousness, I will do whatever Jeongguk wants,” Taehyung adds, this time seriously while looking over at Jeongguk. “If you want Yoongi to work his magic, then I am okay with that. It’s entirely up to you. I’m sure Kim Namjoon is due for a good rumor.”
Taehyung trusts that Jeongguk won’t spin his comment out of context. The joke is a long standing one in their friend circle—how Seokjin’s boyfriend always ends up in some sort of rumor alongside Taehyung for no reason, the world none the wiser that he’s almost married to Kim Seokjin.
Jeongguk’s smile creeps up quickly, and he bites down on his bottom lip to keep it at bay. There’s a lip ring there today, Taehyung’s eyes darting down without his permission. He knows he didn’t miss it last night, but now isn’t the time to ask about it.
“I mean, you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, so I wouldn’t be opposed to the country thinking we’re dating. We do look good together.”
If he’s embarrassed about last night’s event, it doesn’t show anymore.
Taehyung wishes he wasn’t so fucking intrigued by the man next to him, but he is.
Yoongi’s groan reverberates through his chest.
“Please stop. This is—” Yoongi stops short, sighing again. “You know what? I’m gonna run a story just to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Both of them burst into laughter.
“So that’s why we’re here? You really wanted to know if there was truth to the articles that held absolutely no substance?” Taehyung asks. “The photos were just us talking to each other. You, of all people, know better than that.”
The photos weren’t very good. They were taken from a distance, a bit grainy, and just of the two of them talking. There was no evidence of Jeongguk tumbling straight into Taehyung’s arms.
“Well, no,” Yoongi answers. “I know there was no substance to them.”
“Then why are we here?” Jeongguk asks.
“Because I need to know who leaked the story!” Yoongi leans back in the armchair, crossing his arms. “My guest list was vetted. Fool-proof! Then this morning I woke up to… this.” He wrinkles his nose for good measure, waving between them. “I have reached out to all my contacts, and apparently, no one can tell me where the photos and information originated from. That doesn’t just happen. Not to me.”
“So it’s an ego thing?” Taehyung asks.
Yoongi doesn’t even hesitate.
“Of course it is.”
Jeongguk snorts. “You’ll find out in due time. Nothing escapes you, hyung.”
“I wish the two of you would escape me.”
It’s their cue to leave, so Taehyung stands, straightening out his pants.
“Let us know if there are any more rumors about us,” he says, saluting Yoongi. “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.”
Doing business with Yoongi is easy. He doesn’t ask for much, and Taehyung knows he’s exceptionally lucky in that regard.
“I promise I was lying about the sex tape,” Jeongguk adds, standing to follow suit. “I’d never.”
Another groan grumbles from Yoongi, both of their laughter drowning it out as they go.
As always, Hoseok’s typing is loud as his fingers fly across the keyboard. When the door to Yoongi’s office creeks open, he looks up, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. They are obnoxious, but he pulls them off. With a nod and a slight smile, he bids them goodbye, promptly looking back down on the monitor as he goes back to work.
It’s he who runs the place, and Taehyung knows it.
They stand in silence until the elevator arrives. When it does, Taehyung steps aside, allowing Jeongguk to enter first.
It’s purely selfish.
The elevator rattles to life, and Taehyung is filled with the urge to… say something. Last night, he couldn’t get Jeongguk to shut up, but this morning, he stands quiet next to him, absentmindedly chewing on his lip ring as the elevator ticks further and further down towards the lobby.
It feels like one of those moments he shouldn’t let pass. One he knows he’ll regret if he doesn’t take, and one he can’t afford to overthink.
He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by a grumble.
Immediately, Jeongguk slaps a hand over his lower stomach, his eyes wide. A bit embarrassed, he clears his throat, diverting his eyes to look at the elevator wall.
Taehyung chuckles, grateful for the universe and its ability to intervene.
“Are you hungry?”
Jeongguk immediately shakes his head. “No.”
“So your stomach just… makes that noise on the regular?”
Jeongguk closes his eyes for a second, inhaling deeply.
“I couldn’t eat this morning. I was… a little nauseous from, you know, all the drinking.”
Taehyung hums sympathetically. “You look really fresh for nursing a hangover.”
Jeongguk chukles. “It was not pretty this morning.”
Taehyung doubts that, but he keeps that to himself.
A bad idea pops into his head—something along the lines of not letting the moment pass, and all that. A sign from the universe, the kind he’s been known to ignore.
“Do you want to go grab some lunch together?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it. “Do you feel up for it?”
Jeongguk turns to look at him, eyes bugging round.
“You and I?”
Taehyung chuckles. “Is there someone else in the elevator that I’m not aware of? There’s a great place around the corner.”
“Oh, shit. Okay,” Jeongguk fumbles, but he recovers fairly quickly. “Yeah, I’d love to.”
“You sure?” Taehyung can’t help but ask, smiling curiously. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”
“Nope, I’m sure,” Jeongguk says, saved by the elevator that pings, announcing their arrival to the lobby. “Should we let Yoongi know that we’re going out together?”
It would be the smart thing to do, especially in light of the rumors yesterday. Jeongguk is a much better client than Taehyung.
“We probably should,” he says. “But I think it would be more fun not to.”
Jeongguk raises a brow. “Are you always this defiant?”
Taehyung shakes his head.
“Nope. But I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed the rumor.” He holds his arm out to stop the elevator doors from closing, nodding for Jeongguk to go ahead, but not before dragging his eyes down his body. Slow and appreciative—not at all subtle. “We do look good together. I’ll take the heat for it if something comes up. Tell him it was my idea.”
Jeongguk almost runs into the person entering the elevator.
It’s a short walk to the restaurant, barely a stone’s throw away from Yoongi’s office. It’s one of the places they used to come together when he had just started SEOLTANG, when all they could afford was the hole-in-the-wall restaurant that was grateful for any business that would walk through the door.
No one stops them on the way, but Taehyung does see a cell phone or two pointed in their direction. He pays them no mind, picking up the pace to round the corner to the restaurant.
As always, the door chimes when he pulls it open.
The comforting smell of pork belly lingers in the air, already well on its way to etch itself into his clothes.
Four more people are in the establishment. A busy day for lunch.
“Taehyung-ah!” The ahjumma greets right away, her smile splitting wide open when she spots them in the doorway. Immediately, she ushers them to the table in the corner. “Do you want your usual?”
Taehyung nods. “Please.”
She nods decidedly, then she shifts her focus to Jeongguk, looking him up and down.
“You brought a friend.”
“I did.”
“Good. I didn’t think you had any.”
She turns on her heels, disappearing behind the curtain that leads to the kitchen.
Jeongguk snorts, not able to cover it up.
“So this isn’t where you normally take your dates?”
Taehyung sits back against the weathered couch. The place is in desperate need of new furniture, but there’s something comforting about the way he sinks into the hard bench and the worn fabric. Stories have been told within the confines of these four walls, and it would be a shame if it lost its character.
“Oh, is this a date, Jeongguk-ssi?”
Jeongguk’s breath catches in his throat, an undignified noise pushing itself out.
“No! I didn’t mean to insinuate that,” he rushes out, stumbling over his words. “It’s just, she said that she didn’t thin—”
“It’s okay, I know,” Taehyung interrupts, offering a warm smile. “I’m just messing with you. You make it incredibly easy.”
Jeongguk groans. “You’re like a shark. You smell a little bit of blood, and immediately, you attack.”
“I can’t say that you’re wrong. But I’m sorry… I’ll rein it in,” he says, taking his own advice and changing the topic. He doesn’t know what it is about the man that makes him lean into this side of himself. It just tumbles out of him, as unexpected here as it was in Yoongi’s office earlier. “I’ve been coming here for years,” Taehyung says instead, reaching for the chopsticks in the drawer and handing Jeongguk a pair. “I’m pretty sure I kept them in business for a while.”
On cue, the ahjumma returns with their order. A generous platter of meat and onions, and a side of Japche. Surely too much for them to finish by themselves. Taehyung fires up the grill, throwing on a few pieces to start.
He doesn’t want to rush this.
“Yoongi took me to a place nearby a few weeks ago. It was nice,” Jeongguk says over a piece of kimchi. “He grumbles a lot, but he loves to feed me.”
“Did you just sign on to work with him?” Taehyung asks.
“Mm. Maybe six months ago or so. He’s… a fellow gamer, actually. It’s how we came into contact.”
Taehyung pauses. “How did I not know this about him? I’ve known him for more than ten years. He’s never once mentioned to me that he’s a gamer.”
Jeongguk picks up another piece of kimchi, the corner of his lips twitching like he wants to say something.
“Please don’t tell him I said this,” he says, perhaps considering if he should say what’s really on his mind. “He just started, and he’s fucking awful.”
That makes a whole lot more sense.
Taehyung laughs at the visual that pops up in his mind.
“Then why does he play with you? Aren’t you like… one of the best in the world?”
“I am ranked number one, yes,” Jeongguk answers without a beat of hesitation. His shoulder square just slightly, a subtle display of the innate confidence that only comes from knowing one’s craft. Then, he leans back, smiling knowingly. “Wait… how do you know that?”
Taehyung flips the meat on the grill, wondering how much he should share about his research this morning. It’s probably best to leave out the part about venturing down both Jeongguk’s wiki page and all of his social media accounts.
“I did a quick Naver search this morning. I can’t say I’m well versed in your world, but I saw what I needed to see. You are undefeated, and you have quite the online presence. It’s incredibly impressive.”
Jeongguk chews on the inside of his cheek, letting the words hang in the air for a moment longer than comfortable.
“Most people use other words to describe my chosen profession.”
Something is woven into his statement, something Taehyung knows better than to ask about during a first meeting. He has a feeling Jeongguk isn’t keen on delving into that with a stranger at a spontaneous lunch.
“I’m not sure how anyone can be less than complimentary when you’re dominating your field.”
He hopes that he isn’t far off.
“I—well,” Jeongguk pauses, taking a second to let the words settle. The tension in his shoulders sag, like he physically deflates. “Thank you.”
“Has it been pretty sudden? The attention?”
Jeongguk nods, then his face pales, as if he recalls something he wishes he wouldn’t.
“What gave it away? Please don’t tell me I talked about that last night, too.”
Fear coats his words.
“Oh, no,” Taehyung reassures, shaking his head gently. “It was your naver page. It was nothing you did. I’m sure it’s been a lot to wrap your head around.”
A sigh of relief escapes him. He picks a piece of meat off the grill, plopping it into his mouth.
“It has. Last night was the first event I actually dared to attend, you know. It’s been a little too overwhelming, but Yoongi talked me into it. I don’t even drink, but last night was… a night.”
Jeongguk closes his eyes in embarrassment.
“What did you even drink last night?” Taehyung asks. “It did a number on you.”
A pained sigh escapes Jeongguk.
“Pink moscato.”
Taehyung almost chokes on the japche.
“Out of everything there, that’s what you chose?”
Defensive, Jeongguk raises his hands in front of himself.
“I don’t normally drink, okay?!”
“Ah, and the sweet, pink wine got the best of you.”
“Can we please not talk about it?”
“I’m enjoying how embarrassed you are,” Taehyung admits, pouring them both a glass of water. “You seemed panicked this morning over text message, but then you were so collected with Yoongi just now. It gave me whiplash, so I feel like I had to even it out.”
Jeongguk chuckles. “I just like to mess with him. He has such a soft spot for me, I can practically get away with anything.”
“That’s diabolical.”
With a shrug of his shoulders, Jeongguk snatches another piece of pork belly off the grill.
“But to bring it back to last night. I’m usually not… that forward. And I don’t drink. Like, ever, and… well, I’m sorry for being so—annoying.”
Jeongguk looks… regretful. Like he truly needs to apologize for his behavior.
As much as Taehyung would love to play with the tension and tease him for it a little longer, he doesn’t. He’s been in Jeongguk’s position before, and it’s a terrifying place to be, especially as a person without much privacy. Not knowing what happened is one thing, but the chances of the rest of the world knowing it instead, is terrifying.
“I don’t mind, and you don’t need to apologize. It was refreshing, to be honest.”
Jeongguk blows out a breath, his cheeks puffing adorably.
“It was embarrassing, that’s what it was. Do you have any idea what it feels like to wake up in the morning, your head still pounding from the stupid pink moscato you decided to drink, only to see that you were drunkenly and very openly flirting with one of the biggest A-listers in the country? If you don’t know what it feels like, it feels an awful lot like you want to lock yourself in your house and never show your face to the world again. Which is problematic, seeing as my fucking job is to stream my face to the world.”
It’s surprising that he gets all of it out in one, big breath.
Taehyung throws his head back and laughs.
“For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed it. There’s no need to sweat it. I’m being serious.”
Jeongguk picks at his food, smiling down on the plate.
“I am very much trying to keep it together right now.”
A spark of something flutters in Taehyung’s stomach—something he certainly doesn’t anticipate. It makes him short-circuit for a second.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I’m—” Jeongguk pauses, wrinkling his nose. “See? This is part of my problem. I have absolutely no game. There was no reason for me to admit to that, but I always just… put my foot into my fucking mouth. Unfortunately, it doesn’t only happen when I’m drunk.”
The juxtaposition of the man in front of him is enthralling. The sharp features, the round eyes, the way his blush creeps up his cheeks when he says something before his brain can filter it out… Taehyung is way too fucking endeared for his own good.
Jeongguk might be the one putting his foot in his mouth, but Taehyung isn’t great at meeting new people, either.
It seems unfair to call it a problem, but the reality of his life is that it feels as if he belongs to others more than he belongs to himself. No matter what he does, or what he says, people decide for themselves what Taehyung is like.
And rarely does he live up to the ideas. To the preconceived notions about him that he had no part in crafting. Strangers have decided for themselves how he should behave, and what their time together should be like. They are the projections of other people mirrored onto him, expectations that are impossible to meet if he even cared to try anymore.
Once they realize that Taehyung isn’t who they thought he was, it all just… fizzles.
Eventually, when it became a problem one too many times in his previous relationship, Taehyung just stopped trying.
He started finding something wrong with each person he went out with, or he simply wasn’t present enough to keep the conversation flowing for them to want another date with him.
It’s a miracle that there aren’t rumors out there about how terrible of a date he is.
Then again, he does pay Yoongi a hefty amount of money to manage his brand.
When enough dates crashed and burned, Taehyung decided that his focus really should be narrowed on his career, instead.
It served him well. It landed him on fancy lists and in rooms with acclaimed directors. He grew hungrier and more ambitious, so honed in on his craft that he lived and breathed his work for the last seven years.
He’s one of the best their country has ever seen.
But in the middle of it all, he has forgotten what this is like.
He’s forgotten what it’s like to get to know someone without the pressures that he’s always attached to the process.
He’s forgotten what it’s like to have fun and enjoy a person’s company.
It hits him like a punch to the gut. A realization so heavy it makes his throat tighten.
He never intended for this to happen. For him to lose part of himself.
So he decides to be vulnerable. To share something that he isn’t particularly proud of, and something that might make Jeongguk feel less exposed.
“If it helps you feel any less embarrassed, I can’t make it past a first date. I totally crash and burn. Not in the way you crash and burn when you drink, but I crash and burn nonetheless. And at this point, I’ve given up.”
The words take Jeongguk by surprise. He puts his spoon down, focusing all of his attention on Taehyung.
“I don’t believe you. You’re—” Jeongguk stops short before he can finish. “I don’t believe you.”
“I am what?” Taehyung asks. “What were you going to say?”
Jeongguk chews on the inside of his cheek, casting a quick glance down on the grill to avoid Taehyung.
“You’re you.”
Taehyung shrugs his shoulders. “That seems to be the problem. People have this idea of what I should be like.”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen immediately. “Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to prove your point.”
Taehyung shakes his head. “I assure you that you didn’t.”
“But I refuse to believe you can’t close a date. Especially looking like that.”
Taehyung revels in the compliment, leaning back in his chair as he keeps his eyes on Jeongguk.
“Please elaborate on that point.”
With a groan, Jeongguk throws his head back.
“No. I’m not going to shove my foot any further into my mouth. You know what I mean. I will say nothing more on the subject.”
“You did tell me last night in quite explicit detail. So yes, I know what you mean.”
Right as Jeongguk goes to answer him, their phones ping simultaneously. They look at each other as the moment is broken, both of them reaching into their pockets for their phones.
It’s a group message from Yoongi.
Yoongi
Are you two seriously out to eat together?
Without a head’s up?
Like you couldn’t have fucking told me when you just saw me?
After what we just discussed?
Jeongguk whips his head around. There aren’t more than three or four other people in the restaurant. It’s a bummer, really. This has been Taehyung’s hidden gem for years, and never once has he been spotted here.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
r u spying on us hyungYoongi
[image attached]
Pls just let me know next time?
Jfc you two….
“Does it bother you?” Taehyung asks, pocketing his phone without answering. A twinge of disappointment makes itself present when he says what he says next. “We can leave if you want.”
Jeongguk shakes his head. “No. It’s just… unusual? I don’t normally get recognized when I’m out and about. My audience is a little more… niche.”
“I usually don’t get recognized here,” Taehyung responds, glancing around them again. If the ahjumma knew who it was, she’d throw them out, no questions asked. “I’m sorry.”
Jeongguk brushes it off, his smile crooked and adorable.
“Yoongi seems peeved about it, so that makes it worth it to me.”
“I am usually a very compliant client, so he’s just working in some uncharted waters. I let him know if I’m going out with anyone, or if I’m seeing someone. I know I don’t have to, but that way he knows what he’s up against, should it make the rounds.”
Taehyung wonders if he’s said something out of turn, the silence lingering a little too heavy between them.
“And are you?” Jeongguk eventually asks.
“Am I what?”
“Seeing someone?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “No. I’m not. I assume you’re not, either? Based on the events of last night.”
Jeongguk winces. “What exactly did I tell you?”
“Do you really want to relive it?”
“I don’t mind a bit of pain. May as well.”
Taehyung laughs into his drink, the conversation from last night fresh in his mind. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget, nor does he want to.
“You said that your situationship, whom you had invited, told you earlier that evening that he’d been thinking about whether he needed or wanted you in his life, and that the answer to both of those questions was no.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “That happened when I was sober.”
“You then went on a rant about you not getting broken up with, but doing the breaking up instead. Said it was the matter of the principle.”
“Isn’t it the principle of the matter?” Jeongguk asks.
“Yup. As you can tell, you were pretty fucking wasted. You also asked if you could have the shirt I was wearing, since you had spilled on yours, and then you asked for my phone number.”
Jeongguk’s entire face is covered by his hands.
“It just keeps getting worse.”
“Do you want me to continue?”
Jeongguk peeks from between his fingers. “There can’t be more.”
“There is,” Taehyung confirms.
A pained breath pushes between Jeongguk’s fingers.
“Go ahead,” he says, his voice barely a breath above a whisper.
“You made a comment about Kim Seokjin being equally as handsome as me, and mentioning it being a shame that we weren’t fucking, becuase we, and I quote, ‘would look really good together.’”
Horrified, Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He pushes his plate aside, looking to the side of the table.
“If it’s cool with you, I’m just gonna go. Please block me. Delete my phone number. Forget you ever met me.”
Taehyung kicks Jeongguk beneath the table.
“I will never forget last night for as long as I live.”
Jeongguk throws his head back. “That’s even worse.”
“I think we should order some sparkling wine, actually,” Taehyung continues to tease. “I think auntie can get some for me. Let’s see what else you’re filtering out right now.”
Now it’s Jeongguk who kicks him under the table.
“Please tell me that was it last night.”
“It about rounds out the experience, yes.”
“Thank God.” Jeongguk draws a breath, seeming to calm down. Then, his eyes widen again. “Wait… when you say Kim Seokjin, you don’t mean actor Kim Seokjin, right?”
Taehyung clears his throat. “Let’s say that I do.”
“Oh my God. He’s your best friend. I should have known.”
“You know who my best friend is?”
“Everyone knows you’re best friends. I knew that before my Naver search.”
“You searched me, too?”
Jeongguk takes a sip of his water. “If you must know, I was obsessed with Rainy Days when it came out. It may have sparked a… small obsession. I grew out of it. And now that I’ve officially met you, the mystery is gone.”
Taehyung throws his head back and laughs.
“That movie was trash. You have terrible taste.”
“I should rewatch it for old time’s sake.”
“I’d rather you don’t,” Taehyung says. “But I love to hear that you were once a fanboy.”
Jeongguk waves his hand in the air dismissively, expertly redirecting the topic to something else, but Taehyung finds that he has a hard time focusing. He’s forgotten what it’s like to be spontaneous—to be so engrossed in conversation with someone new that he forgets about his surroundings. He’s forgotten about everything that usually comes with meeting someone new. The expectations, the performative questions, the underlying current of ‘is it even worth our time to get to know each other?’
For the first time in years, Taehyung forgets about all of that.
****
“Anything new going on in your life?”
Namjoon kicks his feet up on the coffee table, accidentally brushing the iced Americano that sits there with his toes. It wobbles, almost falling off, but he manages to catch it at the very last second.
He draws a steadying breath, this time more careful as he adjusts his position on the couch.
Taehyung stares at Namjoon until he settles, then he looks down on his script.
“Not really.”
They’ve been at this for months, now. Namjoon comes over with a beverage of choice. In the morning, he opts for coffee or tea, but on the occasion that he shows up after five pm, he’s been known to bring a bottle or two of wine.
They take their positions on Taehyung’s couch, and they look over the scripts that have landed on Namjoon’s desk in the past week.
Even with months of refusals and disinterest on Taehyung’s end, his agent keeps persisting, bringing him script after script to reivew. It’s not the first time Taehyung finds himself in a creative lull, but it’s the first time it’s dragged on for this long.
And Namjoon keeps trying, unshakable as he hands over something else for Taehyung to read.
This script is boring, too. A drama of some sort, but the lead character falls flat… A divorcee who moves abroad to start anew. It’s the same as every other one hes’ read—no depth, no intrigue.
Taehyung knows he’d be bored out of his mind.
“No? Nothing at all?” Namjoon presses.
It causes Taehyung to look up from the script. Namjoon keeps his eyes on Taehyung, his brows furrowed as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“Do you see me?” Taehyung asks, waving around the room. “We do this every week. Nothing new,” he responds, then, before he can stop himself, he tosses the script onto the table. “Have we gotten any exciting rom coms lately? Something like, I don’t know… Rainy Days?”
Namjoon chokes, spluttering half a mouthful of coffee onto his black sweater.
“That movie was shit,” he says when he composes himself.
“That’s a little harsh?”
“No, it isn’t. It was a shit movie, and you were the only redeeming quality to it. Why on earth would you want to do something like that again?”
“I’m not saying I want to do that, I’m just saying… I don’t know. A rom com would be fun? Something… thoughtless? Not this crap,” he says, waving the script around. “People are too concerned with making masterpieces that they forget to have fun in the screen writing. Have you seen the dialogue? I want something that will make me laugh! Have you laughed lately? It feels good!”
Confusion flashes on Namjoon’s face, his eyes still watery from his coughing fit. At first, he must think Taehyung is joking, but when he realizes that he isn’t, he clears his throat.
“Oh, wow. Okay. You’re being serious.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“I don’t know? The fact that you’ve been seen out and about with Jeon Jeongguk, and when I ask if there’s something new going on in your life, you say no and go on a tangent about making a movie akin to your biggest flop.”
Taehyung sighs. “Why didn’t you just ask about Jeongguk, then?”
“It was a leading question!” Namjoon defends.
“It’s easier if you just say what you mean, you know.”
Against his will, he flashes back to SAPPHIRE, the unfiltered dialogue from Jeongguk running through his head without invitation. He’s been spending too much time thinking about him, uncharacteristically nervous, unsure how to even reach out to him again. He hasn’t seen him since they went to lunch, and any time he picks up his phone to text him, he finds a reason not to, even when he knows the text is welcome.
He is in his own head again.
“You’re smiling,” Namjoon observes. “So there is something new.”
“Sure, yeah, I met Jeongguk and we went out to lunch.”
Namjoon keeps pressing.
“After a story about you two being the new budding romance leaked. That… sounds like more than a coincidence.”
“You believe what the gossip sites are writing?” Taehyung asks, pausing when he realizes that he does. “Wait. You’re reading what the gossip sites are writing?”
“Look!” Namjoon puts his hands up in the air. “Yoongi is making me read them. He sent me the articles in a tizzy, pissed off that he still doesn’t know who leaked the news. Obviously, he’s interrogated Seokjin about it, too.”
Taehyung laughs. “He’s still stuck on that?”
“He won’t stop until he finds out.”
“By then, there will be a juicer rumor going around.”
“So it is only a rumor?” Namjoon presses.
“Look at you actually asking what it is you want to know.”
“Just answer the question, Taehyung-ah.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes.
“Yes, it’s only a rumor. We ran into each other that night at SAPPHIRE. Jeongguk was fucking wasted. He flirted pretty heavily with me, it was fun, and then I took his phone number at the end of our brief encounter, just so I didn’t have to give him mine. The next morning, we were both called in to a meeting at Yoongi’s to discuss the news, then we went to lunch together. That’s the full story.”
He leaves out the part where he woke up thinking about him. That’s neither here nor there.
Namjoon allows the words to linger for a bit.
“Have you seen him since?”
“No.”
“Do you want to?”
Taehyung doesn’t mean to pause, but he does, the silence stretching too long and giving Namjoon his answer.
“Oh, you totally do!” Namjoon fills in, answering Taehyung’s question for him. Taehyung doesn’t have to look at him, but he hears the smile in his voice. “Right?”
Taehyung flops back into the couch.
“Let’s say that I do.”
“Then text him!” Namjoon urges. “You have his number, right?”
“What if he doesn’t want to see me?”
The silence that falls over the living room is loud, so much so that Taehyung convinces himself he can hear Namjoon’s eventual eyeroll.
“What if he doesn’t want to see you? Is that what you just asked me?” he asks, looking at him in confusion. “Did you not just tell me he basically eye fucked you when you met at SAPPHIRE?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, Seokjin told me that’s what happened. And that you weren’t so subtle, either. Which I think is unfair for Jeongguk, you know. He doesn’t remember you staring at his abs.”
Taehyung tips his head back. “Of course Seokjin would say that I did.”
“The pictures also kind of speak for themselves. We will print them for your wedding, maybe use them as table numbers?”
“Could you not?” Taehyung begs, groaning into his hands. “Just because of that I’m not going to text him.”
In a flurry of long arms and uncoordinated movements, Namjoon launches himself at the table where Taehyung’s phone lies. He catches on at the very last second, faster by a fraction of a moment as he manages to snatch his phone up before Namjoon’s hand slams down against the wood.
Embarrassingly, Taehyung’s heart races against his ribcage.
He clears his throat, attempting to compose himself as he eases himself back on the couch.
Namjoon stares at him.
“That was the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.”
“And you launching yourself at my phone wasn’t?”
Namjoon waves him off. “That’s neither here nor there. What’s important is that you care enough about this fine stranger that you don’t want me to text him on your behalf.”
“Mainly because we’re… you know, thirty year old adults who can mind our own business?”
“Can you?” Namjoon asks. “Because you have a very attractive man that’s clearly interested in you, and you don’t even have the guts to text him back to tell him you want to see him again?”
“That’s not fair. You know about my curse!”
“There’s no such thing as a fucking curse, Taehyung.”
“I swear one of my exes hired an Etsy witch. There’s no other explanation.”
Namjoon frowns. “A what? A witch?”
“It’s—” Taehyung pauses, realizing he’s probably spending a little too much time online. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I can’t seem to get past a first date, and I’m scared that will happen if I ask him out on one. So it’s probably best that I don’t ask at all.”
“Was it weird when you went to lunch?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “No. But it also wasn’t a date.”
“Oh my god!” Namjoon throws his hands up. “Then just, I don’t know? Just ask to hang out with him? Be his friend? I don’t know. Just… something. You’re too attractive to waste your prime being this uncool. It’s like—don’t you know who you are?”
Taehyung opens his mouth to answer, but the sounds of a sharp wolf whistle interrupts them. Obnoxious and startling, the ring tone that Seokjin insists Namjoon use for his calls.
“Oh, fuck me,” Namjoon mutters, his face falling when he looks at his phone. “I’m late. We’re going to dinner at Seokjin’s parents.”
Taehyung springs to his feet, glad to escape the conversation he doesn’t want to have.
“We all have our character flaws. Yours is that you can’t be on time.”
“And yours is?”
“The date curse. Obviously.”
“I thought that was the Etsy witch’s doing?”
Taehyung ushers Namjoon to the door, kicking his shoes toward him to speed up the process.
“Please leave. Tell hyung I say hi, though. I miss him.”
Namjoon hops around, fumbling with his shoes as he tries to hurry.
“I’m going to tell him that you have a date with Jeongguk. He’s going to want all the details.”
“But I don’t.”
Namjoon stands tall, straightening out his slacks. He casts a glance into the mirror, fixing a stray piece of hair. He always looks presentable, the kind of guy who’s always ready for an impromptu lunch with the in-laws.
“Then you have fun explaining to him how you blew this one, too.”
“Hyung…”
His dimpled smile is dazzling and disarming, and Taehyung realizes he’s fallen right into his stupid trap.
“Good luck, buddy. And please try to find some inspiration,” he pleads, nodding down on the scripts on the table. He squeezes Taehyung’s shoulder, his eyes softening just slightly. “I am a patient man, but your management company is not.”
Taehyung gasps dramatically. “Oh, no. What if I fade into irrelevancy!”
“Would make my life easier, to be honest,” Namjoon mutters, but his gentle smile tells Taehyung to take his time. He will wait for him, even if his management company won’t. “And please text Jeongguk.”
****
By the grace of a nicer Etsy witch, the opportunity to text Jeongguk presents itself the same night.
He should catch some sleep, but he fell down a rabbit hole, and then another one, and before he knew it, the clock struck two am, and he’s still dousing himself in blue light when he’s meant to be sleeping.
Right as swipes to clear his text messages, a notification comes in.
A ding.
A banner dropping down, staring him right in the face.
goldenjjk is live.
Taehyung freezes, his heart beating stupidly fast for a notification. He hovers over the notification, unsure what to do.
If he thinks too much, he won’t click it, so he swipes down, the newly downloaded app opening up on his screen.
As one does, he’d gone on a social media hunt, subscribing to notifications on Jeongguk’s streaming account. Never once in his life has he watched one, but he figures that now is as good a time as any.
Turns out, he’s not the only one with the same idea.
Hundreds of thousands of people are watching already, a staggering number not even a minute into his stream. Taehyung stares at the top right corner where the viewer count keeps ticking up, suddenly nervous he’ll be noticed in a sea of strangers.
And Jeongguk looks… spectacular.
Dressed in a white tank top, he leaves little to Taehyung’s imagination.
The biceps he stole a glance at as they strained against the fabric of his shirt are out in full force, showing off an impressive physique. Tattoos span up the length of his entire right arm, wrapping intricately around his bicep and up his shoulder. Taehyung can’t make out the patterns, but he also isn’t sure if he’s blinking to refocus his vision.
It’s evident that Jeongguk does this for a living. The room behind him is backlit in soft, purple hues, contrasted by dark, sleek furniture and a shelf of what appears to be awards behind him.
“Hey hey hey,” Jeongguk greets, smiling warmly as he runs a hand through his hair. It must be intentional, the way his muscles move with the movement, framing his gorgeous face. “My manager might kill me for this, but I was sent the beta version of DAWNS, and I figured we could play together tonight.”
On the side of the screen, comments filter in rapidly, too quickly for Taehyung to keep up. But he captures the gist of it: Jeongguk’s viewers are excited.
Taehyung watches in awe how he shares his screen, the game coming into view.
The world of gaming is foreign to Taehyung—the closest he’s gotten is the FIFA 2005 that he played as a child, and he gathers that what Jeongguk does for a living is much different than kicking a ball around on a screen.
The game appears to be some sort of worldbuilding game, mixed with some sort of… ability to kill people. Surely there’s a better explanation, but that’s as much as Taehyung gathers as he watches him play.
Jeongguk moves with the precision of someone who could play in his sleep. He alternates his conversational topics, mixing between game commentary and his everyday life. It’s fascinating how quickly his fingers dart across the keyboard, the shortcuts as familiar as the back of his hand.
“What have I been up to lately?” he reads from the bottom corner, his eyes flickering back to the game a split second later. “Been watching a lot of movies, actually.”
More questions pop up, but Taehyung stares at Jeongguk and the way his shoulders strain when he dips his head to the right to stretch.
“What have I watched?” he continues, his tongue darting out to play with the piercing. Taehyung is starting to wonder if this is his business model—the semi-thirst trapping, the tight tank top and the soft smiling. “I actually watched Rainy Days last night. It’s one of my favorites.”
Taehyung chokes on his own breath, so surprised by the admission that he drops his phone on his face.
“And, of course, Endgame. I watch that at least once per week. A creature of habit, y’know.”
There’s a lot more to unpack there, but Taehyung is stuck on the first admission. His shitty romcom from ages ago. Surely, it can’t be a coincidence.
The game on the screen comes to a pause, and Jeongguk leans back in his chair, grabbing his phone off the desk in front of him.
It lights up his face, and Taehyung doesn’t know what it is that possesses him… maybe it’s the sight of Jeongguk, or the fact that he so clearly has been thinking about him, too. Why else would he have watched Rainy Days?
But he does know it makes him bold.
Taehyung pulls up his messaging app, searching for Jeongguk’s name.
Taehyung
You must want the rumors to keep flying?
Why else would you mention watching such a shitty movie like Rainy Days?
Jeongguk doesn’t have his phone on silent, because it pings a second later.
With his heart in his throat, he watches Jeongguk read the text message, his eyes widening for just a second. His fingers clatter against his screen, and on Taehyung’s screen, bubbles appear.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
fuckfuckfuck
so sorry i wasn’t thinking
“Who texted me?” Jeongguk asks, glancing toward the corner. He must not think, the commentary happening almost absentmindedly. Pink rises up his cheeks, the lie coming a second later. “Just my mother.”
Taehyung bursts into laughter, emboldened by the sudden embarrassment on Jeongguk’s end.
Taehyung
You know I don’t care about the rumors
I told you I like being linked to a younger man
Jeongguk takes a sip of his water, clearing his throat. He keeps his phone up, waiting for Taehyung’s text messages.
Now, it seems silly that he was even nervous to text him in the first place. He doesn’t know why he gets so in his own head about it, especially when it’s so easy with Jeongguk. It just… flows.
Jeongguk types again.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
it just dawned on me that you’re watching
“I’ll be back to playing in just a second,” Jeongguk says, a pleased smile curving on his lips. “We’re just coordinating dinner later this week.”
Taehyung
You caught mejeon jeongguk 🖤
do you have notifs on?Taehyung
What if I did?
And is that your way of indirectly asking me out to dinner? In front of all these people?jeon jeongguk 🖤
what if it is?
Taehyung
When and where?jeon jeongguk 🖤
whisk
friday at eightTaehyung
I’ll get there early and order the pink moscato for you
Jeongguk throws his head back, and though he tries to hide the smile when he returns his gaze to the camera, he can’t quite contain it.
He fields the next few questions expertly, dancing around the truth and telling half lies about his dinner plans. It pleases Taehyung to be in on the secret—to be the one that Jeongguk has dinner plans with, even if he’s telling it under the guise of something else. A connection in a world where he’s felt utterly lost for the last few months, a feeling he didn’t realize he was missing.
Taehyung can’t stay awake for the entirety of the stream, but he watches for a few more minutes, not entirely sure what is happening. But there’s something about watching someone in their element, and the passion that is woven so intricately into Jeongguk’s movements and dialogue. Jeongguk is passionate about his craft, that much is clear in the commentary he provides about the new beta version of whatever game he’s playing, even more so when he invites a few viewers in to play with him.
He comes to life in a way that can only be ignited when fueled by something you love. A craft, a passion, something that comes from thousands of hours of practice and wear. Taehyung knows he’s lost his own passion, but he feels a spark of it when he watches Jeongguk—when he watches as he learns something new in the craft he’s honed for years, when people think there isn’t anything new to learn at all. It’s how he’ll stay a master of his craft, never knowledgable enough to not learn something new.
Taehyung falls asleep with a smile on his face.
Right after texting Namjoon that he did lock down the date.
___________________
“Hyung, I need a favor.”
Jimin doesn’t look up from the pan, but Jeongguk notices the sigh that heaves his shoulders. He stirs the vegetables a few more times before placing the chopsticks to the side, then he turns the burner off.
Dramatically, he sprinkles a dash of salt on top of the vegetables, his back still turned to Jeongguk.
“And what kind of favor would that be?” Jimin asks.
It feels almost like old times, with Jimin cooking while Jeongguk watches, banned from helping even chop the vegetables. Not because he’s a bad cook, but because Jimin needed “total control of the entire creative process” to ensure he’d learn.
“I need a reservation at WHISK on Friday at eight.”
Jimin turns around in the matter of a second.
“You’re funny,” he deadpans, snorting under his breath when he realizes that Jeongguk isn’t joking. “It’s Tuesday today. We’re fully booked for the next two months, and you’re asking for a table on Friday?”
“Surely you hold a table or two if an impromptu VIP calls in?”
“Look, I know you have millions of followers on that—” Jimin waves his hand in the air dismissively, searching but failing to find the right word, “Streaming service of yours. And I love you so much, like… with my whole heart, babe. You know I do. But you’re not a VIP.”
Jeongguk gets it, but that’s beside the point. He needs a table, though he knows asking for a reservation at the hottest spot in town is an audacious ask. Usually, he just squats in the kitchen with the staff when he visits, not really keen on dining in the main dining room.
That Jimin has worked hard for the titles, awards, and accolades that he’s received is indisputable. He isn’t the most successful restaurateur in town for nothing. But when it comes down to it, Jimin is just his best friend who whips up a decent meal.
And best friends help each other out.
Jeongguk needs this favor, because as much as he’d love to take Taehyung to the dumpling place around the corner, the occasion calls for something a little more formal than two dozen dumplings and a lukewarm beer.
If Jimin is going to be that way, then Jeongguk will, too.
“Is Kim Taehyung enough of a VIP for you? I mean, I’ll be there, too, but that is neither here nor there.”
That certainly gets his attention.
Jimin’s mouth drops open. “You’re fucking with me.”
Jeongguk shakes his head, even if it isn’t posed as a question.
“Nope. Dead serious. We’re going to dinner on Friday and I need a reservation. Half the town is booked already. It’s impossible to get in somewhere.”
“Yeah, it’s restaurant week. Of course half the town is booked,” Jimin huffs out incredulously. “I’m a little offended that I wasn’t your first choice?”
In his frenzy, Jeongguk called at least fifteen restaurants over the last few hours, coming up short with every single one. When he realized he couldn’t even join the cancellation lists, he gave up.
“Can you get me a table or not?”
Jimin’s lip curves into a smirk. He keeps ignoring his question.
“How the hell do you know Kim Taehyung?”
“Do you not read the news?” Jeongguk asks, laughing as he snatches a piece of carrot out of the pan. Soft and sweet with a slight honey glaze, perfectly cooked as always. “We’re the new it-couple in town.”
He truly wasn’t thinking when he made the comment about Rainy Days on his stream the other day. It was fresh in his mind, because he had just watched it, inspired by his lunch with Taehyung. Hit with a wave of nostalgia, he decided to stream it with his dinner.
As always, someone took the comment out of context, not hesitating to run with with it and make up a story that fit the narrative the press had already spun about him and Taehyung.
Apart from the texts they shared during his stream, neither he nor Taehyung had brought it up again, but Yoongi had sent him a screenshot of the article, followed by seven question marks that encapsulated his annoyance perfecly.
Jeongguk left him on read.
“Yeah, and I’m dating Kim Seokjin,” Jimin says.
“I ran into him, too, the same night I met Taehyung.”
Jimin clearly doesn’t believe him.
“There’s no chance this happened and you didn’t tell me about it. It would have sent you into a fucking panic.”
“Do you seriously not keep up with the news?” Jeongguk asks. “You should. How else would you know who walks into your restaurant?”
“I’ve been prepping for restaurant week! Sorry I don’t have the time to follow the Dispatch exclusives this week.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes.
“Well, I ran into Kim Taehyung at SAPPHIRE after Donghyun dumped me.”
“I thought you and Donghyun weren’t a thing?”
“That is irrelevant to this story. The point is that I have a fucking date with Kim Taehyung on Friday. I, of all people, and I am begging you to please get me a table at WHISK. And please let me order something that isn’t on the menu. Please, hyung.”
It truly pains him to beg, but it works, because Jimin softens immediately, slumping against the kitchen counter.
“Not the fucking puppy eyes.”
“You have to admit this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me, hyung.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you text me about this? This is the stuff that you tell me immediately, buddy. Like, the second you have a moment, you go to the bathroom and text me.”
“I did text you about it. The same night that I met him.”
Jimin narrows his eyes.
“No, I’m pretty sure I would remember you telling me that you met Kim Taehyung.”
Jeongguk pulls his phone out of his pocket, needing to make his point.
“I swear I texted you, but I was pretty wasted that night, so my memory is hazy.”
Jimin straightes up, a slight smile tracing his face.
“Oh, wait… this was a few days ago, right? Over the weekend?”
Jeongguk nods. “Friday night.”
Curiosity glimmers in Jimin’s eyes. “You did text me, but it wasn’t about Kim Taehyung.”
Confused, Jeongguk watches as Jimin grabs his phone off the table. He scrolls down to their text messages, looking for the right one. Mostly, it’s Jimin leaving him on read, always too busy into the night with whatever a chef and restaurant owner does at work. All Jeongguk knows is that he’s exhausted and loaded—and he works entirely too much.
Jeongguk cringes when he looks down on the screen Jimin flashes in his direction.
Gguk
i drank a whole bothle of pink moscatoz
youshyld make me a DRINKB next time i co
me to whsk is so fucking fgood
douthink my piercing wil closedd i forget to put it back in hyjng help me
If he keeps reading, he might even taste the pink moscato from that night.
The silence of the kitchen is heavy.
“Well,” he finally says. “Okay.”
Jimin laughs. “And you’re telling me that this is the state you were in when you met Kim Taehyung?”
“Yeah, I—ugh. I don’t actually remember if that text was before or after, but it does sum up my experience that night pretty well.”
The more he learns about the night he doesn’t remember, the more he wishes he could erase his memory and completely forget.
“You know you absolutely cannot blow this on Friday, right?”
Jeongguk perks up.
“Does that mean you’re getting me a table?”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “Of course I will.”
“All because of Kim Taehyung?”
Jimin flicks Jeongguk’s forehead, shaking his head lovingly.
“No, you idiot. All because of you,” he corrects, pulling the pan off the stove and placing it on the table. “You’re my best friend, and there’s always space for you at any of my restaurants.”
“Then why did you tell me you’re fully booked?”
“Because very few things get you out of the house on a Friday night when the town is out and about, and you certainly don’t jump at the opportunity to be seen at the best restaurant in town,” Jimin says, always in tune with Jeongguk. “So I knew there had to be a reason. And I like playing hard to get, occasionally.”
Even after all these years, Jeongguk still hasn’t learned.
Jeongguk sighs. “I fell right into your trap.”
“You did.” Jimin beams, plating the vegetables for him. Tonight is about convenience and taste, not presentation, as evidenced by his hasty movements as he heaps a spoonful for him. “And now I need you to tell me every single detail, because in no universe did I think you would pull Kim Taehyung.”
As a dutiful best friend, Jeongguk takes Jimin through the story—all the embarrassing twists of it, and the parts where Taehyung asked him to lunch. They get a few good laughs out of Jeongguk’s embarrassment, but at the end of it all, Jimin just stares at him with fondness in his eyes.
“What?” Jeongguk asks. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Jimin tilts his head to look at him, the silence spanning too long. It makes Jeongguk so uncomfortable that he takes a sip of his sparkling water, not prepared for how fizzy it is. He coughs.
“You’re gonna let me cater the wedding, right?”
Jeongguk chokes on his water again.
“Oh my God,” he splutters, trying his best to compose himself. “Stop. It’s just a date. Please don’t make it weird.”
Amused, Jimin hums. “Oh, I’m gonna make it weird. You better not blow this, babe.”
Yeah, Jeongguk thinks. He better not blow this.
________________
WHISK is tucked into an inconspicuous location, next to a small cafe and a flower shop. Taehyung’s never been, but he received strict instructions to enter through the employee entrance in the back. A sharp three knocks, and someone will let him in.
If not closing a date is his character flaw, then being perpetually early is his other one. No matter how hard he tries to arrive fashionably late, he’s been cursed with the anxiety of not being on time. Since he can remember, he’s been early—at least ten minutes ahead of schedule at any given occasion. If he drives himself somewhere, there’s a chance he’s sitting in his car to scroll his phone to kill time before he is needed.
He glances down on his watch.
Exactly eight o’clock. Not a minute before or past the hour.
As instructed, he knocks on the door. Three knocks.
As if someone was waiting, the door opens immediately. A tiny, blonde woman stands on the other side, scanning Taehyung from head to toe with an exceptional amount of judgement in her gaze.
Awkwardly, he stands there, allowing the woman to scan him. Taehyung doesn’t know what it is that settles it for her, but finally, she shrugs her shoulders noncommittally, pushing the door all the way open for him.
“You look like Kim Taehyung,” she says, stepping aside to let him in. “If you aren’t him, you look enough like him. Go ahead.”
Taehyung chuckles. “Would it help if I showed you my ID?”
The woman shakes her head. “I don’t really care, to be honest with you.”
The honesty is both startling and refreshing.
“Fair enough,” Taehyung answers, offering a bow. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate you. It’s much colder out there than I expected.”
That gets a smile out of her. “Both handsome and nice. Rare combo. Your date is waiting for you. Usually, he’s in here pestering me, but he’s your problem tonight.”
She waves a hand in the direction of the exit, leaving Taehyung to fend for himself.
WHISK is brimming with people, the light dimmed for the perfect ambiance. It’s a startling contrast to the bright kitchen he just walked through—a hum of low conversation running through the dining room, mixing with the slow jazz that plays over the speakers.
Since its opening, it has been the place to be seen in town. Taehyung has never been, admittedly because he did not want to pull the celebrity card and get himself a table, and any time he’s called for a reservation, they have been booked out for months.
Taehyung looks around the room, searching for Jeongguk.
Propped into the far west corner, he sits facing the room, his eyes roaming over the menu. It’s a good table, not too close to other patrons, with a good view of the rest of the dining room with no one behind them. Perfect for people-watching, and an impressive pull during restaurant week.
Taehyung would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but he draws a breath, squaring his shoulders and walking over to the table.
His footsteps must give him away.
“Oh, you’re here,” Jeongguk says, a bit startled as he looks up from the menu. He straightens his back, his smile stretching across his face when his eyes land on Taehyung. “Hi.”
It instantly puts him at ease. “Should I not be here?”
Dressed in a thin navy blue sweater, he blends in, yet there’s a presence around him—the kind that draws attention and makes people do a double take. His dark hair falls in waves, a little messy, like he ran out of time and had to run out the door. It suits him.
“That’s not what I meant!” Jeongguk hurries to say.
“I know,” Taehyung reassures, taking a seat across from Jeongguk. “The woman who let me in just told me that you usually pester her in the kitchen when you’re here. I take it you’re a regular?”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Short blonde woman? Obnoxious and a little mean?”
“I’m not sure I’d choose those adjectives, but she did have blonde hair.”
“Nora,” Jeongguk says, sighing. “She’s a friend. I, uh, know the owner.”
“Nora has an owner?” Taehyung asks, pretending to be shocked. “Is this some freaky BDSM place you’ve taken me to? On a first date?”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “I know the owner of the restaurant! This is not a sex club. I wouldn’t take you to one. Like, not that I wouldn’t be open to going, but—”
Captivated, Taehyung watches as Jeongguk stumbles, his words tumbling faster out of his mouth than he probably means to, a deep blush sneaking up his cheeks the deeper into his sentence he gets.
Someone interrupts him, snapping Jeongguk’s attention to the man immediately.
“You told your date this is a BDSM club? WHISK? My firstborn baby?”
The man who stands beside them is short in stature, which he makes up for in presence. Sharp but glimmering eyes, unblemished skin, and icy blonde hair that makes his skin glow.
Jeongguk stares at him, his shoulders deflating when he realizes it’s someone he knows.
“Hello, hyung.”
The man raises a brow. “I would like a bit more enthusiasm after I got you a table at the very last minute, Gguk.”
“You are the best,” Jeongguk deadpans, then he looks at Taehyung. “This is Park Jimin, my best friend. He also owns this place. The restaurant,” he clarifies. “Not a sex club.”
“Oh, shit!” Taehyung says, realizing who is standing in front of him. “It’s an honor to meet you. Thank you so much for getting us in, especially during restaurant week.”
“See? Appreciation,” Jimin emphasizes, sticking his tongue out at Jeongguk who rolls his eyes. “And it’s lovely to meet you, too. I thought Jeongguk was lying when he said he scored himself a date with you, but I definitely believed him when he told me you are even more beautiful in person.”
Jeongguk groans, thumping his head on the table. The silverware rattles under the weight.
“I fucking hate you,” Jeongguk groans into the table cloth. “Please leave.”
Taehyung and Jimin burst into laughter.
“All jokes aside, it is an honor to have you here. Please let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen, but Jeongin, your server, will take excellent care of you.”
Jimin bows, offering a warm smile before he turns, but not without lightly kicking Jeongguk’s leg as he goes.
Pink still colors Jeongguk’s cheeks when he looks up to lock eyes with Taehyung.
“So you know Park Jimin?”
Jeongguk scrunches his nose.
“We were neighbors growing up. And then we were roommates until like… two years ago. Don’t worry, we are working on growing out of our weird codependency, but I should warn you that I still go over for dinner every Thursday. And… like, I promise I didn’t take you here to be pretentious, or anything, it’s just—restaurant week is insane and everything decent was booked, and I know the food is good, so...”
Somehow, he manages to get the entire sentence out in one breath.
“WHISK will certainly do,” Taehyung says with a chuckle. “It’s not like it isn’t the highest rated restaurant in town, or anything. I’ve actually tried to get in here a few times. Unsuccessfully.”
Jeongguk stops fiddling with his lip ring. “They turned you down?”
“I didn’t mention my name.”
“To be completely honest with you, it’s a little overhyped. The menu isn’t that great.”
“Does Jimin know you think that?”
“Oh, absolutely. I was crushed when he curated the menu. But, he lets me order off the secret menu when I come. He does deserve all of this success, though. He’s earned it.”
“As he has earned the right to tease you as your best friend,” Taehyung responds. “Did you really tell him I am more handsome in person?”
Jeongguk closes his eyes. “I was hoping you didn’t hear.”
It really was hard to focus on anything after that, but Taehyung isn’t going to admit to that.
“Oh, I heard it. And I’d like to hear more about it, actually.”
“I bet this is why your dates crash and burn. Because you fish for compliments. Some people may find it off-putting, but you’re lucky I’m a loser, too.”
A laugh sticks in Taehyung’s throat, too loud even in the boisterous atmosphere of the restaurant. He slaps a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late, the couple next to them turning around with inquisitive eyes.
It takes them a second, but they soon realize who he is, the surprise colored in their eyes even if they try to hide it.
“I’m so sorry for the interruption,” Taehyung mouths, bowing his head in apology. “Enjoy your meal.”
Across from him, Jeongguk coughs into his napkin, a piss-poor attempt at hiding his laughter. He even turns to the side to compose himself, but his grin stretches wide across his face.
Jeongguk is intoxicating.
Easy to tease and enthralling to watch, then he fires something like that off, putting Taehyung right back into his place. And not for a second that he’s spent in his presence has he made Taehyung feel like he’s too much, or too little. They just fit without any expectation, a comforting feeling in a world where he feels like he’s somehow never enough.
“You know what, that’s a fair call out,” he says once he’s recovered. “So is this a date?”
An instant wave of panic seems to wash over Jeongguk. Taehyung hurries to speak, not keen on Jeongguk getting the wrong idea.
“To be clear, I want it to be,” Taehyung adds. “But we never did clarify.”
Jeongguk’s shoulders sag when the tension releases.
“Yes,” he says, unwavering. “And I was hoping you’d make a good enough impression to make it past the first one.”
“I’ll do my best. Truly,” Taehyung says, laughing at himself. “But I need to know what the deal is with the lip ring. Is it new? You didn’t have it when we ran into each other at SAPPHIRE, but he following morning, you did. That timeline seems… interesting.”
It must be a habit, how his tongue darts out to play with it.
Taehyung stares.
“It’s not new, but I was in the middle of switching it out when Donghyun texted me and told me he wasn’t joining me at SAPPHIRE for the event. I just forgot to put it back in. Somehow, I woke up with it again the next morning. Not sure when I put it back in, but, yeah… that whole night is a bit blurry, as we know.”
“I remember it quite well.”
Jeongguk groans. “Please don’t remind me.”
“I’m fairly sure I’ll tease you for it forever. The absolute thrill that shot down my spine at being flirted with so openly? Haven’t felt alive like that in years.”
He takes a swig of his sparkling water.
“I thought you were going to arrive early and order me some pink moscato?”
Taehyung leans back in the chair.
“I have this terrible character flaw, and it’s that I arrive early to everything in my life. It’s terribly uncool. So instead of arriving early today, I walked around outside and was equally as uncool, just so I could arrive right on time. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m not cool.”
Jeongguk snickers. “I think the fact that you keep using cool like you are makes you… uncool.”
“Where’s our server?” Taehyung asks, whipping his head around. “I think it’s time for pink moscato.”
Jeongguk’s light laugh makes his stomach flutter.
“Imagine someone seeing you out there, walking around just to kill time. I can just picture you pacing back and forth.”
“Thankfully I was in the back alley. Which, when I think about it, makes it all the more weird.”
Though the place to be seen in town, WHISK isn’t showy. The menu is curated perfectly with authentic, farm-to-table ingredients that make for a balanced meal. Taehyung is fairly certain he spots at least one familiar face in the dining room, but patrons mind their own business, allowing people to fly under the radar as they wish.
Jeongguk, however, recommends that he order on their behalf. Their server, who jokes familiarly with Jeongguk, doesn’t even question him when he orders the braised short rib that isn’t listed on the menu, even allowing him to make modifications to the dish.
Impressed, Taehyung look at him across the table.
“They keep short rib on hand for you to just… order something that isn’t on the menu?”
Jeongguk smiles over the rim of his waterglass.
“Not really,” he admits, gnawing on his bottom lip. “I pestered Jimin-hyung about it when I asked him to get me in here. I told him it was a travesty when he didn’t include it on the menu. So, he makes it for me when I ask nicely.”
“I have a feeling you didn’t ask nicely.”
“I didn’t,” Jeongguk confirms, grinning at him. “And I did also pull the ‘I’m going on a date with Kim Taehyung’ card, which helped.”
Uncharacteristic heat travels up Taehyung’s cheeks, but he prays the lighting is dark enough to conceal it.
“Ah, so you used my name to get a reservation here tonight. Not even I have done that. Please tell me exactly how you did it so I can call and make a reservation later.”
Jeongguk burst into laughter.
“To be fair, I told Jimin he had to get me a table tonight, because scoring a date with you is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me, and he—” Jeongguk snaps his mouth shut quickly, clearing his throat. “That’s not at all what I said, actually. I just asked nicely. Forget anything I said before that.”
Taehyung is so fucking endeared by him, and he has a feeling that Jeongguk is utterly oblivious to his own charm and presence. It might be for the best, because he wonders how dangerous he would be if he knew just how attractive he is.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” Taehyung says, taking a sip of his sparkling water. On most dates, he’s at least a glass of wine in by now, but tonight, the buzz under his skin has nothing to do with alcohol—only the company he keeps. “If it makes you feel better, I was terrified to text you and ask to see you again.”
Jeongguk’s sparkling eyes go wide.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m really not.”
“I don’t remember exactly what I said to you at SAPPHIRE, you know, but I’m fairly sure what you told me of that night indicated I was… fairly attracted to you.”
“I’m paraphrasing, but it was definitely something like ‘you’re the–’”
“Nope!” Jeongguk cuts off, shaking his head vigorously. “We’re moving on! How many siblings do you have?”
Conversation flows easily, the kind that segues from one topic to another without the awkward pauses and heavy expectations that Taehyung has grown accustomed to. He learns about Jeongguk’s family, and the struggles of choosing an unconventional career that isn’t honorable nor sustainable, and the obstacles he has navigated as he built his career. Then there’s Jimin, the best friend who stood by him and upfronted the cash for his first gaming computer, because he was the only one to believe in him when no one else did.
And Taehyung tells him about Seokjin and Namjoon, and the unwavering trust he has in them both. They laugh about his early struggles in the industry, when he had to ration out his ramen to ensure he could eat between job bookings. Somehow, Jeongguk even gets him to whip out his first commercial—the one he begged his management company to scrape off the internet, but for masochistic reasons unknown to him, he keeps a copy on his phone that he shows Jeongguk.
Before he knows it, they’ve finished their meals, and when he is ready to pay for them, Jimin makes another appearance and tells them they will never pay for a meal as long as he owns the place.
The employee exit dumps them right back to the alleyway where he paced earlier. A cook stands off to the right on his smoke break, but he pays them no mind, nodding a goodbye before he turns his attention back to his phone again.
Jeongguk shoves his hands into his pocket, the early summer night a little chillier than both of them expected. They haven’t talked about where they go from here, but neither of them question it as they make their way around the corner toward the river.
Unsurprisingly, it bustles with people on a Friday night. Couples holding hands, parents chasing after their children, even a few crazy people who are out running as it nears eleven pm. A city that truly never sleeps—one he doesn’t see nearly enough, he realizes.
They’ve just barely dodged a three year old on the loose when Taehyung’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Few people make it past the do not disturb feature at this hour, which means it must be fairly important.
He fishes it out of his pocket, a little nervous of what it could be.
It makes him laugh.
“I just got a text from Yoongi,” he says, angling his phone in Jeongguk’s direction. “He says there are unconfirmed reports of us dining at WHISK tonight.”
The river sparkles in the background, the reflection bouncing in Jeongguk’s eyes as he holds eye contact with Taehyung. A mask covers the bottom half of his face, but it doesn’t matter, the smile evident in the crinkle at the corner of his eyes.
“Did you respond?”
“I didn’t. And he followed up with a text that Park Jimin denied it when he asked him about it, so he wants to know what I’m up to. Your best friend is a good guy.”
Jeongguk comes to a halt, narrowing his gaze.
“Jimin texted him back? In the middle of the night during restaurant week?”
“I guess?”
“He always leaves me on read,” Jeongguk mutters, shaking his head. “What the hell. He doesn’t even know Yoongi.”
Taehyung laughs.
“I’m going to tell him his source is wrong. Not because I don’t want to confirm that I’m out with you, but because I want to fuck with him. He never cares this much, but I think it still bothers him that he doesn’t know who leaked the photos of us, and now he is overcompensating for it.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Jeongguk says, his eyebrows raising. “I’m in. Let’s do it.”
Taehyung texts him back, telling him that his source is incorrect. He’s at home watching a movie, and just to sell the lie, he attaches a photo he took of his TV the other day when he was watching one of Seokjin’s old movies.
A white lie hasn’t hurt anyone.
They are absolutely fucked in the off chance that a photo of them out and about circulates, but he feels they’re incognito enough, the masks concealing most of their faces.
Jeongguk looks around them. Couples are walking hand in hand down the riverwalk, a few seated in the grass as they watch the watershow dance across the river. It’s… a normal night out, and Taehyung realizes he hasn’t done something like this in years.
“Go stand over there,” Jeongguk directs suddenly, pointing in the distance where there’s an open spot by the railing. “Look out on the water. Make it look aesthetic. You know what to do. You’ve been on billboards and shit.”
Taehyung probably should ask why, but he finds himself following along, trailing over to the railing without question. Hues of purples, blues and reds flash along the water show, spraying the otherwise still river in a colorful dance.
As instructed, he leans his elbows against the railing, dropping his shoulders into a relaxed stance as he looks out on the view. It doesn’t take long until Jeongguk jogs up to him, their arms brushing as he takes his place next to him.
He angles the phone to show off the photo.
It’s an impressive shot, the watershow the focal point of the frame, with Taehyung in the corner, looking out far in the distance. One could say it’s accidental that he even made his way into the photo. Jeongguk clearly has an eye for the aesthetics of a good shot, and he isn’t sure you can even tell that it’s Taehyung in the photo.
“Do you care if I post it on Instagram?” Jeongguk asks, his eyes sweeping over the screen again. “I won’t tag you, and you can’t really tell that it’s you. And it will drive Yoongi up the fucking wall.”
Taehyung laughs softly under his mask. “Go ahead. Caption it something romantic about walks by the river, or whatever.”
Unlike Taehyung, Jeongguk is decisive, not appearing to think twice about the caption he types up. He fiddles with the settings and filters, curating an image to fit perfectly into his Instagram feed.
After he clicks post, he looks up from the screen, the glimmer in his eyes dampening just slightly.
“It’s getting late,” he says a bit regretfully.
Taehyung tilts his head. “You’re trying to get rid of me.”
Immediately, Jeongguk shakes his head. He pulls the mask down beneath his chin, putting his devastatingly beautiful face into full view.
“No, that’s not it.”
Taehyung has a feeling that it isn’t, but there’s something about the way Jeongguk flusters when he teases him.
So he leans into it.
“You stay up streaming all night, so I know damn well you don’t have a conventional circadian rhythm. I can’t imagine your bedtime is approaching,” Taehyung says. “Which means you’re trying to get rid of me.”
Jeongguk holds his hands up.
“No, I’m not, but I didn’t plan any further for this date, so I’m kind of, I don’t know, winging it,” he says, waving his hands around. “And I don’t want to assume you want to be out with me all night.”
He looks down on his feet, shuffling on the spot.
“I think you should assume that I do.”
Jeongguk bites down on his lip.
Even in the dead of night, Taehyung catches the surprise that flickers in Jeongguk’s eyes.
“Oh.”
A traitorous flutter makes itself present in his stomach. Taehyung doesn’t want to go home. All he’ll do is lie in his bed and think about Jeongguk—when he’ll see him again, when it’s appropriate to text him without appearing desperate. The overthinking will start, but for some reason, none of that happens when he’s here with him.
“I don’t really want this night to end, if I’m being honest.”
Jeongguk looks at him, scans his eyes across his face, as if he’s thinking about what to say next. There’s no way Taehyung has read this all wrong, but there’s still a small part of him that braces for rejection. For what always happens at the end of the night when he doesn’t live up to the expectation that people build around him.
But it never comes.
“Do you want to come back to mine?”
The second the words are out, Jeongguk draws a breath, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.
He continues.
“Not to fu—” he cuts himself off abruptly, closing his eyes for a second. “I mean, not that I don’t want that, because I’m—actually, I’m just not going to finish that sentence. I, uh, was going to stream tonight. I kind of always do on Fridday nights, and I’m inviting you over for that, if you want to, I don’t know, make the evening last a little longer. I would love the company. When I stream. That’s all. Well, not all. But—”
Taehyung wants to reach out and feel Jeongguk’s cheeks, just to see if they’re as hot as they look. A flood of relief rushes through him when he realizes they are on the same page.
He bites back his laugh. “If I asked you to finish that first sentence, would you?”
Jeongguk shakes his head right away.
“I think I’d rather jump into the river.”
Taehyung can’t hold back, so he throws his head back as he laughs. When he speaks, he makes sure his voice is steady.
“I’d love to come back to yours. For whatever it is you want to do.”
He nudges Jeongguk with his shoulder, then he starts to walk again. There’s a buzz humming quietly under his skin, a thrum of excitement that he hasn’t felt in ages.
In a turn of events he didn’t anticipate, Jeongguk lives in the same apartment building as one of his close friends. He wonders just how many times they may have crossed paths without knowing. Has he passed him by on his way to the elevator? Has he caught the sight of his back in the parking garage? The thought almost makes him laugh, because he normally isn’t in the business of romanticizing his life like he lives in a rom-com.
Floor-to-ceiling windows occupy the east facing wall of Jeongguk’s home, showing off a stunning view of the river and the city in the background. Soft creams and blushes paint the interior warm and cozy, the complete opposite of the dark room he saw on his live stream the other day. In the corner of the room is an odd-shaped piece of furniture, and it takes a few seconds before Taehyung realizes.
A cat tree, with the perfect vantage point of the city.
At the same time, a squeaky meow sounds from the hallway. Soft paws patter against the floor, and a moment later, a gray furry thing comes flying around the corner with ferocious speed. She tumbles into Jeongguk’s legs, unapologetic and majestic as she meows.
“Hi, baby girl,” Jeongguk greets, bending down to scratch behind her the cat’s ear. She purrs in content, buffing her face against his fingers. Jeongguk chuckles softly, looking up at Taehyung. “This is Kit-Kat.”
“Hi, Kit-Kat,” Taehyung greets, squatting down to greet her on her level. “Sorry to barge in unannounced.”
Kit-Kat looks up, her whiskers trembling with her sniff. Taehyung isn’t sure she’s going to give him the time of day, but she walks over, rubbing her face against his hand.
“Oh, she normally doesn’t like people.”
“Same, girl,” Taehyung reassures, not quite daring to move. “I didn’t take you for a cat dad. It’s cute.”
“Jimin adopted her against my will when we lived together, and now we have joint custody. I drop her off on Sundays.”
“That’s a little crazy.”
Jeongguk doesn’t deny it. “We’re working on the codependency piece.”
Kit-Kat scurries away, hopping up on her tree in the corner.
“Don’t walk too close to it,” Jeongguk warns when he takes him down the hallway to the rest of the apartment. “She will swat you.”
Taehyung automatically takes a few steps to his right.
There are stories in Jeongguk’s apartment. The art on the wall is carefully chosen, each with its own backstory and history. Trinkets and souvenirs from travel are sprinkled across his home—some more subtle pieces, like the antique books in the bookshelf, and the diffuser from his favorite hotel in Japan. Then there are the more obvious ones, like the giant street sign he apparently “came across” in Amsterdam one night. Memories and stories are etched into every surface. Not just a house, but a home.
When they reach the kitchen, Jeongguk pulls two beers out of the fridge.
“So it’s only pink moscato that you don’t drink?” Taehyung asks teasingly.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “I can handle one beer, you know.”
Taehyung takes the beer, following Jeongguk who trails deeper into the apartment.
Something shifts in Jeongguk when he walks into his workspace. His shoulders square and his spine straightens, as if the confidence washes over him in a way it doesn’t translate any place else.
In here, he’s truly at home.
A plushy couch sits to the right of his work station, out of view from the camera, from what Taehyung remembers from Jeongguk’s latest stream. It’s worn in a few places, with a small rip in the left cushion. Clearly well loved.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” Jeongguk says, walking over to input his password, the computer buzzing to life. “The couch is much more comfortable than it looks.”
Taehyung is taken aback. “You’re good with me being in here? When you… do your thing?”
Jeongguk nods, taking his seat. “You might get bored, though.”
Kit-Kat makes herself comfortable, hopping into Jeongguk’s lap where she curls up into a ball. Without looking, he reaches down and scratches behind her ear. Taehyung wonders if her purr sounds over the stream, loud enough for him to catch on the other side of the room.
Muscle memory dictates Jeongguk’s movements. The ease in which he leans back into his chair, his forearms resting comfortably at the end of the table as he types on his keyboard. Even his energy shifts—something sharper, his eyes flying across the screen as he fires up the stream.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m late,” he says, bowing his head in apology, though there’s nothing apologetic about the smile behind his eyes. “But I’m here! And I have a beta version of FYA for tonight. Hopefully that makes up for my tardiness.”
A headset rests on his head, and he adjusts it off to the side, freeing the side that faces Taehyung.
“As always, donations are entered into the raffle. I’ll keep it open for an hour, and four people will get invite codes today,” he says. “This month’s charity is the Center for Performing Arts. I’ll post the total donation total after the stream is over.”
Jeongguk had mentioned it in passing at dinner, how he invites his viewers to play with him during special releases. He’ll partner with a charity of his choice, and each donation earns them an entry into the raffle. Four randomly selected people will have the chance to join him to play whatever it is he is exclusively offering. Most nights when he invites people in, it’s just for the fun of it, but on the occasion that he has a new, hyped release, he partners with local charities to try to help make a difference.
Fascinated, Taehyung watches with rapt attention as Jeongguk gets to work. Terms he doesn’t understand are thrown out as Jeongguk narrates his movements, but Taehyung gets the gist of what’s happening when he throws his head back and groans, or when a string of profanities flow like music from his mouth.
“Your comments are coming way too fast today,” Jeongguk says, shaking his head at himself as he makes a mistake. He has no problem multi-tasking, the conversation he keeps with himself flowing easily. “So many questions about my love life. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m a fucking loser. I have no game.”
Mid-sip of his beer, Taehyung chokes, not managing to catch himself before he coughs. Jeongguk, ever the professional, keeps his composure, nothing giving him away but a slight twitch of his lip as it morphs into a tiny smirk. Taehyung can’t say he’d be able to not whip his head around if it were him.
It takes all he has to not cough again.
Jeongguk keeps his eyes on the screen, answering a few more questions, completely unbothered by what’s happening next to him. A true professional. Taehyung is too curious about the comments on the screen, but he can’t be caught pulling up Jeongguk’s stream on his phone while in the same room.
He might be utterly pathetic, but there’s no reason for Jeongguk to know that yet.
When Jeongguk finally does turn to look at Taehyung, his eyes glimmer.
“I’m so sorry,” Taehyung mouths, then, a little louder but not loud enough to be heard, he adds, “but you do have game.”
Another side of Jeongguk emerges in front of the screen—confidence that only comes from knowing something inside and out, years of practice etched into him. Playfully, he pokes his tongue into his cheek, his eyes dancing over Taehyung where he sits on the couch.
Then, without a beat, he turns back to the screen.
“To answer your questions about my relationship status, I’m afraid to report my heart belongs to Kit-Kat,” he says, reaching down to scoop her up into his arms. Unbothered, she allows him to dangle her in front of the camera, her fuzzy ears tickling against the side of Jeongguk’s face. “Be nice to her. She’s been asking for privacy until now, but I think it’s time I show her off. Isn’t she stunning?”
He angles her, showing her off from each side. She’s got more patience than any cat Taehyung has ever crossed paths with.
Taehyung bites down on his bottom lip, chuckling quietly to himself. He catches a glimpse of the comments flashing across the screen again. He commends Jeongguk for the diversion tactic, even if it comes at the expense of Kit-Kat’s exposure and sudden fame.
“I share her with my best friend Park Jimin,” Jeongguk goes on to say, diverting the conversation even further. “He got her when we were roommates, and we couldn’t decide who got her when we moved apart, so now we share custody. I’m obviously her favorite.”
On cue, Kit-Kat meows, demanding to be put down. Jeongguk chuckles, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he settles her back in his lap.
Endeared by the exchange, Taehyung pulls up his text messages. Before he can think too much about his actions, he types up a text to Jeongguk.
Taehyung
I wish you would have told me you’re already spoken for
How could I possibly compete with Kit-Kat?
The ping of Jeongguk’s phone sounds off, his eyes darting down to the desk where it lies. Immediately, he snatches it up.
His eyes dance while his fingers fly over the screen.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
dont distract meTaehyung
Want me to leave?jeon jeongguk 🖤
dont you dare
Taehyung
Oh, bossy. Keep going
Jeongguk runs his tongue across his bottom teeth, shaking his head to himself before he tosses the phone back onto the desk.
“Sorry, I am so distracted today,” he says to his viewers. “I put my phone on DND. I’m locking in.”
There’s amusement dancing in his voice, and as fun as it is to flirt with Jeongguk like this, Taehyung put his phone away, too. As quietly as he can muster, he sinks into the couch. He understands why it’s well loved, the comfort of a soft couch wrapping around him.
In front of the screen, Jeongguk talks—about the game, what he’s doing, and what he’s been up to for the last few days. When he focuses, he slows down just slightly, unintentionally dragging the ends of his words out.
And before Taehyung knows it, his eyes close, the sounds of Jeongguk’s voice lulling him right to sleep.
****
“Hyung?” a soft voice calls, a hand on his shoulder gently shaking him awake. “Hyung?”
Taehyung blinks, slowly opening his eyes. Jeongguk sits on the table in front of him, tracing the side of Taehyung’s arm to coax him out of his slumber.
“I’m not sleeping.”
His eyelids are heavy, but he blinks a few times, shaking himself from sleep. After years in the industry, he can sleep anywhere—on set, in a car, on a plane. Any unfamiliar place, really. But it’s never quite this deep, his body desperate to sink further into the couch cushion that engulfs him.
There’s a gray, fuzzy blanket draped over his legs.
His stomach flips at the thought of Jeongguk putting it there.
“Mm, okay, but it’s three am, and I know from experience that this couch might seem comfy, but your back will hurt in the morning.”
Taehyung is awake in an instant.
“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it’s so late. I’ll get out of here,” he rushes out.
Jeongguk’s face falls. “I’m not kicking you out.”
Taehyung blinks, coming back to his senses.
“I knew there was more to you inviting me over than just watching you stream.”
“I’m not—no! That’s not—” color flushes Jeongguk’s cheeks. “I promise I didn’t.”
Taehyung reaches out, grabbing Jeongguk’s knee. He quiets immediately, shutting his mouth as he blinks at Taehyung.
It’s all it takes for his sleepiness to dissipate, his stomach flipping in curiosity at Jeongguk’s eager responsiveness.
“I’m just kidding,” he smooths over with a squeeze. “What were you saying?”
Jeongguk clears his throat, looking down on his feet.
“I was going to tell you to take the spare bedroom. It has clean sheets.”
“Well, I’d hope you wouldn’t put me in dirty sheets,” Taehyung jokes. “It’s fine, I’m happy to catch a cab and go home.”
“No, please take the spare bedroom. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful. And to be completely honest, I lost track of time.”
He scratches the back of his neck, and it isn’t until then that Taehyung realizes he’s wearing glasses.
“You wear glasses,” he stupidly points out.
“I can only stare at the screen for so long while wearing contacts.”
“I bet the people love when you wear those. Especially paired with the tank tops. It’s slutty.”
Perhaps he can blame the hour of the night, delirious from the sleep and company.
Jeongguk chuckles, his cheeks reddening. “Please go to bed.”
A warm laugh bubbles in Taehyung’s throat.
“Alright, alright,” he says, tossing the blanket off. His neck cracks when he tilts his head, proving Jeongguk’s earlier point. “If you insist I spend the night in your bed.”
****
Taehyung wakes to the sound of a loud crash, followed by a sharp meow and the clattering of paws as they hit the marble floor.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jeongguk whisper-yells under his breath, as if he’s trying to keep quiet. “Would you do this at Jimin’s? I don’t fucking think so!”
Coffee grounds lay scattered all over the ground, a jar slowly rolling down the floor on the other side of the kitchen. On the counter, a pot of coffee brews, but Taehyung’s eyes drift to Jeongguk, who’s clutching onto the counter in frustration, the muscles in his broad back dancing as he tightens his grip. His head hangs down, and he must take a second to collect himself, because he springs up a moment later, turning around to face the mess.
In all his shirtless glory.
The late morning sun seeps through the kitchen window, casting soft rays of sunshine across his bare torso. Jeongguk is all golden skin and hard muscles, with an arm and shoulder etched in dark tattoos and messy soft hair atop his head. The traces of sleep still linger across his face, where a soft line from his pillow streaks across his cheek.
And Taehyung loses the ability to fucking speak.
“Fuck. I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jeongguk says, running a hand through his hair. The muscles across his stomach flex with the breath he takes. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not up at this ungodly hour.”
Maybe he can blame the fact that it’s first thing in the morning, which is why he finds his throat croaky and dry when he finally speaks.
“Yes, the ungodly hour of ten thirty am.”
Jeongguk laughs. “I made us coffee.”
“And Kit-Kat didn’t like that?”
“No, she sent that jar right off the counter with her stupid paw,” he sighs, moving over to the cabinet to grab a broom. “I swear she looked me right in the eyes as she did it, too.”
“Did you sleep through her breakfast?”
Jeongguk narrows his eyes. “You two are conspiring against me.”
Taehyung leans against the doorframe. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”
Jeongguk snorts. “Well, she’s been fed.”
He looks down on the floor, then back up to Taehyung. He can’t read Jeongguk’s mind, but he’s fairly certain this is the moment he realizes he’s half-naked in his kitchen, his gaze darting down to his stomach, then back up to Taehyung, his eyes round.
His lips part, but he doesn’t say anything.
It’s too easy to lean into it—to tease him, to make him blush the most beautiful hue of crimson Taehyung has ever seen.
“Don’t get dressed on my account,” he says, pleased when Jeongguk’s cheeks redden in an instant.
For a split-second, Taehyung’s mind wanders, wondering what Jeongguk looks like when he’s tangled into the sheets, sweaty and warm from having be—
He stops himself, clearing his throat before he speaks again. The thought still lingers, but he keeps that to himself.
“Because this is a fantastic way to wake up at such an ungodly hour.”
It’s subtle, but Taehyung does not fail to notice the way his breathing shifts. Quicker, his breaths more shallow.
Not good for his own sanity.
“There’s a towel and a set of sweats in the bathroom for you, if you want to take a shower,” Jeongguk says, clearing his throat. “Coffee will be ready for you when you’re done.”
Taehyung smiles softly, making it a point to keep his eyes fixed on Jeongguk’s.
“Tell me to tone it down, and I will.”
Jeongguk shakes his head immediately. “Don’t. I’m just—”
Taehyung waits for him to finish, but Jeongguk stops mid-sentence.
“I promise I’m not this fucking pathetic all the time,” he finally says, throwing his head back as he chuckles to himself. “It’s just… too early in the morning.”
“Ah, yes. The ungodly hour of ten-thirty am,” Taehyung plays along.
Jeongguk nods. “You get it.”
“Exactly.”
“So I haven’t read this wrong, then?” Taehyung continues, excitement prickling under his skin. God, he can’t remember the last time he felt like this.
“No, you certainly haven’t,” Jeongguk responds. “But please go take a shower before I say anything else embarrassing.”
Taehyung salutes him, laughing to himself as he scurries down the hallway to the guest bathroom.
Kit-Kat sits right around the corner, perking up with a soft meow when she sees him.
“You’re a good wingwoman. That was an excellent view I just woke up to,” he compliments, laughing when she dodges his attempt to scratch her head. “But maybe go apologize to him for that little stunt you just pulled.”
Unfazed, she remains in the corner, and Taehyung decides he better not push his luck.
Jeongguk has left him a towel, toothbrush, and a matching set of sweats. It dawns on him in the shower just how normal it all feels—as if they’re longstanding friends, and taking a shower at his house after spending the night isn’t anything to think twice about.
But it is. It’s unlike any other experience Taehyung has ever had in the dating game, and for a second, he convinces himself it shouldn’t be this easy.
Jeongguk just… rolls with the punches and speaks his mind, even when it comes at the expense of his own embarrassment.
But there aren’t any ulterior motives.
There are no guessing games, no carefully staged dinners or outings to be seen together. He’s just here, living in the moment, as unfamiliar in the territory as Taehyung is.
And Taehyung realizes he hasn’t felt this free in years. Free to speak whatever comes to his mind without the fear of it being repeated in circles where it shouldn’t. Never once have they had a conversation about that—about the boundaries and expectations that come with his life—but the trust is somehow there, a rare thing to find in a world that’s made him curate walls of steel around himself.
There’s a chance that it might come crashing down on him, that he’s somehow got this one all wrong and it isn’t at all what it seems. His gut tells him that it won’t happen, and if it does… Well, that’s a chance Taehyung is willing to take.
It’s Yoongi’s worst nightmare come to life. A relationship without NDAs, without the conversations about public boundaries and what that means in the context of their relationship. It’s real, and it comes with the potential of real-life messiness and awkwardness, something he hasn’t allowed himself to live over the last fifteen years, too caught up in the web he accidentally weaved for himself.
And it’s fucking thrilling.
When he resurfaces from his shower, the kitchen is cleaned up, and much to Taehyung’s dismay, Jeongguk is dressed.
“Oh, bummer,” he says as he takes a seat across from Jeongguk at the kitchen island. “You got dressed.”
Jeongguk smiles, taking a sip of his coffee.
“I figured I’d do you a favor, since you were having a tough time focusing when I wasn’t.”
The comment catches Taehyung off guard, and he throws his head back and laughs.
“You’re not wrong,” he says. “But you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes.
“Do you have plans today?”
“I actually have lunch plans with my mother. It’s a standing thing we do when I’m in town.”
“I take it you travel a lot for work?” Jeongguk asks.
“Mm, I do. I haven’t for the last six months. I’ve been… in a slump. Haven’t found a project that excites me, and I guess I’ve put myself in an official hiatus, of sorts. My agent isn’t happy with me.”
“How come?”
Taehyung pauses, unsure what prompted him to speak so freely. Namjoon hasn’t dared to probe yet, and sharing with Jeongguk doesn’t seem as daunting. He doesn’t have a stake in this game.
He looks out the kitchen window, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.
“Honestly? I’ve just been uninspired. I don’t think burned out is the right word, but I’m just—over the whole industry? The shit that comes with it, I guess. The events, the press, the whole thing. I know I sound super ungrateful right now, because this is not a problem to have. But at some point, the pressure just became too much, I think? I don’t know. I just keep thinking back to the early days of my career when I was excited to just get a script sent my way, you know? That guy worked so hard, and I guess I’ve lost sight of that along the way. Now it’s all about the next big film, the cast, the trends to accompany the promotion on social media… at what point did we stop to like, I don’t know, enjoy the fucking art?”
He doesn’t mean to unload on Jeongguk, but it feels good to speak what he’s never spoken out loud before.
“Do you want to quit acting?”
There’s no judgement in his tone. Just a question in its simplest form, without any apprehension to ask it.
“No,” Taehyung answers truthfully, swallowing the sudden emotion in his throat. “I guess I just…” he takes a moment to pause, to gather his thoughts, but they’re too jumbled all of a sudden, a mess he hasn’t sorted out for himself yet. He isn’t sure it’s fair to just unravel it all here, of all places.
“I’m not going to judge you for whatever it is you want to say,” Jeongguk coaxes, as if he can sense the hesitation. “And I don’t think I have to say this, but I won’t tell anyone about our conversations. Ever.”
Taehyung’s shoulders slump.
“I know you won’t. I guess I feel… inadequate? That I’ve been given his life, this incredible opportunity, and what am I doing with it? Playing pretend on a screen? Chasing the next big thing and collecting awards? For what, exactly? I’ve been working non stop for years, and before I knew it, things grew out of control. My team grew, my reach grew, my opportunities became almost endless. But there are people out there who have actual, meaningful jobs who don’t get paid a fraction of what I do, and here I am complaining about it? I guess I’m just… struggling with that concept. And I’m embarrassed that I haven’t stopped to reflect. I was pulled into this relentless industry and my own ambition. And though I am proud of my work, I’m not proud of how I lost sight of myself and my values amidst all of that.” He pauses, feeling so exposed he wonders if Jeongguk can see into his soul. “And I haven’t said that out loud until now.”
Jeongguk hums, allowing the words to settle between them. The silence isn’t uncomfortable. He’s giving him space to finish his thoughts, a moment to let the words settle into place. Taehyung takes a few breaths to let his heart slow, but he remains quiet.
“I’d challenge you and say you haven’t been given anything at all,” Jeongguk says, rolling his coffee cup between his palms. “You have worked hard for your success. You should never discount your hard work.”
“But I’m not the only one who works hard.”
“No, you’re not,” Jeongguk responds right away. “I feel similarly, in a sense, about my line of work. I sit in front of a computer and play games and talk to strangers. I consider them my friends,” he says, smiling softly at the sentiment. Taehyung realizes there is more weight behind it than he understands. “And I’m not changing the world. I’m not curing cancer. I’m worsening our carbon footprint, not reducing it,” he says, almost exasperated. “But there is someone out there who’s lonely, and when they tune into my stream, I hope I can make them less lonely. There are people who turn on your films and find comfort in knowing every line and every scene. And maybe that’s their saving grace at the end of the day, you know? You are their comfort on a rough day. We might have unconventional jobs, and we might not measure up in the way we perceive that we should, but it doesn’t mean we can’t find value and purpose in the work we are doing. And it doesn’t mean that others don’t already find that in you.”
Unlike Taehyung’s thoughts, Jeongguk’s are articulated, formulated from what only comes from reflection. It makes his chest squeeze tight—there’s understanding woven into his words, someone who’s once been lost, too.
Jeongguk continues. “I partner with a few charities for my streams. It’s my way of giving back to the communities that helped me when I was struggling. I don’t know what that looks like for you. Maybe in mentoring? Charity work? Working with up-and-coming creators who are working as hard as you did when you just started out? I don’t know, I’m just throwing some stuff out there… but maybe it’s worth exploring? And I think you should be proud of yourself for pausing and coming to this realization about yourself. Some people never do, you know. They just continue to live in this void of self pity and misery.”
The weight that’s been nestled on his chest starts to lift—a pressure he didn’t realize he was carrying. At the root of it all, Taehyung is embarrassed of himself. Of the person he’s eroded into without realizing. Like a frog in boiling water, not realizing just how hot the water has gotten.
“I—” he pauses again, allowing himself to feel the weight in his chest. “Thank you for listening, and for being so thoughtful in your response. I don’t think I realized I felt all of this until I started talking. I’m a little embarrassed that I just word vomited on you. This is technically still our first date, and it would be a new way for me to crash and burn, but a crash nonetheless.”
Now he’s fucking rambling, too. He promptly shuts himself up, looking down on his cup.
Jeongguk kicks him beneath the table, his eyebrow raised.
“I still want to see you again. And not that I want it to come at the expense of an existential crisis, but I am glad you’re embarrassed, for once.”
There’s comfort in knowing that this is all there has to be around the topic. Even if he wanted to continue the conversation, his alarm sounds off, reminding him that it’s time to leave for lunch.
Jeongguk stands, taking their coffee cups and placing them in the sink. He seems like the kind of guy who does his dishes right away. Not like Taehyung, who annoys even himself when he leaves stuff there for two days and watches in exasperation as the pile grows larger.
They’ve spent more than twelve hours together, and yet, Taehyung doesn’t want to leave.
They both linger by the door, Jeongguk watching as Taehyung puts his shoes on.
“I meant to ask you,” he says, smiling as he takes the bag of his dirty clothes from Jeongguk. His mother is going to rip him to shreds for showing up to lunch in sweats, but she’ll change her tune when he tells her why. “Do all your dates spend the night?”
Jeongguk shifts his weight to his other leg, tilting his head.
“No. I can’t say that they do.”
Taehyung takes pleasure in knowing that.
“Good,” he says, taking a step forward. “And I take it most of them also don’t wear your clothes when they leave?”
Jeongguk darts his tongue out to toy with his lip ring. Perhaps it’s subconscious, but Taehyung would like to think it isn’t. He wants Taehyung to look.
“Can’t say that they do that, either,” Jeongguk responds, his eyes flitting between Taehyung’s. “You look good in them.”
Warmth flutters under his skin, reminding him how exhilarating this can be—the careful dance, the intricate balance of pushing and pulling. Of excitement and apprehension, new moments that etch themselves into butterflies and hitching breaths.
He doesn’t know who moves first, too consumed with the warmth that radiates from Jeongguk when they step into each other’s space.
The fabric of his pants brush against Jeongguk’s, then there’s a hand on his hip. Warm and anchoring. A pause, eyes flitting between each other for a final check in.
Against his ribcage, his heart hammers, hitching his breath at the top of his lungs.
Then—
A meow, followed by a shriek, and the clatter of plastic against the ground.
Startled, they pull away, neither of them able to get a word out as they watch Kit-Kat barrel around the corner, stuck in a hanger that trails her even as she sprints at an alarming speed. She must have tangled herself in it in the closet, and now she’s stuck facing her fate.
Frustrated, Jeongguk tips his head down and groans.
“I’m gonna give her away one of these days.”
Taehyung can’t help it, his laugh filtering out between them.
“Just yesterday you said your heart belongs to her.”
Jeongguk sighs.
“Yesterday I didn’t know she was going to interrupt that.”
Taehyung smirks. “And what exactly did she interrupt?”
It’s seamless, just how easily Jeongguk falls into his trap.
“Don’t make me say it.”
Another beautiful blush climbs up Jeongguk’s throat, his one more subtle, but Taehyung catches it either way.
Slowly, he reaches out to grab Jeongguk’s shirt. He steps into his space again, his eyes trained on Jeongguk’s, just to ensure he doesn’t miss a thing. He knows he has to go, but he wishes he had just a few more minutes to stay—a moment to kiss him like he wants to so badly, but he knows he’s working on borrowed time.
So instead, he reaches out, placing his finger beneath Jeongguk’s chin. He tips it back ever so slightly, but it’s enough to make Jeongguk’s lips part in anticipation.
Taehyung’s heart hammers, and as badly as he wants to kiss him, he knows this isn’t a moment to rush. He wants to take his time to savor the taste of his lips on his own. Swallow down every breath.
Just the thought of it makes his skin thrum, his heart picking up speed.
“Okay, I won’t make you say it,” Taehyung whispers, slowly scraping his thumb against the side of Jeongguk’s jaw. “And if I didn’t have to go, I’d kiss you right now,” he continues, daring to trace the base of his lip ring. Pure torture, but he can’t help himself. “But I’d rather we take our time the next time we see each other, so I’ll kiss you properly, then.”
A soft sigh slips from Jeongguk’s lips, his eyes dazed, just how Taehyung feels inside. It takes all the strength he has to walk away, but he does, not daring to breathe until the door clicks shut behind him.
_________________
“Do you want to tell me why your PR guy is calling WHISK and asking if you and Kim Taehyung were having dinner together?”
Jimin places his hands on his hips, impatiently waiting for Jeongguk to answer. Behind him, Kit-Kat meows, expecting dinner an hour earlier than usual. She’s got Jimin trained like a fucking dog, because at Jeongguk’s house, she certainly doesn’t eat dinner at six o’clock.
“I don’t know why he’s calling you.”
“So you’re telling me you didn’t tell him that you’re seeing one of his other clients? I’m not a hot shot like you, but that sounds like a bad move to me.”
“We’re not seeing each other.”
“You’re going on dates,” Jimin points out.
“We’ve been on one date.”
“And you’re taking him to my party at ONYX.”
Jeongguk scrunches his nose, looking down at Kit-Kat who stares at him like he can somehow solve her dinner problem.
“Oh my God!” Jimin says when it dawns on him. “You haven’t asked him yet!”
It’s not that he’s avoided it. He’s just… decided to take his time asking him.
“I’ll ask him later.”
Another meow sounds out, this one scratchier. Jimin’s had enough, and he pulls the food out of the fridge, tossing it onto the kitchen counter. It lands on Jeongguk’s phone, sending it down the counter a few centimeters.
And Jeongguk sees what’s about to happen before he can stop it.
With superhuman speed, Jimin snatches the phone, taking off into a fucking sprint down the hallway. Barefooted, he has better traction than Jeongguk in his house slippers. He almost eats it around the corner, sliding out of the slippers right as the door to the bathroom closes behind Jimin.
The click of the lock turning solidifies Jeongguk’s fate.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” he groans, desperately thumping his fist against the door. “Don’t you fucking dare, hyung.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” Jimin sing-songs, the lie terribly melodic in his high-pitched voice. “Oh, you changed your passcode, let me—” he trails off, a few seconds of silence following. Then, “Ah! You’re so predictable. Kit-Kat’s birthday. 061324.”
“I’ll kick down this fucking door. I’m being serious.”
With a thump, he drops his forehead against the door.
“No, you won’t,” Jimin responds, correct as always. “Okay, let me embrace my inner loser and text him. How about ‘Jimin is throwing an anniversary party at ONYX on Saturday. Want to come? He promised pink moscato.”
“Absolutely not! Hyung! Come on!”
The panic rises in his voice.
On the other side of the door, Jimin laughs hysterically.
“Oh! He read it right away. How cute,” Jimin says, clearly surprised by it. “Awww. He responded already! ‘Pink Moscato? Count me in.’ See? That wasn’t so bad. You’re a fucking loser, buddy. This guy is into you. What’s your problem?”
Jeongguk is both horrified and relieved. He slumps down against the door, pressing his back against it.
“I hate you.”
“That’s a lie.”
The lock unclicks, followed by the thump of Jimin’s body hitting the door. It’s not moving under Jeongguk’s weight.
“Ouch!”
“Serves you right,” Jeongguk mutters. “You can stay in there. Enjoy the consequences of your actions.”
“Move!”
“Give me my phone back.”
“I can’t give you the phone back until you let me out!”
Jimin bangs so hard on the door that it reverberates through Jeongguk’s back. He really can’t get out, and Jeongguk considers staying put just for the sole sake of annoying Jimin.
“Jeongguk-ah, for fuck’s sake,” Jimin whines.
With a grunt, Jeongguk sighs and scoots off to the side. He remains on the floor, looking up at Jimin who finally exits the bathroom.
He’s too pleased, grinning from ear to ear as he waves the phone in the air. There’s a notification on his screen, another unread text message, but he doesn’t seem to notice, instead tossing the phone into Jeongguk’s lap.
He plops down next to him on the floor.
“And now you have a second date.”
Jeongguk’s mouth runs away from him.
“Technically, it’s our third date if you could the morning we had breakfast after he stayed over.”
Jimin gasps, patting his thigh in rapid succession.
“You fucked?! Why don’t you tell me this stuff?!” he wails. “Jeongguk-ah, babe, come on.”
“We didn’t fuck! He watched me stream.”
Immediately, Jimin deflates. “What kind of a weird kink is that?”
“I asked him if he wanted to come over when he said he didn’t want the night to end.”
Jimin stares at him, dumbfounded.
“And I’m sure watching you stream was at the top of the list of things he wanted to do at your house after your date,” Jimin says. “Read the room, Gguk.”
“Hyung…”
“Oh god, don’t whine,” Jimin says, pulling his arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders. “I’m just teasing you. Tell me about your date. I promise I want to know.”
Jeongguk refuses to look at him. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“I know that you do,” Jimin coaxes, nudging his shoulder into him. “I know you’re dying to tell me.”
Jeongguk chuckles softly as he picks at his sweatpants.
He’s not wrong. He does want to tell him.
“He’s so fucking hot, hyung. He makes me all—ugh, I don’t even know,” he says, unable to ignore the warmth in his stomach. “Your stupid cat interrupted us right as he was about to kiss me. I almost put her up for adoption.”
Jimin’s entire body shakes with his laughter.
“I’m sorry, but I fear that’s retaliation for that one time you locked her in the closet for an entire day. She’s been waiting for the right moment to avenge you, and I fear that was it.”
“That’s because she’s your cat.”
“You have to kiss him this weekend, though. And you have let me know immediately after how it is. He looks like a phenomenal kisser.”
He’s been thinking about him non-stop, playing their almost-kiss over and over in his head.
“I’ll keep you posted,” Jeongguk mumbles. “You’d like him. He’s—” he takes a moment, his mind wandering to Taehyung again. His smile, the way his brows scrunch when he thinks about something. “Heads turn when he walks into rooms, and I swear he doesn’t even bat an eye. It’s like he doesn’t care. He’s so unbothered, and not in a bad way, either. There’s just this ease around him. He fits in anywhere. The complete opposite of me, you know? But when I’m with him, I also don’t care… it’s like the rest of the world just kind of fades. I don’t stress so much, and he doesn’t make me feel bad about me being me.”
Jeongguk knows he’s a little quirky—not always equipped with the right thing to say, not quick to jump on an opportunity to be spontaneous or one to go with the flow. It’s been a problem in his past relationships, the ones that fizzled out when Jeongguk wanted more than just sex. Throw in his chosen career and the endless hours that have gone into honing his craft, and it’s the perfect recipe for judgement and disaster. He’s always felt more comfortable behind the screen, the place where he could escape and not feel so lonely.
The fact that Taehyung didn’t even bat an eye when Jeongguk asked him to come over for his stream still baffles him.
Jimin hums as he listens, scratching his fingers against the back of Jeongguk’s neck. Despite all the teasing, no one stands taller in Jeongguk’s corner than Jimin does. The one who knows him better than anyone else, the one who’s always embraced his faults and flaws and the intricacies of his life.
“He makes you feel at ease,” Jimin points out, his fingers gentle as they thread through Jeongguk’s hair. “You deserve nothing less than that, and you better not settle for anything but the best.”
Jeongguk leans into Jimin’s touch. “He does. Which is why I’m so scared of fucking it up.”
Jimin thinks about his words for a second.
“That’s not an unreasonable fear. I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Taehyung, based on what I know about your… evolving relationship, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be anxious about it. But I think you should remember how he makes you feel when you’re with him, and lean into that when you get into your head about texting him. He read your text immediately, Gguk. I mean, the second that notification came in, he swiped it.”
Jeongguk scrunches his nose. “He watches my streams.”
“Oh, so he’s a fucking loser, too?” Jimin says right away, but his soft smile tells Jeongguk everything he needs to know. He’s happy for him. “Who would have thought?”
“I think you’re jealous.”
“I mean, yeah, have you seen the man?” Jimin fans his hand by his face exaggeratedly. “He’s gonna undress and you’re gonna blow it. You’ll come right on the sp—”
“Oh my god, hyung, please stop!” Jeongguk launches forward, pressing his hand against Jimin’s mouth to quiet him. The fucker licks him. Jeongguk pull his hand away. “I will not. Give me some credit.”
“I’m still on the fence here… I mean, look at him.”
“I have! And I’m starting to feel a little territorial now. Please stay away from him.”
Jimin wags his brows, but he’s the first to stand, offering his hands for Jeongguk to help. He hauls him up to his feet, grabbing him by the shoulders to lock eyes with him.
To this day, Jeongguk revels in the fact that Jimin is shorter than him.
Intense eyes stare up at him, a little wild and definitely dangerous.
“Go lock this man the fuck down,” he says seriously, his stare unwavering. “Please. I didn’t do all this sprinting down the hallway with your phone for nothing, okay?”
Jeongguk playfully knees him in the stomach.
He’ll do his best.
_________________
“I’ve been thinking.”
Taehyung tucks his feet beneath himself, scooting further into the pillows. Seokjin fought tooth and nail to buy the more expensive couch, and Namjoon finally gave in. It’s like sitting on a cloud—fluffy, soft, and perfect for an afternoon nap.
Still not as good as Jeongguk’s couch, though.
“Yeah? About what movie you want to do next?” Namjoon asks from the other end of the couch. He’s wrapped in the ugly, yellow blanket he insists on bringing with him every time he moves. It’s coming apart at the seams, and Namjoon has done his best to patch the holes in it.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Not expecting the answer, Namjoon sits up straighter, putting his phone down in his lap. It’s their weekly meeting, this time at Seokijn and Namjoon’s apartment, mainly because it was closer to get to from the photo shoot Taehyung had this morning. He wrinkles his nose, his question laced with an inappropriate amount of judgement. “Don’t tell me it’s one of the rom-com scripts I sent over last week?”
Taehyung did look at them, and found himself laughing out loud at a few of the dialogues he saw. But that isn’t what’s on his mind.
“Now, hear me out before you tell me no.”
Namjoon’s face scrunches. “This ought to be good.”
“I’m in a slump, right?”
“One could say,” Namjoon says as diplomatically as he can muster. “Or one could also say you’re uninspired.”
Namjoon truly is his ride-or-die. Loyal and steadfast.
“I appreciate you, hyung, but the fact of the matter is that I’m… stuck in this weird place where I feel I’ve sold my soul to the industry, and I’m embarrassed about the fact that I’ve let myself get sucked into this stupid chase of the next big thing. It’s not bringing me joy, and it’s like… the more I look at these opportunities, the more lost I feel. The more I keep pushing it all away.”
“Oh, shit. Okay.” Namjoon’s voice trembles, clearly taken off guard. He straightens up, focusing his full attention on Taehyung. “Is this you telling me that you want to retire?”
Taehyung shakes his head.
“Not retire, no, but I need to find some sort of purpose. I’m not enjoying the process anymore. I used to love the art of filmmaking. Of immersing myself in a character and seeing someone’s story come to life on the screen. And I don’t know when I stopped loving it, but I just realized the other day that I have. And that makes me sad, because I’m not ready to walk away yet, even if that’s what I’ve been joking about.”
“I’m sorry you feel this way, Tae. I wish you would have told me sooner.”
There’s no judgement in Namjoon’s voice. Just concern, a careful hesitation to not say the wrong thing, even if that’s the last thing that Namjoon should worry about.
“I didn’t realize it, really. Not until a few days ago.”
He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Jeongguk’s advice. The idea he put into his head without thinking. Taehyung really hadn’t meant to word-vomit like he did. Until then, he hadn’t been able to put his thoughts into words, but Jeongguk swept in and helped him arrange his jumbled thoughts in a way that finally made sense.
His mother had to tell him to slow down at lunch, because once he started talking about it, he couldn’t stop. When he finally mentioned that it was Jeongguk—another man—who had put the idea in his head, she paused and paid attention in an entirely different way.
“You’ve done it all already,” she said when he kept going, smiling softly at him. “Except settled down. It’s about time you find someone.”
It’s his mother’s way of caring for him from afar, ensuring he has someone who takes care of him when she isn’t there to do it.
But fuck if she hasn’t driven him crazy over the years in her quest to find him a partner.
“So did you find a project you want me to look into?” Namjoon asks.
“Not entirely,” he says, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “I think I want to start some sort of foundation. A way to help struggling actors, producers, screenwriters, and such. I’m fairly well connected, you know? I’d love to dive into projects that might not see the time of day because they don’t have the means behind them that others do. I’m sure I can get a few friends to join in.”
Over the course of the last week, Taehyung has barely slept, too busy scouring social media for whatever he could find.
He started with local theatre companies, working his way through their programs and collaborators. Then he stumbled onto the acting program at one of the local universities, where he connected with Shin Ryujin—a passionate, fiery, and ambitious program director who was convinced Taehyung was trying to somehow scam her when he mentioned who he actually was.
She didn’t believe him until he agreed to meet her for coffee at a quirky shop by the university yesterday, letting out an impressive amount of profanities when she laid eyes on him across the cafe. He instantly liked her.
“I met up with the Director of Creative Arts at SNU yesterday, and she sent me some really interesting projects. There’s one in particular that I think we should look at, hyung! I’ll send you the file, hang on…”
On the other side of the couch, Namjooon sits with his mouth hanging open. He blinks a few times, then he clears his throat.
“I haven’t seen you this passionate about something in a very long time,” he finally says. “I feel like I don’t even know what just happened?”
Taehyung smiles. “Do you have any idea how interesting some of these ideas are? They’re completely free from the constraints of mainstream media. Actual stories with depth to them. Not just aesthetically pleasing shit that goes well with social media trends.”
“Taehyung-ah, you’ve starred in the most critically-acclaimed movies that have come out of this country. They are good films. Excellent productions. The kind of projects that leave impressions for years.”
Taehyung knows that. That’s not the issue.
“I know, hyung. Trust me when I say that I don’t want to feel this way, because I know it makes me seem so incredibly ungrateful. It’s just… I’m not having fun anymore. I’m just going through the motions and chasing the next big thing. And it makes me happy for what? A few weeks of good press and good reviews? Then I’m back to the same thing of chasing whatever the fuck it is I’ll never have?”
The breath that racks through his chest is heavy and unexpected. It’s like he’s been chasing high after high, knowing the next one won’t ever measure up to the ones he’s had in the past. If it comes close, it’s only temporary. It has made him empty—left a crater size void in his chest, the kind that only comes from losing the passion that once fueled his soul.
“Okay, alright,” Namjoon says, relenting. “Both things can be true at the same time. You can star in the best productions in the country, and you can still want to do more. I get that, and I’m sorry I dismissed your thought,” Namjoon apologizes immediately. “How about you tell me about the project that’s caught your attention? Because I know you, and I know how you get when you find something you love.”
Taehyung doesn’t waste a second, launching into the story of the man who’s wracked with grief after losing the love of his life. An unconventional love story, with a main character who doesn’t want to live anymore. Then a stranger comes along, taking him down a journey of finding love after loss—a kind he resists so badly it sends him down a spiral of messiness beyond anything Taehyung has ever experienced. It’s raw and it’s real, and somehow, it weaves humor and hope into it all, a task that seems impossible for such a heavy premise.
But what he loves most is the ending. Not a happy one, at all. But a realistic and devastatingly tragic one. The kind of movie you either hate or love, and Taehyung, has, without a doubt, fallen in love with it.
He needs to see it played out on the big screen.
“This is heavy,” Namjoon says after reading it over, but there’s curiosity laced in his words, a tangible interest in what’s on the paper. He looks up at Taehyung. “You want to play this character?”
“No.” Taehyung shakes his head. “I think I’d do better in the supporting role, if there’s a role for me at all in this movie.”
Namjoon cocks his head. “You already have someone in mind, don’t you?”
“I do. Tell me what you think, first. Then we can talk about that.”
Namjoon hums to himself, his eyes darting over the script again.
“I think it’s a good start. Gripping, to say the least. It’s heavy. Uncomfortable. The kind of film that leaves you with a pit in your stomach. It doesn’t have a happy ending, but it also doesn’t lend itself to one. It’s a gamble… but I’d be open to discussing my involvement in it, if you want it.”
“So you’re in?” Taehyung beams. “That’s what I just heard?”
“I’m willing to carry the conversation on how we can explore this idea you’re having,” Namjoon corrects, reining him in. “It’s a good initiative. It’s clear it would bring you purpose. And I’d love to support you with that in any way that I can. Just remember that this is a risk, Taehyung-ah. Make sure you’re willing to take it before you move forward.”
“So it’s not a no? I’ll do all the leg work.”
Namjoon smiles, realizing he’s already lost the battle.
“It’s not a no. Now tell me who you see as the lead?”
Taehyung smiles, victory tasting delectable on his tongue. He knows he has him, even if Namjoon doesn’t know it yet.
“Kim Seokjin.”
Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”
With a pained breath, Namjoon looks out the window. A tiny smile tugs at the corner of his lips. It won’t be an easy sell with Seokjin, but if anyone can do it, it’s Namjoon.
“Unfortunately, I do see it.”
Taehyung laughs warmly. “If you can sell him on it, I’ll accept the LAYOVER project.”
That piques Namjoon’s interest.
“You’re lying to me.”
“Nope!” Taehyung takes a sip of his coffee. It’s gone cold, but he doesn’t mind. “I told you I’ve been wanting to do a rom-com for a while now. It has potential. So, the ball’s in your court. Lock in Seokjin for this project, and I’ll do it.”
Namjoon blows out a breath, puffing his cheeks.
“I’ll be damned.”
****
Taehyung stands in front of the mirror, questioning if unbuttoning another button is too much. There’s a fine balance of trying too hard and showing just enough chest for his delicate gold necklace to catch the attention it deserves.
A text message pulls him out of his thoughts.
Probably for the best. He has no business overthinking his outfit this badly.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
hyng which one is better?
[2 photos attached]
need to look put together but also an outfit that screams ‘fuck me’ yk?
in the most disrespectful but respectful way
you out of everyone know what i mean by that but dont ask questions
Oh.
Taehyung stares at the phone, blinking a few times, a bit surprised by the direct nature of Jeongguk’s text. He doesn’t have time to think about it too long, though, his attention drawn to the photos he sent.
The first one has him in a black, long-sleeved crop top, of all fucking things. Knitted with small slivers of cuts through it, too warm for the season, but it works because it’s short—ending right at his belly button, showcasing the cut of his abs, the sharp lines and skin that pulls taut over them.
Taehyung swallows, imagining how it would look when Jeongguk moves. When he reaches up to grab something, when he dances, when he—
He blows out a shaky breath, moving on to the next photo.
It doesn’t give him any more reprieve, the tight, white formfitting tanktop hugging him in all the right places, showing off the tattoos that wrap around his shoulder, barely concealed by the cardigan he’s thrown on top of it. Casual, yet alluring.
Whatever he chooses, Taehyung knows he’ll have a hard time concentrating on anything but him.
He responds to the text message, desperate to buy himself a few moments.
Taehyung
Fuck, okay
Let me gather my thoughts for just a sec
He sends it off, knowing he’ll overthink it if he doesn’t.
Text bubbles appear in an instant. Jeongguk types, then he stops, picking back up again. It goes on for a few seconds.
Then, the text comes in.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
….. youre not jiminTaehyung
I am not Jimin, nojeon jeongguk 🖤
cool cool unfortunately jungkook died unexpectedly today and can’t attend the event tonight. sorry
Taehyung laughs out loud.
Taehyung
I take it you meant to send that first text to Jimin?jeon jeongguk 🖤
dont know what this is about
im no longer earthside
dead. tell jimin to take good care of kitkta
God, he wishes he was next to him right now, just so he could see his face. How beautifully flushed it must be from the embarrassment. He can’t wait to see him tonight.
Taehyung
If it makes you feel better, both outfits scream ‘fuck me’
But I prefer the crop top, both disrespectfully and respectfully
And I can’t wait to see you in it tonight
After another round of the textbox popping up and disappearing, Jeongguk finally sends his response. It’s a gif of Leonardo DiCaprio from the Wolf of Wall Street, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he shoves his fist into his mouth.
Taehyung unbuttons the third button on his shirt, glad to not be the only one putting thought into his outfit for the evening.
****
ONYX buzzes, the base so deep it reverberates through the walls of the establishment. Though the invitation was extended through Jeongguk exclusively, Taehyung had picked up that ONYX is the place to be tonight—the bar’s five year anniversary party bustling with familiar faces and notable industry giants. Or so Taehyung assumes, considering Jimin is hosting the event.
Seokjin choked on his coffee when Taehyung met up with him earlier in the afternoon, surprised to hear that he’s venturing out to a non-industry event. For someone who plays pretend for a living, Taehyung folded immediately when Seokjin asked if Jeongguk was the reason for his sudden change of heart. He meant to be nonchalant about it, which was his first mistake, but it didn’t matter. Seokjin clocked him immediately.
And now he’s here—ten minutes early, as usual. Apparently not expected, as given away by the heads that turned when he walked in. If privacy was his main concern tonight, he wouldn’t have ventured out. He just hopes that Jeongguk doesn’t mind.
To his surprise, he finds Jeongguk seated at the bar, appearing deep in thought as he looks down on the menu in his hands.
Taehyung peeks over his shoulder, scanning the special offerings for the evening.
“There’s actually a drink with Pink Moscato,” Taehyung points out, startling Jeongguk so badly that he yelps. The menu falls to the bartop as Jeongguk death grips the edge of it. “Did you order it already, or are you waiting for me?”
“Fuck, you scared me,” Jeongguk says, his shoulders deflating when he turns. He smiles, soft and a little shy, his voice breathy. “Hi, hyung.”
Taehyung slides into the barstool next to him.
“Hi,” he responds, taking a moment to look at Jeongguk. “I’m glad to see you’re still earthside.”
Taehyung sweeps his eyes down Jeongguk’s face—from his eyes to his mouth, knowing damn well he lingers as he traces the column of his neck down to his chest. Jeongguk did take Taehyung’s advice, the black sweater tight around his shoulders, the fabric stretched taut over the dips of his biceps. A sliver of skin is visible at the base of his stomach, and Taehyung wonders if he can come up with an excuse to get Jeongguk to stand so he can see more.
He clears his throat.
“We’re never speaking of that again,” he says, his cheeks reddening. “And I know for a fact Jimin put that drink on the menu just to fuck with me.”
Taehyung chuckles. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”
“I wish that were true, but unfortunately, I texted him the night we met. I went on and on about pink moscato and how good it is, asking if he could make me a drink next time I came to one of his restaurants.”
“And he came through. He’s a good friend.”
Jeongguk narrows his eyes. “No. You’re not taking his side here.”
Taehyung lifts his hands in front of him.
“Of course not,” he says, seriously.
Pleased, Jeongguk nods a few times, his own eyes flickering across Taehyung’s face. He starts by holding eye contact, then he traces his face, lingering too long on his lips before he drops down to his neckline.
He doesn’t immediately look away, instead allowing himself to take Taehyung in. When he looks back up, Taehyung feels his own skin prickle with heat.
“You look really good,” Jeongguk says, flickering back to look at his chest again. “The Cartier is nice. Compliments your skin tone.”
Taehyung can’t fight the smile that creeps up.
“I didn’t take you for a jewelry kind of guy.”
“Oh, I’m not. Your Cartier ads were kind of hard to miss, you know. Nice to look at, though.”
Taehyung throws his head back, laughing in embarrassment.
“It was a little obnoxious, wasn’t it?”
Jeongguk gestures a ‘so-so’ motion with his hands, but his words put Taehyung at ease.
“You pulled it off.”
“My management is displeased that I haven’t signed a new project, so I had to do some brand work. Well, I didn’t have to, but it was ‘strongly encouraged.’ And to be honest, it’s not terrible being a brand ambassador for Cartier.”
“But do you really get the jewelry for free?
“It’s negotiated in the contract. Pieces that I get in exchange for wearing them out and about, you know.”
“Sounds like a terrible life. Truly awful,” Jeongguk jokes.
“Truly terrible,” he responds, nudging him with his shoulder. “Now, what are you drinking?”
Jeongguk shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t really care.”
“Then I’ll order for us,” Taehyung decides. “Alcohol? No alcohol?”
“I’ll have a drink. I ate today, and, well, no one broke up with me before I arrived, so I think I’m safe.”
“Then the pink moscato it is. We’re going to remove this negative association,” he says, enjoying the way Jeongguk pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “It really should be our thing, when you think about it.”
Jeongguk chuckles. “Yeah. The welcome drink at the wedding.”
There’s no way Taehyung isn’t biting on that one.
“Wow, that almost kiss we shared has you planning our wedding already?”
Jeongguk’s lips part, his eyes impossibly round.
“That’s not—fuck, no!” he hurries out, frantic as he shakes his head. “Oh my God!”
Taehyung can’t hold his laughter back. To his dismay, the bartender interrupts them before he can ask Jeongguk to elaborate. True to his word, he orders Jeongguk the pink moscato spritzer, and himself a glass of sangria.
“I should have kept pretending to be dead,” Jeongguk mutters. “Fuck.”
Taehyung places a hand on his knee.
“No. I need you to know that this is incredibly endearing. I promise. Please don’t change.”
Jeongguk blinks, letting out a breath. He looks down on his thigh, where Taehyung’s hand rests at the top of his knee. Taehyung squeezes reassuringly.
“Seriously,” he says. “And, if it makes you feel any better, you made the right choice with the outfit.”
“Are you going to tease me all night?!” Jeongguk asks, rolling his eyes.
“Most likely.”
Jeongguk takes a sip of his drink. His brows draw close, as if he’s not sure if he likes it.
“Okay. So far, no flashbacks,” he says, making light of the situation. He takes a moment to look around them, glancing subtly behind Taehyung. “Not to make it weird, but people are—”
“Staring?” Taehyung fills in. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s—”
The part that either freaks people out or gets them going. The reason they run, or the reason they are next to him in the first place, eager to find a way to benefit from his presence.
It comes with the job. An inevitable part of his daily life, and something that won’t ever change, at least not for as long as he’s working.
A pit of dread settles in his stomach.
Jeongguk shakes his head.
“Don’t apologize. It’s… I mean, you’re you. How could people not?”
“I fear that’s the way it is, most days. It’s easier to manage at a place like Yoongi’s parties.”
Jeongguk furrows his brows.
“No, it’s not—” he takes a second to think about his words, a shy smile stretching across his face. “It might be the pink moscato getting to me, but what I’m trying to say is that even if you weren’t you, you’re still you. People would stare even if you weren’t in movies and on Cartier ads all over town.”
For once, Taehyung is stunned into silence, the compliment nestling itself deep in his chest. He wouldn’t be surprised if his chest flushed red from the heat.
“Oh.”
“It doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you’re worried about. People can stare all they want,” Jeongguk continues.
The invisible weight he didn’t realize he was holding slips from his shoulders, deflating his chest when he takes a breath. He doesn’t want to minimize what this is. It is a constant presence in his life, and that won’t change. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to over the years, but not something everyone accepts.
He didn’t realize just how badly he wanted Jeongguk to say what he just did.
Taehyung smiles softly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk responds, pivoting his chair to face Taehyung. It makes his hand slide further up his leg, a jolt of heat zapping down his spine at the same time. There’s a newfound glimmer in his eyes. Dangerous. Thrilling. “Dating rumors with an older man is good for my ego.”
Taehyung bows his head down, biting down on his lip to keep his smile at bay. The current that runs through his body is too hot.
“Oh, I see how it is.”
Jeongguk beams. “I’m not a completely lost cause, you know. I do have game, occasionally.”
“I never thought you were.”
“You also love the fact that my brain-to-mouth filter is broken. It’s good for your ego.”
Taehyung pokes his tongue into his cheek.
“I’m gonna be honest with you… you had me at ‘you are without a doubt the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. You’re probably not nice,’” he quotes, his mind running back to the first night they met. “A compliment and an insult. Can’t say many people flirt that way, but it worked.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes.
“I’m going to switch the topic,” he says, briefly glancing around them. He falls silent for a second, clearly thinking about something. “Do you want to dance?”
The question catches Taehyung off guard.
“I didn’t take you for a dancer.”
Jeongguk smiles, then he looks down on his drink. For a few seconds, the brief silence spans between them. A fraction of a second, a pause in the music, just enough to string people’s attention.
Then, the beat finally drops, and Jeongguk nods to himself, grabbing his glass and downing the last of his drink. If it unsettles him, he plays it off, placing the glass down and looking straight at Taehyung.
“I trained to be an idol before I switched careers.”
Taehyung chokes on his sangria.
“What?”
“I’m just fucking with you,” Jeongguk says, laughing as he stands. He holds his hand out, a whole lot steadier than Taehyung feels. “Let’s give these people something to stare at, if that’s what they want to do.”
Nothing about Jeongguk is predictable, and Taehyung is growing more and more addicted to the feeling that lingers under his skin.
“Fuck, alright,” he says, shaking his head at the sudden shift. “Let’s dance.”
The crowd has grown dense and difficult to navigate, but Jeongguk grabs Taehyung by the hand, leading the charge as he weaves them between hot bodies and wandering eyes. Though they try to be subtle, Taehyung catches the double takes, the initial shock of seeing him before it registers that they really shouldn’t be staring.
When they reach the dance floor, Jeongguk turns to face him. He doesn’t let go of his hand, instead pulling it closer, placing it on his own hip as he keeps his eyes on Taehyung. Slowly, he casts a gaze down his front, lingering too long at his neckline, the corner of his lip twitching into a smirk.
And Jeongguk’s fucking shirt moves with him, shifting as he goes, sliding up, leaving Taehyung’s hand against the warmth of his skin instead of the safety of the shirt’s fabric.
Searingly hot, sending a current straight to Taehyung’s gut.
Taehyung swallows, too fucking intrigued with a version of Jeongguk he hasn’t really seen.
“You do know how to dance, right?” Jeongguk teases, slowly running his hand up Taehyung’s arm. That burns, too, the intent of his touch lingering far past his movements. “Because right now, you’re really just… standing there and staring at me. And people are staring at us. So…”
The words kick him into gear.
“Where did this come from?” Taehyung asks, shaking himself out of his stupor. He tightens his hold on Jeongguk’s hip, then he tugs once, bringing him close. Not close enough to collide, but enough for their bodies to brush, for the heat from Jeongguk’s body to settle right beneath Taehyung’s skin. “Don’t tell me you’re a brat, too?”
Jeongguk smirks.
“The pink moscato is getting to me. You know how I get when I have a drink. What can I say?”
The song shifts into something slower, the bass so loud it rattles through Taehyung’s body. But that might also be Jeongguk and the way he moves. Slow but deliberate and not a second off beat, as if he is in control of the music and not the other way around.
Taehyung swallows, the reaction instinctual when he tightens the grip on his hip. Jeongguk is so warm, even above the fabric of his clothes, and Taehyung knows that here, of all places, he should be worried about who’s watching.
But he isn’t.
How could he possibly watch anyone but Jeongguk?
He can’t fucking see anyone but him, completely entranced by the rhythm and the feeling of Jeongguk’s fingertips as they trace the back of his neck. Gentle and soft, the opposite of the sharp eyes that are fixed at Taehyung’s.
For the first time in a long time, Taehyung can’t keep up.
“You’re a terrific dancer,” Taehyung whispers between them, his words barely audible by the music, but Jeongguk picks them out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jeongguk smirks, then, without a warning, he turns, pressing his back against Taehyung’s chest. He moves with the beat, not even giving Taehyung a chance to breathe.
Surely, Jeongguk can feel the frantic beat of his heart—how it outpaces the music. Erratic, frenzied. Stuck at the top of his throat, making it almost impossible to swallow.
Jeongguk shifts, turning his head just right, his temple brushing against Taehyung’s lips.
“And take the surprise away?”
His voice rumbles through their bodies, low and warm.
Taehyung can’t fucking breathe.
How did they get here? How did Jeongguk cast a fucking spell on him? Taehyung can’t conjure a single, coherent thought. All that occupies his mind is Jeongguk.
Jeongguk, Jeongguk, Jeongguk.
The smell of his cologne, citrusy and warm, intoxicating as it dizzies him. The heat of his body, the roll of his hips. The intent behind his movement, surely meant to put him in a trance and take away his ability to speak.
This is worse than watching him in front of his computer. There, he moved with the confidence of someone who knows how to do their job, with years’ worth of practice and sheer determination, the kind of comfortability of someone who has worked hard and earned their stripes.
But this?
This is a different kind of confidence. The kind meant to ruin him, showing him just how helpless he is when he’s been led to think he’s in control.
Jeongguk knows how dangerous he is… disarming and unassuming, gently biding his time until it is time to strike.
Taehyung’s head spins.
When Jeongguk chuckles again, and his lip curves into an all too knowing smirk, Taehyung manages enough coherency to speak.
This is exactly what Jeongguk wants. And if that’s the case, who is Taehyung to deny him?
He closes the very last centimeter of space between them, swallowing the breath that catches in his throat when Jeongguk’s ass pushes against his front.
The warmth of Jeongguk’s temple tingles against his lips as they brush over his skin.
“You have me exactly where you want me, don’t you?”
Another chuckle falls from Jeongguk.
“Mm,” he hums, slowing them down, guiding Taehyung’s hand to rest on his hip again. This time, Taehyung takes the liberty to trace his flank, wondering if the heat between them is enough to leave sparks. “It always happens. Even the strongest men go speechless when I get them to dance.”
Something strange settles in Taehyung’s chest. He wraps an arm around Jeongguk’s waist, securing him, though he knows he isn’t going anywhere.
He squeezes a little tighter than necessary.
“Please don’t talk about other men when you’re dancing with me.”
Jeongguk’s body shakes with his laughter.
He sinks into Taehyung’s hold, heavy and warm.
“You the jealous kind?”
Taehyung shakes his head, contradicting himself.
“No.”
Jeongguk reaches down, interlacing their hands where Taehyung’s hand rests beneath his shirt.
“Bummer. I was hoping you would be,” he says, shifting to the beat of the next song. “Do you think we’ve given them enough to stare at?”
For a moment, Taehyung forgot where they were. They’re at ONYX, with people around—people who want to see. Somehow, the rest of the world has faded around him.
“Fuck,” he chuckles, pressing his lips against Jeongguk’s temple as he draws a breath, mumbling his next words into his skin. “What kind of spell did you put on me?”
Jeongguk laughs, untangling them both so he can turn around.
His dark eyes glimmer beneath the lights of the dance floor. He takes his piercing between his teeth, toying with it.
Jeongguk shrugs his shoulders. “I just like to dance.”
“The fuck you do,” Taehyung huffs, his hands itching to touch more now that he’s had a taste. A thought in the back of his mind appears—another moment to not pass by. “Remember the last time we saw each other?”
Jeongguk traces Taehyung’s face with his eyes.
“Yeah.”
“I promised you I’d kiss you properly.”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. A brief crack in his composure.
“You did.”
“And as much as I’d love to give these people something to stare at,” he says, throwing Jeongguk’s own words back at him. “I’m not going to kiss you here.”
Jeongguk traces the side of his piercing with his tongue.
“Bummer.”
Taehyung doesn’t want to wait any longer. He regrets not kissing Jeongguk the last time they saw each other, and though he’s fairly certain he was messing with him earlier, he doesn’t want to hear Jeongguk even mention another man again. Some sort of claim he doesn’t have the right to have stakes into his chest at the mere thought of it.
So he grabs his hand and tugs, the one to lead them through the crowd this time.
For once, he wants people to stare. He wants everyone to know that he is the one with Jeongguk by his side.
They’ve almost reached the exit when Jeongguk yanks on his hand, tugging him down a different hallway. A sign tells him it’s for staff only, but Taehyung doesn’t have time to question him, pulled out into the alley behind the bar a second later.
Too caught up in the moment, neither of them realize the night has taken a turn since they arrived, the rain ice cold as it cascades onto them when they stumble out of the hallway.
Jeongguk screeches, coming to such an abrupt stop that Taehyung crashes into him, colliding straight into Jeongguk’s broad back. At the last second, he wraps his arm around his waist, stopping them both from tumbling over.
“Fuck, come on,” Jeongguk hisses, the first to move. He books it across the street, ducking under the awning of what appears to be a closed coffee shop. “I’m gonna freeze to death.”
Pressed close together, they huddle under the awning. For a second, they just stand there, looking helplessly at the downpour.
Taehyung hip checks Jeongguk. “Well, this has the potential to be really romantic. We could kiss in the rain,” he says. “But I need to know where you learned to dance like that before we do anything else.”
Jeongguk leans his head back against the brick wall, chuckling to himself.
“You’re not going to believe me.”
“Try me.”
“I danced pretty seriously for about ten years. I still take class occasionally, but it kind of took the backseat once my career took off.”
Of course he did. When he thinks he has Jeongguk figured out, he throws something like this at him. It’s exhilarating.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jeongguk grins. “Because I like catching people off guard when they realize.”
Taehyung shakes his head, his mind wandering back to just a few moments ago.
“You like catching people off guard.”
Jeongguk nods. “Mm. You were practically frozen.”
Around them, the rain cascades, heavy and cold in the humidity of the early summer air that clings to their skin. It doesn’t matter.
It takes him all but a split second to make a decision. He reaches for Jeongguk, grabbing ahold of his wrist, and he tugs, hauling him into the rain.
“Hyung!” he whines between a laugh and a surprised gasp, but he goes easily, following Taehyung into the street. “What the fuck?!”
Taehyung looks over his shoulder.
“I don’t want to be stuck out here all night, and the rain isn’t letting up,” he says, looking up at the sky, then back at Jeongguk. He’s soaked, his hair wet with moisture that he runs his fingers through to shake out. He is breathtaking—the most stunning man Taehyung has ever met. “Do you want to come back to mine?”
Jeongguk grins.
“You’re a lot cooler about asking than I was.”
A soft laugh filters over the sound of the rain.
“Is that a yes?”
Jeongguk nods. “You know it is.”
Taehyung’s stomach flutters. “I’d never assume.”
Jeongguk’s cheeks are flushed the most beautiful red, perhaps from the rain, or the lingering effects of their time inside.
“I brought up the welcome drinks for our future wedding. It’s safe to say I want to come back to yours.”
Taehyung makes sure to lock eyes with Jeongguk.
“Just to be clear… It’s not to watch me stream.”
Jeongguk laughs so hard his nose scrunches.
They huddle under another awning to call a taxi, apologizing profusely to the driver when they climb into his car soaking wet. Thankfully, Taehyung’s place is only a few minutes from the bar, which doesn’t really leave him enough time to be nervous.
And it doesn’t really settle until they step into the elevator.
Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair again, shivering as the water runs down his neck.
Taehyung lets himself look, his eyes lingering on his chest, all the way down his torso where his shirt clings to his skin. It reminds him of the first time they met, though he didn’t dare to be as bold when he snuck a glance.
“You’re staring.”
Jeongguk tilts his head in curiosity, calling out the obvious.
“Yeah,” Taehyung says, chuckling under his breath. He takes a step closer, tracing his eyes back to Jeongguk’s. “I am.”
“Are you going—”
The ding of the elevator interrupts him, signaling their arrival to Taehyung’s floor. He steps aside, letting Jeongguk go first.
“To the left,” he directs.
Jeongguk looks at him. “I would never have guessed, seeing as it’s the only door on this floor.”
Taehyung shakes his head, stepping aside to key his code in. It’s been years since he invited someone new into his home, a vulnerability he hasn’t granted himself amidst the chaos of his own mind.
And he thought it would feel strange, as if he’s inviting someone to see too much of him, but none of those thoughts linger when Jeongguk steps over the threshold. Not a single worry etches its way into him, Jeongguk’s company so natural it feels like they’ve been here together thousands of times before.
The door clicks shut behind them, leaving them in complete silence for the first time of the night. No music, no chatty taxi driver. Just the two of them, and no one to interrupt.
An involuntary shiver runs through Jeongguk, his arms lining with goosebumps. Water drips onto the floor, but he’ll worry about that later.
“You’re freezing.”
Jeongguk nods. “Mm. But it’ll be better once I get out of these clothes.”
Taehyung takes a step forward, his skin warm despite the cold water that still clings to him.
“Oh, will it, now?”
Jeongguk pauses. “Fuck. That is not me assuming that you’re going to undr—”
He stops short, not finishing his sentence.
“Undress you?” Taehyung fills in. “Is that what you were going to say?”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “I have no idea what I was going to say.”
Taehyung continues to move, only stopping when he’s right in front of Jeongguk.
“So you’re not assuming that I’ll undress you?” he asks, his voice much steadier than his heart. “That’s not what you were going to say?”
Jeongguk fiddles with his lip ring, his eyes glimmering in the darkness of the foyer.
“I was,” he finally relents. “But I stopped myself.”
Taehyung reaches out, brushing gently against the skin that peeks through between Jeongguk’s waistband and his crop top. Despite being caught in the rain, his skin is warm, searingly hot and humid where he traces it.
“Why?”
Jeongguk’s reddened cheeks don’t match his smirk.
Too dangerous.
“Because you’ve taken your sweet time, and we haven’t even kissed yet. So with that pace, I’m not going to assume you’ll get me naked tonight, even if that’s what I’m hoping for.”
And Jeongguk makes a point. Taehyung has taken his sweet time, and there’s no sense in dragging this out any further.
So he reaches out to grab the side of Jeongguk’s face, a zap of heat shooting straight to his gut when Jeongguk gasps in surprise. He drags his eyes across his face, one last check-in, his gaze flickering down to his lips again.
He wants to drag it out. Wants to swipe his thumb against the side of his lip, toy with the piercing that he’s spent countless nights thinking about what it would taste like against his lips.
But he doesn’t have any more patience.
And neither does Jeongguk, because he nods, ever so slightly, giving him the permission he needs.
Taehyung doesn’t know who moves first. All he knows is that Jeongguk’s lips are softer than anyone he’s ever kissed, his stomach freefalling at the first touch of them.
Jeongguk melts into Taehyung’s hold, grasping onto his waist and pressing his soaking clothes into his skin. Another shiver runs through Taehyung, but this one has nothing to do with the cold.
No, it has everything to do with Jeongguk. He tastes of pink moscato and mint, sweet and addicting, and he kisses him like he’s waited weeks. It’s neither gentle nor tentative, but commanding and certain—like someone who knows exactly how he likes to kiss, but is letting Taehyung lead the charge.
The thought of that is almost too much. There’s a side to Jeongguk that Taehyung hasn’t seen. He got a glimpse of him in the club tonight; playful and daring, someone who enjoys a push and pull.
Jeongguk kisses him with the kind of confidence that comes from knowing he has Taehyung exactly where he wants him. And maybe has has had him there all along, simply biding his time to throw Taehyung for a loop.
It makes his head spin.
“I should have kissed you the last time I saw you,” Taehyung mumbles on his lips, pulling away only to get the words out. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
He feels the curve of Jeongguk’s smile against his mouth.
“You should have,” he agrees.
Taehyung takes the opportunity to suck his bottom lip between his teeth. He tugs, just enough to draw a groan out of Jeongguk, but he quickly smooths it over by running his tongue over it.
Jeongguk shivers again, but this time, Taehyung has a feeling it isn’t from the cold.
His lips tingle when he reluctantly pulls away, but it’s worth it when he feels Jeongguk’s sigh as he drags his lips down the curve of his sharp jaw.
Taehyung runs his hands down Jeongguk’s body. The broad shoulders and his muscular back, down the curve of his spine that has Jeongguk melting into him. He settles his hand at the base of his back, just above the waistband.
He traces it, gently brushing his fingers against it, pleased to see the goosebumps line Jeongguk’s arms.
“Do you trust me?” Taehyung breathes into the side of his jaw, an idea forming before he can really think twice about it.
Jeongguk tilts his head back, giving Taehyung better access to kiss down the side of his throat.
“Yes.”
The answer comes without hesitation.
He drags his hands around his waist, tugging once at the hem of his shirt.
“Arms up,” he demands.
Jeongguk complies without question, raising his hands above his head, allowing Taehyung to pull his shirt off.
Never once does he break eye contact with Taehyung, his gaze heavy, swimming with the anticipation of where they’re heading.
Jeongguk is stunning. Milky, soft skin, hard muscles, and intricate tattoos. He looks even more breathtaking than Taehyung remembers from the morning in his kitchen, even if the visuals are etched into his mind forever.
Here, beneath the soft light of his foyer, Jeongguk wants him to watch. Steady, his chest rises with his breathing, as if he isn’t the least bit nervous about where they’re heading.
Taehyung is sure his own heartbeat can be seen.
“Take a shower with me,” Taehyung whispers, tracing the side of Jeongguk’s lip with his thumb. His stomach swoops with his question, one so intimate his fingers tremble from his sudden nerves. “We’re both freezing.”
Jeongguk swallows, his eyes darting between Taehyung’s.
“Okay,” he says, nodding softly.
“Unless I’m reading this wrong?” Taehyung asks. “Tell me if I am.”
A confident smile traces across Jeongguk’s face.
“You know you’re not.”
Jeongguk reaches out, tangling his hands into Taehyung’s shirt. With a quick tug, he pulls it out of his slacks.
Taehyung doesn’t do this. He doesn’t suggest a fucking shower, of all things, but now that he has Jeongguk here, he doesn’t want to waste a single second that he has. He wants him close. He wants to feel him against his skin. Wants to take his time touching him. He wants to take care of him in any way that Jeongguk will let him.
And then he wants to take him straight to bed.
He lets Jeongguk take the lead and undress him, his fingers cold as they brush against his skin with each button of his shirt that comes undone.
They kiss again, the kind that is dirty and desperate, laced with the urgency of not wanting to stop and waste time to even take a breath. Taehyung knows he doesn’t kiss with much finesse; just a bone aching desperation that practically claws out of him, like he can’t get enough now that he’s had a taste.
Hands fumble with belts and zippers, and the reality of what’s about to happen hits him like a punch to the gut when he feels the outline of Jeongguk’s hard cock against his hip.
He groans.
“Fuck, I’m—” he doesn’t know what he even wants to say, so he quiets, pulling Jeongguk in for another kiss. Their fronts brush again, and he groans into the kiss, tangling his hands into the hair at the back of Jeongguk’s head. “I want you so bad.”
Jeongguk exhales, his breath warm and heavy into Taehyung’s mouth.
“You’re the one taking your sweet time, hyung,” he teases, running his hand down Taehyung’s bare stomach. “I thought we were going to take a shower.”
Taehyung chuckles, tipping Jeongguk’s chin back.
“I didn’t take you for a brat.”
“I’m not,” he says, biting down on his lip. “You’re just so easy to rile up. I didn’t expect it.”
“I liked it better when you put your foot in your mouth.”
Taehyung revels in Jeongguk’s gaze when he steps away to pull his pants down. He strains hard against his boxers, pleased when Jeongguk traces his lips with his tongue as he looks at him.
Jeongguk looks back up, grinning.
“Are you into feet? Is that what I’m hearing?”
The joke breaks a bit of the heavy tension. Taehyung throws his head back, his laugh echoing against the bathroom tiles. It’s so easy with Jeongguk. No overthinking, no worrying. It’s just… simple.
A luxury he’d written off long ago.
He walks over to the shower to turn it on, the heat of the water steaming against the glass walls almost instantly.
The sounds of the water against the tiles bring him back to reality.
“I’m not going to lie. I’m a little nervous,” Taehyung admits, scared to somehow fuck this up when he knows it’s unlikely.
Jeongguk chews on his lip.
“You don’t seem nervous,” he says, closing the distance to stand in front of Taehyung. “If it makes you feel any better, I am, too. I do have a question, though. About this—”
He gestures around the bathroom.
“Okay.”
“Do you make it a habit to shower with everyone before you fuck them?” Jeongguk teases, taking the opportunity to run his fingers against the waistband of Taehyung’s underwear. “Or is this just for me?”
Taehyung chuckles, his heart practically lodged in his throat as he anticipates Jeongguk’s touch. But Jeonguk words calm him, his nerves dissipating as they fade into the background, settling into something more palatable.
“Just you,” Taehyung answers, breathless. “Wanna make it good for you.”
Jeongguk takes a step back, and with his eyes on Taehyung’s, he pulls his own underwear down, leaving him completely bare.
And Taehyung loses his ability to breathe.
Cut from marble, Jeongguk is all muscle, sharp and defined, contrasted by his soft eyes and soaking wet hair as it drips onto the floor. Even at his most vulnerable, Jeongguk stands tall—confident in his body, with muscles forged under tension and pain.
Taehyung lets himself look. Takes all of him in, swooping his eyes down his body, lingering at the side of his ribs where he catches a faint scar. He wants to trace it with his fingers and his tongue, overwhelmed with the beauty that is Jeongguk.
And he takes in his narrow waist and the defined abs, swooping lower to his cock, hard and flushed red at the tip. Taehyung is so fucking turned on his stomach cleches hot and heavy, a newfound heat prickling searingly under his skin.
“Come on, hyung,” Jeongguk urges, nodding back toward the shower. “We’re done taking our time.”
It’s been years since Taehyung was this nervous about someone. Not because Jeongguk makes him nervous, but because he wants so badly to make this work. He knows he’s been stalling, taking his time so he can enjoy these moments of anticipation and the thrill of getting to know someone.
But there’s also that voice in the back of his head, the one that creeps in and tells him that the other shoe is about to drop. Surely, there’s something about him that is too much for Jeongguk, so if Taehyung didn’t put himself out there, then Jeongguk wouldn’t find a reason to not want to do this.
And he knows that line of thinking isn’t fair to Jeongguk, but it’s the reality of his brain playing tricks on him. It has for so long, exhausting him to the point where he doesn’t even want to try anymore.
There’s nothing more that he wants now.
He wants Jeongguk so badly. In any way he’ll have him, and not just like this. He wants the other moments, too—the quiet moments on the couch after a long day, the hectic mornings when they’re running late for whatever they have planned. The stupid fights about something neither of them remember after they’ve made up, and all the other moments in-between.
He wants all of it.
So he swallows down the nerves, then he reaches for his own underwear and pulls it down.
A pleased smile stretches across Jeongguk’s face, his breath hitching just slightly, but enough for Taehyung to catch.
“Fuck,” Jeongguk breathes out, his eyes trailing down Taehyung’s body, the appreciation in his eyes sending a lingering jolt of heat down Taehyung’s spine. It almost liquifies him into a puddle of himself when he watches Jeongguk grab his own cock, slowly stroking himself as he watches. “You’re gonna rip me in half.”
Taehyung closes the distance, not the least bit gentle when he crashes into Jeongguk. He grabs the sides of his face, desperate to kiss him, to feel all of him against him. Jeongguk groans into their kiss when their bodies collide, eager to shift his hips for friction, and a pathetic noise builds in the back of Taehyung’s throat.
They tumble into the shower, only pulling away from their kiss to chuckle when the water cascades down their bodies, a little warmer than both of them expected. Taehyung fumbles with the dial behind him to turn it down, but Jeongguk has other plans, pulling Taehyung toward himself as his back hits the wall.
Jeongguk’s fingertips press into his hips, as if he tries to steady himself.
He tears away to kiss the corner of his mouth.
“I had plans, you know,” Taehyung says, breathless into his skin. “Was going to get you into the shower, take my time with you… tease you.”
Jeongguk tips his head back. “You still can.”
“Clearly I can’t,” Taehyung responds, chuckling to himself. “I got you naked and suddenly I’m like a fucking animal. Can’t even think straight.”
“Terrible feeling, isn’t it? This is why I keep putting my foot in my mouth every time I speak around you.”
Taehyung dips his head down into the crook of Jeongguk’s neck. Their bodies shake with their soft laughter, and it allows him a moment to catch his breath.
Against his chest, he feels the beat of Jeongguk’s heart. Fast yet steady, telling Taehyung that he isn’t the only one who’s overwhelmed.
When he looks back up, Jeongguk’s dark eyes swim with desire. Want.
“Come here,” Taehyung demands, guiding Jeongguk to stand beneath the water. He stands behind him, not pressed against him, but close enough to touch him. “Let me at least try to be a gentleman about this.”
“What if I told you that’s the last thing I wanted?”
Taehyung grabs the soap, ignoring how Jeongguk’s question makes his cock twitch. He attempts to take his time, but the truth of the matter is that he can’t wait to get his hands on him.
“Then tell me what you want.”
He starts with a hand down his spine. Slow and steady, just enough pressure to let a quiet groan out of Jeongguk’s mouth. He repeats the motion twice before he reaches around his front, just above his belly button.
“I—”
Jeongguk cuts himself off, his stomach tightening when Taehyung traces the flat of his palm right below his navel. He teases him, brushing the tips of his fingers lower, excruciatingly close to his cock.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Taehyung whispers onto the shell of his ear, switching directions as he trails up his abs, pleased when Jeongguk bows into his touch when he scrapes his nipple. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Jeongguk tries to push back against him, but Taehyung dodges him at the very last second.
His cock aches.
“Yeah, fuck—I.” Jeongguk exhales, practically whining. “Want you to touch me.”
“Mm,” Taehyung agrees, twisting his nipple between his fingers. “I am touching you.”
“You’re teasing me.”
Taehyung chuckles into the side of his neck. He takes half a step closer, his own cock brushing against Jeongguk’s ass. He pulls away just as quickly, not sure who he’s torturing more—himself of Jeongguk.
He continues to touch anywhere he can reach, slow and teasing when he traces the ridges of his abs and the cuts of his arms, shifting to his back again, the curve of his spine and the place where it dips beautifully into his lower back.
When Jeongguk practically begs him to finally give him what he wants, he grabs the shampoo, lathering himself up so he can run his hands through his hair.
It shoots a shiver of goosebumps down his arms.
“Feels good,” Jeongguk mumbles, a little delirious. “But at this rate, we’re never going to fuck.”
Taehyung thinks about it. As much as he’d love to drag this out, and as much as he wants to hear Jeongguk beg for it, he isn’t sure how much he can handle. He can’t hold himself off much longer, not when he has Jeongguk so eager and willing in his arms.
He presses himself close, groaning as his cock presses against Jeongguk’s ass. It takes all he has to keep still, to not rut against his perfectly round ass.
“No?” he asks, reaching around to grab a hold of Jeongguk’s cock, heavy and hard in his hand. “You think I’m just going to tease you all night?”
“Fuck.” Jeongguk slumps back, thumping his head against Taehyung’s shoulder. “Feels good.”
Taehyung hums, pressing his lips against Jeongguk’s temple, steady as he starts to jerk him off. Jeongguk melts into him, his breathing growing more shallow with each stroke of Taehyung’s hand.
“Now tell me what you want.”
Jeongguk sighs, reaching down and placing his hand on top of Taehyung’s. He slows them down just slightly, groaning when Taehyung tightens his grip.
He doesn’t particularly care to be the one in charge, happy to do whatever pleases his partner, so he allows Jeongguk to set the pace. Allows him to tell him what he needs as he guides the pace to something lazier.
“I want you to fuck me. However you want me. I’m not picky, hyung,” Jeongguk says, breathlessly. “I just need you to fuck me this century.” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “please.”
Taehyung nips at the side of his throat. “Not picky, huh?”
Jeongguk turns his head, looking back at Taehyung over his shoulder.
“No, but if you don’t get me out of this shower and take me to your bedroom, I’m gonna find someone else wh—”
Taehyung grabs Jeongguk’s jaw, his stomach flipping when he sees the glimmer in Jeongguk’s eyes.
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
Jeongguk smirks. “Then take me to your bedroom.”
He silences Jeongguk with a kiss. The angle is awkward, but neither of them care, the kiss laced with the desperation they’re both feeling. The anticipation of the last few weeks, the drawn out tension they’ve both been toying with.
They stumble out of the shower, not really bothering to dry themselves off. Taehyung decides to leave his towel in the bathroom, but Jeongguk wraps it tightly around his waist.
Taehyung lifts a brow. “It’s going to come off either way?”
Jeongguk gestures around the living room.
“You have floor-to-ceiling windows!”
Taehyung laughs, yanking on Jeongguk’s hand to bring him in for another kiss. It’s messy, without finesse, but he kisses him as he walks them through the living room to get to his bedroom.
“I have the top floor. No one is going to see you naked through the windows.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “You don’t know that.”
The towel unravels with Taehyung’s help, falling somewhere on the floor, their bodies crashing together again as they tumble onto the bed.
Splayed out on Taehyung’s bed, Jeongguk looks like a dream come true. Water still clings to the edges of his hair, his skin flush from the heat of the shower and the arousal, his cock hard between his legs.
Taehyung stares, a little breathless as he props himself up on his knees to get a better look. For the first time of the night, he grabs his own cock.
The relief is instant, pleasure twisting hot in his gut.
Jeongguk follows suit, his eyes fluttering shut when he gets a hand around himself.
“Don’t stop,” Taehyung whispers, scrambling to get off the bed so he can get to his nightstand. He rummages through it until he finds what he needs—an unopened bottle of lube and a condom. He throws them onto the bed as Jeongguk spreads his legs, inviting him in. “Fuck, Jeongguk-ah.”
“You probably don’t need to prep me.”
Taehyung swallows. “What?”
“I—” Jeongguk closes his eyes, perhaps even a little bit embarrassed. “I’ll let you put two and two together.”
Taehyung grabs Jeongguk’s thighs, his eyes wandering down to his ass while he runs the tips of his fingers down his inner thighs.
“You prepped?” Taehyung asks. “You fingered yourself?”
Jeongguk nods, keeping his eyes closed.
Taehyung won’t have it.
Gently, he slaps the inside of his thigh.
Jeongguk gasps.
“Look at me,” he demands, rubbing soothingly over the spot on his thigh. “You wanted me to fuck you?”
Jeongguk smiles lazily, letting go of his cock. Taehyung reaches down, replacing his grip with his own.
“Mm, was hoping we’d get to it tonight.” Jeongguk reaches out, curling his finger under the gold chain around Taehyung’s neck. He pulls, quietly demanding to have him closer. “You could probably have fucked me in the shower if you wanted.”
Overwhelmed with the visual Jeongguk just put in his head, Taehyung leans down, capturing Jeongguk in a messy kiss. He keeps the movement of his hand steady, swallowing down every beautiful sound that spills from Jeongguk’s lips.
His back arches off the bed, searching for more.
Taehyung only pulls away to pat around the mattress for the lube. He pours too much on his hand and a bit on the covers, but that’s a problem for later. For now, he needs to feel Jeongguk. He needs to be inside of him.
“Why didn’t you tell me in the shower,” Taehyung breathes into another kiss, his hand traveling down Jeongguk’s body. Eager, he opens his legs even further, moaning into Taehyung’s mouth as he traces the outside of his rim with his fingertip. “After all that talk about me taking too long.”
Jeongguk holds his breath, the anticipation crackling in the air. Taehyung doesn’t want to tease him, but now that he has him here—body slack, legs spread wide, he does. He traces the outside of his hole with his finger, brushes gently, then applies more pressure, just as if he’s about to push in.
Eager, Jeongguk reaches, demands Taehyung kisses him again, so he does. Taehyung kisses him messily and hungrily, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and yanks.
It’s too much and not enough all at once.
“Hyung—” Jeongguk whines, desperate as he tries to push down against Taehyung’s finger. Taehyung dodges his attempt at the last second, placing his hand against his hip to push him down into the mattress instead. “Please stop teasing me,” he sighs, the curve of his smile pressed into their kiss. “I don’t even need you to finger me.”
“I know,” Taehyung answers, his own cock aching to be touched. He slowly ruts against the side of Jeongguk’s leg, just for a hint of friction. Not nearly enough, but something. “Have you considered that maybe I want to? Hmm?” he breathes into the side of his jaw, trailing his hands between his legs and down to his ass again. “Maybe I wanted to hear you beg.”
“You’re su—”
The words die on Jeongguk’s tongue, the sentence replaced with a disjointed moan—a jagged breath, his muscles tensing up for a fraction of a second as Taehyung finally pushes his finger inside. It takes Jeongguk a second, then, with a pleased sigh, he sinks back into the mattress, throwing an elbow over his face to attempt to hide his smile.
“I’m such a what?” Taehyung asks, dragging his fingers inside of Jeongguk’s hole. He’s a little sticky from prepping himself, definitely ready for more. He pushes another finger in, stretching him wider when there’s no need. It’s purely selfish, just an excuse to feel him, to have him fall apart beneath him. “You feel amazing.”
Jeongguk chuckles, breathless and sweaty, his skin so beautifully flushed and warm from their shower.
“I don’t know, I’m—” he chokes on another moan when Taehyung reaches back, searching. “I need you to fuck me like, right now.”
Taehyung is right there with him, his cock leaking against the side of Jeongguk’s thigh. He isn’t sure he won’t blow it within the first minute, but at this rate, that’s a chance he’s willing to take.
“Mm, ‘kay,” he mumbles into another sloppy kiss. He doesn’t think he ever wants to stop kissing him. “Let me get the condom.”
Jeongguk groans. “Fuck me without it.”
Taehyung’s gut twists.
“Don’t fucking say that,” he barely croaks out, his heartbeat so fast he can barely draw a breath. “Because I would. Fuck,” he groans, Jeongguk’s words a punch in the fucking stomach. He takes a steadying breath, somehow finding a coherent thought through his haze of arousal. “But that’s not the responsible thing to do, is it?”
Jeongguk huffs, reaching for the condom.
“I know it’s not.” He brings the wrapper to his teeth, tearing it right open. He scoots up, motioning for Taehyung to get on his back. Taehyung’s stomach twists with heat, the moan that slips from him involuntary as Jeongguk rolls the condom on for him. “Next time, then.”
Jeongguk grabs the lube, pouring too much on his hand. He must like it wet. Slowly, he drags his hand down Taehyung’s cock, pinching the condom in place at the base of it as he jerks Taehyung off.
“I’m so desperate for you to fuck me right now, but tomorrow, I wanna suck your cock,” Jeongguk says, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark with arousal. “I thought about it when we danced, you know? Taking you to the bathroom and dropping to my knees right there. Make you come right down my throat. Then wipe it off my lips and then go back out there.”
“Fuck, Jeongguk-ah.”
Taehyung reaches down, gripping Jeongguk’s hand. He’s gonna fucking blow it.
Jeongguk smirks. “Next time.”
He releases Taehyung’s cock. Then, he climbs over Taehyung. Slow and teasing, rubbing their cocks together, and Taehyung realizes he needs to snap out of it.
“Want you on your back,” he rasps out, grabbing ahold of Jeongguk’s hip and pushing him back into the mattress. “Want to see you when I fuck you.”
Jeongguk goes easily, smiling like he has Taehyung exactly where he wants him—overwhelmed and out of sorts. He wraps his arms around Taehyung’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss, eager as he spreads his legs.
Grabbing a hold of his own cock, Taehyung steadies himself, fumbling a bit to line himself up as Jeongguk kisses him like a man starved.
Even stretched, Jeongguk is tight. So fucking tight and warm, better than anything Taehyung has even dared to dream of when he’s been alone in bed and pictured this moment.
“I promise you’re not gonna hurt me with that big cock of yours,” Jeongguk chuckles into their kiss. “Please just fuck me.”
Taehyung pulls away, dropping his forehead onto Jeongguk’s. He breathes him in, then he shifts, propping himself up on his palm so he can get a good look at Jeongguk’s face.
Then, he finally pushes all the way in.
A broken moan tears from Jeongguk’s mouth, bouncing off the walls of his bedroom. He wasn’t lying—he takes Taehyung easily, his warm, tight ass pulling him right in, his lips parting as his jaw goes slack.
Jeongguk was made to take cock, and Taehyung is going to give him anything he wants.
He’s stunning.
“Fuck me,” Jeongguk whispers, his ass clenching around Taehyung when he wraps his legs around his waist, egging Taehyung on. “Come on, hyung. You’ve made me wait long enough.”
So Taehyung moves. He starts slowly, pulling back, settling into a rhythm that won’t have him coming on the spot. They kiss—messy and uncoordinated, a clash of teeth, tongue and jagged breaths, both of them seeking the closeness that only comes from being the most vulnerable one can be with another person like this.
They move in sync, Jeongguk’s hands moving to grip at Taehyung’s hip, pulling him to match his thrust, deeper and deeper with each movement.
It’s like they’ve done this thousands of times, their bodies moving like they know one another, a luxury and ease that isn’t guaranteed with any partner in life. Then there’s the excitement, the palpable tension, the rush of endorphins of being with someone for the first time. The accumulation of expectations that somehow don’t measure up to what this actually is.
Jeongguk is a dream come true.
“I’m gonna need to slow this down,” Taehyung painfully admits, slowing his pace and attempting to gather himself by dragging his lips down the side of Jeongguk’s jaw. His skin is warm and sticky, still carrying the traces of his cologne that he must not have scrubbed off completely. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
Jeongguk moans, tangling his hands into the back of Taehyung’s hair. He doesn’t tug, simply keeping them there, tightening his grip just slightly when Taehyung nips down the side of his throat.
“I won’t leave a mark,” he reassures, pressing his lips against his skin instead. He slows their pace into something more languid, thrusting shallow, giving himself a moment of reprieve. “I want to see you,” he whispers. “I’m gonna sit up. Will you touch your cock for me? I want to watch you come all over yourself while I fuck you.”
Jeongguk hums, nodding his approval.
With a steadying breath, Taehyung pulls away, settling on his haunches. Jeongguk’s thick thighs wrap around him, almost caging, so he runs his hands down the outside, tracing his skin.
Jeongguk’s hair is messy and wet, a bit of it matted to his forehead. A slight blush colors his cheeks, probably from the warmth of their bodies coming together, and Taehyung knows this moment is what he’ll think of any time Jeongguk blushes from now on.
Warm skin and swollen lips, and dark, hooded eyes.
Breathtaking.
Taehyung drags his eyes down his body—the broad chest, and the narrow waist that tapers into his strong abs. His cock is bright red and flushed at the tip, a bit of pre-come smeared against his stomach where he must have rubbed against his own skin.
Jeongguk revels in the attention, smirking as he clenches, tightening his ass around Taehyung’s cock.
“Fuck.”
Taehyung grips Jeongguk’s hips. A warning he doesn’t heed.
“You like watching, don’t you?” Jeongguk asks, his eyes fixed on Taehyung as he reaches to grab his cock. An unabashed moan filters into the air between them, going straight to Taehyung’s own cock. “Wanna watch me come all over myself.”
Taehyung can’t drag this out any longer. He starts to move again, his grip on Jeongguk’s hips so tight he might bruise him.
Neither of them seem to mind.
“I do,” he manages to say, his voice broken and low with his own desire. “I can’t wait to watch you come apart.”
Jeongguk smirks, quickening the pace of his hand. He jerks himself off with precision, exactly how he likes to be touched. Not fast but not slow, twisting his hand on the upstroke, brushing his thumb over the tip to smear his own come.
His breathing grows quicker, his chest falling and rising to match his pace.
And Taehyung fucks him. Fucks him deep and deliberate, each snap of his hips deep into Jeongguk’s tight ass.
The bed rattles with their movement, the push and pull of their bodies as they come together.
Familiar heat tugs in the bottom of Taehyung’s stomach, unrelenting and unforgiving. But there’s no way he’s taking his eyes off of Jeongguk right now.
With his jaw slack and his back arching, his movements grow sloppy, the head of his cock peeking through the tight grip of his palm with each thrust.
Taehyung bites down on his lip, closing his eyes for just a fraction of a second—a moment to gather himself, otherwise, he’s going to come, and he’ll be damned if he comes before Jeongguk.
“Keep watching, hyung,” Jeongguk demands, raspy and breathless. “I’m gonna come.”
Taehyung holds on for dear life, clutching Jeongguk’s hips, right on the brink of his own orgasm. Then, with a breathtaking moan, Jeongguk throws his head back, his orgasm crashing over him as he spills hot and white all over his stomach—come painting his skin, all the way up to his chest.
It sets Taehyung over the edge.
His orgasm rips through him wild and hot, his hips stuttering with the force as he fucks Jeongguk through it. The sides of his vision blur, the current that’s been buzzing under his skin now so hot it feels like every nerve ending in his body is set aflame.
Through his haze, he catches Jeongguk’s smile, pleased and spent, the most gorgeous man to ever walk this earth.
Taehyung stills, then he sags, collapsing into the crook of Jeongguk’s neck, barely able to hold his own weight.
Jeongguk laughs. “Too soon to ask for round two?”
All Taehyung manages is a groan.
His heart slows, a feeling of content that he hasn’t felt in a very long time washing over him. Safe and calm, his mind and heart at ease in a way he can’t remember ever feeling.
Sudden emotion wells in his throat. Surely, he can chalk it up to the moment; the overwhelming relief, the happiness from the rush.
That’s what he tells himself, at least. Embarrassed, he clears it, chuckling at Jeongguk’s question that’s laced with his own exhaustion.
“Let a man recover, will you?”
He kisses Jeongguk again. Slow and gentle, without the rush and desperation they just chased. The warmth that’s nestled in his chest spreads wide, and it seems silly now, all those worries and fears that lingered in the back of his mind. The shoe he kept waiting for to drop—the moment where it would all go wrong.
Because nothing has ever felt so right.
They spend a few minutes reveling in the afterglow, but Jeongguk demands they take another shower. Try as they may to actually shower this time, they end up kissing for most of it, Jeongguk haphazardly scrubbing his body between breaths.
Taehyung has no idea when they finally stumble into bed again, the sheets cold from how long they took in the shower. He’s right on the verge of dozing off when Jeongguk springs out of bed, only to return with two bowls of noodles that he apparently ordered, mumbling something about the importance of refueling after sex.
For the first time in his life, he makes an exception to his “no eating in bed” rule, the invisible walls he’s built for himself tumbling left and right since Jeongguk walked into his life.
There’s life in his apartment. Clothes strewn on the floor in the bathroom, another set of shoes by the entrance of his door. A cell phone tossed haphazardly on the nightstand. Life is brighter, somehow. The air is lighter to breathe.
They never have a conversation about Jeongguk staying. That’s a given, not even a topic brought up, Jeongguk nestled under the covers again.
Like he belongs. Taehyung can’t wait to wake up next to him tomorrow.
He checks his phone one last time before he plugs it in for the night, surprised to see a slew of notifications littered across his screen.
“I have five missed calls and—” Taehyung narrows his eyes to get a closer look at his screen. “Around a hundred notifications.”
Ten years ago, a weight would have settled deep in his stomach, a knot of nerves that wouldn’t unravel until he could find out exactly what had happened. Surely, someone must have leaked something about him. Maybe he said something in an interview that was taken out of context. He’d fixate on it all night, unable to let it go.
Nowadays, he doesn’t worry about those things. If it’s bad enough, then Yoongi is involved, and he’s always got it handled.
Jeongguk rolls over to his side, leaning on his elbow to look at Taehyung.
His eyes go wide, as if he’s just realizing something.
“It better not be a video of me walking around your apartment naked.”
Taehyung laughs, swiping down to take a look. The missed calls are from Yoongi, accompanied by a slew of text messages.
“It’s not. It’s just Yoongi freaking out about a few photos of us,” Taehyung explains, angling the screen so Jeongguk can see. “I do agree that they look a little… incriminating.”
The photos are grainy, but they paint a pretty clear picture. The two of them are pressed together on the dance floor, with Taehyung’s lips very clearly brushing against the side of Jeongguk’s temple. A pleased, lazy smile lingers on Jeongguk’s face; it’s clear that he’s enjoying the moment, the photos in the series equally as incriminating the more he scrolls.
Then there’s the last photo, a shot of them holding hands in the rain, facing away from whoever snapped the shot. It’s a romantic capture, one that would look good framed on his wall, the water cascading around them as they serve as the focal piece.
“This would look great framed on the wall,” Taehyung blurts out before he can stop himself, his mouth running away from him. “Not, like, in a weird way, or anything.”
Jeongguk toys with his lip ring.
“You tease me for talking about the drinks at our wedding, meanwhile you’re planning what photos of us to frame in our future home. That’s the pot calling the kettle black, you know.”
Taehyung flicks a finger under his chin. “It’s really not.”
Jeongguk keeps scrolling, looking up at Taehyung when another notification sounds off.
“What else are they saying about us?” Jeongguk hums, scrunching his eyes as he reads. “Oh, they are thorough!”
Jeongguk clears his throat, adjusting to sit up against the headboard instead. The sheet slides down his body, distracting Taehyung for a second longer than he wants to admit.
When he looks back up at Jeongguk, he simply raises a brow.
“Go ahead,” Taehyung proceeds. “Don’t mind me. I’m just looking.”
Jeongguk shakes his head ever so slightly.
“Well, this one says, ‘A-list actor Kim Taehyung and professional gamer and streamer Jeon Jeongguk—known by the moniker JK—continue to fuel the fire of their romance rumors. Tonight, they were seen together at ONYX, where they celebrated Restaurateur Park Jimin’s anniversary. Rumors have been circulating since they were spotted together at SAPPHIRE at the beginning of last month, fans speculating that the couple has been soft launching their relationship, with Jeon making subtle but pointed references to Kim’s past movies on his streams. Netizens also speculate that Kim is the focus of a romantic photo captured recently by the Han River, posted without a caption to Jeon’s Instagram. Official sources have declined to comment on the rumored relationship, but the rumors may be harder to defend after tonight’s photos. Take a look and decide for yourself.”
Taehyung flops into the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Something cold settles in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m sorry.”
The mattress dips as Jeongguk scoots down.
“For?”
“Not being able to have a normal night out without all of this.”
Jeongguk pokes his finger into Taehyung’s side. “You’ve really changed your tune from the first time we talked about it. You know, the whole ‘being seeing with a young man is great for my ego.’”
Taehyung keeps staring at the ceiling, wondering how vulnerable he should be. This moment isn’t meant to be spent like this, with the looming shadow of his public life trying to weasel his way into his safe space.
There’s no reason to not be honest with Jeongguk.
“I’m just… scared it’s going to be too much for you.”
Jeongguk stills.
“This stuff?” He waves the phone around. “The articles? The press?”
Taehyung nods. “Yeah, and everything that comes with me being me.”
“Look, I’m—” Jeongguk pauses, blowing out a steady breath. “I subconsciously planned our fucking wedding. I’m about as gone for you as one can get. All of this doesn’t matter,” he says, dismissively waving his hand around. “I really could not care less, and I don’t care at all what people think about me, to be honest. I had to fight that battle when I decided to play videogames professionally, because I don’t know if you know this, but some people kind of deem that to be like… the ultimate loser behavior.”
Taehyung frowns. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re not a loser.”
“Meh,” Jeongguk jokes, making a so-so motion with his hands. “The point is that I know that this has been an issue in your previous relationships, but I don’t want you to worry about me. Despite my incredibly uncool disposition, I am a big boy, and I can handle myself. So I need you to get whatever thoughts that you have out of your mind, because at the expense of carrying the loser agenda to incredibly uncool extremes, there’s no one I’d rather be with than you, hyung. So this doesn’t matter.”
A stupid smile creeps up Taehyung’s face. The kind he can’t even pretend to dampen, even if he wanted to.
“Okay,” he says. “But you have to agree that it’s a good photo.”
Jeongguk picks the phone back up.
“Engagement notice worthy, I’d say.”
Before Taehyung can answer him, another call comes through, the phone buzzing loudly in Jeongguk’s hand. It’s truly a surprised that they missed the calls the first time around.
“Who is it?” Taehyung asks.
Jeongguk grins, flashing the phone around. “Yoongi-hyung.”
“Answer it.”
There’s no hesitation when he swipes across the screen, his eyes glimmering with mischief.
“Hi, hyung!”
On the other end, Yoongi pauses.
“This is not Taehyung.”
“It’s not.”
Jeongguk bites down on his lip to keep from laughing.
“Jeongguk-ah.”
“Aww, you recognized my voice.”
A deep sigh filters through the other end.
“So you two are together, then.”
“I’m here, yes,” Taehyung answers. “What’s up, hyung?”
“What’s up?” he huffs, almost offended. “What’s up is that you two keep resurfacing all over the tabloids, looking all lovey-dovey in all parts of the city without me knowing a single fucking thing about it.”
Annoyance colors every syllable.
“I thought you supported whatever we wanted to do?”
“Obviously I do, but that’s not the point here. The point is that SEOLTANG is being flooded with questions about you, asking us to comment on two of our clients’ apparent relationship. Which I know nothing about!”
Jeongguk’s grin is wide and menacing. “It still bothers you.”
“Yes. Of course it bothers me that someone leaked this from right under my fucking nose at my own party! And then the two of you just… keep fueling the fire, like you’re getting some sort of kick out of it.”
“I can assure you that’s not why we’re doing it,” Taehyung says. “If you must know, we actually—”
“I must not know,” Yoongi cuts off, leaving no room for arguments. “Meet me at my office in the morning at ten. We need to discuss a few things.”
The line cuts off before they can answer him.
“I’m a little mad he called me and not you!” Taehyung says, tossing the phone to the side and flopping down next to Jeongguk again. “Why would he do that?”
“I mean, my phone is on do not disturb, so he probably did call me. It just went straight to voice mail.”
“You’re a terrible client.”
Jeongguk grins. “I’m aware.”
“I think we’re in trouble.”
“I mean, it’s kind of what we wanted, yeah?” Jeongguk asks, tilting his head. “Yoongi is annoyed. We finally fucked. You called me baby. It all worked out.”
“You caught that.”
“Oh, I absolutely did,” Jeongguk answers, scrunching his nose in delight. “It was cute. Seems like it just slipped out.”
Taehyung chews on his cheek. “Should I stop?”
Jeongguk shakes his head immediately.
“Nope. You keep going,” he says, smiling lazily as he settles under the covers again. “What should I call you? Sweetheart? Darling?”
Taehyung’s stomach flips.
“Hyung is perfectly fine,” he lies, leaning down to kiss Jeongguk so he doesn’t have to answer him just yet. “Now let me be the big spoon, baby,” he whispers onto his lips, hoping the distraction will work. “I wanna hold you.”
It works like a charm, Jeongguk rolling over immediately, his warm back pressed firmly against Taehyung’s chest as they settle into position. Anchored, he sinks into his mattress, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance once more.
“You know, I liked you more when you kept putting your foot in your mouth,” Taehyung murmurs into his skin. “Just so you know.”
Jeongguk’s body shakes with his soft laughter.
“No, you like this more.”
Taehyung presses a kiss against his shoulder, but he doesn’t respond.
They both know Jeongguk is right.
****
“Your clothes that I borrowed from you are in the closet,” Taehyung mentions, looking pointedly at Jeongguk who is still laying in bed. Apparently, he’s the kind of guy who pulls himself out of bed at the very last second, and Taehyung will admit that it was hard to roll out of bed when Jeongguk’s warm body was melded into his own. “If you need something else to wear.”
Jeongguk stretches, the sheet sliding down his body.
“So I can’t wear something of yours?”
Taehyung ignores the way his body heats. “Oh, you want to wear my clothes?”
“We need to sell this relationship to Yoongi.”
Taehyung bursts into laughter. “Sure. That’s why you want to wear them.”
“No, that’s not why,” Jeongguk agrees, his smile stretching so wide his nose scrunches. “I think it’s only fair that I get to wear something of yours, that’s all.”
His chest flutters at the thought of Jeongguk in his clothes.
“Be my guest,” he offers, gesturing toward the closet. “I won’t stop you.”
At the permission, Jeongguk bounds out of bed, his hair messy and his body flushed from the warmth of the bed.
Jeongguk takes his time in the closet, so Taehyung ventures into the kitchen, making them both a shot of espresso as he waits. There’s no reason to be nervous, he thinks, but he can’t help but glance down on his wrist to check the time.
“We will make it on time,” Jeongguk teases him when he enters the kitchen, attuned to Taehyung’s irrational anxiety. “The office is a ten minute drive, and we don’t have to be there for another thirty minutes.”
Taehyung exhales. “I told you it’s a character flaw.”
“What if we really throw Yoongi off and arrive ten minutes late?”
Immediately, Taehyung shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on,” Jeongguk coaxes, eagerly extending his hand for his coffee. “He’d be so flustered. You’ll be flustered. It will be fun.”
Taehyung narrows his eyes. “Is this who you really are?”
A violent shiver rips through Jeongguk as he downs the coffee in one go, making him shake his head vigorously.
Taehyung takes the moment to look at him. Out of all the items at his disposal in the closet, he’s chosen a pair of loose, gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He really committed to finding an outfit for his liking, because he must have dug through at least three drawers of workout clothes to find the pants.
“Do you not approve?” Jeongguk asks, glancing down at himself.
Taehyung sets his coffee aside, then he crosses the kitchen, closing the distance between them.
“Oh, I approve,” he says, bringing Jeongguk in to kiss him. It’s nothing like the kisses they shared last night. It’s soft and quick, but it might be one of his favorite ones yet, shared in the morning light of his kitchen with Jeongguk dressed in his clothes. “They suit you.”
Jeongguk hums into the kiss, the one to reach out and grab Taehyung’s face so he can deepen it when he tries to pull away.
He tastes of mint and espresso, fresh toothpaste and bitter coffee. It shouldn’t be as addicting as it is, but Taehyung falls right in line, kissing Jeongguk back with just as much enthusiasm.
Jeongguk tears away to kiss at the corner of his mouth.
“You could put me on the counter and kiss me some more.”
Oh, he absolutely could. He could probably also pull his sweats down just enough to get his c—
“You are trying to make us late,” he says when it dawns on him. “Aren’t you?”
Jeongguk chuckles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Taehyung isn’t having it. He grabs the coffee cup from Jeongguk, carelessly tossing it into the sink.
“We’re leaving,” he says, leaving Jeongguk behind as he walks down the hallway. “Right now.”
“Can we stop for coffee?”
Taehyung smiles to himself, fairly certain that Jeongguk is just pushing his luck.
“No,” he says.
He would, though.
The drive to Yoongi’s is even quicker on the weekend, the city not yet awake at the ungodly hour of ten am, as Jeongguk would say. They joke about their gameplan and discuss what they will tell Yoongi, though ultimately, they decide to just play it by ear. Neither of them have ever seen Yoongi so shaken by something, and they’re not quite ready to let it go.
As dutifully as always, Hoseok sits behind his desk when they arrive at the thirty-eight floor. Yoongi must really pay him well for him to willingly man the office on a Sunday morning.
He stands to greet them, nodding as he gestures toward the door.
It’s cracked open, anticipating their arrival.
Normally, they’d find Yoongi behind his desk, with his glasses low on the bridge of his nose as he looks for something on his computer. Stacks of documents usually sit at the edge of his desk, surely awaiting his signature, but today, that’s not the sight that greets them.
On the far end of the room, Yoongi lies on his couch, his feet propped up against the armrest while his phone rests on chest. His glasses are tossed onto the table next to a half-drunk iced Americano and a pack of cigarettes.
Last week, he told Taehyung that he had quit.
He’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a knitted cardigan. An interesting combination, but Taehyung isn’t going to question him.
“Did you sleep here?” Jeongguk asks, coming to a halt as he takes in the sight of him. “And what the fuck are you wearing, hyung?”
Yoongi remains on the couch.
“I’m hung over,” he grumbles, his voice hoarse. “Give me a minute, will you?”
Neither of them move, watching as Yoongi tries to shake himself back to life. It takes him a few seconds, but he sits up, looking around helplessly with his eyes scrunched before he locates his glasses on the table.
He runs a hand through his hair, blowing a shaky breath out. He’s a little paler than usual, his mouth drawn into a thin line.
They both stare at him, not quite sure what their next move is.
Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes unreadable as he keeps staring at them.
“You two are dating,” he finally says, the coffee sploshing in the cup when he sets it down again.
The coffee seems to have kicked him back to life, because he works quickly when he snaps his head to look between the two of them.
“Are we?”
Taehyung and Jeongguk turn to look at each other.
“We are?”
“What the hell are these, if not?” Yoongi demands to know, his movements incredibly swift for his state as he navigates to a folder on his phone. It’s hard to see from a distance, but there appears to be at least a hundred photos in there. Some professional, some looking like they’ve been taken by a grainy cell phone from hundreds of meters away. It’s hard to see, but Taehyung gets the gist of it. “And don’t you dare lie to me.”
“I mean, we haven’t really defined it,” Jeongguk says, scratching the back of his neck. If Yoongi looks close enough, he might see the remnants of the hickey Taehyung accidentally left there last night after Jeongguk gave him the green light in the shower. “If you want to get technical.”
Taehyung’s mouth runs ahead of him again.
“We should, though. I’m not interested in seeing anyone else.”
Though shocked, Jeongguk recovers quickly, smoothing out his surprised expression. He blinks a few times.
“Me neither,” he finally says. “You’re plenty to deal with.”
A beautiful smile traces Jeongguk’s face. The kind that makes his eyes sparkle, the top of his nose scrunching with it.
Of course it’s as simple as that with Jeongguk. Nothing more than a conversion, a mutual agreement that’s so clearly felt between them already.
Yoongi huffs and rubs his hand over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“Aren’t you happy for us?” Jeongguk asks.
With a sigh, Yoongi leans back in on the couch. He crosses his arms over his chest, his cheeks puffing with his exhale.
“I’m not not happy.”
“That’s—”
The door creaks open, abruptly interrupting their conversation. Yoongi snaps his head up, looking expectantly at the doorway.
Jung Hoseok stands tall and unapologetic, equipped with a folder and an iPad. He looks down on his watch, then back up at Yoongi, telling him all he needs to know with a nod.
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Yoongi says, rubbing his hand over his face again. Whatever is going on this Sunday is serious. “You can come in. We’re just wrapping up,” Yoongi says, gesturing for Hoseok to take a seat. “I’ll be ready.”
“Look, it’s not the worst thing that could happen,” Taehyung interjects, attempting to smooth it over. “Right?”
“Not at all,” Yoongi agrees. “You two are probably my most agreeable clients. It’s just—” he sighs, looking out the window as he lets his sentence die midway through. “I still don’t know who leaked the story from my party at SAPPHIRE. That is what pisses me the fuck off about this whole thing.”
Taehyung leans forward.
“That’s why you can’t be excited for us? Because you don’t know who leaked a story from… what? Well over a month ago? Almost two?!”
Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Ten years with you as my client, and not a single. fucking. thing. has leaked,” he grumbles, pointing at Taehyung. “Not even the nudes you sent!”
Jeongguk gasps, whipping his head around so quickly that Taehyung hears his neck crack.
“You have nudes out there?”
“No, he doesn’t! Because I killed them before it turned into anything,” Yoongi interjects. “Because that’s what I do.”
Jeongguk’s mouth slacks.
“Look,” Taehyung says, a bit embarrassed as he turns toward Jeongguk. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen?”
Yoongi’s lips turn downward into a frown. “Stop right now.”
“I’ll send you some,” he says to Jeongguk, just to irk Yoongi. “As soon as we leave.”
“Oh my god, stop!” Yoongi demands, pointing directly at Taehyung when he speaks. “And for the love of fucking god, did you not learn the first time you sent nudes? You’re a lost cause,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “My issue, as I said on the phone, is that I’m constantly five steps behind you. That shouldn’t happen. That doesn’t happen to me. And you two are no help!” Yoongi gestures wildly between them. “Sitting here acting like this.”
“How is this possibly our fault?” Taehyung asks. “We didn’t leak the photos. Unless that’s what you think?”
Jeongguk shakes his head. “I mean, I was fucking wasted, but I double checked the next morning to make sure I didn’t accidentally like… post them on my accounts, or anything.”
Yoongi’s lip twitches into a tiny smile.
Jeongguk was right, Yoongi does have a soft spot for him.
“Not that I’m eavesdropping, but I am,” Hoseok interrupts, standing up and straightening out his slacks. “Did you just say that you don’t know how the initial story leaked?” He asks, looking at Yoongi. “Is that what I heard?”
Yoongi nods. “Mm. It’s been the bane of my fucking existence.”
Hoseok stares at him, his usual composure wavering for a brief second.
“You’re being serious right now?” he asks, narrowing his eyes as he assesses Yoongi’s state. “You are being serious,” he confirms, choking on a breath. “Oh, God. Okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yoongi asks.
“And not once during all this did you think to… I don’t know? Maybe ask me?” Hoseok asks. “Not once did you stop to think, ‘hey, maybe I should check with my assistant to see if he has any information on this, since, you know… he knows almost everything that goes on around here?’”
Yoongi scoots forward on the couch, his lips parting in surprise.
“You know.”
Hoseok nods once, the corner of his lip twitching as he holds back the smile.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think I had to?” Hoseok says, laughing to himself. “This is better than I expected.”
“Could you spit it out?” Yoongi demands, smoothing his tone over when Hoseok lifts a brow. “Please.”
Hoseok bites down on his lip, looking between Jeongguk and Taehyung, then he clears his throat.
“You got incredibly intoxicated the night of the anniversary party,” Hoseok starts. “After drinking a few too many of those fruity drinks.”
Yoongi cringes. “I told you to never bring that up again.”
“I’m afraid it’s imperative to this story.”
Next to him, Jeongguk slaps a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
“If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t the only intoxicated one that night,” Taehyung supplies unnecessarily.
Jeongguk kicks him.
“Go on,” Yoongi demands.
Hoseok scratches the back of his neck. “Well, in this… intoxicated state of yours, you caught wind of Taehyung and Jeongguk talking to each other by the bar. We were sitting in—”
“In the private booth across from the bar,” Yoongi fills in, scrunching his nose. “I remember. I reserved it for us, seeing as it was my own party.”
“Do you remember demanding that I give you my phone so you could take photos of Jeongguk and Taehyung when Jeongguk barreled into him and spilled his drink on him?”
The color drains from Yoongi’s face.
“Right, I’m going to take that as a ‘no,’” Hoseok says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep composed. “You did. And then you told me to, and I quote you verbatim here, ‘send it off to the highest bidder and sell the story about the new A-list couple in town,’ because you were feeling in the mood to ‘play matchmaker for Taehyung who can’t land himself a date, and for Jeongguk who needs to get away from his computer and get fucked really well, for once.’”
Yoongi’s mouth falls open, but not a single word comes out.
“I’m so sorry about the language,” Hoseok apologizes to them both, offering a curt bow of his head. “His words, not mine.”
“What do you mean I can’t land a date?” Taehyung huffs.
“Fucked, for once?” Jeongguk echoes.
“So, yeah,” Hoseok says, shrugging his shoulders. “I was the one who leaked the story. At your directive.”
“No. No, no, no,” Yoongi says, springing to his feet. He starts pacing, his eyes wild as he looks at them. “There’s no fucking way.”
“I can pull up the emails I sent that evening.”
“No need,” Yoongi grumbles. “You’re telling me that I created my own fucking problem?”
Both Jeongguk and Taehyung burst into laughter.
“Yes. The call came from inside the house,” Hoseok says, laughing at his own joke. “But it seems to have worked out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yoongi screeches.
“Because you told me to never speak of it again!” Hoseok responds, matching Yoongi’s excitement. “And I learned my lesson that one time I brought up you fucking that one guy fr—”
“Hoseok-ah!” Yoongi cuts off, boring his eyes into Hoseok. “Point taken. I told you to not mention it again, so you didn’t. That’s fair. Thank you.”
“There’s a story here,” Jeongguk says, intrigued.
“There is.”
“There is not.”
Yoongi and Hoseok speak at the same time.
“Fuck,” Yoongi groans, tipping his head back. He looks up at the ceiling for at least ten seconds, his chest rising as he attempts to gather his breath. When he looks back at the rest of them, he looks resigned. “I am so sorry. For leaking the story about the two of you. And for turning it into this whole thing.”
Yoongi sounds truly sorry, but that’s not the focus here.
“How about you apologize for saying I can’t score a date?!”
“It’s the truth,” Yoongi counters unapologetically. “I won’t say sorry.”
Jeongguk nods. “He’s not wrong.”
“I truly am sorry for doing the exact opposite of what I’m meant to do, though,” Yoongi says, smiling sadly at them. “But I’m not sorry for playing matchmaker. You can thank me later, you know. Maybe in your vows.”
A weird noise lodges in the back of Jeongguk’s throat.
“What the hell is happening?” Jeongguk asks.
Yoongi looks down on his watch.
“Oh, would you look at that? It’s time for our conference call with London,” he says to Hoseok, dodging Jeongguk’s question. “Isn’t it?”
Hoseok snorts. “I can push it for five minutes.”
“I’d rather you don’t.”
Taehyung laughs incredulously.
“We had a plan to fuck with you, you know… share some ambiguous yet couple-y photos, make some comments, play into this whole relationship that the press was selling, just because we knew it would irk you,” Taehyung says. “And come to find out, you’re the one who leaked the story in the first place. I don’t know who the bigger idiot is, here? You or us?”
“It worked out, didn’t it?” Yoongi fires back immediately. “You landed yourself a boyfriend, and Jeongguk finally got laid!”
“Hyung!” they both say in unison.
“You can thank me anytime,” Yoongi says, waving his hand dismissively. “Or in the wedding vows. I’m not picky. Just a thank you at some point would be nice.”
Jeongguk’s cheek flush red.
“Oh! I know just the perfect person to help plan the wedding,” Hoseok chimes in. “And wouldn’t it be cute if your best friend catered it? What’s his name?” Hoseok snaps his fingers as he tries to recall the name. He beams a beautiful smile when it dawns on him. “Ah! Park Jimin! He’s your best friend, right?” he asks, looking at Jeongguk. “It’s all coming together so beautifully! Maybe Kim Seokjin can officiate it? He’s been there since the beginning.”
Yoongi stands up, slowly walking over to his desk. Without much thought, he swipes the files away, a few of them landing on the floor in his haste. Hoseok sighs, but doesn’t say anything.
He types in his password, then he looks up.
“Wait, you two were going to… pretend to be in some sort of PR relationship to fuck with me?” he asks, pointing to himself. “That was the plan?”
“It sounds weird when you put it that way,” Taehyung says.
“But that’s what you said, right? You were going to post photos? Be out and about without letting me know? You know I don’t care about that stuff,” he mumbles. “That’s not the point I’m trying to make… You guys didn’t even make it two months, did you? You already fell in love.”
A flash of heat runs through Taehyung, unexpected and searing hot as it clings to his skin. Suddenly, he doesn’t know where to look, whether at Jeongguk or Yoongi.
Hoseok it is.
“Oh, you two are so in love!” Hoseok sing-songs, clapping his hands ferociously. Hoseok is the epitome of unshakeable, his sudden exuberance both startling and adorable. “And judging by how the two of you look right now, you haven’t told each other yet!”
The sound that comes out of Taehyung’s mouth is downright pathetic.
Yoongi’s deep laugh almost rattles the walls.
“You two deserve each other!” he quips, his shoulders shaking. “See! This is why I needed to play matchmaker. You two are total losers. You can’t even look at each other right now. Play pretend to irritate me and you end up falling in love in two seconds. Pathetic.”
Yoongi’s happiness radiates off of him.
“You didn’t even know you played matchmaker!”
Taehyung’s argument is weak.
“That is entirely besides the point,” Yoongi says. He claps his hands twice, as if that’s that, then he points to the door. “Please go! We have a crisis to deal with in London. Be safe, kids. All I ask is that you don’t take nudes and don’t make a sex tape… the rest I leave to you. I trust that you’re boring enough to not make any crazy headlines.”
Jeongguk stares with his mouth open, a bit of color still dusted across his cheeks. There’s both admiration and annoyance in his eyes when he looks at Yoongi, the exact same way that Yoongi looks at Jeongguk.
“Alright, alright. We’ll go,” Taehyung says, making sure to look over his shoulder as Hoseok ushers them through the door. “You might regret that.”
Yoongi snorts. “I doubt it.”
It’s the last thing they hear before Hoseok slams the door shut behind them, leaving them alone in the lobby with nothing but the tension charged in the air.
Taehyung clears his throat.
“So—”
“I—”
They speak at the same time, both of them stopping abruptly to let the other continue.
Neither of them do.
“You go first, hyung.”
Taehyung blinks, not failing to notice the smirk on Jeongguk’s lips.
“No. You go first.”
Jeongguk smiles. “You gonna take your time admitting this, too? Like how it took you weeks to kiss me?”
“Oh. Okay,” he says. “That’s how it’s going to be?”
Jeongguk chuckles. “I’m waiting.”
And he does. He stands in front of Taehyung with his sparkling smile and his glimmering eyes. The most beautiful man Taehyung has ever met.
So Taehyung draws a breath— a poor attempt to calm his suddenly racing heart.
It probably isn’t normal, but at this rate, he’s accepted that nothing in his life is. This thing between him and Jeongguk is so new, and that should reel him back in. He knows what happens when he doesn’t guard his heart, but somehow, that doesn’t seem to matter this time around.
The voice in his head that’s told him he can’t keep passing these moments by is louder than anything he’s ever experienced, telling him that if he fucks this up, there will be no going back.
Jeongguk may not have been in his life very long, but in the time that he’s been, he’s found a way to challenge him. Unapologetic and unrestrained, he barged into Taehyung’s life and opened him up to a perspective he didn’t realize he needed, forcing him to put a name to the feelings that took up so much space they managed to diminish part of him.
Without judgement, he has listened, making space for Taehyung to feel safe—something he didn’t think he had the luxury of anymore. A part of himself he had closed off, not to be shared.
Jeongguk has brought him out of the shell he didn’t realize he’d built.
And Jeongguk deserves the world. He is the kind of man that Taehyung doesn’t know if he deserves, but knows he wants to make happy.
Probably for the rest of his life.
It terrifies him as much as it excites him.
“I’m terrified,” Taehyung suddenly blurts, not sure that’s what he meant to say. Startled, Jeongguk blinks, and Taehyung realizes he better keep talking before he gets the wrong idea. “I’m terrified that I’m going to fuck this up. That I’m somehow not… what you expect,” Taehyung says, his stomach coiling with something cold. “But that is on me, not on you,” he hurries to correct. “And I… I am, without a doubt, falling in love with you. Which terrifies me, because it’s so soon. And despite all of my horrific experiences in the past, I have a feeling that isn’t a bad thing with you. Quite the opposite, actually. You’re—”
Taehyung pauses to take a breath, his throat trembling with his heartbeat.
“I’m what?” Jeongguk barely whispers.
“You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, and I am in way over my head with you.”
The words land between them, the silence thick and charged with that split second of horror. That brief moment of the unknown. The anticipation, the possibility of rejection, even if Taehyung knows that isn’t the case here.
But it doesn’t stop his heart from filling in the space with the truths he’s always known.
“You really are a loser,” Jeongguk says, immediately following his words by slapping his hand over his mouth, his eyes round with shock. “Shit. I mean that in like—a really good way.”
“I’m a loser in a good way?”
“Yes!” Jeongguk responds, shaking his head vigorously. “Well, okay, that’s not what I meant to say,” he says, color flushing down his neck again. He’s so fucking captivating. “Okay. So. What I meant to say is that I, too, feel like I’m in over my head with you,” he says, biting down on his lip. “And part of me is starting to agree with Yoongi that maybe we both are a lost cause and needed his help. I will never admit that to him, and neither should you,” he hurries out. “And if it wasn’t clear, I’m, you know, also absolutely falling in love with you. Which I’m pretty sure is very clear, but in case it wasn’t, I’m saying it now. And before I start rambling, I’m going to shut up. And it isn’t too soon, I think. The whole falling in love, or whatever. I mean, maybe it is, but it doesn’t feel too soon, considering you’re taking your time,” he says. Then, quickly, he blurts out. “Oh god, I’m still rambling. That’s all.”
The tightness in his stomach unfurls, unraveling into a fluttering warmth instead.
“Yeah?” Taehyung asks, taking a step forward. He traces his eyes over Jeongguk’s face—his glimmering, dark eyes and the sharp cut of his jaw. The most enthralling combination to exist. “That’s all?”
Jeongguk nods, keeping it concise. “Yup.”
“So we both agree it isn’t too fast,” he confirms, reaching out to trace the side of Jeongguk’s jaw. “And I assume neither of us have any interest in seeing other people, then.”
“You know you don’t have to ask me that,” Jeongguk breathes out, his lips parting in anticipation when Taehyung runs his thumb across his lip. “I only want you.”
Taehyung doesn’t bother holding his smile back. Not when he looks at Jeongguk, and not when he leans in to kiss him.
Against his own lips, he feels the curve of Jeongguk’s smile, the shared relief of laying it all on the table without anything unsaid.
“And I only want you,” he mumbles into the kiss, his heart slowing into something steadier. “And right now, I really want to go home with you.”
Jeongguk kisses him back, his grip tight on his hips. A kiss not meant to be shared in public, but it doesn’t seem to matter, neither of them keen on breaking apart. He doesn’t know how long they kiss, but when they finally pull apart, it’s Jeongguk who stops them from doing something stupid in the lobby of Yoongi’s office.
His lips glisten red, plump and slightly swollen.
“Come back to mine?”
Taehyung snakes his hand beneath Jeongguk’s shirt, slow as he runs his hand down his spine.
“Is it to fuck this time?” Taehyung teases. “Or to stream again?”
Jeongguk chuckles, dipping his head into the crook of Taehyung’s neck. He takes a breath, his heart hammering against Taehyung’s chest.
“I’d prefer the first, but I’m afraid it’s the second option,” he sighs, shaking his head at himself as he pulls away. “I have a joint stream with someone. It’s part of the charity competitions that I do. I normally don’t stream at this hour otherwise, and to be honest, I’d much rather we go home and f—”
Taehyung presses his fingers against Jeongguk’s lips.
“It’s okay, baby.”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen.
“If you’re good with it, I’d still like to come over. I don’t mind watching.”
“I know.” Jeongguk smirks. “Is this some sort of weird voyeur thing for you?”
“You’ll never know.”
He tugs on Jeongguk’s hand, leading him down the hallway to the elevator. His mind takes him back to the first time they were here, not much different from today, when that fleeting moment flashed in his mind when he dared to ask Jeongguk to lunch.
To not let the moment pass him by.
Taehyung knows there will be more of those moments. The kind that reminds him that he should take a chance, because Jeongguk, he is learning, is worth every single one of them.
****
Much to Taehyung’s horror, they run late, Jeongguk barely clearing his promised stream time with a minute to spare.
Still clad in Taehyung’s clothes, Jeongguk sits down in front of his computer.
He almost makes a remark that he should change back into that tank top from the stream that Taehyung first watched. Just to ensure he has a captivated audience, and all.
Thankfully, he changes his mind at the last second, not keen on being made in front of an audience.
So he texts it to him instead.
Jeongguk’s phone pings on the desk. He doesn’t even wait a second this time, immediately picking it up.
He smirks, shaking his head in amusement as he types out his response.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
maybe i should just take my shirt off altogether
“No.”
The words tumble out of Taehyung before he can stop himself. Immediately, he slaps a hand over his mouth, keeping himself from saying anything else.
He was meant to type it out.
A weight sinks in his stomach.
The last thing he wants to do is distract Jeongguk from his work, or make his presence known. This isn’t about him—it’s about Jeongguk, and about his work.
But the worst doesn’t happen.
Jeongguk laughs out loud, but he keeps his eyes on the screen. If he’s concerned about it, he doesn’t let it show, an amused look passing on his face as he keeps looking at the monitor.
“Who’s texting me?” Jeongguk reads out loud, peeking at the comments on the right. He leans closer, as if he’s getting a better look, his brows creased as he pinches his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. “You guys have been so nosy lately.”
Taehyung leans back on the couch, careful to not make a sound.
At the same time, Jeongguk picks his phone up again, quick as he fires off a text.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
do you trust me?
He doesn’t even think about his response.
Taehyung
Yes
Jeongguk’s phone pings with another text, and a second later, Taehyung’s does, too.
jeon jeongguk 🖤
brace yourself
He tosses the phone back on the desk again, leaning in to read the comments once more.
“Is there someone in the room with me?” he reads, glancing to his right where there’s nothing but the door. Then, he looks to his left.
Right at Taehyung.
As always, his eyes glimmer, the corner of his mouth lifting into a breathtaking smile.
Taehyung’s heart speeds up, his blood rushing so quickly in his body that he can barely hear.
“Yeah, there is,” Jeongguk says, turning his attention back to the monitor. He laughs softly to himself. “I like your guesses. So creative! And no, it’s not Kit-Kat. She’s at Jimin’s house this week,” he answers a few of them, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. “Is it my boyfriend?” he reads aloud, tilting his head in curiosity. “Yeah, it is. But don’t ask to see him. He’s a little camera shy as of late,” Jeongguk lies, laughing at his own joke that he knows Taehyung gets. “Don’t worry, I don’t think it’ll last forever, though,” he says. Horrified, his eyes go round. “The camera shyness that is! The relationship definitely will.”
Taehyung can’t see very well, but he catches the flurry of comments on the right side of the screen.
In front of the screen, Jeongguk shines. Confident and quick, carefree and at home, even when he says things he probably doesn’t mean to say.
“Right, hyung?” he asks, winking as he throws his head over his shoulder. “Maybe one day you’ll join me in front of the camera and let me annihilate you?”
Taehyung shakes his head, mouthing a quiet “no, thank you.”
“I take your silence as a yes.”
Jeongguk is fucking goading him.
But Taehyung can’t be outdone.
“You’re ridiculous,” he finally says, unable to contain his laugh. “You’re setting me up to fail. It’s unfair.”
Jeongguk shakes his head, his nose scrunching with his smile.
“All you do is sit there and stare at me. Surely you’ve picked out some tricks by now,” Jeongguk says, his smirk a little too confident when he looks back at his screen. “He has a thing for watching, you see.”
Taehyung gasps, but Jeongguk ignores him.
“How did we meet?” someone asks Jeongguk, his voice filled with mirth as he reads the question. “I ran into hyung at an event, and he couldn’t stop flirting with me. Quite straight-froward, to be honest. Caught me by surprise, because he wouldn’t stop talking about how handsome I was.”
If he thought he was in over his head before, Jeongguk has just shown him that he has no idea just how much.
“That’s not how that happened!” Taehyung interjects, coming to a full stand before he realizes there’s nothing he can do. Helplessly, he falls back into the couch cushions. “It was the other way around. There were witnesses! Kim Seokjin was there!”
Jeongguk laughs delightedly.
At least they aren’t leaking nudes and making a sex tape.
“He, of course, has no recollection of this happening that night. Don’t worry, we’ve filled in the details for him since then.”
“That’s literally not how it happened,” Taehyung mutters, loud enough for it to be caught on the stream. “Jeonggukie, come on, baby.”
Jeongguk throws his head back and laughs.
“He’s right, it didn’t happen that way,” he finally relents, his eyes glimmering again. “Our PR agent actually leaked a story about us to get us together. He sent photos of us to the highest bidder, then he called us into his office the next morning, demanding to know why we didn’t tell him we were dating. Insane work, but very efficient. 10/10 would recommend his services.”
Taehyung chokes on his breath.
Another row of comments pop up on the screen, but Jeongguk minimizes the window.
“Alright, it’s time to play,” he says, clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders. He throws one last glance at Taehyung, his smile so beautiful it makes Taehyung’s heart soar. “Just keep watching.”
Their phones ping again, a group text coming in, but Taehyung ignores it in favor of doing exactly what Jeongguk asked.
He keeps watching, his eyes glued to the man who’s turned his entire life upside down. Even if he wants to look away, he isn’t sure that he could.
Taehyung may not know where he’s going next, but for the first time in a very long time, that thought doesn’t scare him. For the first time in a very long time, the uncertainty of the future isn’t as daunting as it once was.
So he keeps watching.