#taekookau The pole apart economic statuses but, To Taehyung, They bend the pole into a heart, Difference is non existent on the creaky bed, eating cheap snacks that could give his gourmet chefs a seizure. 2 years is time to long to find that Jungkook never felt the same~

• Or where Taehyung relishes in the fact how smoothly Jungkook and him fit into a mould despite the divergence on their upbringing. Jungkook, though, is just extremely good at hiding his uncertainties.

Or an angsty/ hurt-comfort sequel to~

Strangely enough, it begins at 6am in the morning.

An irony in itself, because Taehyung may be many good things but definitely not a morning person. However, this day, for someone who slept only four hours ago after some tiresome shenanigans with his boyfriend, his eyes don’t slack to unlid.

His eyes open like he just had the most complete slumber of his adulthood, the one that has his lips pulling in a lazy grin; feet pointing forward in a slow stretch.

Like any day of a good or bad (usual) morning, he turns to the right to bury himself in Jungkook’s fresh strawberry scent; however ends up smashing his face into the faintly same smelling pillow.

The disgruntled sound that emits out of his throat gets muffled into the pillow as he kicks the mattress below in a smiley frustration. The damn bunny. Unchasable. In two years of dating, Taehyung has never been able to track him waking up.

It’s like Jungkook was the official alarm clock for the morning sun, waking and hopping around at the ass crack of dawn. Ew and awe in one circuit. Taehyung smiles again because /god/.

He turns the other side with the pillow squished between his arms and legs, nose buried in the lingering lover-fragrance. He sees Jungkook then. Sitting by the window packed in his favourite pink blanket, hair shiny as they flare on the window grill he rests his head on,

Jungkook’s face (the pretty /pretty/ thing) glows in the carded morning light. His cheeks tinting color of the blanket, so are the feet that peek out of it and nudge the big toes together. So effortlessly breathtaking,

Taehyung will never not be in awe of this dream he wakes up to. “Baby so far~” he croaks groggily, perhaps too low for Jungkook, who continues to stare outside the windowpane he sits on. Taehyung doesn’t call again.

Because this is new. Jungkook is always so aloof, so radiant; it’s rare to see him just lost in a thought. So Taehyung takes his time to admire that and can’t help but softly smile again.

Jungkook curls further into the blanket; brings his knees to his chest, faces away from the outside view and rests his cheek on the knee.

Taehyung wonders if Jungkook’s thoughts are as absurd as his when his mind zeroes in on how squishy the other’s cheeks are; how straight that line in the middle of his forehead is when he frowns in the deep thought; how boopable the nose— “Oh? Look who’s up.”

Jungkook leans back on the wall beside the window, eyebrows raised concocting with a lazy grin. “Isn’t it still midnight in Taehyung square timezone?” “Still boyfriend sniffing hours in TST, if only the said boyfriend wouldn’t be abandoning me in this lonely land.”

“Sounds like a mean boyfriend-“Jungkook snorts, already beginning to get up, “But you didn’t call for him?” “Barely. He seemed like he was in some deep thought; didn’t wanna intrude.”

Jungkook crawls on the edge of the bed, climbs over his blanket edge and plops face-first on Taehyung’s stomach. The antiquated fan that whines every 3 seconds finds sounds of giggles overthrowing its impact.

Jungkook buries deeper his face into the soft tummy, lolled by Taehyung’s fingers carding through his hair. “You’re even prettier in the early morning” On Taehyung’s coaxing call, Jungkook turns to lay his head on the stomach so they can conveniently stare.

“Who would have thought that was possible.” Jungkook smiles, and now Taehyung observes the eyes don't shine with the smile as much as they always do. Again, it could just be attributed to the peculiar time he has managed to wake.

“Too early to flirt, Tae.” He nuzzles further into the night T-shirt. “Never.” There’s a brief moment of comfortable nothingness before Taehyung speaks again, hand gently wheedling into the silky brown fluff of hair. “Is it okay to ask what got you so deep in thought?”

“It’s my deep-thought hour. I could be looking like I’m having a groundbreaker cosmology realization when I could just be thinking of pad thai, soju and sex.” “At 6 am?” “Sometimes 5:30.”

With a scoffy chuckle, Taehyung pulls him to his chest, places a fleet kiss on the tousled head. Jungkook just silently rests himself. Fiddling with his slender fingers, Jungkook braids their legs together;

traces tiny back and forth patterns with his toes on the other’s leg under the borrowed pajamas. “Tae?” Even after the prompt hum in reply, Jungkook takes a moment to reply; Taehyung lets him. “You should go to the ball.” “Oh, did you change your mind about it?”

“No–” it comes out hesitant like Taehyung’s never known Jungkook to be. “Go with… Seojoon.” He mumbles the last part and avoids the eye. And jokes of such kind are common for them; Taehyung would have definitely laughed, if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s body being oddly stiff

in his arms. “Good one. You almost got me there.” He chuckles nonetheless, hoping to brush it off against his skeptic intuitions. Jungkook, though… is quiet. Way too quiet for his heart that spurs restlessly.

More and more because it's been a minute and Jungkook still isn’t laughing it off. On a gentle nudge upwards, Jungkook takes the idea and sits up, allowing Taehyung to sit up against the headboard too. In the brief span of facing each other, Taehyung has a small sag in his gut.

Maybe it's the downturn of Jungkook’s lips or just his instincts kicking withdraw-alert. He smiles but, because no way did his lover just ask him to attend the ball /exclusive/ to spouses and lovers with someone else! “I mean it, Tae.”

And Taehyung only /smiles/ still. What if he does mean that?

Jungkook isn’t brought up in the grandstands of society-A, nor does he understand the implications of the casual suggestion. It’s okay. “Baby.” He keeps his hand on Jungkook’s cheek and the contact is what makes him notice the nervous perspiration on his palm.

“It doesn’t happen that way. You can only take your partner or you go alone. And I don’t wanna go alone when I have a partner.” He is breathing deep because against the rational judgment that he knows is true, is a throbbing beat of anger.

He just needs Jungkook to understand, agree with him, and cuddle him. “So? No one has to know!” Jungkook says, and there’s this desperate goad in his eyes that has Taehyung retracting his hand to his chest.

“Not like they’ll interview you for the love life when you arrive with him! And– and Seojoon’s your friend he won’t even tell anyon-” “Baby-” Taehyung sits straight and puts a tiny distance between them. And then he smiles. It’s wobbling and forced, but he still smiles because..

“Please stop talking.” “No, but think about it Tae-” he holds Taehyung’s hand that loosely hangs over the chest, clutches so softly it feels like genteel cotton. Taehyung doesn’t know then why the touch feels so /heavy/. “You have a golden offer on your plate.”

“I’m gonna take a nap, I think.” Jungkook’s grip tightens when he tries to retract his hand. “This isn’t something I ever wanna discuss again.” “Just attend the damn ball, babe why are you making this sound like I’m asking you to date someone else?”

“What is with you today? You literally laughed about Seojoon’s request yesterday. Today you’re… You don’t even understand what you’re–” Jungkook’s stance is cursory in a second, as he folds back his legs, rests his hands on his knees with a tiny wrinkle in the middle of his

forehead. “Your parents would want their son there, the media would, everything falls into place. It’s just a damn night!” Taehyung’s smile betrays him as it falls.

To a third set of eyes, this might seem like an exaggerated response when Taehyng turns to get off the bed, the cold floor against his feet mollifying the aberrant heat rising inside his body.

When he was just a child and was let into the event because his mother would refuse to let him out of sight, he remembers stealing glances at the hall. The smiles of a couple, hand in hand, hand on waist, hand on shoulder, eyes on nothing but each other; the nine-year-old

Taehyung had felt a shiver in him just thinking of doing this with someone someday. He wants to spin in the center of that room with his lover in arms. Kiss with a childish curious delight when the elders aren’t looking. He wants to laugh into his lover’s mouth when they’re

caught and given an eye by his mother. He wants the annual ball to be his /sanctum/. Jungkook knows this. He has devout himself out of the ball ever since, until he knows he is taking the one he’ll be taking there forever. It means something to him. Jungkook knows this.

“Come on, let's talk this out nicely, Tae.” “Baby love mine, trust me, with how angry I’m starting to feel right now, this is the nicest I can make myself act.” he smiles again, maybe as an assuage to the mind that’s telling him to do everything but.

Jungkook is a step ahead, he climbs to the edge of the bed and snatches the sock that Taehyung’s only starting to put his foot in. “Great! Start to have an argument and watch The Taehyung pack his bags, ready to bolt!” “This isn’t an argument! I did not want to attend the ball,

someone offered to take me, I said no because I have a /boyfriend/ and my principles do not allow me to. What part is there to argue about!”

“The part of you wanting to attend the damn ball! The part where you can enjoy a night without having to constantly explain table manners to your partner. The part where you don’t have to dress down just to match the rented suit your boyfriend is wearing!

Part where you have one night with someone your kind!” Jungkook has left Taehyung speechess more times than he can count on his fingers and toes. Not an avid talker to begin with, Taehyung has had way too many instances where Jungkook has enthralled him into a bitten tongue

and clogged throat, when he would just stay quiet because the human translation to his heart’s mango-jango was nothing but iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou. Today, however, is not that. He is speechless because the tongue in his mouth is heavy with liquid venom that just influxed from

his ears. He doesn’t understand much. In the hindsight, his consious stilll reminds him of the over dramatised manioulation of simple words by his brain; but consious doesn’t mean shit, the brain gets what it wants.

“My– my kind?” Jungkook sighs as though he is fed up. And that has Taehyung’s veins pulsating beyond normal; not because Jungkook is thinking this way, but more because he seems like this isn’t the first time he’s thinking this way.

“Sorry, um, nevermind. I shouldn’t have— sorry, uh.. I don’t, sorry.” It’s a fine move, if you ask Taehyung. The aloofness of apologies whilst folding the bed sheet. Dismissive and nonchalant, par-excellently convincing twist of situation.

Except. Taehyung cant listen. He can only /see/. See the tremble of Jungkook’s fingers that hold edge in the fold of the sheet, see the eyes moving too hastily to catch anything in focus, see the nose twitch, see the buoyant regret.

Regret not of saying something he didn’t /mean/— but much to Taehyung’s horror— regret of accidentally saying something that wasn’t meant to be /said/.

“My kind?” He repeats. He feels a little lost. He had thought that if there were a ‘kind’ for anything, it would be Jungkook for him, his /kind/. Now here, sole beholder of his whole heart sidelines him like the crust of a cake, like something that doesn’t belong with him?

He feels so lost because when Taehyung knew what belonging means, he knew it by belonging with Jungkook. Belonging to Jungkook. Belonging for Jungkook.

“Taehyung—“ the moment Jungkook spares a glance to him, he abandons the sheet to futilely land on the bed, somewhere adjacent to Taehyung’s childish heart.

Taehyung wonders what he must look like right now. Does his face show the confusion he feels? Or does it choose to display the twinge of betrayal? Jungkook’s eyes go wide in the way they go when he sees the abandoned cat on the street, like someone needy,

someone who needs his help to feel connected to the bitter truths of life. Someone /not/ his kind. Oh, Taehyung thinks. His face must be showing the hurt then. When his face is cupped, it’s not as firmly territorial as Jungkook’s touch always is. It is tentative and queasy;

and Taehyung’s so struck with the aftershocks of “your kind” he wonders if all this time the firmness was only in his head. “I’m really /really/ sorry, love,” he whispers.

“Sorry.. because you don’t mean any of it…. Right?” Taehyung starts to cajole a smile on his lips again. He doesn’t wish to fight. Being your lover’s ‘kind’ is not something you fight for.

Taehyung inhales the next sigh, because it’s an answer. It’s /the/ answer.

He steps back, betrayed and hurt and with heart stinging suddenly. Being the one to claim an unsurpassable understanding with the one he claims to love, he feels hit with a trap of duplicity when he doesn’t understand where he failed.

Sad and angry and frustration. If only the world were fair, the lips would seal them automatically when the three gods of evil combined in our head just so— “Alright. I’ll go with Seojoon. To the place that’s sacred to me, I’ll go with him.”

He smiles then, it’s physically painful now, so he places a small kiss on Jungkook’s forehead. Draws back and smiles again. “I’ll never bother you again on this, okay?. I love you.”

He rushes his way out of the apartment, forbid his tongue starts listening to the instructions of his brain.

// Jungkook has never liked for himself something exemplary. As spacey as it may sound, he has always liked the word ‘average’. There’s just something so oddly calm about it.

When you’re averagely happy, you’re not stringing high on the doped clouds, jumping on fogged carpets; but also you’re not laying on the hard ground, wondering what the sky must feel like. You’re connected to the feeling of knowing sadness and that’s a satisfaction in itself.

Average in academics, average in achievements, average in finances and average in life. No hoola-hooping on eclectic expectations, no skewering on disappointments. Everything works best for the averages. And these are the people who don’t get brain aneurysms. So, win-win?

But life is a little shit that will give you the one thing you will never ask for. Cue the red-carpeted, cosmic-bursting head-turner– Kim Taehyung.

Hearing a description so for himself, Jungkook knows the eye-rolling dismissal that awaits right adjacent to the full-stop. But, oh, /Taehyung/. If only he knew.

To Jungkook, Taehyung is the one comet the Earth yearns for years to be hit by. So fiery in his mind and so gentle in his touch, Taehyung is the one most non-average creation of the Universe he has seen. And at first, the charms blinged him.

Not the charms of his iced watch; but the ones that took off the watch, instantly shoved the plastic gloves on and began to help him clean the dishes in his dorm. The one to have hallways in his house equivalent to district highways, would merrily twirl in Jungkook’s

matchbox-sized dorm (probably knock a vase off a table but bites his tongue so adorably that Jungkook couldn’t care less about the dumb ceramic). The one with a custom chauffeur-driven Rolls at his disposal gets a star-shaming glitter in his eyes the day Jungkook gifted

him a bus pass. A /bus/ pass!! When someone you thought to be nothing you ever wanted, turns out to be everything you never knew you wanted. What else do you do than fall? So Jungkook, matter of factly, did nothing but.. Fall. Helplessly At first it was fascinating, to say the

least. Taehyung and his unfamiliarities with things that are woven into Jungkook like veins, his bright-eyed curiosity over the most mundane things like table fans and /ramen/ and two-in-one conditioner&shampoo had Jungkook on a giggly stint. When days turned to weeks, and

weeks to months… the fun of it washed away. Every time he would see Taehyung awed over something he didn’t have the (mis)fortune of facing, Jungkook would only be reminded of the differences n their upbringing. The difference in their statuses.

“‘Be back in a minute. I’m gonna get myself something sweet from the mart downstairs. Anything you want?” Taehyung’s up on his feet the moment he settles beside him on the couch. He doesn’t even wait for Jungkook to reply before he’s escaping through the creaking front.

Jungkook sighs. If there’s anything he’s learned from his 2 yrs with Taehyung is that during the rifts and rafts, he likes to be near-but-far. He’d stick around, stay at Jugnkook’s, sometimes take a whole day off, sit at the café he works at… and still not talk a word to him.

As though, even if it is Jungkook who is the reason for his discomfort at the moment, he still primarily is where he seeks comfort from.

The difference in them as a human, hence, is low. Jungkook is guilty, Taehyung is angry. Both are hurting. Jungkook regrets saying what he did the previous morning. But. That only assures him why there are so many things he cannot word in front of Taehyung.

If the surface of the water got Taehyung this worked up, imagine if someday Jungkook opens up all his insecurities to him. He hears his chuckle echo in the empty apartment. At least he knows not to let that happen now. When Taehyung comes back, tossing his wallet on the table &

immediately readying to disperse the grocery to cabinets, Jungkook breathes in more guilt. There’s cereal Taehyung knew he’s run out of, bandaids to replenish in the first-aid box, a superglue for the cracked tile; nothing sweet that he originally ran out for. He sinks deeper

in despair when Taehyung leans against kitchen counter, idly scrolling through his phone; clearly avoiding confrontation. “How long are you not gonna talk to me?” he stands behind the counter, over Taehyung’s shoulder sees his thumb stop scrolling, yet no glance spared. “Babe.”

Taehyung pockets his phone and turns. Jungkook can’t help but deflate seeing the amount of hurt and hesitant ‘whys’ in his eyes. “There’s nothing to talk.” Taehyung crosses arms over his chest, horizontal crease above eyebrows when he raises them. “I know I’m overreacting but–”

Jungkook is dazzled He can never put his finger on what exactly takes his breathe away each time. Maybe the humble bows of personality despite being bow-worthy heir of gold, maybe the beauty in expression, maybe the respect. There's too many things for him to bring into the

possibility, so he always just says it's Taehyung himself. “Didn’t overreact, love. The ball’s so important to you. It was mean of me to just, out of nowhere, start insisting going with someone–” Taehyung’s brows relax and his mouth unhinges as though he just had a massive

realisation. “Are you jealous of Seojoon?” The utter ridiculousness of the way he asks has a laugh bubbling inside Jungkook. “What?” “Is that what this is about?” Placing hands flat on the counter, Taehyung leans questioningly. “You’ve never been fond of him ever and then all

this… there’s nothing going. You tell me if that’s the case. Say the word and I’ll–” “Stop, oh my god! Where’re you taking this?” flails hand in an accommodation of the grotesque implication. “I don’t like him, yes. But that’s ‘cause he isn’t particularly welcoming, as expected

of most people that rich! Doesn’t mean I’m thinking of you screwing behind my back!” Blood sears past his ears enough to not have his own voice echo in his head. “Then what? What made you think that we are any different from the couples who get to attend it? If you need time,

you know I’d wait YEARS! But you talk like it’s something off the table and the worst part is you never tell me WHY!” “I did tell you! I’m not fit for it! I don’t have blings in a chest to open and /transform/! Or– or a granting fairy to dress me up till midnight, okay!!”

“That’s the matter? /Money/?” Taehyung says the word with so much bite, it almost edges dismissal. Almost as if /money/ could not have been a field of difference. When it can be the biggest. When it can be the only.

“Taehyung,” his teeth grit against one another, in indignation and swallowed desperation. “Yes it is /money/” he mocks the tone.“Amongst other things!” He presses the balls of his palm to his eyes; takes a deep breath because Taehyung is not understanding but /looks/ like he can

spin planets in trying to. And that calls for some patience. “That place… I don’t feel fit in your area. It’s… it’s just not /me/. I’ve met your parents and they’re the loveliest people, but somehow still not /me/! I feel so out of place whenever I have opinions different than

theirs. Which, by the way, is most of the time!” “/I/ have opinions different than there’s too!” Taehyung sounds increasingly clueless, more when Jungkook’s trying his best with the clues. “You can’t possibly be making a fuss about their–”

“Yeah but does it feel like a constant rope around the neck that tugs one into a choke to you? Because it does to me.” he is panting in his speech as is Taehyung panting from the blow of harsh words. “I’m not the one making a fuss!! If anything, it’s you!” “Yeah—

Forgive me for flipping after finding out the fucking /love/ of my life, thinks I’m a whole ‘nother species, NOT his kind!? Oh silly me, overreacting!” Jungkook breathes orally. He isn’t mad. Or maybe if he wasn’t when he had planned a simple talking-out in his head.

Now, simplicity and calm vanished with a poof into thin air because.. Taehyung is so… ugh. “Y’know what, let’s just–” “Let’s just NOTHING!” When Taehyung’s voice raises, Jungkook’s hurt channels itself to the throbbing vein on his forehead, bc Taehyung NEVER raises his voice.

“This whole new part of you I’m discovering, the one who considered me yours. Talking like me, my surroundings suffocate you!” “Because they fucking do!!” he heaves venom, in eyes and tongue alike.

”Your stomach aches after our street-food run, your runny nose after a stargazing night, your consultations with a chiropractor after consecutive weeks of sleeping on my bed, your mom’s complaints of you missing too many family dinners!! If I start counting how many times I

hold my breath thinking that /this/ could be the final straw for you to realize how this isn’t the shit you deserve. That this was fun and games but just not worth it!” Bowing his head arrantly, Jungkook can do nothing but helplessly sough. “We aren’t the same, love.”

His eyes sting, feels his nose watering. A loud sniffle later– “Tigers don’t live in birdcages, Taehyungie.”

Abhorred silence stretches so long that Jungkook feels the tips of his fingers start to shiver with anxiety. His eyes have pooled and his shoulders ache like the weight of the world has been put on them. So he looks up, not expecting to be met with Taehyung’s back to him again.

Hunched and murky and Jungkook feels like the shitiest person for telling nothing but the truth. His heart feels heavy, but it races wildly. Especially when Taehyung straightens up and moves to his bedroom.

The marvel bearing red string that connects him and his lover now feels more like a noose tied taut around his neck. Tight so much, that not a single call escapes his throat. He sighs, breathing himself to feel the totality of his emotions, the hurt, and to wallow in the feeling

of overness; thereafter he lets his feet follow the steps his lover trailed Before he can, though, Taehyung is walking out of the room. Suddenly standing there with eyes to the floor, and face that looks excruciatingly pained. Jungkook feels like his lungs are set on fire.

Taehyung has a duffel bag slinged over his shoulder. And although the bag is not merely enough to fill the amount of himself that Taehyung has at Jungkook’s apartment, it’s enough of a signal because. Taehyung has never carried a bag out of the apartment, unless it is to bring

more stuff back. He does now. The tear leaves without Jungkook’s permit, he bites his lip and looks somewhere away and yet, it's as if his heart knew it before his eyes.

Taehyung stands in front of him, and adjusts the bag higher up the arm. And Jungkook sees his worst fear come to life as Taehyung rubs the arm of his sweater on his eyes, drying his tears, but breaks into an odious sob himself.

He wants to snatch away that bag, keep Taehyung hidden away in his arms forever. But he could’ve either been honest to Taehyung or honest to himself. He chose Taehyung. So he doesn’t stop the next tear that slides out the corner of his eye when they shut for the kiss that

is placed on his forehead. Taehyung smiles down at him. He pauses by the door and takes a good minute before letting out a cracked voice. “We are the same, baby. It hurts just as much.”

So i have two things in mind, but please choose

Bookmark tweet above so i dont lose the 3 people reading this curiouscat.me/sanpanman

Jungkook wouldn’t ever call himself someone who loves to sleep. He is an early riser no matter how late he pulled the previous night. Yet he doesn’t remember a night he hasn’t slept at all. Any one until now.

It’s been three days he last saw his lover walk out of his apartment. The longest they’ve remained without talking till date. And like a mercury scale on fire, the rise has been building and building enough to burst through the roof.

He glances at the clock again. 3:03am. The long hand is definitely mocking him with how slow it moves, because he is sure it was 3:01 like 40 minutes ago! The next drag of his glance is at his phone. Isn’t the screen light supposed to go off?

Why is it still actively flashing the unwritten text in Taehyung’s chatbox? Why is it still reminding him of the contact he has opened only about a thousand times and closed the same number without hitting the call button?

The apology is at the tip of his tongue. Just a drag of his teeth and it can spit out. Yet it sticks to his tastebuds and makes his mouth bitter. Because Taehyung did not deserve the uncalled-for attacks; more like he does not deserve a non-remorseful apology.

A sorry he wouldn’t mean. Would he say I didn’t mean it? Untruthfully, because he /did/ mean it. Would he apologize for taking things too far? Because he barely rippled the surface of water that has been collecting for the past two years.

Eyes wide and nose flaring, Taehyung had still talked logic 101; it’s infuriating as much as it is endearing. Jungkook doesn’t know after all this time, what to do with himself around him. He is so scared of losing the one good thing in his life for the one bad thing about it.

After about 90 minutes of lamenting, it’s at 3:06 that he accidentally (nope) presses the call button. He doesn’t know what he was thinking (he wasn’t), or what came over him (desperate loverlessness) but he hangs up immediately. His heart has lurched into his throat, each

vein pulsating from an adrenaline high as though he just sprinted with all his might. He stares at the homescreen with wide eyes. This is his boyfriend of two years, for crying out loud!! They’ve had only over a million phone calls by now, about a hundred arguments.

But something about this time feels a lot more… fragile. As though one wrong manouvour and the little nest they have built with all tenderness their hearts could weave, would tremble on the thin unkind branch.

He screws his eyes shut. This is all his fault. Was it worth this? Could he not sit through one night just to make his boyfriend happy? Did he really have to belittle his special something? Ugh, it’s been 3 hours why is it still 3:07?

He is only taking his final contemplation between /trying/ to sleep and recording a sad cover song when his heart almost stops when his phone blares. Taehyung is calling him back.

He wishes he could explain why his first instinct is to throw off his blanket and stand up on the bed. But he does and stares down at the phone that rings two more times before the call ends. Shit, no. He should’ve picked up! Whatever rotten thoughts Taehyung must’ve been

having about them would stale worse now, is all he can think. However any further before he drags himself into the self-detest pit, the phone rings again. He answers on the first ring, but doesn’t bring the phone to his ear for a good 5 seconds.

Only taking his odd time to stare at the connected call. As far as he can tell in his eerily silent room, there’s nothing said on the other line too. After a skittish internal battle, he finally puts the device to his ear. Nothing except Taehyung’s soft inhales echo.

“Tae, I’m so-” “Seojoon hyung took me for suit selection today.” Jungkook lies down. He feels the entire day of heedless toil and almost the entire night of sleeplessness suddenly crash on his body with full force. So much so, that holding his head up feels like a hefty task.

“Oh?” is all he can say. “Green. He said I– I look the best in green because it is my favorite color.” When he lays sideways, he feels a moist droplet come and rest on the corner of his right eye just beside the nose slope. “Green looks great on you.”

Voice curtailing into a whisper, Jungkook presses the phone between his cheek and the pillow. He inhales the faint sigh that Taehyung lets out. “Does it?” “Yeah.” When he smiles, the resting tear slopes down the bridge of his nose. “Still isn’t your favorite color, though.”

Taehyung laughs, it’s intermittent to a small sniffle. “I have no idea where he got that idea from. But I went along with it.” He chuckles at that. “Maybe it was your thrice a week green sweater- brown pants Fern-tree look that hit him.”

“Hey! My mom says I look very chic in that.” “She’s your mother. It’s her government-assigned duty to say that. Ask the expert.” “Who? Hoodie hoarder?” In spurious offense, he gasps. Turning to the other side, the colder part of the pillow shafts a tiny smile on him.

His eyes gloss over. “You’re so crude, I don't understand why I love you!” Taehyung stays silent for a moment enough for Jungkook to crane his neck and check if the phone got disconnected. “But you do, right?”

“Of course!” He doesn’t take a millisecond to ponder. The only clarity he holds in this befuddling moment. “I love you so much that-” he feels the bedding beneath his temple soaking “T-that I wanna say sorry.” “Then why didn’t you?” “Because I can’t think of what for?”

Gentle ruffling on the other side, Jungkook sniffles waiting for Taehyung’s voice of calm to soothe him over. Drags his palm on his nose, harsh enough to twist it upwards. “Can I tell you what I would like an apology for?” “Yes p-please.”

“For keeping me blindsided for this long and dumping it all on me at once.” The gulp on the other line is audible and Jungkook feels his heart crack all over again. “In my– in my head, I was doing so well… too well. In my head, I was cavalier, y’know? So sure of myself that I

would claim that I could breakthrough at this if this was a profession.” At the sound of his next sniffle, Jungkook can’t help the guttural sob that builds in his throat. “Be-because you.. I /know/ you love me. You’ve made sure that I feel it and excelled it so well that

not one night, not even the ones with us having our backs to each other, have I gone to sleep feeling deficient of love.” “But neither have–” “Don’t you dare say you haven’t. Because the things you said... Made so many things have a clearer vision to me.”

Jungkook shakes his head. Nose clogs from silent tears & sharp respirations is all his mouth can do. How does he explain the unreliability if his spontaneity m, how his words aren’t as blunt as his intentions. How does he tell Taehyung that he is the embodiment of all /love/.

There’s love stored in his lips every time he kisses softly, there’s love stored in his cheeks that bloat from fondly stuffing them with Jungkook’s recipes, and there’s love in his waves at Jungkook from the end of a crowded hallway like he’s the only person he can see.

“I let people think whatever they want to of me.” It’s at this small voice that Jungkook realizes the long span of silence between them. “Favorite color, habits, perceptions. The world can think whatever they want. But that does not apply to /you/.” Jungkook lets his head fall

to the bed when he drags down the pillow to hug it close to his body, buries his face into it, and cushions the sound of his feeble sob. “After the street food runs, I overact my dull stomach ache because I have never had someone take care of me like you do. No one has ever

scolded me for getting sick, force-fed me medicine, and then angrily cuddled me.” A chuckle breaks through with tears into the pillow. “You saw stargazing as an inconvenience to me. Little knowing yourself that those dates are special to me because those are the only nights I

have you doing it /with/ me. In my dramatic head, even on a moonless night, /you/ are my brightest star. Whenever I look at you, I’m always stargazing.” “Oh, Tae–” “You think my parents would be happy knowing that I'm attending the lavish family dinners with a sour heart over

skipping them and contently eating my comfort foods?” He hums in question. “You think I might enjoy a flute of champagne more, even if it is the warm milk I’m craving at that hour?”

“I find my place in between your arms, in between your tender kisses and soft whispers of bad insults, in between the warm of your cuddle, the scent of your washed hair, and the desperation of your touches, I find my place lost within /you/. All while you’re in my arms thinking

how uncomfortable I am on your /mattress/.” Jungkook lets his cry be heard. If anything to take his lover’s pain was possible, he would. “D-don’t cry, my baby. I don’t blame you for not understanding. I blame myself for not making you understand better.” “It’s not your–”

“It’s not my fault either, though.” Jungkook nods into the pillow. “Because these 3 days away from you, this is all I thought of. How I can transform myself to let you know what you mean to me.” Jungkook’s breath hitches. The last thing he’d want is to have Taehyung change a

single strand on his scalp in the name of their love. “But—— you said you can’t sleep in my room, and I never made you enter that place again. You didn’t want to commute by the effusive car, we take the bus. You don’t like food of the high-end restaurants, we never step in one.”

But that’s the problem exactly! Jungkook would say had he not been suffocated with his own tears of plea. “I can’t do anything anymore to have you believe that I’m in this for the long run.” “You’re… We – we will be fine, right?” With how chockful he feels, Jungkook is

surprised to have put a sentence across. He heaves and buries the face back into the wet pillow. For every second that Taehyung doesn't reply, Jungkook thinks his heart shrinks smaller. “Tae?”

“I’m so fucking mad at you right now.” Taehyng says, “But it’s frustrating that the copious amounts of anger that I am filled with, I still have the feeling of love for you more than that. You have me enamored, baby.” He chuckles and Jungkook knows of the tearful gimmick.

“So if your question is about me breaking up with you, I literally don’t have the /power/ to do that. But tomorrow, after I walk into the hall with hands around a person, I don’t know how much I will respect this powerlessness anymore.”

He knows there’s a migraine coming for the whole day when the blaring doorbell gives him a projectile throw off the bed. Eyes wide, he glances from the floor at the clock on his bedside cabinet. His yawn halts midway into a gasp.

1 pm?! Did he sleep through the entire MORNING? Amidst the mutilating jeopardy of his noose-hanging relationship, he goes on to sleep the longest he ever has? Is he the best boyfriend ever or what?

And as though in an austere reminder, the doorbell goes off again. He runs to attend it. Smashes his little toe into the foot of the bed and lets out a screech. The day could not have started on a wronger note.

Limping with what is left of his spirit, he reaches and pulls open the door while bending to press his throbbing toe in hand. “Oh dear, are you alright?” His eyes go bug-wide at the sound. He takes one big moment to keep staring down at the floor, toe still in his hand,

then after a big gulp of nerves he finally looks up. “Miss- miss-miss- Mrs. Kim… Hel- hello- Hello welc- welcome!” The faux enthusiastic clap was so unnecessary. “When- when– I didn’t know- haha – you’re coming ov- over!” “Well my dear, I wished to talk to you–” Taehyung’s

mother walks inside and Jungkook limps in a trail behind her. “ –And I was dying to see the house that my boy has moved into.” Tae didn’t move in with me… yet.” “Oh, please. The bedding in his room would be in cobwebs had there been no cleaners in our house.” Circumfrencing

the house in one glance, she turns back to look at Jungkook. An all too familiar sparkle inundates the eyes. “Your laundry basket is filled with his flashy boxers. I think that pretty much seals the deal.” Jungkook’s cheeks flush. He bows his head, makes a beeline to the kitchen

when she settles on the couch. With trembling hands, he pours a glass of water, simultaneously recounting all the things that shouldn’t be in the living room for her to see. “Water.” Adding unnecessarily, he scoots to the far edge of the chair fronting the couch. He watches

Taehyung’s mother take an elegant sip of it before placing the glass on the table. She clears her throat and Jungkook’s pulse quickens. “I can see why he loves your house so much.” She looks around as though there’s anything worth a second glance “Little plants on the balcony–”

“It was his idea.” “Oh I /know/. He bought these little pots from an old lady in Jeju. He wanted to put them in our house but our interior designer was not in favor of it. Something about theme and colors.” Jungkook wrinkles his nose at that.

He couldn’t possibly imagine an outsider telling him what his house should look like; what could or could not be added. Frowning, he zooms into the intricate embroidery at the base of her cuffs hanging below her wrists. She smiles and sits up straight, her legs together

inclining to one side and hands elegantly resting on her knees, Jungkook can only imagine the grace that Taeyhung is privy of. It makes him all fuzzy. “My father used to work at a farm.” She says out of nowhere. It takes good 10 seconds for Jungkook to register what she said.

“What— really?” “Mhm! You wouldn’t believe—” her hands clasp to her chest blithely. “One day I’m reading a book on the farm, waiting for my father to be done with work when this tall, skinny, nervous /mess/ of a boy walks up to me and stutters god knows what.” “Mr. Kim?”

Her eyes shine brighter at his indulgence. She scoots ahead as if making Jungkook her confidant. “Taehyung today is a spitting image of what his father looked like at that time. Except for the obsession with hideous suspenders and the berets.” She pauses and Jungkook giggles,

already knowing the successor of that statement. “Oh wait... Those are still there.” Jungkook cannot help but think back to the fussy lad from 2 years ago who had his head bowed adorably when he was giving him a piece of his mind for knocking out his phone. “So he manages to

ask if I like /fairs/. Let me tell you, back in our day, “trade fairs” were the standard dating venue for the young.” She takes another sip of the water, chuckling then. “I dressed up like Madonna’s /garage sale/ for that evening. But would you take a far guess what happened?”

Jungkook shakes his head but is immensely intrigued. The heavy boulder of gloom in his head seems lighter now than it was five minutes ago. He feels his heart puddle down at the motherly inviolability she caries in the lapels of her overcoat. “I walk out of my house at four

noon sharp, just like I was asked to but suddenly there’s a stout man offering me that– that y’know the stretchy candy– oh you wouldn’t know – I can’t recall its name– ugh.” She snaps her fingers and gazes far in a frustrated thought. “Taffy?” “Taffy!!

Yes! So yeah this stall I know that vividly wasn’t outside my house is there. But I don’t question more because, y’know, I have a fair to reach.” Her demeanor is still as poised, but the way she now moves her hands around in an excited charade has Jungkook easing more and more.

He grabs the tiny jar of nuts on the center table and comes to sit at the end of the same couch. “I just about turn the corner of my alley and what do I see?” Jungkook cups his mouth with dramatically wide eyes. “Oh no, please don’t tell me it is what I’m thinking.”

“Well, it is, if what you’re thinking is the ultimate /ludicrousy/. Right in front of me, ON my street, is a giant /Ferris wheel/ and then an ornament vendor gawking at me, and then a pretzel stand–” “Oh no no no” “This droll of a man didn’t bring me to the fair–”

“He BOUGHT you a whole fair!!” She bows her head and nods shamefully. Jungkook scoots closer, facepalming. “Oh my GOD! I would’ve DIED!” “Well son, what you’re seeing of me right here, is indeed a rebirth.” In the laugh that follows, a warmth blooms in the center of his chest

heating the cold shards impinging his heart. He feels at ease, as simply as he could put. “Taehyung offered our first date to be in Paris.” “No surprise there.” she takes an almond and elegantly bites into half of it.

After a gentle glance at him, she places a hand on Jungkook’s knee and nods genially. “Now. You tell me what’s wrong?”

~~

There's a petulant voice inside Taehyung's head that wants to stop him, telling him that he is being hasty in the blinding hurt of his ego. He should listen to it. Instead, he nods at the flower brooch his butler offers to pin to the pocket of his tux. "There you go.

I cannot believe the years of you talking about this evening finally has an end to the anticipation.” He gives him a sunny smile and goes about telling the stylists about the last-minute changes in the arrival memo. Taehyung looks into the mirror again.

Slicked back hair groomed neatly away from the forehead that he usually lets them bunch on, in his ear gleams the Chanel earrings his father had got him in compensation for being at work on his birthday some year. Suited and bowed in black, he wonders what grade of pathetic he

is for choosing Jungkook’s favorite color for a ball that he was rejected to accompany. He feels himself welling up. But crying in this scenario will be stupid. Tears can't mend his sadness if he still has his arms around someone else by the end of tonight.

They can't fill in the empty spots. He can't sob himself happy and then go about the evening chirping twinkle toes to the piano. “Master Taehyung.” He hears Yuna, the maid, enter. Always having a soft spot for Jungkook, amongst the rabble of people buzzing around him, she is

the only one with a somber look on her. Taehyung insides burn wondering if she thinks it’s him who dropped Jungkook for someone else as his partner at the ball. “Master Park is here to receive you. Shall I set a table?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. We’ll leave immediately.” Stepping down the stairs he watches Seojoon’s butler brushing off his collar and straightening the lobe of his suit. “You look good.” He adds dutifully. Because sometimes, all that's left to do is to jump into the hole

you've dug and let yourself drown in the flood you've caused. It's all overflowing, but it could be nice to let go, who knows?

//Tigers don’t live in birdcages.// rings in his ears over and over. He has over a thousand arguments to that claim but the loudest of it is how it’s better to live in a birdcage happily than going around in the open with the hands cuffed in the back. Jungkook handcuffed him.

“Just good?” Seojoon politely dismisses his butler, throwing a bemused wink his way. “Well, definitely not better than me.” He says and offers his arm for Seojoon to lock his to. “Let’s get going. I heard there’s oysters.” “Ahan?” he takes the offered arm.

They start to head out with their butters escorting them. “You like oysters?” “Oh, I hate them.” He hears a chuckle. ‘But not more than this’— he doesn’t say.

Straight out of a dream. This is all Taehyung can relate it to when he sees the giant glass chandelier the first thing entering the grandeur hall. With arms locked into Seojoon’s, he glances at the champagne fountain taking the center of the foyer by the entrance.

He cannot help at the tug of his lips thinking the way Jungkook would have ridiculed the idea of it. And then right after is the reminder of the fact that… he did. He ridiculed the idea of this all so vehemently that he’d rather break Taehyung’s heart than be here.

His lips instantly downturn. He thinks of the numerous text messages from Jungkook on his phone he is yet to see. A first. All he’s ever known of himself is to bend severe limbos the second of first ‘ting’ from a text from Jungkook. Today he doesn’t, surprising himself.

For someone whose penchant for visual fixation wholly manifests when it comes to intimacy, it’s the first time ever he remembers himself not wanting to see Jungkook. First time in forever his heart isn’t combusting in anticipation to have Jungkook’s cold nose tingling a line in

his warm neck. Rather him getting antsy the next time he has to see him. That’s strange love, isn’t it? It’s wrong. Because if it was him, and it has /been/ him many many /many/ times, standing on the crossroads of making Jungkook happy and making himself uneasy, he would

always choose the former. Without one half of the thought of anything otherwise. He isn’t that messed up to want Jungkook going to extremes of unease for him. But he is human. Humans are selfish and the only time they’re not is by making it about themselves. So how hard could

it have been to /consider/ something for once about Taehyung? Jungkook loves him. Oh, he loves him like a bird does its wings. But if Taehyung is troubled in his glitters and Jungkook is laughing in his rugs, who exactly is the winner here?

That’s strange love, isn’t it? It’s not wrong, no. Just not like Taehyug’s.

“Fourth time of me being here. Twice with Sohi, once Aiden last year but with you is the first time I don’t have my dance practiced. With how primed you are always, your idea to just wing it is making me nervous.”

Taehyung can promise he’s trying to smile politely. But it seems like an effort with his forehead perspiring even in the air-con infused hall. One abeyant thought is to fuck it. He thinks of running away to Jungkook’s apartment and mending things right.

He also thinks of running away too far for Jungkook to find him for many days. Is this how gravely a simple conflict of interests supposed to perturb him? He dabs the sleeve of his tux on his forehead. He stares at the tiny damp spot darkened from that.

“But.. It’s exciting.” Seojoon rushes to defend when he gains no reaction. Taehyung feels guiltier, knowing firsthand the longing for redamancy. Perhaps in a sense much different, he knows the lack of redamancy and it’s not a nice feeling.

The waiter comes with a polite smile and bubbling flutes of champagne and Taehyung feels ambushed. He unties the bow-tie and shoves it into the pocket of his blazer away from the eyes that don’t find him.

There’s an unsettlement in his gut that has his toes curling inside his shoes. He feels his palms clammy when he closes his fist. “Hey, Tae?” Seojoon gently wraps a hand on his arm. “Do you feel okay?”

Unbuttoning the collar of his shirt, he pats the hand on his arm. “I am, I am.” He smiles, “You don’t want your date to bore you, I’m sorry.” “You’re my friend before anything.” He frowns. The first crease on his proper persona for the evening. “If you feel strange, we deal with

that prior to some dance evening.” “It’s much more than a dance evening. Much, much more.” It’s bizarre how defensive he gets suddenly. “At least to me, it is.” Like a projection of the unsaid onto someone who doesn’t need to hear.

“Hey, I know, I’m just sayin’.” He raises his hands. “I know you like this place.” “That’s the /thing/, hyung. I /like/ visiting art museums. You /like/ boating.” He takes a swerving step back.

“This.. is more. This is some place I have considered a milestone in my life. Coming here has to be a breakthrough fulfillment to me rather than standing here on the edge of anxiety. This feels like.. like.. like I’m invalidated.” “Whoa, whoa!”

Seojoon looks around, before tugging at Taehyung’s wrist. Beckoning him out of the hall, he keeps concerned glances constantly. He maneuvers Taehyung against the pillar and steps back in a leeway to let him breathe. And he tries. Unsuccessfully so.

“Okay something is very wrong. Are you and Jungkook fighting?” Seojoon pauses in an oblong realization before his eyes widen. “Oh god, did I cause it? I did, didn’t I?” “No, no, no. You didn’t.” He sighs and rubs his face.

“Actually, you did. But not how you’re thinking. There was no fight. Just an.. unfortunate interface of our differences.” “First, you breathe.”

Taehyung chuckles bitterly and undos the first lower button. “I’ve been trying. Two days now, I think there’s some permanent rocking terrain in my lungs now.” Seojoon fleetingly seems to juggle his thoughts before he extends a hand towards him. “I say we take you to the roof.”

“No, no. I’m fine, jeez. I’m being so dramatic.” “Absolutely not. Come on, I think you could use a little time away.” Taehyung shakes his head, palms moving equally in denial. “Let’s go back inside. I feel better.” Why does he pant? “Shut up and take my hand.” Seojoon snaps.

Taehyung feels a spike of unbidden doubt at that. Seojoon looks impatient and testy. “What?” “Just..” still edgy, he locks his jaw into a smile. “Let’s go to the roof. I think I need a breather too.”

When they’re on the lift, the silence is insolent ‘part from the handful of awkward smiles. The sigh at the ding of the elevator’s last floor is mutual as they both step out and face the door to the terrace, too exquisite for it to be just an exit to the sky.

“Kim Taehyung.” Right before they open the door, Seojoon turns to him robotically. “You are the precious most jewel in the building.” Taehyung visibly cringes. His nose scrunches and he narrows his eyes.

“No, let me finish.” He gulps. “You are the precious most jewel in the building. But tonight, I’m just the ring bearer.” “What?” The door unlocks. Taehyung’s jaw is floored.

When he steps inside, he sees his mother smiling with head resting on his father’s shoulder who gloats equally. Fairy lights gruffly hang down the randomly stretched ropes over the expanse of the roof from left to right.

There are three tables decorated simply with a white cloth and daisy flower pots on top. Replacing the vast chandelier, flickering halogen lights are tied untidily to the centre post. Everything is so cinchly simple, humbling, it makes Taehyung’s heart beat erratically.

Everything so.. “Hey, you.” A whisper besides him has him flinching back before he turns. And looks. A hand flies to cup his mouth in awe. He can nothing but stare “J-jungkook.” “It is I, thy baby; your’s truly.”

Interactions are inspiring. Please do it with everyone who’s content you like. curiouscat.me/sanpanman

Whose* What is with me being the official ambassador of typo land?

“Taehyung!” Jungkook whispers in the older’s ear with eyes customly roaming the handful of people accompanying them on the terrace. “ I’m wearing Versace!” he whisper-yells.

A flash of the polaroid goes off when they’re only gazing, metaphorically counting the stars in each other’s eyes. The girl, who Jungkook has now come to know as Sohi, clicks another picture when he looks ahead.

“Look, look, lookkkk..” Her heels click in a rhythm when she jogs to them. “You both are so cute!! What the hell!” Jungkook chuckles at the fact that she hasn’t even seen the picture yet, given that she’s still fanning the polaroid. “No seriously, me when?”

Taehyung takes the picture and Jungkook necks ahead to peep; can’t stop his cheeks from warming up. With a gaze softer than it’s ever been, Taehyung has his eyes set on him as he himself looks into the camera. Only like you see in the movies.

But what has him surprised beyond expression is his own face. The glimmering smile so far deviant from the lava of anxiety that pools in his gut, he hasn't smiled that fulgently ever in the vicinity of anyone else… except Taehyung’s.

Never has felt floaty but /grounded/ at the same time, except in times when he catches Taehyung absentmindedly stealing glances of him. Never feels special for his eccentricities except on the nights he has Taehyung doubling in a belly laugh at something stupid he did.

Never feels like there’s anything common between them other than the gentle admiration they hold for each other. The love is common. The willingness to wring every drop of that love for each other is common and equally fierce.

Then why does it matter that they weren’t made for each other? It’s just a load of crap anyway. Nobody is made for nobody, but rather you make yourself for somebody.

You carve yourself enough to fit into a crevice that they carve out of themselves, you become half and half. And Jungkook can do this, especially when his eyes softly match with those of Ms. Kim, nodding at him like he did this right. Yeah, he did this right.

The theatrical manner that he had prepared to ask Taehyung to the floor center stubs at the dorsum of his tongue the moment he turns to him. Taehyung stands there with eyes pooling with tears, expression soft but so replete with something Jungkook can’t tell.

“I love you.” Taehyung whispers. Each word is enunciated so explicitly, that Jungkook feels an impact of it straight to his chest. He could never count, if tried, how many times they’ve exchanged this, but today at this moment the

three words leave wind knocked out of him; leaving him breathless and shallowly panting. And boy does he know it’s true, every flash of the tiny things that Taehyung says ‘i love you’ in leaves him punch-drunk and weak-kneed.

Taehyung loves him in his tiny post-its on the fridge for Jungkook, reminding him to eat the food he left in the fridge before leaving for work while the other was showering. Taehyung loves him in the eight-hour wait for Jungkook to come home just so they can watch the telecast

of his favorite show’s cliffhanger together. Taehyung loves him in the random texts where he has nothing to say but still wants to stay in contact. Taehyung loves him in the single flower he wordlessly replaces everyday in the glass on the center of his table.

Taehyung loves him in the instant maneuver in his own life just for Jungkook’s comfort. “I know.” Oh, he knows clear. “And I love you.”

He only knows his palms were sweaty when Taehyung’s cold ones interlock into his. “Am I going to have my dance now?” Voice feeble and cracking, Taehyung asks, taking Jungkook’s left hand to his lips thereafter. “We are.” Pulling the pre-locked hand to the middle, he tries to

overlook all the eyes that follow him. “Did I tell you I’m wearing Versace!” Taehyung’s gasp is dramatic; unfitting to the eyes that are still misty and the nose that is tipped red. “No, you didn’t! Wait, what’re you wearing today?”

“Versace!” he whisper-yells again. On the gentle tune of the piano, Taehyung guides them to sway in lateral directions slowly. “Your mother insisted on buying it but I only agreed for an overnight renting. Did you know it costs more than the rent of our apartment?”

The sheen over Taehyung’s eyes becomes glossier “/Our/ apartment, huh?” “I mean not anymore.” He squints his eyes playfully, and sniffles then. “Since you packed the duffle bag and all.” He takes a twirl elevating his hand over his head.

Taehyung’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he bows his head. “I only put my charger and another first thing I could grab into the bag.” “Well, you took /my/ charger and the bedside alarm Mr. Kim I-will-be-dramatic-and-scare-the-shit-outta-my-boyfriend Taehyung.”

Taehyung lowers him into his arms and places a kiss on the apple of his throat. He watches Taehyung have a somewhat serendipitous reaction between being sheepish and smug, then watches him sniffle; having an entire concoction of expressions before he settles for nothing but

softly pulling Jungkook’s waist until they hug and rest his chin over the shoulder. It’s then that Jungkook notices how everyone around them has either grabbed their partners for a dance or busied themselves with food and conversations.

His nerves are immediately assuaged not being the puller of eyes anymore. “I scared myself too a li’l not gonna lie.” He only now realizes how bad he’s missed Taehyung’s giggles. “I’m living my dream right now!.” God, he almost jeopardized the most precious thing in his life.

“I know what I am sorry about.” With smile dimming a tad, he nudges their noses together. “I’m sorry for not sharing my insecurities the moment they started to develop and I’m even more sorry for dumping them all on you out of the blue at once” His eyes close involuntarily when

Taehyung places a fleeting kiss on his cheek. “You didn’t deserve that.” “Come on now, it takes two to tang– I mean ball-dance” “No, I mean it! You deserve all things best. You deserve this.. This ball dance and shiny suits.

You deserve the huge mansion but you also deserve the last cookie in our small house. You deserve–” “Extremely cute boyfriend in rented Versace tux?” “Extremely cute boyfriend in rented Versace tux. Absolutely! Oh god. Don’t hold me so tight, you’ll crease my Ver. Saa. Chi”

Taehyung tightens his hold and takes a swirl on the rising tempo “Remember on my birthday you got me strawberry jam hand-made by your mother?” Jungkook nods biting his lip at how lame that sounds.

“I had dinner plans for us at this high-end gourmet restaurant and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.” “What, why?”

“/Because/.” He exasperates. “Everything you do is so authentic and personal and heartfelt and painstakingly /beautiful/. While there I am with a stupid rolex in my pocket smiling at a sweater you knit for me, for a whole MONTH, acting like I forgot our anniversary!”

“Wha- I could’ve used the Rolex with my Versace!” Jungkook can’t help but chuckle, lowers his head to Taehyung’s shoulder and lets the other sway them to the tune in his embrace. “We’re so stupid.”

“Let’s never hide anything from each other, not even in the name of gatekeeping each other’s feelings. This was.. ‘s too much.. Too much!” “We won’t!”

Jungkook places a kiss on cheek, then one on the jaw, then one the column of his neck before he rests his face there. “You know what did Winston Churchill say?” “Ughh” Taehyung groans, outraged. Lets go of him and cinematically acts as though he’ll walk away.

Bursting in giggles, Jungkook coils his arms around him tighter. Laughing into Tae’s chest, he pulls his best whine. “Askkk.” Taehyung rolls eyes with a fond smile. “What did Winston Churchill say, Jungkook-ssi?” “Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”

“You are so annoying!” Taehyung lurches forward to his mouth, vulgarly darting his tongue into it. His hand find the bottom Taehyung’s well groomed hair on his nape as he returns the kiss just as passionately, taking penchant in his lover’s touch even in room full of people.

“Not that I am not cherishing my son and his lover going at it~” a voice jerks them out of the shameless bravery, they find Mr. Kim with smiling awkwardly. “We are all going to head downstairs, socialize a little. Do I expect to see you there?”

“Sure–” “No, dad. I think we’re gonna head /home/” hands still clutching around his waist for dear life, Taehyung softly rests his forehead against his. “I have a charger to return.” “Okay, whatever you lovebirds want.”

He bites his lip to hide the grin that threatens to spill when he feels Taehyung turn his hand over for a better grip. Jungkook’s heart feels as if it almost sighs in relief, the reassurance providing more than enough from the other.

“I wanna love you for the rest of my life.” Jungkook places a small kiss on his nose. “I am sorry it had to be realised this way.” Taehyung’s kiss on his mouth is soft and airy. Jungkook knows if there is anything worldly that’s imperative for his heart to function, it is this.

“We’ll just let things take their course and never be sorry.” Another nod and another peck, he lets Taehyung happily sigh into his mouth. “Tigers don’t live in birdcages, true. But some have their hearts set on bunny houses and you cannot change their minds, okay?”

“Okay.” He whispers back. God, Jungkook loves this man so much.

Taaadaaaahhhh we’re doneee! I’ll be uploading both the parts as one fic on ao3 shortly!! Till then pleeeease interact with me

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