Archive of Our Own

17 hours until landing

“They just said things at the gate are chaotic.” The rushed whispers make Jungkook snap his head towards the flight attendant. He smooths a hand over  his pristine baby blue uniform as he looks over his shoulder in secrecy as if he wasn’t standing right behind the last row of seats and says, “That’s why Mr. Kim hasn’t boarded yet.”

Jungkook sinks into his seat to avoid being noticed when a huff escapes his lips. Well, of course the flight would be delayed because someone who thinks the world revolves around them is holding a fucking airplane on the ground.

“I hate A list passengers,” the other flight attendant whispers back, his monotone voice naturally slow denouncing he is more annoyed than stressed. “They don’t care if a whole flight is waiting for them, I’m not paid for this,” he groans.  

Finally someone with good sense! The urge to look over his seat again just to agree with the man is strong, but it wouldn’t be polite of him to give away that he's been eavesdropping on their conversation. 

“Well, our job is to pretend we are.” The first flight attendant snorts.

Jungkook grunts alongside the other worker, the one he already considers his ally.

He runs a hand over his hair, already annoyed by the incessant hum of the air conditioning blasting over his head. At least if it were the sound of the engine kicking off. But no, Jungkook has to be stuck in this gray, suffocating plane that refuses to move for what now? 

Impatiently, he checks the time on his phone. Twenty minutes is not that late, but it’s late enough.

Whoever this Mr. Kim is, he can go fuck himself. 

Jungkook’s hands fidget with his phone, his knees already sore from sitting down. He stands up in a jolt, not really that interested in what’s in the overhead compartment, but he’s suddenly hopeful that he might find something to keep him entertained even though he knows there are only reports and toiletries in his hand luggage. 

His eyes wander around the plane before his hands can reach the stack of papers. 

The first class of a Korean Air flight is small, the space reserved only for the selected few who can afford to pay exorbitant amounts of money to use glass cups and actually stretch their legs during an overnight flight. 

The blue seats are occupied by people who look as expensive as the tickets. The luxury brand on their clothes and their perfectly styled hairs are evidence enough of that, never mind that they’ll all get out of this plane wrinkled and disheveled. 

Looking down at himself, Jungkook can’t judge them. He cannot be distinguished from any of the other businessmen wearing perfectly pressed white button-downs that cost more than a monthly rent. The only difference is that he isn’t accompanied by a posh wife or a scrawny assistant. 

Tonight, there are no A-list celebrities, no football players, or influencers. Not that Jungkook would recognize any of them by their names, but they tend to stand out with their bleached hair and extravagant fits. Very different from the perfectly polished business people who occupy the seats by his side.

All the seats.

A deep frown descends on his face when he double-checks the room just to confirm all of the spots are already taken.

All of them besides the vacant one beside him. 

Fucking great.

It’s useless to cling to hope in times like these. A plane is never a very hopeful place in general. He knows the seat is probably taken. It always is. Yet, he can’t help the smidge of hope that grows inside his chest, convincing him that it will stay vacant. 

It’s unrealistic. So, alongside staying positive, Jungkook starts praying that whatever chaos is happening at the gate raises hell enough so this Mr. Kim doesn’t board ever.

But as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he realizes that would only increase the delay of the flight. 

Apparently, there’s no winning tonight. With a tired sigh, he slams the compartment shut and slumps back in his seat.

Empty hands call for mindlessly scrolling on his phone, a habit he developed in the past two years. He’s not proud of it, but it’s not like there’s any other use for them in his free time. 

He checks his work inbox first to convince himself that’s what he’s actually interested in. The incessant tapping of his heel against the carpet only stops when he notices there’s no new message and he can move to what truly ignites his curiosity.

The gossip page is already saved on his browser, the algorithm knows what he needs even before he finishes typing the URL. It’s been two years, but he refuses to get the portal’s app. He’s not that addicted to checking celebrities' news. 

At least that’s what he tells himself every day.

He tries to ignore the prickling sensation on his scalp when the name he’s always looking for jumps on the screen on the first headline and clicks on it without even reading what it says first.

The poor connection inside the plane doesn’t help his restlessness. His stomach tightens as he waits for the page to load, the gray circle slowly going round and round on the screen.

The voices and rushed steps by his side go unnoticed, his eyes too focused on waiting for the screen to finally pop up with what he wants to know to pay attention to his surroundings. 

It’s not like he’s interested in eavesdropping anymore. At this point, he might wait forever on this flight for the entitled passenger to board. Who does this person think they are anyway?

“Here’s your seat, Mr. Kim.” 

“Thank you so much, and I’m sorry about the inconvenience. ”

Jungkook’s hand tightens around the phone when a familiar voice pulls him out of his trance. He bats his lashes way too slowly, the cortisol spike from waiting for the page to load must have messed up his brain. 

The first thing Jungkook sees when he looks down to his side is the tip of shiny, leather boots. They’re followed by the longest legs Jungkook’s ever seen. His heart stops mid-beat, the hollowness in his stomach growing a thousand times bigger. Those legs, they’re way too familiar, even though they're hidden under wide, black pants. 

As he rakes his eyes up, Jungkook tries to convince himself stress can cause hallucinations. Except the leopard print shirt seems familiar as well. This time, Jungkook knows it’s just a coincidence. The shirt is probably part of a new collection that hasn’t reached the stores yet. But the fact that he knows that isn’t a coincidence at all. 

What's undoubtedly familiar are the almond eyes staring back at him, filled with surprise.

“ Oh!” Slowly, the shock morphs into something mirthful when the man lowers his sharp gaze to the phone in Jungkook’s hand. “Uh— Hello.”

Jungkook snaps his neck down at the screen, the sour taste of panic reaching his tongue when he sees the page fully loaded, displaying in big letters the headlines he’s been waiting so anxiously to read.

Actor Kim Taehyung's departure to New York City causes chaos at Incheon Airport this Thursday night.

His fingers tighten around the phone and he clutches it against his chest quickly as if it isn’t too late to hide the screen.

There’s a scoff that Jungkook barely registers, followed by an eye-roll that his gaze captures in a blur as the man takes his place on the seat by his side, completely unconcerned about the dread that takes over the air around them.

Even with the partition between the seats, the proximity is too much to allow him to breathe. 

His palm starts sweating and he looks around nervously to see if there’s any way of getting out of the plane. He’s sure he can come up with an excuse and catch the next flight. His team would be annoyed, and he would probably miss the opening speech at the conference, but some sacrifices have to be made in the name of sanity. 

The plane moves at the same time Jungkook reaches for the button to call the flight attendant. He looks out the small windows on the far end of the plane just to clarify for himself that it’s actually moving, and not panic making him imagine things.

Unfortunately, the confirmation comes too easily. 

The runaway moves outside, the lights of the airport growing distant. The annoying noise of the air conditioning is now muffled by the loud, unbearable blast of the engines. Breathing is hard, especially when there’s a sweet perfume spreading through the sterile air inside the plane. A scent Jungkook knows too well. 

His senses come down at him all at once, bringing way more sensations than he can handle right now. His trembling fingers fumble to open the first button of his shirt. He’ll be wrinkled and disheveled by the end of this flight, anyway, why not start now?

Through the noises of the plane making its way down the runway, a slow humming reaches his ears. 

It’s too carefree to be actually carefree. Jungkook knows a tease when he hears one. Especially one that is purposefully directed towards him. 

He whips his head wildly to the side, only to find his seatmate completely relaxed, eyes closed and lips pursed like he can’t help but find this situation way too amusing. 

Jungkook’s jaw releases from its tight lock to open into an incredulous gape when the man curls his lips up just the slightest.  

This can’t be fucking happening.

He can’t be trapped in a plane with Kim Taehyung, of all people. His ex-boyfriend.

There’s a ringing in his ear when a voice comes out of the speakers. It’s filled with excitement, but to Jungkook, it sounds more like a presage. 

“Good evening, passengers. This is Captain Park Jimin speaking. First, I’d like to welcome you aboard Korean Air flight B405 to New York City. We apologize for the delay, but we’re now ready for our departure. Our flight has an estimated duration of 16 hours, and our revised time of arrival is 8 pm, local time. Until our destination is reached, please sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the flight. Thank you.” 

16 hours until landing

Jungkook is most certainly not enjoying the flight.

If there’s one thing about Taehyung, it's that his presence is loud. It has always been. 

Not only because he’s a star, looks like one, and shines like one, too. No, his loudness is beyond the supermodel face and charismatic energy. 

Taehyung is loud in the way he moves, hands always restless looking for something to play with. The cap of a pen, the button of a shirt, the loose thread of his jeans, other people's fingers. Taehyung is loud in the way he breathes, long sighs and slow hums whenever he’s thinking too hard or contemplating something.

It makes his presence impossible to go unnoticed.

Even though Jungkook’s eyes are closed and there’s a whole partition separating them, he can hear the flick of the seatbelt against restless fingers, he can listen to Taehyung's huffs of laughs, probably a reaction to whatever he’s been watching.

It’s pure madness.

What is louder than the actual noise, though, is the unbothered attitude Taehyung displayed since he stepped into this place. Doesn’t he feel slightly bad for making an entire flight wait for him?

Of course not, Jungkook thinks, releasing a huff. He has seen this a hundred times. Famous people think their time is more precious than other people’s, they disrespect everyone around them and act as if it is their right to do so.  With big personalities, come big egos. He had just forgotten how enormous Taehyung’s is. 

It’s not surprising at all he was the one delaying more than three hundred people’s schedules. Amongst all the arrogant people Jungkook knows, Taehyung might as well be in the top five, if he thinks about it. 

Ironically, as much as Taehyung is the loud person among them, it’s Jungkook who owns the loud mouth. Letting his thoughts out, his lips spill the words before he can make an effort to keep them inside him. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters to himself.

The humming of the engines seems to mute for a second, echoing the words around him. 

“Seriously?” The low, deep voice travels to his side at the same time the partition between their seats lowers, revealing Taehyung’s placid face. 

“Hm?” Jungkook blinks blankly at the person in front of him, eyes roaming his expression to see if he catches anything different, but Taehyung looks the same as always. It’s only when he blinks again that it dawns on him that he's seeing Taehyung face-to-face for the first time in two years. Thank god those high cheekbones and perfect nose do nothing for him anymore.

“I literally heard you.” The sigh that leaves Taehyung’s plump, pink lips is not a huff, it’s barely a sound. Not enough to show annoyance or anger. 

For someone who has seen him impersonate the most different characters for work, Jungkook doesn’t buy the unbothered attitude. Taehyung is a master at dominating emotions. Acting is what he does best, after all. 

In another situation, Jungkook would leave it alone. He can hear Hoseok’s voice in his mind, reasoning all the pros of keeping his mouth shut and pretending nothing is happening. But the strain in his neck and the uneasiness in his stomach are louder than any good sense disguised as his friend’s voice. 

If he isn’t relaxed on this plane, Taehyung will surely not be either. 

“I said I can’t believe this is happening, but of course I can,” Jungkook says with a defiant glare. He’s not proud of the bite in his tone, but he has never been good at keeping it at bay in the first place. Acting is not one of his talents. “Who else here would think everyone in the world works according to their schedule?” 

Taehyung’s half-lidded eyes stare at him for a moment too long. He blinks three times — not that Jungkook is too aware of every detail. The air Jungkook tries to breathe in gets heavier the more he takes to reply.

“Do you have any idea how insane it was with all those people outside waiting for me?” Taehyung’s eyebrows raise the slightest as he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. 

An incredulous, bitter laugh escapes Jungkook’s lips before he can contain it. “Oh, I am sure it was terrible to have all the people screaming your name,” he says with an eye-roll.  “You hate the attention so much.”

The ring of someone calling the flight attendant mixes with the ringing in Jungkook’s ear. He should order water, the sour taste in his mouth only gets worse the more Taehyung stares at him showing no signs of relenting. 

“I can see you still know absolutely nothing about me,” he says, displaying a smile that could be mistaken for guile if Taehyung didn’t speak so gently. 

“Sure.” 

As noisy as he is, Taehyung’s smile comes accompanied by a pleased, low hum. “Ah, I can see where this is coming from.”

Once again, Hoseok’s voice in his mind begs him to be rational and ignore the blatant bait, but the bitterness in his chest doesn’t leave space for reasoning. 

“Hm?” Jungkook arches an eyebrow. 

“You never liked eyes on me,” Taehyung says, biting his lower lip in a dramatic pause. He lets go of the plumpy flesh of his mouth, only to bring his long, slender fingers close to his face to tap at his chin pensively. Once upon a time, Jungkook loved how he moved, his gestures always elegantly composed to show the best parts of him. Now, all he sees is how much of a robot Taehyung actually is. “I can see you still don’t.”

“You must have lost your mind.” Much less graciously, Jungkook jerks a hand in the air. 

“Oh, have I?” Taehyung keeps his grin like this is just entertaining to him.

“I couldn’t care less who looks at you, Taehyung,” Jungkook spits, his face twisting in a disproportionately offended grimace. “You know what?” He waves a hand in the air, bumping his elbow on the armrest. He hisses when the sharp pain buzzes through his arm, bringing his other hand to cup the sore spot. “I might need a drink if I’m forced to endure this for the next sixteen hours.”

Taehyung simply laughs, shaking his head to the side. The sound travels easily, like everything that comes from Taehyung. 

In Jungkook’s ears, it’s loud and obnoxious. He can’t remember why this was once his favorite sound. 

He desperately hits the button to call the flight attendant, jamming his finger on it like it would make the cabin crew materialize in front of him. 

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?” The flight attendant with a melodic voice stops by his side, a polite smile adorning his impeccable face.

“Hello, hi,” Jungkook says nervously, squinting at the man in search of a name tag “Hm..?”

“Kim Seokjin,” the man promptly offers. 

“Nice to meet you, Seokjin-ssi.” Jungkook stiffens a smile. “May I have some whiskey? Neat.”

Seokjin starts to frown, but then his face settles for another polite smile. “I’m sorry, sir, we haven’t reached cruising altitude yet. Drinks can only be served once the plane has taken off completely.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook pouts, eyes going strategically wide. He’s by no means good at acting, but he has heard a lot about how his round features resemble a baby bunny. A fact Jungkook tried to change by acting more serious than he actually is. Not today, though. Today, baby bunny will do the job. “Not even a shot? I can drink it pretty fast.”

The corners of Seokjin’s lips twitch, and he smoothes a hand over his perfectly straight baby blue uniform vest. “It’s the rule, sir.”

“But I swear it’s—”

“I’ve already said you have to wait, Mr. Jeon.” The polite smile is quickly replaced by a glare.

Jungkook inhales, both to settle the frustration that grows inside him and to try once again to convince the steward but just when the words are forming on his tongue, a body leans over the division of their seats — long, tanned arms propped on the armrest, totally invading Jungkook’s space.

“Oh Seokjin-ssi, I’m sorry for my friend here,” Taehyung says, his voice overly sweet. Between the forced tone and the word “friend”, a wave of nausea hits Jungkook. They were never friends before, and they surely aren’t now. 

“He’s just stressed with the long flight, you know how it is, uh?” Taehyung goes on, gesturing towards Jungkook. The air gets stuck inside Jungkook’s lungs when he thinks the long fingers are going to brush over his shoulder. The imminent touch happening is slow motion, but too fast for Jungkook to jerk his body away. When the only thing he feels is the air fanning as Taehyung flicks his palm in the air, a weird mix of relief and disappointment floods his chest. “Do you think you can give us one of those small bottles? Just so he has it in hand when the captain says it’s okay. I’ll make sure he doesn’t drink it while we’re still taking off.” Taehyung finishes with a wink as if this is a secret between him and Seokjin only. 

The flight attendant’s hard face softens. Seokjin looks around, licking his lips in an internal debate. Completely flustered, his mouth opens into a smile that is shy and giddy at the same time. “I— Yes, I guess I could do that.” 

And how could he act differently? Taehyung has this effect on people. The way he moves, the way he talks, the way his lashes flutter strategically. All to lure people into whatever it is he’s saying.

Jungkook fell for the spell before, he knows how it works. 

“Yes!” Taeyung giggles, smacking the armrest. “You’re the best, Seokjin-ssi.” Another one of those winks that Jungkook absolutely despises, and the flight attendant is spellbound.

Seokjin smiles even larger, staring at Taehyung for a moment longer. Jungkook watches attentively as his eyes linger on the actor's face like he’s just met god. 

It’s like one of those scenes where the fisherman gets hypnotized by the marvelous siren, except they’re not on the water. Jungkook kind of wishes they were, at least he would be able to drown in the ocean to avoid being in the middle of the most charged staring contest he has ever had the distaste to witness. 

Jungkook shifts in his seat as he clears his throat loudly, snapping Seokjin out of his trance. 

Seokjin squares his shoulders back and his mouth opens to say something, but he shuts it the next moment and nods, finally walking away.

Jungkook’s next inhale is sharp and annoyed, but worse is his exhale. It comes out like a huff, nostrils flaring in distaste. “Seriously?” His stupid mouth says once again, not a chance of having any thoughts filtered today.

The annoyance must be latent in his tone because Taehyung throws him a sharp glance, and says, “Got you your drink, didn’t I?”

There it is. The condescendence. Jungkook was waiting for it, waiting for something he could recognize behind the placid facade. Taehyung always loved acting like people should be thankful for having him around.

As sourness reaches Jungkook’s tongue, he’s never been less grateful in his life.  “Flirting with the flight attendant?” He tilts his chin up when he huffs. “I could get that drink myself if I were willing to stoop this low.”

Taehyung laughs softly and airly at first, but the last bit comes out like a small squeal. Not as controlled as he thinks he is. Jungkook notices he hit a spot. 

“Oh, dear—”

“Here’s your drink, Mr. Kim,” Seokjin says. Even though the drink was for Jungkook and he’s still standing on Jungkook’s side of the aisle, he bends forward to hand Taehyung the small bottle. The grin on his face lingers even after Taehyung has taken the bottle. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but—” Seokjin clears his throat, the tips of his ears getting red as he rushes to add, “I really admire your work. It’s a pleasure to have you with us tonight.”

Taehyung’s face lights up in genuine excitement. “The pleasure is mine, Seokjin-ssi.” 

His smile this time is less rehearsed, less stiff. The same one Taehyung wears when he receives a positive criticism of his work, or when his grandmother says she’s been watching his dramas.

It looks real on his face. 

There’s no time to pay attention to the discomfort that settles on the base of his spine. As Seokjin leaves with a proud face, Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Show off.” 

“See?” Taehyung’s face shifts, his cheeks rising up as his grin becomes sharp again. “Still can’t handle other people’s eyes on me…”

Jungkook almost chokes on his own spit, but he gulps it down alongside all the curse words he wants to throw at Taehyung. The fucking audacity. 

Anger flares up inside his chest, but Jungkook doesn’t give Taehyung the pleasure of seeing him burning. With trembling fingers, he lifts the partition between their seats, the whiskey no longer a necessity. 

15 hours until landing

The words in front of him make no sense. He has read this paragraph at least three times, and he’s sure it isn’t that hard. It’s the same inspirational quotes he always parrots in corporate events like the one he’ll be attending when he arrives in New York. It’s the kind of thing he became way too acquainted with in the past three years since his uncle told him he needed to motivate and inspire his team if he wanted to be a good CEO.

He tries to focus on the speech he needs to memorize, but the loud noise of things jostling by his side interrupts his every train of thought. There’s clicking and shattering, things being dragged, and annoyed huffs. 

He drops the papers on his lap, curling the edges of the sheets with his finger. Taehyung’s presence was loud even when they were apart, now that they’re sharing the space, of course it would be thunderous. 

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook catches him standing.

The division covers most of his body, but Jungkook can still see his slender arms raised, searching for something in the overhead compartment. He has no idea what the hell Taehyung has in his hand luggage, but it must be impossibly heavy and cluttered for all the effort he’s putting into finding whatever he needs.

Which is typical. Taehyung has always been an over-packer who would rather spend his money on overweight fees than on buying what he forgot. At some point, Jungkook thought it was funny. Now it’s just utterly annoying.

Even more annoying are his gestures. He digs and pushes things from one side to the other in wide movements. The angle makes his arms look impossibly longer. They seem stronger too, the curve of his biceps way too prominent.  Definitely the muscle of someone who works out regularly. 

There’s a lot to be seen already, the tank top Taehyung is wearing underneath the overshirt hangs low in his chest. Endless patches of golden skin revealing his collarbones. When he bounces on his feet to find something in the back of the compartment, the leopard print overshirt slides down his shoulders, revealing the hollowness of his armpits. Jungkook knows for a fact the skin there is thin but smooth, warm to the touch. It’s sensitive and it makes Taehyung squirm when nuzzled there. 

Jungkook’s fingers curl the paper on his lap getting the pages all wrinkled.  

He wonders if, with his arms stretched up like this, the shirt has also rode up around his waist, revealing a strip of his stomach and the hairs of his na—

His heart leaps in his chest when the overhead compartment shuts with a loud thud, followed by Taehyung dropping items on his seat. 

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook mutters. He looks down at the papers in his hands, trying to find where he stopped. The pages are so twisted he has to flat his hand over and over to make it go back to a flat shape. His palms leave wet stains on the paper, and that’s when Jungkook notices he’s been sweating. Isn’t the temperature in airplanes supposed to be controlled? 

He shakes his head, annoyance melting into his temples like this equally irritating headache. The noises keep coming even though Taehyung is already back in his seat. Jungkook reads the same sentence over and over, trying to fix it to his brain. The words almost jump on the paper when a loud grunt comes from the other side of the partition.

A frustrated groan falls from his lips as he tosses the papers on the small table in front of him.

He hammers the partition button, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor as he waits for it to go down. “Could you please keep it— What the fuck are you doing?! ”

When the division between their seats lowers completely, Jungkook chokes on his own spit. The suffocating sensation comes along a burning one that crawls up his cheeks, making his whole body feel like it will combust at any time. 

Completely unfazed, Taehyung freezes in place with his hips raised up from the seat. He stops pulling the yellow shorts up his thighs and throws Jungkook the most unbothered glance of all. “Getting comfortable?”

Jungkook’s jaw shutters as he looks at Taehyung in black boxer briefs, long legs stretched in front of him for everyone to see. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the way his stomach swoops at the sight. “There’s literally a bathroom you could use to change?!” He ranks his eyes up and tries to push the words out, but they sound more like a squeal.

Amusement flicks through Taehyung’s face bringing the infamous cocky smile back. “You’re the one who lowered the partition,” he says, slowly pulling the short all the way up.

Besides being loud, Taehyung loves putting on a show. He wouldn’t be a star if he didn’t like it. And right now, that’s exactly what Taehyung is doing as he stretches the band of his shorts around his hips, giving Jungkook one last glance at the bulge on his groin, right before snapping the band against the skin of his waist. 

Jungkook gulps, following every movement carefully, not able to turn away. He despises how Taehyung seeks attention, uses his body the right way to make everyone aware of how hot he is. In the past, Jungkook indulged him. He latched his mouth on those impossibly long legs, bit and sucked the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, licked the birthmark just under his hip bone. He can still hear the sounds Taehyung used to make when he wrapped his legs around Jungkook’s head, begging for more.

“They gave us pajamas!” Jungkook blurts out, fumbling to reach for the bag in the pocket in front of him.

“You know I run hot,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly. And to his distaste, Jungkook knows it very well. “But also, why deny you from seeing these…” Taehyung teases, crawling his fingers over his left thigh. He can’t keep in character this time, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth the moment he’s done speaking. 

The audacity only feeds the flaring anger burning inside Jungkook’s chest. His throat gets dry when his breath quickens. 

Two years apart make you forget vile details. He had deleted from his memory how low Taehyung could play. How naive of him to think he could actually affect Jungkook with his overly dramatic seduction acts. 

The heat coiling inside his stomach is pure, raw anger. 

“I was trying to focus on work and you’re being loud!” Jungkook’s voice comes hoarse this time. If his mouth was dry before, now his tongue feels like sandpaper. Funny what hatred does to your body.

“Well, I’m quiet now.” Taehyung flutters his lashes and smiles angelically. “Good luck focusing on work.” He crosses one leg over the other, his shorts riding up to reveal the curve of his ass.

Jungkook hits the partition button furiously, jaw clenched. Taehyung’s face disappears on the other side of the acrylic division, but his chuckle lingers a beat longer in the air.

14 hours until landing

“What the hell?” 

The words are so loud that Jungkook can hear them through his headphones. It’s not like he wants to pay attention to what’s being said, but when Taehyung continues, Jungkook can’t help but pause the song that’s been playing to listen. 

“Namjoon-ah, what do you mean by shirtless shooting? You’re my manager, you should’ve told me sooner—” The silence stretches for a second. “You didn’t know? How?” A small pause followed by a huff, and then Taehyung is being loud again. “Of course my abs are fine. No— that’s not— Stop joking around!” 

Now that’s surprising. Not the shirtless shooting or his abs being fine. As far as he can recall, yes, Taehyung had posed shirtless for this jeans brand before he became a Celine ambassador. And yes, his abs are more than fine. 

Not that Jungkook cares. 

No, none of that is surprising. What is surprising is to hear that Namjoon is Taehyung’s manager. In the final months of their relationship, Taehyung was all over the place trying to convince his manager at the time not to quit. He had just signed up for the drama that would put him in the headlines. How could he do everything without the person who had supported him throughout his whole career?

Jungkook never knew what happened next.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kim,” Seokjin approaches from Taehyung's side. “Are you by any means making a call?” 

“Oh!” Taehyung startles. Jungkook can’t see him over the partition, but he can imagine his confused face vividly. “Yes, I am.” He pauses for a while, then resumes talking to his phone. “Hyung, I don’t understand who got it wrong but this is just un—”

“Mr. Kim,” Seokjin says again, voice now a little more strained, but Taehyung doesn’t register, he keeps babbling furiously. 

It’s so typical of him. To think he’s the only one with something to say, to completely ignore the words being directed at him unless they’re praise. Jungkook feels sorry for Seokjin, really. Less than three hours around Taehyung and he’s already having to deal with his bullshit. The man sure isn’t paid enough for that.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook lowers the partition once again.

“Taehyung!” He waves a hand in front of his face, looking up apologetically at the flight attendant. “Seokjin-ssi is talking to you.”

Taehyung jolts back, almost dropping his phone on his lap. “Oh.” He looks confused at Jungkook, then stares back at Seokjin. “Yes?” 

The flight attendant's smile is tight on his face, but his voice is calm when he goes on, “I am sorry, Mr. Kim, but you’ll have to hang up.”

“But I’m using wifi, it’s not a normal call,” Taehyung frowns, lifting the phone to Seokjin’s face. 

“ Taehyung-ah? Are you there?” 

“I know,” Seokjin says placidly, clasping both hands in front of him. “But for the comfort of other passengers, you can’t make calls during the flight. I’m sure you understand.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, entitlement hardening the corners of his face. 

Jungkook has the scoff ready on the tip of his tongue, only waiting for Taehyung to cause a scene. 

His face falters when Taehyung shakes his head like he’s confused, then bows his head slightly to Seokjin. “Of course, I am so sorry!” Then, he presses the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, hyung, I have to go. Text me.”

Jungkook blinks in disbelief, jaw going slack. 

Not that Seokjin deserves to be disrespected, but Taehyung has never been pliant like this. He snaps with witty comments when he’s interrupted and he stomps his feet on the floor like a five-year-old when he’s denied something. 

The scoff that was laying on his tongue slips anyway when Seokjin walks away, releasing a long sigh.

“What now?” Taehyung looks unimpressed. There’s this small frown in the middle of his forehead, the one he always fosters when something is bothering him. Something important.

“Nothing.” 

If Taehyung hears, he pretends he doesn’t. For a while, all he does is stare at his phone, furiously typing. “Thinking of me shirtless?” The question comes after a full minute, in a voice devoid of emotions. Taehyung’s chin remains tucked, his eyes still glued on the phone when he says, “Search online. I’m sure you’re well acquainted with how to find information about me.”

Jungkook whips his head, shoulders going rigid with tension. A familiar heat sinks in his stomach, the unpleasant warmness of being caught. 

“I was just checking the news!” Jungkook blinks rapidly, flailing his hand in the air. 

Slowly, Taehyung lowers his phone and spares him a glance that looks more bored than anything. “At the gossip section?”

Jungkook hates the way his body reacts promptly, not even giving him a chance to control his movements. He flinches in the seat, crossing his arms over his chest defensively, and replies in a squeaky voice, “I was redirected!” 

Taehyung looks at him for another long second before he shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

Of all the things he expected of Taehyung tonight, indifference is surely not one of them. Taehyung is never uninterested. No, Taehyung always makes sure people are treated nicely, otherwise, how will they offer him praise?

Jungkook shifts in his spot, angling his body so he can face Taehyung better. Even with the partition lowered, there’s an invisible barrier between them that makes it hard to recognize who this person is in front of him.

There’s a list in Jungkook’s mind of all the ways Taehyung can be unbearable. Being a brat is at the very top, followed by being a tease, and then, acting spoiled. Give Jungkook any of those attitudes and he can deal with it, even though it makes him want to bite his fists. But detachment is something he has no idea what to do with. This is a version of Taehyung that Jungkook doesn’t know. 

A version that not only acts differently but has his best friend as manager. Why hasn't the news that Jungkook so devotedly followed in the past two years mentioned this fact? 

“I didn’t expect Namjoon to be your manager,” Jungkook blurts out. Apparently, his brain-to-mouth filter stayed in Seoul tonight alongside his dignity.

The lack of austerity in Jungkook’s words must surprise Taehyung. His brows arch slightly, but he doesn’t look away from his phone. “Yes, he is. It took some convincing, but he’s been my manager since Yeri quit.”

Jungkook hums, nodding slowly. “That’s good. I like Namjoon, he’s good for you.”

Composed as ever, Taehyung turns to face him with a challenging gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook’s mouth parts in surprise when his brain registers what he just said. He closes his jaw shut, clearing his throat. “I mean he’s a good worker.” And because it’s not enough to simply say something unharmful, Jungkook adds, “Keeps your ego in place.”

“You should hire someone to keep yours. Hoseok is not paid enough for that.” There’s a sharp contrast between Taehyung’s hardened face and mechanically calm voice that throws Jungkook off. 

“Excuse me?” Jungkook tilts his chin tilts up slightly, chest puffing defensively. 

Taehyung looks around, searching for something he knows he won’t find. “I’m surprised he’s not with you. You always forced that poor man to follow your every step.”

Jungkook might be many things. He’s inflexible about his schedule and he’s awful at keeping the kitchen tidy. Overall, he’s well aware of his flaws, but being a bad employer is not one of them. Rage bubbles in his chest once again, and it’s bitter and curious to notice that this might be the new feeling his heart associates with Taehyung. 

“I never forced him to do  anything, but of course, you wouldn’t understand that.”

“Of course not,” Taehyung says ironically. “You’re the only one who knows about how a career works.”

Jungkook’s fingers flex on the armrest in reflex. There it is. The pettiness. 

It’s unimaginable to think he once dealt with all that with open arms. Who with a sane mind would be willing to deal with someone who disrespects everyone around them? 

Maybe anger is the best feeling to feel towards Taehyung, after all. Imagine how ridiculous it would be to have room to feel love towards someone so petty.

Jungkook is so fucking glad he’s over this man. 

“I’m CEO, Taehyung, what do you expect?” He scoffs.  “That I work by myself?”

“Ah!” Taehyung claps his hands loudly, startling a passenger next to him, who throws them a sharp glare. “The title. Finally got what you wanted, huh?”

Jungkook’s urge to jerk his body angrily vanishes. Suddenly, the air conditioning feels cold. Too cold. 

“You knew it was gonna happen.” Jungkook deadpans, voice tight in his throat. “Why are you acting surprised?”

Taehyung blinks at Jungkook and instead of bitterness, his face flashes with something scornful. 

Sarcasm is better than indifference, right? 

“Oh, I am not.” Just like that, Taehyung whips his head to the side and rolls up the partition. 

13 hours until landing 

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Seokjin stops by Jungkook’s side with a dazzling smile. “What would you like for dinner tonight?”

Jungkook finishes taking a last look at the menu, then lifts his gaze to the flight attendant and smiles. “Steak for me, please.”

“Alright.” He nods, then looks past the lowering partition. “And you Mr. Kim?” 

The stiffened smile Taehyung sends him is clearly rehearsed this time. “I am good, thank you.”

Seokjin is about to ask something else, but Jungkook doesn’t even wait for it before turning to Taehyung with blatant concern. “Taehyung, you have to eat.”

The tight smile doesn’t last on Taehyung’s face. He curls up one eyebrow in question, and replies, “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

Jungkook is more than aware this is not his business anymore. He can’t simply care about Taehyung like he always did. It’s not his right to do so.

But he can’t help but think of the nights when Taehyung went to bed with his belly growling, the days he would drink ridiculous amounts of water to trick his empty stomach. All the crazy diets and the insane exercise routine Jungkook watched he put himself through every time he had a big project ahead.

It crushed Jungkook’s heart back then. It’s with a weird constriction in his chest now that he realizes it still does. 

It’s none of his business, and it never was, truth be told. Taehyung always set that boundary. He would deal with his career the way he thought it was best, even when there were too many red flags. And Jungkook would always comply, because who was he to deny Taehyung anything? 

Now there are no boundaries anymore. Jungkook knows for a fact that Taehyung already hates him, what’s the risk?

With a jolt, Jungkook snaps his head back at Seokjin and says, “He’ll have the fish filet.” 

Seokjin stops, confused when Taehyung opens his mouth. Jungkook can see the spiteful words hanging on the tip of his lips, but instead of throwing them all out in haste, Taehyung closes his lips into what should look like a smile and nods curtly at Seokjin. 

The flight attendant hesitates, tilting his head.  Whatever is going on in his mind is easily dismissed when he presses his mouth in a thin smile and excuses himself.

The moment he vanishes behind the curtains, Taehyung takes the longest inhale he has in hours, shutting his eyes to calm himself down. Jungkook doesn’t miss the way his lids tremble and his jaw clenches. When the air evades his lungs completely, he slowly turns his whole body to the side to face Jungkook. Collected, but miles away from being cool. “Care to explain what that was about?” He asks in a calm voice that sounds horribly ingenuine.

Jungkook gives back the same unbothered gaze. “You have to eat.” 

“I have an eating plan to follow,” Taehyung deadpans. His lips twitch, almost curling down to show some sort of emotion. He presses them in a thin line quick enough. “I can’t eat this late.”

Jungkook allows the silence to grow between them as he searches for something on Taehyung’s face. Something that will denounce his annoyance, his rage. But he remains stoic, a fucking robot that Jungkook wants to shake to see if it reacts properly. When Taehyung’s features show nothing, he sighs. “We’re mid-air, time does not exist here. I don’t want you feeling sick by my side because you didn’t eat.”

Blinking in incredulity, Taehyung asks, “So you’re telling me you did it for your own sake?” 

Jungkook simply gives him a pointed look. Taehyung knows quite well it wasn’t, but saying it out loud is pointless.

“I’m just trying to understand,” Taehyung adds. “I won’t feel sick, I’m used to this.”

All the muscles of Jungkook’s shoulders retract. Of fucking course he’s used to it, yet, it shouldn’t be something to confess so naturally.  “Oh, I know quite well,” he spits.

“No,” Taehyung says firmly. But then, his voice cracks. “No, you don’t.” All the composure that he’s been sporting for the past hours vanishes from his body in a split second.  Taehyung leans forward an inch, and his voice is as cold as the air blasting from above them when he adds, “I haven’t seen you for two years. You know nothing.”

Jungkook had expected Taehyung’s first genuine words to be full of anger, that’s what he was trying to do, right? He wanted to see him break. Only he didn’t expect the words to hit him like sharp razors.

And they shouldn’t. What Taehyung said is nothing but a fact — one Jungkook is too aware of. Yet, his whole body recoils. 

To disguise his pain, Jungkook lets the bitterness take over once again. Sometimes it’s easier to mask one hard feeling with another. “It seems like little has changed.”

“Look who’s talking.” Taehyung scowls. 

Jungkook pokes his cheek with his tongue, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung jaw locks, a vein in his neck popping out when he pushes the words out, “You’re still condescending as always.” Theatrical as ever, Taehyung flicks a hand in the air. “Thinking you know what’s best for everyone. Always the moral rule of the world!”

“I’m not like that!”

Taehyung lets out a tired sigh, pushing his hair back with both hands. He sounds exhausted, but his face doesn’t soften. He’s still flushed and his lids are trembling when he speaks, “You just ordered food for me, for fuck’s sake!”

“This is different!” Jungkook defends himself in a low tone, thumping his head back and throwing his arms up. It’s not possible that Taehyung can’t see it, that he thinks Jungkook is doing this for the sake of being annoying.

“Oh yeah?” Taehyung tilts his head, crossing one arm over his stomach and resting an elbow on it to bring a fist under his chin. “Why?”

“You’re being unhealthy! You probably had your last meal yesterday,” Jungkook whispers angrily, the words bursting from him before he can contain them.

Taehyung stills completely, his face faltering. He blinks too many times, and each time he flutters his lashes, Jungkook realizes the way his expression twists is not at all a sign of rage.

Looking at Taehyung now, all confused eyes and downturned lips, Jungkook runs short of breath. How could it take so long for him to notice it? 

Taehyung is not cracking because he’s mad. He’s cracking because he is hurt.

Something breaks inside Jungkook’s barely whole heart. He wants to take it back, to call Seokjin and cancel the order but that wouldn’t make a difference. Time might not be real in an airplane, but that doesn’t mean he can turn it back and undo his mistakes. 

Taehyung presses his lips, taking a deep inhale to stabilize himself. “No.” Another deep inhale and the collected façade is back, but the hurt still flashes in his eyes at each word. “I ate before leaving for the airport if that’s your concern.” Jungkook is about to interrupt saying eating an apple a day is not a proper meal, but Taehyung lifts a finger, his gaze going cold when he says without breaking eye contact, “I had three meals today.”

“Oh.” Jungkook's face falters. He searches in Taehyung’s expression for signs of a lie, to see if his mouth twitches or if he darts his eyes to conceal the truth in them, but Taehyung remains ruthless, staring at him with such intensity that makes Jungkook feel small. 

“Yes,” Taehyung adds, voice sharp. He raises his chin up, the previous hurt being replaced by an impenetrable expression. “You know nothing about me. Stop pretending you still do.”

The coldness of his tone sips through Jungkook’s bones as ice, and he watches without reacting as Taehyung presses the button to call the cabin crew with a clench on his jaw.

“Yes, Mr. Kim?” Seokjin says when he approaches.

“Do you mind canceling the fish filet?” Taehyung asks with a voice that is so different from the one he used with Jungkook, so gentle and polite it sounds like a whole different person. 

Seokjin looks confused for a second but then nods. “Yes, of course. Anything else?”

“Actually, yes.” Taehyung shifts in his spot, gathering the things he has around and clutching them against his chest. “Could I switch seats?”

Jungkook gasps in surprise. He’s been annoyed since he got on this flight and Taehyung is the one who wants to leave?

“I am so sorry, Mr. Kim, but all seats in first class are taken,” Seokjin says apologetically even though there’s nothing apologetic on his face. Quite the contrary, his polite smile looks more like a constipated press of lips now.

Incapable of having his wishes denied, Taehyung flutters his lashes, his voice dropping to a mellow tone. “Seokjin-ssi,” he stops, huffs a small giggle, “have I told you this is a pretty name?”

Seokjin clears his throat but doesn’t blush like before. “Thank you, sir.”

“So, Seokjin-ssi, maybe you could ask someone to switch seats?” 

He stares at Taehyung with a hint of incredulity for a second, then sucks a breath in through his teeth. “I can’t do that, sir.”

“But Seokjin-ssi—”

“I am sorry, Mr. Kim,” Seokjin interrupts, raising a palm up. “All the clients are accommodated and I can’t disrupt their flight. I’ll cancel your meal as requested,” he adds and bows politely, not giving Taehyung space to say anything else.

“Ouch.” Jungkook tries to get the upper hand again as he watches Taehyung gaping at the aisle. “Looks like your admirer isn’t falling for your charms anymore,” he deadpans. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

12 hours until landing

The food sits weirdly in his stomach. It’s not that it wasn’t good. Airplane food is purposefully thought out so as not to make passengers feel sick, and first class meals are purposefully thought out to make the passengers feel at a nice restaurant. But the constant bitterness in his tongue overpowered the taste of everything, the tightness in his stomach making the stake sink like stones inside him. 

He retracts his seat fully, Jungkook knows he has no one to blame for his indigestion but himself. He’s honest when he says he knows his flaws. He’s old enough to acknowledge without shame his defense mechanism is pettiness. Sometimes facing hard situations requires a level of irrationality. Even at 32. 

He’ll also stand by the fact that Taehyung’s presence annoys him in every sense and he won’t be ashamed to banter just so the other feels annoyed too. 

But annoyance is different from hurt.

It’s not like Jungkook to hurt people like this, even the ones who hate him. Even the ones he hates back.

“Taehyung?” He clears his throat and calls him before lowering the partition. 

“What now?” Taehyung replies sharply without taking his eyes off the screen in front of him. An animation Jungkook doesn’t recognize plays, and he feels invaded by this weird fondness. Taehyung has always loved those movies.

He takes a deep breath in, casting his eyes to his feet. “I am sorry. I’m being uncivilized.” 

“Yes, you are.”

The guilt lasts two seconds. Taehyung is never the one who bends. He’ll always sit in the highest spot, waiting for everyone to come to him. Typical. 

He glares at Taehyung but takes a deep breath. He can be the bigger person here. “We still have twelve hours here. I’m sure we can cohabit.” 

“I agree.”

The silence stretches as Jungkook watches Taehyung remain unmoving like a board, the screen casting an odd shade of blue against his face. Patiently, Jungkook licks his lips, wondering if he should go back to his business or try something else.

The correct answer would be to lift the division and forget his ex is by his side. Rationally, that’s the only option. Hoseok would totally agree with him. 

It’s been two years. Their last words were definitive, they made it more than clear there was nothing for them to talk about anymore. There’s also nothing about him Jungkook needs to know, not when he already knows everything through the media. But for some reason, he cocks his head to the side and tentatively asks, “So, how have you been?”

If Taehyung was stiff before, it’s nothing compared to the way his whole body tenses like he’s not sure he heard it right. “Great,” he answers automatically after a long while.

“Did, uh—” Jungkook pauses, wets his lips. “Did the crowd earlier bother you?”

A tired sigh leaves Taehyung’s lips and he rolls his head to the side. “I thought you were sure I loved the attention.”

The light moment of reconciliation dissipates quickly in the air. There’s no such thing as expecting uninterested niceness from Taehyung, forgetting that is a beginner's mistake. “You know what?” Jungkook clicks his tongue in annoyance. “I don’t even know why I am trying.”

“Oh, well, neither do I,” Taehyung spits, hand curling into a fist mid-air. Slowly, he takes another calming breath in and reaches for the screen, pressing pause. “For real, what do you want?”

Jungkook’s mouth is empty of words. He blinks at Taehyung, and the more he tries to come up with a reason, he can’t seem to find a good one. That’s surely a hell of a good question. Why the fuck would he want to talk to his ex? The person who brought him nothing but pain and sorrow in the past two years? 

“I was just being polite,” he deflects. At least it’s not a lie. 

Taehyung hums, studying him for a second. The lights in the plane are dimmed, in an attempt to make the passengers rest, and Taehyung’s eyes shine in the dark, squinting almost like a predator watching its prey. Jungkook knows what’s coming his way. All of the hairs on his arm rise when Taehyung folds his legs on the seat and sits on top of them, leaning his body over the armrest as if to see him better. “You know what I think?” Taehyung says slowly, biting his lower lip. He bends forward a little bit more and immediately, Jungkook’s eyes are drawn to the skin of his chest exposed by the loose shirt hanging off his body. It’s only for a brief second, but Taehyung doesn’t miss it. A smirk grows on his face. “It’s been two years, but I think you’re still obsessed with me.”

The words ricochet, almost like they sound louder in the lack of proper light. Everything burns, inside and out. “You sure think you’re a whole lot,” Jungkook says with a bitter, but nervous chuckle. 

Under Taehyung’s piercing gaze, Jungkook fumbles with the second button of his shirt, his other hand reaching for the air conditioning vents. Wasn’t it too cold before? Things are clearly not working in this plane.  

“Shhhh!” An annoyed voice comes from somewhere around them.

Taehyung looks over his shoulders apologetically even though nobody can see him properly. When he turns back, his voice is lower. “You know for a fact that I fucking am,” he admits shamelessly, tongue running over his grin. It’s wicked, a mix of teasing and anger on his lips. “You act like you can’t stand me, yet you can’t keep your eyes off me. Can’t keep your mouth shut either.”

Being a professional actor in Taehyung’s case comes with being an expert in manipulating his reactions and emotions to provoke exactly what he wants from others. 

If Jungkook deflects by being petty, Taehyung does it by being seductive. Breaking his opponent by making them flustered. He did that with Seokjin earlier, he does that now, slowly tilting his neck to the side and biting his smile, sucking the lower lip inside his mouth.

Jungkook should feel relief from being immune to this. Imagine falling for this cheap trick like the steward did, what a joke. 

He scoffs, reaching for the forgotten papers in the pocket of his seat to fan himself. “I can see you’re still delusional as ever. I was just trying to be polite, but some people apparently can’t.”

The flirting, as fast as it started, is completely gone. The darkness in Taehyung’s eyes now flashes with anger when every corner of his face hardens.

Being a good actor asks for changing the mood quickly, fitting into what the scene requests. Now, Jungkook has no idea if this is just a second act, following the flirt, or if it’s Taehyung showing his true colors. 

“Two years, Jungkook.”

Everything around him freezes as if the plane just stopped moving mid-air. Jungkook’s free hand finds the armrest nonetheless, holding himself like he was hit by something as the other stills, the paper falling from his grip.

It’s been five hours and this is the first time Taehyung says his name. 

No. It’s been two years and this is the first time Taehyung says his name. 

It’s so drenched with despise it makes Jungkook wish he never did. 

“You didn’t call me, you didn’t send a fucking text, and now you want to be polite? To make conversation?” Taehyung's voice is too firm, not matching the way his red face trembles. 

“ I didn’t look for you?” Jungkook brings a hand to his chest, letting a dry, incredulous laugh out. “ You broke up with me!”

Of fucking course Taehyung would put the blame on him. What was he expecting? That he would be polite and Taehyung would react accordingly, and not like the total egotistic, childish person he is? Always having someone to blame, Taehyung holds himself to the world as immaculate, as the one who’s always the victim. 

Taehyung laughs a sadistic chuckle, slumping his body back on his seat. “Of course you’d say that.”

“Shhh! ”

“That’s literally what happened.” Jungkook gestures his hands wide when he lowers his voice. 

“Two years and you haven’t grown some balls yet, I see.” Taehyung throws daggers at him with his gaze, venom dripping off his lips. 

Jungkook could have never been more wrong. Indifferent Taehyung is not so bad. At least he doesn't say so much nonsense. Cracking Taehyung was the stupidest decision he had ever made. Nothing is worth this kind of stress. “Oh, fuck off!” Jungkook lifts the division, rage bubbling inside him, making his chest heave with how hard it is to breathe.

It’s unimaginable to make sense that this Taehyung is the same person with whom he made plans for a life together. Unthinkable to attach the same face to the person who promised to be by his side for everything, even though their worlds were so distant, even though their life together went against all the odds. 

It’s inconceivable to think this is the person that made Jungkook love . 

There was a moment after the break-up in which Jungkook missed Taehyung so much, that he got afraid of forgetting what he was like. Not only his face but his laugh, the way he gesticulated when he talked about a new, exciting role. The easiest way to not let that happen had been to look for Taehyung on social media and news outlets. 

Seeing him from afar was a relief at the same time that it was a constrict. As much as it was good to not have to forget his face, it was excruciating. Not because of what he had lost, but because of the way it made him feel alone in his own pain.

Where he had expected to find the same sadness that tinted his days, he found pure bliss. The more interviews he watched, the more social media posts he read, the more Jungkook realized  Taehyung had never been happier. 

He wonders until today how much of it he didn’t notice when they were together — of the deceiving attitude, of the narcissistic behavior, of the victim complex. 

He’s glad he can see it all now, clear as day. 

At this moment, facing Taehyung in the flesh in front of him for the first time after so long, he doesn’t understand how he could ever feel sad about losing him. 

The silence in an airplane is never silent. There’s the humming of the engine, the snoring of passengers, the loudness of Taehyung’s presence by his side. Jungkook doesn’t let the noisy silence stretch for too long.

“You know what’s funny?” He blurts out, the division still up between them.

“Oh, god!” Someone says from the opposite end of the aisle.

Taehyung doesn’t reply, but there’s movement on the other side followed by a groan. Taehyung is always loud, after all.

“You said I haven’t seen you in two years, but that’s bullshit!” He hisses in a low voice.

“What?!” 

“You’re every-fucking-where!” Jungkook answers in a tight voice, his fists clenching on his lap. “Ads, magazines, TVs, social media!” Taehyung’s shadow remains completely unmoving on the other side, and Jungkook goes on, “I’ve seen what you’re up to. New house in Hannam, the Cannes attendance, the upcoming drama next year. Brand ambassador for Celine. Parties in Gangnam with your friends, no new relationship,” Jungkook lists, his breath getting labored as he vividly remembers all the news pieces he saw in the last couple of years. “I know it all.” 

He’s shaking with anger and something that’s almost shame for admitting it all when he finishes, but it’s even worse when Taehyung’s response comes as a chuckle. 

“Not helping your case about not being obsessed with me.”

“Quiet, please!” A woman in the row in front of them spits, but Jungkook barely registers.

“You say I know nothing about your life,” Jungkook continues, and it’s really easier that the partition is lifted, that the lights are out, that he doesn’t have to be under Taehyung’s heavy gaze for this. “But I know a lot. Unlike you. ” He pauses, fingers trembling on his lap.

Jungkook’s heart rate peaks, the implication of what he said hangs heavy in the air, almost suffocating him.  The mere thought of Taehyung confessing that he’s been searching Jungkook’s name on Naver, that he has been reading the financial section of the newspaper invades him like a tidal wave. 

To realize his words took him here is as unpleasant as it is surprising.

The world didn’t let him forget about Taehyung. He needs to know that Taehyung didn’t forget him as well. 

From the other seat, Taehyung scoffs. “You think I—”

“I am sorry to interrupt gentlemen.” Seokjin appears by Taehyung’s side, clearing his throat. “Some clients are complaining you’re disrupting their quiet time.”

“Doesn’t this airline give earplugs?” Jungkook stands up to face Seokjin. He winces at his tone and attitude right away, but it’s too late.

Seokjin throws him an irritated glance, eyebrows arching at his petulancy. “It does, sir, but you’re being too loud .”

Incapable of containing his burning face, both from anger and shame, Jungkook bends himself in a ninety-degree bow. “I’m sorry, we’ll keep it down.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin says, more in a threatening tone than in a grateful one.

11 hours until landing

The quietness that ensues after Seokjin’s departure is louder than ever. Mixed with the noises of the plane, Jungkook thinks his ears will burst. His heart still beats disorderly inside him even if it’s been a solid ten minutes since he and Taehyung last exchanged a word. 

He wants to understand why the fuck it matters, why the hell it is so important to know things about Taehyung, why it is important to have him confess that he knows about Jungkook’s life too.

“Who said I’m not in a relationship?” Taehyung lowers the partition and asks in a rushed whisper like he can’t keep it inside him anymore.

Jungkook flinches at the sudden question. He meets Taehyung’s piercing eyes, staring at him in the dark.  “The media?” He murmurs, too weakly to sound confident. Looking away, Jungkook focuses on the seat in front of him.

Another flight attendant passes through the corridor, his watchful gaze weighing on them. His face is way less polite than Seokjin’s, and Taehyung leans close. A shiver runs down his spine, but it must be the glare of the scary steward. Jungkook holds his breath, and Taehyung’s question reaches his ear shell in a hot murmur, “What if I've been secretly dating?”

Jungkook’s stomach drops, and he inhales a sharp breath. Not daring to move his face — he really can’t risk brushing his nose against Taehyung’s —, he whispers, more to himself than anything, “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn't I?” There’s a bite in his tone now that makes Jungkook gulp. He shuts his eyes, the little he can see from his peripheral vision enough to unsettle every part of his being. It doesn’t make much difference, though, because even though he can’t see Taehyung, all he feels is his hot breath prickling his skin when he says, “I did it for you.” 

Jungkook swallows hard when Taehyung’s words bring an instant lump to his throat. He tries to push it down with an ironic laugh, but it comes out more as a choked sound. 

“Not being in the media doesn’t mean shit, if you know what I mean,” Taehyung adds, that scornful tone back on his voice like he just put his mask back on. 

The lump finally goes down and sinks into Jungkook’s stomach like a rock. He knows quite well what Taehyung means — he only wishes he didn’t. Showing nervousness now would be stupid, Taehyung is visibly messing with him,  but he can’t control the way his voice breaks when he asks, “So—So, are you?”

“What?” Taehyung asks confusedly in response.  

“Dating?” Jungkook's breath shudders when Taehyung takes an inhale, the noise of his lips parting to answer echoing right into his ear. He presses his lids harder, bracing himself for impact. 

“Could you two please be quiet?!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” it’s the only thing that comes out of Taehyung’s mouth. His breath fans over Jungkook’s skin one last time and he pushes away, slumping back to his seat like he was never asked a question.

10 hours until landing

Hugh Grant smiles sweetly at Julia Roberts. Jungkook has seen this movie too many times to be engrossed in it again, but here he is. Only fiction can make a celebrity falling in love with someone from a different reality sound like something that is actually possible. It makes him mad, but he also can’t help but keep his eyes glued to the screen. 

Between being uncomfortable in a small seat and stressed over the fact that this is a fucking plane hanging mid-air, watching something familiar is always welcoming. 

“Why do you want to kno— Oh!” Taehyung’s voice disrupts his trance.

He blinks at him confusedly, not having even realized the other lowered the partition once again. “What?”

Taehyung looks back and forth between him and the screen. “Are you watching Notting Hill?”

Gulping, Jungkook looks back at the movie as if to make sure he is. “Yes…”

“You hate Notting Hill.”

“No, I don’t,” Jungkook replies too fast.

Taehyung squints, looking for something in his face. Jungkook is sure he finds a whole lot because his eyes glint, probably noticing his clenched jaw and sheepish expression. “You used to complain every time we were on a plane and I made us press play in Notting Hill at the same time to watch it together.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jungkook lies blatantly.

“Yes, you did.” Taehyung scoffs, but it’s not mean this time. He sounds genuinely amused in his teasing. “You hated that the movie,” he raises his hands to air quote and proceeds in a high-pitched tone, “tricked the audience into thinking being famous and having a romance is easy.’” Taehyung drops his arms. “Complained it was unrealistic.”

Jungkook gapes at the terrible attempt of impersonating him, and replies, “Because it is!”

“Then why are you watching it?”

Heat spreads all over Jungkook’s face once again. Taehyung has no business catching him all the time doing things no one was supposed to see. Jungkook shrugs, trying to make less of it than it actually is, “It sort of became my comfort movie when flying.” 

“Oh.” The smirk on Taehyung’s face dies promptly.

Jungkook swallows hard. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he rushes to add. 

Taehyung blinks slowly, pressing his lips together for a second before he says with a straight face, “I didn’t think it did.” 

Taehyung is a good liar. He’s paid to be one, earns billions of won with his talent. This time, there are no efforts in his voice to conceal the fact that he’s not being honest. 

Jungkook pretends he doesn’t notice. 

9 hours until landing

That Taehyung would be loud during this flight was a given. His presence had been noisy even in his absence, let alone in a closed space.  

What Jungkook wasn’t counting on was Taehyung being loud even when he’s completely quiet.

The end credits roll and Jungkook barely pays attention, in his mind, Taehyung’s voice echoes:

Are you watching Notting Hill?

If Taehyung thinks Jungkook is ridiculous for watching the movie, he would be teasing him, would be having a blast making Jungkook feel embarrassed. Instead, Taehyung is mute, unmoving. Almost like he’s not even there, on the other side of the partition.

Jungkook really doesn’t want to think about it, but he can’t help but let his mind take him there. What if Taehyung is so silent because he’s thinking the same thing as Jungkook?

What if he’s also reliving their first flight together when they managed to align their schedules to go to the US at the same time? That day, Jungkook confessed without making eye contact he was scared of planes, only for Taehyung to promptly search for a movie he liked, saying watching a movie together would be helpful. Or if he’s thinking about the second time they traveled together, in a private jet to Jeju, and Taehyung downloaded Notting Hill on his iPad? The flight was short, they couldn’t even finish the movie, but he held Jungkook’s hand the entire flight. 

What if Taehyung is thinking of when Jungkook complained he wanted to watch something new, and Taehyung pouted and said it was tradition already, it couldn’t be changed. And who was Jungkook to deny him anything at that time? Or even worse, what if he’s thinking of all the times Jungkook compared Taehyung to Julia Roberts and gushed over how pretty and talented they both were. And all the times Taehyung tried to convince Jungkook was a bit of a Hugh Grant but failed at the comparison because, really, there was nothing to compare. Jungkook used to laugh at how much  Taehyung wanted their life to be a little bit like Notting Hill, no matter how much they both knew how unrealistic it was. 

If he can’t stop reliving all of that, Taehyung can’t too, right? 

He needs to believe that’s the reason Taehyung is quiet. He needs to believe he’s not the only one thinking about their past. He can’t be. It would be too much of a sign  that Jungkook is not over his ex.

Which is a lie.

Partially.

But Taehyung doesn’t need to know that. Not when he’s flying to New York to meet his secret but not-so-secret boyfriend. While Jungkook is here, still watching their movie. 

Jungkook can’t stay here, facing his past that seems too clear even in the dark. He needs to move. His legs hurt from sitting for so long and he could use a cup of coffee. It’s the middle of the night still, but it’s probably morning somewhere.

He stands up, his knees popping when he stretches his legs and he groans at the sweet relief of feeling his blood flow after so long.. He rolls his head to one side, his vertebrae cracking softly, then repeats the motion to the other side. 

It’s not his intention, but the moment he turns his head, he sees Taehyung curled up on the side of his seat, fast asleep. 

Jungkook should feel the humiliation of being the only one thinking about Taehyung, when he’s there, quiet because he’s sleeping, but instead of turning away in embarrassment, his gaze catches on the man and it lingers. 

It lingers on the mess of dark hair falling over his face, on the curve of his cheeks. It stays a long while on the pout on his lips. How can this man, who seems like a stranger today, sleep the same way he did when he was Jungkook’s?

It’s not fair that Jungkook looks at his bent knees and the way he holds the small, thin pillow close to his chest for lack of a proper body to hold, and thinks of all the times Taehyung slept exactly like this in his bed. Holding him.

The air that he sucks in is too dry and his neck strains from holding this awkward position for so long. A strange warmth spreads through his chest, and it doesn’t burn like a few hours ago, but it hurts all the time.

He can’t be here. He needs to move, more than ever.

With a lot of effort to make his sore legs work after so long seated in the same position, Jungkook passes the curtains that divide the first class from the Prestige one and finds his way to the cabin crew deck. Seokjin is there, chatting lightly with the other flight attendant, face open in a relaxed smile. The moment he sees Jungkook, he stiffens. His smile becomes pained, eyes slightly bulged as he throws a quick side glance to his colleague in silent communication.

“Uh—” Jungkook feels lost when both men share a knowing look. He scratches his neck and clears his throat. “May I have some coffee?”

“Sure.” Seokjin nods, then looks at his friend with a threatening smile. “Yoongi-ssi will serve you, right Yoongi?”

Yoongi doesn’t try to hide the grimace he throws at Seokjin, but when turns to Jungkook, he’s fostering a gummy smile. “Of course. Mr. Jeon, right? How would you like your coffee?”

“Black is good.”

“Is that all?” Yoongi asks placidly.

Jungkook nods, but then he stops abruptly. “Uh, can I also have mint tea?”

“Of course.” Yoongi smiles again. “You can go back to your seat, I can bring it to you.”

“No, that’s okay. I can take it.” Jungkook smiles with his lips pressed together, placing his hands in his pockets as he waits. Anything to keep him away from his seat a bit longer. 

Yoongi throws another weird glance at Seokjin before he proceeds to prepare the drinks.

It gets ready too fast. Jungkook is bitter that instant coffee and tea are pretty much ready-to-go drinks as he walks back with two steaming mugs in his hands.

He doesn’t use the handles, the ceramics hot against his palms. Maybe too hot, but Jungkook welcomes the sting. It helps to keep his mind busy. He drinks his coffee slowly. It tastes as horrible as ever, but, again, any different sensation is better than the weird heat inside his chest.

Jungkook finishes his coffee alone with his thoughts. The humming of the engines is all there is until he hears it, and he knows exactly when Taehyung wakes up — the noise is unmistakable. After all these years, he still knows how to recognize his tiny yawns and sleepy grunts. 

The partition goes down when he presses the button and he offers the now lukewarm mug without saying a word. 

“What is this?” Taehyung blinks heavily, rubbing the sleep of his eyes. 

“Tea,” Jungkook says when Taehyung takes the drink, brows wrinkled. “I know you like to drink lots of it before a schedule.”

“Oh.” He stares at the mug like it’s an unknown object, then looks up at Jungkook with the same confused gaze. “Thank you.” 

There’s a polite, unharmful silence between them as Taehyung finishes the drink. It’s still in the air when Seokjin shows up with wary eyes and stops by Taehyung’s side.

“Excuse me, is everything alright here?” He asks with an assertiveness that doesn’t sound like mere politeness. “Can I collect these mugs?” He points at their trays.

“Of course,” Taehyung throws him a smile when he hands his own mug.

“Thank you, Seokjin-ssi.” Jungkook bows from his seat.

The flight attendant hums pleasantly. “My pleasure,” he says when he walks away, but not before throwing a pointed glance over his shoulder to check if things are really alright.

“Jeez, he’s really keeping an eye on us,” Taehyung murmurs. 

“You should’ve seen his face when I went to get the drinks.” Jungkook snickers. “The man looked like he’d rather open the damn door and throw himself off this plane.”

With his body still slightly heavy from sleep, Taehyung shakes lazily with a laugh. 

Jungkook eyes him curiously as the giggles don’t die and Taehyung wipes the corner of his eyes. “Why are you laughing?”

Taehyung covers his mouth to hide his smile, the first genuine one Jungkook has seen in so long. “I remembered that time there was a drunk guy on our flight to Tokyo.”

“Oh god,” Jungkook groans, thumping his head back. “There wasn’t any turbulence but it was the worst flight of my life.”

The laughs fade from Taehyung's lips, and he rolls his head to the side to look at Jungkook. “Do you think we’re being as inconvenient as him?”

There’s nothing special about Taehyung’s face, but Jungkook finds himself a little entranced. Time does things to the memory, and for a moment, he can swear there’s a new mole on Taehyung’s cheek but that would be impossible. Maybe he just forgot? The thought brings an unpleasant sensation to his chest, and he ignores it, shaking his head to the side. “We’re not jumping from seat to seat or shouting,” Jungkook says. “And we’re definitely not gonna be escorted by the police once we land.” 

Taehyung smirks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. “I mean, we still have about nine hours to change that.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh, holds Taehyung’s gaze even though he knows he shouldn’t. It doesn't help that Taehyung doesn't falter, the intensity of his eyes is a bit scary in its honesty. There are no traces of sarcasm or teasing, it’s just a raw stare that sends this weird shiver down Jungkook’s spine. It makes him think of all the times they stayed exactly like this in the past, looking into each other’s eyes for minutes just because they could. Just because the silence was nice. 

It lasts maybe three seconds before something flicks in Taehyung’s eyes, covering any traces of genuineness.

“Jungkook?” Taehyung says with a familiar teasing tone. “Why do you want to know if I’m dating?”

Jungkook’s throat goes dry. Aren’t they past this topic already? “Morbid curiosity,” he says nonchalantly, but his voice comes out a little squealed.  

The scoff that leaves Taehyung’s lips is accompanied by a pointed look.

“What? It’s true!” Jungkook defends himself, raising both palms.

“You used your lying tone.”

Jungkook blinks incredulously at him. “My what now?” 

“You know I can identify it.” Taehyung rolls his eyes.

This time, Jungkook can’t help but laugh bitterly. “Oh, can you?”

Mirth grows on Taehyung’s face when he shifts in place, squaring his shoulders back. “That time you said you loved the historical drama I led?” He pauses and runs a tongue over his lip, eyes studying Jungkook way too cautiously. “You lied. You were jealous of my scenes with Han Sohee.” Jungkook gasps, but before he can defend himself, Taehyung goes on, only this time, his voice is not playful anymore. “That time I invited you to the Korea Drama Awards and you said you had a meeting with American investors? You lied, I know you were scared of being in the same public event as me.”

There’s a malice in Taehuyng’s tone as he speaks that Jungkook doesn’t quite recognize, but that makes him burn with instant shame. Jungkook wishes he would go back to teasing. He hates the teasing, but at least it’s a voice he can identify.

He wants to argue more than anything, to say it’s all untrue, just like he tried to do about the news article, about Notting Hill. But Taehyung keeps catching him on his lies over and over. And maybe that’s what he is in the end — a liar who can’t admit he’s not over his ex.

Taehyung leans slightly forward and speaks way too seriously when Jungkook just keeps gaping at him, incapable of replying. “That time when you were finally introducing me to your mother and she suddenly got sick? You lied,” he says, not skipping a beat. “And I know all that because you act cool, but your voice goes all high and nervous.” He gestures a hand at Jungkook. “Just like you did now.”    

Taehyung knows he has cornered Jungkook, yet, he doesn't look smug at all. If anything, there’s another flash of hurt on his face like his words just backfired. 

Jungkook doesn’t like feeling angry, doesn’t appreciate the way his whole face feels hot and his lids tremble as rage washes over him. But he’s not going to stay silent, letting the flames of shame and resentment lick over him. He clears his throat, puffs his chest, and gathers the rest of his dignity to say, “Funny how you’re so sure I don’t know anything about you, but the same doesn’t apply to me.” 

“You’re so infuriating.” Taehyung scoffs, running his hands over his hair.

“Me?!”

“Yes, you! You’re the one who says whatever you want, but I can never question it!” Taehyung spits, nostrils flaring. “You think you’re above everyone all the time.”

Jungkook groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Brave of you to say that when you,” he points at Taehyung, “were the one holding an entire flight!” He whisper-yells when he feels that his voice is about to get way too loud. 

“Oh, god!” Taehyung sighs exasperatedly, turning further in his seat to look at Jungkook with wild eyes. “I already said it wasn't my fault!”

“It’s never your fault, is it?” Jungkook says, a bitter laugh escaping his lips and nose. 

Taehyung’s face falters for a second and he blinks a couple of times until his expression hardens, eyebrows raising with defiance. “What are you implying?”

“Oh, you know quite well, Taehyung.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, deep and slow. “Don’t play dumb. We both know who’s the one who fails to own up to their shit here!”

The laugh that falls from Taehyung’s lips is way too loud, way too manic. “Ha! Ironic of you to say that.”

Jungkook gapes in shock, raising a threatening finger at him. “No, don’t you fucking dare say our break up was my fault!” His nails dig into the flesh of his palms when he clenches his trembling hands. 

“I wasn’t the one making us both miserable!” Taehyung doesn’t even try to deny, doesn’t bother to play dumb. He lays the words again for Jungkook, but this time, he’s not having it. 

The tiredness of this back and forth sinks deep into his bones. He never enjoys being on a plane, but especially today, he can’t stand being in this place, trapped and suffocated. In a jolt, Jungkook rises to his feet. “You know what? I’m not fucking doing this again.”

Taehyung lets out a petulant noise, but Jungkook doesn’t look back to see what his face looks like. Instead, he takes long strides towards the toilet. 

8 hours until landing

The splash of cold water hits his face like a slap. It’s not good, but definitely better than the furious burning in his chest and throat. 

He gasps for air, hands planted on the sink as he faces himself in the mirror. His lips are permanently curved down and he grips at the edge of the sink to not punch his reflection.

How stupid of him to think he could be in the same room as Taehyung after all those years and get out of it unharmed.

Hoseok’s voice in his mind was right. He should’ve kept his mouth shut.

It’s been two fucking years. The pain should’ve subsided by now, he should be able to face Taehyung and feel nothing. No rage, no hurt. Just acknowledge his presence and move on. 

Because that’s what he’s been trying to do. Move the fuck on. 

In this small, even more suffocating airplane bathroom, Taehyung’s words resonate in his mind. They blend with the ones he said to Jungkook when they broke up. In this cramped space, the sound of them overlaps in his mind, hangs in this stale air around him, ringing in his ears alongside the annoying hum of the plane. 

He did not forget them in these two years they were apart, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget them. He’s just tired of trying to make sense of what they mean. Jungkook knows his flaws, but he also knows he’s tried so fucking hard to keep what they had. 

The audacity to blame Jungkook when Taehyung was the one who chose to go away makes his skin prickle hot. Taehyung knew about the conditions of their relationship, he agreed to move at a slower pace. At the right pace for both of them. But of course things would change once his career kicked off faster than expected. Of course he wouldn’t bear to wait for others to catch up. The world, after all, was at his feet.

Jungkook drops his head to his chin, still trying to suck the air into his lungs but it’s thick. It’s hard to fill his lungs when his chest is already full of resentment and anger. Feelings he didn’t know were locked inside until today. Until Taehyung made sure to show up again and blame Jungkook for the promise he couldn’t keep. 

It must be fucking great to be so high up on a pedestal that you can’t even notice how unfair your own words sound. That you don’t notice how deep they really cut. 

He yanks the paper towels, rubbing them roughly over his face. For a logical person, Jungkook surely has been acting irrationally all night. He has no control over his mouth, much less over his heart. All he wants to do is scream at Taehyung’s face, make him break in the same way he broke Jungkook all those years ago. 

In the same way he’s been breaking him tonight.

The wall is cold when he leans back, pushing himself away from the sink. He forces another breath in to help his nerves settle. It lasts for two or three breaths until a loud knock makes the door tremble. He jolts, all the feeble calm fading from his body when a rushed whisper comes from the other side.

“Jungkook, are you there?”

His eyes go wide. Not in surprise, though. Jungkook is past that with Taehyung. He’s fully outraged. This is the only place in this fucking plane he can be by himself, but of course Taehyung won’t leave him alone. He never did, not even when they were miles apart.

“What do you want?” Jungkook does nothing but hisses.

“Let me in,” Taehyung whines. 

“Are you insane?” 

The door shakes once again. “Seokjin-ssi will show up soon, let me in.” 

Cursing between his gritted teeth, Jungkook flicks the handle, opening the door. The lights go off as soon as it slides open, and Taehyung bursts into the small bathroom without missing a beat.

“What the fuck are—” 

His words die on his tongue when Taehyung shoves his chest, pushing him back. His calves hit the toilet seat and Jungkook has to palm the wall to balance himself.

“If you think you’re gonna have the final word, you’re the insane one here,” he spits at Jungkook’s face. Fumbling with his hands, he turns back and closes the doors again, bringing the light back to the bathroom.

Taehyung's eyes are always intense, perhaps the result of years of trying to lure the audience into believing in his characters. Tonight, the intensity is different, it’s almost wild. Maybe it’s the poor light casting a hard shadow over his face, but his gaze is darker and sharper, matching the tone of his words.

“Oh, now you’re mad?” Jungkook scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest to protect himself from another hit.

“No, Jungkook.” Taehyung chuckles bitterly, looking at him like he can’t believe Jungkook’s words. “I’ve been fucking mad since I saw your fucking face on this plane.” He stops, splaying his palms in front of him and shaking them. “No, I’ve been fucking mad since we were together.” He gestures wildly, hands hitting the sink, but he doesn’t seem to acknowledge the impact. “Since I realized all that you cared about was your fucking job!”

The bathroom is too small for this. The words ricochet on the walls and hit Jungkook square in the chest. He gasps, taking a small step forward, not cowering when Taehyung seems to be towering over him. “It’s so hypocritical of you to say that when your career is just as important to you!” He presses a finger on Taehyung’s chest. It takes an infinite second to realize what he’s doing. With widened eyes, he retracts his hand like he’s been burnt, clenching his fingers.

Out of all the things that are going wrong on this flight, this is the one that throws Jungkook off his axis the most. The rage flares down, it gives space to something heavier, something that forms a lump in his throat. 

This is not how he imagined he would be touching Taehyung for the first time in two years. This is not how he wanted to touch Taehyung for the first time in two years. 

“I don't put my career first all the time.”

“This is so unfair, Taehyung.” Jungkook shakes his head and frowns, letting his words come out more tired than mad. 

It feels like they had this conversation already.

“Is it, Jungkook?” He asks, matching his lower tone, but keeping his voice charged with too much hurt to not swat Jungkook right across his face. “Isn’t that what you’ve done the whole time we were together? Put your career in front of everything else?”

Sighing, Jungkook presses the heels of his palms to his eyelids. His face twists when he looks at Taehyung’s red, raged face. “You knew from the beginning I was trying to become CEO,” Jungkook affirms. “Back then, there were things I needed to compromise to get what I wanted. And this,” Jungkook swirls one finger in the air to indicate them, although there is no them anymore.  “This was a compromise we both agreed on.”

Taehyung blinks blankly, mouth hanging open in incredulity. “We were together for three years, Jungkook.” Taehyung raises all three fingers in the air as if to make it clear as if Jungkook is dumb for saying what he just said. “We kept everything a secret the whole time because of your career. I agreed to it because it was temporary . It was just until you became CEO.” Taehyung’s hands fall limply on his sides, eyes dropping alongside his arms. “It ended up being everything we had!” 

Possessed by something that he can’t name, but that flares up his entire body, Jungkook takes another step forward, invading Taehyung’s space, and shoults louder than he wanted, “Yes, because you fucking left! You didn’t even wait!” 

“I waited three fucking years!” Taehyung yells back. His eyes are wet and wide, but nothing falls from them. Is this just another acting trick? “Do you know what it felt like? To live a fucking lie every day?” He asks, arms spreading to the side again. “I was fucking miserable!” 

It’s foolish to think exposure to something unpleasant makes your skin thicker. Right now, hearing the words for the third time only cuts Jungkook deeper. It’s fucking deja vu, only a thousand times worse because, this time, they’re two years late for this. 

It’s a suffocating feeling to carry around for so long, the one of being responsible for someone’s misery. 

Hearing the love of your life yelling at the top of his lungs that you make his life miserable is something that leaves unhealable wounds. But hearing the person who’s a resemblance to the one you loved the most once repeating it again years later only reopens poorly stitched cuts. 

Jungkook’s face crumbles, he tries to hold himself together. He tries to not let these words break him like they did the first time. His hands curl into fists, and he says through his gritted jaw, “I know I made you miserable already, you don’t have to keep repeating it!”

The sharpness on Taehyung’s face falters, and he takes a small step back. “What?”

Jungkook closes his eyes, sighing heavily. He wishes he could push out all the air of his lungs, wish it could empty his chest of everything so it stopped hurting for a single second. “That’s what you said when we broke up. You said I made your life miserable and you couldn’t stand me anymore.”

“Of course I was miserable, Jungkook!” Taehyung squeals, launching forward again with his hands ready to grab something. He gives up the moment he’s ready to touch Jungkook’s chest, folding his arms around himself instead. There’s something in his face that is different, it’s too similar to pleading, to pure desperation. “Our life was all about your pace, your priorities, your wishes! I lived to wait for you to get the fucking promotion—”

“And when I finally got promoted you fucking dumped me!” Jungkook interrupts, voice getting high pitched in a similar agony that Taehyung shows in his eyes. 

“And you got promoted and never came after me!” Taehyung yells back.

Jungkook halts, almost jolting up in surprise at Taehyung’s words. “I wha— Oh! Fuck!” 

The bathroom trembles entirely, the airplane losing its stance in the air. Jungkook palms the wall for support, but his heart rate peaks up tremendously, almost like the instability comes from inside him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re flying through a turbulent area,” the captain's soothing voice echoes from the speakers inside the bathroom. “For your own safety, please return to your seats and keep your seatbelts fastened.” 

“Oh, fucking great!” Jungkook hisses, sweat clinging to his back as the aircraft shakes again. His knuckles go white against the wall in an attempt to grip it better. It’s useless and only makes his breathing more labored. 

He should be used to it by now. Flying is something he does almost monthly, but turbulence is never something he’ll feel okay facing. Logically, he knows planes don’t crash because of turbulence, but life has been proving Jungkook is not as rational as he likes to think he is. 

The sour taste of panic rises through Jungkook’s throat as he pushes Taehyung to the side to get out of this bathroom. If it was suffocating before, now it’s ten times worse.

“Jungkook, wait!” Taehyung says, but he’s already taking wide strides to his seat.

He fastens the seat belt too tightly, it makes everything even more uncomfortable, but he hopes the squeezing sensation on his lower belly distracts him from the ringing in his ears.

Another violent shake and Jungkook drops his head forward, gasping for air at the same time his stomach drops. 

His skin feels prickling hot, and he opens the third button of his shirt to make room for air. He repeats in his mind turbulence does not cause plane crashes, turbulence does not cause plane crashes.

It’s all too warm around him as he chants his personal mantra, but suddenly, something cold hits the burning skin of his nape. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook jolts back up with widened eyes when the chilly press of a hand doesn't move. 

Taehyung mimics his bugged eyes but doesn’t let go of him. “You’re panicking, I’m helping.” His fingers dig deeper into Jungkook’s hair, caressing softly. 

Jungkook wants nothing but to brush the touch away, but he hates to admit it is in fact helping. It has always helped. The next time his stomach swoops, it’s not as unpleasant as before. Something inside him flutters at the fact that Taehyung hasn’t forgotten it, but it’s muted by the rising panic inside his chest.

“Breathe with me, yeah?” Taehyung says, leaning over the armrest to murmur in a low, soothing voice. 

Jungkook screws his eyes shut, nods repeatedly as he pulls the air in until his lungs burn. It’s all confusing with the trembling plane and the ringing in his ear, but he knows Taehyung is taking deep breaths alongside him. His long fingers caress Jungkook’s nape gingerly as he inhales, and as he pushes the air out, his body already feels less heavy.

“Good, one more time.” 

He absolutely hates Taehyung’s calming voice, hates the way his touch is calm and steady, hates that he breathes alongside Jungkook like he always did even though he doesn’t need to. Moreover, he hates that everything Taehyung is doing is, in fact, helping. 

As the panic starts to dissipate, Jungkook regains awareness of his body as it is. He doesn’t feel the hot, tingly waves of panic. No. Jungkook feels his feet planted to the floor, he senses how tense his fingers are balled into fists and releases them one by one. He perceives the soothing way Taehyung’s slender fingers rub the skin of his nape, playing with the long locks. 

Every touch sends these small shivers down his spine that distract him from the sour taste that keeps rising through his throat every time the plane shakes. Instead of being hot with fear, the firm hand on his neck makes Jungkook warm all over. 

“Your hair is longer,” Taehyung says, absentminded. It’s not more than a whisper, maybe more to himself than for Jungkook to hear, but all of Jungkook’s senses are tuned to him now. 

He simply hums, still not finding it in himself to talk as the plane starts to get steady again. 

“You never let it grow when we were together,” Taehyung adds, matter of fact. 

Frowning, Jungkook turns his head to face him and finds Taehyung’s eyes wandering through his face curiously. “I told you. I had to compromise things back then,” Jungkook replies in a hoarse voice, completely enveloped by whatever bubble that’s been created around them. There’s no rage, no accusation, no teasing. Just raw, honest words for the first time in so long. If the softness of Taehyung’s expression and the openness of his gaze cause a funny sensation inside Jungkook, he blames it on the adrenaline running through his veins. “Now I don’t have to compromise them anymore.”

Jungkook knows all the weight his words carry. He swears he can hear Taehyung swallowing hard even over the noise of the engines. There’s a small wrinkle in the middle of his forehead, an intensity of his gaze when he searches for something as if the words Jungkook just shared are hanging in between them. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to blink, afraid that, if he does, Taehyung’s face will morph into pure rage again. 

It’s unfortunate when he has to, eyes hurting from hanging open for too long. When he flutters his lashes, the sound of the alarm to unfasten the seat belts rings promptly.  

Taehyung clears his throat, taking his hand off Jungkook’s nape. He straightens his shoulders, looking around in search of nothing.  

The lack of cooling hands in Jungkook’s skin is what startles him for real, and he looks up to see the seatbelt sign off. He blinks repeatedly, cleaning his sweaty palms over his slacks. “Thank you,” he says, darting his eyes to his feet. 

From his side vision, he notices Taehyung frowning when he nods repeatedly. “No problem.”

Neither of them lifts the partition, but the silence that ensues is so heavy that it might as well be a solid wall between them. The longer it grows, the bigger it gets the weird ache in Jungkook’s chest.

7 hours until landing 

Jungkook keeps his eyes closed for safety. He’s not sleeping, and he won’t sleep. That’s not a thing he does during flights. He’s simply afraid that if he flutters his lashes open, his gaze will go directly to Taehyung. 

Even in the darkness of his own lids, Jungkook knows Taehyung’s been stealing glances. He can hear how much he’s been moving, can feel the weight of his gaze burning his skin. 

It’s unbearable alongside the weight of Taehyung’s last words swimming around his brain, repeated in the same rhythm as Jungkook’s unsteady heartbeat. 

You got promoted and never came after me!

It’s not like Jungkook didn’t think about it, of course he fucking did. Every night,  laying his head on the pillow in an empty, cold bed, he thought about what it would be like if he called, if he knocked on Taehyung’s door in the middle of the night if he fell to his knees and begged for a second chance. Begging has never been a problem for him anyway. 

But every time he did so, it was accompanied by endless questions. Why would he go after Taehyung if he was the one who broke things off? Why would he beg for another change if Taehyung made it clear Jungkook made his life miserable? Why would he humiliate himself if he wasn’t the one to blame?

It doesn’t make sense what he said just now. It doesn’t make sense that he waited two years to blurt that out. Maybe it’s the emotions, the anger, and the pain talking. Maybe Taehyung’s just messing with Jungkook, to see if he can fuck his feelings up even more. God knows he can be this low.

Breathing in the darkness of a steady plane is easier, but it’s not refreshing. It doesn't ease the weight pressing his heart against his ribcage. His hands curl on the blanket, bringing it close to his chin. There’s hesitancy in his voice when he says, “Taehyung?” There’s no reply, but he knows the other is listening, so he goes on anyway, “What do you mean when you say I didn’t come after you?”

The silence stretches, the steady hum of the engines mixing with the ring of his own heart in his ears. After a while,  Jungkook doesn’t think Taehyung will answer.  

He keeps his eyes closed, it’s also easier to deal with rejection this way. He wonders if he had closed his eyes when they broke up it would’ve been easier, too. To not see Taehyung’s face contorted in anger and hurt, to be unaware of the pain crossing his eyes. To not remember the exact way he looked like two years ago, right before he closed the door behind him and never looked back. 

A shaky breath comes out from his side, followed by shifting. Taehyung must be gathering his thoughts, and the mere idea of knowing what it means has Jungkook’s insides churning even though that’s literally what he asked for.

“I’ve waited. Hm—” Taehyung falters. Another long deep breath in and out, and Jungkook starts chewing his lips nervously. “I waited for you to get back to me after you got promoted. It was— It was stupid to assume you would.”

The answer startles Jungkook in its simplicity. It lacks hate and anger, but it floods with resentment. 

Jungkook frowns, finally daring to open his eyes. In the weirdly dark blue light of the plane, Taehyung’s face is a hard thing to take in. His lower lip chewed raw, his brows pushed together. There’s nothing youthful in his features now. 

Jungkook hates the sight, but he’s sure his own expression offers the same emotions. 

“Ho—How? You told me you were sick of me.” Jungkook frowns even deeper. 

“Jungkook.” Taehyung rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. “We both said pretty bad stuff when we broke up.”

Jungkook sighs tiredly. “No,” he says firmly and Taehyung looks incredulously at him. “You said bad stuff while I tried to convince you to stay.”

“Seriously?” Taehyung huffs, lips curved all the way down. “It’s been two years and you still don’t think about our part in the breakup?”

“Which part, Taehyung?” Jungkook’s voice threatens to rise, but he pauses, keeping it in a low but rushed murmur. “While you plotted the breakup, I was ready to live my entire life with you.”

“Yeah? And how did you plan on doing that while keeping us a secret?” Taehyung accuses, he barely blinks and his eyes look a bit manic, devoid of emotion at the same time they seem to carry all of them. He looks down at his lap, fumbles with the seatbelt to unfasten it. When he clicks it open, he moves hastily to face Jungkook. “Tell me how? We would be seventy and your family would still think you were single? Trying to marry you to some woman?” For such a low tone, the words come out too loud, too sharp.

Jungkook wishes this was only tiresome, but the more they run in circles, he realizes this is way too painful to endure.  The only thing they’re getting out of this back and forth is the reopening of poorly mended wounds. Jungkook can’t stand looking at them anymore. 

He rubs his cheeks with both palms, dragging them down until it pulls the sensitive skin with it. “Stop being so clueless, please. You knew it would all change when I got the promotion.”

“Did I really?” Taehyung whispers. There’s a hint of cynicism in his tone that ripples through Jungkook like blades.

Has he doubted Jungkook this whole time? Isn’t a relationship supposed to be built on trust?

Desperation seeps through his voice as he tries to convince Taehyung of something he’s two years late for. “Of course you did. I told you so many times.” The back of Jungkook’s eyes hurt, this sharp, nasty pain that he hasn’t felt in too long. His lips tremble but he presses his mouth in a thin line to control his emotions. He can’t fucking cry right now. “Please, don’t accuse me of never going after you when you were the one who chose the leave,” he says, words coming out way more vulnerable than intended.

Taehyung shakes his head and releases a long, deep sigh. “You said it like you gave me an option.” 

The lack of bitterness in his tone startles Jungkook more than a yell would. Jungkook is not the only one tired, he’s not the only one hurt. It’s with a heart heavy with hopelessness and sorrow that he realizes there’s no point in being angry or annoyed at Taehyung anymore. 

It won’t change anything. 

Releasing a defeated sigh, Jungkook looks dead into Taehyung’s eyes. “You said that like I had an option.” He chews his inner cheek, shakes his head over and over. “How could I do it when you said what you said? How could I go after you when every interview you gave was a confirmation that your life was better without me?”

“Wha—What?” Confusion flashes in Taehyung’s hurt eyes.

“I’ve seen them all, Taehyung,” he admits. He should be ashamed, but Jungkook feels so exhausted he doesn’t have the strength to hide it anymore. “You were always vocal about how things were great for you, I could see it in your face. How could I go after you if you looked so… happy?” 

For the first time tonight, Taehyung looks like he doesn’t know what to say. His mouth hangs open for a long while, then he leans forward. “You saw my interviews and thought I was happy ?”

“Uh.” Jungkook blinks at him. “Yes?”

An uncontrollable laugh bubbles in Taehyung’s mouth. It’s so loud he has to slap his hand over his lips to not draw attention to them.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook frowns.

“Oh my God.” Taehyung throws himself back on the seat, lifting his arms up and resting the back of his hands on his forehead. His chest heaves with the remains of a laugh, and Jungkook grows equally annoyed and confused. “It’s so ironic that I didn’t want my own life to be as fake as the ones I interpreted on the screen, but that’s all I ever did.” He drops his hands and rolls his head to the side.  “I broke up thinking it would change that, thinking I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore, but I kept doing the exact same thing this whole time.” 

Jungkook stares back at him for what it feels like hours. The whole plane dissolves around him as his body stiffens in his seat. 

What did Taehyung just say?

His heart pumps too strongly, too loudly it makes his ears ring. It’s not possible. Jungkook has seen with his own eyes all the laughs Taehyung has shown on TV, all the comments he made about being happy, being in his healing era , or whatever.

Was all that acting? He is good, Jungkook knows he’s an excellent actor but…

His whole body buzzes with the possibility, the faint chance of everything being different from what he imagined. 

“You what?” It’s dumb, and he looks dumb with his mouth hanging open, but that’s all Jungkook manages to say and he counts it as a win.

Taehyung chuckles, dropping his chin to his chest to hide his face. It’s unusual. Taehyung is never embarrassed, it is not something he’s capable of. He faces all discomfort and awkward situations with grace.

Something awakens inside Jungkook. It’s strong and powerful like the previous anger, except it’s not bad. It doesn’t make him burn. It’s an intense pull that sets him in motion. 

Without waiting for Taehyung’s answer, Jungkook rises to his feet and leaps over the division of their seats, stumbling his way to the other side ungraciously. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Taehyung flinches, spreading his legs to make room for Jungkook, who steps over his discarded shoes and almost falls. “Seokjin-ssi will see.”

But Jungkook doesn’t listen. His heart is pumping too loud in his ears, he has more important things to worry about than Seokjin coming to complain about them one more time.

Jungkook’s erratic heart leaps in his chest when he sees kilometers of golden legs sprawling open in front of him as Taehyung adjusts on the seat. He looks up at Jungkook, eyes wide with confusion and something else. 

For a second, all Jungkook can do is stare back and forth between his legs and his eyes. And just like this, he is trapped in the spell. Not that Taehyung is making an effort, but he never had to with Jungkook anyway. 

It takes some strength to refocus, to look into Taehyung’s eyes and keep himself there. “Answer me, Taehyung,” he demands, voice coming harsher than he intended. 

Taehyung looks around nervously, then he reaches forward to fist at Jungkook’s shirt and pulls him down until he drops to his knees. The movement is stronger than expected, forcing Jungkook forward. He has to lean both palms on the seat, right beside Taehyung’s thighs to balance himself. “Stop making a scene,” Taehyung hisses.

His hot breath fans over Jungkook’s face, knocking the air out of his lungs. Mint and sleep mixed together in what should be gross but to Jungkook it will never be. The proximity is different from the previous ones they shared on the flight. Now, Jungkook can see all of Taehyung’s features up close and can feel the skin of Taehyung’s legs irradiating warmth on his thumbs, one flex of them and they would be touching. 

“Taehyung, please tell me I’m imagining things here,” he says, forcing his eyes to not drop to Taehyung’s mouth. He knows how dangerous it would be and this is not the moment to be in danger. “Tell me you were happy for real. Tell me all this time you were fine, and you’re still fine because you despise me. Because you can’t stand me. Tell me I wasn’t wrong this whole time.”

Jungkook doesn’t know why he begs like this, why he pleads for Taehyung to convince him he has been right all this time. Especially when being right feels awful. But if he’s wrong, then all this time, all the suffering— He can’t barely make himself think of it. 

Taehyung’s grip on his shirt loosens, but he doesn’t let go. His eyes soften, his voice nothing more than a murmur when he says, “You’re not imagining things, Jungkook.” Taehyung smiles, but it’s heartbreakingly sad. “I wasn’t happy.” He sighs.  “I haven’t been happy for a while.”

“But—” Jungkook gulps, eyes trying to search for the lie in Taehyung’s face. His stomach twists inside him one more time when he can’t find any traces of deceit. He frowns. “It’s been two years. Two years in which I thought you were better off without me.” He shakes his head, hands clenching on each side of the seat, urging to touch. Something burns inside him, and this time, it is not anger. His head spins at all the new information, the truth falling over him like a waterfall. Crushing and refreshing at the same time. “If you weren’t happy, then…?”

“Does it change anything, Jungkook?” Taehyung says, tiredly, hand slipping from his shirt. 

“It changes everything, Taehyung.” Jungkook inhales sharply. “It changes every-fucking-thing.”

Taehyung looks at him confused, shoulders rising in expectation. “What do you mean?”

The words bubble on Jungkook’s tongue as his chest rises and falls. His breath becomes labored, too erratic like he just ran a marathon but it’s pure, raw adrenaline running through his veins. “I thought about going after you so many times Taehyung, fuck—” He blurts out, screwing his eyes shut for a second. “I thought about a million ways I could get you back, but what always stopped me was the idea that you despise me. Then, seeing you happy on screen only confirmed that I had made the right choice by giving up.” 

Taehyung’s face crumbles, eyes going desperately huge as the information dawns on him. When the words seem to finally make sense in his mind, Taheyung reaches both hands to fist Jungkook’s shirt again, bringing him an inch closer.

“How can you be so smart for business and so dumb for other stuff?” He asks, gasping for air like his own heart is also working overdrive. “Did you really believe I despised you? For real?”

“You’re a good actor!” Jungkook retorts with a serious face that crumbles in seconds when Taehyung laughs. 

It doesn’t take long for his expression to become stern again. “I could never,” Taehyung says earnestly. He licks his lips to gain time, way too slowly, and Jungkook is a weak, weak man because his eyes drop instantly to watch the tip of his tongue, pink against his smooth lips. “I was hurt and wanted to believe I would be better off without you.”

Jungkook’s heart threatens to burst from his chest, but he takes a deep breath in. It’s too much to hear it all and to look at Taehyung’s face so closely at the same time. He has to shut his eyes for a brief moment, just to manage to say something coherent. “What does all that mean?” 

The airplane shakes, but Jungkook fully ignores it this time. With how much his own body is trembling, it might as well come from his own core. 

“I don’t know but—” Taehyung stops, biting his lower lip. “I could never stop thinking about you in the past two years, and that must mean something.”

There’s a small, tentative smile on his lips that Jungkook mimics. He releases a long breath, feeling his chest flutter. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

The confession hangs around them for a while. It’s so strange for Jungkook to admit it out loud, to finally face what’s been inside him this whole time. Nothing is granted, but to hear Taehyung feel the same floods him with inevitable relief. 

Taehyung breathes out a shaky exhale, fingers clutching his shirt to bring him a little bit closer. It’s a dangerous move, one that makes Jungkook too aware of Taehyung’s body. He dares to open his eyes again, gaze lingering on the exposed collarbones, the flexed arms. When he looks down and sees Taehyung’s legs sprawled just for him to fit it between them, Jungkook gulps.

It’s been so long since he had Taehyung like this. Fully open, just for him. 

Out of all the sensations Jungkook has faced since boarding this plane, the coiling heat settling on the base of his stomach is the strongest so far. Jungkook sucks his lips inside his mouth, hands itching as he wonders if Taehyung’s thighs are still as firm and smooth to the touch as they used to be.

His restlessness doesn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung. He leans forward, hooking two fingers under Jungkook's chin to force his gaze up.  “Jungkook…”

It’s a mix of a pleading, a question, a statement. If Jungkook hadn’t knelt already, to hear his name being enunciated like this would bring him to his knees for Taehyung right now.

Taehyung calls him again when Jungkook doesn’t reply, a little bit more dragged this time. In his lower belly, heat blends with relief. To hear his name like this, detached from hurt or anger clears his mind at the same time it makes him dizzy. 

“Hm?” He replies, shifting forward instinctively, his stomach hitting the edge of Taehyung’s seat. 

Taehyung’s voice drops, and he says airly, “I have a feeling there’s something else you haven’t stopped thinking about.”

Jungkook’s face burns. With his teeth sunken into his lower lip, he nods. He knows Taehyung wants his words, but he can’t. They’re stuck in his throat as desire and shame burn through him. 

The hot feeling in his groin overpowers everything, and Jungkook loses control of his hands. His fingers brush the sides of Taehyung’s leg. It’s a feather-like touch, but the actor flinches, mouth hanging open when he gasps. Tentatively, Jungkook touches him again, a little firmer this time, only to feel Taehyung opening his legs even further to press them against his prints. 

“I knew it,” Taehyung tries to seem unbothered, but his voice cracks when Jungkook ranks his palms over the top of his legs. His eyes darken, lowering to Jungkook’s chest as he bites his lips suggestively. “To be honest, it’s been fucking hard to pay attention to anything when there are so many buttons of your shirt undone”

“Oh.” Jungkook blinks blankly, mouth going dry at the sight of Taehyung's hungry gaze over him. 

Taehyung’s fingers lower to the next button, playing with it. The perspective of him opening it in the middle of the plane has Jungkook buzzing with anticipation, the growing arousal only getting more intense.

The air feels thick on his nostrils, probably the result of having Taehyung’s hot breath mixed with his own exhale. 

This is the moment Jungkook should use a bit of rationality. There’s so much to talk about, so much to unwrap, but it’s so hard when Taehyung’s dark, wanting gaze seems ready to devour him and his pink lips look so, so soft

It’s not like his rational side has been winning tonight anyway.

He feels Taehyung’s gaze wandering back and forth his eyes and his mouth, as if trying to resist. Jungkook wants to laugh he’s even considering it by now. It’s in his second nature to gravitate towards Taehyung, even after all this time apart. There’s no point in resisting. So when he leans forward, eyes locked on Taehyung’s mouth, attentively watching how it parts instantly as he approaches, there’s nothing in his mind but how his lips will taste against his again.

“Is everything alright here?” Seokjin’s voice echoes in his ears abruptly. 

Jungkook jumps back, hitting the front seat, at the same time he pushes Taehyung away like he was burnt. 

“Ouch!” His head throbs when it hits the hard plastic. He rubs the sore spot, looking up at Seokjin with widened eyes. 

“Yes,” Taehyung affirms, not offering any explanation.

Jungkook clears his throat, smoothing a hand over his wrinkled shirt. He ignores that half of it is unbuttoned. If he pays too much attention to it, Seokjin will too, although he’s already sizing Jungkook up with arched eyebrows. “I was just looking for my phone,” he explains dumbly.

As if possible, Seokjin raises his brows even further, incredulity and annoyance visible on his face. He points a finger at Jungkook’s empty seat. “It’s on your seat, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook stretches his neck to look at it, then turns back to Seokjin. His mouth hangs open as he tries to appear convincing but fails miserably. 

In front of him, Taehyung doesn’t help by letting out fucking giggle .

“Ah, right,” Jungkook plays dumb, smacking a hand over his forehead as if to say silly me. “ Of course.”

“Please sir, return to your seat.” Seokjin throws him a pointed glance and sighs. “I’m not paid well enough for this shit,” he mutters as he turns on his heels and walks away. 

Jungkook stands up like he’s catching fire between his face burning in embarrassment and his stomach churning with arousal.

Before he can throw the first leg over the division to go back to his seat, Taehyung pulls him back by the collar of his shirt again, whispering dangerously close to his mouth, “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.” 

6 hours until landing

“Are you insane?” Is the first thing he asks when the foldable door opens and Taehyung yanks him inside by his arm.

There’s no time to think before his back hits the wall, Taehyung towering over him, his body too close to be true.

“I fucking am,” he says, both palms pressing against Jungkook’s chest. His hooded eyes drop to Jungkook’s mouth, then back to his eyes. “It’s been two years.” 

Jungkook swallows hard, realizing he’s already parched just from a glance. “Two years is a long time,” he says dumbly. 

“It is,” Taehyung murmurs too closely.

The breath Jungkook is about to release gets stuck in his lungs when Taehyung leans closer, his lips millimeters away from touching him. Jungkook presses his palms on the cold wall, unsure of how to act.

Two years is indeed a long time.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to share the same hesitancy. His hands keep holding Jungkook’s chest firmly. He ducks his head to the side, and inhales sharply right before  whispering against his ear, “Your smell is still the same.”

His body always reacted to Taehyung in the most different ways. It used to infuriate Jungkook to never know how to predict if an embarrassing noise would come out of him or if his hands would stay steady. After so long, it’s just as much a relief as it is scary to notice nothing has changed. 

His breath stutters, coming out short when Taehyung nuzzles behind his ear. “Yeah?” He manages to say, but it comes out broken. 

A small laugh fans over the sensitive skin of his neck when Taehyung drops his face just a bit, almost hiding in Jungkook’s neck. He pulls back to face Jungkook, lips trapped between his teeth when he goes on, “You still feel the same, too.” He ranks his hands up and down Jungkook’s torso, palming hard at his pecs and obliques. “Gosh, I dreamed about touching these again.” 

An embarrassing noise falls from Jungkook’s lips at the touch. It burns through the fabric of his shirt. He looks down, the sight of Taehyung’s long fingers squeezing him makes heat coil inside him. It’s more than he had in the past two years, but as Taehyung works his hands on him, he realizes it’s not enough. 

Abruptly, Taehyung stops, hands tensing on his waist. “Did you really think about me too?”

It’s not an insecure question, but the grip Taehyung has on him reveals the urgency of his inquiry. Jungkook gulps, finally meeting his gaze again. It’s so dark he thinks he’ll be trapped by the intensity of it forever. The swirl of arousal grows hot inside him. He has always loved this side of Taehyung. Demanding, bossy, rough. The opposite of his delicate features. 

“Yes,” he finally says in an airy voice.

“Tell me.” Taehyung bites his lower lip, thumbs rubbing circles on Jungkook’s abs as he inspects every inch of his face. “Tell me what you thought.”

Jungkook’s cheeks heat with the embarrassment of being put on display. He screws his eyes shut and thumps his head back on the wall. “I thought about you— Your face. Your body.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung hums in contentment. “What did you think about my body?”

His breath becomes labored at the mere question. Taehyung’s voice is not more than a whisper, but it’s so charged that Jungkook feels everything inside him twisting. His hands burn against the wall, empty and trembling. “Taehyung…”

“You didn’t answer me,” Taehyung demands, shifting in place. A whine catches in the back of Jungkook’s throat when he places a leg in between his, forcing his thighs to part.

“I thought about— I thought about how your body feels against mine.”

“Like this?” Taehyung asks, swiftly grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the wall beside his head. The motion takes Jungkook by surprise, but he can barely make sense of it when Taehyung presses his whole body against his own.

“ Shit , yeah.” He pants, ducking his head back down.

Taehyung is already there to catch his eyes, his own gaze hungry. The heat his body emanates is intense. There’s nothing but want in the precise way he moves, pressing his leg lightly against Jungkook’s crotch. It’s not enough to give him any relief, but it’s sufficient to earn a small whimper from Jungkook.  

“When did you think about that?” He asks. “About my body against yours?”

Jungkook gulps dryly, nervousness buzzing in his veins alongside want. He’s waited two years for this. Two fucking years to have Taehyung looking at him like this again, to have his hands all over him again. To have all his senses taken by Taehyung. 

“I thought about it when—” He inhales sharply, the words getting stuck in his throat. It’s been so long since they first met, and Jungkook still turns into a mess when Taehyung acts like this. Like there’s not an ounce of innocence in his body. His fingers curl into fists, the grip Taehyung has on his wrists is not firm enough. He can break it and pull Taehyung even closer if he wants to. And oh, how much he does, but Jungkook knows better. “I thought about it when I was touching myself.”

A hoarse groan escapes Taehyung’s throat. “Fuck, Jungkook-ah.” His tongue flicks between his lips, a calculated look on his hooded eyes. Just from his stare, Jungkook already knows he’s at his mercy. “Did I make you feel good?”

His whole body buzzes with arousal when Taehyung presses his leg against his hardening cock for real, offering a small relief. “Yeah— shit, so fucking good. You always do.”

As fast as he offers it, Taehyung takes it away. He retracts his leg, but Jungkook chases it with his hips, a whine catching in his throat.

A mirthful smile spreads across Taehyung's face. “How?” He asks. “How did I make you feel good?”

“Your mouth,” Jungkook replies right away, gasping for air when Taehyung’s hands slip from his wrists to his forearms, fingers digging into his skin. “Your fingers. Your—”

Taehyung leans closer, humming as his mouth traces over Jungkook’s jaw. “Hm, good to know I wasn’t the only one.”

“Taehyung…”

“Yes?” He answers, voice charged, lips reaching the side of Jungkook’s mouth. The warmth is there, but the touch is not yet. 

“Please…” Jungkook pleads, breath labored. His mouth part, just waiting for Taehyung to finally give him what he needs. 

“You want my mouth,” he drags his lower lip over Jungkook’s chin, too damn close, “or do you want my fingers first?” His grip on Jungkook’s forearm loosens and he trails the veins of Jungkook’s arm with his prints.

Goosebumps erupt all over Jungkook’s skin, and anything would be good after so long. He’s willing to take whatever Taehyung wants to give him. But there’s one thing he’s been craving more than ever. “Your mouth,” he says, staring at Taehyung’s lips. “Kiss me.”

As bossy and demanding as Taehyung can be, he never knew how to say no to Jungkook’s pleadings.

His hands slide from Jungkook’s arms and hold him by the jaw when he moves forward, clashing their lips together.

All the heat simmering in Jungkook’s body bursts in a loud, surrendering moan when he finally feels Taehyung’s warm lips against his. His hands fumble to his waist, fingers digging and squeezing as he pulls Taehyung as close as possible.

Two years is a very, very long time. 

It’s long enough to accumulate extensive amounts of yearning and sorrow. It’s long enough to make good memories foggy, to distort the idea of the person who hurt you the most. To make them look awful, petty, rude. It’s long enough to drench you in pain and make your body dormant.

Two years might be a long time, but as Taehyung’s mouth moves against his, deepening the kiss, Jungkook realizes it was never enough to make him forget this . The sweet taste of Taehyung’s tongue, the way his fingers press over his skin, with intent but never harsh. The way Taehyung lets out small noises when he kisses, the way his body searches for Jungkook’s the same way Jungkook searches for his.

Each of Taehyung’s touches unlocks memories that were shadowed by the pain. When Taehyung pulls his lower lip into his mouth, Jungkook remembers their first kiss, the one Jungkook was brave enough to ask for, in the emergency staircase, hidden from all the guests of the fundraising event they were both attending. 

When Taehyung fumbles to open the remaining buttons of Jungkook’s shirt, he’s transported to the night after their first real date. When, after dinner, Taehyung slowly stripped him off his shirt on the elevator ride to his penthouse, too eager to wait until they reached his apartment. 

When Taehyung stops for a brief second to look down at Jungkook’s naked chest and gasps, making them both giggle, Jungkook remembers all the times they laid in bed naked, laughing and kissing lazily, just enjoying the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

On the scale of life, two years is basically nothing. And that’s why, as Jungkook cups Taehyung’s jaw, bringing him closer for another kiss, he realizes two years was never enough to make him forget how to love Taehyung.

“God, I missed this,” Taehyung says against his mouth, hands exploring Jungkook’s side and back under his opened shirt. 

“More, Tae,” Jungkook begs again, hands sliding over Taehyung’s back all the way down to his ass, pressing him against his crotch. He rolls his hips, making them both moan into the kiss.

“Fuck, Jungkook-ah.” He groans, taking one step back and leaving Jungkook empty. Taehyung’s hands promptly find his hips, and he turns them until Jungkook’s lower back digs into the sink. He stops, studying Jungkook’s whole body under heavy eyelids.

A buzz of arousal crosses Jungkook’s spine. The thrill of being under Taehyung’s craving gaze has always made his insides churn. He doesn’t think it will ever be different. Taehyung smirks, face lighting up when an idea crosses his mind. “Be nice for me, yeah?” he says slowly, hands working to unbuckle Jungkook’s belt. 

Jungkook swallows dryly as his pants fall from his hips. A groan escapes his throat when Taehyung’s hand hovers over his hard cock. But instead of touching, he simply plays with the band of his briefs, fingers grazing over his navel. 

“Turn around,” he demands.

And who is Jungkook to not obey? He stumbles when he twists, the pants pooled around his ankles making it hard to move. When he finally faces the mirror, his hands reach the counter for support. 

Through the reflection in the mirror, he sees Taehyung already facing him. He smiles dangerously, nuzzling Jungkook’s neck when he approaches. The warmth of his body envelops Jungkook from behind, and he arches his back to better feel Taehyung's hard cock pressing against his ass.

Another desperate moan falls off his lips the moment Taehyung flicks his tongue over his ear lobe, catching it between his teeth. “I’m gonna show you how good my mouth still is.” It’s the last thing he says before his reflection disappears behind Jungkook’s back.

The sound of knees hitting the floor makes Jungkook widen his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, looking over his shoulder.

Looking up at him, hands full of Jungkook's butt, Taehyung smiles. “Uh, eating your ass?” 

“Taehyung!” Jungkook whines, legs bouncing in nervousness and anticipation at the same time. “This is an airplane bathroom, it’s fucking dirty!”

Taehyung squeezes his ass, squinting at him. “Jungkook, I had to keep my mouth off you for two fucking years. I don’t give a fuck about where we are,” he says firmly and pulls Jungkook’s briefs down with a hard tug.

It’s a mix of pain and relief when his cock springs free, forcing a broken groan out of him that shuts him up while also making him loud. He’s never been more grateful for all the white noise inside an airplane, because as Taehyung spreads his cheeks, Jungkook realizes if he was vocal before, things are about to get way worse.

The first puff of hot air over his hole makes his whole body tremble. His fingers dig into the formic of the sink, holding on for dear life. 

“Taehyung!” Jungkook hisses when a blow of air teases his ass. “I— This— We should— fuck! ”

Taehyung has always been a master of getting what he wanted. It can drive Jungkook insane, but sometimes, oh, sometimes it can be fucking good. 

His tongue licks a stripe from Jungkook’s perineum to his hole, lapping over his rim until Jungkook is moaning so loud he has to bite his lower lip. 

Jungkook’s head drops when the heat gets too much, he pushes back, trying to get Taehyung’s tongue further inside him. In any other situation, he would feel flustered for not having showered before, but for having his cock twitching on the counter of this dirty bathroom sink, but tonight is not like any other time.

Tonight Jungkook can only focus on the muffled grunts leaving Taehyung’s lips as he eats him out like he’s been waiting years to do this. He can only focus on the way pleasure buzzes all over his body, making him mumble nonsense.

His neglected cock drips, every time it hits the counter when he moves back and forth on Taehyung’s tongue is a painful reminder that he needs more friction. His grip on the sink tightens, and he shuts his eyes.

“Tae… I need to be touched, I need—”

“Am I not touching you enough, Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung says in a hoarse voice.

The lack of his tongue on Jungkook’s ass pulls another needy whine out of him. He arches his back more, hears Taehyung snort, but he doesn’t care if he sounds desperate. 

He is desperate.

Instead of his tongue, Taehyung’s thumb presses over his rim in a circular motion. It’s wet from spit, not enough to make it slide smoothly, but wet enough for him to slip half of his print in. The burn is not as intense as it can be, but it makes Jungkook trip over the edge of sanity anyway.

“No, no, you are— You— I just need, Tae,” he stutters, looking over his shoulder only to find Taehyung’s legs spread, his cock out as he gives it lazy strokes. Jungkook groans loudly, teeth gritting.

“You sound so good,” Taehyung says, teeth dragging over the sensitive skin of Jungkook's ass cheek. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you, I— I need more ,” he pleads, rocking back on Taehyung’s thumb, trying to get more inside him. 

Instead of offering more, Taehyung moves away completely. Jungkook barely has time to react, Taehyung presses his chest against his back, meeting Jungkook’s gaze through the mirror. 

“Do you have condoms or lube— Or anything really?” He asks, mouthing Jungkook’s neck.

A nervous giggle ripples through Jungkook’s chest, he leans his head to the side, granting full access to be marked. “Why would I have these here? It’s an overnight flight!”

Taehyung pinches his hip bone, a sly smile adorning his face. “Well, you’re not exactly sleeping right now.” He thrusts his hip forward, cock sliding over Jungkook’s ass cheeks.

The hand pinching his hip becomes a firm grip, pinning him in place. A breath catches on Jungkook’s throat when Taehyung thrusts forward, the tip of his cock hitting his tight balls.  

Biting his lips, Taehyung does it again, a small grunt following his sharp movements. “Looks like I’ll have to fuck your thighs, then,” he murmurs, eyes glistening with raw desire through the mirror. “Keep your legs closed for me, yeah?”

Jungkook nods, legs squeezing together. The thickness of Taehyung’s cock against the sensitive skin of his perineum doesn’t offer him any real relief, but the action itself is enough to burst his entire body into flames. 

He drops his head back to rest on Taehyung’s shoulder, mouth hanging open in a gasp as his mind replays what’s happening — as if feeling it’s not enough. He’s in a public bathroom, with Taehyung fucking his thighs and sucking his neck for the first time in two years. The heat of his skin sticks to Jungkook’s body like it always did. Like it has never left.

Arousal bursts through his body when Taehyung’s free hand circles his cock, pumping it at the same pace as his hips.

Taehyung might be loud in general, but it’s Jungkook the one who can’t keep it quiet in moments like this. He moans shamelessly loud, over and over. Just like he used to do when they fucked in their apartments and hotel rooms, not caring if the neighbors would be bothered.

“Fuck, you’re so noisy,” Taehyung hisses. “Do you want them to hear you?”

Jungkook whimpers, shakes his head. The idea of calling more attention to them than they already have is mortifying. At the same time, he can’t stop.  Taehyung jerks him off so well, movements precise, thumb sliding over the slit of his cock every time it reaches the tip. Exactly like he has always liked it. Alongside his cock sliding between his legs, hitting his balls and pressing over his perineum, Jungkook is starting to feel delirious. 

“No, but it’s too good, Tae, it’s too good,” he says, lifting his head up again.

Taehyung's teeth sink into his earlobe. A predatory mouth to match his predatory eyes. “Might have to shut you up. Here,” he says, letting go of Jungkook’s cock to circle his wrist and guide Jungkook’s own hand to his cock. “Touch yourself for me.” 

His fingers are not as long and warm as Taehyung’s, but the image of him touching himself in the mirror while Taehyung watches spikes all sorts of sensations in his body. 

The actor’s piercing gaze doesn’t leave him as he starts to pull the rem of Jungkook’s open shirt all the way up. He doesn’t need to ask to know what Taehyung is planning.

An embarrassing cry leaves him when he opens his mouth, allowing Taehyung to stuff it with the fabric. It’s dry and rough against his tongue, but it does the job. His whimpers and moans are muffled, not louder than the engine noises anymore.

“Look at you,” Taehyung says, fisting his hair to keep Jungkook’s eyes leveled in the mirror. “So pretty like this.” A strangled noise comes from Taehyung, making his chest vibrate against Jungkook’s back as he thrusts harder, probably on the edge of his own pleasure.

Jungkook’s hand works faster. He’s used to this kind of noise, to the way Taehyung gets mouthy when he’s close. 

His dark hair sticks to his forehead, their body heat too intense in this cramped space. Sweat mixes with Taehyung’s sweet perfume in the air. Jungkook groans when he registers it, it has always been one of his favorite smells. 

There’s just so much he recognizes in Taehyung. Not just physically, but with all his senses, that makes the heat pooling in his groin overflow. 

Good sex is not something rare to find. Sex can be good with any attentive partner, even if just for a one-night stand. But the pleasure of being in random people’s arms is different. It’s never fulfilling enough. 

In this small, unromantic airplane bathroom, Jungkook is reminded of why sex with Taehyung was never just good. 

It’s the way Taehyung’s voice echoes in his mind like a mantra, saying the right things to make Jungkook go pliant. It’s the way his fingers dig into his hair and hip bone like his prints have never left his body. It’s the way their eyes meet through the mirror and under Taehyung's hungry, yet attentive gaze, Jungkook feels like the most important thing on this Earth. 

It’s the way his body melts against his chest, his inner thighs wet with precum, spit, and sweat, burning from clenching so hard to give Taehyung a good squeeze.  Because even after all this time, he can’t help but give Taehyung all he needs. 

The tightness in his lower belly bursts when he’s reminded that it's the intimacy where he finds the most of his pleasure.

Jungkook’s vision blurs when he comes, the last image in the reflection of the mirror is his own face twisted in pleasure, jaw clenching around his shirt to muffle the groan that ripples through his chest. 

“Fuck, Jungkook-ah, I’m gonna—” Taehyung pants, pace getting erratic when hot liquid hits the back of Jungkook’s balls, sliding down his legs, making his own moans blend with Taehyung’s.

Long seconds pass in which the only sounds besides the engines are Taehyung’s heavy pants and Jungkook’s heart beating loudly in his ears. 

With his tongue, he pushes his shirt out of his mouth, the fabric coming out damp and wrinkled. He doesn’t mind. Everything is sticky and wet, but all that matters is the heat of Taehyung’s body when his arms circle his waist.

“Are you good, darling?” He asks, voice dragged from the high. 

Jungkook’s skin prickles hot at the pet name, the one that should sound strange after so long but that echoes in his ears like he’s been called his own name. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” He says firmly, lips instinctively curving up in a smile when Taehyung plants a kiss on his shoulder. “You?”

“Oh, I’m good. I’m more than good.” Taehyung smiles back, but there’s something mischievous when he hooks his chin over Jungkook’s shoulder, eyes going up and down on his naked torso. “But I can’t wait to have you in a bedroom.” He plants a palm over Jungkook’s stomach. 

Heat swirls in Jungkook’s belly again. It comes alongside a warmness of knowing he isn’t the only one to want this again. “Oh, in a bedroom, yeah?”

Taehyung hums, hand lowering to Jungkook’s navel. Ticklish as always, Jungkook squirms, but it only causes Taehyung to press further, firmly pinning him against his chest. “Hmhm, I need to show you all the ways I missed you.” He says, and it brings shivers down Jungkook’s spine. “It does include you inside me, just so you know.”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook’s groan is more like a laugh when he notices his dick hardening again. “I can’t get hard again, I’m all sticky with cum.” 

“Cum as lube.” Taehyung wags his brows. “It’s sexy.”

“It’s unsanitary!” Jungkook complains, opening his dirty palm in the air as he looks around. The sink is painted white, and Taehyung’s cum has slid down his legs. The smell of cleaning products mixes with the smell of sex in this unventilated place. Everything is kind of gross. 

“We’re way past that, darling,” Taehyung teases, reaching for the paper towels.

He carefully wipes the cum from Jungkook’s legs, seizing the opportunity to pepper kisses all over Jungkook’s back. 

“You’re so gross, I had forgotten that,” Jungkook mocks, rolling his eyes as he washes his hands.

“We’ve been back together for half an hour and you’re already insulting me,” Taehyung teases back, completely unaware of the weight of his own words. He finishes wiping Jungkook’s ass and gives his cheek a pat like, in fact, his words don’t weigh at all. “ That you didn’t forget how to do.” 

The commentary doesn’t affect Jungkook the way it should. Not when Taehyung’s words weigh tons to him. Instead of bantering back, he stops his movements altogether in the sink, and lifts one eyebrow. “Is that what we’re—”

A loud knock stops his words, followed by a familiar voice. “Is everything alright there?” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the same time Taehyung slaps a hand over his mouth. The water on the tap stops running, only echoing Seokjin’s voice further into the bathroom. 

“Seokjin-ssi?” Taehyung asks as if there’s a chance of him not knowing that particular voice. “Everything is fine.”

“I hear voices,” the flight attendant states. It’s not a question, Seokjin is probably past wondering when it comes to them.

Absurdly aware of his nakedness, Jungkook starts buttoning his shirt even though there's a closed door between them that won’t be forced open. He desperately wishes he could pull up his pants to hide his dick but he doesn’t trust his movements to be silent now.

“I’m just talking to my manager,” Taehyung says, voice controlled. Jungkook wonders how he does it, pretends to be okay when the situation is nothing but nerve-wracking. “Since I can’t do it from my seat, you know, to not disturb the other passengers.” 

“Right…” Seokjin sounds all but convinced.

Jungkook holds his breath, sweat already breaking on his nape. He doesn’t know what Seokjin can do, but flight attendants surely have a way of breaking into airplane bathrooms, don’t they? 

“Give me five minutes and I’ll be out,” Taehyung reassures, but Seokjin doesn’t make any sounds to indicate he’s moving. Darting his eyes around, Taehyung gulps. “This is a really urgent matter regarding, hm, an upcoming drama people can’t know about yet.  Classified information and all,” he adds with a sly grin. 

“Oh, of course.” Seokjin clears his throat. “Just be sure to not take long.” 

They stay still, Taehyung’s hand still over Jungkook’s mouth until the footsteps fade across the door.

A giggle erupts from Taehyung’s mouth when he drops his hands to the side, his body falling back on the opposite wall.

“Don’t laugh!” Jungkook swats his shoulder, body bending forward awkwardly to pull his pants back up. “That man is scary!”

“Well, thank god my charms still work on him,” Taehyung winks, bringing his shorts back to his hip with a loud snap.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook buckles his belt. “Only because he doesn’t know what you’re up to.” He looks down at his creased shirt and uselessly tries to smooth it with a hand. When the fabric continues as wrinkled as before, he grimaces. 

Taehyung groans and launches forward, hands cupping Jungkook’s face and squishing his cheeks. “Ugh, I love when you get jealous, you know?” He smacks a loud kiss on Jungkook’s puckered lips. “I’ll go first. You be a good boy and wait here for a few more minutes.”

Jungkook wants to complain, but before he can even think, Taehyung is pressing another kiss on his mouth and he forgets where they are for a moment.

5 hours until landing

Taehyung is wearing his smuggest smile when Jungkook returns.

It’s not unusual. Taehyung is pleased with himself quite often. When Jungkook is not busy hating him, he finds it quite endearing. 

Like now. The scene makes his heart flutter, and he cleans his sweaty palms on his wrinkled shirt — it’s a lost cause anyway. There’s hesitancy when he takes his seat again. 

What if Taehyung said what he said just in the heat of the moment? What if he didn’t even notice what his words meant? What if this was just a one-time thing for him to remember what it felt like to have Jungkook again? What if—

“You’re overthinking.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to rebut, but he closes it shut when nothing comes out. Nodding slowly, he fidgets on his spot. There’s a bump on the armrest when he places his palm on it, and Jungkook starts scraping the metal absentmindedly.

“The things you said in the bathroom…”

“I said a lot of things, Jungkook-ah.” Taehyung smirks.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook scratches the surface. “I mean the last one, before Seokjin interrupted.”

Taehyung looks at him curiously, completely unaware of what he means.

Without meaning to, Jungkook’s chest deflates. He bites his lower lip, rolls his head to the other side to avoid eye contact as if it will make the rejection easy.

“You said that we are back together. Is that what you—” Jungkook gulps, fingers tensing on the armrest. His chest sinks, a bundle of nerves growing in his stomach as he musters the courage to say it. “Is that what you want?”

“Oh.” Taehyung inhales sharply, his silence more telling than anything. “Hey, look at me.”

The child that inhabits Jungkook wants to shake his head no and cross his arms over his chest, but look where being stubborn got him. Reluctantly, he turns to Taehyung, keeping his eyes on the floor for safety. 

Gentle fingers hook under his chin, forcing his gaze up. Taehyung smiles softly, but there’s hesitancy in his words. “I thought that was obvious now, no?”

Like the weight of his body is dissolving into the thick cabin air, Jungkook feels light. A shy smile grows on his face. “I thought we had agreed that I’m dense.”

A bubbly laugh escapes Taehyung’s mouth, forcing Jungkook to look up, because how can he refuse himself the privilege of seeing this? Of seeing the most beautiful man he knows giggling, eyes wrinkling on the sides when his cheeks rise up. Of seeing Taehyung without any masks, without restraints. Something that is not reserved for everyone.

“Of course I want it! I know we still have a lot to talk about but…”

“A lot, like, really a lot.”  Jungkook agrees, nodding slowly. He reaches for Taehyung's hand, interlacing their fingers with care. “But I’m where I want to be now, I’m not holding back from anything. If people don’t agree with my choice, they can quit. I mean it.”

Tahyung looks down at their hands,  smile only getting bigger. “Even if your choice is dating a celebrity?” He pauses. “A man?”

Squeezing his fingers, Jungkook says firmly, “Yes, Taehyung.” He sighs, running a tongue over his lips. Heated confessions and quick sex in an airplane bathroom don't solve things, Jungkook is aware of that. That’s why, when his gaze meets Taehyung again, he lets go of all the pettiness he’s been carrying around. “I’m sorry for being such a coward back then.” He stops, closing his eyes for a second. “I was so scared of what people would think that I didn’t take into account what you thought. I don’t want you to feel like my second option this time.” He flutters his lashes open, meeting Taehyung's hopeful eyes. “I— I want to show you’re my first option, always.” 

The division between their seats is large, but Taehyung awkwardly leans over it, pulling their clasped hands close to his mouth. He plants a kiss on Jungkook’s knuckles, looking him dead in the eyes. “I believe you.”

It’s funny how the silence in an airplane is never silent, but the moment his eyes lock with Taehyung’s, the world gets muted around him. They stay like this for a while, just looking at each other, trying to compensate for the lost time of not having the privilege of noticing the details on each other’s faces.

It’s warm and familiar. It’s intimate even with minimum contact. 

It’s easy. To look at Taehyung and notice that’s the face of the person he loves.

Jungkook shouldn’t feel giddy about it after so long, but he’s not the strongest man when it comes to Taehyung.

Slowly, a mischievous smile spreads on his face.

“What?” Taehyung asks, lips rubbing over his knuckles.

“So, just that we are clear,” Jungkook starts, cocking an eyebrow. “That means you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Taehyung groans, shoving his hand away and slumping back to his seat with the most ridiculous smile on his face. “You’re insufferable.” 

4 hours until landing 

The soft rubbing of Taehyung’s thumb over the back of his palm is lulling. His breathing is even and heavy from where he sits awkwardly turned to Jungkook, but the gentle movements are a sign he’s not sleeping. Jungkook is far from that as well, but this feels a little dreamy anyway.

Even with the distance between them, Taehyung is warm. Even the smallest of touches are so soothing that Jungkook barely registers how bouncy the plane has gotten in the past few minutes. 

“You said you want to show me I’m your first priority,” Taehyung says so faintly that for a moment Jungkook doesn’t think he’s meant to hear. “I wanna show you that I trust you. Because I do.” He pauses, taking a long inhale. “I know that’s not how I acted in the past, I was stressed and tired and—” His eyes widen, and he shakes his head, “I know this is not an excuse— but I—”

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupts softly. He takes an extra second to look at Taehyung in silence, to take in all the hesitancy and hope mixed in his gaze. His stomach flutters with similar feelings. They have a long road ahead, but what matters is that they are in the same place right now. “We both made mistakes. We learned from them, and now we move forward.”

“That easy?” 

Jungkook hums, bringing Taehyung’s hand to his lap and forcing him to lean over the division of their seats. Taehyung winces when the hard surface pokes his ribs but adjusts himself quickly. “It doesn’t have to be difficult. Not again. We’re both where we want to be career-wise,” he says, carefully lifting his gaze from their clasped hands to Taehyung’s face. “Now we can both focus on where we want to be in our personal lives.”

Taehyung’s smile starts sweet but quickly shifts to mischievous. “Personally, you know where I want you to be right now?” He waggles his brows. 

Squinting, Jungkook tries to suppress a beam. “Where, darling?”

“Here, in my seat.” He moves his butt to the side to make space.

“What?” Jungkook looks over his shoulder. “We can’t share the same seat, people will complain even more!”

Taehyung shrugs. “Everyone is sleeping.” Then he does what he does best. His lips jut out in a pout and his lashes flutter angelically. “Come on, I need you closer. It’s not fair that I finally get you back and I can’t have you in my arms.” 

It shouldn’t be like this after so long, Jungkook should be immune to it by now. But he’s so not.

His stomach somersaults when he looks over his shoulder one more time. The plane is as silent as a plane can be. Engines, snores, air conditioning. All the noises that make it safe for him to leap over the division, clumsily balancing himself in front of Taehyung.

Taehyung shifts sideways, making room for Jungkook behind him. He doesn’t have to say anything, Jungkook knows his place as the big spoon. He’s glad to see that’s still his spot after two years.

The seat is small even though it reclines fully, the lateral uncomfortably pressed against his lower back, but his body fits around Taehyung’s like they’ve never been apart for more than five minutes.

“Comfy?” Taehyung slurs. 

“As comfortable as I’ll ever be in an airplane,” Jungkook says against the back of Taehyung’s neck, brushing his lips over his skin at each word. 

“Aish, you’re in first class and you’re complaining!” Taehyung huffs, then elbows Jungkook’s stomach. “And I meant hugging me!”

“Ouch!” Jungkook muffles his yelp against Taehyung’s shoulder. He tightens his arm around Taehyung’s waist, bringing him even closer to his chest. “You know I’m always comfortable with you in my arms.”

“Cheesy,” Taehyung says, and Jungkook can totally hear the smile in his tone.

The pleased hum Taehyung lets out is the last sound he makes before his body goes heavy.

3 hours until landing

“Gentlemen, what would you like for break—” 

The noises around him are confusing, but the smell close to his nose is too familiar. He grips tightly at the body he’s been holding, slowly coming back to reality. Has he finally slept during a flight? 

“ Oh my fucking god!!!”

The mad voice coming from above finally registers in Jungkook’s brain and he snaps his eyes open, body awakening in alarm. 

It’s all blurry from sleep but it still looks like Seokjin staring down at them, jaw clenched and hands resting on his hips impatiently.

Jungkook shakes Taehyung to wake him up, but the best he gets in return is a groan. He repeats the motion with more intent, and this time Taehyung jolts up, confused.

“What?!” He looks around. His heavy, sleepy eyes go round when his gaze finally meets the annoyed flight attendant. “Oh, Seokjin-ssi, hi!” Taehyung fumbles with his arms, detaching himself from Jungkook and trying to tame his wild hair.

“Weren’t you two fighting until three hours ago?” Seokjin asks vexedly, arching a confusing brow. Jungkook looks back and forth between Taehyung and the flight attendant, but before he can say anything, Seokjin lifts a palm. “You know what? I don’t even wanna know. Mr Jeon.” He sighs, the irritation present in his gaze when he stares down at Jungkook. “Could you please return to your seat? Again. ”

“Of course.” Jungkook bows, and does as he is told, but not without hearing a groan from Seokjin when he leaps over the division of their seats. His face burns in shame, and he keeps his gaze down the whole time, both terrified and embarrassed to face the man again.

Seokjin clears his throat, squaring his shoulders back. “Good. Now, what would you like for breakfast, Mr. Jeon?”

“Hm,” Jungkook snatches the menu from the pocket of his seat, running his eyes over the paper quickly. “Pancakes? Yeah, pancakes, please.” He goes for the first thing he sees.

“Alright.” Seokjin nods and looks at Taehyung. “You, Mr. Kim?”

As if he were not caught in the most embarrassing situation of all, Taehyung smiles at Seokjin and takes the foldable paper from his own seat pocket. It’s quiet while he thinks about his answer, eyes roaming over the page in his hand like there are infinite options and not the limited flight menu. He pulls his lower lip into his mouth and frowns.

Jungkook won’t lie and say he doesn’t dread what will be the answer. The idea of Taehyung skipping another meal makes him pick the skin around his nails. He won’t intervene this time, he trusts Taehyung when he says he has a meal plan. But old habits die hard. What if Taehyung is considering going back to old patterns now that he has a shirtless shooting? What if none of the food fits his new diet and he decides to skip another meal completely? 

His foot taps against the carpet and he stares intensely at Taehyung with pinched brows, trying to beg him telepathically to order something, anything. Even a fucking fruit salad. 

The man pays him no mind. 

After what feels like three hours of Seokjin patiently waiting for his answer with a very impatient expression, Taehyung lowers the menu and says, “An omelet, please. No sides.” 

Taehyung doesn’t even wait for the flight attendant to leave to turn to Jungkook and directs him a told-you-so glance. 

It’s defiant but Jungkook replies to it with a wide smile. He has never felt more relieved from being proven wrong in his life. 

2 hours until landing

“Isn’t it weird?” Taehyung asks finally. Jungkook has seen the question waiting on his tongue for the past fifteen minutes or so. After all, he is loud even when he’s silent. “That you used to be one of the people I knew the most and now there’s so much I don’t know about you.” 

Jungkook hums, playing with Taehyung’s fingers. They’re not sharing the same seat anymore, but that doesn’t stop them from touching. Jungkook would probably jump off this plane if he had to keep his hands away from Taehyung right now. 

“What do you wanna know? Shoot.”

Taehyung laughs, but his face drops when he realizes Jungkook is for real. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to ask first. His fingers clench on Jungkook’s hand, eyes searching for something on his face. “Hm, how’s Hoseok-hyung?”

“Really?” Jungkook smiles, eyes creasing when his nose scrunches. “Two years without talking to me and you want to know about Hoseok-hyung first?”

The sheepish smirk that spreads on his face is very Taehyung of him. Shy and smug at the same time, aims to show that he still knows how to surprise Jungkook. “Well, what can I say? Hyung has always been my favorite.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but can’t contain his own smile. Everyone knows hyung is his favorite too. “Hobi-hyung is good. More than that, I should say, considering he’s the one in charge while I’m on this trip.”

“What?” Taehyung gapes.

Coyly, Jungkook shrugs. “Well, after I got promoted, he also got promoted.” He pauses just for the suspense, just to see the crease in Taehyung’s forehead getting deeper. “He’s the COO now, not my assistant anymore.”

The surprise on Taehyung's face is priceless, but the smile he gives Jungkook after is so much better. It’s filled with adoration and admiration and something more. 

“Kook-ah, that’s…” Another hand squeeze and Taehyung adds, “That’s amazing! Hyung really deserves it.”

“You sound too surprised,” Jungkook teases, bringing one hand over his chest to fake offense.

“No, of course not.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, pushing their clasped hands against Jungkook’s rib cages. “I just know how hard people in that damn company were with him.”

“I know, darling,” Jungkook replies softly. “That’s why I fought for his promotion even though the board had another name for it.”

“You’re a good CEO, then?” Taehyung asks with a smirk.

“Depends on who you ask.” Jungkook winks, trying to seem cocky even though his eyes dart to his feet automatically. 

Taehyung directs him with a come-on glance. “Don’t be modest. We both know you’re the most fair person in the corporate world.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “You’re only saying that because you love me.”

The words slip from his lips without him even noticing. It’s only when Taehyung takes a bit too long to reply that he realizes what he just said. 

His eyes widen, and Jungkook’s jaw drops open. His mind goes blank and then kind of short circuits when Taehyung’s expression changes to something mirthful, totally amused by the evident panic on his face.

Fast. He needs to think of something fast . “Not that— I mean—” He stutters, cringing when not one single sentence comes out complete. Great. Just because he thinks of Taehyung as the love of his life, it doesn’t mean Taehyung is on the same page. It’s been too long, things certainly are not where they left off. They have so much to talk about, they’re almost strangers now. Taehyung just said that, for fuck’s sake. What was he thinking? That they would restart from the same point? He frees his hand from their clasp, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. “What I want to—”

“You’re wrong,” Taehyung interrupts. If it's due to pity or because he really has something to say, Jungkook isn’t sure at first. All he knows is that these are not at all the words he expected to hear. His fingers freeze on the lapel of his shirt.  “I’m saying that because I’ve seen you work. You’re fair and dedicated,” Taehyung affirms. 

It’s a polite way to not reply to what Jungkook just said. He drops his hands at the same time his stomach drops an inch. But it’s fair. It’s way too soon to talk about love, even if the word has been popping up in his mind since he left that toilet.

He looks ahead and clears his throat ready to change topics, ready to go on as if nothing happened, as if the lack of response doesn’t kill him a bit inside. 

“I try—”

“The other part is true, though,” Taehyung interrupts again.

“What?” Jungkook snaps his head back to face him.

With the most serene smile on his face, Taehyung says easily, “You’re right.” He pauses, taking in Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression. “I do love you.”

1 hour until landing

The lights are bright again in the cabin, but the sky remains dark outside of the small windows. It feels like Jungkook has been inside this plane for a lifetime, but as his hand holds Taehyung’s over his lap still, he wishes they could stay here forever.

If he was bothered by the delay at the beginning of this flight, now he can’t stop imagining all the scenarios to stay here a bit longer. If he’s lucky, the runaway will be obstructed by another plane and they’ll have to taxi for a bit. Just a few more minutes. Just so he can keep Taehyung close like this, all to himself. 

As much as there’s no doubt left that Taehyung loves him, this plane is still the safest space Jungkook has at the moment. God knows what will happen when they arrive in New York. 

As the minutes left until landing displayed on the screen only decrease, Jungkook taps his foot nervously on the floor. Taehyung notices. Of course he does. 

His eyes have been attentive to Jungkook since they left the bathroom. He thinks he’s discreet, but Jungkook catches all his side glances, all the not-so-subtle ways his gaze wanders through the cabin just to naturally stop on Jungkook.

“Do you have plans for when you land?” Taehyung asks as if he’s been reading Jungkook’s mind.

Well, maybe Taehyung is not the only unsubtle one. 

“Heading to the hotel,” he says. “The conference starts early tomorrow.” There’s a small pause in which Jungkook feels his stomach swoop with anxiety. Tomorrow. He doesn’t know what tomorrow will look like for him and Taehyung although he has many ideas. “You?” 

“Same,” Taehyung replies, he leans forward and uses his free hand to tap the screen in front of him. The image of a map moves on the panel and the screen zooms in automatically, the small airplane flying over New York State. Taehyung presses his lips, scrunching at the screen. 

With his stomach in a free fall, Jungkook decides he needs to step up for himself. He can’t be on this plane for a while longer, but he can be with Taehyung for a while longer. Preferably, a while forever. But baby steps.

“When we land…” he starts hesitantly.

“Yeah?” Taehyung encourages, moving his gaze off the map.

“I know we both have schedules early in the morning but—” Jungkook bites his lower lip when he pauses. “Maybe we could spend the night together.”

The frown in Taehyung’s face dissolves into a relieved grin. “Oh, thank fuck.”

Jungkook shoots his brows up and giggles nervously. “What?”

“I was waiting for you to ask— but also trying to ask—” he blurts out, releasing their clasped hands to pull his hair back. “God, I was being dense, too, right?” He chuckles.

“That makes two of us, darling.” Jungkook smiles fondly, stomach settling on the realization that he’s not the only one unsure of how to do this again. “Okay, it is settled that we need to communicate better. Like, for real,” he says, nodding slowly. “Not only about feelings, but whatever it is we’re thinking, too.”

Taehyung nods along. “Okay, I want to go to your hotel to spend the night with you, yes.” 

“Good.” Jungkook smiles. “I really want that, too—”

“And I really want to eat your ass again,” he blurts out.

“Taehyung!” Jungkook groans, snapping his head to the side but regretting it right away when he finds the businessman by his side staring back at him. His whole face grows hot when the man clears his throat, quickly looking away.

“What?” He asks feigning innocence. “You said we needed to communicate our thoughts.”

Jungkook squints, face still burning. “You’re lucky I really love you and I really like this piece of information you just shared, otherwise you’d be forbidden from communicating anything ever again!” He whispers-yells.

The wholehearted laugh that comes from Taehyung is loud enough to mute Jungkook’s embarrassment.

0 hours until landing

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Capitan Park speaking,” the nice voice comes from the speakers a few moments after the airplane touches the ground with a tremor. Taehyung’s hand is still secured in Jungkook’s, rubbing soft circles on its back even though the unpleasant shaking of the landing is over. “Welcome to New York City. The local time is 8:13 pm, and the weather is nice tonight with a pleasant temperature of 20 degrees Celsius. You may use your phones and other electronic devices now, but for your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until we reach the gate. On behalf of Koran Air and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the future. Have a nice night!”

“Finally,” Taehyung groans, his neck cracking when he rolls his head to the side. “This flight took approximately five days.”

“I thought having me around wasn’t that bad.” Jungkook pouts, making puppy eyes at him. He’s joking, but now that the plane is moving on the ground, Jungkook feels the exhaustion descending on him. His whole body aches and every movement of the plane hits him straight in the temple. He’ll pass out as soon as he arrives at the hotel. Knowing Taehyung will be by his side makes the idea a thousand times more appealing.

“Hm, only in the second half,” Taehyung teases back.

“The audacity!”

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung lets out a breathy laugh through his nose. “You were so annoying in the first few hours, don’t even.”

“Fair,” he agrees, but then raises his voice in protest, “but you were too, with your legs and...” Jungkook gestures around nothing.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Taehyung smirks, winking at him. “I boarded this plane single and I’m leaving as a taken man.”

Jungkook blinks at him for a second too long, letting his words wash over him just so he can appreciate how good they sound. 

“God, we really lived two lifetimes in here, didn’t we?” He finally says. 

Tahyung smiles sweetly, eyes a little sunken due to the lack of sleep. The tiredness of his features doing nothing to shadow his beauty. “Who could’ve thought that’s what we needed?”

“Being stuck in a plane for seventeen hours?” Jungkook asks ironically, but not really.

“It was sixteen!”

“For you,” he deadpans. “I spent one extra hour waiting for you, darling”

“And you’d wait a thousand more if you knew the outcome would be this.” Taehyung lifts their clasped hands.

“You know what?” Jungkook stares at their intertwined fingers. Taehyung’s bony knuckles fit perfectly between his. “I totally would.”

This is definitely one of the moments Jungkook missed the most — besides actually being able to feel Taehyung . The intimacy of sharing a silent look and letting himself get lost in Taehyung’s eyes for a while too long. The thrill of feeling the world vanish around him, of realizing nothing else matters but this moment.

Butterflies in the stomach is a concept Jungkook thinks he’s too old for, but that’s exactly how Taehyung has made him feel since the day they met. He hopes it never vanishes.

Everyone moves fastly around them when the sign to unfasten the seat belts rings.  For the first time, Jungkook doesn’t feel in a rush to leave. Taehyung’s eyes are too soft on him to think of anything else.

When the fuss around them subsides, Taehyung is the first to break their moment, looking over his shoulder to find an almost empty cabin.

“Well, I think it’s time,” he says reluctantly, as if leaving this plane is also something he’s not looking forward to.

Jungkook nods and stands up, his knees crack when he stretches his legs. When he finishes collecting his belongings and putting them inside his bag, Taehyung is far from gathering his own stuff scattered around his seat.

“Oh shit, I have to put on my pants,” he says rushedly, clutching his black pants over his chest and running towards the bathroom. “You can go ahead!”

“ Now you change in the bathroom?” Jungkook gestures towards the almost empty cabin, but Taehyung simply sticks his tongue out and disappears into the small toilet.

Huffing a laugh, Jungkook shakes his head and circles their seats, taking the liberty of stuffing Taehyung’s headphones, sunglasses, and wallet into the handbag he left open on the seat. 

He could leave this plane, he could walk down the empty aisle to where Seokjin stands, bidding his goodbyes to the last passengers queuing to leave the aircraft and meet Taehyung outside. Casually, like acquaintances do when they meet on a flight. He could also just go, meet Taehyung at his hotel room. They’ve already arranged that, it will be no issue to discreetly get inside.

But the thought of leaving without Taehyung after everything that happened in the last seventeen hours doesn’t sit well with him. 

So he waits, foot tapping the floor anxiously. 

Taehyung fumbles out of the toilet fairly quickly. The tiny yellow shorts hanging in one hand, while he messily zips up his pants with the other.  

“Oh!” He looks down at his stuff, then back at Jungkook, running a hand over his messy hair. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” He stuffs the shorts in the bag without minding to fold it and loops the strap over his shoulder. There’s a stiff smile on his face when tilts his head towards the door. “Let’s go?”

Jungkook nods, his own bag secured in his hand, the leather strap uncomfortably warm against his sweaty palm.

The way towards the exit is short — maybe too short.  His feet drag across the carpeted floor, and his heart thuds loudly at each step he takes.

He’s leaving with Taehyung, that’s what he wanted. So why does it not feel enough?

“Taehyung?” Jungkook stops to a halt. “Wait.”

Taehyung crashes against his back, one hand securely on Jungkook’s shoulder to rebalance himself. “Whoa!” He takes a step back, looking confusedly at him.  “What?”

Taking a deep breath that feels too short on his lungs, Jungkook turns around. He ignores the way his stomach plummets, and how his tongue suddenly gets stuck to the roof of his mouth.

He cleans his clammy palm on his slacks and opens it in between them.

Taehyung looks down at his trembling hand hanging in between them with widened but perplexed eyes. “What’s this? Do you need something?” 

Nervously, Jungkook chuckles. “Yes.” He wiggles his hand in the air. “For you to take it.” 

If Taehyung's eyes were wide before, it’s nothing compared to how they almost jump out of their sockets.  He leans forward, speaking in a rush as if needed to keep it to themselves, “There will be photographers outside!”

“Who cares?” Jungkook says in a normal tone, voice way more unbothered than his swooping stomach.

“Wha— Are you sure?” Taehyung bites his lower lip hesitantly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I told you, didn’t I?” He replies, mouth twitching in a cautious smile.  “I want to show you you’re my first option.”

The laugh that comes out of Taehyung’s mouth has an edge to it. “Now?”

“Taehyung— Darling,” Jungkook corrects himself. He chooses to ignore all the uneasiness going on inside him to give Taehyung a soft look. Reassurance is what Taehyung always craves when he’s nervous. That’s all Jungkook wants to offer him from now on. There should be no space for doubts between them anymore, even if very little is certain. “Do you trust me?”

The simplicity of the question hides much more than the immediate meaning of the words, and Taehyung notices it with a smile.

He nods once, twice. Each time the grin on his face grows more convinced.

“Of course.” He places his hand on top of Jungkook’s, clasping their fingers with intent.

The weight of his palm is not only welcoming, it soothes all the nerves inside Jungkook. He smiles brightly, finally releasing an easy breath. “Then now is as good a time as any.”

It should be nerve-wracking to leave this plane without knowing what he will find outside. The idea of facing the photographers and fans waiting for Taehyung, ready to spread the news like wildfire. In the past, it would have made Jungkook terrified. Tonight, he embraces the chaos as a thrill and walks towards the door effortlessly as he tugs Taehyung behind him.

Well, perhaps the photographers and the fans don’t terrify him, but the image of Seokjin standing by the exit certainly does. His clasped hands in front of his body and placid posture do nothing to disguise the manic smile plastered on his face. His gaze trails to where Jungkook and Taehyung’s hands are clasped, and he clenches his jaw, tilting towards the other flight attendant to indiscreetly whisper something  Jungkook can’t hear to his colleague, Yoongi.

“Thank you,” Yoongi is the first one to say with a nice smile. “Bye!”

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon,” Seokjin parrots, voice charged with mirth as he looks at their hands and rails his gaze back up again to zero at Taehyung. “And Mr. Kim.” 

“Thank you, Seokjin-ssi,” Jungkook says with a bow. If he’s using politeness to hide his burning cheeks, nobody needs to know.

“It was a pleasure having you both with us tonight, I hope to see you again on our flight,” he lies because it’s his job to do so, but Jungkook doesn’t blame him for doing it. 

“Thank you, Seokjin-ssi,” Taehyung says in a mellow voice behind Jungkook. He tugs Taehyung again to get out of this plane as fast as possible — a million reporters are nothing compared to how mortified he feels around Seokjin. But of course Taehyung isn’t Taehyung without being charming, so he says enthusiastically over his shoulder. “I hope you enjoy my upcoming drama!”

“I’m sure I will, Mr. Kim,” Seokjin replies in the same excited voice, waving a hand in the air. “But not as much as the current one,” the flight attendant whispers to Yoongi, certainly not expecting his voice would travel through the weird acoustics of the jet bridge.

Taehyung frowns, leaning to murmur close to Jungkook’s ear, “What is he talking about? I’m not in any dra—”

“Did you get it, Yoongi?” Seokjin laughs loudly. “Kim Taehyung and that hot businessman?! Better than any drama I’ll ever watch!” He squeals, his voice echoing through the warm outside air of the narrow corridor.

Jungkook chokes on his own spit at the same time Taehyung widens his eyes at him, mouth curving in an incredulous grin. 

He feels hot and shocked, but as his eyes meet Taehyung’s in a knowing gaze, silently sharing something only they — and Seokjin — know, Jungkook feels invaded by this light, airy sensation. The embarrassment doesn’t flood him like he thought it would, instead, his chest fills with giddiness and amusement, and it’s pleasant. Way too pleasant to keep it silently to himself.

Looking deeply into Taehyung’s mirthful eyes, Jungkook simply laughs. 

Soon, the noises of his own laughs are accompanied by the joyful sounds of Taehyung’s giggles. Jungkook squeezes Taehyung’s hand firmer, casting a loving look at the man of his life. Now, each of his steps is firm as he walks out of this flight with a lightness in his heart he hadn’t felt in two years.