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Jeongguk would like to consider himself a very reasonable person. 

At work, he stays overtime without a fuss. He doesn’t flip off drivers who cut him off, lets elderly step on the subway first, and he stays polite and smiling even when his boss yells at him for something he didn’t do. Life, as he knew it, had a certain structure that should be followed—laundry was done on Thursdays so that he could relax during the weekend. Grocery shopping was on Mondays, and the plants were watered on Tuesdays. For him, things like these just made sense, logically. And people, too, were placed into certain categories. Jeongguk knew exactly what he wanted from others, albeit a stranger, a coworker, a friend or a lover. There were boxes that had to be checked. An order that had to be followed.

And, sound as it may, Jeongguk didn’t think this made him cold by any means, categorising people in such a way. It was something that made him careful. He knew exactly what he wanted from others, and although it may sound like it, it wasn’t perfection that he was after, but more like predictability.

It’s not to say that he was perfect himself, because he was far from it. But he could hold himself accountable. He knew when he made mistakes and when someone was disappointed in him. In these cases, his boss would get a formal bow. His best friend would receive maybe an eye roll and a muttered apology. A lover—well, Jeongguk hadn’t gotten that far yet.

And that, he thinks, is the best thing about structure and reason, isn’t it? Knowing exactly how to act and what to expect. There are no surprises, no blind-sided feelings or breakups, no need to second-guess or worry or wonder what will happen next.

But all of that reasonability and structure seems to fly out of the window the moment he feels a body shift behind him on the bed.

Jeongguk goes completely still.

There’s a warm puff of air against the back of his neck, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. It’s enough to jolt him fully upright, eyes snapping wide open as he sits up on the bed.

He turns his head to look, jaw dropping inch by inch as he takes in the broad shoulders, the muscled back, skin the color of sun-dipped honey. Dark curls, loose and wavy, spill messily over Jeongguk’s iron-pressed pillow.

What the actual fuck.

The body lets out a sound, a questioning grunt that comes from somewhere deep within his chest, and Jeongguk watches, stricken, as long fingers blindly search the empty space where he’d been lying mere moments ago.

“Oh my god.”

Another sleepy huff, muffled against the pillow once more. With his face hidden like this, Jeongguk can’t even tell who it is. His throat is dry and head woozy from the remnants of alcohol still swimming in his veins.

What. The. Fuck.

The noise that escapes him isn’t words, more like the sound of a small, panicked animal. It sounds a bit wounded even to his own ears, but he can’t help it, not really. His brain is still trying to catch up with the whole situation. Because Jeongguk hasn’t been on a date in months—so the fact that there was a man in his bed right now is just, well, categorically impossible. 

Hysterically, for a moment Jeongguk wonders if maybe this guy is some intruder, a burglar who got tired mid-robbery and Jeongguk’s bed looked just a tad bit too inviting. But it can’t be, because there was something about those fingers that were seeking Jeongguk’s warmth that seem just a little bit, well—familiar.

Jeongguk scrambles up from the bed, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks as he realises he’s fully naked.

The sound of him searching for clothing seems to be the final thing that rouses the man awake, and Jeongguk holds his breath as the mystery guy finally turns around.

“Morning.”

The voice is low and gravelly, still thick with sleep, and it tugs at something in Jeongguk’s navel. Because now he remembers, as a flashback hits him from last night when that very voice was whispering into his ear yeah, you like that? Can you take it deeper?

Jeongguk’s cheeks flush. He snatches a shirt and a pair of boxers off the ground, shrugging the blue button-up on to cover himself up even a little. Then he lifts his gaze and allows himself to finally look at the guy. 

“Nope,” he blurts out, and then he’s storming out of his own bedroom.

Because there is no goddamn way he just slept with Kim Taehyung. In what universe, honestly, would Jeongguk do such a thing? 

The rest of his apartment is exactly how it usually is. The pillows on the couch are squared and fluffed, the magazines by the coffee table are stacked perfectly, spines aligned. There’s not a single coaster out of place, no dirty mug left behind in the kitchen sink. The only thing that stands out are the shoes in front of the door—two pairs, haphazardly kicked off, crisscross along the floor, as if someone had been in too much of a hurry to bother placing them neatly. 

Jesus Christ.

See, the thing is—Jeongguk doesn’t do this. One night stands are not his thing. In full honesty, he hates them. They’re messy and unpredictable and awkward, and apparently the guys can’t take a hint when they should leave and decide to stay the night instead. Quick, nameless fucks don’t work with him nor his personality. They should go against every grain of his entire being.

Because sex is supposed to be romantic. Feelings have to be involved. And feelings can only develop after a certain amount of dates. And there is no conceivable reason as to why Jeongguk would invite Kim Taehyung of all people over.

There were just certain lines which should never be crossed, and sleeping with a co-worker, no matter how hot, was definitely one of them.

Jeongguk can hear steps behind him, and his eyes that were glued on the two pairs of shoes now flicker towards his bedroom door from where Taehyung is walking out of.

In smart black dress pants he wore yesterday. Shirtless. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Jeongguk lets out a strangled noise from his throat. “Couldn’t you have at least put on a shirt or something?”

Taehyung lifts an amused brow as he saunters closer, eyeing Jeongguk up and down. His cheek is indented from pillow marks, hair mussed from sleep—and perhaps, Jeongguk’s hands late last night. “Well,” he says in that voice that does something awfully swoopy to Jeongguk’s stomach. “Seeing as you ran away with mine…”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen, and he looks down. Indeed the shirt he was wearing wasn’t one of his own. He must have picked it up in his frazzled state, grabbing the first thing that happened to be on the floor.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Taehyung says as an afterthought. He crosses his arms over his bare chest, forearms flexing, head cocking to the side a little, causing a wavy strand of dark hair to brush over his eyes.

Jeongguk lets out a deep breath, forcefully dragging his eyes away from Taehyung and landing on the shoes once more. One of Taehyung’s fancy dress shoes is on top of Jeongguk’s Nikes that he uses on his morning runs. He looks back at Taehyung, swallowing the lump in his throat. “This was a mistake.”

Taehyung’s eyes flick back to him in an instant, a concerned frown beginning to pull at his brows. He takes a step closer, breath warm against the side of Jeongguk’s cheek. “Wait, did you not enjoy it?”

He’s close, far too close, and Jeongguk can do nothing but remember how that voice sounded last night whispering in his ear. How those fingers felt pressed against his skin, soft and warm and intoxicating. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Not to me,” Taehyung responds instantly, his voice dropping as his eyes search Jeongguk’s earnestly. “Not if it’s you.”

Jeongguk feels his cheeks heat once more. “Look,” Jeongguk says, his back almost hitting the wall as he takes a step away to create some space between them. “I know you do, but I don’t do this stuff, okay?"

Taehyung lifts a brow. “What stuff?”

Jeongguk gestures up and down Taehyung’s body, as if that would somehow explain everything. Taehyung just blinks, causing Jeongguk to huff out,“this. One night stands. No dates, no feelings, just fucking.”

The corner of Taehyung’s lips quirk as understanding dawns on him. “Is that what I do?”

Jeongguk nods determinedly. 

Taehyung takes a step closer. Jeongguk retreats a step, and this time his back does hit the wall. “Do I need to remind you that at the office party last night you were the one who made a move?” Taehyung asks.

Jeongguk scoffs in disbelief. He crosses his arms, lips pursed. “Well that’s just a lie. This is all your fault.”

Taehyung is grinning now. Eyes crinkling and cheeks bunching, all boyish charm and Jeongguk’s heart does a little flip flop in his chest at the sight. “I would really love for you to explain how.”

Jeongguk scowls. “It just doesn’t sound at all like something I’d do.”

“And yet you did—and with me. That’s quite a stroke on my ego, honestly.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Heavens above.”

“You certainly were crying out to some deity last night.”

Jeongguk’s ears burn with embarrassment, hackles rising in defence. “I’ll have you know that I—”

“There’s no need to get your feathers all ruffled,” Taehyung says with a click of his tongue, his grin spreading lazy and wide. “I liked it. It’s still ringing in my head.”

“Well it’s the last you’ll ever hear of it,” Jeongguk snaps back. “Like I said, we’re just going to pretend this didn’t happen.”

“Ah, yes,” Taehyung drawls, crossing his arms loosely. “That’s very on par with the whole checklist vibe you’ve got going on. I’ve seen you around the office with your lists, hissing when someone skips step three-point-whatever. Is that the reason we’re pretending last night wasn’t one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to either of us?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk responds. “Because we haven’t even gone on a date. Hence nothing did happen.”

Taehyung’s brows climb, his mouth curving up. “Well, I didn’t know that was something you wanted. You seemed a bit preoccupied last night with other things.”

“Of course you didn’t know it’s what I wanted,” Jeongguk responds, jabbing his finger against Taehyung’s bare chest. The skin beneath his fingertip is warm and inviting and Jeongguk pauses for a second, clearing his throat before snatching his hand away. “You don’t know anything about me, and let’s keep it that way. This was a—” he gestures helplessly in the air. Taehyung watches the movements with thinly veiled amusement. “A mistake. Yes. A big one. Huge.”

“Sounds like you’re describing my—”

“Get out!” Jeongguk all but shrieks, pointing at the front door with flaming cheeks. 

“You’re still wearing my shirt, darling,” Taehyung says softly, followed by a laugh that sounds rather fond.

Jeongguk quickly strips the shirt off, refusing to meet Taehyung’s eyes and looking away as he shoves it against Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung catches it easily and takes a moment to lean back, eyes roving Jeongguk’s shirtless figure shamelessly. His grin turns wicked. “If you’d want to make another mista—”

Jeongguk huffs, pushing past and stomping into his bedroom, hearing Taehyung’s chuckle behind him. 

And as he hears the front door shut, Jeongguk falls back into bed. He winces, face burning with humiliation as he feels a twinge in his lower back. His gaze falls onto the other side of the bed where Taehyung had been sleeping. Sheets still crinkled, the soft scent of something musky wafting off the sheets. 

Jeongguk hates how he really likes the way Taehyung smells.

And he really likes how last night Taehyung would press his whole body against Jeongguk’s own, secure an arm around him and pull him so tightly against himself it were almost as if they were one person. There was something about it that made him feel so secure and safe and wanted. 

He groans again, flopping onto his back and placing his hands on his face as the memories of last night make his stomach swoop and flip. Phantom touches of Taehyung pressed against him, lingering long enough that Jeongguk feels his skin begin to tingle. 

He huffs in disbelief, because there is no way his cock is getting interested right now, fattening against his thigh and twitching for attention. 

This entire thing is a catastrophe and it goes against every single principle Jeongguk has ever lived by in his adult life. He glares down at the offending body part, refusing to give it the satisfaction it so desperately seems to want.

And as the sun begins to fully rise, a golden glint catches Jeongguk’s attention. He turns to look at the bedside table, squeezing his eyes shut a second later in frustration, because of course Taehyung had to leave his jewelry behind.

And all of the plans Jeongguk was starting to construct in his head on how to avoid Taehyung get blown to utter shit as he realises he’s going to have to return them at some point. 

**

“Can we not make this into a big deal?”

Jeongguk’s words seem to fall on deaf ears. Jimin ignores him, instead smiling at the barista, reciting their usual order like he’s done a hundred times before. They’ve been coming here long enough that the staff know them by name, but Jimin still says his out loud when he sees a certain someone bustling around in the back of the cafe. 

It’s Jeongguk’s turn to pay, so he gives Jimin a side eye as his best friend flutters his lashes at Yoongi, the owner who certainly seems to blush a lot when he sees them visit. 

He hands his card over, paying for their drinks. Jeongguk takes the receipt as Yoongi disappears into the back, and only then does Jimin turn towards him.

“Jeongguk, this is monumental.” Jimin leans against the counter, suit jacket tugging slightly at his waist, one hand perched on his hip. “You barely sleep with anyone because no one ever makes it past your dumb three-date policy. And now you banged someone after an office party? This is scandalous. I’ll have to call Seokjin.”

“You will do no such thing,” Jeongguk hisses.

“Jeongguk, nothing like this has happened to us since middle school,” Jimin goes on. “Like when—what’s his name? Whatever, you know the guy, snuck into the girls locker room for a kiss and ended up with twenty girls whacking him with a towel and calling him a perv.”

Jeongguk collects their drinks when the barista calls out his name. “Well, that’s admittedly a super pervy thing to do. He deserved it,” Jeongguk says with a frown, handing Jimin his coffee.

Jimin breathes out through his nose, as if he’s the one currently going through a crisis. “I need Seokjin to support me through this.”

“You need?” Jeongguk bristles. “You?”

“Yes, me,” Jimin responds firmly. “You’re obviously in denial and I’m the only one for whom reality has set.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they come back down again. Because while he understands what this whole thing might come across as, Jimin is gravely mistaken. There is nothing going on between him and Taehyung, and honestly Jimin was making this into a much bigger deal than what should be necessary.

Because so what if Jeongguk hadn’t slept with anyone for close to a year? So what if he was picky and selective and strict when it came to relationships? Taehyung didn’t fit the relationship category, so this was all just an anomaly, one which would, or already has, passed by. 

“Taehyung,” Jimin suddenly greets, gaze flicking past Jeongguk with a polite smile. 

Jeongguk freezes. His whole body locks up, brown doe-eyes wide, spine going rigid. As he turns around, he sees the spot behind him empty. It’s just the barista bustling about, wiping down the coffee machine clean. Jimin bursts into laughter, walking off.

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep, Park Jimin,” Jeongguk snarls, cheeks hot, exiting the cafe after Jimin has already managed to dip outside. “Or skin you alive, even better.”

The cold wind slaps against his skin, and he digs his face further down his scarf. Thankfully, their office is right next door, but the snow falls so fast that Jeongguk’s black hat has almost fully changed color by the time he steps into the lobby of the office building.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin responds, already waiting inside. He hooks his arm around Jeongguk’s through the thick of their jackets, beaming bright. “If you make it through your meeting first.”

**

The way Jeongguk’s private life is organised definitely stems from his organization skills at work. There is a certain order in which things are done. Documents are color-coded based on importance, paragraphs highlighted for points he wants to bring up during meetings, and things he no longer needs are shredded and thrown out of sight.

His desk is neat and tidy. There is a stack of post-it notes in one corner, a flappy note stuck to the side of his computer screen which reminds him to pick up the manila files from Hoseok before their meeting begins. He has a plant he waters every third day. The leaves of it shine under the synthetic light Jeongguk bought for it, and under his care, it’s begun to flower, with a few dark petals unfurling at the top. He named it Bam.

And well-maintained plants aside, Jeongguk carries that same care and precision at work. As a financial analyst, every spreadsheet he makes is accurate, and every figure is accounted for to the last decimal. He forecasts client portfolios, and reports are well prepared before deadlines, often even with annotated notes and contingencies for questions that could potentially come up.

Jeongguk is on top of everything. He keeps multiple calendars, color-coded, of course, so that nothing can slip through the cracks.

And a few minutes before the clock strikes ten o’clock, Jeongguk clears his throat and sorts out his papers. He carries them in his grip as he walks by Hoseok’s desk. The man himself isn’t there, but the files Jeongguk wanted are left for him at the corner of the table. 

Jeongguk collects them before walking down the hallway of the office and entering the meeting room. One of the marketing executives is already there—and so is Kim Taehyung.

Jeongguk takes in a deep breath to brace himself, ignoring the lingering stare Taehyung gives him as he finds his seat opposite Taehyung and sorts out the papers in front of him.

“Good morning,” he greets politely, mostly to the executive.

He gets a greeting in return, and then Jeongguk almost jolts out of his seat and into the roof as he feels Taehyung’s dress shoe beneath the table tap against his own.

He looks up, scowling, pulling his legs away from the offending shoe. Taehyung seems to be attempting to hide a smile, head ducking down as he listens to whatever the executive was telling him about before Jeongguk had walked in and interrupted them.

More people begin to file in at the last minute, and soon the door is shut and the head of marketing is launching in with a rapid-fire summary of numbers and statistics. Jeongguk nods along, looking at some of the highlighted figures he has on his own papers. 

“Jeongguk, did you have something to add about the numbers?”

Jeongguk blinks, not expecting his turn to speak yet but he clears his throat. “There’s been a 12% increase in this quarter alone. By next quarter, we could expect it to rise up to 30%. I can send in the predictions Hoseok-ssi and I made by email after the meeting.”

The head of marketing nods, continuing along. Jeongguk looks ahead of him—which of course happens to be right where Taehyung is. 

The man in question had been watching him, gaze dropping down to his own notes after being caught so red-handedly. Jeongguk follows his line of sight, eyes flicking to the documents in front of Taehyung. Mostly, they’re just empty papers with a few handwritten notes scribbled on the corners of it. Jeongguk has to catch his jaw before it falls. His eyes twitches.

“Taehyung-ssi?”

The focus shifts to Taehyung. The man in question simply straightens in his seat, resting his forearms on the table and starts to speak. “This quarter's results,” he begins, voice stable and professional, so very different from how he sounded speaking to Jeongguk a few nights ago, “show a strong upward trend in engagement, but there’s room to refine our strategy for even better outcomes next quarter, supported by the numbers Jeongguk mentioned.”

Jeongguk can’t help but stare. Stare at the gestures Taehyung’s hands make as he emphasizes a point. The way his deep voice softens at the edges when he shifts from facts to recommendations, softly urging the director to take his suggestions. The way his confidence feels innate, as if stitched to the very fabric of him, effortless in a way Jeongguk could never match.

It was. Well—it was beautiful chaos. Jeongguk didn’t have any other words for it. The man didn’t have any notes, seemingly hadn’t prepared in the slightest, but he still managed to do his job well. It was such the polar opposite of Jeongguk that for a second he wonders if them sleeping together had been some sort of lucid dream.

Because while Taehyung had looked at him a little, it was nothing out of the ordinary. And maybe the way his shoe had brushed along the bone of Jeongguk’s ankle had just been accidental. Maybe, he had only been staring because Jeongguk had been speaking.

But then he can feel the phantom touch of Taehyung’s hands on his waist, his hips, his chest. The way he’d moan, low and deep against the shell of Jeongguk’s ear as he’d thrust in deeper.

Jesus Christ.

Jeongguk’s ears burn.

He looks down at his notes, pretending to be busy with them as the meetings drones on. Everything is a little bit static to him, and he listens to the rustle of papers and the monotonous drag of voices instead of the tantalising voice in the back of his head trying to make him remember the night he spent with Taehyung.

As the meeting ends, Jeongguk stacks up his notes and exits the room. He can feel the heat of someone right behind him, chest pressing against his shoulder as they file out. And Jeongguk thinks that it’s a bit crazy, how he can identify that body just from the slightest touch.

Or maybe it’s the way Taehyung’s musky cologne infiltrates his nose and finds its way down to his lungs. In any case, once they’re out, Taehyung falls into step next to him, casual as ever.

Jeongguk glances at him. They haven’t really done this whole talking at work thing before. Jeongguk has noticed Taehyung—of course he has, and he thinks Taehyung has noticed him too, but still, they have always stayed in their own orbits, never really colliding apart from some glances and polite greetings.

“You barely had any notes.”

A rumbling laugh comes from Taehyung. “I’m sorry, did you have some pointers for me? In or out of work?”

Jeongguk snaps his head around just to glare at him. Taehyung’s lips are quirking into a smile. 

“Can I help you with something?”

“I was wondering if you’d want to get drinks with me. Say, Friday?”

Jeongguk stops dead in his tracks. Right there, in the middle of their office with cubicles all around and people walking past. He squints at Taehyung, but Taehyung looks awfully sincere. In fact, his cheeks seem a little pink.

“It seems alcohol and me don’t match that well. Mistakes tend to happen.” Jeongguk’s response is slow. He takes a step to move away, but pauses when Taehyung speaks again.

“Mocktails, then,” Taehyung suggests.

Jeongguk twirls back around. He leans in closer, just to make sure no one else will hear, but as a result he catches another whiff of Taehyung’s cologne, and it makes his head a bit dizzy. “I’m not going to sleep with you again,” Jeongguk says, rather haughtily even to his own ear.

Taehyung manages to keep a straight face. But his eyes, warm and bright, seem to sparkle with something. Amusement, perhaps. Maybe even anticipation. “I didn’t say anything of the sort.”

“But you thought it,” Jeongguk counters.

Taehyung leans in too. It’s a bit scandalous, the way his lips brush along the curve of Jeongguk’s ear. “But you were the one who spoke it. Soon you’ll make me think you want to sleep with me again.”

And see, Jeongguk has always been a little competitive. He usually lands right on top, and doesn’t do well with losing. And there was something in the way Taehyung spoke, the challenge in his voice that made Jeongguk rile up, like he had something to prove. Like this was a game of sorts and Taehyung is already claiming victory. 

“Fine. Let’s go for drinks,” Jeongguk snaps. Taehyung leans back, looking awfully pleased with himself. “But this is purely a friendly mocktail between two coworkers,” Jeongguk continues. “No romance, and no funny business.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour. Scouts honor,” Taehyung responds, grinning with a mock salute. His smile is this box-shaped thing, all warm and sincere, boyish in the way it frames Taehyung’s face. Jeongguk feels as his heart flips in his chest.

“Fuck.”

Taehyung’s brows shoot up.

“Fine,” Jeongguk nods, scrambling to cover up his words. “Fucking fine.” And then he’s swirling around on the spot and marching over to his cubicle. He thinks Taehyung might watch him go, but he doesn’t turn around to check. 

**

Jeongguk usually looks forward to lunch, not just because of the free food, but it’s an hour where he can forget about everything else and allow himself to relax with his friends. There’s a lemon kombucha in front of him, a chocolate-covered protein bar for dessert with a peach curd pudding. As his main dish he has a Caesar salad, filled with crunchy croutons and perfectly cooked warm chicken.

He spears a tomato, bringing it up to his mouth and nibbling absentmindedly on the skin of it as he listens to Hoseok speak. 

“So, I was thinking actually on the weekend we could do a little getaway?” Hoseok asks. “Like the three of us and Seokjin, and maybe Namjoon would want to join if he’s not too busy with work?”

Jeongguk hesitates. “Oh.” He leans back on his chair, his smile a little sheepish as he scratches the nape of his neck. “I actually can’t do this weekend?”

“Why not?” Hoseok asks with a frown. “You don’t have anything planned, I checked with you earlier.” Next to him, Jimin stares with narrowed eyes.

“Just—I’m busy.” He says it quietly, kind of hoping his tone would maybe make the two of them back off, but instead his friends lean in closer like a pair of meerkats, intrigued.

“Busy with what?” Jimin asks, suspicion in his tone.

“That’s private,” Jeongguk deflects.

“That word doesn’t exist in our friend group,” Jimin says with a scoff and a raise of his hand. “Spill.”

“No.”

Hoseok places his utensils back on the table. “Jeongguk.”

“I’m just busy.”

They’re locked in a staring contest until the puzzle pieces seem to click and Jimin gasps. “Oh my god? Jeongguk,” he exclaims. “Are you going to sleep with him again?”

“What?” Hoseok roars, almost standing up from his plastic cafeteria seat. “Jeonggukkie slept with someone?”

A few people from the tables surrounding them turn to look with intrigued gazes. Jeongguk waves his hands at them like it’s a misunderstanding. 

Once people turn back to their own conversations, Jeongguk glares at his friends.  “Shut up, both of you. I’m not going to sleep with him again. We’re just having drinks.”

“Wait—who is it? Oh, let me guess,” Hoseok says excitedly, eyes searching and scanning the cafeteria for answers. “Kim Taehyung?”

Jeongguk freezes. Jimin bursts into laughter.

A little squeak bubbles past Jeongguk’s lips. “How did you know?”

“Oh please,” Hoseok says with a wave of his hand. “The two of you were dancing around each other at that party. Honestly Jeonggukkie, you were coming onto him quite strong.”

Heat creeps up Jeongguk’s face. And fine, okay, he can admit to himself that Taehyung is mildly attractive. He has a handsome face and broad shoulders and large hands and lean legs and a low voice. 

“What are you talking about?” Jeongguk hisses.

“I mean, you were doing that wide doe-eyed thing you do. Pouting your lips and shit. Honestly I’m surprised he waited until you two left to pounce on you.”

“I just drank too much,” Jeongguk defends, borderline appalled. Had he really been throwing himself all over Taehyung like they seem to be claiming? “I learnt my lesson.”

Jimin scrunches his nose in disbelief. “By going for more drinks with him?”

“They’re mocktails,” Jeongguk responds with a saccharine smile.

“Oh, mocktails,” Jimin repeats. “You better not show up on Monday morning with hickies on your neck then.”

“He doesn’t—” put them where anyone can see, Jeongguk wants to say, but the words die on his tongue. He swallows them down, stabbing a piece of cooked chicken instead.

Jimin seems to understand whatever he was going to say regardless, with the way he snickers into his hand.

“Hey,” Hoseok says softly. “We’re happy for you.”

Jeongguk scoffs, throwing a bewildered gaze at Hoseok. “What’s there to be happy about? There is nothing romantic going on between us.”

“Right, of course,” Hoseok says with a raised eyebrow.

Jeongguk shoves the piece of meat into his mouth and chews, scowling. “Seriously, guys.”

“We believe you,” Jimin says. Both him and Hoseok nod in sync like they, in fact, do not believe him in the slightest. 

Jeongguk grunts. He’ll just have to prove to both of them that there is nothing going on between him and Taehyung. 

**

Jeongguk spends the rest of the week thinking about his upcoming non-date. He doesn’t know why he even agreed to it, honestly. What was the reason behind him saying yes? Competitiveness? Or maybe, it was just to prove to himself that it was indeed a mistake. That Jeongguk was still in full control. That he still had a carefully laid out plan of how he wanted his life to turn out, and that he still had a checklist on how he wanted his partners to be.

Reliable. Calm. Dependable. Caring.

And Taehyung was chaotic. Spontaneous. A dizzying whirlwind of smiles and touches that appeared and vanished before Jeongguk could catch his breath. He was everything Jeongguk was not seeking for. Sure, maybe he could admit that they had some chemistry in the bedroom. That was undeniable. And maybe Taehyung was easy on the eyes. But that’s where it ended between them. Because Taehyung, surely, was not interested in someone as structured as Jeongguk—and Jeongguk would not be able to manage the whirlwind that was Taehyung.

And so he’s fairly confident and ready as he steps into the bar Taehyung had told to meet him at. It’s one of those underground ones, with a dimly lit space and jazz music filtering through the stereos. The sofas are a dark red velvet, walls lined with private booths, the bar curving like a circle at the center of the room. 

Jeongguk shrugs off his coat as he walks in, folding it neatly in his arms as he looks around. He spots Taehyung sitting at one of the corner booths, tapping away on his phone, the light from the screen highlighting his face, warm and golden against the dark interior of the room. Jeongguk takes a deep breath as he steps closer.

Taehyung is in a white button-up, the top button left open and sleeves rolled up, revealing patches of skin Jeongguk has to drag his eyes away from as he walks over to the table.

“Hello,” Jeongguk breathes out as stands in front of Taehyung.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung greets, placing his phone face down onto the table. His gaze drags up and down Jeongguk’s body, pausing appreciatively at the white jumper Jeongguk is wearing, one that perfectly wraps around his broad shoulders and shows off the muscles on his arms. He didn’t pick it out just to impress Taehyung. He didn’t. “You look amazing.”

Heat rises to Jeongguk’s cheeks as he places his jacket on the hook next to the booth, right next to Taehyung’s cotton coat. “Shut up,” he utters, sitting down. “This is not a date. No need to do all of that extra stuff.”

Taehyung suppresses a smile, waving down a waiter. “All right, all right.” 

Smooth jazz filters through the air as Jeongguk fidgets with his fingers beneath the table. Because it looks like Taehyung has put some effort into his appearance, maybe more than usual. His hair is artfully tousled, lips a bit shiny from balm, golden hoops in his ears from an expensive brand.

Taehyung watches him for a bit, eyes soft and warm and flickering across Jeongguk’s face. “You know, it would be a crime not to order wine here,” he says. “Are you sure about that mocktail of yours?”

And Jeongguk knows Taehyung’s voice is purposefully teasing just to get a rise out of him, and he hates how it works. It’s almost like a challenge of sorts, Taehyung insinuating that Jeongguk can’t handle his alcohol and would end up sleeping with Taehyung again. Which he won’t—no matter how much wine there is in his system.

And just to prove his point, he turns his attention to the waiter as they come over. “We’ll have a bottle of your best shiraz,” Jeongguk says sweetly.

“Certainly, sir,” the waiter responds with a bow and walks off.

Taehyung looks amused, his smile still barely suppressed. “Is it to ease the nerves?”

“I’m not nervous,” Jeongguk responds, brows tugging into a frown.

“The way you’re tapping your foot against mine says different.”

Jeongguk jerks his leg away. He hadn’t realised he had been doing that, and he clears his throat, straightening himself. “That’s just a habit of mine.”

Taehyung lets his lips stretch into a grin. He places his chin in the palm of his hand, humming softly, looking far too endeared for Jeongguk’s liking. “Right.”

Jeongguk flicks his gaze away, watching the patrons serve drinks and snacks to other tables. The ambience of the place is nice, and Jeongguk can see why Taehyung would suggest such a place. And looking around, other customers seem to be on dates. Sitting close, heads tilted towards one another, words shared through hushed whispers or soft touches. Jeongguk feels his chest begin to warm.

It’s not long before the waiter arrives with the wine, pouring both of them glasses. He tells them the history behind the specific bottle. The vineyards it came from, the year it was harvested, the care taken in its brewing. Jeongguk listens half-heartedly, caught in Taehyung’s stare.

The waiter leaves with another bow after Taehyung has tasted the wine and approved of it. Jeongguk takes a tentative sip, letting the dry red coat his tongue before swallowing.

“Do you like it?” Taehyung asks.

Jeongguk sniffs. “It’s adequate.”

Taehyung laughs, shoulders shaking. He takes another sip of the wine before placing it down, head cocking to the side. “And how many boxes on your checklist does it check?”

Jeongguk narrows his eyes. “I don’t have a checklist for red wine.”

“Well that’s a first,” he says as he leans closer. His voice dips into something private, and it brushes along Jeongguk’s warm skin. “And how about me? How many do I check?”

“Zero.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, leaning back again. “I guess I have my work put out for me then. How many do I need to tick to get into your good graces?”

“Well—seven.”

Taehyung’s brows lift.

“But that’s besides the point,” Jeongguk says matter-of-factly. “You’ve already failed. There’s no fixing the mistake that has been made. And just because we started out with—with that, it just concludes nothing else can ever arise.”

Taehyung stares at him for a moment, forehead pinching. “Right, because that’s how life works. Nothing unexpected ever happens.”

Jeongguk takes another sip before placing the glass down softly. “I know unexpected things happen. But I usually account for them. And after they’ve happened, I move on and continue. It’s worked out for me well so far.”

Taehyung snorts. “Worked out well? By that logic you’d have a boyfriend and would be looking to get settled down somewhere, engaged to be married, even.”

“No,” Jeongguk argues, cheeks heating. “People don’t—they don’t usually make it past the first date.”

Taehyung smirks. “I’m flattered.”

“This is not a date.”

Taehyung hums. He takes a sip of his wine, gaze heavy as it holds Jeongguk’s. “Okay, so tell me just one box on your checklist. When it comes to finding the perfect guy for you.”

Jeongguk hesitates, his lips pursing. Taehyung is looking fairly amused by the whole ordeal, but there’s something serious in his expression, and Jeongguk thinks he wouldn’t make fun of him, no matter what he says. “Well, there has to be some sort of compatibility.”

“Which we have.”

“Sexually, maybe.”

Taehyung wags his brows.

“God,” Jeongguk says, reaching over the table and slapping Taehyung’s forearm. “What are you, twelve?”

Taehyung laughs. He ends up catching Jeongguk’s hand before Jeongguk can pull away, and there’s a short moment where they sit there in silence, palms warm against one another.

Jeongguk eventually pulls the grasp around him loose and gripping the stem of his glass instead. He takes a sip of it. Maybe it could help wash away the lingering warmth of Taehyung’s touch. “What are you doing for the rest of the weekend?”

“I don’t know yet,” Taehyung admits with a shrug.

Jeongguk blinks at him. “How can you not know?”

“It means I don’t know. I’ll see if something comes up. C’est la vie and all that,” Taehyung says, gesturing in the air noncommittally. 

“But you–” Jeongguk stutters. “You have to have some sort of plan. You made a plan for us to meet today, after all.”

Taehyung leans closer. A smile plays along his face, eyes narrowing a bit in a challenge Jeongguk doesn’t want to accept. “And why do you think that was?”

“Oh, I won’t even try dissecting that mind of yours,” Jeongguk deflects, leaning back.

A short burst of laughter escapes Taehyung’s lips. He shakes his head a bit in amusement, playing with the stem of his glass. Jeongguk stares at his long, ringed fingers. “It’s honestly more organized than you might think.”

“I don’t know if I agree with you on that one.”

Taehyung’s lips twitch. “Yes, I can see why you’d think that.”

And it all makes Jeongguk a bit intrigued. Because as chaotic as Taehyung seems to be, it all works for him, somehow. He has a strange kind of order around him, vastly different from Jeongguk, but still manageable in its own way.

“Okay fine, I’ll bite,” Jeongguk sighs.

Taehyung lifts a questioning brow. His lips begin to curve upwards menacingly, and Jeongguk has to speak up before Taehyung manages to tease him on it.

“Not—shut up. I’m quizzing you on your mind.”

“Have at it, then.”

“When do you do laundry?” Jeongguk asks.

“Whenever I don’t have clean underwear left.”

Jeongguk huffs out an incredulous breath through his nose. “Okay, wow. When do you water your plants?”

“Oh, they’re all plastic,” Taehyung responds, chin in the palm of his hands. He seems to be enjoying himself a bit too much.

“How’d you choose your degree?”

“Didn’t really feel like choosing anything so I closed my eyes and randomly pointed at a list of occupations. Picked the one my finger landed on.”

Jeongguk’s jaw drops. “You’re serious.”

“About things that matter,” Taehyung grins. “Worked out well though, don’t you think?”

Jeongguk struggles not to roll his eyes. Honestly, the utter chaos this man is. “How many relationships have you had?” Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung thinks about it for a moment, face scrunching a little. “Two? I guess.”

“And when is the appropriate time to sleep with someone?”

“Maybe…in an hour?”

Jeongguk’s head tilts in confusion. And then understanding dawns on him, and he has half a mind to smack Taehyung again if it weren’t for the heat that rises up his neck at the words. “Honestly, the audacity,” he scoffs.

“Hey,” Taehyung laughs. “Once again, you and your cute little doe-eyes are the ones who came on to me.”

Jeongguk clenches his fists beneath the table. “We were drunk. I don’t have doe-eyes and I certainly wouldn’t flutter them at you.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

Jeongguk’s face scrunches.

“I’m just messing with you,” Taehyung says softly. “It’s cute when you’re flustered.”

Jeongguk huffs, ignoring the comment. “You left your jewelry at mine, by the way,” he says, filling the air with something just to speak over the sudden thump in his heart.

Taehyung looks down at his fingers, a few of them void of any rings. “It would seem so. Are you tempting me to come over to get them?” Taehyung asks, looking back up from his hands. “That’s quite the seduction tactic.”

“You’re not coming over to mine,” Jeongguk snaps, ears burning.

“But my rings are being held hostage,” Taehyung says, leaning in closer. “Are you perhaps looking to keep just one of them?”

The insinuation sits heavy between them until Jeongguk lets out a startled laugh. “Yes, let me just marry the guy who I had a one-night stand with.”

Taehyung stays silent for a moment, watching Jeongguk curiously. And then his cheeks pinken, just slightly. “I mean you talk about relationships and love as if it has to follow this exact structure, step by step.” His voice is quieter, a little hesitant at the edges. Talking straight from his heart for once, maybe. “But I think…sometimes it can just find you, a little suddenly, and the rest of your life is learning how to live around it.”

Jeongguk listens, pulse thrumming beneath his chest, blood rushing through his veins. He exhales slowly, his eyes fixed on the table as he gathers his thoughts. “A single moment can spark something, sure. But sparks can die out,” he says, words softer than he means to. His brows pull together, gaze still pinned to the table because he fears if he looks up, seeing Taehyung will feel an awful lot like stepping off an edge and not knowing if there’s any ground below. “And if you don’t build on it, brick by brick, layer by layer, then there’s nothing left standing.”

Taehyung’s gaze is heavy on him. “And what if you spend so long building that you miss the moment it was already sturdy? What if the house is finished, but you forgot to live in it?”

Jeongguk forces himself to glance up. There’s something right there in Taehyung’s eyes, a question of sorts but also a certain type of resigned understanding of the differences between the two of them. As if he’d be silly to even try and change Jeongguk’s mind.

“Are you gentlemen enjoying your wine?”

Jeongguk startles. Taehyung clears his throat, leaning back and nodding at the waiter. “Yes, thank you.”

The waiter bows before leaving. 

Taehyung swirls the stem of his glass, watching the way it catches the light, and Jeongguk can’t help but think the same about him—beautiful, blinding—something that can shatter in the blink of an eye from the chaos of it all.

He tries to focus on his drink, reciting the plan for the evening in his mind: step one, finish the bottle, step two, go home, alone (!!!). Then, wind down, maybe have another drink and start a new k-drama. But the longer he sits opposite Taehyung, the more impossible it feels to believe in plans and structure. Because structure doesn’t account for the way his pulse skips when Taehyung leans back, his foot accidentally grazes Jeongguk’s. And Jeongguk had never planned to memorize how Taehyung’s mouth looked around a smile, all carefree and warm and utterly devastating.

So he can’t help being a bit huffy as they finish the wine. Taehyung doesn’t comment on it, in all honesty he looks quite endeared by the whole thing, and in no time Taehyung has paid and they’re shrugging on their coats and stepping outside.

And the night greets them with a flurry of snow, flakes catching in Taehyung’s hair as he steps in front of Jeongguk. Wordlessly, he fixes Jeongguk’s scarf, tugging it snug across his throat, then adjusts his hat until it sits properly. Taehyung’s fingers linger, trailing along the curve of his brow before sliding down his nose, booping it once.

And despite the cold air, Jeongguk feels his cheeks warm.

“You’re not coming home with me.”

“Okay.”

**

Once the door slams shut, Taehyung’s hands are all over him. Jeongguk moans as Taehyung pushes him against the door, kissing Jeongguk’s cold lips. They warm instantly, mouth parting as Taehyung licks into it.

“Shoes—”

Taehyung hums against his skin, kicking his shoes off without breaking the kiss. Jeongguk does the same. And then Taehyung is tugging Jeongguk’s scarf off and pulling the zipper to open his jacket, beanie pulled off his head with the other hand. Once a sliver of throat is exposed, Taehyung presses his mouth to it, groaning into Jeongguk’s skin as Jeongguk lets out a whine, arching his neck to give Taehyung better access.

Jeongguk’s tattooed fingers begin to unbutton Taehyung’s coat, and soon it falls to the ground, wetting the floor with the residual snowflakes.

Taehyung’s hands are on his hips then, pulling him away from the door. They step over the discarded shoes and jackets and scarves and hats, keeping the apartment dark as they make their way to Jeongguk’s bedroom, kissing and moaning all the while. 

“Clothes,” Jeongguk breathes against Taehyung’s lips, breaking their kiss to pull the jumper off his head. He begins to work on his belt buckle next, making quick work of it and pulling it out from the loops before letting it drop to the floor with a thud. His cock is throbbing in his jeans as he pulls the zipper down, shimmying them down his thighs. 

“God, your thighs,” Taehyung groans. “I need to suck you off.”

Jeongguk takes a sharp inhale as Taehyung falls to his knees in front of him, still fully clothed. Jeongguk is just in his boxers, cock twitching as Taehyung smooths his long, ringed fingers up and down the muscles of Jeongguk’s thighs. 

Jeongguk’s bottom lip catches between his teeth, watching as Taehyung pulls his boxers down, half-lidded gaze on Jeongguk’s twitching cock.

Taehyung parts his lips, leaning closer and licking at the slit.

“Oh, god,” Jeongguk breathes out, feeling as Taehyung’s wet tongue begins to circle the head of his cock. His hands are on Jeongguk’s thighs, fingertips squeezing lightly against his skin, holding him steady as Jeongguk’s knees begin to wobble.

And when Taehyung looks up, his pupils are blown wide, staring at Jeongguk with something that could almost be considered affection. The view makes Jeongguk let out a whine, bubbling helplessly from his lips.

Then Taehyung begins to take him deeper, tongue roving along the underside of Jeongguk’s cock, cheeks hollowing as he sinks in, inch by inch. Taehyung moans around him as Jeongguk’s cock twitches, the vibrations of it making Jeongguk’s thighs shake, but the hands around him stay firm, grounding.

Taehyung sucks him well, like he’s done this a thousand times before. And maybe he has, knowing exactly when to flick his tongue and when to hollow his cheeks. His mouth is warm and wet and intoxicating, making Jeongguk’s head dizzy.

And it should be embarrassing, how he can already feel the way heat begins to build up in his stomach. So he lets out a little sound from the back of his throat, and Taehyung’s eyes snap to him. He pulls off, mouth shiny with spit and Jeongguk’s precome. “Too much?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. Taehyung stands up, hands on Jeongguk’s hips and maneuvering him a few steps back until Jeongguk’s legs hit the bed, pushing him down. Then he begins to unbutton his own shirt, nimble fingers working fast.

Jeongguk swallows, staring at the way Taehyung’s skin is revealed inch by inch. “This is just—another one night stand. It’s nothing.”

“Right,” Taehyung says, letting his shirt drop to the floor. Jeongguk lets out a breath, eyes roving over Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung’s pants come off next, and then he’s standing in front of Jeongguk in just his boxers, looking down at him with a heated gaze.

And Jeongguk can’t say that he forgot—but he’s reminded of it with glaring obviousness as Taehyung begins to pull down his boxers. Because Kim Taehyung is big. He has big hands, big feet, long limbs and broad shoulders, so of course his cock was also big.

Jeongguk’s mouth dries.

“You can take it again, can’t you, darling?”

Jeongguk’s head spins as Taehyung’s hands come to his shoulders, pushing him down. Taehyung’s knees bracket him, and he straddles Jeongguk, sitting down on his thighs, hands sliding up Jeongguk’s torso. Once they reach his nipples, Taehyung begins to play with them, flicking and squeezing the perky buds.

Jeongguk’s hips buck on instinct. Taehyung shushes him, fingers skimming higher and higher and his body follows along, folding down and pressing on top of Jeongguk, bracketing him. 

Taehyung’s weight on him is solid and firm, and Jeongguk finds himself sinking into the safety of it all. He sighs against Taehyung’s lips as Taehyung kisses him once more. Their cocks press together, and Taehyung begins to do this soft roll of his hips that has Jeongguk keening, breathing heavily into Taehyung’s mouth.

Taehyung smells heavenly, all musky and manly and his stubble brushes along Jeongguk’s cheek as he brings his lips to Jeongguk’s ear.

“Turn around for me, will you?”

Jeongguk nods automatically. Taehyung’s voice is soft and low as he speaks, guiding his movements. Taehyung lifts his weight off, standing up from the bed. His cock seems achingly hard, red and leaking, and Jeongguk stares for a few seconds before remembering the instructions he was given.

As he turns around and lays stomach down on the center of the bed, his cock rubs along his blankets, and he moans softly, circling his hips like he can’t quite help himself. Behind him, he hears Taehyung opening up his bedside drawer, and Jeongguk’s skin flushes with the fact that Taehyung remembers where he keeps his lube.

And then there’s a dip in the mattress as Taehyung plants a knee on it. Taehyung’s large hand comes to Jeongguk’s ass, gripping one cheek firmly and pulling it to the side.

“Fuck.”

Jeongguk flushes once more, pressing his forehead into the crook of his elbow. Taehyung presses his thumb against Jeongguk’s hole, circling it, watching as Jeongguk clenches around it, attempting to suck it in.

“Are you that eager, darling?” Taehyung murmurs, his other hand opening the bottle of lube. Jeongguk breathes noisily in response, back arching as he feels a slicked up finger replace the thumb. Taehyung’s other hand smoothes up his spine as his long finger begins to press in.

Jeongguk lets out a soft gasp, biting down on his bottom lip at the intrusion. Taehyung’s finger pushes all the way until it reaches his knuckle, holding still for a moment before he begins to pull out, just to repeat the motion.

“You’re taking it so well,” Taehyung whispers, voice a bit breathless. “Such a good boy.”

Jeongguk’s hole clenches at the words, causing Taehyung to moan. “Fuck, you’re going to do that around my cock too, aren’t you?”

Jeongguk whines, nodding his head. His thighs shake as Taehyung keeps slowly pushing in and out, eventually adding a second finger. They scissor him open, all the while Taehyung whispers praises and hushed compliments, making Jeongguk’s muscles relax and his chest flutter.

There’s something about the soft way Taehyung handles him, like he knows exactly what Jeongguk needs. As if he takes in every sound and every twitch and adjusts his actions based on the reactions Jeongguk gives him.

Taehyung adds in a third finger. There’s a slight burn to it, and Jeongguk lets out a sound. His voice cracks. “Taehyung—”

“Mm? What do you need?”

“Close,” Jeongguk responds. “Come close.”

It’s almost instantaneous, the way Taehyung’s body presses against his own. His chest rests along Jeongguk’s shoulderblade, cock nestled against Jeongguk’s hip, and his lips press along the side of Jeongguk’s neck. “Is this good?” Taehyung asks between kisses.

Jeongguk sighs, nodding a few times. The sheets beneath his fingers bundle and scrunch as Taehyung’s mouth leaves wet trails down his neck. 

“Do you think you’re ready for hyung?”

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side to capture Taehyung’s lips with his own. “Please,” he whispers, groaning as Taehyung pulls his fingers out. Taehyung moves away from Jeongguk, and Jeongguk whines at the loss of his touch, one hand reaching out.

“Just a moment,” Taehyung laughs, utterly too fond. There’s the sound of foil ripping and the bottle of lube being opened again, and Jeongguk’s ears burn, digging his head once more into the crook of his elbow.

“Do you want to stay on your stomach?” Taehyung asks. The bed dips once more, and Jeongguk moans as Taehyung’s hands slide up his thighs and grasp his ass, pulling the cheeks apart. “Is that what you want?” Taehyung asks again, voice dropping lower.

Jeongguk nods, breathless, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t think he could face Taehyung right now, seeing that dark and heated gaze aimed right at him. He wouldn’t last very long, not when he would be able to see the pleasure on Taehyung’s face, see the way his mouth curves around a moan.

Jeongguk lifts his hips up just slightly as Taehyung places a cushion underneath him, ass wiggling in Taehyung’s grip and he can hear as Taehyung’s breath hitches at the sight. Taehyung lets out a low curse, and Jeongguk’s breath gets trapped in his lungs as he feels Taehyung situate behind him, the head of Taehyung’s cock catching on his rim.

And then Taehyung begins to press in. A whine catches in his throat, and it bubbles out as a breathless mewl. Taehyung is just so big, and even though he thoroughly prepped Jeongguk, Jeongguk can still feel the stretch of it as Taehyung’s cock slowly pushes to the very hilt.

Taehyung leans down, groaning right into Jeongguk’s ear, covering Jeongguk’s body with his own from head to toe, just like he knows Jeongguk likes it. His elbows are planted by Jeongguk’s ribs, hands dipping beneath Jeongguk’s and pulling his shoulders close to his own. His knees are on both sides of Jeongguk’s thighs, bracketing him with skin and heat and Jeongguk had never felt so secure in his life.

Taehyung drags his nose along Jeongguk’s nape, kissing the side of his throat. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Just like how I remembered. So tight and warm.”

Jeongguk positively keens as Taehyung begins to drag his cock out just to push back in. The pillow beneath his hips forces Taehyung’s cock deeper, and Jeongguk sees stars as Taehyung bottoms out again, holding still for an excruciating moment as he licks a stripe up Jeongguk’s throat and nibbles on Jeongguk’s ear. “Hyung—”

Taehyung pulls out again just to slam back in. Jeongguk moans, loud and high-pitched. “Such a pretty boy with your pretty tattoos and your pretty muscles. You’re so precious, aren’t you?”

Jeongguk nods, light and dizzy. Taehyung lets out a rumbling laugh which vibrates into Jeongguk’s very core. If it weren’t for the steady press of Taehyung against him, his whole body would be shaking. When Taehyung thrusts in, the head of his cock presses over his prostate, making Jeongguk’s toes curl and another whine is punched right out of his gut.

Taehyung begins to build up a steady rhythm, hitting that same spot again and again and again. Skin slapping against skin, the room fills with their moans. Jeongguk pulls Taehyung’s hands further up, threading their fingers together and squeezing tight. It may even hurt, but the desperation in it makes Taehyung moan, thrust even harder.

“Do you feel how hard I am inside you?” Taehyung asks, tongue flicking out and toying with Jeongguk’s ear. “That’s all because of you. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Jeongguk moans. He begins to roll his hips in sync with Taehyung’s, rutting against the pillow, feeling the fabric of it drag along his cock. “Hyung is so big.”

“And you take me so well, darling,” Taehyung praises. “Look at you, clenching around my cock like that.”

Jeongguk squeezes Taehyung’s hands tighter. Taehyung groans, pushing his hips up, fucking Jeongguk with deep thrusts. “I’m gonna—” Jeongguk whimpers, feeling as Taehyung’s cock hits his prostate once more. His whole body is shaking, stomach muscles tense as he feels the heat begin to build up as Taehyung keeps working his hips

“Get yourself off on the pillow while I fuck you,” Taehyung says. “That’s it, love,” he urges as Jeongguk’s movements become more desperate. His cheeks are flushed, skin hot and sweaty, and he tilts his head to the side to capture Taehyung’s lips with his own.

Taehyung moans into his mouth, tongue pressing past Jeongguk’s lips and tangling with his own. The kiss is wet and uncoordinated, tongues licking against each other and hot breaths breathed into each other’s mouths. Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut, hips stuttering as he cries out, coming all over the pillow beneath him. “Taehyung,” he gasps out, rolling his hips to ride out his orgasm, clenching around Taehyung’s cock so hard that Taehyung lets out a low groan, muscles locking as he rocks into Jeongguk hard, spurting into the condom.

Jeongguk lets out a breathless gasp, head dropping against the mattress. Taehyung is still thrusting weakly, catching his own breath, head buried in the crook of Jeongguk’s neck. Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut, his body spent, sinking into the feeling of Taehyung’s strong body draped over him so heavily.

“Good?” Taehyung asks, voice low and gravelly and it drags along Jeongguk’s heated skin, causing him to let out another whine.

“Mmhm,” he responds, all other words lost to him.

Taehyung chuckles before softly pulling out. Both of them hiss at the overstimulation, but then Taehyung is running a soothing hand over the notches of Jeongguk’s spine and pulling the pillow out from underneath him.

Jeongguk lets him, shifting his body so that he’s laying on his side while Taehyung walks to the bathroom to dispense the used condom. He comes back with a wet towel, and Jeongguk feels his ears heat up as Taehyung wordlessly cleans him. When he’s done, he takes the towel and pillow and throws them in the laundry hamper. 

Then the faucet squeaks on, the sound of water running as Taehyung must be washing his face and brushing his teeth with the spare toothbrush Jeongguk still hasn’t thrown away.

By the time Taehyung is back, Jeongguk has enough strength to be softly coaxed up on shaky legs. He splashes water on his overheated face, stares himself down in the mirror—cheeks still flushed, pupils blown, mouth red and swollen from Taehyung’s lips.

When he returns, Taehyung is already under the covers, scrolling through his phone. His eyes flick up at Jeongguk with a soft smile, lingering for a beat too long before dropping back to the screen. 

Jeongguk hesitates for a moment before lifting the blanket and sliding in. Taehyung sets his phone aside with a soft clatter, the light from the screen vanishing and leaving the room in darkness.

And if this was a mistake, Jeongguk thinks once more, then he should probably tell Taehyung to leave. He should push him away before the lines blur any further, save them both the trouble. But his body is heavy with exhaustion, mind still hazy with the afterglow of his orgasm, and the moment his head hits the pillow his eyes slip shut.

And maybe it’s his imagination, maybe it’s already the dream which is pulling him under, but he swears he can feel the press of lips against his forehead, so soft and tender that it could have easily been imagined. But whether it was real or only a dream, Jeongguk lets himself sink into it, because either way he knows exactly whose mouth it was.

**

When Jeongguk wakes up, the other side of the bed is empty. He frowns a little, hearing someone clatter around in his kitchen. There’s the sound of the fridge opening and something sizzling on the pan. A silent curse lilts through the air, loud enough to reach Jeongguk’s ears. 

He sits up, the covers pooling around his waist as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. And humiliation coils within his chest—because it’s a bit pathetic, isn’t it? 

How Jeongguk just can’t seem to keep his hands to himself for some reason. How desperately he clings to Taehyung while simultaneously refusing to acknowledge how good it feels to have Taehyung around him. 

And now it sounds like Taehyung not only stayed the night, but is currently - or at least attempting to - cook breakfast.

Jeongguk glances at the floor where most of their clothes still lay, strewn around messily. He swallows, taking in a deep breath to brace himself before getting up and heading to his closet, taking out a pair of fresh boxers and putting them on. He pulls out a large, black t-shirt and throws it on before padding out of the room.

And there Taehyung stands, in his kitchen, shirtless, pouring milk into a cup of coffee. Noticing Jeongguk walking over, Taehyung’s gaze lands on him. “Morning.”

“You’re still here.”

Taehyung arches his brow. “Perceptive.”

“And you’re making…breakfast?”

“Attempting to,” Taehyung corrects with a nod. He offers him the cup of coffee. Jeongguk accepts it speechlessly. 

He clutches it close to his chest as he watches Taehyung pile some eggs and bacon onto a plate. “I can’t believe you raided my fridge and then singed the bacon. Look, it's all…crisp around the edges.”

Taehyung shrugs. “Gave it some personality.” He places the plate in front of Jeongguk, jutting his chin. “Go on,” he urges.

Jeongguk eyes Taehyung hesitantly before he sits down on the stool and picks up a fork, picking up a piece of bacon and munching down on it.

And fuck—the crispiness is good. And it may show on his face, as Taehyung wears a pleased little smile as he watches Jeongguk eat, arms over his bare chest and his hip resting against Jeongguk’s kitchen counter. 

He looks, well, he looks at home. Relaxed and at ease, hair still a mess and eyes a bit puffy from sleep. Jeongguk has to look away, stare down at the bacon in front of him because looking at Taehyung didn’t do him any good, not really.

They slept together again, even when Jeongguk said he wouldn’t. And it makes something unfurl in his chest, panicky and apprehensive, because once more he couldn’t resist temptation.

“Do you cook for all of your other hookups?” Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung laughs, pushing himself off the counter and sauntering past Jeongguk, back towards the bedroom. “What hookups?”

Jeongguk listens to the shuffle of clothes as Taehyung dresses, the bathroom door clicking shut softly, the sound of taps running. He keeps picking at the bacon, swallowing half-heartedly, stomach twisting with a weird mix of guilt and longing. 

Because sleeping over, furthermore making breakfast, just sits so high up on the domesticity scale that Jeongguk hadn’t even added it to the checklists he made. This was like, full-blown boyfriend territory. And they definitely weren’t that.

And it all comes back to him again, pressing against his throat, a little dizzyingly. Taehyung’s soft laugh last night, those whispered words in the dark, the heat of his body against Jeongguk’s. Each memory pulses in his chest, in his veins, a rhythm Jeongguk both craves and fears. Because it’s not according to plan. Not anything like he intended. And yet, he keeps making the same mistake, over and over, falling for this chaos that is not supposed to exist in Jeongguk’s life, because it’s scary and messy and well…a little real. 

When Taehyung steps out of the bedroom, fully dressed now, a droplet of water clinging to his jaw, Jeongguk’s stomach twists in protest. Because he’s handsome, just so handsome. Too casual, too at home, like he does this all the time. And maybe Taehyung notices the way Jeongguk stares at him, because the small, easy smile falters, just a fraction, like he’d been expecting Jeongguk’s pained expression, and it makes Jeongguk’s chest tighten even more.

Jeongguk opens his mouth to say something, but Taehyung beats him to it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave.”

Jeongguk’s mouth snaps shut, words choking somewhere in his throat.

Taehyung crouches down to put his shoes on, followed by his jacket and scarf, and all the while Jeongguk sits on the kitchen stool, watching him, helplessly. And maybe a part of him should tell Taehyung to stay—to share the pieces of crispy bacon and perfectly brewed coffee. But he doesn’t.

“Well,” Taehyung says, not meeting his eyes. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Jeongguk says weakly, barely audible.

Taehyung gives him a smile before he’s out of the door. Jeongguk slumps down on the chair a bit, now just idly prodding at the bacon, pushing it around the plate. Eventually, he drags himself towards the bedroom.

The bed is made, the mess on the floor cleaned up, Jeongguk’s clothes thrown into the washing hamper. Jeongguk’s gaze lands on his bedside table, on the empty space where Taehyung’s rings from last time had been.

They’re gone.

All evidence of Taehyung being there erased. All that remains is the musky trace of him, still lingering in the air. 

And the thing is, Jeongguk’s stomach shouldn’t twist at the emptiness of the room. His chest shouldn’t suddenly feel too small, breath trapped in some uncooperative corner of his throat, caught in a confusing game of wanting to run and wanting to stay. And yet it does. And he really, really doesn’t know why.

**

“There, there,” Jimin says, petting Jeongguk’s hair soothingly.

Jeongguk groans against the table, thumping his forehead against it a few times until Jimin wedges his hand between Jeongguk’s head and the wood.

“I mean, once? I can chalk it down to just a coincidence,” Seokjin says, placing his matcha latte back onto the platter with a little clink. “But twice, Jeongguk-ah…”

“It’s still just a coincidence. There is nothing going on between us,” Jeongguk bemoans miserably. He lifts his head up, lest he embarrasses himself in such a public place like a little kid throwing a tantrum. This is the coffee shop he and Jimin frequently visit, and he’d prefer not getting banned from the premises due to, what, crying about bad decisions and having good sex?

“Can you stop sleeping with him then?” Jimin suggests sweetly.

Jeongguk glares at his best friend. The oversized hoodie he’s drowning in suddenly feels like the only safe place on earth, and he considers pulling the hood up and never emerging again. 

“It’s not a hard ask.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to sleep with him,” Jeongguk argues.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Seokjin mutters under his breath, dabbing latte foam from the corner of his mouth with the napkin Jeongguk chucks at his head. 

“I won’t again.” Neither of them looks convinced. Jeongguk huffs and repeats himself. “I won’t.”

“Well in that case,” Jimin says lightly. “I know a guy who is looking for a blind date. Interested?”

Jeongguk hesitates. And he shouldn’t pause, but he does. He hadn’t been on a date in months, and this whole Taehyung catastrophe would be put behind him if he’d say yes. He could meet someone in a proper way. A reset button of sorts. A chance to do things the right way. Date first, kiss on the third, sex on the fifth. That’s how it should be. Predictable. Safe.

So why does he pause? 

“I’m…not sure.”

Jimin looks at him warily, mouth parting to question his response. 

Jeongguk scrambles to think of more to say. “I think maybe I should just…stay single for a while. Everyone I went on dates with before was disappointing.”

It’s a foolish excuse, paper-thin and flimsy, and he doesn’t think his friends believe it in the slightest, but Jimin nods in understanding, his smile a little sympathetic. Jeongguk thinks that perhaps Jimin can see through it—that if all of those men Jeongguk had been with have been so disappointing, why is there one he keeps denying his affections for, and keeps going back to?

**

The week goes by in a blur. Jeongguk barely has time to think about his plans for the weekend, let alone anything other than work.

And it doesn’t make a lick of sense, how when he gets the smallest breath of air between sending emails and running to cubicles to ask for files, how his brain reverts to some cave-man type instinct and he thinks about Taehyung. 

Just small parts of him—snippets of their conversation together at the bar, his hands on Jeongguk’s naked waist, the way he whispered darling into his ear.

It was all a bit scattered in Jeongguk’s mind. The flashbacks, the phantom touches, the whispers, the feelings. Not that there were many feelings—there weren’t. Not on Jeongguk’s end. And definitely not on Taehyung’s end either. Taehyung was too spontaneous and free to have feelings like those. 

Because there was no way that he could look at Jeongguk, sleep with him, and then just decide he liked him. They had skipped like, four major parts of Jeongguk’s checklist, and none of it made sense, and it was all awfully confusing and Jeongguk should seriously place some boundaries for himself and stop sleeping with the guy. It was the only way to end whatever the hell this was. It was the only way to stop Jeongguk from falling headfirst and developing real feelings.

It was the only way that made him feel like this wasn’t the scariest thing he’s ever done.

Currently, it was a few minutes until nine am and Jeongguk needed his second cup of coffee. But he was busy with a spreadsheet, considering leaving it half-complete just so that he could quickly run to the kitchen. 

But then a cup is placed onto his desk, startling him. Jeongguk blinks, staring down at the coffee next to where his fingers were typing along the keyboard. He then shifts his gaze, lips parting as he sees Taehyung staring down at him.

“How did you—”

Taehyung lifts a brow. “How did I know that every morning at nine o’clock, like clockwork, you shuffle over to the coffee machine and make yourself a latte?”

Jeongguk’s cheeks heat. “Look at me a lot, then?”

“I do, actually.”

“Maybe you should be focusing on your work instead.”

Taehyung leans his hip against the edge of Jeongguk’s cubicle. “I finished most of it so I was able to spare a few minutes.”

Jeongguk turns to look at Taehyung’s cubicle. The computer screen is shut off, small piles of paper around it with colourful post-it notes sticking out from every angle. He can’t see it from this distance, but he knows it’s there—a framed picture of him and a friend, pressed cheek to cheek, smiling wide. No worries, no care, just unbridled happiness and unadulterated joy.

Taehyung’s voice draws him back. “And I woke up early today so I did some work from home, just so I’d have more free time. And we have that work party on Friday, so I don’t want to spend every waking moment beforehand slaving away.”

Jeongguk blinks. “We do?”

Taehyung lifts a brow. His hands are folded over his chest, head tilting a little to the side. “You don’t remember that?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flick down to his desk. There’s a calendar there with Friday circled. He would’ve remembered it, eventually, but he’s caught by surprise a little. Usually he doesn’t need the reminder.

He clears his throat. “I’ve just been a little bit distracted lately.”

He can hear the way Taehyung’s lips begin to lift into a smirk. The way he leans in just a little bit closer, eyes dark and playful. “Have you now? Whatever for?”

Jeongguk’s gaze snaps up to him. “Work.”

“I see,” Taehyung responds. He’s still doing his best to contain a smile. “Well I best leave you to it then. Don’t work too hard.”

Jeongguk lets out a sound in acknowledgement as Taehyung trods off, because he doesn’t know what else there is to say, really. Taehyung, apparently, has already worked hard and has finished all he needs to do before midday. Meanwhile Jeongguk has been distracted with thoughts of hands and voices and touches and god forbid, cocks.

He shakes himself out of it, taking in a deep breath and reaching for the cup of coffee Taehyung left on his desk. It’s set at the perfect temperature, with just the right amount of milk. In it, there may even be a dash of brown sugar. It’s not something Jeongguk has put in his coffee before, but for some reason it seems to work, adding in just a hint of sweetness without it being too overwhelming. 

He takes another small sip before softly placing the drink back down on the desk and getting back to work.

**

Jeongguk is exhausted. He spent the whole day working, eating his lunch by the desk, taking only short bathroom breaks, and even stayed an hour overtime. He caught up though, managed to even get a little bit ahead, but as a result his bones feel heavy and his limbs drag behind him as he steps into his apartment with a soft sigh.

His briefcase is dropped to the floor with a thud. Jeongguk toes off his shoes and takes off his jacket, loosening his tie the first chance he gets. The keys and his wallet are tossed onto the countertop with a clatter, and he shuffles towards his bedroom. 

Jeongguk strips off his clothes and heads into the bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping in. The spray of it is hot across his skin, water cascading down his body and loosening his muscles after the long day. His mind drifts away from the emails and the meetings, letting all of it wash away with the stream.

After a while, he finally steps out, drying his hair with the towel before wrapping it around his waist. He fishes out some comfy clothes and puts them on before padding out of the bedroom.

The refrigerator light is bright in the dark of the kitchen. Jeongguk looks inside, letting out a large breath. Thankfully, he still has some leftovers for the previous nights. It’s honestly just the very last of them, and probably won’t fill him up, but it’s better than going to sleep with an empty stomach, so Jeongguk takes the tupperware out and places them onto the counter.

And then his doorbell rings.

Jeongguk frowns before closing the fridge and walking over to his door. He looks out of the peephole to see Taehyung standing on the other side.

Jeongguk’s brows shoot up. His heart skips a beat, and hesitantly, he opens the door. Taehyung is bundled up, scarf wrapped just above his nose, cheeks flushed and pink, a black wooly hat covering his dark hair. And he’s carrying a bag, the rustle of it hitting the side of his thigh.

“Taehyung?” Jeongguk breathes out.

Jeongguk can’t see the smile due to his scarf, but he sees the way Taehyung’s eyes crinkle. “Figured you didn’t have anything to eat since you’ve been so distracted. And I figured I’ve been that distraction, so it seems to be my duty to bring you some food.”

Wordlessly, Jeongguk steps to the side. His hair is still wet from his shower, bare-footed and in just a large t-shirt. Taehyung places the bag of takeout food to the floor before taking off his outerwear. He’s still in his work clothes, a white button-up shirt and smart black pants hugging his frame.

Jeongguk shifts his weight from one side to the other. Because Taehyung is in his apartment once more. Taehyung brought him food, knowing Jeongguk had been busy and distracted. And now Taehyung is humming softly as he pads over to the living room table as if he were right at home, taking out containers of food from the bag and settling them down.

Jeongguk walks to the edge of the table silently, eyes darting to the spread Taehyung is laying out in front of them. There’s galbi, glistening in marinade. Lettuce. A container of kimchi jjigae. Steamed rice in little bowls, still hot enough that the lids of them fog. And finally, a tray of banchan—garlicky spinach, soy-slicked fishcakes, and tiny strips of fried squid.

Taehyung pats the carpet next to him. “Sit.”

Jeongguk does, folding himself down without a word. He watches as Taehyung nudges a bowl of rice in front of him, piling it up further with some galbi and spinach. 

“Did you manage to get your work done? I saw you stayed overtime.”

Jeongguk picks up the chopsticks. “Yeah, eventually.”

Taehyung smiles. “I’m glad. Eat up.”

Jeongguk watches him for a few moments, hesitant and blinking, before he picks up a piece of meat and slips it into his mouth. Satisfied, Taehyung turns to his own food and begins eating, too.

For a few minutes, they eat in silence. Jeongguk builds a ssam, layering a piece of galbi and kimchi, topped with some ssamjang and extra chili onto a lettuce leaf. Taehyung, meanwhile, goes simple with just meat and some salt and sesame oil, not a speck of spice in sight. 

“You don’t like spice?” Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung shakes his head. “I’ve been trying to add more spice to my foods to build up some tolerance, but it just ruins the whole thing for me. It numbs my tongue so much I can’t taste any other flavour.”

Jeongguk’s lips curve upwards. “We’re opposites.”

“It seems so,” Taehyung agrees with a small smile. “But let’s look at the upside, because that gives us variety. We can order almost anything at restaurants and guarantee one of us will be able to eat it.”

“And that’d be me,” Jeongguk shoots back, “since I know spice probably isn’t the only thing you are picky about.”

Taehyung laughs. It’s deep and unrestrained and his smile is wide and box-shaped, white teeth on full display and eyes crinkling at the corners. Jeongguk’s gaze lingers, his chopsticks faltering midair.

Then Taehyung turns to look at Jeongguk, his eyes sparkling. “Defintely not the only thing I’m picky about.”

There’s intention behind the words, Jeongguk can feel it, and it tingles along his skin like static. His face prickles with heat, traitorous, no matter how much he tells himself not to react. 

And then Taehyung reaches for some of the perilla leaves with his chopsticks. Jeongguk watches the way two seem to be stuck together, and Taehyung struggles with prying the second one off. Moving without thinking, Jeongguk leans in, his own chopsticks sliding neatly between the leaves and pulls the bottom one away, separating the two.

“Thank you,” Taehyung murmurs, soft. His cheeks are flushed as he turns back to his food, suddenly very focused on arranging a bite of meat. 

And it’s pretty, Jeongguk thinks, the pink hue along the honeyed skin. When Taehyung does blush, his face does this thing where it becomes a little bashful, shy yet open, vulnerable in a way. And Jeongguk—Jeongguk can’t look away.

Because it all crashes down on him, hits him a little bit there, how Taehyung had been so thoughtful as to bring him food after a long day. How Taehyung consistently seeks him out, expresses his concern and his care and his interest. 

And maybe that’s what makes it worse. Because in a sense, Jeongguk can now admit that Taehyung is everything he has been searching for in a partner - steady, caring and kind, gentle - but also so entirely different. Nothing has happened in the way Jeongguk wanted it to. And still, his pulse syncs with the rhythm of Taehyung’s fingers tapping against the table, as if they were always made to find the same beat.

Nothing has gone according to plan, yet Jeongguk can’t help the way his body seeks for Taehyung underneath the table, legs crossed but bent at such an angle that they brush against Taehyung’s thigh every few while. 

And it’s scary, and confusing, and new, and Jeongguk thinks that maybe all of the checklists and the rules have been something made to prepare him for feelings like these—but now they’ve gone and skipped them all, almost. 

And see the thing about those lists was that the two people in it moved together—it was a certain structure they followed, with check-ins and conversations and they both knew where they stood. And Jeongguk’s heart may flutter treacherously each time Taehyung looks at him now, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same for Taehyung. 

And that was the thing Jeongguk hated most. Uncertainty. It gnaws at his insides like a persistent itch, like he didn’t quite know what to do with a feeling he felt so rarely. And so he tamps the knot in his throat down with another bite of meat. Draws his knee a little inwards so that it no longer brushes against Taehyung’s thigh.

If Taehyung notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

Outside, snow softly patters against the window. Somewhere further away, there’s the honk of a car. They eat in amicable silence, and Jeongguk’s eyes keep landing on Taehyung every few moments. He follows every movement of Taehyung’s lips, the way his throat works, tracing it all, memorizing it without even realizing.

“It was good, right?” 

Jeongguk nods. “Thank you, hyung. How much was it? Let me pay you back—”

“Don’t be silly,” Taehyung mutters, stacking the empty takeout containers tidily and placing them back into the plastic bag for recycling. 

“No, seriously,” Jeongguk says, leaning closer. His hand lands on Taehyung’s thigh before he can really stop himself. “This was so—” his eyes flick down to Taehyung’s lips. The word slips out softer. “Considerate.”

Maybe just—one more taste of Taehyung’s breath against his own. Just one more night with Taehyung’s body pressed against his. Maybe then he can figure out if Taehyung feels the same. Maybe then, Jeongguk can confess and admit what he has been so stubbornly denying.

Taehyung watches him for a fleeting heartbeat. And almost like he can’t help it either, like two magnets pulling together, he tilts his head forward, gaze falling down to Jeongguk’s mouth. But then he blinks, as if realizing what he’s doing, and pulls away.

A small frown pulls at Jeongguk’s brows as Taehyung clears his throat.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk starts.

Taehyung lets out a breath through his nose. It makes Jeongguk’s chest tighten.

“I can’t keep being your mistake,” Taehyung says. It’s spoken so softly that Jeongguk cannot comprehend how the words can squeeze his heart so much. “I can’t—hear those words again. But I’m glad you enjoyed the food, Jeongguk-ah. I’ll get out of your way now.”

As Taehyung begins to stand up, Jeongguk’s hand shoots out. He clasps Taehyung by the wrist, fingers tight along the bone.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung says with a sigh.

“I wouldn’t—call it that again,” Jeongguk says quickly.

Taehyung’s smile is a bit sad. “Even if it’s a ‘maybe,’ I don’t want it.” He pries his wrist free from Jeongguk’s grasp. Jeongguk lets him. “You may think I ‘do this a lot,’ but the truth is that I don’t.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jeongguk blurts out, panic prickling at the edges of his chest as Taehyung picks up the plastic bag and moves towards the door. 

“I know,” Taehyung says, and it looks like he genuinely understands, which in all honesty might make the uncomfortable swirl running amok in Jeongguk even worse.

“Can’t you stay?” Jeongguk asks, fingers clenching into fists to resist the urge to reach out, to touch, to hold. 

Taehyung’s gaze softens, but it’s still pained, scanning the desperation in Jeongguk’s posture.

“No. And I want you to take some time to think everything through.”

Jeongguk’s heart sinks—and it shouldn’t, really. Because in a way this was better, wasn’t it? Taehyung creating that boundary Jeongguk so desperately wanted. Taehyung drawing a line Jeongguk couldn’t muster to do himself.

But then why did it hurt in such a way? Why did Jeongguk feel the backs of his eyes begin to heat, his skin stinging with rejection no matter how softly Taehyung did it. And it was all his fault, he thinks, because he never should have let this happen in the first place. He should have never sought out Taehyung at that work party in the guise of getting to know him better just to end up sleeping with him. But there was just something so—magnetic about Taehyung, a gravity to him that Jeongguk couldn’t resist no matter how much he tried. 

But now Taehyung was slipping on his shoes and shrugging on his coat. And he looks impossibly soft like this, buried in his cotton scarf that bunches against his cheeks, dark lashes fluttering as he exhales through his nose, like he’s bracing himself for the departure he doesn’t quite want to make.

But the door opens nevertheless, and Taehyung has one foot out of it. 

“Hyung,” he tries one final time.

“I’ll see you around, Jeongguk-ah. Sleep well.”

Jeongguk’s shoulders slump as the door closes. He walks over to the window just in time to see Taehyung step outside, making his way down the street as snow softly falls around him.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk whispers.

**

“Why has your life become more dramatic than mine?”

Jeongguk slurps on his noodles, shrugging his shoulders. They’re at an asian fusion restaurant that has just recently opened up, and Jimin had been begging him for weeks now for them to go there. And now that Jeongguk needed a distraction from, well, life, he eagerly accepted. He had let the uncomfortable feeling sit with him for all but half a day before he was calling Jimin and asking to meet up. 

“And just for clarity’s sake, let me get this straight,” Jimin continues, leaning back on his chair. He has a beer in hand, clutching it close to his chest as he watches Jeongguk in disbelief. “You were sad you slept with him—twice, if I may add—”

“You mayn't."

“And now you’re sad you’re not sleeping with him?”

Jeongguk sighs. 

“You’re gonna have to pick a struggle, Guks. And do you want my honest opinion on the matter?”

“Most likely not, but let’s hear it.”

“I think,” Jimin says, beer set down and now pointing a pair of sleek chopsticks at Jeongguk. “That you quite like him. And not just physically. That’s why you seeked him out in the first place. And that little pea brain of yours decided for once to break your own rules and live a more carefree life and you liked the result of that.”

Jeongguk frowns. “But I like my rules.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. And they work for you,” Jimin replies. “In all aspects of life, you seem to be quite content. Except one. Have you figured out which one that is yet?”

Jeongguk stares at him, lips parting in preparation for an argument. “But after what happened to my parents—”

Jimin sighs. “Jeongguk, people get divorced. It happens all the time. There’s nothing you, or anyone else in the world can do to prevent such a thing. You can set up a relationship or take as many precautions as you want to, but some things are inevitable.”

Jeongguk shrinks a little. “Yeah, but…”

Jimin’s eyes turn soft around the edges. “They had a nasty breakup and I’m sorry you were dragged through that. But no amount of preparation can change what the future may hold. And to me, your future is bright.”

Jeongguk sits down heavily in his chair. He motions for the kimchi side dish, and Jimin slides it along the mahogany table. Jeongguk plucks a few cabbage pieces from the shallow bowl and stuffs them into his mouth, chewing as he stares at Jimin. 

Jimin is looking back at him, one eyebrow slowly rising. “Did you want to hear more of my opinions?”

Jeongguk shakes his head, swallowing the food before reaching towards the meat. “God, no.”

Jimin swipes the piece of meat Jeongguk had been aiming for. They end up in a bit of a chopstick tussle, but Jimin comes out victorious, a smug smile on his face as he pops the pork into his mouth.

Jeongguk picks up the final piece which is a bit charred on one end due to Jimin’s cooking. His right knee is bouncing, making his whole chair wobble a bit. “Fine. I’ll admit it,” he says, softly at that. He chews on the meat as Jimin takes another sip of his beer, patiently waiting. “I like him.”

The bottle is placed on the table with a loud clunk and then Jimin is clapping, letting out a cheerful sound in glee.

“Keep it down, will you?” Jeongguk hisses, his ears heating up.

“Oh come on,” Jimin says with a wave of his hand. “Let me rejoice. My baby is finally allowing himself to have feelings.”

“But I’ve gone and fucked it all up though, haven’t I?” Jeongguk asks sulkily, lips pulling downwards. “I called him a mistake.”

Jimin cringes.

“Twice.”

Jimin’s hand flies up to cover his mouth. “No.” The gasp that follows is dramatic, but this time not unwarranted. “To his face?”

Jeongguk looks down in shame.

“You’re a bit too brutal, aren’t you?”

“I was shocked!” Jeongguk defends weakly. “I couldn’t believe I slept with him,” he mumbles.

“Twice,” Jimin adds unhelpfully.

Jeongguk looks up, glaring at him.

“Taehyung is amazing, you know,” Jimin says, undeterred by the gaze pinned at him, leaning close. “He’s so sweet and helps everyone with their work. He’s also really open with communication, so I’m surprised he didn’t press you on it or place any boundaries sooner.”

“He doesn’t care about me.”

“I think he really likes you.”

They’re said at the same time, and both lift a brow at the other. 

“Well, I’m obviously right,” Jimin says with a shrug before Jeongguk has even managed to open his mouth. “He must have not placed a boundary sooner because he hoped maybe you’d, well, change your mind about him, I guess.”

Jeongguk lets out a breath through his nose. “Well I have, and now he hates me.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. 

Jeongguk was being dramatic, he knew it just as well as Jimin did. He thinks Taehyung wouldn’t be capable of hating him, try as he may. Which, granted, Taehyung most likely was not even trying to do. He was just done with Jeongguk’s hesitance. And maybe if Jeongguk had shown just a few more signs of his own interest–other than physical–maybe Taehyung would have continued the pursuit.

But Jeongguk understands why Taehyung did it. He would’ve done the exact same thing if the roles were reversed. But feelings were scary and the future was even scarier and Jeongguk had been burned in the past by witnessing his parents' relationship burst up in flames and choke his lungs.

And maybe Jeongguk could admit that he had noticed Taehyung from the get go when Taehyung started working at the company. How couldn’t he have? Taehyung turned heads just by stepping into the room, all warm and magnetic and bright and carefree and Jeongguk’s brain had turned a bit fuzzy and the checklist he kept for attributes in a partner had been filled with ticks.

And then he avoided Taehyung like the plague because holy hell this could be his future partner and that thought alone was so scary that Jeongguk busied himself with work and lackluster dates with men he knew he wouldn’t see again.

Then came the work party where Jeongguk had drank just a little bit too much and through the inebriation of alcohol his gaze had lingered on Taehyung long enough for the other to take notice. The details were a bit blurry, but Taehyung had begun to orbit closer, and then Jeongguk’s hand was somehow on the small of his back, and Taehyung’s breath was hot against his ear as he leaned in and whispered something. And then, well, it became even more of a blur but Jeongguk ended up in bed with Taehyung’s large, warm hands all around his body and Jeongguk had never felt so free.

“Taehyung doesn’t hate you.”

“I would.”

“Well then you’ll be glad to hear that you are not Taehyung.”

Jeongguk lets out a sigh, slumping back on the chair. “So, what do I do? Text him?”

Jimin’s nose scrunches. “You’re an imbecile.”

Jeongguk frowns. “Hey.”

“You have to do it face-to-face. Just talk to him at the party on Friday.”

“That’s scary.”

“I know,” Jimin says, his voice softer this time. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

**

At work, Taehyung seems to be keeping his distance. When he passes by Jeongguk, he gives him a polite smile, quick and almost rehearsed, before moving on fast enough that chasing him down would turn heads. And by six o’clock sharp, Taehyung’s desk is empty, his clutter of papers nowhere in sight, chair tucked in as if he’s determined to vanish before Jeongguk can even think about following. 

Then during the mornings, Taehyung seems to have a knack of disappearing through the door right as Jeongguk walks through to make his coffee in the office kitchen. It seems Taehyung wasn’t lying when he said he knew Jeongguk’s schedule, and seems to be using this to his full advantage, much to Jeongguk’s frustration.

And maybe, he should stop trying to seek Taehyung out so desperately, because having a conversation to do with feelings might not be the best to be had at work. But then Taehyung appears in the meeting room, or sitting by his cubicle, or worse, in the forefront of Jeongguk’s own mind, and suddenly his chest feels like a live wire, sparking his heart to life. Every polite glance from Taehyung becomes a thrum in his veins, every distant smile sending Jeongguk into another downward spiral.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been this bad if he hadn’t said the words out loud to Jimin, hadn’t admitted what his heart had been beating for long before his brain caught up—Taehyung wasn’t a mistake. But Taehyung doesn’t give him a chance to explain, doesn’t let him stumble over an apology.

So Jeongguk waits. He counts down the hours until Friday, when the office party will hopefully force Taehyung into the same room as him. It’s pathetic almost, he thinks, how much hope he’s pinning on a single night, how he rehearses lines in his head: I’m sorry. I was scared. You’re not a mistake, you’re— 

And see, Jeongguk had never thought of himself as impatient. His whole life has been one big preparation—waiting for the right time, following the right steps, finding the right person to spend his life with. But now, nothing feels right, not really. He feels like his skin doesn’t fit his body, nerves beneath jittery and agitated with each move he makes.

He tells himself the only thing he can do is focus on work. So he alphabetasizes his files and writes another draft for a presentation that doesn’t matter, and drinks his second cup of coffee at nine o’clock on the dot. But it all feels a bit…hollow, really. Because now that he’s had a taste of it, what good is order if Taehyung isn’t there to throw it off balance?

And by Thursday, his stomach is in proper knots. Because he knows Taehyung might not want to hear him out. He knows he may be avoided or brushed off again, but if he doesn’t try, he thinks he’ll lose Taehyung for good. And that, truly, would be the biggest mistake of all.

**

“Just go talk to him, you absolute knobhead.”

Jeongguk shoots Jimin a look. It’s a half glare, the other half a wide-eyed panic that makes Jimin roll his eyes. When Jeongguk doesn’t move, Jimin shoos him away like one would perhaps a stray cat, and Jeongguk stumbles over his shoes a little, catching himself by the wall of a cubicle. 

Office parties really aren’t anything grandiose. They’re mostly an excuse for drinking after the week is over, raiding the kitchen for plastic cups and budget snacks. And they weren’t necessarily mandatory, but Jeongguk learned the hard way that skipping them earned you glances come the next Monday morning, like people were doubting your lack of ‘team spirit’. After it happened to him once, he’s attended every party since.

Which means it was also expected that Taehyung would be attending, but Jeongguk still felt his breath catch in his throat the moment Taehyung had walked in. 

Because tonight Taehyung is dressed in a loose black shirt tucked into slacks that hang perfectly off his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off the golden skin and slope of his forearms. His hair is styled back, revealing his forehead with a few strands falling across his eyes.

After seeing him, Jeongguk made sure Jimin knew where the closest defibrillator was, just in case Taehyung would do something drastic—like look at him.

But currently, he is speaking with Hoseok, with the latter laughing loudly at something Taehyung said. Taehyung looks rather pleased with himself, a bashful and light grin on his face, a rare kind of smile Jeongguk had privately seen once or twice. It stops him in his tracks, almost, makes his chest feel all fluttery yet tight.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Hoseok greets loudly as he spots Jeongguk walking over.

“Hi,” Jeongguk says softly, watching the way Taehyung’s smile falls a little, turning more reserved. “Hi, Taehyung.”

“Hey,” Taehyung responds.

Hoseok throws an arm over Jeongguk’s shoulder, pulling him close. His drink sloshes a bit, but he moves it away just in time to not splash over any of their clothes. “How’s our youngest one doing? Ready for the weekend?”

“I don’t really have any plans,” Jeongguk mumbles.

“That should be a public announcement,” Taehyung jokes with a small smile. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees with a nod before continuing. “How come? You usually have your whole month planned in advance.”

Jeongguk shrugs beneath Hoseok’s arm, taking a sip of his drink. In a surge of bravery, he flicks his eyes to Taehyung, holding his gaze. “I guess I wanted to create some space for other things. In case something unexpected happens.”

And see, Taehyung is usually great at schooling his expressions. He knows exactly what to show and how to act, but the words must catch him a bit off guard, as there’s a small, confused tug pulling his brows inward.

Hoseok pulls his arm away just to smack his bicep. “I like the sound of that. Shall we go rock climbing tomorrow?”

“Um,” Jeongguk says awkwardly, blinking at him. “No.”

Hoseok blows a raspberry before stealing Jeongguk’s drink out of his hand and walking away. Jeongguk huffs after him, rubbing at the spot he had been hit before turning to look at Taehyung, who is standing uncharacteristically awkward.

“Nice party?” Taehyung asks, voice a little stilted, attempting for something casual.

“Same as every month.”

“Right…” Taehyung murmurs, eyes flickering away.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath. “Look, Taehyung. Can we talk?”

Taehyung’s fingers still on his drink, just for a second, before he glances around, perhaps in search of an escape, and adopts that same, polite smile that Jeongguk has begun to hate. “Not here.”

Jeongguk’s shoulders slump, even as the frustration in his chest begins to grow. “Then where? When? You avoid me like the plague.”

“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung says. It’s soft and filled with emotion and sounds an awful lot like finality. “Jimin seems to be setting up the dusty karaoke machine. You should go sing with him before he drags someone unwilling.”

“Tae—”

“Taehyung, sweetheart, there you are.”

Jeongguk’s mouth pulls down, heart only half-spoken as Taehyung gets crowded by a few coworkers, effectively cutting their conversation short.

“So handsome with your hair like that—” one gushes

“Where is your bracelet from, I might have to get a matching one—” another chimes in.

Jeongguk feels his expression turn dark, sulky, even as he tries to school it. His jaw ticks as he watches Taehyung thank them with a blinding, easy smile, and Jeongguk feels jealousy thrum through his core as a hand lands onto Taehyung’s forearm, squeezing it softly before letting go.

He takes a step back to watch from more of a distance, as if being afar would stop the coil in his stomach. But then Taehyung’s eyes land on him from between the crowd, like he knew exactly where Jeongguk stood even after moving positions. And his eyes soften, just a little, like he’s saying don’t worry about them.

The tension in Jeongguk loosens instantly, but then Taehyung’s eyes pull away once more and Jeongguk is left pouting, and he turns on his heel and heads over to the kitchen. Hoseok had stolen his drink earlier anyway. 

But for the rest of the night, Taehyung doesn’t turn to look at him again. Jeongguk knows, because he’s done nothing but stare. Stare at the way Taehyung’s head tips back as he laughs. Stare at the way people hover around him, seemingly almost lined up to have a chat, to feel that intoxicating feeling of Taehyung’s attention on them.

Because Taehyung is friendly to everyone. Touchy, but not overly. He might place a hand on someone’s shoulder when he laughs, or hover over the small of their back as he passes by, but never anything more. Never anything like the way he would press his entire body against Jeongguk’s, warm and secure and sheltering. 

And he might whisper a joke or a remark into someone’s ear, but his lips would never graze the shell of it, never linger for a breath too long. All of that had been reserved for Jeongguk alone—except now.

Jeongguk hates it. The jealousy stings sharp, but it’s the guilt that festers in his chest, digging deeper because of Jimin’s words when he said Taehyung must have really liked you. And yet Jeongguk had pushed him away and made him feel like he probably wasn't good enough for Jeongguk, made him feel unwanted and as if he were some kind of mistake, when in fact it was the polar opposite. 

When the structure and the checklists and the rules were forgotten for a moment, Jeongguk felt alive. Awakened almost, in a sense, like he couldn’t quite believe life could be like this. There was the spontaneous thrill of it all, not knowing what would happen next but Taehyung was there—so it all shouldn’t have felt so scary.

But Jeongguk had been too late to recognise that. Or had refused to, perhaps.

And Taehyung may have brushed him off for now, but Jeongguk was nothing if not resilient. So he keeps his gaze on Taehyung for most of the evening, watches the way the clock strikes 11pm, meaning it’s late enough into the night to make a polite exit without people complaining.

And Taehyung does. He slips out of the office silently, surprisingly stealthily seeing the spotlight he usually has on him. Jeongguk notices though, of course he does. And it takes everything in him not to follow him instantly, to chase after the shape of Taehyung’s absence. His legs itch to move, but then Jimin is pulling him into another karaoke song and Jeongguk thinks that maybe Taehyung wants a moment alone anyway, to take a breather from all of the attention which is always cast on him.

So he sings the song, laughing and giggling as Jimin belts out the lyrics at full volume, and then Hoseok is pulling him into another conversation where he tries to convince Jeongguk to go rock climbing with him for some reason once more—which Jeongguk refuses, again. And then the three of them sit in the kitchen, perched on top of the counter and have a heart to heart where Jimin drunkenly declares the next time the barista asks for his name, he'll recite his number instead, hoping that Yoongi will somehow overhear it and take the hint.

Jeongguk, much more sober, having only had half a beer, tells him that it sounds a bit counterintuitive and seems an awful lot like Jimin would be hitting on the barista instead, which Hoseok vehemently nods along to. But Jimin argues that Jeongguk should shove his opinions alongside his cowardice right up his ass, and says at least he’s bold enough to speak his truth, which Hoseok once more has to agree with.

Jeongguk, after being taken slightly aback by the brashness of it all, tells him that unlike Jimin, at least there’s been something up his ass recently, which should indeed give his opinions some sort of weight, and that Jimin could go and fuck right off. And because Jeongguk has always been a bit competitive, he furthers his point by saying that out of the two of them, he will be the first one with a boyfriend. And Jimin asks where exactly this surge of confidence has come from, wondering with Hoseok if getting railed by Taehyung did something magical and finally fucked some sense into Jeongguk, which has Jeongguk huffing and puffing and giving him some not so nice gestures with his finger that Jimin brushes away with an unbothered hand.

And then he can finally peel himself away from his friends and he finds Namjoon. Buttoning up his jacket, Namjoon lifts a brow as Jeongguk approaches him.

“Hey.”

“Jeongguk-ah,” Namjoon greets with a smile. “Heading out too?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says with a nod. He picks up his coat and his scarf, shrugging them on. “But I also had a favour to ask. You’ve been to Taehyung’s place before, right?”

Namjoon blinks, looking at Jeongguk’s sheepish smile as they step outside. It’s getting close to midnight now, the air crisp and cold, snow softly falling. It’s dark apart from the street signs and the neon lights from the convenience store at the corner of the street.

“I have,” Namjoon responds slowly.

Jeongguk gives him the most blinding, pleading smile he can muster. “Please give me his address, hyung.”

**

The cold air wraps around his hand as he rings the buzzer, holding his breath. His foot taps against the snow, ears and cheeks frosty and pink. He blinks a snowflake away from his lashes as he waits.

He actually doesn’t even know if Taehyung is home, but hopes that maybe he is. Maybe, he’ll be willing to listen. Maybe, Jeongguk could make all of this right. 

“Hello?” A tinny voice comes through the speaker. A bit muffled, and confused, but Jeongguk recognises it as Taehyung, nevertheless.

“Hi—it’s Jeongguk.”

He waits with bated breath as the line is silent for a few moments. 

“Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk clenches and straightens his fingers. “That’s me. It’s really cold down here, hyung.”

The line cuts instantly and the buzzer beeps again, indicating the door being unlocked. Jeongguk smiles to himself a little as he opens it and steps through into the apartment building. 

A minute later, he’s made it to Taehyung’s floor and hesitantly walks over to the door. Taehyung certainly must be expecting him by now, so before the nerves can get the better of him, Jeongguk raps his fist against the door twice.

Not a second passes before the door is opened. It’s so fast, in fact, that Jeongguk’s fist is still raised in the air, and he ends up doing a little wave with it before he drops his hand back down.

Taehyung must have showered and changed already. His hair is slightly wet at the tips, skin still a bit flushed pink from the hot steam, bare-footed and in grey sweats and a white t-shirt.

“I’m trying out this whole spontaneous thing,” Jeongguk tells him.

Taehyung blinks.

“Do you want to go on a date?” Jeongguk asks. “Like—right now.”

Taehyung stares at him. “It’s just past midnight.”

“It is,” Jeongguk says with a nervous smile.

“And you want to go on a date?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk breathes out. “Do keep up.”

Taehyung’s lips twitch. His fingers drum along the doorframe, contemplating for a few moments. But Jeongguk’s face is earnest and pleading, eyes wide and doe-like and he knows what it must do to Taehyung.

Taehyung sighs softly, relenting fast. “Give me a minute.”

Jeongguk smiles, heart fluttering as Taehyung smiles back at him. It’s small and tentative, but it’s warmer than just polite this time. The door closes again, and Jeongguk walks over to the window at the end of the hallway to stare at his reflection and fix his hair. 

Taehyung emerges not a moment later, bundled up in his jacket and scarf. He holds a cotton hat in his hands, loosely gripped, swaying between his fingers as he approaches Jeongguk. 

Then, right as he’s in front of Jeongguk, he smiles once more, placing the black hat on Jeongguk’s head.

“You’ll get cold otherwise,” Taehyung murmurs, sweeping a few strands of Jeongguk’s hair out of his eyes and tucking them under the beanie.

Words lodged somewhere in his throat, Jeongguk lets out a small sound of gratitude before gesturing towards the stairs. Their steps echo as they make their way down, the rest of the apartment building already in deep sleep.

But Jeongguk feels wide awake. Idly, he wonders if his heart is beating so rampantly that Taehyung can somehow hear it over the stomp of their shoes. But soon they make it outside, and the sound of the occasional car passing by muffles any other sound.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Jeongguk falters. His face must fall a bit, brows furrowing somewhere beneath Taehyung’s hat. “I don’t have one.”

Taehyung laughs. Endeared and so, so warm, Jeongguk firmly believes the sound alone could stave off the cold air surrounding them.

“I don’t think many places are open anymore,” Jeongguk continues. “But the convenience store is.” It’s posed more as a question, tone rising at the end and hesitation in his voice.

It’s a horrible date, unplanned and cheap as far as Jeongguk is concerned. And maybe he should’ve thought about this more, because Taehyung is finally giving him a chance to talk and a chance to make amends, and now he’s taking him to a convenience store for their first official date. It should be laughable, honestly.

But Taehyung nods, still keeping that soft smile on his face. “Okay,” he agrees, easy as ever.

Jeongguk lets out a relieved breath, wisps of white escaping his lips and out into the frigid air. They begin walking down the street and towards the green neon light, indicating a CU.

Jeongguk holds the door and lets Taehyung walk through first. Taehyung dips his face down, hiding beneath his scarf, but not before Jeongguk catches the pink blush on his cheeks. And he knows that it could be from the cold air, but he doesn’t think it is the reason.

He follows after him, greeting the cashier in the otherwise empty store. Taehyung watches him expectantly, and Jeongguk tamps down the nerves which flutter in his chest. 

“Do you like hot chocolate? I thought maybe we could have some and then go for a walk or find a park or then maybe—”

“Sounds amazing, Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung interrupts softly.

Jeongguk nods once, bustling about at the self-service station with Taehyung hovering close by, watching him. And Jeongguk is thankful for the hat and the high collar of his jacket, giving him some semblance of cover. Because otherwise Taehyung would be able to spot the warmth rising up his neck, the way his lips part to draw in air because breathing through his nose feels impossible when his chest is tight and his pulse is racing too fast to keep up. 

After he’s done making the hot chocolates, he pays for them and hands Taehyung one. Taehyung takes it, their fingers brushing, sending another wave of nerves through Jeongguk’s whole body.

And even as they step back outside, his hand still tingles, warm against the cold air. Taehyung matches his pace as they begin walking down the street, cardboard cups clutched to their chests, the snow crunching beneath their shoes.

They share just a few off-handed comments before they find a park. There’s a children’s playground, and Jeongguk shyly offers to go on the swings, which Taehyung, of course, accepts.

“Thank you for giving me a chance to explain myself,” Jeongguk says once they’re settled down. His feet are still on the ground, softly rocking the swing back and forth with the tips of his toes and the heels of his feet.

“Who gave you my address?”

Jeongguk looks sheepish. “Namjoon.”

Taehyung hums, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Jeongguk watches him for a moment. Ashy, long lashes flutter against his cheekbones as Taehyung once more digs his face into his scarf, swinging softly on the swing. He’s so handsome Jeongguk sometimes wonders how he’s even allowed the privilege to look.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk blurts out.

Taehyung flicks his eyes to Jeongguk. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk repeats, firmer this time. He takes a bracing breath before letting it all out in one gush of air. “Nothing about you, or us, was a mistake. I—I liked sleeping with you. Being with you.”

Taehyung lets out a little huff.

“It’s just…nothing happened according to plan,” Jeongguk says, whispering, almost. He can feel Taehyung’s gaze still on him, but he barrels on. “I’ve watched relationships fail all around me. And I don’t want that for myself. So I thought if I’d structure and plan it out like I did the rest of my life, it would work out, too.”

Taehyung tilts his head, studying him for a long moment. His scarf shifts as he exhales, exposing a smile that looks a little sad around the edges.

“You think I don’t know you plan everything?” Taehyung asks quietly. “That you keep your life so neat and tidy because it feels safer that way?” He looks down, dragging a slow line in the snow with the toe of his shoe. 

Jeongguk’s chest tightens.

“I didn’t mind that you were scared—frankly, I was too, a little.” Taehyung looks at him then, his eyes soft. “I don’t need you to throw out your plans, or to be someone you’re not, because I know it’s all a part of you. It’s one of your charms. But I just needed to know I wasn’t something you regretted.”

“Never.” The response is instant, and firm enough for Taehyung to blink once before letting out a quiet laugh. “Never,” Jeongguk repeats. “You were never the mistake, just the way it happened was. And even that isn’t true—I just, yeah. And it took me a while to figure that out and I’m so sorry, Taehyung. I…like you. I really like you.”

Taehyung’s eyes fill with warmth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk nods, sounding more confident than what he actually is. Because feelings were scary, and messy, and now his were out in the open, breathed into the cold air and hoping to reach Taehyung’s heart. “And I’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

“A step-by-step plan?” Taehyung asks softly.

“Oh, it’s already in action. Step one, confess.”

“And that’s done.”

“Step two,” Jeongguk says, swallowing. “Kiss to show how much I mean it.”

Taehyung is smiling again. Cheeks flushed and pink, he gestures with his chin for Jeongguk to come over. 

Jeongguk scrambles up from the swing and approaches Taehyung’s, standing right in front of his knees. Taking in a deep breath, he sits down sideways onto Taehyung’s lap, one arm looping around Taehyung’s neck while the other holds his hot chocolate.

“Is it okay?” Jeongguk asks.

Taehyung leans in a little, his nose brushing along Jeongguk’s cold cheek. His breath is warm against Jeongguk’s skin, and Jeongguk feels himself sinking into the feeling of it. “Yeah.”

Jeongguk tilts his head, capturing Taehyung’s lips with his own. The hot chocolate in his hand is nearly forgotten as his arm tightens around Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung’s fingers find his waist, pulling Jeongguk’s side flush against his chest.

The kiss starts soft and sweet and slow. Taehyung sighs against his mouth, lips parting and allowing Jeongguk to deepen the kiss. Taehyung tastes like winter air and the faint sweetness of hot chocolate, making Jeongguk’s head feel light. The swing shifts gently beneath their weight, creaking in rhythm with the push and pull of their mouths.

When they finally break apart, their foreheads rest together, breaths mingling in little clouds of condensation. Jeongguk’s chest is a fluttering mess, butterflies trapped within his ribs, brushing along the bones and the nerves. 

“Not to be too direct,” Jeongguk says. “But can I come back to yours?”

Taehyung laughs, a smile pressed right against Jeongguk’s cheek. “Yes.”

**

Jeongguk wakes up slowly, caught somewhere in that blurry place between dream and reality. There’s the steady weight of an arm wrapped around him, fingers idly dragging along his ribs, stroking along his bare chest. Taehyung is plastered to his back, all heat and warm breath and skin. He has a leg thrown over Jeongguk’s hip, as if he were trying to fuse the two of them together in his sleep.

Jeongguk makes a muffled noise into his pillow, and the sound of it seems to stir Taehyung. A rumble slips past his lips, gravelly with sleep. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Jeongguk echoes, pressing a smile into the pillow, blooming before he can stop it. Because it feels lovely, he thinks, waking up like this. With Taehyung wrapped around him, soft kisses brushing against his shoulder and neck, little marks of devotion pressed against his skin. “You’re smothering me, you know?”

“Mm,” Taehyung replies, unbothered. In fact, he seems to be tightening his hold around Jeongguk. “Then suffocate. I’m not ready to let go yet.”

A little giggle bubbles from Jeongguk’s lips, and he squirms, wriggling beneath Taehyung’s hold, managing to twist his body so that he’s facing Taehyung. 

Taehyung is already staring at him in this sleepy, half-lidded gaze. His hair is a soft mess, and in an instinctive gesture Jeongguk smoothes it out of his eyes. He leans in and presses his lips to Taehyung’s cheek. Then the corner of his mouth. Taehyung is smiling when he turns into it, and Jeongguk feels that smile against his lips, feels it everywhere. 

“Was step three sleeping together again?” Taehyung asks, amused, eyes sparkling despite the sleep still clinging to him.

Jeongguk groans, burying his face against Taehyung’s neck. “That wasn’t supposed to be a step,” he mumbles, heat creeping up his ears and cheeks. “It just…happened.”

Taehyung’s laugh rumbles through both of them, and he tugs Jeongguk closer by the waist until they’re chest-to-chest. He nuzzles against him, impossibly tender. “And step four?”

“Step four is—” Jeongguk hesitates. He can feel the familiar panic rise in his chest with the urge to write it all out, put it all in neat little boxes so that it can’t collapse. But he meets Taehyung’s gaze, and finds it steady. 

“Well, I don’t know, actually,” he pauses, swallowing. 

Taehyung leans in and kisses him then, a soft press of lips Jeongguk sinks into, lashes fluttering. 

“Step four,” Jeongguk whispers when they part, “is whatever comes next. As long as it’s with you.”