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They see each other again before their reunion.

 

It’s been ten years, and though they’ve kept in touch through Bangtan’s group chat, it had never been quite frequent enough. There are gaps in their chats, all seven of them so extremely busy with life post-group. They’re still them in most ways though. Still make time to get together when they can, though it’s tricky for all seven of them to do so at once.

 

It becomes an inside joke, of sorts. Perhaps Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jimin can meet up, or Jungkook and Hoseok; lots of times it’s Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok, and Jungkook and Seokjin, Jimin and Hoseok. It’s quite often Jimin and Taehyung—but never Taehyung and Yoongi.

 

Perhaps it’s just an unspoken rule to not voice the obvious aloud (because the topic is never brought up), but they all know. Taehyung keeps things light hearted in the chat, and Yoongi stays polite and supportive.

 

Namjoon: I can’t believe our Taehyungie’s going to be in an American drama!

 

Seokjin: Have you been practicing your english, Tae-ah? You sounded nervous on your broadcast

 

Jimin: My baby! :crying emoji: I’m so proud! :crying emoji:

 

Hoseok: Our little Taehyungie is all grown up! :crying emoji:

 

Jeongguk: Congrats, hyung. Try not to get a big head now that you’re an official New Yorker.

 

Jeongguk: don’t forget us :(

 

Jimin: Wow, JK is gracing our chat with his presence?? :shocked emoji: Maybe Taetae should leave Korea more often! :laughing emoji:

 

Jeongguk: fuck off

 

Taehyung: Awwww Jeonggukie :heart emoji: I’d never forget you!

 

Jimin: What about me? :(

 

Taehyung: Jiminie! Light of my life! Apple of my eye! My sun and stars! You are the most unforgettable person in this world! Never in a million years!

 

Jimin: :crying emoji: :heart emoji: :crying emoji:

 

Taehyung: :crying emoji: :heart emoji:

 

Namjoon: Did they cast your romantic interest already?

 

Seokjin: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

Hoseok: Is it Ansel? Tell me it’s Ansel.

 

Taehyung: :laughing emoji: omg hyung shut the fuck up

 

Seokjin: Ansel should be so lucky :hmph emoji:

 

Taehyung: Why am I friends with you all?

 

Seokjin: We’re supporting you. Shut up, ungrateful brat.

 

Namjoon: Wait, is it a man? It’s America, after all. And given the support army still gives after all these years…

 

Taehyung: Korea’s come a long way too, hyung. But you’re right, America is far more accepting…

 

Jimin: aaaaaaaandd????

 

Taehyung: Yes, it’s a man.

 

Taehyung: We met during our chemistry read.

 

Jimin: !!!!!!!!!!

 

Hoseok: Waaaaahhhhhhhh, Taehyungie!!!!!!

 

Jeongguk: Is he nice? He wasn’t rude to you, right?

 

Namjoon: I’m proud of you, Taetae.

 

Seokjin: What’s his name? What movies has he been in?

 

Taehyung: He’s very nice. He hasn’t been in anything big yet, just a few shows as an extra.

 

Jimin: Is he cute enough for our Taetae?

 

Taehyung: :blushing emoji: he’s cute. Not for me though.

 

It hadn’t been until later that evening that Taehyung received a message from Yoongi, separate from the group chat. It’d been years since Taehyung received a private message from him, and his heart might have stopped beating for a split second—old emotions he’d pushed way, way, way down emerging at the sight. Memories pushed down, where they were tucked to the far corners of his mind, kept safe from even himself, coming up to surface. To say he’d been shocked would’ve been an understatement.

 

It took Taehyung nearly ten minutes to properly respond in a very generic reply, and even after he’d sent it, his hands were shaking and his emotions were bleeding through the fissures of his heart.

 

Yoongi: Congratulations, Tae. You deserve this.

 

Taehyung: Thank you, Yoongi hyung! :)

 

Living in America was an adjustment. There were countless nights that Taehyung cried himself to sleep, missing the sounds of Seoul and comparing his home to the noises and smells of NYC. The hours he put into his work, however, kept him distracted. They kept him from sinking into an ocean of loneliness. He practiced his lines, practiced his English, and it was plenty to keep him distracted. Well, that and the parties he began to attend with his castmates.

 

He tried to keep up with his former members, jumping into the chat when his manager would update him on one of their accomplishments, but some days were harder than others, especially with the time difference. Still, their presence and support was a comfort that he greedily accepted without complaint.

 

Even though it’d been years since they’d released an album, went on stage, or had any band related content released, ARMY was still there. Taehyung would catch himself crying at times, wondering what any of them ever did to deserve such overwhelming love and support. While, yes, a large part of their following moved on to other groups and places of interest after their “hiatus”, a larger part still devoted themselves to supporting each and every one of them in their solo works.

 

ARMY kept the fandom going, kept the spirit of their history alive, and Taehyung would be forever grateful—he continuously worked the hardest he could to pay back their love and support in some way. Even when things had been bad toward the end—when he’d been so low, so tired, so strained, and heartbroken, so done , it’d been his determination for ARMY’s happiness to keep going.

 

What the fuck, Tae! I told you not to do that—I told you!”

 

“I said I was sorry, hyung! I was just happy! We’ve all kissed each other on the cheek at one point. No one’s going to think—”

 

“The only one not thinking here is you! People are already fucking posting about it on Twitter! It’s all over the comments! What if they find out!? What if—Goddamn it, Taehyung!”

 

“Hyung, I...I’m sorry.”

 

“Why are you crying? God, this-this-! You—I can’t...I can’t look at you right now. This was supposed to be a good evening, but you fucking... I—I need to go.”

 

“Hyung, I’m sorry,”

 

It’d been an argument that haunted Taehyung for many nights, haunted him until the heartache became bitterness. It wasn’t a secret that Taehyung had idolized the rapper long before they debuted, but it had taken the younger quite some time to learn that Yoongi had harbored similar feelings for him. It’d been after Yoongi’s first mixtape release that Taehyung knew he was wholly and helplessly in love with the other. And one day, Taehyung received a text. The text. The text that changed their relationship—the text that shifted the entire group’s dynamic on its axis.

 

It’d been nice for some time. They had a few years of unadulterated bliss; sure, there’d been arguments and challenges, and everything else that came with a relationship, but Taehyung believed in his heart of hearts that they could work through anything. He believed Yoongi to be the one for him—he was it. His person. And maybe Yoongi believed that for a time as well, but then the pressure became too much. Their popularity was at its all time high; they’d dominated charts, awards, networks… BTS had been a global phenomenon, some likening them to legends like The Beatles, and even Michael Jackson. It was… a lot. Wonderful. Terrible. Amazing. Terrifying.

 

It took Taehyung a while to come to terms with his sexuality, but he’d acknowledged it before their global success. Yoongi on the other hand… Well, Taehyung can’t really blame him for feeling the way he did, lashing out in anger and panic—but he also hadn’t tolerated it. He’d made so many compromises for his hyung, made so sacrifices to keep their relationship from being revealed to the public. The company made sure to edit their moments out, they hardly posted selfies, and they surely weren’t touchy feely with each other—not in the way they were with other members. All of those things had been at Yoongi’s behest. While it had admittedly hurt Taehyung a little, the point was that he understood.

 

At least, until one VLIVE, where the seven of them were sat in front of the camera, their first Grammy in front of them, the air still static-y and the adrenaline still pumping—Taehyung had wrapped his arm around Yoongi and planted a kiss on his cheek, his own hurting for how much he’d been smiling, his happiness just overflowing. The second he’d done it though, his actions caught up with his brain and he froze. Yoongi went rigid in his arms and the glances between members for the remainder of the VLIVE were discreet, but Taehyung saw. Taehyung was observant, had always been, no matter how many people liked to peg him as clueless or airheaded.

 

The argument afterward was different.

 

Yoongi was angry. Taehyung was tired. The members were sat in the living room, doing their best not to eavesdrop, though it was hard when the walls of the hotel rooms were so thin.

 

“What the fuck, Tae! I told you not to do that—I told you!” Yoongi was pacing their hotel bedroom, hands in his hair as Taehyung leaned against the door, hands twisting together while his stomach sank further and further in anxiety.

 

“I said I was sorry, hyung!” He’d replied, voice weak and wavering as emotion caught in the back of his throat. “I-I was just happy ! We’ve all kissed each other on the cheek at one point! No one’s going to think—“

 

“The only one not thinking here is you !” Yoongi snapped viciously, not looking even the least bit remorseful for the insult. He continued pacing, looking down at his phone and scrolling through the feed, seeing endless screenshots of their moment on it. Not all ARMY were ignorant of fanservice, but their moment was real, the love in Taehyung’s gaze as he kissed Yoongi was real, and there were an onslaught of fangirling posts about it. “People are already fucking posting about it on Twitter! It’s fucking everywhere! What if they find out!? What if—Goddamn it, Taehyung!”

 

It had felt as though his chest was caving in. There was embarrassment, not at his actions, no, he’d never apologize for how he loved—but embarrassment that they were fighting about a kiss. A kiss on the cheek. A kiss that plenty of friends gave one another, and Yoongi was acting like he’d committed murder. It hurt. Everything hurt. Yoongi’s words hurt ; but most of all, it was his sheer disregard to Taehyung’s feelings that he truly felt his heart break.

 

“Hyung, I...I’m sorry,” he whispered, conflicted with all the emotions swirling within him. His tears tried their best to cling to his lashes, but as he blinked, they fell, trailing down his cheeks and leaving tracks there through his makeup.

 

Yoongi looked up at him and scoffed, shaking his head. “Why are you crying ? God, this-this-! You—I can’t...I can’t look at you right now. This was supposed to be a good evening, but you fucking... I—I need to go.”

 

“Hyung, I’m sorry,” Taehyung pleaded, panicking as Yoongi grabbed the door handle behind him. It was that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that told him if Yoongi walked out that door, things would never be the same. That feeling that this argument was different than the others, that their relationship had reached a tipping point. “Please don’t—”

 

Move, Taehyung.” Yoongi grit out, his own eyes glossy, cheeks flushed.

 

Taehyung moved, not by the demand, not because he wanted to… but because when he looked at Yoongi, there was no love in his eyes as he stared at his tear-streaked face. Just anger.

 

He stepped aside, and like that, he let the love of his life walk out the door. There was no fight left in him. He’d fought for years, fought so hard, and one kiss would be the catalyst to their carefully hidden relationship.

 

Yoongi walked out that night, and he took a part of Taehyung with him.

 

When Jimin came in shortly after, Taehyung slid to the ground, faced buried in his knees, cradling them close like he was a scared teenager all over again.

 

“Taetae,”

 

He allowed himself to be embraced by his friend, allowed himself to cry. “I...I ruined the whole night,” he sobbed, thinking about their award. Thinking about their collective lifelong dream being shrouded in the memory of this . “I-I’m sorry, Jimin,”

 

“Stop apologizing.” Jimin demanded sternly, clinging him tightly and tilting his chin to catch his gaze. “You did nothing wrong, Tae. Nothing.”

 

If he did nothing, why then, did he still feel so defeated?

 

Taehyung and Yoongi avoided each other for the days to come, avoided up until they were back in Korea, and they’d forced themselves to talk. Talk like adults—adults with responsibilities and commitments.

 

“I just don’t think there’s any way this works out with us together,” Yoongi told him as they sat across from one another at their kitchen table, sharing a bottle of Soju. There was regret in his voice, at least. He looked exhausted, eyes rimmed red and skin pallor. A small part of Taehyung took joy in it, a small, mean part of him. The rest of him, however, ached , wanting to reach out and comfort him, to take care of him. The rest of him worried , still a hopeless man in love.

 

Despite every part of him wanting to reach out and hold his hyung’s hand, Taehyung merely looked into his half empty glass, and nodded. “...yeah.”

 

They sat there for an hour more, going over how to act, what to say, what not to say, what not to do.

 

“Just, let’s not make much contact with each other, okay? In front of the cameras, at least. Not for a while, anyway,” Yoongi sighed, finishing his drink.

 

Taehyung’s bitter snort escaped him before he could think, but he avoided Yoongi’s gaze when it caused the other to look in his direction. It was heavy on him, and he smiled wryly into his drink. “So, act like we normally do in front of the cameras then? Sure. Easy.”

 

“Tae...” Yoongi’s voice hitched, the only sign that evening that Taehyung’s word had any affect on him.

 

He quickly downed his alcohol and pushed himself from the table, standing on weak legs, his whole body feeling weak. He looked up, regretting the action instantly when all he saw was hurt in his hyung’s eyes. Forcing a smile to his face, however strained and tight lipped it may have been, Taehyung continued in a softer tone, “Don’t worry, hyung, I won’t do anything like that again, okay? Fans won’t know the difference.”

 

“Tae,”

 

“Goodnight, Yoongi hyung.”

 

He waited in his room after he’d left, some part of him hoping, wishing , for Yoongi to knock on his door. Wishing that Yoongi would fight for him. For them . But he didn’t. Taehyung fell asleep alone, and woke up alone, and it’d continued that way for the next three years until they went on a group hiatus.

 

Now he’s here, thirty six, and days away from doing a concert with his former members at Citifield for the first time in so long. He’s skittering around his apartment in a flustered state, fluffing pillows, and dusting his table for the nth time in preparation for his guest.

 

Why had he suggested Yoongi stay with him? Why did he think he’d be okay after hearing Yoongi’d be arriving a couple days earlier than the others? Yes, it’s been nearly thirteen years since they’ve been together, and Taehyung had thought pffft, it’s fine, it’ll be fine . His phone had blown up with private messages from the other members asking what he was doing after he’d extended the offer in the group chat.

 

Jeongguk: Are you sure that’s a good idea, hyung?

 

Taehyung: I’ll be fine, Guk. You’re cute to worry :heart emoji:

 

Jeongguk: Ew. Shut up

 

He cleans his cat’s litter box and plays with them to pass the time more quickly. He’s got a Persian and a Birman—RJ and Chimmy, both rescued at the time he’d moved here, desperately missing his Tannie.

 

When Yoongi finally does arrive, Taehyung stands at his foyer for a second, trying to catch his breath at the sight of him. Even after all these years, he’s still as handsome as ever. Still youthful looking, and stylish. His face mask is cradling his chin, and his leather jacket does wonders for igniting old memories of him grabbing the sleeves of said jackets, dragging him into dressing rooms and bathrooms for a quick fuck or blowjob.

 

Now is probably not the best time to think of times like that though, so Taehyung merely steps back and gestures to the coat rack, “You can hang your jacket up, if you’d like. Or you can keep it in your room. I mean, my extra room. There might be some of Hobi hyung’s stuff still hanging in the closet from last time he visited though, so you might have to push them back. Or you can use the dressers! I bought a new armoire just the other day at an auction! Well, it’s not new new—just, new for me. It’s actually an antique! It’s supposedly from the 1800’s, in Austria!”

 

Taehyung’s rambling, he knows he is. He can feel the words tumble from his lips without permission, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind as he follows him down the hall to the guest bedroom, stepping inside, still quiet as Taehyung continues, walking up to the antique and opening the doors. “I thought it’d fit well in here, you know? With the folk art and floral motifs?”

 

He’d bought it specifically for its beauty. Old wood a dark teal, with intricate details painted in. Yes, they fit the aesthetic of his luxury apartment nicely. Every room had a piece of history to it, a piece of art and culture, and truly, his collection over the years makes him swell with pride in showing it off to someone he cares a great deal for.

 

Yoongi smiles tenderly at him, his soft features looking as lovely as they did fifteen years ago. He’s got some wrinkles around his eyes, and there’s faint lines near his mouth, but really, Taehyung is pleased to see them. That means his hyung’s laughed, and smiled a lot over the years, and that alone brings a warmth to his chest. He looks… beautiful.

 

“It’s nice, Tae.” Yoongi says, staring at the piece before looking around the room, letting his eyes trail over the Kahlo and Vermeer paintings there. “Very you.”

 

“Thank you, Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung beams at the compliment, feeling his heart begin to race as he scolds himself internally to it, clapping his hands together. “I’ll let you get settled in. I didn’t know if you’d brought any toiletries with you? I know you just flew in from Germany for that collab you mentioned, so I just stocked up in case you were running low or were out. There’s a basket set up in your bathroom, just there,” he points to the slightly ajar door to their left, “There’s fresh towels, too! But let me know if you need anything else, okay? Would you like coffee? Or...or water? Whiskey?”

 

Yoongi chuckles and looks up at him with eyes holding far too much of something for Taehyung to linger on. He smiles and gingerly sits himself on the bed, shaking his head. “No coffee, thanks. Do you have tea?”

 

Taehyung smiles at that, shoulders relaxing as he nods. “Of course! I’ll go brew some. Chamomile okay?”

 

“It’s perfect.” Yoongi answers softly, gratitude heavy in his voice. “Thank you, Tae.”

 

“Rest a bit,” Taehyung tells him, walking backwards to the door, feeling lighter and lighter the longer he’s in the other’s presence. It’s a bit...scary. Just how easy it feels. Like there’s not years and years of radio silence between them. Like there’s not years of bitterness. Bitterness that had faded away into melancholy acceptance.

 

And it is easy, the two of them together after so long. Taehyung makes dinner, laughing lightly when Yoongi works up the courage to test the waters, joking about it.

 

“Took you moving to a new country to learn, huh? Sad, Tae-ah,”

 

“Oh, shut up, hyung,”

 

They spend the evening watching anime, talking in the living room as the city lights shine into the cozy space. It’s nearly midnight when Yoongi decides to push just a little more, to gauge Taehyung’s reaction when he treads into a little bit deeper territories. They’re on the sofa, not too far apart from one another, but not cuddled either.

 

RJ, his persian, is curled on his lap, Yoongi’s hand stroking lazily over his fur while Chimmy lounges behind Taehyung’s head on the sofa. “So,” he begins, grinning lightly at the animal. “RJ and Chimmy, huh?”

 

Taehyung lets out a noise that’s half laughter, half groaning. “Listen, you can blame Jimin and hyung for that. I lost a bet and they’re a bunch of filthy cheaters.”

 

Yoongi snickers at that, and Taehyung can’t help but stare in wonder. His stomach flips at the gummy smile, the moon crescent eyes… he swallows thickly and forces out a laugh, feeling swept in emotions he’s been trying ( failing ) to keep dormant.

 

“I bet Jin loved that.”

 

“Oh, he did.” Taehyung laughs a little easier, thinking of the elder hyung and his favoritism toward the one cat. “He demands pictures and video updates every week. It’s a bit obnoxious, to be honest.”

 

“When isn’t Jin hyung obnoxious?” Yoongi snorts before they giggle together. “Is Yeontan…?”

 

Taehyung thinks of his little pom, and his heart clenches. “He’s back home, in Daegu. With Eonjin, actually. She has a nice little apartment, near our parents place. I try and visit when I can, but… well, you know how it is.”

 

“Yeah…” Yoongi nods, keeping his gaze on RJ. In the silence that stretches between them, Taehyung wonders if the other can hear his heartbeat beating furiously in his chest.

 

“I’m sorry about Holly,” he says quietly, knowing how much Yoongi loved and cherished his dog. It’d been a couple years, but he’s still sorry nonetheless. Holly was a loveable animal, and he knows just how heartbreaking the loss of a pet can be.

 

“He was a good dog.” Yoongi whispers in response, turning his gaze to the view outside. The lights of the city illuminate his features like a soft halo, and Taehyung feels mesmerized. “I regret not being there when he passed, but… hyung said he went really peacefully.”

 

It’s natural instinct when Taehyung reaches out to hold Yoongi’s hand, a habit he apparently hasn’t broke, and he doesn’t even have time to panic at the elder’s surprise, his face whipping to look at him before he’s squeezing tightly, holding like a lifeline. “I—“

 

“Do you miss it?” Yoongi questions, cutting what would’ve been another long ramble from Taehyung. His eyes seem a bit glossy, and his hands so soft. Taehyung thinks this is dangerous...thinks he could get lost in every feature and touch of Min Yoongi. “Miss home?”

 

“Korea?” he licks his lips, straining to hear his soft spoken hyung over his rapid heartbeat.

 

“Daegu.”

 

“I...I do, yeah.” Taehyung answers honestly, nodding. He dares to caress the flesh of Yoongi’s hand with his thumb, stomach flipping when it elicits an affectionate squeeze. “I, I’m actually thinking of going back next year. My manager and I talked about it and, I think I’m ready for a break. Probably go to my grandparent’s farm and fix up the property. Maybe make a B&B? Or something? I don’t know. Grandma would’ve like that. She was always really proud of showing off her home, you remember,”

 

“I remember.” Yoongi lifts his head from the back of the sofa and stares at him, eyes piercing and full of that something Taehyung is scared to decipher. “She’d love that.”

 

“Yeah,” Taehyung smiles, “she would.” Shifting in his seat, he clears his throat and gestures vaguely, “What about you? Any plans yourself, Mr. Hotshot Producer?”

 

At that, Yoongi chuckles. It’s as deep and throaty as he remembers so long ago, but years seem nonexistent as it still has the same effect on Taehyung. He rubs the back of his neck, willing the heat in his cheeks to go down as Yoongi begins to stroke his hand as well. “I’m actually moving back to Daegu.”

 

“What?!” Taehyung’s eyes bulge, and he turns in his seat, worry replacing his flusteredness. “Are you okay?”

 

Yoongi laughs a little more, shoulders shaking slightly and eyes twinkling at the younger’s reaction. “I’m fine, Taehyungie. Trust me, I’m fine, I’m just—I’m ready for a break as well. I’m tired, and I might need a new home with all the awards I have now. Maybe I’ll get a nice loft in Daegu. Have it specifically renovated to house all my trophies.”

 

Worry evaporated, Taehyung snorts and shoves his shoulder, “Ever our humble, Min Yoongi.”

 

Yoongi smirks and shrugs. “After this concert, I think I’m going to go back and rest. Maybe help with Jae hyung’s restaurant? Or work on an album? Who knows. But...I think I’ll take my time with it. No deadlines, no awaiting approvals. Just, go at my own pace, you know?”

 

“Hyung,” Taehyung sags against the cushions, proud and excited and just completely enamored. “that sounds amazing. If anyone deserves a break, it’s you. It’s definitely you.”

 

“Do you…” Yoongi looks back down at RJ, the tips of his ears red. Taehyung tries not to be affected, but he fucking is , and he can’t help but scoot a little closer. “I know your filming isn’t over until the end of January, but whenever you’re back in Daegu or Geochang, would you... want to be a part of a track? We could, I don’t know, talk about it over coffee or something?”

 

Taehyung tries to remember a time when he wasn’t in love with Min Yoongi. He tries to remember, but finds he doesn’t want to. Even through the heartache, and the breakup, and the messy events, Taehyung doesn’t want to remember not being in love with the other. Taehyung loves without restraint, he loves unapologetically. He treasures every feeling he has, and right now, he’s feeling an awful lot.

 

“You can say no.” Yoongi rushes to assure as Taehyung’s silence stretches for too long. He’s biting his lip and his cheeks are a lovely shade of pink, and Taehyung can’t look away. “I would understand if you did, but… God, I just, I know it’s been years but, a part of me wanted to— needed to come here to...to apologize. For how I treated you back then.”

 

“Hyung,”

 

“I’m so sorry, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s the one rambling now, seemingly trying to say his piece while he can, “Hyung was selfish back then, and the pressure was just, it was just so fucking much. I lashed out at you because I knew you’d still love me, and you were the easiest target, and I can’t...I can’t say how sorry I am for that. I ruined a good thing, I messed up our friendship, and for that, I deeply apologize. You mean more to me than anything in this world, and knowing I hurt you, knowing my own personal demons affected you, I—it’s eaten at me everyday I haven’t apologized.”

 

Taehyung sits there, winded, like he’s ran a mile, or...or like he’s just flown over the city of New York. He knows it’s taken the elder a lot of courage to say all this, and he squeezes their still linked hands in reassurance.

 

Hyung ,” he repeats, scooting closer and reaching with his free hand to cup his face, tilting it so Yoongi has no other option but to look at him. “I forgave you a long time ago.”

 

Yoongi’s face crumples, the tears fall. Taehyung coos quietly, gently wiping them with soft strokes of his thumb. “I’m so sorry,” he croaks shakily before Taehyung shushes him.

 

“I forgive you, Yoongi,” he repeats honestly. “We were young. We had so much going on. Please believe me when I say I understand .”

 

Taehyung doesn’t know how much their relationship weighed on the elder’s mind, but judging how he curls himself into his embrace for the next hour, crying into his shirt, he wagers it’d been a lot. When the tears stop and Yoongi curls further into his chest, no doubt embarrassed at his actions, Taehyung merely chuckles and kisses the top of his head.

 

“You deserve the stars, Taehyung.” He mumbles into the now soaked fabric of his shirt.

 

“I have six stars already,” Taehyung replies, smiling gently when the other gives a muffled, watery snort. “that’s all I need.”

 

“Cheesy.”

 

“You like me cheesy.”

 

“I suppose I do...”

 

“Hyung?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Let’s get coffee,” he whispers, the television still stuck on the are you still there? screen, just the cats surrounding them with purrs, “when I’m in Daegu. Just you and me, okay?”

 

Yoongi clutches the front of his shirt, trying his best to hide his sniffle when he answers, almost breathlessly, “I’d like that.”

 

Taehyung’s heart skips a beat. “Me, too.”

 

“Hey, Taehyung?” Yoongi lifts his head finally, looking so devastatingly cute with his messy black hair and pink nose, Taehyung has to refrain from leaning that short distance to brush their lips together.  

 

“Yeah?” he lets his fingers brush away the hair falling over the elder’s brows, delighting in the blush it elicits.

 

“Let’s take a picture.”

 

“Right now?” Taehyung’s brows shoot up, knowing how particular Yoongi used to be with his selfies, trying again and again to find the perfect angle, needing to have a good day where he felt confident enough to even take one.

 

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, pulling his phone out and lifting it questioningly. “Is that okay? We could post, for ARMY.”

 

For ARMY, Taehyung nods, feeling butterflies in his stomach when Yoongi presses himself against his side. It happens so quickly, the feeling of those soft lips touching the curve of his cheek, and like that, Taehyung’s completely gone. He’s twenty three again, head over heels in love.

 

“There,” Yoongi smiles shyly posting the selfie onto their twitter, watching the comments begin to flood in as fans lose their minds. “That was...okay, right?”

 

Taehyung licks his lips, heart in his throat as he nods. “More than okay.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay,” he smiles so wide he thinks his cheeks will split. His phone is abuzz with notifications, and he can’t help but laugh at the tweet being sent back to them in the group chat from very demanding and emoji abusing members.

 

@BTS_twt

 

:kissy emoji: #슙뷔

11/02/2022, 23:43