Chapter Text
Taehyung is a mess. It’s been three weeks since he got back to Seoul, and apart from a few work reunions he had to attend to, he hasn’t left his house. He hasn’t even opened the blinds—his living room has turned into a cinema room of sorts. The dirtiest cinema room in the world and that’s saying something.
The only people he bothers keeping in touch with are his parents since he doesn’t want them to worry. They, obviously, saw the season finale fiasco and were able to notice how their son was brought up. But Taehyung lied to them and told them the same thing Jeongguk and Jiyeon said—that it was all a lie. The less they know, the better. And they seemed to believe him, so he’s not about to spill.
So yes, he has turned into a disaster. And on top of everything and how shit he already feels on his own, he sees Jeongguk and Hyejin all over the internet. They’re not shy about the damage control, always walking around and being seen together, and something about it makes Taehyung feel sick.
It’s not fair. Of course it’s not fair, but it’s already done, he guesses.
He’s turned into a hermit, so he wasn’t expecting anyone to come ring his doorbell in the middle of the afternoon and wake him up from a not-deserved nap. He drags himself from his couch, tripping over the thin blanket that was wrapped around his leg, and curses as he walks to his apartment door.
What he was expecting even less was to see Hoseok and Seokjin standing on the other side of the door, to be honest. He opened without bothering to look through the peephole, and feels his jaw drop to the floor when he sees them.
“Man, you look terrible,” is what Hoseok says as soon as he sees them.
Taehyung can’t even argue that. He’s wearing sweatpants and some old t-shirt, hasn’t showered or washed his hair since the last time he left his house, which is also the last time he saw sunlight. He probably also smells—he puts on deodorant and changes his clothes every day, but something tells him that’s not enough.
Despite Taehyung’s recent lack of social interaction, he still hasn’t forgotten manners. So he invites them to come in, and actually opens the blinds in the living room so they can see their surroundings. Not everyone is pretending to be a vampire like him, he guesses.
“What brings you here?” he can’t help but ask. “Don’t get me wrong—I don’t mean this in a can-you-leave way. I just—I wasn’t expecting you to visit. Or anyone to visit, really.”
Hoseok sighs, rubbing his palms against his legs. “Well, I… I wanted to apologize,” Hoseok starts. “You told me once to not go down that route, and on the day of the finale to make Seunghyun drop the matter, and I didn’t listen. I… I didn’t know it was about you and Jeongguk, and if I had known it was something as serious I wouldn’t have done that. Ever.”
Taehyung sighs. Of course Hoseok and Seokjin know—maybe they talked to Jimin, or maybe they just know Taehyung so well that they figured it out. Probably everyone on set did, watching Taehyung’s reaction. But what’s clear is that they didn’t buy the story about Jiyeon’s health issues.
“It’s fine,” Taehyung says. “I know you wouldn’t have.”
Hoseok, like Taehyung himself, gets too caught up in his job sometimes. They act recklessly and sometimes push too hard. But Taehyung knows that Hoseok is a loyal friend, as well as a good person. And he knows that he would have helped him and made sure that nothing like this happened if he knew the truth.
Suddenly, Taehyung feels very stupid for thinking hiding it from everyone was the only way to go.
“No, I really am sorry,” Hoseok insists. “Bogum… Bogum told me that Jiyeon had a bomb and that with not too much pressure she would have an outburst. But I didn’t think he’d mean something like what happened?”
Taehyung frowns. “Bogum did what?”
“Ah, well,” Hoseok says, cracking his knuckles. “He came to me and said that you had told him Jiyeon was hiding something, but that you couldn’t tell him what. And that it was scandalous and could benefit Seunghyun so I went with it.”
“Are you for real?” Taehyung asks, eyes widening. Hoseok nods. “Well, I never said any of that.”
Taehyung didn’t see this coming, really. None of what Taehyung said, according to what Bogum told Hoseok, is true. Bogum knew Jiyeon was hiding something, yeah, but he also knew what that something was; and he knew that Taehyung was worried about someone from the set finding out. Let alone, everyone watching at home.
“Really?” Seokjin asks, raising one eyebrow.
“Yeah. He knew about me and Jeongguk, and I ranted to him when Jiyeon saw us kiss,” Taehyung explains. “He got very angry at me, saying that I was being careless and putting everyone and the show at risk. After that, we kind of kept our distance but I didn’t think he’d do that.”
“Kind of a low blow,” Hoseok comments.
“I just wish I knew why he did that,” Taehyung says, sighing. “I know he was angry but I didn’t think he’d be so bitter. If I put the show at risk then god knows what his lie caused.” Hoseok rolls his eyes fondly, and Seokjin laughs. “What?”
“God, Taehyung, how can you be so dense when you’re the one involved?” Seokjin asks. Taehyung frowns. “Bogum has been pining over you for years. He was probably heartbroken and petty.”
“Excuse me?” Seokjin and Hoseok start laughing again, and Taehyung clicks his tongue. “Bogum and I are—were just friends.”
“Yeah, well, he was the kind of friend who wanted to eat your ass and take you out on dates,” Hoseok says.
Taehyung looks down at his hands, thinking. It couldn’t possibly be that obvious if he missed it, he thinks. He might be a little less observant when it comes to him and his own life, but he’s still not oblivious. Or maybe he was just so used to seeing Bogum as one of his best friends that he missed all the obvious signs.
“So…” Seokjin starts later, clearly wanting to take the conversation somewhere else. “What about Jeongguk? Are you still together?”
Taehyung swallows down thickly. It’s hard to think or talk about it still, even if it’s already been weeks, and during those weeks all he has done is obsess over Jeongguk; his eyes, his hands, his absence. How could he take so little time to fall in love, but so long to forget?
“No,” he finally says, the word reluctantly leaving his mouth. “We argued the night of the finale and then he left, and we haven’t spoken ever since. We were never together, anyway. Not officially, at least.”
“Oh, Tae,” Hoseok says, almost on a sigh. “Have you tried talking to him?”
“No and I’m too humiliated to reach out first. And he seems to be doing okay, so…” he says. He knows that what appears to the public—and Taehyung hates that he has become the public, a stranger to Jeongguk yet again—might not be what reality is, but still. “That’s what makes me feel worse. I went through all that, and in the end, I lost him, and I’m going to lose my job.”
“You’re not going to lose your job” Seokjin says.
“How could I not? What I did is as unprofessional as it gets,” Taehyung says.
“Well, I am the creator and I won’t allow that,” Seokjin replies, tone firm. “Plus, as unprofessional as it was, it ended up being helpful. Ratings were crazy that day. I think the reveal was one of the most watched moments in South Korea that night after the argument started, and we made it to Worldwide Trends on Twitter. The network renewed us for at least two more seasons, and you’re staying with us, Taehyung.”
“This is so irresponsible,” Taehyung says, tone accusing. Seokjin narrows his eyes at him, and Taehyung sighs. “Thank you, hyung, I—this means a lot to me. Thank you.”
Seokjin smiles at him warmly, and Hoseok pats his back as he says something about not being able to get rid of them so soon. Taehyung is relieved. Maybe it’s time to start putting his life back together little by little.
One of the top priorities on Taehyung’s list to become a functional human being again is to face Yoongi. Not only because they need to meet for professional reasons, which he has been postponing, but also because they’re friends before they’re a producer and executive producer. Yoongi wasn’t mean to him when everything came crashing down, he didn’t yell at him or make him feel guilty, but Taehyung was still scared of him, so he avoided him regardless. And he realizes now that doing so was very unfair to him.
So he’s going to change that. He’s already messaged Yoongi and scheduled a meeting. And there’s no backtracking now.
He’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be, if he’s honest, and he can’t exactly determine why. Maybe, after his long streak of teenager-like mistakes in the past two months, he is going back to adulating now. It’s a relief if he’s honest.
While he’s in the elevator on his way to Yoongi’s office, he gives himself a couple of minutes to think. Think about why he’s coming here to talk to him. To apologize to his boss for the nuisance? Or to apologize to his friend for putting at risk the show he has worked so hard for? Is he even going to apologize, or will he get defensive the moment he steps into Yoongi’s office?
The elevator ride is not long enough for him to find the answer to any of his questions, unfortunately, and soon enough the doors are opening with a far too cheerful ding! Taehyung knows his way across these corridors like he knows the back of his hand so he just distractedly walks until he’s faced with Yoongi’s door. Min Yoongi, Executive Producer, reads the black sign attached to the wooden door.
Taehyung takes one shaky breath before knocking.
“Come in!”
He doesn’t let himself hesitate before opening the door. He knows Yoongi has some work to do these days but he’s waited long enough. This can’t wait anymore. And judging by the way Yoongi smiles softly as he sees him peek from behind the door, he doesn’t seem to mind that Taehyung is disrupting his working hours.
“Ah, Taehyung-ah,” he starts. “Long time no see. Please, sit down. How have you been?”
Taehyung has always hated small talk with friends, but he guesses Yoongi asking him how he is not… really small talk, per se. He hasn’t seen or heard from Taehyung for weeks, and the last time they saw each other, Taehyung was an emotional mess.
And since it probably isn’t small talk, Taehyung decides to be honest about it. “Not very good,” he admits. “But I’m doing better these days.”
Yoongi nods, drumming his fingers on the table. “Have you… Have you spoken to Jeongguk?”
Taehyung doesn’t know how he guessed—maybe he’s talked to someone; maybe the fact that he said he isn’t doing well is telling enough. He hates being transparent, but he doesn’t mind being transparent with Yoongi. It’s nearly impossible not to be when it comes to him.
“Not really, but I don’t want to talk about that right now, hyung,” he says.
He has a lot to put in order, and Jeongguk is the last of his priorities. Mostly because he still feels humiliated—a part of himself tries to convince him that Jeongguk only said what he said out of anger, panic, desperation. But the other part still can’t let go of the fact that he said those things; that maybe, deep down, he meant them. So yeah, he’s been trying not to think about Jeongguk, even if it’d probably be the most helpful thing to do right now.
“Okay, okay, I understand,” Yoongi says. “I just… I hope you know I’m not mad at you, Taehyung.”
“You’re not?” Taehyung asks. Yoongi shakes his head. “But why? I fucked up. I fucked up big time. Seokjin isn’t mad at me either. I just—I don’t get it. I almost ruined everything; I risked the job of dozens, I risked years of hard work, and I seem to be the only one who realizes that. Is it because you pity me?”
“You know I’m not one for pity,” Yoongi says. Taehyung sighs—he’s right. Yoongi doesn’t pity people, not even close friends. “But I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Sure, it was reckless, and sure, it could have gone terribly, but it didn’t. And in the end, Jiyeon’s outburst benefitted us, Miss Right and BTS are both doing well, and Jeongguk’s sexuality isn’t a topic of discussion. What are you beating yourself up over?”
“But what if it hadn’t gone that way?”
“We don’t have the time to think about the what ifs, Taehyung,” Yoongi replies. “There are a million different possible outcomes depending on every little decision, even the smallest ones. But what’s done is done. Hyejin and Jeongguk have around two weeks of their contract left, and after that their stunt is over, and in a few months no one will talk about this again. Why are you torturing yourself thinking of what could have gone wrong if things are alright now?”
Taehyung sighs, not replying. Yoongi has a point, of course he does, but Taehyung isn’t convinced. He feels like he needs someone to yell at him, to tell him how irresponsible he was, and how wrong he was for what he did that summer. He feels so, so terribly guilty, and it’s so frustrating that nobody else shares the feeling, for some odd reason.
“I don’t know, hyung,” he says. Another sigh. “I just—I acted irresponsibly.”
“You’re in love,” Yoongi says. Taehyung feels his eyes widen. Even if he has gotten around and discussed his relationship with a few people—Seokjin, Jimin, Hoseok—that could have spoken to Yoongi, he doesn’t recall ever saying he was in love. It’s something he has kept to himself, maybe too afraid of someone finding out. Loving Jeongguk makes him feel vulnerable, and right now, vulnerable is the last thing he wants to feel. “Some people think that acting like a fool when you’re in love is a cliché, but it’s actually more accurate than many would think. I’m not going to hold it against you, Taehyung. We’re friends. And like the good friend I am, I’m going to have your back through this instead of blaming you for something that never happened.”
Yoongi’s words echo in his mind. Maybe he’s right, after all. Maybe Taehyung had already assumed something that never happened, the fall of Miss Right. And he thinks he knows why he’s been holding onto that and to the feeling of guilt. Because guilt is easier to face than heartbreak. Because for him, it’s easier to entertain himself with feeling responsible than it is to focus on the real issue here. And even when he thinks of Jeongguk—it’s easier to blame himself for putting Jeongguk’s career and BTS at risk than to accept that he misses him, and that not having him hurts.
Jeongguk’s words and his lack of empathy on that night hurt, yeah, but what hurts more is to have lost him.
“I guess you’re right,” Taehyung says.
“Of course I am,” Yoongi says, looking smug as he sits back in his office chair. “You seemed happy, Taehyung. When worry and stress weren’t consuming you, you looked happy. And back during the summer I wondered what could make you glow like that, with a smile plastered on your face, but now I know. And if I were you, I wouldn’t let that go. You don’t fall in love like that many times in your life, you know.”
Taehyung bites down on his bottom lip. It’s much, much more complex than that. He’s not going to reach out to Jeongguk—he can’t. And it’s not even a matter of pride. He just doesn’t feel like Jeongguk would want him to.
“I’ll think about it,” he lies. “I’ll think about it.”
Taehyung doesn’t consider himself an optimist. In his line of work, it’s always better to lean towards realism or even pessimism, always expecting the worst possible outcome. Plus, he thinks it’s more rewarding to think negatively. If you expect the best, odds are you will be left disappointed many times. But if instead, you’re expecting the worst, life will surprise you in many ways.
And so, life positively surprises Taehyung on a morning in early October, around a month and a half after the season finale. Six whole weeks since he last spoke to Jeongguk, more or less.
He’s in shock, staring at the screen on his buzzer. It’s been six weeks, but he still can recognize Jeongguk. And even with the shitty quality of the camera, he knows that’s him standing in front of the door of his building.
He’s paralyzed. This is the last thing he was expecting, something he hadn’t even allowed himself to fantasize about. Late into the night, when he let himself indulge and let his mind wander when he was feeling a little braver, he always pictured himself reaching out to Jeongguk before they got together. He didn’t think Jeongguk would come to him, not in a million years, yet here he is.
“Tae, please, open the door,” Jeongguk says. That seems to snap Taehyung out of his daze—it’s not like he didn’t want to open the door, really. He was just too shocked to do anything. “I know you’re there.”
Taehyung buzzes Jeongguk in, feeling his cheeks go red, and Jeongguk mumbles a thank you before opening the door and getting inside the building. Taehyung is nervous. At least now both he and his house look… decent, again. He wouldn’t say he’s in his best state, dark circles still under his eyes, but his house is neat. That’s something.
It takes Jeongguk less than Taehyung was expecting to get to his apartment, and the moment he hears the doorbell he swears he gets a fright. He feels like his heart is going to beat its way out of his chest, maybe even escape when he opens his mouth to greet him. But still, he crosses the little distance to get to his front door and opens it.
Jeongguk looks… Jeongguk looks the same, overall. His skin is a little fairer than it was at the end of the summer, and his eyes don’t shine quite as much. He, too, has hints of purple under his eyes, but he’s still the same; same haircut, same dark chocolate eyes, same freckles under his lip, and on his neck.
He’s still Jeongguk, and he still makes Taehyung’s heart thump wildly in his chest.
“Hey,” Jeongguk says. He hasn’t been any less discreet than Taehyung has in his staring, eyes raking up and down his frame.
“Hi,” Taehyung says. It’s funny how both of them are trying to sound nonchalant when it’s so obvious neither of them is feeling it. Taehyung feels so ridiculously nervous, and he knows Jeongguk is, too. And for some odd reason, it’s a relief. “Come in?”
Taehyung takes a step back and Jeongguk gets inside the apartment. Taehyung sees him look around a little, curiosity swimming in his eyes. It makes Taehyung hyperaware of what is going on—Jeongguk is at his home. It’s a position they’ve never been in before, and it soothes Taehyung a little. This is his home, his safe place. And despite the circumstances, Jeongguk’s presence doesn’t make him uneasy which is a good sign, he guesses.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asks. “Tea, coffee, soda—?”
“I want to talk,” Jeongguk interrupts, softly. Taehyung looks at him right in the eye and sees the plea in his gaze.
“Okay,” he says. He starts walking to his living room, Jeongguk following behind. “Let’s sit, and… we can talk.”
Jeongguk sits on the couch, and Taehyung takes the armchair next to it. They’re facing each other, the coffee table in between them, and Taehyung feels both too close and too far away for comfort. He figures that since it was Jeongguk who showed up here in the first place, it should be him who breaks the silence, so he waits quietly for him to say something. He knows that his contract with Hyejin is over now, saw the notice of their breakup in the news earlier in this week. Maybe that’s why he’s here.
“I—Yoongi gave me your address,” he starts explaining. “I talked to him the other day and he said that I should talk to you.”
“You came here just because Yoongi told you to?” Taehyung asks, doing his best to keep his betrayal away from his voice. At least he has done more than you have, he reminds himself.
“No, no, no,” Jeongguk is quick to deny. “I’m here because I want to be, because I have so much more to tell you, and a lot to apologize for,” he adds. He looks down at his fidgeting hands, eyes never meeting Taehyung’s. “If you want to hear me out, that’s it.”
“I do want to,” Taehyung replies. “And, well… I have things to apologize for, too. But Jeongguk,” he says. Jeongguk looks up again, and Taehyung adds, “Look at me, please.”
Jeongguk nods, swallowing thickly. Taehyung doesn’t know how this will go, but what he knows is that he wants to look at Jeongguk’s eyes the whole time. Not because he wants to test whether he’s being sincere or not—Jeongguk has been sincere with him all along, he doubts that he’ll start lying now.
“Let me go first,” Jeongguk says, Taehyung nodding silently. For a moment, Jeongguk looks like he’s at a loss of words, but soon enough he starts talking. “I haven’t been fair with you. Not only with everything I said the day I left—which I deeply regret, but I’ll get to that later—but during all the time we spent at the mansion, especially after everything that happened with Jiyeon. You weren’t the only one responsible, and if anything, it was me who had to be careful. I was inconsiderate and let you feel like you owed me something, like you had to fix everything for us, when it wasn’t just on you. And I’m sorry about that.”
Taehyung nods. He knows what Jeongguk means, even if his words are a little clumsy, but he never had a problem with that. Taehyung willingly took all responsibility—he’s older, and more used to all the drama, all the manipulation.
“I didn’t mind fixing it for us,” Taehyung says. “But I just—I felt alone. And at times I wondered if it really was worth it. If you really cared. Because sometimes it felt like to you it didn’t matter at all.”
Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip. He’s close to breaking eye contact, but his eyes stay on Taehyung’s as he starts talking again. “I should have made sure you knew I was there for you, and that everything you did meant a lot to me,” he says. “It mattered to me—it matters to me. And the fact that you cared about it… I don’t know if I will ever be able to thank you enough for everything you’ve done. And I’m sorry for every time I’ve made you question if it was worth it. I was ungrateful, and I hate that I made you feel that way. I’m sorry, Taehyung.”
Taehyung smiles a little at him. “It’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay, Jeongguk.”
“I hope so,” Jeongguk says. “Now… I want to apologize for what I said the night I left, too. I don’t think your job is any less important than mine, or that it’s worth any less. I was being selfish and a bit of a brat, but I was panicked and not handling the situation very well. I regretted it as soon as I said it, and ever since then there hasn’t been a day where I wished I hadn’t opened my damn mouth.”
“You were kind of an asshole,” Taehyung says, the corners of his mouth lifting up into a small smile. He’s still not fully at ease but he’s more relaxed now. He feels like a lot of the initial tension has dissipated.
“No, I was a total asshole,” Jeongguk says. “You didn’t deserve to hear any of that, especially after everything you had done for me. You should have punched me.”
“I’m not one for physical violence,” Taehyung replies. “And, either way, I was hoping that’d be the reason why,” he confesses. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to believe you thought that.”
“I didn’t and I don’t,” Jeongguk says, quickly. “I’m sorry, Tae.”
“Anything else left on the list?” Taehyung asks, jokingly.
“Actually, yes,” Jeongguk says, then. He takes a shaky breath before he starts speaking, which makes Taehyung wonder what he’d like to talk about now. “I was a coward for leaving you like that. I was scared, and instead of thinking rationally, I just ran away from everything and hid. I left you alone when you needed me most, and I think that’s what I regret the most,” he says.
His words make Taehyung go quiet, the will to joke around gone. That’s what I regret the most, he said. Funnily enough, that’s what hurt the most. Everything else, he knew could be repaired, he knew they could work on together; he knew Jeongguk could apologize for it, just like he did now, and if he was sincere, Taehyung would have forgiven him in a heartbeat. But Jeongguk leaving—the moment Jeongguk left, everything crushed. They crushed, the us they had built and that Taehyung blindly believed in was suddenly gone.
And, well. What Jeongguk just said makes him believe that Jeongguk feels the same way. And that gives him hope.
“Really?” Taehyung asks.
“Really,” he confirms. “I… I miss you, Taehyung. I wanted to be with you, still do, and leaving was possibly the worst decision I could have made. And I regret it, deeply. I regret leaving, I regret not saying anything the day after, I regret not getting in contact every day that passed ever since then. I regret giving up on us, when you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Taehyung feels his heart speed up at the confession. “I’ve been thinking of getting in touch but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it,” he admits. Then, in almost a whisper, he adds, “I miss you, too.”
Jeongguk swallows down. There’s so much Taehyung wants to say, but he’s not sure where they stand, or what Jeongguk’s intentions are. He’s the one who ended things back when everything blew up in their faces. And he said he regrets doing it back then, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he wants it back. That he wants them back.
“Can we—fuck, I feel so selfish for asking this,” Jeongguk starts, stopping himself with a bitter chuckle.
“For asking what?” Taehyung inquires.
He’s feeling hopeful. He knows that’s probably naïve of him, but the moment he saw Jeongguk at front of his building, the flame of hope ignited in him. Maybe he’s just looking for closure, Taehyung thinks. But maybe… Maybe he misses what they used to be, too.
“I love you, Taehyung,” Jeongguk blurts out, and it’s so sudden and so unexpected that it almost makes Taehyung’s heart stop. “And I know that I have no right to come back here and ask you this. But I—I just was wondering if you’d have me again, after all that went down.”
Everything from that moment, from the way Jeongguk’s eyes flicker nervously between his lap and Taehyung’s eyes, to the way his voice is a little higher in pitch than it usually is. From the I love you to the fact that he’s asking Taehyung to get back with him. It makes him shiver, emotions overflowing.
Taehyung has always been one to feel strongly, both the love and the heartbreak. Six weeks make way for a lot of pain, yeah, and some would have thought that the pain would be enough to make him forget about what he and Jeongguk had, and what Taehyung was hoping for them to be.
But six weeks is not enough to forget. Not a love like this.
You don’t fall in love like this many times in your life, Yoongi had said.
Truth is, Taehyung doesn’t want to fall in love like this ever, ever again. Because to do that, he’d have to get over Jeongguk again. And that’s something he’s not planning on.
“Yes,” he says. Firmly, without a hint of doubt in his voice. “Yes, Jeongguk. I love you.”
He doesn’t know which one of them stands up first, and maybe they did at the same time. What he knows is that he crosses the space between them, and as soon as he’s next to Jeongguk there are two arms around his waist, bringing them closer. They’re like two pieces of a puzzle that fit just right, their bodies now so used to each other, and just like that their mouths slot together into a kiss.
There is no way he can put into words how much he missed this. Jeongguk’s kisses, the way his lips move against him, how his hands hold him close while they kiss. Taehyung brings his hands to Jeongguk’s neck, getting as close as he can. Almost afraid that he’ll vanish again if he lets go for a moment.
“I love you,” Taehyung says between kisses. “I love you, I love you. Don’t ever leave me again.”
“I won’t,” says Jeongguk. He pulls away a little and cups Taehyung’s cheek with his hand, looking at him with a sheepish smile painted on his face. “I want to be with you, Tae. And now that I don’t have all those girlfriends I had back then, I want to be with you for real.”
Taehyung’s cheeks heat up, the conversation Jeongguk is alluding to going to his mind. He remembers telling Jeongguk that he has a lot of girlfriends and that was more than he could handle, so they couldn’t be together officially. But now… Now Miss Right is over. Now there’s nothing forbidden. Now, they can be together.
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, mister?” he asks.
Jeongguk drags his tongue over his teeth, looking smug. Taehyung narrows his eyes at him.
“Depends,” he answers. “Are you going to say yes?”
“Mm,” Taehyung says, pretending to think about it. “I think I’ll say yes, ah. There could be some perks to having a hot, rich boyfriend, you know.”
Jeongguk laughs then, pulling Taehyung in for a kiss. His boyfriend. It seems crazy to think they’re here after all that happened, after all that they went through, both together and apart. But luckily all that is over now, and they can finally be together—they can be boyfriends.
They kiss and kiss, and when Taehyung thinks that Jeongguk is done kissing him he pulls him close again, locking their lips together. They’ve lost six weeks of time, six weeks of love, and hugs, and kisses. And Taehyung is planning to make up for every minute that they’ve spent apart, even if he ends up with red, swollen lips.
“I’m happy,” he says when Jeongguk and he fall back on to the couch, Jeongguk sprawled out on top of him. Jeongguk is smiling down at him, adoring expression on his face, and that makes Taehyung grin even wider as he says, “So, so happy.”
And truth is—he really is happy. Somehow, despite everything that happened and all the obstacles they went through, they’re here together. This is what Taehyung was looking forward to all along, to have Jeongguk finally be his; to be away from all the mess, the set, from all the cameras, and to just be them. And now, he has that.
Taehyung is happy, but above everything, he feels lucky. Because finally, he feels like he has all he needs.
