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Save me Golden Boy (I'll save you too)

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As soon as the second tremor rips through the city, Taehyung is already racing down the stairs of the office with his tape recorder in his pocket, his notebook stuffed in his bag and video camera hanging around his neck. Traditionally he should have had a cameraman but they were just so easy to leave behind when a homicidal maniac is trying to mow you down with his new favourite toy. Taehyung skids out of the building, running towards the people screaming and crying.

The giant contraption wrecking the city is a massive cluster-fuck of bulldozers and heavy swinging arms. Taehyung squints as he runs closer, looking for some kind of ray or a device that does more than just destroy. There is none. He starts a video with his camera, holding it steady while dodging running people and debris. He would have thought it was the work of a lesser, angrier villain, if not for the signature cat ears on the machine. How strange.

It’s clawing angrily at one building in particular: a recording label that had created some of the biggest names after they traded their originality for mass-produced pop love songs. Taehyung can’t say he’s all that devastated. He makes a mental note of it, brows furrowed in confusion. The top of the building sounds a loud crack as it begins to crumble and crush everything under it. Taehyung starts walking backward into the middle of the street to film a better angle. Destruction is really quite beautiful when you see it up close.

Suddenly there’s a burst of air from above and Taehyung allows the camera to follow without looking up to check what it is. He knows what it is. Golden boy in all his glory is soaring through the sky. He has Hope in his arms as he circles the machine to confuse it before dropping the other hero the metal head and disappearing in a flash. Hope lands in the classic hero pose that Taehyung would have scoffed at in movies but is awe-inspiring in real life. He quickly slides down the head, fearless even though he’s a hundred feet in the air, and grabs onto the neck of wires. His hands glow so brightly that even from the ground it looks like pure sunshine. The monster begins to melt and malfunction but Taehyung is distracted, looking for someone else.

Golden Boy is pressed up against the side of the record label, pushing the top back inch by inch. He might not be able to realign it but at least he can force it to fall on the robot instead of the apartments around it. Taehyung could imagine the straining muscles and deep grunts as a focused the camera closer.

He always hated perfect people, they made him uncomfortable, and he was fully prepared to hate Golden Boy all those years ago too. For weeks all he heard was bullshit about Seoul’s new perfect Golden savior and his perfect body and perfect smile. Everyone had fallen in love with him and honestly? It pissed Taehyung off.

He never expected that on his first time seeing the boy he would be so hypnotized by the sight that he couldn’t move. Not even out of the way of a collapsing and burning hospital wall. He also didn’t expect to be whisked away in those perfect arms that were so warm and real he could cry. Or to be so close to the perfect face he could see every crease of strained determination and every drop of sweat rolling down his jaw. To this day, Taehyung maintains that it was a spiritual experience. His only critique is that paralyzing attractiveness isn’t the best trait to have while trying to keep people out of danger.

A scream rips out from the building and Golden Boy stops. Taehyung holds his breath, knowing he can’t just let the building drop and save the lady stuck inside. Golden Boy waits for a moment for the next shrieking ‘Help me! Somebody!’ and his head pivots to where the sound comes from. In a moment, he pushes the building in the direction of the metal monster with all his might and disappears inside. The building sways dangerously downward but as soon as it crashes, Golden Boy swoops out of the other side with a women crying in his arms. He flies away from the wreckage to put her down safely and Taehyung chases after them.

“Where do you think you’re running off to, little mouse?” A dangerously smooth voice calls out from above him. He looks up quickly and see’s the city’s most feared super villain, complete with cat ears and a Cheshire grin, hanging from a light pole. Taehyung keeps running.

“Fuck no, man. I need this shot.”

The infamous Kinetic Kitty just cackles before catapulting himself off of the pole. Everything goes black.

 

 

Taehyung groans as the bag is pulled over his head, “Did you have to hit me that hard?”

Kinetic Kitty’s face is unsettlingly close to Taehyung’s as he smirks. He leans pack and throws the black bag across the room, “Did you like the destroyer?” Taehyung is propped up on a chair in what looks like on of the villain’s hideouts.

“I always thought mind control, world domination and theft was more your thing, not demolition. What did the recording studio ever do to you?” Taehyung watches the villain curiously.

“Ah… you noticed that? Of course you did,” he mutters to himself, “Would you believe I just wanted to see you?” Kitty wraps his legs around one of the many poles in the lair and hangs his head back to look at the reporter. His black body suit clings to him like a second skin in all the sinfully wrong ways.

“Never,” Taehyung smiles back.

“Alright, don’t laugh, though,” His mouth twists before he drops to the ground, “They rejected Yoongi hyung when he was younger. When he was telling me the story I could just feel how much it broke him, you know? Those bastards deserved it.”

Taehyung laughs his ass off. “Tae! You promised you wouldn’t laugh,” Jimin whines as he slips off his mask.

“Oh my God, you’re crazy. Knowing you it was like five years ago, too.”

“Eight.” Jimin mumbles. Taehyung laughs harder.

Yoongi is a broke ass grad student majoring in music theory who was unlucky enough to catch the eye of Seoul’s Killer Kitty one day. Kitty was robbing an art museum, lazily picking some out for his new room as people cowered in fear. Yoongi was just staring at him slink around in his body suit, pirouetting onto benches to look at the art from up higher and generally being his overdramatic self. Kitty turned around when he heard his minions shouting at someone. He saw Yoongi, fearless even with a gun to his head, staring directly at him.

“What are you looking at, Darling?”

“The Art,” Yoongi answers, never taking his eyes off of Jimin.

The super villain giggled, latched himself onto Yoongi and hasn’t let go since. (Taehyung has heard the story at least seven times: “Do you get it Tae? He meant that I was the art.”)

“Look, I’m not that bad,” Jimin huffs.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “No babe, you’re so obsessive you’d probably make a machine to get him to fall in love if he wasn’t already gay as fuck and soft for you.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and he picks up his phone, face red and flustered. Taehyung’s eyes narrow, “What are you doing?”

“Telling Joonie to cancel plans on the Gaydar,” Jimin says offhand as he texts.

“Was it to see if Yoongi was Gay? Chim, you could have just asked him.”

“Uhhhh more like a radar strong enough to turn the whole city gay as collateral damage. Just to be sure before I did anything.”

Taehyung stares for a long while before wheezing in laughter, “Well I can’t say I’d be against that.” Not many things made him happier than his best friend’s hopelessness. Jimin’s face burns red and Taehyung wipes tears from his eyes and sighs, “What about this dude has your panties in such a twist? 

Jimin groans and drags a hand through his hair. He throws himself gracefully onto a pole, twisting up to release his frustration. He relaxes when he reaches the ceiling, hanging upside down from his knees. “I took him home to my lair and showed him my inventions, my artwork, even-even my room of treasure, Taehyung! And what does he say?” Jimin mimics Yoongi with an exaggerated shrug, “It’s alright,” He drops and lands perfectly on his feet, “Like, no sweetie, even the toilet paper is designer, it’s a little more than alright,” Jimin hisses. “Just what does it take to impress this boy.”

Taehyung had met Yoongi before. Jimin slinks around the room like a cat while he talks, hangs from pillars and poles and generally hates standing still. Yoongi is the opposite. On the kidnapping they first met, Yoongi was sitting in the corner smoking a cigarette and watching coolly as Jimin practically jumped off walls trying to get a rise out of him. He would just smirk while Jimin got more and more frustrated by the lack of verbal praise or acknowledgement.

Taehyung thought they were sickening together, how Jimin tried way too hard and how Yoongi would low key do anything for him too. Unsurprisingly, the three got along like a house on fire. Taehyung mused once it’s because Jimin doesn’t care about societal rules so he fucks everything up for fun and evil, Taehyung doesn’t care about societal rules so he spends his life questioning them and revealing the truths for the greater good and Yoongi just flat out doesn’t care. They were a dangerous trio.

He chuckles softly at his friends misery, “Chill, babe. It’s a good thing he’s not into your riches. It means he actually wants to be around you and your horrible personality.”

Jimin’s spirit lightens instantly, “I am despicable.”

“You could start with something he actually likes.”

“Like what?” He pouts in thought. “He likes me, obviously. Ramen noodles at four thirty in the morning… Music? Yeah he likes music, but he only he only has a shitty keyboard and—“ Jimins eyes widen comically, “That’s it! Taebaby, you’re a genius! I’ll steal him a grand piano- the best! Oh, and I’ll clear out a whole room for it and fill it up with all the instruments he wants,” he sweeps around the room with his eyes bright as stars, already planning everything in his mind, "And computers! All the button-y sound things–"

Taehyung scoffs with a small smile, “You’re such a klepto, kitty. Tell me how it goes.”

Jimin smiles back, “Look at you being all understanding and caring, as always. Don’t look at me like that, you know you’re a saint. Someone already as perfect as Golden Dick doesn’t deserve you.” Taehyung feels his neck burn as he glares. “Speaking of, your lover boy should be here soon.”

Jimin swipes his mask off the floor and puts in back on. He begins to tie Taehyung up and connects him to a cable from the ceiling. This is a pretty average Tuesday evening for both of them. He pulls the lever on the side that lifts Taehyung into the air 

They met during Kitty’s ‘kidnap all the civilians’ phase. It was a fun power play and it pissed Golden Boy off, always a plus, but it was pretty exhausting unless he used mind control. Also exhausting. Kitty would hang people from apartments, malls and bridges- one time he even started a game of hide and seek in the sewers. Well, it was more hide the people and watch the heroes follow the melodramatic shrieks. More often than not, Taehyung was the one hanging from ridiculous places and preying for his life because he was just always there. At the front lines of the action no matter what and the easiest to pick up by far (he was less likely to scream and kick for his life, and more likely to whisper a quiet ‘fuck, not again’). By the time Jimin got bored of messing with real people, they were already inseparable. Hours spent gossiping and condemning the government will do that.

 

Jimin also noticed quickly how flustered Taehyung got when golden boy came to save the day. He even encouraged him, “Come on Tae, haven’t you noticed that it’s always Goldie Locks that comes to save you and never Hope?” Taehyung was powerless over how quickly his little crush turned into a soul crushing infatuation. He keeps telling Jimin, and himself, that he just puts up with all this to get the good interviews. Not because he gets manhandled by his wet dream.

 

Jimin doesn’t buy it but keeps kidnapping Taehyung because, hey, what are friends for? He’s also bored a lot. Every once and a while he’ll kidnap some other poor motherfucker to make it look less suspicious and Taehyung thinks that’s pretty sweet. In an evil, super villainy, kind of way.

As if on cue, Golden Boy bursts through the window. He lands in the superhero pose. Taehyung wants to groan in secondhand embarrassment but his body wants to groan in a different way and, honestly, he feels personally attacked. The sun shines on him through the window in warm beams that make his golden suit glow and Taehyung’s pissed. How is it fair that he even has the sun on his side? He pretends to catch his breath while he analyses his surroundings. When his eyes meet Taehyung’s, suspended in the middle of the room, he smirks and stands up slowly 

“Dial back on the sexual tension, darling. Arch nemesis, right here,” Jimin smirks and stalks across the room, beginning lazy circles around Golden Boy.

“Kitty. What a surprise to find you here with the hostage,” Golden boy watches him from the corner of his eye, relaxed and focused. When Jimin is directly behind him, the cat pushes off the wall and catapults himself towards the hero, claws out.

“Shocking turn of events, I know,” Jimin shoots back sarcastically. He's thrown across the room as Golden Boy blocks him, landing on his feet without a hair out of place, of course.

“You’re always so unpredictable,” he watches Kitty leap from a pole to the rafters, eyeing him from the darkness.

Kitty lets out a giggle that sounds more like Jimin than the unsettling laughter Kinetic Kitty is known for, “Truly.” He disappears from sight in the mess of roof but they all know the hero can hear him, “Quickly, little Golden Retriever. Your damsel is about to be fed to the sharks.”

Taeyhung remembers he exists and tries not to die of embarrassment.

In a second, Kitty drops behind Golden Boy and throws him to the ground with precision and speed. There’s a reason people are terrified of him, with or without his plans and tech. When Golden Boy retaliates, he overacts a defeat, throwing himself out of the window with a light, “Oh no!” It’s mortifyingly obvious but Jimin’s never been one for subtlety.

 

An amused chuckle bubbles out of Golden Boy and he turns his attention beck to Taehyung. Face red and hanging hopelessly.

He raises a brow, “Are you gonna untie me or what?”

“Hmm,” Golden Boy looks around and shrugs as if he’s thinking about it. “Why do I always get the feeling you’re not a damsel in distress?”

“What? Look at me. I’m the poster child of distress. I’m hanging from a ceiling over a chalk drawing of sharks, you Golden ass.” Taehyung struggles a bit to prove his point, not caring how strange he must look doing the worm in mid air. 

Golden Boy only laughs, leaning leisurely against the wall, “Are you not important for the real sharks any more? 

Taehyung tries not to pout (he totally pouts), “Guess not. They were always more for visual power than anything though, even Kitty admits that. 

“Fraternizing with the enemy again,” Golden boy tsks, “This doesn’t look too good for you. 

“Just get me down.”

“Magic word?” Tae glares. Golden Boy deflects it with a dazzling smile.

“Please save me, Golden Boy” Taehyung deadpans. He only stares back. After a ridiculously short amount of time, Taehyung gives up and tries again with a whine, “Pretty please?”

The hero finally pushes himself off the wall, “You know, as often as we meet like this, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing you all tied up and pretty for me.” 

Taehyung is a flustered mess in an instant and doesn’t have time to collect himself before a pair of lean and muscular arms wrap around him and sever him from the rope he’s hanging on. They don’t land immediately. Instead Taehyung is whisked out the window. He grips onto the hero for dear life when he notices they’re flying out of one of the tallest towers in Seoul – until he remembers, hey, it’s Golden Boy, Taehyung could literally fling himself off the building and he’d be fine.

Instead of going down, they land on the roof. Taehyung stumbles a bit before steadying himself. When a gust of wind hits, a strong arm keeps him from tumbling off the building and he smiles in thanks. He sits down and untangles himself, not wanting to risk death by breeze.

 

Seoul is spread out in front of them, intricate and bustling with a winding river Taehyung can just make out in the distance. There are a couple of crumbling buildings and construction sites, a side effect of being a huge metropolis in a world with villains and superheroes. Taehyung wonders for a moment if the workers at the construction sites know how important they are. That if they didn’t exist, the whole city would be in ruins all the way out to Incheon. He should probably do an expose about it for the paper… Heroes in the Wreckage? The City Saviors? He grips onto the camera on his neck and begins to capture the view, beautiful, alive and now a moment solidified in time–

 

“Forget about me already?” The voice is whispered way too close to his ear and Taehyung yelps, camera jumping out of his hands in surprise. He fumbles to catch it, heavily breathing and ears burning. The super boy laughs, nose scrunched under his mask and bunny teeth showing in the most endearing way. Taehyung takes a photo in a daze, another moment beautiful and alive and frozen on his camera. It’s funny how much the city’s hero looks like a boy here, bright eyed and real. He knows immediately he’ll never show the photo to anyone else, never use it for an article like all the others with powerful stances and an untouchable smile. No, this one is for him.

Eventually Golden Boy is just staring at him, smiling slightly with that look in his eyes. That look that always reminds Taehyung there’s something unspoken between them. Something between the fleeting touches and teasing that he can never quite pin down. A dark part of Taehyung whispers that maybe he never will.

“So, uh, interview?” He manages to wrench himself out of his thoughts, already holding the camera in between them.

“Interview?” Golden boy raises a brow, amused and not giving him a break.

Taehyung nods, conclusively, choosing to ignore Golden Boy completely, “Interview.”

“With how many times you ask me that question, I would have thought you’d be a bit better at it,” Golden boy teases, “At least when we met you could get the full sentence out.”

Taehyung huffs, not responding, and wills himself to calm the fuck down. He sinks into focus. Golden Boy used to stay well away from media but Taehyung prides himself on being as honest and least sensationalised as possible. While that didn’t help at all climbing up the rungs of journalism, it did get him exclusive rights to interviews with the illusive Golden Boy. All it took was a little trust. Some honesty. And maybe his pretty face, but that’s beside the point.

The interview is short and sweet, as always. Golden Boy assures people the streets are safe again and he will always be looking out for them, answering all questions with his shoulders straight and chin strong. Taehyung signs off the video with his signature boxy smile.

As soon as he shuts off camera, the Golden Boy he knows is back, laughing cheekily and a total ass. He takes the camera out of Taehyung’s hands in a flash and he falls forward trying to get it back. The hero takes a couple shots of him, probably glaring in indignation, before holding it out of his reach. Taehyung grasps for it, gripping on to the other’s shoulder for leverage.

Much too slowly, Taehyung realises what kind of position he’s in, straddling Golden Boys lap and pushing against his chest to reach further. Before he can crawl off spluttering, the hand that’s not holding the forgotten camera brushes against his waist. It’s not a strong grip, not even a grip, because the both know Golden Boy could hold him down in any way he wanted to. It’s gentle, timid and barely there and goes against everything Golden Boy seems to be, but somehow it fits. It’s so him, the boy with the bunny teeth and goofy laugh and God, Taehyung is so endeared.

Their faces are inches apart and once he realises Taehyung isn’t moving away, his smirk is back and his grip on the others waist gets firm, pulling him down closer. Taehyung moans at the contact. It isn’t the first time he’s fantasized about the Hero holding him down and taking control as Taehyung gets fucked into oblivion but he shudders at how real that fantasy could become.

He pushes himself down experimentally and feels Golden Boys unsteady breath against his lips. His eyes never look away from the ones behind the mask and he knows this is the closest he’s ever seen them, dark and lusting. Just for him. He leans forward until their noses touch, breathing entwined like they are each other’s oxygen supplies. Everywhere Golden boy is touching him is simmering with electricity and he cant get enough.

He grinds down against something hard in Golden Boys lap and takes pride in the way his eyes grow lidded. They sit caught in their own world, held together by a tension they can taste on their tongues, waiting for the other to make a move and push them both over the edge.

A stronger current of wind swirls around the tower and throws Taehyung to the side before Golden Boy reaches out and steadies him. They stare at each other for a moment before breaking down into breathless laughter. The tension dissipated.

Taehyung drops down on his back and they sit side by side looking out at the view. After he catches his breath and unwinds, Golden Boy tosses the camera into his lap with a nonchalant, “Here,” and Taehyung laughs loudly.

“God, why do I put up with you?” He looks over at the boy staring at him. Their hair is blowing wildly but everything else calm, the city too far away to be anything louder than a pretty view.

“Is it the muscles? It’s always the muscles.” Golden Boy jokes easily, reminding Taehyung of the arms wrapped around him to save him from more angry wind. All he can manage is a breathy laugh.

That isn’t it, though. It never really was. There’s a glow in his eyes every once and a while that’s so precious, like it needs to be protected from the world. It was like a beacon of light and Taehyung was a moth, trying to get closer and closer to something. He has no idea who the person behind the mask is but he knows it sure as hell isn’t the man in his interviews. He can feel it so strongly but he can never scratch past the surface. It kills him a little sometimes.

“There’s something soft and beautiful about you, Golden Boy. I wish you would let me see you,” His words are soft spoken but sure. Unwavering.

There’s a pause where Taehyung is struck in the heart because Golden Boy’s mask falls away for the first time, and not the shiny latex one. He looks caught in headlights, wide eyed, like that moment scaling a mountain where your foot slips and for a terrifying couple of seconds you’re sure you’re about to fall to your death. He looks vulnerable.

“Maybe if things were different, Tae.”

 

Taehyung feels his breath catch and his heart drop. In a moment, Golden Boy is back with a dazzling smile and Taehyung is oh so lost.

Chapter Text

Taehyung runs his hand through his hair. Spread out in front of him is an obscene amount of printed interviews and articles; nine tabs open on his laptop and a notebook that is more unintelligible scratch marks than anything. There are people talking and laughing and eating in the restaurant café around and usually he’d be in the zone. He’s always a little chaotic when he really gets into a story, especially one as deep and corrupt as this one. He’s naturally focused. It’s like breathing for him. If breathing was a lot more exhausting. And complicated. And messy. You know what, maybe that’s not such a good metaphor after all.

But something had been stuck in his mind for days. It wasn’t like any of his other problems that he could just drown out with work because every time he thought he’d forgotten about it, the image of Golden Boys face flooded into his mind and drowned out anything else. Not just any image but that fleeting moment of fear, vulnerability. The moment that the city’s perfect hero looked small. 

At first he had been shocked, and more than a little curious. But the more his mind gripped onto the moment without permission, the more Taehyung could feel his heart breaking. Mourning for the Golden Boy who, at the end of the day, is still only a boy.

He’s a boy who carries the responsibility of the whole city on his shoulders. 

And his words, “Maybe if things were different.” At first, Taehyung thought he was talking about him being a reporter. Those kinds of stories were always tragic, sure. But the more he thought about it, it seemed less and less likely. He was talking about himself, wasn’t he? If he was different? It seems crazy to think that there could be anything wrong with Golden Boy, but maybe that’s the problem. That he’s Golden Boy but he’s also just a human being. A person. A boy who can look scared.

Taehyung groans and drops his head to the table. Every time he thinks he’s over his stupid crush on the city’s stupid perfect angel it swings around and hits him right in the face. And now it’s worse, sinking deeper into his heart that had built up defenses for sparkling smiles and confidence, but had no idea how to deal with a boy that might need him.

But he’s always known that, hasn’t he? He’s always seen through to something deeper inside of Golden Boy. He has no idea what it is or how to reach it but it’s there, alluring and so human. It’s the reason he can’t get enough of him, it’s what keeps him breathless, that he’s not perfect. Not even a little bit.

He curses his annoying ability to notice everything. And his need to overthink. And you know what, just how he is as a person, in general. Fuck all of that. 

He can feel the vibrations of his phone blowing up on his cheek. Any other day this is a welcome distraction, but he knows its Jimin gushing about Yoongi without even looking. Usually their talks are a little more nihilism and a little less boy-crazy, but Taehyung is always at the mercy of Jimin’s obsessions. His most recent obsession has only gotten worse since the ‘Piano Incident’ (Taehyung’s personal name for it). Honestly, he doesn’t need to know how they christened the grand piano like Jimin was auditioning for a pretty women remake, or how Yoongi had no problem with voicing praise while Jimin was laid out under him. Or the second round when he was punished on camera for being a tease. Or the third, bound in kinbaku ropes and fucked in front of all the priceless art where Yoongi said he belonged. Nope, nuh-uh.

Taehyung needs to invest in some pretty serious trauma serum or straight up bleach before he can open up the rest of the texts.

 

(Honestly, it’s probably the scattered cute and gross messages that make him want to gauge his eyes out with a rusty spork:

 ‘he calls me his ketamine kitty because i make him happy! isnt that the sweetest thing?’

‘i mean.. its something.’

 

‘i want to be his kinky kitty 4 life help.’

‘im the one who needs help hoe. pay for my therapy.’

 

‘b said he doesnt need gifts cause I’m his 24 karat kitty already~~ and he made me chocolate chip pancakes this morning cause his pet needs to stay healthy’

‘chimingles. love. my frail heart needs a break.’

‘(also how the fuck are chocolate chip pancakes healthy)’

 

‘taebaby! he told me i was his kryptonite kitty because im his only weakness.’

‘kill me now.’)

 

He takes a breath and picks up his pen. He feels a little obligated to finish this story before the next morning, when the drug trials go public and people start taking what they think are new normal antibiotics, while they’re actually infused with tracking and mind altering substances courtesy of T.O.P, one of the most chilling villains in Korea. Honestly, Taehyung’s job got so much harder when politicians started partnering with villains worldwide. He supposes it’s expected, there’s no money in being heroic, but the crimes are getting more dangerous. With that kind of power behind them, they can exploit the public as much as they want and cover it up just as quickly. A new age of villains you can’t fight with fists is taking over, and it scares the shit out of Taehyung that no one is really noticing. 

He can see the waiter coming in the corner of his eye with his Americano— no, his tea. He cut himself off from coffee once his hands started to shake half an hour ago. He keeps his head down, refusing to let himself take a break.

 

“W-would you, uh, like milk and sugar with that, sir?” The voice is soft and timid and breathtakingly familiar. Taehyung’s eyes snap up in a heartbeat. The boy is standing in front of him, looking at the milk and sugar in his hands and nervously biting his lip. Taehyung forgets everything else. Those lips. He would remember those lips even years after his body is dead and buried and before he can stop himself he’s standing, leaning over the table and pressing a kiss to the boy with the wide and beautiful eyes. 

The kiss is something because Taehyung never does anything half assed. He curls his fingers into the other’s hair and deepens it like it can translate everything he feels that he doesn’t even understand himself yet. When he feels a gentle hand brush against his waist in a whispered response, he thinks it just might be able to.

Until a vibration on his phone wrenches him back into the restaurant filled with people where he’s kissing a boy he doesn’t even know the name of. 

The waiter boy is a blushing mess when he pulls away. He almost spills the milk in his hands before it clatters onto the table. Taehyung chuckles fondly, “You’re so much cuter than I thought you’d be.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud but he can’t stop his heart from swelling. His lips are tingling like pulling away was the opposite of a good idea. 

There’s a long pause as the boy stares at the floor and Taehyung can feel his gut slowly sinking.

“Please tell me you know who I am or this will be ridiculously awkward,” He breathes out slowly. The boy’s brows furrow, conflicted, but when he looks up and meets the fear, uncertainty and definite sadness blooming in Taehyung’s own eyes, his mouth drops open gently. All he wants is to see the smile again.

“O-of course I know who you are, Tae.”

There’s a fragile moment suspended in time where Taehyung looks like this is too good to be true. He stares at the boy like he wants to do and say everything in the world to him and he doesn’t know where to start. He looks down at the nametag tentatively, fingers reaching out to trace the corners, “Jungkook. Beautiful name.”

Jungkook feels weak under the stare; like he’s made of glass and breathing too close could leave him broken. He only has time to blush awkwardly before his manager is yelling at him to get back to work, “It’s bad enough you disappeared four times last week, you lazy ass!”

He ducks away but not before Taehyung grabs his arm, “What time do you get off tonight?”

“I, uh– we close at ten thirty.”

Taehyung just smiles and sits back down at his chaotic makeshift desk in the middle of the restaurant, not even trying to take his eyes off of the flustered hero. He doesn’t get any more work done that evening but he finds he really doesn’t give a shit. That’s a problem for tomorrow Taehyung. Maybe a frantic 3am Taehyung.

 

(Of course he texts Jimin;

‘bitch!! guess who i just found. he’s an actual angel :( somehow im gayer.’

‘eyyyy get that golden dick ;) ;)’

‘but i want that golden heart,,’

‘blocked. reported.’)

 

(‘take care of him, tae.’)

 

 

Taehyung is waiting with a bag of Chinese takeout and two bottles of red wine when Jungkook gets off of work. He feels his breath catch when he sees him leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant, illuminated by street lamps. There was a blushing hope in his heart all day that he couldn’t stamp out, as much as he told himself to expect the worst. To expect that Taehyung wouldn’t be here waiting when he came out, and he would walk home alone to his tiny dark apartment.

He lets out a soft breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Taehyung pushes off the wall when he sees him, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself." 

They walk through the city in a silent dreamlike bubble. Their shoulders brush every once in a while and Jungkook can’t stop his heart from jumping out of his chest. It feels mind numbingly different from the playful flirting behind the mask and he has to will himself to keep breathing so he doesn’t drop dead on the streets.

He didn’t expect Taehyung to ever find him. They live in a metropolis of millions and Taehyung is a respected reporter. He goes to black tie functions (Jungkook only knows this because Golden Boy saved one party under siege of the Seventeen Bandits; it ended abruptly with all the jewels gone and many guests in their underwear, stripped of their expensive suits) and he meets the mayor (well, he used his jacket to cover the Mayor’s Calvin Kleins at that same party). Jungkook is a nobody. Insignificant. Even if they did meet, a day Jungkook was dreading, he never expected Taehyung to recognize him. He didn’t want Taehyung to recognize him.

What Taehyung wanted was Golden Boy. The charm and smiles and perfection. He could have lived forever making Tae laugh and blush like that, anonymous and allowing himself the quiet fantasy that one day they could be together. They could be like all the movies where the hero sweeps the damsel off their feet, with the mask and without it.

Too bad Jungkook is only a mask.

But now the illusion is over. Jungkook gets one night, tops, before Taehyung realises his mistake. He won’t hold it against him when he leaves.

Taehyung fumbles with the keys to his apartment, “Um, sorry if I scared you today. I can be a bit–“

“Impulsive?” Taehyung looks back sheepishly as his door opens and Jungkook chuckles, “It’s alright, Tae. I know.” That’s all the kiss was. Impulse. Taehyung doesn’t even know him.

Taehyung’s place is nice, technically. Each piece of furniture looks casually like it could cost the same as Jungkook’s entire apartment but his walls are covered in newspaper clippings, photos and evidence and his tabletops look worse than his work sprawled out at the restaurant. The lights are dim and warm and it’s so authentically Taehyung that it hurts.

“Just ignore… um, everything,” Taehyung mumbles as he drops the food and wine off at the kitchen counter. Jungkook does the opposite and walks closer to analyse one of the walls. Following lines of violet yarn over stories and fragmented clues, he registers that this is more than just Golden Boy and the pieces that get into a watered down news paper. These are tales of corruption, scandals and sinisterly underground plans of world domination that the city paper would be way too scared to publish.

He’s always known how brilliant Taehyung is, that his passion is something rivaled only by typhoons and the strongest deepest currents of the ocean, but seeing it up close, thoughts thrown around the room on loose sheets of paper and half finished stories, is something else entirely. He feels his heart swell with a pride he’s not sure if he’s allowed to feel, “Does it ever get confusing?" 

“The mess?” Jungkook nods back as he catches his eye. He watches Taehyung clear the last of the papers off the coffee table in the living room and toss the stack off to the side somewhere, “Hm, not really. It’s more like the easiest way to translate how my mind works into the real world before I write it all down.”

Taehyung takes out the Chinese take out from its plastic bag and picks up a wine bottle under his arm. He reaches for two glasses, clinking together between his fingers, and balances everything to the coffee table. Finally pleased with the set up, he drops himself on the carpet, ignoring the perfectly good couch behind him, and looks up at Jungkook. He pats the space on the floor next to him and Jungkook joins without question.

Sitting cross-legged, Jungkook grabs absently at the box of food while still looking up at the wall, “I don’t ever see that kind of stuff in the news you write.”

Taehyung smirks as he breaks his wooden chopstick. He doesn’t mention that the boy basically just admitted to following Taehyung’s work for fear of the younger choking on his food, “Yeah. Jin’s a good boss but the public couldn’t care less.” He pauses to take a bite of his chow mein, “I post it on my own site that he helped me start up.”

“So, like freelance?” Jungkook forces himself to look at Taehyung instead of avoiding his gaze for the rest of the night.

“Yeah, basically.” He says nonchalantly, leaning against the base of the couch, “Lots of shady investigation and weird leads. I write under the pseudonym V.”

“I, what? You’re V?” Jungkook splutters and looks around the room again, trying to process the information and honestly? It makes total sense, “The V who warned everyone about the mind control in prison systems in the US? Who saved literally all of Brazil from parasitic slime in children’s toys? Who’s the reason that G Dragon is in jail and not president of Korea? That V?”

Taehyung nods, wide eyed and mouth open, with food-laden chopsticks paused half way to his lips.

“You’re like a superhero,” Jungkook mumbles, embarrassingly star struck.

Taehyung snorts and it pulls him out of his shock, “Not even close.” Jungkook smiles softly like he doesn’t quite agree but makes no move to argue. It really isn’t a surprise. Taehyung is sharp, brilliant and insatiably curious. He’s always been out of Jungkook’s league – anyone’s league. He’s special. It makes Jungkook wonder what type of person could ever deserve someone like Taehyung.

Taehyung puts his take out box back on the table with all the others and picks up the deep red bottle, “They said this was some of the best wine they had so let’s see for ourselves, huh?”

“Tae, you didn’t have to,” Jungkook can’t stop his eye’s from widening and he shakes his head.

“I wanted to, Kookie,” Taehyung says softly, struggling to open the bottle. Jungkook blushes and looks away, missing how fondly Taehyung’s gaze is rested on him, “Plus! Chateau Latife goes great with Chinese take out. Although you probably shouldn’t repeat that – don’t want you to be burned at the stake for blasphemy.”

Jungkook has no idea what he’s talking about but he giggles anyway. Taehyung gives up on unscrewing the cork and hands it over to Jungkook who uncorks it immediately. He pours the wine into the glasses that Taehyung is holding with perfected technique, probably the only thing he’s proud of after years of waiter jobs, and rests the bottle on the table. Taehyung hands him his glass with a sly smile.

“So,” He holds his glass close to him, watching how Taehyung folds his legs to his chest so he can look straight at him, “Now that you know my secret identity,” (He says it like a joke but Jungkook doesn’t think it is), “do I get to ask questions?”

“Um, yeah? If you want.”

“Hm…” Taehyung’s long fingers trace the rim of his glass as he thinks, “You’re a fulltime superhero and part time waiter, then?”

“Full time waiter. Part time a lot of things… Being a superhero doesn’t exactly pay well. I uh, get fired a lot to be honest. Because I always disappear.” Jungkook looks down at into his glass, feeling like he’s said too much. God, the wine inside the glass alone was probably more than he made in a week. 

“Being Seoul’s savior comes at a cost, huh?” Taehyung looks like it doesn’t matter but Jungkook has a hard time believing him, “How old are you?” 

“Twenty-One.” 

“Shit. Do you even have time to go to uni?” Taehyung looks genuinely concerned and Jungkook sinks back into the base of the couch.

“I’m in online courses. Don’t uh… don’t worry about me. I tried a term at Yonsei when I first got to Seoul but saving the city doesn’t really work on a school schedule,” Jungkook feels like he’s making excuses for being a drop out and he really doesn’t know how to save himself. Taehyung was going to know the truth soon enough, anyway. 

The way Taehyung is looking at him says the opposite, though, and Jungkook is floored, “You got into Yonsei? Damn, I got waitlisted when I applied,” He laughs a little. Jungkook can’t really believe it but there’s something about Taehyung that makes him feel like everything is going to be okay. “So how’d you become Golden Boy?”

“I was born like this, no strength serum or radioactive animal bites. I had a hyung growing up, Park Jimin–“ Taehyung chokes on his wine and Jungkook chuckles, “He always pushed my towards it; said I was a disgustingly good person and the world needed more ‘lame old fashioned heroes’. His words, not mine.”

“Do you… uh, have you seen him lately?”

“Technically no, but we both know that’s not true,” Jungkook smiles and Taehyung laughs loudly and happily. 

“That asshole! He never told me.”

“He’s crazy, but he’s loyal. And annoying, literally dangling you in front of me to tease me,” Jungkook blushes violently when he realises what he just said and swallows the last of his glass. Taehyung pours him another.

“I always thought he was just fucking with me,” He holds up his drink, “Cheers to Jimin and his lovingly psychotic schemes.”

“Cheers.”

 

They get lost in conversation and drinking through the wine slowly. The take out boxes are scattered empty over the coffee table. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off Taehyung as he speaks because he looks so damn happy, bubbling over with excitement and passion. Jungkook lets him do most of the talking, happy to watch how comfortable he looks outside of his work clothes. His breath gets caught in his throat every time the loose jumper falls further over his shoulder or his glasses need to be readjusted. It’s probably the wine, but Jungkook hasn’t looked away from Taehyung once and he feels braver than he has in a long time without his mask.

“Can I ask… why didn’t you ever tell me your name?”

And there goes all his confidence. Jungkook looks a way in shock and a little bit of guilt seeps into his heart because Taehyung is looking at him unguarded and vulnerable. As if the answer would ever be that Taehyung wasn’t good enough for him.

“I’m not… I thought you would be disappointed,” He says quietly. There’s no point lying to Taehyung, he’ll see right through him. Taehyung just looks confused and worried and he can’t bring himself to look directly at him. “I’m not the same, obviously. I’m not perfect.”

“Perfection is overrated, Kookie. Sure I always thought you were hot and fun to be around, but now that I actually know you?” Taehyung’s tone is sharp at first but it melts into something soft, like he’s talking to a wounded animal. Jungkook put his glass down and prepared for the worst. He didn’t want to see how sad Taehyung’s eyes could look while they rejected him, “Jungkook you’re beautiful, you’re so fucking beautiful, ok?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow and he shivers when he feels Taehyung’s hand against his cheek, trailing lightly toward his chin. He feels himself falling harder and faster because this is real and Taehyung sees him, he doesn’t have his suit of armor and it’s going to hurt so much more in the end. He has to stop it. Now. Before he gets lost and foolish and has his heart ripped out before the sun even comes up. There’s a pause of unsteady breathing before he speaks again.

“Look, we’ve never seen each other, not really, and you know it. I’ve only seen you literally tied up and on a break from reality– not real and writing and living your life with glasses on and eating Chinese take out. And you’ve never seen me. You’ve seen Golden Boy who’s perfect and confident and can joke around with you like it’s nothing and – Taehyung, I can still be that for you. We can pretend this never happened and get on with our lives. I can sweep you off your feet and make you laugh and you can keep your happy moments with Golden Boy,” Jungkook’s heart is hammering in his chest and he thinks fleetingly that this is the most he’s said to another human being in a long time, “Or we can just never see each other again. It doesn’t have to be awkward.” 

Taehyung is deadly quiet, watching him, “Why would I want that?” His words are spoken low with his raspy voice and Jungkook can’t breath. 

“Trust me, Tae. You don’t want me.”

“Try me.”

“I’m behind on all my coursework, probably wont graduate, I can’t keep a job, I’m going to lose my apartment because of it– I’m a nervous wreck, Taehyung. Everyone tells me I’m too shy, my parents think I’m a failure and I’ll never be able to prove them wrong. I’ve never been with someone who didn’t leave me for someone else, ok? Someone better,” He feel’s his voice cracking, “Trust me.

“You think that’s because of you?”

“What else could it be?” He makes the mistake of looking back up at Taehyung.

His face is heartbroken, looking so deeply into Jungkook and there’s nowhere else to hide. He speaks softly, like Jungkook could fall apart at any second and he’s not exactly wrong, “Kookie, no,” He reaches out to touch his cheek again and this time cards his fingers through the boy’s hair, “Fuck all of that. It only shows how much you’ve given up to keep people safe. I’m not here for Golden Boy, Jungkook, I’m here for you. All the little glimpses of who you are, you know I’ve seen them. You, right now, with your precious fucking smile and your huge heart, that’s who I’m here for. That’s who I want to get to know and talk to for hours and wake up next to in the mornings. If those assholes couldn’t see that, it’s their loss, because you’re something really special.” 

Jungkook feels himself tear up before he can stop it, “You really mean that?”

“Oh baby, of course. Come here,” He opens up his arms and Jungkook falls into them, not being able to stop the flood of tears that rack through him. Taehyung rubs his back and whispers sweet nothings into his hair. He can’t say out loud that he hasn’t been genuinely hugged or even touched in far too long. His family stayed back in Busan and they’ve all but disowned him, not knowing what he really does for Seoul everyday. He hasn’t seen Jimin in years and his last boyfriend was more likely to fuck him than talk to him. He feels himself calm down and for the first time he feels like maybe things will be ok. Maybe he can by loved.

Jungkook takes a shaky breath, “Sorry– sorry, I’m a mess.” 

“No," He pauses, like there's so many things on his mind that he doesn't really know how to say them all, "you’re human.”

They’re quiet for a long time. Wrapped in Taehyung’s arms on the floor of his living room, Jungkook thinks he could definitely be loved one day. He feels the last of his self-restraint fall away and he whispers one last time, “Are you sure, Tae?” 

“Look at me, Kookie,” He pulls back a bit so the boy can turn his head towards him, “You’ve saved me half a million times, from lasers and Jimin’s half assed recreation of Jurassic Park and– oh God, do you remember when he thought it would be fun to make a human cannonball? We didn’t really know each other back then so I guess I forgive him, but if you hadn’t caught me midair I would be road kill right now. I think it’s only fair I get to save you a couple times, too,” Jungkook giggles and he pokes his scrunched up nose, “Right?” 

Finally he let's himself be a little happy.

 

He wrinkles his face as he sniffles and Taehyung thinks it’s cute as heck. He can see the boy he’s been trying to look for the whole time and he can't help but smile, “Hey, you want to stay over? We can cuddle and watch Treasure Planet?”

“Toy Story or no deal,” Jungkook says stubbornly but curls closer into his arms like he would stay no matter what.

Taehyung sighs over dramatically and nudges his nose into the boy’s hair, “You drive a hard bargain, kid. I’ll fold.” He’ll always fold.

He takes another, deeper, breath. Honestly, there’s anger swelling inside of him. He’s angry at anyone who ever made Jungkook feel worthless and he’s angry that this is the boy the whole city is in love with yet he feels so alone. He’s angry with himself because he never dug deeper or cared more, too content with his crush and harmless flirting. Mostly, however, he just feels protective. A little part of him has always been protective of the light and life that shone through the cracks in Golden Boy’s mask.

Now that he sees Jungkook in front of him, broken and shining and so fucking soft, he never wants to let go.

 

 

After a while they get in to huge worn T-shirts that Taehyung deems are worthy cuddling material and begin to clear up the table, “So is it an act? Golden Boy?” 

“No it’s… I mean it’s still me it’s just–“

“Not the only part of you,” Taehyung finishes his sentence, nodding. They’re both lightly buzzed on the bottles of wine and Taehyung can’t stop glancing over at him while he throws the empty boxes away.

“Yeah, Jimin always thought I was a brat. It’s just a lot easier with the mask now,” He leans over the kitchen counter, waiting for Taehyung to finish. 

“You think you rely on it?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung hums, thinking for a while. That’s probably a conversation for another time, something they can work on piece by piece. They have all the time in the world. He changes the topic to something lighter, “Think you could fuck like Golden Boy without the mask?”

Taehyung expects Jungkook to blush and stutter like he’s been doing all night. Maybe laugh a little. He’s not prepared for a devilish smirk and something dark smoldering behind his eyes as the atmosphere changes in a heartbeat. The shock turns Taehyung into the blushing virgin. He’s at the mercy of a familiar raw confidence like all the years he’s followed the boy around with a notebook and camera. He stands frozen, trapped in the burning eye contact and the way Jungkook seems to find it amusing.

“You know I could.”

Taehyung coughs and stares, red in the face. It takes him a moment to get himself together again, “Uh, Toy Story?”

“Toy Story?” Jungkook is playing with him, of course. He looks at him with those eyes that Taehyung can finally see without the mask, full of warmth and adoration.

What makes Taehyung smile back is how comfortable he finally looks. He nods, decidedly, “Toy Story.”

 

 

There are nights where Taehyung does get fucked into every wall in his apartment and the ceiling, nights where he can’t remember his own name through sobs and nights that tear his old fantasies down into the flimsy daydreams that they were. They could never stand up to how he gets wrecked with handprints that last for weeks as more marks layer beautifully over his skin. Or the nights where Taehyung clings to him, tearing skin with his nails, over the lights of Seoul until everything falls away except the way Jungkook is looking at him, dominating and hungry.

But the nights Taehyung treasures most are those where he holds the boy below him like he’s made of glass, whispering into every sensitive patch of skin how beautiful he is and watching him shudder at the words. The nights when Jungkook finally starts to believe it and they cling to each other like the world is falling apart and they’re the only thing that matters, breath and hearts entwined.

Chapter Text

Taehyung stretches in bed with a soft moan. The warm light streaming in through the windows lulls his eyes open. His legs are spread out, one sprawled over the body in bed next to him, and the blankets are a mess at his feet. He’s always been a restless sleeper, kicking and turning all night because of the energy he still has left over from the day. Anyone else would have been thrown off of the bed, bleary eyed and annoyed, but his Jungkook is still curled up to his side, grip tight and keeping him in place.

The thought makes his chest flutter even months after waking up to the same view. He shifts in Jungkook’s arms, close enough so their noses just barely touch. He knows increasingly well that he’s never going to get out of the boy’s arms until he wakes him up, just as he does every other morning. Oh, the struggle . Taehyung presses soft kisses to the sleeping hero wrapped around him, anywhere he can reach. His nose, cheeks, eyelids. When he gets to Jungkook’s lips (that he’s decided are the world’s best lips, 12/10, everyone else go home) he can’t help but lose himself. Jungkook stirs lazily and kisses back, just as deeply.

Taehyung chuckles when he pulls back and the boy pretends to still be sleeping, “Kookie, baby, get up.”

All he gets is a disgruntled, “Hmm,” and a pout in return. Now that he’s awake, Taehyung can start to peel the arms off of him but they pull him in closer immediately.

“Come on, Kooks,” He purrs, lips brushing against the boy’s ear and neck, “I’ll trade you, like, three whole kisses.”

Jungkook rolls over in response, as if that’ll solve his problem. His grip is still tight and he drags Taehyung over top of him and to the other side, startled and squawking in a surprise fit of laughter.

“Jungkookie, please!” His chastising is much less effective while he’s laughing, “We don’t have to get out of bed for half an hour.”

Jungkook cracks open his eyes at that, regarding him suspiciously, “We don’t?”

“Yeah, so be a good boyfriend and give me my morning cuddles,” He can’t keep the smile off of his face as he speaks. Jungkook is a slut for cuddles and they both know it. (They also both know that Taehyung is probably worse). Jungkook pounces on him, all hints of sleep gone, and Taehyung giggles like an idiot as he always does at the younger’s antics. Jungkook kisses down his neck and pulls him in closer by the waist, now effortlessly careful of his super strength and the fact that he could crush bone in a heartbeat. Taehyung wraps his arms around the boy’s neck protectively and nudges his forehead into the soft black hair. They talk softly to each other between kisses, voices husky with sleep and drenched in love.

Truthfully, it’s only Taehyung that has to get up for work. But when Jungkook had realised that the reporter couldn’t cook for shit, living off a diet of sugary cereal and leftover take-out, he swore that he would make breakfast for his useless, brilliant lover everyday. Taehyung humours him, always. It’s adorably overdramatic - how adamant Jungkook is to save him from Frosted Flakes and Coco Puffs.

It doesn’t hurt that the view of Jungkook with messy hair and an oversized t-shirt standing in his kitchen is one he thinks he’ll never get used to. Even when they’re old and wrinkled and Golden Gramps is still fighting crime around the city, or at least the founder of youth help organizations and charities. Taehyung doesn’t doubt that Jungkook is always going to be at the mercy of his big heart, even if it leaves him broke and homeless. Helping everyone else will always be what pushes him foreword.

Taehyung never used to think about his future, always clouded by the now and his love for work, but what he does know is that he’ll always be at the mercy of Jungkook’s heart as well. Even if he’s the only person watching over him as his Golden Boy saves everyone else. He’ll be there.

 

They kiss each other out of bed slowly, leaning on the other for motivation to start the day. In the open kitchen, Taehyung drags himself onto a stool on the kitchen counter. The same one as always, with a perfect view of Jungkook pulling out ingredients from the fridge. It’s a simple breakfast for a lazy Friday. Jungkook prepares rice for the rice cooker and bacon starts to sizzle on the pan, filling the room with what Taehyung thinks heaven must smell like. Taehyung feels spoilt. He chops up spring onions and vegetables to go with an egg, because the super-reporter has to eat his veggies whether he likes it or not.

Taehyung can’t stop himself from walking over and wrapping himself around Jungkook. He nuzzles his face into his neck and the boy pushes lightly back into his embrace. He can never really believe how lucky he is, especially in moments like these, so ridiculously fond of the man in his arms. It’s like a dream, except so vividly real that it makes Taehyung’s head spin.

Of course they’ve hit problems in the handful of months that they’ve been together. They’re flawed. After they dove so quickly into each other, without regrets or hesitation, it’s to be expected. They never fight, if only because Taehyung is too quick thinking and logical to be swayed by a temper and Jungkook shuts down instead of lashing out, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other ways it gets strained. It took time and work for Taehyung to figure out all of the signs of Jungkook retreating into his mind and all of the ways to lure him back out again with patience and honesty.

It took a little longer for Jungkook to notice when Taehyung began to crumble, carrying the responsibility of his mind and the darkness of the world on his shoulders. But he does. And he’ll be there with ice cream and old movies that he doesn’t really understand to let Taehyung piece himself back together.

They fit together in the way in the way their limbs hook around the other’s like puzzle pieces, the way they can never really stop themselves from being pulled together like gravity if they’re in the same room. What Taehyung loves most is that they fit together in a way he can’t put into words, which is a first for him. The way they can communicate with a look or a touch. Taehyung never thought he needed anyone but now he can’t imagine a day without Jungkook’s smile making everything a little brighter.

What Taehyung loves most is that they’re not perfect. Taehyung may be gifted but he has no skills to exist in the real world as a functioning adult. He thinks too much and lets his mind run wild into anxiety. He can’t cook or sleep like a normal person. Jungkook still doesn’t really know how to love himself without Taehyung, but he’s getting there, step by step. He’s trying.

To be loved for every flaw is something neither of them has ever felt and it’s breathtaking.

Honestly, Taehyung is so in love that it hurts. He shows it in the way he touches the boy, how he talks to him like the sun rising depends on Jungkook’s happiness. He hasn’t said it yet, not so much scared as he is just waiting for the moment Jungkook will believe it.

“Your birthday tomorrow,” Taehyung reminds him, mumbling into the soft hairs on his neck, “You think more about what you want?”

“You,” It’s almost a joke, but it’s his honest answer and they both know it. Taehyung chuckles deeply into his skin and goosebumps flower over Jungkook’s arms.

“Are you still okay with people coming over?” Taehyung steps back slightly and begins to rub away the new tension in Jungkook’s back and shoulders.

“Yeah, Tae, I just,” He turns away from his cooking to face him, voice soft and unsure, “What if they don’t like me? What if something goes wrong?”

Taehyung presses a kiss to Jungkook’s forehead on his tip toes and smooth’s his hands from the boy’s shoulders to his arms and back up soothingly, “Baby, I can’t tell the future but there isn’t anything about you that they couldn’t like. Plus, the only people you don’t know are Yoongi and Namjoon, everyone else already loves you.”

“They do?”

“Of course, Kookie. Jin wouldn’t stop talking about you after my work party, remember?” Jungkook blushes a bit at the memory of Taehyung’s boss basically adopting him at the newspaper’s small anniversary party, “He keeps asking when I’m going to bring you to work so he can treat you to lunch.”

“Really?” Jungkook looks more at ease, instinctively taking care of the food so it doesn’t burn. Taehyung smiles and gives him another peck on the cheek.

“Of course, love. You can come with me today if that’ll make you feel better,” Taehyung looks at the time and groans, head dropping back on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, if you’re sure.”

Taehyung kisses him softly, cutting them both off as he steps back, “Of course, I’m sure, you’re always welcome.”

He pecks him on the lips again but doesn’t have any self control when it comes to Jungkook and he can’t pull himself away. His hands curl around the boy’s neck and he deepens the kiss hungrily. In a second, the moment thickens, and Jungkook picks him up by the back of his thighs to carry him to the counter in the middle. Hand’s pull harshly on Taehyung’s hair and he moans, softening to the dominating touch. He pushes himself closer to Jungkook, needy and pliant. The lips on his own are skilled and relentless and Taehyung gives himself up to it without a fight.

The last morning alarm shrills once, loudly, and both of them are pulled out from the kiss and their haze. Taehyung looks at him, noses still so close they could almost touch and laughs softly– why were they so predictable? He chooses to run his fingers through Jungkook's hair and lay his head to rest on his shoulder instead of reheating the moment like every cell in his body was telling him to do.

“Fuck, I really have to get ready,” Taehyung pants breathlessly, pulling himself away, muttering, “Always late, I swear.”

Jungkook nods with a small smile and slaps him on the ass as he jumps down and jogs to the bedroom. Strangely, it makes Taehyung kind of proud – always focusing on the little stupid things that reveal the confidence Jungkook has when it’s just them.

He’s fiddling with the sleeves of his button up when he hears an explosion rattle through the city. It’s long and rumbling, most likely devastating. He darts to the kitchen, “Jungkook? Did you–“ the living room is empty when he gets there, bacon still sizzling on the stove, “–hear that?”

The sliding glass doors of his balcony are thrown open with the curtains billowing and the papers on the wall fluttering. Some articles on the table would have been blown over; except for the paperweights that Taehyung bought after the first time this happened. The oversized shirt is discarded on the floor and the backpack Jungkook keeps his golden suit in when he’s sleeping over is ripped open. The rice cooker clicks off behind him and Taehyung chuckles.

He has enough sense in the kitchen to turn the fire off because the food looks more or less done (really, he has no fucking clue). He eats quickly, watching the clock, and packs a portion for his lunch like Jungkook always does for him. There’s enough left in the rice cooker and stove for the superhero to recharge after he saves Seoul. Taehyung takes out a pad of paper and a pen, because Golden Boy doesn’t think twice about disappearing to save the world but Jungkook will feel guilty about leaving him without a word.

Jungkookie~

Thank you! Breakfast was delicious, as always. There’s some left for you when you get hungry, don’t go too long on an empty stomach! Come to the office if you have time, Jin would love it. See you tonight.

Good luck saving the city, baby,

Tae Tae.

 

He leaves his balcony doors unlocked when he goes to work.

 

 

Taehyung groans in pain, confident that one day he wont wake up after too many repeated concussions, “Do you really need to kidnap me now that Golden Boy and I know each other?”

Kitty lets out an offended whine as he pulls the bag off of the reporter’s head, “I see how it is, you’re getting laid so you don’t need me anymore?”

Taehyung laughs and rolls his eyes, “No, babes, but I could just come over. You know– willingly.”

Jimin pouts, affronted, as he slips off his mask, “Where’s the fun in that?” He has a lollipop in his hand that he can never open the wrapper for and he tosses it over. Taehyung unwraps it in a second and passes it back.

Taehyung had gone to the airport where the explosion took place once he checked into work. He hadn’t even figured out what was happening before he was knocked out and taken captive. What he did know was that the attack on the city wasn’t Kinetic Kitty, most likely a newer Villain trying to make a name for themselves in history with the way fireballs were raining hell on the runways.

He had seen a golden suit straining under a plane that had caught fire and lowering it over whatever around them wasn’t up in blazing hellfire. Logically, he’ll be fine, but that doesn’t stop Taehyung from biting his nails raw until he has him back safe and sound in his arms.

“Are you still going to his birthday?” He knows the answer, but needs to be distracted before his mind can jump to all the possibilities where Golden Boy doesn’t come back out alive.

“Of course! The little baby is growing up,” Jimin giggles and swings himself around one of the shafts in his lair. He always looks more like a dancer when he’s in a good mood. It makes Taehyung smile. “God, I haven’t seen him in years . Do you think he’ll still remember me?”

“He was seventeen, not seven. Obviously he remembers you,” Taehyung scoffs, but Jimin can hear the love in it, “You don’t have to get him anything. He keeps insisting he’d rather not have presents.”

“Lame. If you ever miss one of my birthday presents, I swear I’ll shave that pretty little head of yours, darling.”

“Charming,” It sounds convincing but he knows the villain probably wouldn’t do it, only throw a tantrum and whine about how Taehyung doesn’t love him anymore. Although, that’s more than he can say for the last super villain who forgot Jimin’s birthday. He woke up to everything he owned on fire, a packed suitcase and a one-way ticket to Rio. Taehyung hears he’s doing pretty well now.

“So how’s the sex life with Golden dick?” Jimin pulls the lollipop out of his lips with a pop as he holds himself on the pole with only his thighs. He hangs himself upside down, “Did you figure out how he does the tongue thing?”

“Fucking no and I don’t think I ever will,” The tongue thing will forever remain one of the world's greatest mysteries, up there with the Bermuda triangle and why chicken fingers exist when chickens don’t have fingers. “But I…” Taehyung trails off, trying to find right words.

Jimin sits up immediately, “Shit, did he lose his touch? Are you guys not fucking four times a day anymore? Did he kink shame you?”

“No, no and he did not kink shame me,” Taehyung glares and Jimin relaxes, sucking the pink lollipop back into his mouth. They’ve had long conversations about all the darkest things Taehyung liked having done to him in bed, and how, surprisingly, Jungkook fit right in. Probably because he would do anything for Taehyung, and they all knew it.

He shrugs, “Wouldn’t blame him.” Taehyung glares some more but there’s no venom behind it. He’s too soft for Jimin; he would probably let him get away with murder. (Well, Jimin has gotten away with murder… but he would let him get away with more murder).

“No… I mean, you know how I like it, and you know I love him fucking me into the mattress but–”

“Awww, you want him to fuck you with love?” Jimin coos while he jumps off the pole and towards Taehyung to ruffle his hair.

“Well–“

“Oh, oh, ” Jimin’s hand freezes, “You want to fuck Golden Boy. With love.”

Taehyung’s face flames red, “No– Yes? Stop reading my mind. It’s creepy. I just, I don’t know, I want to take care of him.”

“For the thousandth time I can’t read minds, loser. And I get it, I get it, you’re still a slut, but his heart eyes are making you feel things,” Jimin pats his cheek like he’s comforting a child and Taehyung pouts, “You could just ask him, Taebaby, it’s not a big deal. You know he’d say yes.”

“For the thousandth time I still don’t believe you. And no, I don’t, it’s embarrassing,” Taehyung drops his head back with an over dramatic sigh, giving up, “How would you know? You’ll be a devout bottom till the day you die, Kitty.”

Jimin starts to walk away, pretending to be distracted, swinging his hips and not looking Taehyung in the eyes, “I’ve fucked someone before.”

“What?” Taehyung’s head snaps back up and he eyes Jimin dubiously.

“What?” Jimin swings slowly around the pole to look at him with feigned innocence, “He was pretty. And flexible.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck, chim chim?”

“I don’t tell you everything ,” Jimin rolls his head down on the last word, as if holding himself up is exhausting.

“Um, yes. Yes you do,” Taehyung has too many voice recordings of Jimin’s thoughts on the toilet and a full detailed description of the veins on Yoongi’s dick to prove his point. Another text page of how Yoongi’s nose twitches when he sleeps and three years of helping Jimin pick which nudes to send out to the world.

“Okay. Valid.”

“Spill.”

Jimin makes a disgruntled sound, “But this is different, Tae. This is something I don’t even want to tell myself. I just want to forget it ever happened, to be perfectly honest.”

“The sex or mister flexible and pretty?”

“The flexible and pretty asshole,” Jimin groans, “The sex was great. Too great. So disgustingly great, fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” Taehyung nods in agreement. Best friend code.

Taehyung lets it go, knowing Jimin will tell him everything one day. Also because of the best friend code. They get distracted by another topic in a heartbeat and lose at least an hour. Taehyung is secretly grateful that Jimin still kidnaps him, because it’s one of the only good excuses for skipping work every other day. Yeah, sorry sir, I was held hostage up by the super villain that made the President cry for his mommy on national television last year, I couldn’t get back to work. Jimin secretly knows this.

He doesn’t need to tie him up anymore. They’ve grown accustomed to lounging around and gossiping until Golden Boy comes to save him. Jimin will drown them in innuendos before flinging himself out the window. When he hears the glass window breaking, his heart stutters.

Until he turns his head and sees that it’s not Golden Boy at all.

It’s Hope, sweating and exhausted. Taehyung immediately expects the worst. It’s probably not true but Jungkook is one of the only things in life that make his emotions override his logic and mind.

When Hope sees the fear in his eyes he smiles warmly, “Don’t worry, Golden Boy is held up at the airport helping all of the planes land without a runway. He’ll probably be needed for a while so he asked me to come get you,” He coughs, “Uh, save you.”

Taehyung breathes out and smiles at the hero, “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, kid,” His signature heart-shaped smile is radiating on his face. Taehyung wonders if it’s a superhero thing to have perfect smiles that could rival the sun, but he supposes Seoul is just lucky. When he notices Jimin in the room his smile drops into a sneer, “Kitty.”

“Hope,” Jimin answers, with just as much disdain laced in his voice. He’s standing perfectly still, for once, and Taehyung wonders when he got the mask back on his face.

“Let’s get out of here, Taehyung.”

Taehyung stands and starts walking with Hope towards the exit. Jimin doesn’t do anything or pretend to fight for him, he only glares silently at Hopes back until they leave. Taehyung feels, embarrassingly, like he’s a child getting picked up from daycare instead of a reporter being held hostage.

 

They take the elevator instead of leaping out of the window for obvious reasons. Hope easily answers all of Taehyung’s questions about the airport attacks with a warm smile. Taehyung remembers why he likes him so much. He wonders if Kitty acts like a brat with every hero that he hasn’t known since childhood. Hope has an aura around him that makes every room he walks into a little brighter. The whole city knows that he’s not invincible but he would give up his life for a total stranger in a heartbeat. You’d have to be crazy not to like him. Or a super villain.

It makes sense that Jimin is both.

Hope doesn’t wear a mask but for some reason a camera can never quite capture him. There’s always a white light around him as if his image is burning through the photograph. There have been records of people recognizing him on the street after he saved their lives and he always shoots them a knowing smile and a wink before disappearing. No one has figured out what he does for work or who he really is. Either he’s good at hiding or people love him too much to push it. Taehyung is curious if Jungkook knows him.

“Can I ask,” Taehyung interrupts halfway through Hope’s description of Amber and Krystal, who he says are behind the attacks. Krystal with her ability to move earth and Amber setting it on fire as it rains down. “How well do you know Golden Boy?”

Hope pauses for a moment, “Pretty well. He’s told me about you. A lot… I’m uh, happy he has someone good in his life. For once.”

Taehyung nods, biting his lip, “Well, his birthday is tomorrow and you’re welcome to come to dinner,” He pulls out a sheet of paper from his notebook and begins to write his apartment address and a time, “He’d be happy if you came.”

The smile on Hopes faces changes into something more gentle and real, “I– yeah, I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

 

 

A knock on the door drags Taehyung’s attention away from his grueling job of watching Jin cook and not being allowed to touch any of it. He hops off the counter and wipes his hands on a towel, still greasy from picking stolen food when the chef’s not looking.

When he swings open the door, Jimin is in his face in a heartbeat, “Taetae! Where’s my precious birthday boy?” He’s carrying two bottles of vodka and wearing leather pants, a revealing satin blouse and a choker that makes his cat suit look innocent.

“He’s brooding outside, darling, I’ll drag him in for you,” He kisses Jimin on the cheek and they make way for Yoongi. He shuffles in after holding a bundle of fur in his arms and attempting to look un-amused while it licks his fingers.

“Is that… a puppy? What the fuck, Jimin?” Of course Taehyung knows well enough not to blame Yoongi, whose only crime was letting Jimin charm him into carrying the thing.

“Look, I know you said no presents, but Jungkookie’s always wanted a puppy– isn’t it cute?” Jimin pouts with huge pleading eyes. The puppy also has huge pleading eyes. Taehyung knows he’s going to lose.

“I thought the vodka was the present?”

“What these?” He holds up the vodka, as if remembering it existed, “Honey, these are for me.”

“Fine, fine, just– where is it going to live?” He tries to keep his glare firm but the puppy… the fucking puppy. How could he glare at a puppy?

“Your place, Taebaby,” Jimin giggles and pushes past him to the kitchen, opening one of the bottles with his teeth. Yoongi dumps the puppy unceremoniously into Taehyung’s arms and follows his boyfriend, muttering ‘ hey’ and ‘ don’t call her ‘it,’ she deserves better’.

Taehyung tries and fails to not smile. The puppy, curling sleepily in his arms, has brown and white fur growing too big for her tiny body and a big golden bow around her neck. Every once and a while she tries to bark but the only sound that comes out is a little squeak. Taehyung squeaks too, his whole body shaken by the cuteness.

Namjoon is unlucky enough to walk in right after and Taehyung passes the puppy over with a hasty greeting, yelling over his shoulder to find Jin in the kitchen and get the dog some water. Taehyung watches him follow the order, confused and a little unbalanced, and slides open the balcony doors.

Jungkook is standing still, eyes watching the city skyline intently and probably seeing more than Taehyung could with binoculars. He takes his place next to him and rests his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder.

“How are you doing, Kookie?”

“Good. I think,” He chuckles softly and dips his head to look at Taehyung, “I don’t really know.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook answers breathlessly. Taehyung leans in to kiss his temple and pull him in close, “But I want to do this.”

“I know you do, baby. If you didn’t I wouldn’t have thrown you a party,” Taehyung plays with the boys hair as he talks, feeling the tension in Jungkook melt away under his touches, “It’s ok to be nervous. Just remember the only person you have to convince you’re good enough is yourself.”

A smile breaks through Jungkook’s resolve and Taehyung smiles twice as wide. The bubble of happiness is instantly contagious, “I’ll be inside, come find me when you’re ready.”

Jungkook nods. Before he can pull away the boy grabs his hand and pauses, “Tae, thank you. For everything.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to say anymore. Taehyung understands. The words I love you are burning on his tongue and he can’t seem to push them back down again. Instead he swallows hard and tells him Jimin has a surprise inside. He slips back through the sliding glass doors.

Time passes in a warm haze of love and joy. Namjoon follows Jin around the kitchen like a love sick preteen, leaving a path of destruction in his wake. Jin is less obvious, but only to those who don’t know him. He frets over the grease stains all over Namjoon’s clothes from his mechanics and clears through Taehyung’s vinegar and baking soda stash to wash them out. Every time the clumsy inventor picks up something sharper than a spoon, Jin is there to chide him and pry it out of his hands.

Even Taehyung's spork (he swears it’s ironic, nobody believes him) is off limits.

Jungkook is curled up on the couch with his new puppy in his lap, pouncing up to lick his face, already as obviously in love with Golden Boy as Taehyung is. Jimin and Yoongi are sitting on either side of him, Jimin cooing and teasing him to drag out the darkest blush and Yoongi watching with a rare smile. They name her Minnie, and Jimin is cleverly manipulative to make it feel like it was their idea.

Taehyung sits on the side of the room, observing happily. Jungkook, smiling and surrounded by a new family, is a beautiful sight after weeks of slow and painful recovery. He burns the image onto the inside of his mind to always hold close.

A knock sounds at the door. Jungkook looks up, confused and curious. Taehyung drags himself up to answer it and he follows behind, gently passing the puppy to Yoongi.

Hope is on the other side, smiling and looking completely different in comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. He hugs Jungkook first, who gets over the initial surprise quickly to hug him back. The boy looks so genuinely excited that Taehyung can’t help but laugh.

“I know you don’t like gifts so here,” He hands Jungkook what looks like a handwritten letter, “Read it when you have time, I guess.”

“You came!” Taehyung hugs him and pulls him into the apartment.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” He smiles brightly in return, then adds jokingly “I’m Hoseok. Nice to finally meet you.”

Before anyone can get settled Yoongi stands abruptly from the couch, features frozen in shock, “Hoseok?”

“Yoongi?” Hoseok walks closer to be sure of what he’s seeing and lights up with glee.

“Holy shit… Holy shit. ” They laugh and hug like they hadn’t seen each other in a lifetime, and it’s a shock to everyone when Yoongi is the one smiling wider than the actual sunshine, “Jimin this is Hoseok, the one on the mixtape, remember? We used to live together in uni,” He laughs breathlessly as if he still can’t believe it then drags Jimin off the couch, “Hobi, this is Jimin, my boyfriend.”

Jimin glares. Hoseok’s face goes from smiling to confused and then quickly drops into unimpressed recognition, “Oh, it’s you.”

Jimin sneers back, “Hope.”

“Hope?” A crease forms in Yoongi’s brows, “Hope as in the superhero?”

Hoseok laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Surprise…”

A still silence falls over the room, waiting for a reaction. Yoongi finally breaks it with a soft huff, “Good for you, Hobi. I hope you’re happy.”

The smile relights on Hoseok’s face, “I am. Mostly. Lonely sometimes.” Taehyung’s heart softens as he watches them rekindle a special kind of friendship, warm and honest. They draw into conversation about the good old days, catching up and, ‘So that’s why I never saw you after that nuclear vat incident…’

Jimin stands fuming, unnoticed, next to Yoongi. Eventually he snaps and goes straight for Taehyung, dragging him into the kitchen to search for the Vodka.

“Who pissed in your cheerios?”

“Ew, Taehyung. And nobody,” He pours himself a vodka soda that’s about 90% more vodka than it needs to be, “He’s just terrible.”

“Coming from you, it probably means he’s a pretty good person,” Taehyung raises his brow, amused. He’s never seen Jimin this worked up before, even all the times he and Yoongi we’re dancing around each other it was more of a playful frustration. This is different. This is interesting.

Taehyung reaches for the champagne and a flute glass, pouring himself a generous amount. They’ll probably be here a while.

“Yeah. A goodie-fucking-two-shoes. You should watch out for those,” Jimin downs half his drink with a pouty scowl, looking like a kitten that got its toy taken away.

“Should I?”

“Yes! They’re pretentious and sunshiny and pure; it’s sickening,” He grumbles, “He’s probably hiding something like he bludgeoned his Grandmother to death or he saves puppies from the Han River just to kick them.” Taehyung glances over to the Living room where Hoseok is laughing happily on the couch, letting the new little puppy lick his whole face. He catches Jungkook’s eyes, obviously listening with his super hearing. He raises his brow in a silent question: what’s going on?

Taehyung throws an exaggerated shrug back. He loses his breath for a moment when Jungkook giggles across the room.

“So. His problem is that he’s too good and you’re suspicious.”

“No! …Yes?” Jimin is staring intently as his glass of vodka soda, sans the soda.

Taehyung watches how Jimin’s cheeks heat up and something clicks, “Oh my god-“

“Ok we might have made out a couple times and… things… happened but-“

“Oh my god- He’s Mr. flexible and pretty? Isn’t he?” Taehyung knows he’s right when Jimin’s eyes widen ridiculously large and he looks over to the other room to make sure no one's listening, “Christian Chim Park. Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this?

“Because! I told you I was trying to forget it ever happened! It- it would have never worked and he-“ Jimin swallows the second half of his drink in one swig, “Just forget it.”

He pours himself an upgraded glass of 99% vodka. The pout on his face is pretty normal, but Taehyung can tell how sullen he is from the way his movements look lethargic. When he sits down on a stool he doesn’t have his usual bounce and teasing fluidity, and it breaks his heart a little bit. Taehyung figures he needs a best friend hug rather than an interrogation. He pulls himself up to the counter so he can wrap his arms around him and they cuddle on the kitchen stools until diner is cooked. Jin rushes back in to take the chicken out.

 

 

Dinner is warm and loud. Jin and Taehyung are on either side of Jungkook, coddling him endlessly. Yoongi is putting more food on the birthday boy’s plate when he thinks no one will notice (they all do). Namjoon is sitting next to Jin, and a couple times he gets so lost in thought staring at him that he chokes on the chicken (they all notice that too). Jimin and Hoseok are next to Yoongi, battling for his attention but ironically paying more attention to each other, one upping the other with snide remarks and accidentally feeling up Yoongi as they use him to pull closer in the arguments. Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind.

“Look, you can’t blow up a centuries old building just because you don’t like how it fits with the aesthetic of the street,” Hoseok bites with his arms crossed, only relaxing them to put petty air quotes around the word ‘aesthetic’.

“Why the fuck not? Material worth is nothing, we all die anyway, and I just didn’t want to die in a world where that eye sore still existed,” Jimin drawls easily, like it’s obvious, “I’m proactive.”

“But its history! It’s important to our culture!”

“Bitch, I’m important to our culture.”

Hoseok groans and drops his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, “Oh my god, oh my god.

 

Everyone except Yoongi, Jungkook and Taehyung are going from tastefully tipsy to the kind of wasted you only experience once a year, when you wake up lying face down in someone else’s bathroom, with no memory, your hand in an empty jar of Nutella and a couple of sexts from your high school ex.

Eventually, dirty dishes pile up in the kitchen and everyone sprawls out on the couches nursing their drinks. The window is open with cool air and the sounds from the city drifting in, curtains billowing. Jungkook is curled into Taehyung's side, giggling at Jin’s terrible jokes and the genuine pain in Yoongi’s eyes every time he comes up with another pun. He’s happy. The room is wrapped in a warm bubble and just knowing that Jungkook is really enjoying himself, surrounded by people, makes him so fucking proud. He feels it, that thing all over again where his whole world narrows down to the boy in his arms and how much he would do for him. Holy shit he’s so in love.

 

Everyone’s keeping an eye on the situation with Jimin and Hoseok, but nobody’s actually worried. The dinner filled with accidentally groping Yoongi to get closer to each other confirmed it was just a ridiculous amount of misdirected and repressed sexual tension. Just what every good birthday party needs.

Jimin has moved on from glasses and is now drinking straight from the clear vodka bottle. Hoseok’s on the same page with the dent he’s put in Taehyung's white wine collection. The enthusiasm and exhibitionism is back in Jimin's movements, which eases everyone's minds, but he’s as bad-temperedly catty as ever.

He crawls over Yoongi’s lap to get closer, ass in the air that Hoseok seems to have a hard time not focusing on, and points an unsteady finger at him, “Stay away from Yoongi.”

He scoffs, “I’m not a home wrecker, but it’s nice that you know he’s too good for you.”

Jimin gets closer, a determined glare on his face that gives even the new puppy some competition for cuteness, and gets close enough for their breaths to entwine. He forgets what he was about to say.

When Yoongi detaches himself up to get another drink, neither pay it much notice. Taehyung kisses Jungkook on the forehead, distracting him from listening to Namjoon explain the intricacies of death rays (how the name sucks because what kind of a death ray is it – an antimatter ray, a proton neutralizer, a shotgun that you labeled ‘death ray’ with a sticky note for effect? Namjoon is getting himself more and more worked up and Jungkook is really trying to keep up), and he detangles himself to follow.

Yoongi gets another beer from the fridge and looks up to find Taehyung's expectant gaze bearing down on him, “They seem to think they’re still fighting over you.”

“Yeah,” He raises a brow, waiting.

“And yet…” Taehyung looks over at the pair on the couch; they seem to be livid to be in the same room, but inching slowly closer.

“And yet.”

“You wouldn’t cheat. Jimin knows that. You wouldn’t leave him for Hoseok. Literally the only way I see this moving forward is if Jimin wants it to.”

“Too perceptive for your own damn good, Tae,” Yoongi cracks open the can and takes a sip, leaning back, figuring he won’t be allowed to leave until Taehyung’s done with him.

“Would you be okay with that?”

“As long as–“

“As long as it’s what Jimin wants.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“When it comes to him. But this wouldn’t be just sex.”

“No. Jimin falls in love like petals fall off a flower,” Often. Softly. Beautifully. Super Villain or not he’s Jimin first, and his heart is one that everyone in the apartment would protect no matter the cost.

“And you?”

“I was in love with Hoseok for four years.”

Taehyung nods, looking back at the supervillain and superhero in a new light. They’re still seething and spitting arguments, but Jimin looks vulnerable. Hoseok looks like he’s physically restraining himself from wrapping Jimin in his arms and telling him everything will be ok.

“What’s the hold up then - where’s the romancing and the kiss kiss fall in love?”

Yoongi lets the moment stretch out, watching the two in the other room, and takes a slow sip. Taehyung waits. Eventually he looks back, “They tried before. Not long. It ended with both of them furious and heartbroken. As you could probably tell, they don’t agree on many things.”

“Oh.”

“Jimin said it was just sex but,” Yoongi gets up from where he was leaning and downs the rest of his beer, “That’s bullshit.”

“Do you think it’ll work?”

“I don’t know, Tae,” Yoongi gets another can from the fridge to take back, “I don’t know.”

Taehyung nods. They’ll figure it out, he knows they will. Whatever is going on between them is more than lust, and it’s more than whatever they went through before. They have Yoongi now, a reason to be honest about what they feel. They have history. They have the fact that they’ve never really been able to forget each other. Taehyung is usually the most cynical in the room, but he’s hopeful.

“Hey can I smoke in here?” Yoongi shuffles his pocket and Taehyung knows he’s got weed. He’s never been all that big of a drinker. Taehyung nods easily.

Yoongi walks back out, kissing Jimin on the forehead. As soon as he sits, Jimin is back on his lap, grounded and safe, and still focusing all his attention on Hoseok. Taehyung looks away when Jimin attaches his lips to Yoongi’s, making out with him loudly and with all the class of a b-grade porn star. Hoseok watches, conflicted and biting his lip, because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s trying really hard to not watch Yoongi either, Taehyung notices quickly.

Yoongi’s pretty chill about the whole thing, letting all the pieces fall where Jimin can play with them. Taehyung thinks it’s sickening (he thinks it’s so fucking sweet).

Jungkook is also chewing on his lip, slightly frowning. Super hearing.

Taehyung whispers, “They’ll be okay,” and on the other side of the room Jungkook looks up at him, always surprised with how intuitive Taehyung is, “Take me to the roof, Golden Boy.”

He takes out a champagne bottle he was saving from the fridge and two flute glasses. When he makes his way to the balcony, Jungkook is waiting to whisk him away.

 

 

The Seoul skyline has an orange glow hanging over it. It’s a rare peaceful night, no mayhem or destruction. There’s a couple of black spots near the airport and around them, where the aftermath of the day has left streetlamps and houses destroyed. Taehyung loves it, the stars are always so much more visible.

They sit on the thick cement railing overlooking the city. Its precarious, but a fear of heights is something you get over pretty quick when dating a superhero like Golden Boy. Taehyung feels nervous for the first time since they met. He’s been in love before, once or twice, but it was the kind of love that feels so right in the moment and only in the moment. The kind of love without a future, without unspoken promises that you would walk through hell for the other, without a completely selfless need to make the other happy.

This, right now, is making him question if he’s ever actually felt love before. True love. Is that what this is? If superheroes could exist, why not soul mates? Why not something more than a just mix of chemical reactions and emotion? His mind is spinning without much warning, he’s breathless and fucking terrified. Whatever he feels is something so real he can almost reach out and touch it, and he’s not going to let it go for the rest of his life once he has it in his hands. But is he good enough? Is it selfish of him to want to keep Jungkook by his side till they’re old and playing bridge with Namjoon and Jin, talking about the good old days? (Or trying to make sure Jimin’s not cheating in Bingo).

But Jungkook deserves the whole fucking world. If Taehyung ever stopped being enough for him, he’d let the hero go in an instant to give him another chance at happiness. Even if it slowly killed him.

It scares the shit out of him.

And then there’s an arm around his shoulders and a face nuzzling his neck. Warm, soft and silent. It pulls him back into the moment, to a place where he can breath again. After a moment, he chuckles, hands shaking slightly when he picks up the champagne and pops the cork off. It propels itself of the side of the building into the darkness, but Jungkook can probably still sense exactly where it is as it falls.

“Sorry, I’m a fucking mess.”

“You’re my mess,” Jungkook senses the relaxed change and pulls him in closer to press a kiss to his forehead, “What’s happening up there?”

Taehyung leans into his side, pouring the champagne into the two glasses and holding one out for Jungkook. He swallows about half of it for some liquid courage.

“I think I love you more than I’ll ever know how to handle,” Taehyung breathes out, feeling Jungkook tense against him, “I love you so much that it scares me.”

Jungkook is quiet, “Why does it scare you?”

Taehyung forces himself to look up, look him in the eyes; “I would do anything for you, Jungkook. Anything.”

There are unspoken words lingering between them. The power. The trust. The fear of living your life with your heart in someone else’s hands.

The champagne glass is crushed in Jungkook's usually steady hands, shattering the tense air, “Sorry! I– fuck, you’re bleeding– I didn’t…” He trails off.

Taehyung's thumb has a small cut, tingling more than stinging. He raises it to his lips slowly to sooth it in his mouth, watching the other. He’s okay, he’s fine, but Jungkook’s eyes are watering and he doesn’t think it’s because of the broken glass.

Jungkook pulls the hand back down to look at the cut between them, so small it’s barely noticeable.

He stares at it, not brave enough to look anywhere else, “It scares me too. How much I love you,” Jungkook finally lets out. Taehyung places his own flute glass behind him to cradle Jungkook’s wide eyed face in his hand, “If anything ever happened to you I– fuck Tae– I don’t know what I’d do.”

Taehyungs breath stutters quietly, “I can’t promise nothing will happen to me,” They move closer like planets caught in each others gravity, “But I can promise that as long as there’s breath in my lungs, I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours.”

The tears fall more freely from Jungkook’s eyes instead of subsiding. When Taehyung kisses him, it’s salty and desperate but there’s no rush. His fingertips trail over Jungkook's neck with the promise of forever, and he shivers, always so fucking sensitive when he’s not in control. Taehyung can taste the chaos in his mind distilling into the only thing important on his lips: love. He loves Jungkook for everything he is and everything he will be, through any amount of shit that they’ll go through, he’s found his person.

They kiss lazily, wrapped together, only breaking apart to move closer for a better awkward cuddling angle. It’s not easy when they’re legs are dangling off a 60 floor building. They talk in hushed voices, relaxing in the yawning silences as they watch over their city with a familiar kind of wonder. He can feel when Jungkook gets tired, when his sentences don't quite end the way he planned and his hands get a little more desperate, clingy, in their grip around Taehyung.

“Take me to bed, birthday boy,” Taehyung hums against his lips.

Gently, as if he were a feather, Jungkook sinks below the stars to the familiar apartment balcony. There are plants lining all of it that Taehyung always wanted but could never keep alive for more than a week. Jungkook never lets them die.

Inside, they tread lightly through the dim living room of tired bodies. Jin and Namjoon are passed out on the love seat, with Namjoon’s arms clumsily tangled over him and Jin’s lips at his temple. Yoongi and Hoseok are awake, talking softly and passing the Joint over Jimin, sleeping and wedged in the middle. Surprisingly, or not at all, he’s curled closely into Hoseok’s side, clinging as if he’s afraid to let go. Hoseok is looking down at him with a vulnerable mixture of fear and love. Yoongi is watching both of them with a relaxed small smile that he can’t push down.

 

Taehyung and Jungkook don’t go to sleep for a long time. They talk, cuddling suffocatingly close, until their eyes start to droop on their own and the early morning light lifts the darkness. Something feels different, the promises weigh heavier, but there’s a light of bravery keeping them in the clouds. Whatever they go through, not even all the galaxies and stars could keep him away from the boy in his arms. Taehyung feels like another layer's unraveled between them, and a little blue thread of trust wrapping all the way around them and leading back to the boys heart. He knows he'll always take care of it.