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In between his fifth and sixth coffee, Taehyung realises that he may – maybe – just slightly, have a problem. The waitress who brings him his sixth coffee gives him a short, ‘We’re closing in fifteen minutes’, before walking off – a cloud of exhaustion surrounding her – and Taehyung realises that the Café is deserted save for him, his extraordinarily cluttered double table, and a boy leaning against the window, breath fogging up the glass. Taehyung gulps down his coffee, hitting his chest when it inevitably burns past his heart, before methodically putting all of his notes very very carefully into his bag (read: stuffing loose pieces of paper haphazardly into one of his numerous bag pockets). The boy by the window hasn’t moved by the time Taehyung brings all of his coffee cups to the counter, wanting to minimise the tired girl’s work. She smiles at him all bright and relieved and makes the effort worth it.

“Thank you for everything, Solji,” Taehyung says, shouldering his bag and shuffling from foot to foot in the faintly awkward way kind-of acquaintances do when they’re making conversation, “I’ll probably be here tomorrow.”

Solji nods at him before her focus shifts to slightly the side of Taehyung. “I hate to ask you this, but can you wake up that guy over there? He’s really grumpy, and I don’t want to deal with that right now.”

Taehyung approaches the sleeping boy cautiously and now that he is closer, he realises that the boy might actually be a man. Strangely nervous, he reaches out a cautious hand to prod at the boy-man’s shoulder and his heart sinks as he doesn’t wake up.

“Um—” He says, voice low, “Mister?”

The man doesn’t budge, gives no indication of having heard what Taehyung said other than a slight smacking of pouty lips which makes Taehyung realise that oh god this man is very attractive. He tries again to no avail and straightens, looking over to the counter for Solji only to notice that she’s disappeared. He runs a hand through his hair, what now? An idea striking him, he claps his hands together as loudly as possible. And then he watches in dismay as the man jumps so badly that he hits his head against the glass. It makes a loud sound.

“Shit!” Taehyung exclaims, hands hovering over the man. “Are you okay?”

“What the fuck?” The man hisses out, rubbing his head in pain. “What’d you do that for?”

The man is even more attractive awake, Taehyung realises with a jolt and skip of his heart. His eyes are smudged with a hint of dusk and his cheeks shimmer as he stands up, ignoring Taehyung’s proffered hand. He frowns at Taehyung, yet Taehyung can only stare at the man’s button nose.

“Cl—” Taehyung starts before cutting himself off and pointing at the clock hung on a far wall.

“Oh.” The man says. He looks curiously at Taehyung. “Do you work here, then?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “No.”

“Why the hell did you wake me up then?” The man asked, words slurring together slightly.

“Solji asked me to.” Taehyung stutters, the intensity of the man’s eyes getting to him. “And now you’re awake and I’m going to go. Goodnight, sleep well, love you.”

He turns tail and runs.

The stranger stares after him with wonder in his eyes.

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

 

Taehyung nonsensically avoids the Café for three days. He has work to do and the Café is where he’s able to be the most productive – the drawling crashes and bangs of the workers is the perfect soundtrack in addition to the general hubbub of customers. But he can’t go. He can’t ever set foot in the Café again. He’ll sooner die of mortification. He’ll also fail all of his end of year exams. But that’s a price Taehyung’s willing to pay. He can never risk running into that beautiful stranger ever again. He’s had to use his shared flat with Jimin to revise and Jimin probably thinks he’s being ridiculous.

“Taehyung, you’re being ridiculous.” Jimin says to him as he witnesses Taehyung scouring YouTube for ‘café sounds’ and bemoaning the fact that the sounds are not realistic enough.

“How?” Taehyung asks from where he’s lying on the floor.

Jimin gestures around Taehyung. “You’re a mess right now, you’re going to fail those exams and have to retake a year.”

“Jimin.” Taehyung says, reaching out to grasp at Jimin’s warm hands. “My brother. My soulmate. My eternal light. I said ‘I love you’ to him. I said ‘Sleep well’ to a man who just woke up from a nap. I said ‘Goodnight’ to the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life. I can never see him again, I’m humiliated.”

Jimin snorts and pulls away to put on a jumper. “Have fun with that.” He says and walks out the door, answering “I’m going on a date!” when Taehyung hollers after him.

Taehyung sits on the floor of the sitting room and thinks that this is it. This is his lowest point in life. He’s been abandoned by his friend and a stranger is the recipient of his virgin love. It cannot get worse than this.

Taehyung discovers five hours later that, yes, it can get worse than this. (Damn it.) He decided to brave going to the Café again after going (just a bit) stir-crazy in the cramped apartment. As soon as he steps into the Café, he sees him, the cause of all his suffering. Gulping a breath down, he elects to walk to the counter, hoping that the stranger was so sleep addled that he forgot everything that Taehyung had said as soon as he’d left. He gets his cinnamon coffee from a waiter that he only slightly knows before hastening to the opposite side of the Café from him.

As he is finally settling into a working mentality, a clearing of a throat right behind him startles Taehyung so much that his arm jerks and overturns his mug of coffee right onto his lap. Naturally, Taehyung shrieks, fanning frantically at his legs in the hope that it might cool down the burns undoubtedly forming on his thighs. A wrist grabs him and drags him to the toilets – pushing him into the room and following. Taehyung finds himself face to face with the handsome, beautiful, stunning, ethereal stranger.

“What the fuck?” He exclaims, hopping from leg to leg in pain. “Why did you kidnap me?”

The stranger stares at him for a beat before curtly saying, “Take off your trousers, you idiot.”

“Are you accosting me?”

The stranger reaches over and makes to undo the zipper of Taehyung’s jeans. Taehyung, in a state of absolute, mind-controlling gay panic, flails and hits at the stranger’s arms: “Go away, you seducer.”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re burning yourself.” The stranger presses aggressively and manages to unzip Taehyung’s trousers and pull them roughly down to rest at his ankles. Taehyung thinks he’s going to faint.

“What?” He stutters, the situation is completely alien to him.

“Coffee equals hot. Hot equals burns.” The stranger helpfully (not) spells out for him.

“You’re hot too though,” Taehyung blabbers – the gayTM overtaking his body momentarily to ruin his life forever, “and you didn’t burn me.”

The man gapes like a fish and a delicate flush weaves its way across his cheeks. “Well damn, lover-boy.” He says lowly, looking up at Taehyung. “You’re not all awkward.” He smirks slightly, “It’s nice to know.”

Let it be known that Taehyung wants to be smote by a benevolent god in that exact moment. His face heats to the point that it feels like it burns more than his attacked-by-coffee thighs. “What now?” Is all that manages to pass weakly through his lips.

The man looks amused. “Can I know your name now that your legs are very much exposed to me?”

Somehow, impossibly, Taehyung’s face colours more. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” He says reaching out a hand.

“Min Yoongi.” Yoongi says and they shake hands solemnly in a small bathroom with Taehyung’s trousers pulled down to his ankles.

Taehyung lets go of Min Yoongi’s hand as soon as he registers the ridiculous nature of the situation. “Oh my god.” He says. “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi looks at him carefully, “For what?”

Belatedly, Taehyung realises that Yoongi is shorter than him and he has the yellow-reds of autumn leaves coating his eyelids. “I—uh.” He trails off and looks down at his reddened thighs.

“I’m the one who undressed you, I should be apologising.” Yoongi says. “I don’t usually act so quickly on my desires.”

Taehyung gapes at Yoongi once more, taking in his lip-glossed lips and autumn leaf earrings and his brain can’t register what on good Earth Yoongi is saying. His earrings shimmer as Yoongi tilts his head. All that comes from his mouth is “take me out to dinner first at least.”

Yoongi’s smile widens and he takes out a permanent marker and, to Taehyung’s confusion, kneels down to scrawl what looks like numbers onto Taehyung’s left thigh. “I’ve got to go, lover-boy. Wait for your trousers to be less hot – don’t want you to burn yourself again.”

When Yoongi is at the door, he pauses, looking round to a non-verbal Taehyung and winks. “Nice underwear.”

Taehyung looks down and realises two things at once. One is that he’s wearing Pikachu patterned underwear and the other is that Min Yoongi wrote his number onto his left thigh, followed by ‘xxx call me?’

Taehyung thinks he’s died. This can’t be real.

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

Somehow, Taehyung makes it home with his coffee-stained trousers and all of his work in his bag after doing no work at all in the Café. Which in and of itself is highly unusual. Taehyung doesn’t even know how he got out of the toilets and definitely doesn’t know how he made it home. He’s dazed, and his head is light and airy, and he feels as though his legs are made of spiky Styrofoam – but that might be the light burns he has on his legs finally making their appearance known.

Jimin is on the sofa, hair tousled and lipstick marks on his neck, as Taehyung stumbles into the flat and leans against the door to close it.

“Oh, wow.” Jimin comments. “Are you dying?”

“I think I’m already dead.”

“That’s so inconvenient of you, I have so much to tell you.”

“I’ll come back as a ghost, I promise – there’s no way I’m getting out of this existence so easily.” Taehyung says faintly.

Jimin snorts out a laugh, rings glittering as he covers his mouth more out of habit than anything else. “What happened?”

Taehyung gestures to his trousers.

Jimin gives him a long-suffering look.

“Min Yoongi happened.” Taehyung says, and a blush coats his cheeks.

Ten minutes later (once Jimin has stopped laughing uproariously), Taehyung has told the whole story to Jimin. He knows that Jimin will tell him to text him—

“Text him.” Jimin says—

but Taehyung 100% in no way shape or form will text Yoongi. (Not yet at least – the red of his cheeks has yet to go down, and Taehyung doesn’t want to risk permanently making his cheeks be a bruising red.)

“You’re being ridiculous.” Jimin says – and Taehyung hears this on a daily basis, “Take a photo of it at least.”

Taehyung pulls down his trousers to take a photo and Jimin grabs at his thigh with scary strength.

“This is the most cringey thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He whispers in awe. “It’s amazing – puts my encounters to shame.”

Taehyung properly registers that Jimin has post-sex hair. “Who did you get with today?”

Jimin lets go of his leg and reaches for Taehyung’s phone to take a photo, thumb unlocking it with ease. “Kim Namjoon.” He says, angling the phone at Taehyung’s thigh. “He was—oh my god—just outstanding.”

“What number?” Jimin has a ranking system of his ‘bed companions’, as he jokingly calls his one-night stands (that are often one-noon stand but it doesn’t have the same ring to it) and zero was a terrible sex-partner and ten was mind-blowingly amazing.

“Ten out of ten,” Jimin says, the corners of his mouth lifting up, “would bang again.”

In the midst of wailing at Jimin’s cliché phrase, Taehyung realises that Jimin has been holding his phone for way too long. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jimin trills and Taehyung sees his fingers flying across the keyboard.

“Park Jimin what did you do?” Taehyung yelps, leaping for Jimin who ducks out the way and finds himself falling onto the floor and Taehyung’s phone slides to hide under the TV. Taehyung picks it up and feels his heart pound loudly and insistently in his chest. His messages are open and Jimin has sent three messages to a number that Taehyung has the slight (very big) suspicion that is Yoongi’s. He looks at the messages. He looks at Jimin. He looks at the messages. He looks at his thighs. He looks at Jimin. He looks at the messages. He lies down on the floor and yells.

“Honestly, I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” Jimin says, from his spot on the floor, rubbing his ass. “They’re just messages.”

“Just messages.” Taehyung says and looks at Jimin who looks back with not even a hint of regret in his devil eyes.

“Just messages.” Jimin says.

Taehyung’s thinks that he’s going to die. Or cry. Or cry then die. Or kill Jimin, then cry, then die.

 

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

 

TO: unknown number at 19:33

hi, beautiful, it’s Taehyung, you wrote your number on my thigh,

-

can i ask you out for dinner?

-

my friend is a chef, he can get us a discount…… if you wanna go anyway

 

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚

Two hours later, Taehyung is starting to relax a bit. Yoongi hasn’t replied, the messages haven’t been read and Taehyung has managed to hit Jimin hard on the arm. Maybe, hopefully, Yoongi wrote the wrong number – Taehyung doesn't think he can survive any more interactions with him. Jimin tells him he’s being silly, that Taehyung should jump at the opportunity of a ‘hot guy’ showing interest in Taehyung because god knows it doesn’t happen often. (Jimin gets another forming bruise on his arm for saying that.) But Taehyung is humiliated, each encounter with that man has been a disaster with one of them getting injured – he thinks it’s fate’s way of letting him know that it isn’t meant to be.

“Do you think I should ask Namjoon out again?” Jimin says. “Like on a date, not just to fuck?”

Taehyung nods absently, playing with his phone’s ringer, “Go for it.”

He can see Jimin look at him in his peripheral vision before he pulls him into a hug, strong arms centring Taehyung. “I’m sorry, TaeTae.” Jimin says. “I shouldn’t have texted Yoongi in your place.”

“It’s okay,” Taehyung says – and it is because normally Taehyung wouldn’t care that Jimin messages a potential date for him, Yoongi is just different to Taehyung, in a way that Jimin hasn’t quite realised yet.

“It’s not,” Jimin says, “you weren’t ready to message him, but I did it for you anyway.”

Taehyung looks at Jimin and smiles, kissing him on the forehead. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“I’m your only friend you’ve ever had.” Jimin complains. Taehyung laughs and reaches for the TV remote, putting on a TV show for them to watch whilst cuddling.

They stay watching TV until, an hour later, Taehyung realises that his research paper on Queer Theory won’t write itself and runs to scatter paper and pencils on the kitchen table. Jimin sets a cup of hot chocolate next to Taehyung as he works – painstakingly going through the criticisms and laudations of vital queer theorists. Jimin starts to cook, the simmering of the stove and soft shlick of knives creates a white noise that pulls Taehyung into a flurry of concentration.

He exits his ‘zone’, as he calls it, an unknown time later, shaking and pale from the exertion of working. Jimin is taking out what looks to be a cake from the oven and Taehyung drapes himself around him.

“Dinner’s in the fridge.” Jimin says and he has flour on his cheek which Taehyung leaves because Jimin looks like he did when they first met in university: lost, afraid, and painfully unorganised.

“Thank you,” Taehyung says, “It looks amazing.” He pauses, looking back at Jimin. “Has Namjoon not responded?”

Jimin shakes his head and his spontaneous cooking makes sense.

“I’m sorry, I hope he replies.” Taehyung says.

“He might just be busy with work.” Jimin looks unconvinced.

“That’s probably it!” Taehyung enthuses. “No one can stay away from you for long.”

Jimin smiles slightly before saying goodnight and disappearing in his room. Taehyung dawdles in the kitchen, sitting on the counter to eat his food and swinging his legs. He’s in a state of numb satisfaction – he’s done his work – and can’t bring himself to do anything other than focus on one task at a time. As he’s clearing up, he sees his phone on the coffee table and puts it in his pocket without glancing at the screen – the exhaustion clouding his brain of anything other than the faint ghost of writing across Taehyung’s retinas. Somehow, he finds himself tucked up in bed and, allowing the warmth of his covers to cocoon him, he drifts off to sleep peacefully.

He wakes up to his phone alarm going off across his room and spends a few hair-raising moments attempting to find it to turn it off. As he stabs a finger at the bright screen, what he sees on it makes his heart jump to his mouth. Yoongi had replied last night.

FROM: yoongi?!?!?!??!? at 01:24

of course i wrote my number on your thigh,,, why would i miss out on an opportunity to touch someone like you?? (someone too gorgeous for this world)

i’m acc surprised you texted,, you were such a deliciously shy shade of red – didn’t think you had it in you

of course i’d love to go to dinner with you, i can come pick you up at six tomorrow night, just send your address and i’ll be there, looking forward to it x myg

let me treat you, ik you offered but i wanna spend money on you.

Taehyung sends Yoongi his address as quickly as humanly possible – cheeks burning again in shame at how eager he is. He’s slept in until one in the afternoon and Jimin isn’t in the house – presumably at his contemporary dance lesson. So naturally, Taehyung lies down face down on his bed and yells – loudly.

And then he realises that he doesn’t know what to wear. He hasn’t been on a date since the end of high school. (And that was an experience he is eager to not repeat.)

So he does what is only natural and calls Jimin for help.

Two hours later, Jimin is standing in his doorway and staring at the huge pile of clothes that Taehyung is hiding under. He sighs and leaves the room. Taehyung wails at the betrayal from his cocoon of unsuitable clothing.

“Stop being a wimp.” Jimin says as he comes back in, “You’re going on a date, that’s good right?”

Taehyung nods, then pauses and shakes his head. “Jimin, I can’t be normal to him.”

Jimin flicks his nose gently. “Then don’t be normal, obviously.” He sets down a pile of clothes onto the bed. “Besides, the way you two have met isn’t a ‘normal’ situation either.”

“I guess.” Taehyung murmurs, kneading at the clothes in his hands until Jimin tugs them away from him.

“If he’s an arsehole about your fashion sense then fuck him, Taehyung.” Jimin says earnestly.

“That would be counter-productive though.” Taehyung teases.

Jimin laughs before dusting his hands of an invisible layer of dust. “Okay, let’s get you looking like you do usually.”

Taehyung smiles, delighted, at Jimin – who just understands him.

 

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

When the doorbell rings, Taehyung thinks he might throw up. Jimin wrestles him to the door, hissing ‘you’ll have a nice time, now go’ into his ear, before opening it for Taehyung and ducking behind it to watch through the peephole.

Yoongi looks even more stunning outside of the café setting. His cheeks glitter with highlight and eyes are carefully dusted in distracting orange glittery eyeshadow and his lips are a gentle pink.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, voice amused.

“Yeah, sorry.” Taehyung flushes once more and hopes the foundation he put on covers the embarrassed red in his cheeks.

It obviously doesn’t when Yoongi chuckles and reaches out a hand to grab Taehyung’s. “Still so shy I see, don’t worry, I won’t bite.” He pulls Taehyung out the door and whispers in his ear, “Unless you want me too.”

Taehyung. Just. Freezes. And his mind reboots but the meaning of Yoongi’s words – someone he’s only met twice – still do not sink in. So he does the only thing he can do in such a mortifying situation and opens his mouth.

“I think you’ll find, good sir,” he says and can hear Jimin facepalming on the other side of the door, “that you’re being too forward with me. Court me first and we’ll see about biting later.”

Yoongi stares at Taehyung and Taehyung thinks, I’ve completely scared him off.

“Cute,” he says, “I take it you study literature?” He doesn’t let go of Taehyung’s hand and pulls him along the corridor, murmuring “I’m sure your friend will close the door for you.”

Taehyung wants to die but he also wants to keep talking to Yoongi so he graciously decides not to die. “I do, is it that obvious?”

“Not at all,” Yoongi drawls, “Not when you speak like some character from a Shakespeare play. Which is refreshing actually.”

Taehyung scratches at his neck. “I do that when I’m nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” Yoongi asks, “Is it because, and I quote, you ‘love me’.”

Taehyung’s heart stutters, “It was one time, okay?” He exclaims.

Yoongi laughs and guides him to the parking lot. “I’m a music production student – masters actually.”

“Wah!” Taehyung says, amazed, “that’s really cool, have you released any songs?”

Yoongi shrugs slightly awkwardly, “I guess, it’s on my SoundCloud.”

“You have to let me listen, please Yoongi, please!” Taehyung enthuses.

Yoongi pauses, staring hard at Taehyung. The emotion in his eyes is undecipherable.

“What?” Taehyung asks.

“You’re just really attractive.” Yoongi says. “You make me want to be forward and sappy and I barely know you but I can tell you have a heart of gold.”

Taehyung’s mouth falls open. “Is that why you stripped me and wrote your name on my thigh?”

“Maybe.” Yoongi says, unlocking his car and ushering Taehyung into the driver’s seat. “Now let me treat you tonight, you can return the favour another time.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Taehyung giggles, “I love being treated.”

“I guess you must get that a lot,” Yoongi comments.

“Actually no,” Taehyung confesses, “A lot of people get turned off by my ‘Shakespeare language’ as you put it.”

“Slander.” Yoongi whispers. “Absolute slander.”

Taehyung feels his heart lift, ‘be still my beating heart,” he whispers to himself. If Yoongi hears him, he doesn’t show it, although that small fond smile playing on his lips gives away his thoughts.

The restaurant that Yoongi takes Taehyung to is very fancy to say the least. A valet takes Yoongi’s car for him and greets him by name. Taehyung looks around with wide eyes at all the people around him with dripping jewels and smart suits. He feels horribly underdressed in his loose trousers and light brown cardigan.

“I would have been happy going to Pizza Express, or even McDonalds.” Taehyung whispers.

“Let me treat you,” Yoongi whispers back. Taehyung notices that he too is underdressed in his ripped jeans and flannel shirt.

“Are you a sugar daddy?” Taehyung asks, needing to know.

Yoongi chokes out a laugh, holding his stomach as he bends over. “No,” he says, “I’m not. Unless you want me to be.”

“No!” Taehyung says with more force than necessary and flushing at the insinuation. “No, keep your money.”

“But I wanted to treat you tonight,” Yoongi says, “You won’t deny me that, will you?”

Yoongi smiles at a waiter who bows at him and leads them to their table, lit by candles and in a secluded area.

“I guess I can allow you to treat me tonight.” Taehyung acquiesces, smiling in grateful thanks to the waiter who handed him a menu. A few minutes later, he realises that there are no prices on it. “There’re no prices here.”

Yoongi nods, “That’s normal, don’t worry though, the cost isn’t a concern for me.”

Taehyung stares with wide eyes, “How rich are you?”

Yoongi shifts, “I don’t want to brag, but I’ve started a company that’s doing quite well right now.”

“I thought you were a student!” Taehyung exclaims.

“I am, I’m good at multitasking though.” Yoongi smiles.

Taehyung gapes for a while longer until Yoongi reaches over and shuts his mouth with his hand lightly pushing his jaw up. “You’ll catch flies.”

“What’s your company called?”

“Gloss Records.”

“No way!” Taehyung says. “Holy shit, that’s amazing.”

Yoongi grins at the amazement in Taehyung’s voice, “It’s a lot of work honestly, but I want to help change the world.”

“The fact that even I’ve heard of it means that you’re super amazing then.” Taehyung says with the vocabulary of a toddler.

“I’m nothing special,” Yoongi says, “but you, you’re captivating.”

Taehyung smiles brightly at Yoongi who clutches a hand to his chest, expressing awe. “You’re doing a good job of courting me.” He jokes, eyes curving.

“I’m glad.” Yoongi inclines his head, mimicking the slow, thoughtful gestures of the royals of old.

They both laugh, embarrassed at their actions but undeniably fond of the other.

“What do you want to eat?” Yoongi asks.

“I—” Taehyung brings his face closer to the menu, “I don’t actually know what these things are.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi says, voice taking on the accent of a posh, distinguished gentleman, “I believe the braised pork belly with parsnip pomme purée, gremolata and anchovy foam served with the velouté sauce and consommé is pretty self-explanatory, no?”

An old man walking past the table mutters, “Quite so.”

Taehyung holds his laughter in until the old man is out of hearing distance before bursting into deep laughter. He wipes the tears from his eyes and looks at Yoongi in a similar state, “I have no fucking idea what you just said.”

“I’ll let you into a secret,” Yoongi leans forward, “I have no idea either.”

The waiter, who had been approaching them, decides it would be best to serve a table where the guests are not hitting at the surface of it or lying across two chairs and turns around to go serve a nice old-rich family.

After eating the most delicious steak and chips of his life, Taehyung leans back in his chair, hands pressing against his still empty belly.

“Still hungry?” Yoongi guesses, “The downside of fine dining I’m afraid.”

“No wonder rich people are often thin,” Taehyung mutters, “They’re being robbed all the time of sustenance.”

Yoongi laughs and asks if Taehyung would like some dessert, “I recommend the Mille-feuille – it’s pretty authentic.”

Taehyung nods as though he understands everything (when in reality he understands nothing). “Yes, I understand French.”

“It means a thousand leaves, it’s relatively indulgent.”

“I.e. it’s not bite-sized.” Taehyung summarises.

Yoongi looks delighted, “It’s not bite-sized he repeats.”

*

They end up in a fried-chicken shop on their way back after Yoongi spent extortionate amounts of money in the posh restaurant. Taehyung is thrilled that he can treat Yoongi and they buy three boxes of chicken and chips to share.

Sitting in the park, Taehyung watches the light of the cars passing in the distance faintly illuminate Yoongi’s face slowly – brushing over his round cheeks and cute nose and plump lips to disappear, leaving Yoongi in the semi-gloom.

“Now this,” Taehyung says, mouth full of chicken, “is fine dining.”

“Is it now?” Yoongi asks. “I’ve clearly been doing it wrong for the past year then.”

“Is that how long you’ve been loaded?”

“Yeah, before the company took off and I found a business partner I didn’t have much.” Yoongi confesses, dipping a chip into ketchup. “I used to choose between food or my bus fare.”

“I’ve been there.” Taehyung says, then frowns, “I am there quite often – shit, how strong was that champagne?”

“Pretty strong.” Yoongi says, feeling the ebb and swell of drunken tomfoolery pulling at his common sense.

“Huh,” says Taehyung looking up at the sky.

They sit in silence for a bit and Taehyung thinks about how perfect their date has been and he vocalises that to Yoongi who nods in agreement and whispers, “I could spend all day at a laundromat with you and it would be a perfect day.”

As they’re walking back to the car, Taehyung sighs. “I wish I could see the stars,” he says, “at home I had plastic stars on my ceiling that glowed. I wish I still had them.”

“Stars are awesome.” Yoongi says by way of agreement.

*

They stand outside Taehyung’s flat for a long twenty minutes, talking about anything and everything that went through their brains. At long last, Taehyung gestures to the door.

“I should get back,” he said, “my roommate will be wondering where I got to.”

Yoongi makes a sound of disappointment and Taehyung grins at him, elated. “I’ll miss you,” Yoongi says, sappy and sweet, “I’ve had a great time, I’d like to do it again sometime?”

“I would love to.” Taehyung promises. Courage courses through his veins and he steps closer to Yoongi and presses his lips against his. A short, chaste kiss. “Sleep well, Yoongi.” He smiles and slips into his apartment and watches Yoongi through the keyhole smiling and touching at his lips before walking away, tired but with a spring of hope in his step.

Taehyung thinks back to the whole evening and it’s been perfect, perfect, perfect. He really likes Yoongi, the version of him that’s not sleep groggy or nervously (or defensively) flirtatious and removing his clothes. The version that’s gentle and kind and thinks about the meaning of the universe when he speaks and bestows wisdom upon Taehyung’s youthful head. He’s really nice.

Taehyung notices Jimin sleeping on the couch, presumably waiting up for him. He smiles and picks up his best friend to transfer him to his bed and then tucks him in carefully. “Sweet dreams, Jimine,” he whispers, “I have a lot to tell you tomorrow.”

He turns off the TV that was shoring a film adaptation of a popular romantic novel that Taehyung is only faintly aware of. He goes to bed with a contented sigh and thinks about the next day when he will, no doubt, be possessed by anxiety and nervousness at whether Yoongi really likes him. But for now, now he can sleep calmly and happily without a worry and only registering satisfaction.

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

Taehyung wakes disorientated and nursing a slight headache at the slightly ludicrous amounts of champagne he’d drunk the night before. The night before with Yoongi. No wonder all his constraints had disappeared, alcohol always made him more confident and sociable.

“Shit,” Taehyung realises, “I can never meet him again.” Yoongi will realise what an awkward buffoon he is

He finds himself in the kitchen, stress-baking. This is a habit that he’s picked up from Jimin that doesn’t help in dissipating stress but allows him to stock up on comfort food. He’s on his third batch of chocolate-chip and marshmallow-centred cookies when Jimin appears in the door way.

“Did it not go well?” He asks, hair fluffy and unstyled.

“It went too well,” Taehyung bemoans.

“Is that bad? I thought you liked him.” Jimin sits on the counter and bites into a cookie.

“He’s perfect. It was perfect. I was even adequate.” Taehyung says, putting the cookies in the oven and starting on a fourth batch.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I was drinking champagne!” Taehyung exclaims. “I’m not myself when I’m drinking alcohol – I was selling him a fake image of myself.”

“Champagne? Is he rich?” Jimin asks excited, “Are you going to get yourself a sugar daddy?”

“He’s pretty rich I think.” Taehyung says. “He’s the founder of Gloss Records. And no.”

Jimin gapes and then his brain seems to catch up with what else Taehyung had said and then slaps him across the head. “Stop doubting yourself.”

“It’s not that easy!” Taehyung says in protest and drops too many chocolate-chips into the batter.

Jimin sighs through his nose then slides off the counter to hug Taehyung. “You’re perfect just the way you are. If you’re shy and humble, that’s fine. If you’re confident and flirty that’s fine too. You can have different aspects to your personality, you don’t have to be perfect all the time. You know that right?”

Taehyung hugs Jimin back tightly, probably getting dough in his hair and breathes out. “It’s different to know and to feel.”

“Text him again, at least,” Jimin urges, “Meet up with him, don’t drink, and talk to him.”

“I will.” Taehyung says and partly believes himself.

Jimin hits at his arm proudly. “You’ll also be pleased to know that my guy from two days ago replied to me – he works as a producer so was busy on a song.”

“That’s great, go date the fuck out of him!” Taehyung enthuses.

“I intend to.” Jimin says. “I very much intend to.”

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

Taehyung musters up the courage to text Yoongi then throws his phone across the room. His heart always pounds in his chest whenever he texts him. He feels like he should have experienced this type of crush in his teenage years. But not everyone is as accepting as Yoongi so he never really dated. Therefore, all his teenage hormones have made a resurgence.

The doorbell rings and Taehyung assumes it’s Jimin who had gone out on a date with Namjoon. He answers it with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth and a towel wrapped round his waist.

Yoongi stares at him from where he stands at the door. Taehyung spits out his toothpaste at Yoongi’s face. He stares at Yoongi. Yoongi stares at him. Taehyung slams the door in his face.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Taehyung thinks he might cry. He runs to his room and pulls on some clothes.

He opens the front door again and Yoongi is just standing there.

“I am so sorry.” Taehyung pulls Yoongi in and into the bathroom. He grabs a towel. “It was reflex.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak and Taehyung shoves a towel in his face and scrubs. Yoongi’s arms flail up and push Taehyung away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Taehyung’s eyes smart and he looks down.

He hears a wheeze and looks up to see Yoongi bend over laughing. “You’re really something else, Kim Taehyung.” He looks up at Taehyung, eyes shining and gums showing in his smile. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Um, okay,” Taehyung says, “I acquiesce, you may kiss me.”

“God, you’re amazing.” Yoongi says. He leans closer to Taehyung until they’re so close that Yoongi is blurred. Taehyung’s heart is pounding and he feels as though he is floating. Yoongi smiles, breath warm against Taehyung’s skin. Taehyung is the one to bridge the gap, to go towards Yoongi until their lips are centimetres apart. Yoongi’s hand holds the back of Taehyung’s neck and Taehyung is safe and warm. He presses his lips gently against Taehyung’s. He stills – in awe – and then presses back against Yoongi’s lips. The kiss remains chaste, just a pressing of lips against lips but Taehyung has the sensation of being in the presence of an angel – a kissing angel called Min Yoongi. He opens his mouth into the kiss and Yoongi’s hands tighten where they are resting on his waist.

They lose track of time. Well, of conventional time at least. To Taehyung, the small pecks, open-mouthed kissing, and careful exploration of each other’s mouths are a lifetime of happiness and Yoongi is the centre of all that he knows. He finds himself and loses himself once more in Yoongi’s lips, in his little laugh when their teeth clash, at their awkward fumbling. Yoongi’s hands find themselves under Taehyung’s shirt, he strokes the plane of his chest until they rest over his nipples. Yoongi chuckles as Taehyung lets out a gasp when he flicks his nipples, unused to the sensation.

But before anything can go any further, Jimin clatters into the apartment and makes his way to the bathroom. Taehyung and Yoongi don’t have time to untangle themselves from each other when Jimin opens the door.

“Oh,” Jimin says, tone bright, “hi Taehyung and—” He pauses as though he has no idea who Yoongi is.

“Yoongi,” Yoongi supplies, cheeks flushing.

“We’ll move,” Taehyung says, trying to smooth down his hair.

Yoongi removes his hands from under Taehyung’s shirt as he gets up. “It’s nice to meet you, Jimin.” He attempts normality.

Jimin looks at Yoongi with a critical eye. “It is certainly a surprise to see you today, Taehyung hadn’t warned me.”

His formal tone makes Taehyung glare at Jimin – who meets his eyes and winks, that brat knows exactly what he’s doing – but Yoongi seems to blanch under his intense stare.

“We’re gonna go!” Taehyung announces and pulls Yoongi up from the floor.

“Hey, Yoongi,” Jimin says as they’re at the door, “I want to talk to you, can I text you sometime?”

Yoongi nods and audibly gulps. Taehyung pulls him from the bathroom shutting the door with a slam.

“He’s scary,” Yoongi says.

“No, he’s an idiot.” Taehyung replies, “He doesn’t have the capacity to be scary.”

“He was scary to me.” Yoongi mumbles.

Taehyung hugs Yoongi, cradling him in his chest. “You’re scarier,” he assures.

“I’m not scary!” Yoongi protests.

“You’re scary handsome.”

Yoongi flushes and Taehyung celebrates in his victory to getting Yoongi to be cutely nervous around him (it isn’t fair that Taehyung is the only one to have mishap after mishap).

“I’m going to go,” Yoongi says, “I just wanted to pop-around and see how you were. I didn’t expect to be… carried away.”

Once Taehyung has closed the front door after Yoongi gave him a dizzying kiss, Jimin emerges from the bathroom.

“So you kissed?” He says. Taehyung nods. “Does Yoongi know it was your first kiss?”

Taehyung looks at Jimin curiously, “Is it something that he should know?”

Jimin tuts, “Taehyung, a first kiss is sacred, it’s special.”

“It’s a kiss,” Taehyung grumbles, “as a virgin I can tell you that society places too much emphasis on ‘first times’, I don’t like the societal expectation that I should wait and make things ‘perfect’ for my first time. It makes me think that any experience after that doesn’t matter.”

“You sound like Namjoon,” Jimin says, “you’re right, too, I’m sorry.”

Taehyung goes to the kitchen to start cooking their dinner and Jimin watches him. They fall into a comfortable silence. The low lighting and soft hum of the oven creates a domestic scene and Taehyung feels his heart swell in affection for his friend. He hugs Jimin tightly and the latter reciprocates.

“Is rich boy a good kisser?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah, he really is,” Taehyung says, “I think – it felt good anyway.”

“I’m glad,” Jimin says, running a hand through Taehyung’s hair, “you deserve someone that makes you feel good.”

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

“What the hell?” Taehyung splutters out when Yoongi drives up to him in a Mercedes-Benz, lights ablaze in the chilly early morning.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, “get in?”

“Am I worthy?” Taehyung asks, moving to the passenger’s side with some apprehension.

“It’s just a mode of transport.”

“My mode of transport is a bike,” Taehyung says, “I found it abandoned.” He gets into the car and looks at the display panels with fascination.

“My company insist on me using this,” Yoongi says by way of explanation.

“Oh yes, the company which I founded makes me drive a superrich car,” Taehyung pinches his nose as he speaks. Yoongi swats at him with one hand and a pout adorns his face.

“Shut up!” He laughs, “It’s a real rich person problem.”

“Down with the establishment,” Taehyung comments, “why do rich people have to show their wealth. Donate it to the poor.”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung briefly with an unreadable expression forcing his eyebrows together. “You—” he says slowly— “don’t have a problem with me having money?”

Taehyung shrugs a bit, “I don’t think so? It’s just I have a difficult time connecting the dots as to why you like me—I mean I’m not rich—I just, I don’t feel like I have anything I could bring to this relationship.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment and the soft clicker of the turn signal is the only audible sound as he pulls in to an allocated stop point on the motorway. As the car stops, he removes his seat-belt and turns to face Taehyung. The lights of the passing cars leave flashing red hues on his skin and the half-light from the headlights of the cars piercing into the misty morning make his eyes glimmer. Taehyung doesn’t think Yoongi has ever looked more stunning.

“Okay, Taehyung,” Yoongi says, “I’m going to tell you a story, is that okay?”

Taehyung nods and his nail bites into the soft flesh of his thumb.

“Once upon a time,” Yoongi declares, “I fell asleep in a café, it was late and closing time. I’d been working on contract agreements so was snippy to the server. Instead of having her wake me up however, she asked a young boy – someone she accurately recognised as a kind soul – to help her out. This boy is warm and friendly but scared in social situations. He clapped his hands so loudly that I thought a gun was being shot. It woke me up and I fell into the window. Now, most people would have just apologised and left. But this beautiful boy, this angel of a human, points at a clock and then tells me, and I quote: ‘Goodnight, sleep well, love you’.” He pauses and looks at Taehyung with a soft expression. His eyelids shimmer with starlight and his cheeks are pink with blusher. “This boy told me ‘Goodnight’, that I should ‘sleep well’, and that he loved me. And you want to know what I thought?” Taehyung shakes his head resolutely. “I’ll tell you anyway.”

Yoongi reaches an arm out to trail his fingers against Taehyung’s cheek, pressing against the full warmth of them. “I thought: this boy is a keeper. He’s stunning even with his eyeliner smudged and with pen on his cheek. He’s cute and funny and talks like Shakespeare actors sometimes. He has a big heart and is trying to get through uni – I have no doubt you’ll graduate with a first. I don’t care about wealth and what I have in comparison to you. If you’ll have me I’ll pay for you now. But when you become a world-famous actor or writer or even business owner—I don’t know—then you can treat me and pay me back. I’m here for the long run, Kim Taehyung, and I know the world will be your oyster. We haven’t known each other long, and most of our encounters end in some sort of mishap, but I love that. And, as I get to know you and be with you, I know that I’ll love you too.”

Taehyung looks at Yoongi speechless and tears roll down his cheeks. “Yoongi,” he says, choked up and impossibly touched, “Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi whispers back, “Kim Taehyung you wonderful human.” He grumbles at himself slightly, “You’ve ruined my credibility as a known grump, Namjoon will never forgive me.”

“Namjoon?” Taehyung asks after giggling, “like Jimin’s Namjoon?”

“Wait,” Yoongi says, “Your Jimin is Namjoon’s Jimin? That small little sprite?”

“It’s a small world, huh?” Taehyung says and interlaces his fingers with Yoongi’s, “And by some fate, I’ve ended up with you.”

“Yah! Say it’s a good thing!” Yoongi presses.

“It’s the best thing,” Taehyung says, “but Yoongi, this is my first relationship.”

“So what?”

As they continue driving, Taehyung’s heart sings.

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆。˚ ✩
┊ ┊ ┊ ✫
┊ ┊ ✩
┊ ⊹ ✯

When they arrive at their destination, Taehyung is confused.

“Yoongi,” he says, “why did you bring me to a field?”

“Picnic,” Yoongi says, “to celebrate the spirit of Autumn.”

Taehyung smiles brightly and helps Yoongi take everything he’d packed out of the boot of the car. They set up a picnic blanket on the floor, covered with pillows and duvets and Yoongi even brought a portable heater to put under the duvet to warm them.

“I asked Jimin what your favourite food is.”

“I have a lot.”

“I know, I brought everything,” Yoongi starts laying out food in front of him.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung says, “marry me.”

“Be my boyfriend first.”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, smiling, “oh my god, yes.”

Yoongi smiles his wide gummy smile at Taehyung in happiness. They kiss whilst Yoongi has food in his hands and Taehyung can’t feel his own. Their lips are cold but a warmth blossoms in his heart at being so close to the man that he will one day (hopefully) marry.

“Now that we’re official,” Yoongi says, “let me feed you, I downloaded films on my laptop so we can watch them too.”

“You’re perfect.” Taehyung cups Yoongi’s face with his hands and leaves kisses all over his face. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Hours later, Taehyung is nursing a food child that he will have to bring up with all his other food children. The package in his coat pocket weighs down on him and he decides to go for it.

“Yoongi, I have something for you too.”

Yoongi looks at him with sleepy eyes but with a joy lighting him up from the inside out. Taehyung pulls out the package and hands it to Yoongi. He opens the box and stares down at the two rose gold rings with shock.

“They’re promise rings,” Taehyung says, “you can adjust the size and everything.”

Yoongi looks as though he is speechless and his eyes seem to shine with unspoken tears. “I—” is all he can say before he dissolves into messy sobs. Taehyung holds him close to him, kissing his forehead and stroking his hair. “I promise my whole self to you, Kim Taehyung,” he eventually says, “my good bits and my bad bits and my okay bits – I wanna experience this hard life with you.”

“I promise myself to you too,” Taehyung says, “all my awkwardness and inability to speak and anxiety and happiness and pettiness. You can experience it all with me. I’ll accept you and you’ll accept me.”

“I’ll accept you and you’ll accept me.” Yoongi agrees.

And they kiss beneath a darkening sky and it is perfect.

And two halves of a whole have met. And they will love each other.

゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚ ゜゚*☆*゚