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Taehyung feels silly— dressed in a nice shirt and slacks instead of his usual work attire, a far more casual affair due the nature of working with a multitude of art supplies. He peers at himself through the floor length mirror in the bathroom of the Guild— a community art studio he built to share with other local artists. Taehyung dreads the thought of having to walk past all his friends and colleges, knowing good and well he’s going to be subjected to questions and maybe even a few whistles of appreciation.
Though he can’t say the latter would really bother him.
But having to explain where he was going in the middle of the day dressed to the nines? He cringes at the very thought of it.
He cracks the bathroom door open just a little bit, peering into the large warehouse space with a careful eye. Thankfully Fridays were sparse and only a few other people were there, and seemingly very focused on their pieces as well.
Taehyung’s eyes map out the route of least interference from here to the front door, running through all the potential pitfalls as if he were cataloging a sports play. If he’s quick and keeps his eye on the door, he can make it without anyone noticing.
He take a deep breath before stepping out on his mission, gaze fixed on his path to the exit.
“Okay hottie alert!” a voice sounds out to his right not even five seconds into his excursion.
Taehyung groans, he should have known that he could never escape Jungkook’s ever-seeing eyes. He turns to his friend with an apprehensive smile, holding onto the last ray of hope that Jungkook didn’t already know where he was headed.
“Where are you going all slutted up like that?” Jungkook gestures to him with his paintbrush, swiveling slightly on his stool as he talks, “And don’t lie and say nowhere, because you never wear your good shoes to the studio.”
Taehyung glances down at vintage brown leather that had absolutely no business being around art supplies.
Yeah, there was no way out of this one.
He runs a nervous hand through his light brown hair, “To Epiphany,” he nearly mumbles, but Jungkook catches it anyway.
His eyes widening in realization, “Oh my god you finally said yes?!”
“He wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Taehyung sighs back as Jungkook fumbles for his phone in his pocket.
“I have to tell Jimin, he’s going to freak out!” Jungkook immediately texts his boyfriend, relaying Taehyung’s intention to visit Seokjin’s cafe, not to get a cup of coffee, but to go on a date.
A blind date.
Seokjin had been insufferable ever since he successfully coupled up Jungkook and Jimin, just gloating on and on about how he knew from the first moment he saw them in his cafe that the two were meant to be together.
You would think he was running a dating agency not serving lattes.
And begrudgingly Taehyung had to admit, the two of them were a good match. That was probably the only reason he let Seokjin swindle him into this charade at all.
“He says he’s excited for us to finally go on double dates together,” Jungkook relays with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Taehyung holds his hand out, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” he warns, “It’s a singular coffee date, and I might not even like the guy.”
Jungkook looks at him knowingly, not even deigning Taehyung with a single response in refutal. And he knows Jungkook’s right— Seokjin has a sixth sense for match making, he hasn’t missed yet.
And that very fact is what scares Taehyung the most.
Putting himself out there, being vulnerable and open to finding love— that wasn’t something that came easy to him. He had spent nearly a decade being single, it was something he was comfortable with, something he understood with very little effort now. Factoring in a whole new person was a stressful endeavor.
But as much as he feared the unknown of falling in love, he was far more afraid of the growing shadow of loneliness that had began creeping in on him as the months went by.
So Taehyung finally decided to bite the bullet and take Seokjin up on his offer to set him up. He prays he won’t regret it.
“Well don’t stand around here yapping with me when the love of your life is waiting for you down the block,” Jungkook teases him, wagging his eyebrows with exaggeration.
Taehyung groans and rolls his eyes. He knows Jungkook is messing with him, but that part of him also means what he says— believes that whoever ends up sitting across the table from Taehyung at Epiphany could very well be his soulmate. Just like Jimin was his.
Taehyung swallows nervously.
“Right,” he rolls his shoulders back and slides his sunglasses onto his face, looking carelessly chic— a carefully crafted aesthetic that he felt suited him well, “Wish me luck.”
His heart pounds in his chest as he turns to finally head out the door, Jungkook’s voice wishing him well echoes across the warehouse and chases him out.
It takes less than five minutes to make it to Epiphany, and ten seconds more to adjust his hair a bit in the reflective coffee shop window. And before Taehyung realizes it, the jingle of the cafe bell rings out and he steps inside.
He’s greeted by the whir of espresso machines and the scent of sweet dough before Seokjin makes his way over to him, a twinkle in his eye as he checks in with Taehyung one final time.
“You came,” Seokjin says with almost a hint of surprise, “I wasn’t sure if you would if I’m being honest.”
Taehyung wasn’t sure either.
“Well the free coffee was enticing,” he smirks and Seokjin smacks his arm in mirthful displeasure.
“I’ll dare to say your date might be even more enticing than my coffee, and that’s saying a lot coming from me.”
A man better than coffee? Not likely. But Taehyung works up the courage to follow Seokjin anyway, trailing behind him until they come upon a dark haired man who sits with his back facing them.
There’s something achingly familiar about this view, about the warm sunlight coming through the window to shine on jet black hair, the sound of classical music playing in the background.
The strangest feeling of deja vu washes over Taehyung as he prepares to meet his blind date for the first time.
“And this is Yoongi,” Seokjin begins introductions.
But the world moves in slow motion right then, as Yoongi turns around in his chair and Taehyung’s breath catches in realization that the date sitting in front of him wasn’t so ‘blind’ after all.
Because looking up at him without a glimmer of recognition in his expression is someone Taehyung would never have been able to forget despite the many years of time that had passed.
Min Yoongi, his first love.
***
High School, Sophomore Year
Afternoons were always a bit chaotic, especially in the first weeks of summer. Academic courses were slotted for the mornings, leaving the electives for the afternoons. Students divided themselves up between arts and sports and some rare few even split their time between the two.
But as much as Taehyung liked to goof off with his friends on the soccer field, he always preferred the reflective solitude of visual art. Of being able to create something thought provoking and beautiful with his hands.
So instead of joining the screams and laughter that leaked through cracked windows from outside, he sat in the art studio and worked on improving his skills with a paintbrush instead. Dragging color from the bristles across the rough canvas before him, blending the shades and arranging them into something he didn’t always understand— sometimes Taehyung would get so lost in his work he wouldn’t even realize how long he had been there.
Nothing pulled his focus in those moments, not his classmates' soft chatter, or his teachers encouraging suggestions. Not even the shrill whistle of a foul being called on the field outside.
Nothing except the sound of the piano being played by a certain senior from the next room over.
All the arts classrooms sat in the same wing of the building, putting the music students right next to visual art. And by the grace of the universe, Taehyung’s club room right next to the one room with a baby grand that was almost exclusively reserved for the school’s musical prodigy.
Min Yoongi.
He had dark hair and a reserved countenance, someone who wasn’t broody but mysterious. Someone who wasn’t overly expressive but let his emotions flow through his music instead. And he almost always practiced with the classroom door shut.
Taehyung had seen him in the halls during breaks with his friends, other music students who all seemed to pull a gentle smile from his lips from time to time.
Taehyung didn’t know why but sometimes he found himself wishing he could do the same— that he could say something to Yoongi to make his lips pull up in shy happiness. But he never did. What would a sophomore like him have to say to Min Yoongi?
Taehyung was nothing special, just a kid with dried paint on his fingers and unruly brown hair.
So he focused on his art and only indulged in the achingly beautiful melodies through classroom walls, letting his mind wander for a short moment with the thought of Yoongi’s long delicate fingers gliding over keys with each sound.
But one day a miracle happened.
Taehyung rolled his sleeves further up his arm as he walked down the hallway back to the art room after splashing some water across his face and neck in the bathroom. It was a warm day, but many of the classroom windows were wide open in an attempt to let the sporadic summer breeze through.
He was grateful he opted not to wear his tie today, though his uniform vest certainly isn’t helping his temperature regulation either. He considers just taking it off as he approaches his classroom but the sight of something new eradicates all other thoughts from his brain.
The door to the piano room was open— slid all the way wide to reveal Min Yoongi sitting at the bench scribbling something onto the sheet music placed in front of him.
Taehyung stands in frozen awe, unable to pull his gaze away as Yoongi puts his pencil down and begins to play.
The melody sounds hopeful yet wistful at the same time, filled with lilting notes that chase after each other before falling into a series of chords. And Yoongi sits there body leaning into the piano as he plays not just with his fingers but his whole body.
His eyes are closed, not even looking at the notes on the page or the adjustments he had made just prior. Yoongi just feels the music, plays as if he’s fused with the piano itself, letting the song it wants to play flow through him like a vessel.
And Taehyung’s heart skips at the sight, at the sound, at the sunlight warming against Yoongi's pale skin as it shines through the open window just above him. He’s so entranced by the moment that he barely realizes when Yoongi stops playing, eyes fluttering open and chest rising and falling with a deep breath as he leans away from the piano just slightly.
“You know I usually charge for an audience.”
Taehyung blinks with a start as Yoongi’s amused gaze lands on him, giving him a once over as Taehyung attempts to find his words.
“S-Sorry,” he clears his throat, “I was just heading back to the art studio, when I heard you playing. It was a beautiful piece.”
There’s a pause before Yoongi nods at him, an appreciative smile blooming on his face, “Thank you, uhm..”
“Taehyung! Kim Taehyung.” He offers his name immediately, “I’m a sophomore.”
“Ah,” recognition dawns on Yoongi’s face and Taehyung’s stomach flips at the thought that Min Yoongi already knows who he is, “I’ve seen some of your stuff in the display case by the teachers office. Good stuff. Makes you want to linger for a while.”
Taehyung can feel his face flush at the praise, and his mind is doing no better, nearly short circuiting at the kind words, unable to find an intelligible response.
So all that manages to come out is a garbled “Enjoy your practice,” along with a quick bow as Taehyung rushes back to his classroom, heart pounding as embarrassment floods every tip of his body.
And unbeknownst to Taehyung who sat at his stool with his hands covering his overheated face, Min Yoongi turned back to his piano with a fond smile spread across his face— one word passing between his lips with a soft chuckle.
“Cute.”
***
Taehyung sips his iced coffee as Yoongi tells him about his job, that same gentle smile on his face that made Taehyung’s stomach flutter back in school.
He’s a composer now, makes soundtrack music for shows and films, and clearly he could not have been more perfect for it. There’s a light in his eyes when he talks about the work, how he gets to enhance the emotional impact of a scene with his music.
And Taehyung feels lost in him, wishing for Yoongi to just talk forever about his passions and fixations. On and on so he can see the sparkle in his gaze, the flurry of hand gestures as he explains things, the fluctuations in his voice as he moves from one point to the next.
Years may have passed, time may have dulled the memories of his first crush, but the feelings rushed back at him all the same. As if they were sitting dormant in a locked part of his heart, waiting for Yoongi to return with the key.
He’s certain that his eyes are giving him away, that they’re much too affectionate for someone on a first date, and to Yoongi’s knowledge, someone he’s met for the first time. But Taehyung can’t help it, can’t restrain how enamored he is with the man in front of him.
And this time he refuses to let him go without telling him how he feels— without getting the chance to be the one to make him laugh and smile like he always wanted.
Yoongi laughs softly just then and Taehyung perks up, pulling out of his reverie to understand what had been funny. He needed to log it for his future notes.
“What?” Taehyung asks curiously.
Yoongi shakes his head with a smile, “I know I’m pretty but I can’t say anyone has ever zoned out while looking at me with hearts in their eyes.”
Taehyung’s face immediately flushes a deep pink and his gaze drops nervously to his hands. “Oops,” he huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair, “Sorry about that, sometimes my brain can get a little too caught up in the romance of a moment,” he tries to explain without giving away too much.
Surprisingly Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, “The curse of an artist,” he tilts his head slightly and smiles at him.
Taehyung’s heart flips in his chest.
“Oh, so Seokjin Hyung told you what I do?” Taehyung manages to get out, voice only slightly tight with nerves.
Yoongi pauses and observes him for a moment, eyes scanning Taehyung’s face intentionally. It makes him squirm to be inspected like this, and by Yoongi of all people.
“Do you…” he trails off for a second, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, “not remember me?”
Taehyung’s mouth drops open in shock at the admission, “W-Wait,” he stumbles over his words as he works to get them out, “You know who I am?”
Yoongi laughs again, head tilting back as a clear sound of incredulity escapes him,”Of course I do, you look exactly the same,” he gives him a quick once over, dragging his gaze from Taehyung’s neck, across his shoulders, and down his arms, “Well maybe not exactly,” he smirks.
A shiver runs down Taehyung’s spine and his mouth goes dry at the insinuation behind Yoongi’s words.
Fuck.
“I thought,” Taehyung gulps, “Why would you remember me?”
“Kind of hard to forget the cute art student who had a crush on me in high school,” Yoongi leans back in his chair, the epitome of ease.
But Taehyung is anything but. Alarms blare in his head, his eyes widening in slight panic and full surprise. Was he more obvious than he thought? Did Yoongi think he was annoying?
Immediately he starts to spiral, his mind replaying every moment from his school days, desperately hoping he wasn’t acting like some sasaeng trailing after Yoongi.
But his expression must have given his turmoil away because in seconds Yoongi sits up and leans forward, catching Taehyung’s eyes with a soft smile, “I thought it was cute, don’t worry,” his voice is gentle as he tries to reassure a clearly distraught Taehyung, “I wouldn’t have agreed to this date otherwise.”
And Taehyung starts for the second time, “Wait, hang on, you knew who I was before today?”
Yoongi laughs lightly, “Yeah Jin Hyung showed me your picture and let me scroll through your posts first. I take it he didn’t offer you the same courtesy?”
Taehyung pouts and harrumphs, slumping a bit in his chair as he glares past Yoongi to where Seokjin stands behind the counter. He doesn’t even notice the daggers emanating from Taehyung’s eyes.
“Cute,” Yoongi says again and Taehyung’s gaze snaps right back to him, lips parting and cheeks flushing in automatic response.
“Y-You really think I’m cute?” Taehyung murmurs, a slight apprehension in his voice, still unable to believe that Min Yoongi was sitting in front of him and complimenting his looks.
“You’re adorable,” Yoongi answers easily, “especially when you pout.”
“O-Oh,” Taehyung’s eyes dart around nervously, hands fidgeting with unrest at the onslaught of compliments and attention from the one man he had always dreamed of having.
“And you’re also really fucking hot.”
Oh.
If Taehyung felt a flush earlier, these words set his entire body on fire— skin tingling with roiling desire as he watched Yoongi’s eyes darken ever so slightly.
He swallowed.
Yoongi’s leg extends under the table and brushes over Taehyung’s, making him feel simultaneously like the gates of heaven are opening and like he might throw up any minute.
Was this actually happening or was this some sort of sick dream?
“Just thought you should know that,” Yoongi smirks as he sets his hands on the table close enough that one rogue move and they would be touching there too.
Taehyung stares for a while, contemplating his options, iterating on what would happen if he just does it. If he chooses to hold the hand of his high school crush after he just called Taehyung hot.
Yoongi’s fingers twitch ever so slightly and Taehyung glances up at him, looking into eyes tinged with a slight bit of mirth and something in him surges courageously as he slides his hand forward and interlaces their fingers together atop the table.
Yoongi’s breath catches and his mouth rounds into a little ‘oh’ of surprise at Taehyung’s bold move.
“This okay?” Taehyung asks as he gently rubs his thumb along the soft skin on the back of Yoongi’s hand— seeming far more collected than the actual adrenaline rush he feels coursing through his veins at this mere touch.
“More than okay,” Yoongi chuckles lightly as he smiles at Taehyung with a growing affection.
They sit like that for a moment, silently chancing shy glances and letting their eyes wander across each other unabashedly. Until Yoongi clears his throat before breaking the silence.
“You know,” he starts, an eyebrow raised, “I don’t live too far from here,” the end of the phrase hangs with anticipation.
“O-Oh?” Taehyung questions, hoping the direction his mind begins wandering isn’t too presumptuous.
“Mhm,” Yoongi confirms with a nod, “I could show you some of the stuff I’ve been working on?”
Taehyung genuinely perks up at that thought, interested in hearing Yoongi play again after so many years.
“That would be so cool Hyung!” he replies with an eager grin.
“Hyung? Wow, getting friendly already are we?” Yoongi teases, interrupting again just as Taehyung’s mouth opens to apologize, “I’m joking, of course you can call me Hyung.”
Taehyung lets out a laugh and rubs at the back of his head, relieved that he hasn’t just botched the entire date. But his heart can’t help but to sink slightly as Yoongi pulls his hand from his and moves to stand up, gathering his things and pushing his chair back in.
He wants to hold Yoongi’s hand again; maybe he never wants to stop holding it.
And maybe the universe hears his plea because just as he rises to join him, Yoongi outstretches his hand.
“C’mon pretty boy,” he grins mischievously, “Let me take you home.”
***
The fact that Yoongi has a dedicated studio in his place is beyond cool. The space feels cozy with a small leather couch in the corner facing the double desks filled with monitors and other mixing equipment. Adjacent to the desks is a black upright piano, coloring slightly faded with age but loved deeply through its time.
“She’s vintage,” Yoongi says as he watches Taehyung stand before it, “I don’t use it much for recording, more for personal use.”
The faint memory of Yoongi’s lithe fingers gliding across ivory keys dances behind his eyes.
“Will you-,” Taehyung hesitates, “Will you play something for me?”
Yoongi grins softly at him before approaching the piano and nudging Taehyung slightly, “Of course,” he nods at the couch, “have a seat.”
Taehyung lingers just a little, holding Yoongi’s gaze longer than he should— tendrils of tension simmering between them, before he forces himself to follow Yoongi’s words and make himself comfortable on the couch.
He preps slightly before playing, stretching his fingers, rolling his neck and shoulders, taking a deep sigh. And Taehyung just watches with rapt attention, following every movement with reverence and a slight bit of hunger.
Because although he loves hearing Yoongi play such beautiful music, it’s the man himself who really shines in the moment. His passion surrounding him in this glow, an aura that Taehyung can’t seem to keep his eyes, nor his heart, off of.
And it was no different today than it had been all those years ago. Taehyung’s eyes roved over Yoongi as the music flowed through him to his fingertips, his body bending and retracting as he puts emphasis into certain notes. Taehyung can’t see his eyes from his seat, the angle mostly focused on Yoongi’s back, but something in him knows that he’s playing with them closed.
That he’s letting the music control his body and not the other way around.
Minutes pass by like this with Taehyung leaning back on the leather couch entranced by the beauty of his first love playing the piano in front of him again. He lets his mind wander despite his best efforts, watching Yoongi’s long fingers and taut forearms with a shift in his seat.
But at some point the song fades to a close and everything stills— Yoongi’s hands still resting on the keys and Taehyung still lounged on the couch, chest stuttering a little faster than normal.
The air between them is charged as Yoongi turns around, twisting at the waist and still seated on the bench as he moves to look at Taehyung with a shy smirk, “Did you like it?”
Taehyung holds his gaze for a beat before rising with a boxy grin spread across his face, “Of course Hyung, everything you play is beautiful.”
He makes it to Yoongi in a few strides, stopping just before the bench. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Yoongi’s ear, eyes locked on his, “You’re beautiful.”
Yoongi’s breath audibly catches just before he fists Taehyung’s shirt and pulls him down towards him— their lips crashing together in a desperate aching kiss.
Taehyung moans into it immediately, unable to help himself. He had been dreaming of this moment for years, convinced it would never come true, and yet here it was.
His lips pressed to Yoongi’s. His hands in Yoongi’s hair. His legs brushing against Yoongi’s thighs as he stands between his open legs.
His mind immediately darkens and his grip on Yoongi’s hair tightens just a little.
Yoongi whimpers.
Taehyung breaks their kiss, foreheads pressed together and eyes sparking with desire as he pants above him.
“Hyung let me suck you off,” he breathes out, “Please.”
He didn’t want to beg but he wasn’t above it, wasn’t too prideful to lose out on an opportunity like this— with Yoongi so pliant and willing beneath him, looking up at him like he was his world.
Fuck, he was a goner.
“Do you always ask permission like a good boy,” Yoongi quips back, mirth dancing in his eyes.
A shiver passes through Taehyung and he curses slightly under his breath as he drops to his knees before the bench.
Yoongi chuckles lightly at the reaction, but the laugh dies on his lips the second Taehyung undoes the button on his pants and begins to palm at him through his briefs.
Yoongi grips the piano bench and takes his bottom lips between his teeth, noises still escaping from him as Taehyung refuses to break eye contact through his ministrations.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this, Hyung,” he murmurs, “the number of fantasies I played in my head of you by your piano.”
He pulls Yoongi’s cock free, marveling at the flushed pink color and beads of precum gathering at the tip.
“I’ll admit all I wanted in high school was maybe a kiss,” he continues, voice low and eyes holding Yoongi captive, “but somehow you always ended up leaking into my dreams.”
He starts to stroke Yoongi languidly which earns him the sound of his name in moan.
Taehyung’s cock twitches.
“And those innocent kisses turned into something more,” he hangs on the word as he leans forward and hovers over Yoongi’s tip, “explicit,” he breathes out just before dragging his tongue along the shaft.
Yoongi’s fingers thread into Taehyung’s hair as he finally takes him past his lips, curses flying from his mouth as Taehyung bobs on him— hands gripping Yoongi’s thighs all the while.
And Taehyung could not be more turned on by the sight in front of him, eyes scrunched, mouth hanging open as little noises and begging pleas fall from them in constant flow.
Min Yoongi was a vision, and Taehyung never wanted to look away.
Something in him ached to paint this raw beauty, to immortalize this moment forever. But this Yoongi wasn’t meant for anyone but him, so instead of oil on canvas he etched the scene before him into the walls of his mind. The first piece in his own private collection of Min Yoongi that he was determined to build out for the rest of his life.
“T-Tae,” Yoongi gasped out, hips twitching with lack of control, “I’m g-gonna come.”
Taehyung nods at his warning but doesn’t pull off, eager to finish exactly what he started. And seconds later Yoongi’s entire body jumps in ecstasy, his back hitting the piano keys as they make a discordant sound just as he comes down Taehyung’s throat.
His own eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of it, close to coming untouched himself.
They stay a moment like that, Yoongi arched across the piano, Taehyung’s mouth around his cock. But eventually he pulls off with a pop, a small string of saliva still connected to Taehyung’s lips.
He wipes his mouth and grins up at a fucked out Yoongi who seems to be barely breathing above him.
“You,” he pants out, “are insane.”
Taehyung laughs at that, rising from his knees and reaching out for a boneless Yoongi who peels himself off the piano slowly, reaching out for Taehyung who eagerly obliges.
Yoongi yelps as Taehyung scoops him in his arms, holding him chest to chest and wrapping Yoongi’s legs around his waist as he carries him to the couch.
“I meant for you to help me up, not carry me around,” he huffs.
“Oh c'mon," he teases as he plops down on the couch, Yoongi still in his arms so he’s now seated on Taehyung’s lap, “as if you don’t love it.”
Yoongi hums and rolls his hips, smirking as Taehyung hisses at the friction.
“I can think of something else I’d love more,” he drops his voice as he rocks forward again.
“Yeah?” Taehyung managed to grit out, grip tightening on Yoongi’s waist, “Why don’t you show me then?”
“Oh don’t you worry pretty boy,” Yoongi purrs, “I intend to.”
And as he looks into Yoongi’s mischievous eyes, Taehyung knows this is exactly where he was always meant to be.
Here with Min Yoongi in his arms, and in his heart.
Forever.