The next day, after the last few stragglers have slept off their drunkenness and left safely for home, Taehyung and his friends set about cleaning up the cabin, taking down decorations, and rearranging the furniture back to it's original interior design.

As they needle down the task-list of work, Hoseok goes on and on about his party, swearing it was the best night of his life (so far, Namjoon is sure to remind him), spending the whole morning buoyantly thankful to his closest friends for how fun and smooth everything went the whole night.

Delighted by the bachelor's over-expressed happiness, they let him go on.

By all means, the other six also had a great time. Even after deciding to limit their alcohol consumption to a more moderate amount. Which they've only just now come to truly appreciate at this very moment, as they can spend their last vacation day at the cabin free of any pesky hangovers.

Taehyung is especially relieved. That one bad hangover after the night at the club was enough to make him never want to drink again. His stomach is still in recovery.

As for his heart, there seems to be a different type of hangover happening. A bittersweet aching as what happened last night toils with his entire being. He's since been blissfully swept up in Jeongguk. And all the pretty little feelings and sensations that come with it.

Because seriously, it's such an unexpected twist in his life! He likes Jeongguk. And Jeongguk likes him.

Or, at least Taehyung assumes he does. Jeongguk never actually did say those exact words. But that kiss. . .it's pretty obvious his feelings are reciprocated. . .

. . .Right? 

In any case, he replays it over and over again in his head.

The whirlwind confession.

Their kiss in the locked bedroom.

The other super sneaky kiss later on in the kitchen, ironically just seconds after Jeongguk approached him with the request to keep things between just them. Again. Of which Taehyung agreed to immediately, inhibitions flittering on the allurement of those curvy pink lips. So encumbered by the butterflies taking residence in his stomach that he'd have smiled and nodded at anything Jeongguk said.

Obviously logical thinking is at a standstill for Taehyung. Even still, on this day, he's inundated by the sound of his own singing heart, his subconscious repressing that inkling of curiosity to know the answer to certain concerns.

Concerns like, why Jeongguk is once again asking for secrecy, especially from their own judgement-free group of friends.

No. Don't go there, Taehyung.

That's just too much to think about right now. It's exhausting enough trying to focus on his cleaning duties—and that's not anymore from trying to fight the fact that he'd developed real feelings for his best friend at a time when the dark cold waters of the ocean sustained his lifeless being. No, instead, now he's trying to figure out how he's supposed to be productive when he's this wrapped up in Jeongguk's magic—the prettiness, the sweetness, the excitement he brings to Taehyung like rays of warm sunshine, beaming down, making an impossible reach through the surface of the cold water to dance enchanting glimmers over Taehyung's skin.

Last night, Taehyung was introduced to someone new. His name is Jeon Jeongguk. Not best friend, Jeon Jeongguk. This Jeon Jeongguk was different. Really different. And really great. And to say Taehyung is excited about him would be an understatement. He's infatuated with him.

Is that too much too fast to say—
Oh fuck it, who cares when it feels this great?!

A familiar tune begins to chime off distantly, signaling to Taehyung the load of laundry he's in charge of has finished drying.

But he ignores it, pausing where he stands, dropping the empty wicker basket he'd been bringing over to the machine to the floor.

Then he turns, steps over the basket, and in the opposite direction of the laundry room, he makes a start for Jeongguk. Lips ready to put an end to the aching he feels—unable to take any it longer—

Wait, Taehyung! You can't! Remember what you agreed to!

Taehyung stops and turns back.

He swoops up the basket, trudges over to dryer, opens the latch and reaches in for the warm twisted bundle of plaid bedsheets.

Focus, slow down, he repeats in his mind, over and over again.

Think about bed sheets.
Jeongguk in bedsheets.
No. Dogs.
Jeongguk would look so cute with a puppy!
Yes, he would. NO. Ah!—Cats.
He's not a fan of cats—
Horses—Farms—Math.Namjoon.Jimin.Kimchi.Van Gogh.Rocks.
Rocks?—
Must think about something, anything but Jeongguk!
But wait, isn't forcing yourself to not think about Jeongguk technically still considered thinking of Jeongguk?

Taehyung ponders this as he begins to unload the next batch of laundry from the washing machine, slowly slinging wet towels one-by-one into the dryer.

He's grumpy and pouty, wanting to be near Jeongguk like he got to be the night before. Not like Jeongguk; he's so cool and level-headed about things.

Taehyung wishes he could be more like him.

Emotion is damn near impossible to detect on him. Even for Taehyung, at times. It's really hard to tell when there's something good or bad going on with him. Especially if he wants to hide it, and he usually does.

Taehyung's so completely opposite. This week especially has been a testament for how difficult it is for him to stifle what he strongly feels. It shows clearly on his face and in his body language. Even if he can fight it for a little while, it will eventually come out. It won't take long, either. He can't help it. He's just always been that type of person.

Then again, last night didn't seem so difficult to play cool and act as if nothing is going on between them. In fact, he and Jeongguk had actually been able to easily enjoy the rest of the party free of any noticeable coquetry.

Maybe it had been all the social obligations and typical bachelor party nonsense that kept everyone so busy that no matter how they behaved, the risk of exposure was at a minimum.

The loud music was certainly great. Taehyung enjoyed whenever Jeongguk would have to put his lips close to his ear in order for him to hear what he would say to him. And Taehyung quite liked the way Jeongguk's eyelashes would flutter low whenever he'd reciprocate.

Maybe that's why being together around all those people didn't feel so hard—the environment was favorable, and they had a satiating variety of excuses to be close. Taehyung's favorite of the night was when he and Jeongguk somehow ended up squished together in the conservatively sized recliner while watching people play random drinking games in the living room. There were other places to sit, but no one questioned it. Everyone was too busy watching Hoseok's cousins lose miserably in beer pong.

But still. Taehyung and Jeongguk were physically closer—certifiably more intimate—than ever before. And they actually got away with it!

Taehyung bites at his smirk.

Hoseok is right. It really was a great party.

But oh god, in comes the drama, the swooping realization, what will Taehyung do now that the party is over?! All of the people are gone.

No loud music to front their leaned-in whispers.

No low-lit rooms to camouflage all their timid but tender little touches.

No crowds to cover their excuses to be close.

No distractions to—oh no—no distractions. At all.

Taehyung closes the dryer door. Eyes pensive, he stares at the machine's start button.

No, it's fine, there's no need to panic—Taehyung, you've totally got this—you're not going to fuck this up!

BUT—what to do about the lack of actual noise in the cabin?

Taehyung becomes fully aware of the weird staticky sensation that's been buzzing in his veins all morning.

It's not the anxiety from the fact that he's terrible at hiding things from friends, and all the secrets and lies—No, that's the occasional sweating and nausea he gets. This buzzing stems from the aching feeling in his chest that he's been trying to stifle all morning.

It's Jeongguk. Of course it is.

It's the need to see him.

The need to lay his eyes upon his face.

To need to hear his ridiculous laughter.

To need to touch his rough but gentle hands.

As the day goes on, the buzzing continues and it grows. It intensifies. It becomes distracting. He can't work like this.

Eventually Taehyung determines the only way to stop the agitating buzzing, the only way he can be productive—and Hoseok would surely want Taehyung to do whatever he needs to do to be productive—is to see Jeongguk. Just for a moment. Just speak to him for a minute. That's all. Then it's back to work. He swears.

So, Taehyung decides he'll take a casual walk by him. He'll say hi and that's it. He knows he's busy with his own chores, so he only does this once. And in success, that's all it takes.

Fortunately for Taehyung, unfortunately for their chores list, Jeongguk makes it apparent from then on that he'd been experiencing the need, too.

Makes it obvious by the way he keeps coming around Taehyung. Finding any reason to come by him. Hovering, orbiting. Asking if he needs help with anything.

Soon, all else but each other is forgotten. Their only task on their only list is to be near the other and make contact.

While a majority of their interactions throughout the day couldn't be looked at as anything other than usual friendly behavior for the two, there are far too many other exchanges of interplay that certainly could have come off quite questionable, had anyone taken the time to be a little more scrupulous.

Most especially, the shared desperation to actually make some sort of real physical connection that grows wickedly and lapses their judgement.

How quickly their promised discretion regarding their attraction towards each other reaches a dangerous threat level.

It all starts with daring, simple reaches—a communicative hand placed on the lower back or a graze over the arm mid-laugh. Then comes all the numerous instances they lose focus in the middle of conversations, hung up in each other's starry-eyed gazes from across the room. Then it's how often they have to make snap improvisations when seen standing a little too close with no good plantonic explanation. All the flirtatious tones, unnecessary giggling, heightened touchiness and playfulness between the two—all of those sweet but risky endeavors they couldn't help but enact upon all day that brings upon themselves a profound tension.

It feeds them with a false sense of confidence in their sneaking abilities and skewing their judgement until they're tucked away in a shadowy corner of the den—the very room where they shared their first kiss on the couch just nights ago.

But this time, in consequence to their reckless decision, right as their lips are about to make their first, longed-for contact, Yoongi and Jin barge in unknowingly through the door.

Neither of their Hyungs seemed to take serious notice of the rather dramatic reaction of the two, red in the face, jumping miles away from each other.

Regardless, things between Taehyung and Jeongguk changed a little after that by way of mutual avoidance.

Especially on Taehyung's end after seeing the fear in Jeongguk's eyes when they were almost caught doing something he apparently doesn't want their friends to know they do. Or trying to do.

And maybe there's a side of Taehyung that wants to avoid Jeongguk because he really hates lying to the people he cares about most.

Which, once again, why that promise was even made should probably occupy Taehyung more than it does, but it's the promise he made to Jeongguk that takes priority here.

Jeongguk is a smart and good person. He must have reasonable need for such request. Taehyung trusts that which means he trusts Jeongguk.

Until they can have a conversation about it private, in the presence of company, distance is best.

At least for a time long enough until Taehyung can exist around Jeongguk without acting likes he's a high schooler jacked up on hormones making him want to jump his bones every five seconds.

Sheesh. He won't feel like that forever, will he?

He won't be able to function if he can't get ahold of himself. Not when he likes being around Jeongguk like that as much as he does. It's all he can think about anymore.

Look, even right now, he can't even focus on what he's doing. He's just standing there, staring off into the distance holding a carelessly, half-folded sheet.

He's lost in it again. Lost in thinking about how great it feels to be next to Jeongguk. Thinking about his body close to his. The way his lips would graze against his ear. And the way his voice gets raspy when he speaks low—

And this is exactly the reason why Taehyung ends up spending the majority of his time hidden away in the kitchen, alone, committing himself to the least desirable chores on the list where he can let his imagination involving the activities of his next encounter with Jeongguk lull him into a blissful, dreamy state. He doesn't have to worry about getting caught.

Or so he thought.

Unfortunately, it's an unusual state for Taehyung to be in, which consequently draws the attention of Namjoon and Jimin.

They had no idea when they entered the kitchen looking for specific cleaning supplies that they would instead find their usually stolid friend sashaying as he mops the floor, whistling harmonic tunes, and occasionally belting out random opera songs he doesn't know the words to.

In curious disposition, they take seats at the kitchen island, watching and studying, investigating and pestering, wanting to know what's got him so. . . animated.

With strength riding on a promise, Taehyung remains steadfast under conviction, insisting he has no idea what they're talking about.

Meanwhile, Jeongguk—well, he's just on the other side of the cabin, caught up in yet another competition against Seokjin, racing to see who can complete the rest of the tasks on the list that are a little more strenuous. It was Hoseok's brilliant idea, sold on his own motives, and the eldest only gave in to this ridiculousness because Jeongguk kept prodding at him, saying he shouldn't be lifting heavy things because of his old age. Yoongi tried to warn him not to give into the youngest's goading, but Jin was convinced he could prove them all wrong.

And while it's not outside of Jeongguk's parameters to be locked in a contest or to be found going the extra mile in anything he does, it became clear to all that this particular occasion had a driving force behind it.

Far more unassailable than usual, as if possessed by some wildly fierce animal, it's not long before Jeongguk leaves Seokjin in the dust, strung across the couch, long limbs limp, dangling off the sides, groaning and trying to catch his breath while Jeongguk finishes things up. Including moving what's left of the furniture. By himself. A feat that leaves his eldest Hyungs a little concerned, but mostly impressed, and everyone thankful for having less work to do.

It's also thanks to Jeongguk's abnormal vigor that the whole place is put back together, looking better than when they'd arrived, just in time for an early dinner. Other than packing and making sure they're prepared for their trip back home in the morning, the rest of their evening is completely wide open for whatever they feel like doing.

Namjoon proposes they check out the community art festival going on in town that evening. A one night annual celebration of the town's birthday he read about from a flyer he was given by some of the townspeople when they first arrived. "Food, art, shopping. Could be really fun," he persuades the room. Though he knows all he has to do is persuade Hoseok. It's still his Bachelor weekend and it's up to him what they do.

To no one's surprise, Yoongi verbalizes his disaffection over that idea, suggesting instead they could appreciate the time they have left doing nothing but lounging around like, "normal people, who are actually on vacation."

And that's how they all end up in town at the bottom of the mountain.

Much to Yoongi's dismay, they arrive just as dusk has begun to settle, filing out of the twin set of taxi vehicles one after the other.

After the drivers pull away, Taehyung's attention strays from his circle of friends, and out to his surroundings.

Having wandered a short distance from them, he stands at the top of a modest hill that leads down to the town, practically in awe over how unrecognizable the little village is tonight in comparison to the way it looked just two days before, when he tagged along with Hoseok.

"Wow." A voice gasps just as a presence appears beside him, the husky voice awakening the butterflies in his stomach. He knows right away it belongs to Jeongguk, and he's standing so close to him, their elbows are touching.

"It's pretty," Taehyung observes. Not prettier than you.

"Reminds me of a Bob Ross painting," Jeongguk responds and Taehyung makes a small gasp noise.

"It does!" He agrees, too shy to even glance at Jeongguk yet at the same time making sure to keep his voice quiet so that he's not snagging anyone else's attention. He wants it to be just them.

And maybe that's a little selfish, but it's all he can think about.

"Remember the days when we used to stay up all night watching him?" He asks and Taehyung nods in silence, but within comes a swell of mixed emotions, a rush of sad but cherished memories of all the sleepless nights he spent at Jeongguk's house right after his mom died, tears and anxieties chased away by the painter's calming disposition and iconic art techniques. Junk food and good company, too, of course.

"I'd buy it," Taehyung proclaims, recalling their old ritual at the end of each episode.

"Me too," Jeongguk says, and the fact that they so rarely agreed makes Taehyung glance over at him.

Wow.
WOW.

Jeongguk looks so good. He's just standing there, but he looks so. . .wow.

Seriously, how could Taehyung never have noticed how attractive he is? Of course, he's always thought Jeongguk was cute and good looking—in the platonic way—and it's obvious developing non-platonic feelings for someone would change the way one would view the other.

But Taehyung's keen observance over the last 48 hours has completely taken Jeongguk from aww, my bff is cute and handsome, to holy-shit-can't-breathe-can't-think-he's-so-hot-and-I-have-feelings-for-this-dude.

Particularly right now, there's something about Jeongguk that has Taehyung feeling like he's standing inside of a raging fire pit.

Is it that he's standing so very close? The subdued confidence in the way he leans on one leg? The hands in the pockets of his leather jacket? His black hair parted stylishly to the side?

No, it must be those sparkling obsidian eyes. The way they're searching Taehyung's face.

Those eyes are the prettiest eyes Taehyung's ever looked into, but really hard to appreciate when they're on him like this. As if Jeongguk were trying to observe every detail of his face and that makes Taehyung so acutely aware of himself, that when he can actually feel the shade of pink arrive in his cheeks, he forces himself to break eye contact.

Get it together, Taehyung, he begs of himself, eyes returning to the ethereal sight ahead of them. As do Jeongguk's, just in time to appreciate the last bit of oranges and reds before they're overtaken by purples and blues.

And there they stand in silent admiration—side-by-side, cold hands shoved deep into their own jacket pockets, restricted from the kind of warmth only the other's could offer—audience to the sleepy sun as she finishes dragging a dark blanket of night sky along with her until she's disappeared behind the snow-capped mountainous horizon, turning up the vibrancy of the bright lights and colorful lanterns strung atop the low-built buildings and well-maintained hanoks stamped arbitrarily alongside a winding trail of brick road.

It's an undeniably romantic scene. One he'd never have considered with anyone before the man standing next to him. And if the thinks about that too much, he might just burst out into laughter.

"Alright, enough talk, let's go already," Yoongi's voice and body whoosh past Taehyung. Shortly after come the rest of his friends, signifying the short but sweet moment with Jeongguk has passed. And while this one may be over, he can't help but wonder what else the night will bring.

—><—

As the group descends from the top of the hill and down towards the festival, the rich glow of lantern reds, blues, yellows, and greens, along with the lively music and laughter greets them, reflecting the general buzzing mood of the festival-goers.

And though the town's decorations effectively illuminate the areas to which it appears the festival is confined to, it had been unanimously decided to stick together to avoid anyone getting lost. Highly possible considering the old town's maze of unmarked, ancient brick-laden roads and spotty, at best, cell-phone reception.

They take their time, leisurely walking at a calm pace, time passing by with hardly any distance being made.

Mostly due to Taehyung and Namjoon's frequent lingering at the numerous pieces of art set up in make-shift exhibitions by a multitude of artists. Most being amateur, while a very small percentage are educated and trained.

And among them, some of the exhibitors are residents, while the majority are outsiders hailing from surrounding areas, traveling distances to make their annual trip to display their works. In the middle of this one street, in this one little town, Jayu.

Discreetly tucked at the bottom of a giant, always snow-topped mountain ridge, Jayu certainly seems to have some magic about it. Taehyung had never heard of it before, and for small town that's not surprising. But he struggled finding it on any maps when he was first told they'd be coming here.

It's obviously an ancient town, yet it seems to be able to manage a small, but steady stream of modern tourism with its adequate amount of rentable vacation homes, a fancy, celebrity-endorsed restaurant, and, presently in the streets, what seems like hundreds of people—or a number at least triple the modest population inscribed on the welcome sign.

And they're all people that seem so. . .happy. Unusually, but genuinely content.

Whether resident or tourist, the people here regard each other with a friendly kindness that had been admittedly a little unsettling at first for someone like Taehyung, who spent the majority of his life growing up in Seoul. A massively populated city where everyone seems to be running late to something, heads down in their phones, too busy to smile or even notice if they're being smiled at. He thought he liked that lack of conviviality about Seoul, but that's starting to change the longer he's here.

In fact, the whole thing—the festive atmosphere, the people, the art, the lightness in his heart—has Taehyung enjoying being here to an infatuated state. Doesn't even notice the temperature unexpectedly drop to the lowest it's been all week. Certainly not as long as the icy air manages to keep hold of the delicious, mouth-watering aromas of Korea's most traditional street food.

Most of which is passed by with minimal interest since they'd made sure to eat up all the leftovers before leaving. That is until Taehyung comes across a vendor selling steamed buns and hot chocolate, which just so happens to be two of his favorite things to eat in the winter time.

"Good evening," Taehyung is greeted as he stares at the pale lumps, savory steam swirling up to his nostrils. His mouth waters and his stomach growls. He can't resist, he must have them.

Taehyung glances at the backs of his friends disappearing into the crowd, unaware that he's stopped. He'd call to them, but they probably wouldn't hear him. So he begins his order and quickly reaches for his wallet. "I'd like a cup of hot chocolate and—" He stops mid-order, frozen upon realizing that the back pocket he always keeps his wallet in is empty.

"Oh, please—" he panics, patting each and every pocket along his body, but it's no where to be found. He looks around at the ground, thinking he might have dropped it. But then he remembers he'd made a last minute change in his outfit, opting for something warmer to wear after Jimin mentioned something about a weather alert.

Taehyung sighs out a pitched groan, frustrated at himself for forgetting his wallet in his other pants and disappointed that he'll have to go without his beloved treats. He makes a sad frown at the old gentleman waiting for his order. "Sorry, Ajusshi, I don't have my wallet with me—"

"I've got it," a chipper voice chimes in, briefly startling Taehyung.

"Oh!—Jeonggukie, no, it's okay," Taehyung waves dismissively, appearing a bit abashed about his predicament. But Jeongguk willfully ignores his plea and proceeds to make an order.

"Two buns and one hot chocolate, please," he says, payment in hand, outstretched towards the vendor, who takes it with a nod.

As much as Taehyung wishes otherwise, he can't do anything to stop it. The old man is surprisingly quick, already serving Jeongguk a small paper cup and a cardboard pastry box.

After giving their gratitude in the form of a bow, together they merge back into the unorganized flow of people meandering along the sidewalk.

"Ah, don't give me the look," Jeongguk warns Taehyung gently when he hands over the box. "That may work on Jimin, but it doesn't scare me."

Suddenly aware of his own face, Taehyung drops the furrowed expression. But the pout remains.

"Well, you didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I know," Jeongguk says, half-sigh, half-amused.

"Argh—I just can't believe I forgot my wallet," Taehyung whines through his complaint, his fingers wrapped around Jeongguk's upper arm in a beseeching manner. "I'll pay you as soon as we get back, I promise!"

"Hyung, it's not a big deal. You make it sound like it was a million won."

"But still, you know how I am. . .about. . ." Taehyung's words fade away when he realizes the placement of his own hand, still around Jeongguk's arm. He stares at it for a moment recalling the night before and the kiss after their confession, how it felt to run his fingers over the curves of Jeongguk's biceps—Taehyung quickly drops his hand from Jeongguk's arm. Finds in necessary to do so or else he'll find himself in a state comparable to the pastry box he's carrying, with it's little plastic window fogged up from the heat trapped inside. 

And for the next minute of strolling along, shoulder-to-shoulder at their own pace - seemingly in no rush to rejoin their friends - it's quiet between them.

But it's not empty or awkward.

Instead, they're all shy smiles, chanced glances and rosy cheeks before Taehyung intentionally bumps into him, a playful nudge with the side of his body against Jeongguk's.

"Thanks," he says softly, has to trap his lower lip between his teeth to fight back the huge grin threatening to grow on his face.

"Anytime," replies Jeongguk, returning the gentle nudge, mouth twisting into the sweetest, boyish little half-smile. Then, with a flick of his head at something ahead of them, he says, "Look, there's a bench. Let's stop so you can eat."

_________

"Ohhh," Jimin groans aloud, leg bouncing as he stands in front of the town's bakery stand. The sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon hovers in the air, advertising the array of freshly baked goods that look like they could warm the coldest of hearts, even in this weather.

Very clever marketing, he thinks, and it's obviously effective. The scent of the muffins and the creative decorative details on the small cakes alone are powerful enough to have the mouths of those walking by watering, and small humans pleading their adult guardians until they're pulling out their wallets.

As for Jimin, he's got his eyes (and tastebuds) set on a seductive batch of iced cinnamon rolls calling to him from under the heat lamp. "The last time I had one of these was when I went to the States for training! There's only one place in Seoul that makes them like this—the right way—right out of the oven, all drizzled up and gooey and—ugh, but they're always sold out! I can't believe they're right here in front of me, right now."

"So get one," says Yoongi, who is standing next to him, staring down at the sugary confections with an unimpressed look on his face. Sweets really aren't his thing. And neither is this weather. In fact, he's more annoyed at the weather than the bajillion people everywhere at this point, and has been silently cursing it for how painfully uncomfortable he's become. Especially since he'd actually been somewhat enjoying the festival, until the temperature decided to drop out of freaking nowhere. Now he just wants to get back to the cabin where he can check his emails in the warmth of his bed.

Behind them just a short distance away, is Jin and Namjoon, bickering over a very large, wildly abstract painting Namjoon wants to have delivered to their shared flat, but Jin thinks it's so ugly, it'll scare people away. Off to the side of them is Hoseok, standing on a bench while holding his phone in the air, trying to get a call through to his fiancé.

"I can't."

"What, you need money or something?"

"No," Jimin replies as a sigh of longing, shoulders drooping, trying to muster up with the will to walk away. "I have auditions coming up."

"So?"

"So?" Jimin repeats, a bit acidly. "It's a very big, important, life-changing role I'd be getting—look at me," he laughs out humorlessly.

"I am looking at you," Yoongi argues back.

Jimin glimpses at him from over his shoulder. "I. . .I can't just eat whatever I want," he stammers quietly. "I've gotten lucky so far, but now I'm going up against some really big names. I have to look my best," he adds, the fear laced in his words paralleled by the shame etched in his eyes.

At least for another breath or two until his expression turns stoic and he's glaring at his bleared reflection in the bakery's window, refusing to acknowledge the table in front of him.

"Yeah, I know," Yoongi utters in disappointment, having predicted a particular part of Jimin's response.

Before he can say anything else, Jimin moves to leave, but is compelled to stay by a tug to the sleeve of his white puffer jacket.

"Look, I know this is none of my business—I know that you don't need my opinion, nor do you care about it. But I don't care dammit," Yoongi remarks sharply and Jimin wants to yank back his sleeve from his grip. But then, suddenly, Yoongi's moving in a little closer, revealing a softness in his eyes that stops him from making any movement at all.

"These things you say sometimes—that kind of thinking—it can be dangerous," Yoongi continues, less abrasively, more perturbed. "I admire and respect the determination you have to make your dreams come to reality, but this industry will tear you apart if you believe the shit they'll tell you. And you shouldn't, because if those assholes can't see how ridiculously talented, and beautiful, and amaz—h-how amaz—how—" Yoongi's deep voice stutters to a stop, and he begins blinking rapidly.

Holy shit, the brilliant rapping lyricist is struggling to get his own words out of his mouth.

"Well, then they're foolish assholes," he finally blusters out. "And they don't deserve you."

Unable to respond, or even blink, Jimin's jaw drops slightly, mouth forming a small o shape, staggered by the one person he never thought actually cared about anything, or anyone.

No. Why did you say that—you're not supposed to say things like that.

Without another word exchanged between them, Jimin feels Yoongi's hand let go of his jacket. And when he turns and walks away, a gust of icy wind slams into the side of Jimin's face, chilling him down to his bones.

It's not supposed to be like this. You promised.

"My apologizes for taking so long to get to you, sweetheart," a voice unexpectedly rings from behind Jimin, pulling his attention away from Yoongi making his rather hasty departure. Jimin turns and sees a person he can only surmise is the baker-slash-owner, complete with her hair tied up in a net, flour on her face, and a dirtied apron.

"The festival has been so unusually busy this year," she continues on. "I can't keep up! I guess that's what I get for letting my niece have the night off," she laughs breezily, sounding just as grateful as she does exhausted. "But I just keep reminding myself that it's worth it—her boyfriend told me he's going to propose to her tonight!"

Still trying to reel himself in, Jimin shakes his head and waves his hands in the air in front of him. "Oh, wow—no, that's okay, no worries! And. . .congratulations?"

"Yes, yes! He's a wonderful man, thank you!" She chimes while repeatedly bowing her head. "So, what can I get for you? It's gotten so cold out—I bet you're looking for something warm."

"Um, I. . ." Jimin struggles to give her an answer, wrestling with what he should do. He shies away from the table and compulsively glances over at his friends—at Yoongi—who is now positioned between Namjoon and Jin, apparently dragged into mediating their dispute over the unsightly (if you were to ask Jimin's opinion on it) art piece, and the bizarre interaction he just had with him replays his mind, and it inflames him.

He's so pissed off at Yoongi for what he said, he could just march right up to him and give him a piece of his own mind!

But, that's not what happens.

What happens next is the direct result of Jimin coming to the realization about something in that very moment. Something he swore and promised himself (and Taehyung) could and would never happen. At least not until Hell froze over, or pigs sprouted wings and could fly.

He simply spins back around, looks the baker right in her eyes and says, "Actually, that would be great. I'd like two of your biggest cinnamon rolls, please."***

_______

"You sure you don't want any?" Taehyung asks, cheeks full of steamed bun, holding out what little is left after he's scarfed both of them down. "Last bite," he sings with temptation.

Jeongguk, with his knuckles pressed to the side of his head, held up by the elbow perched up on the back of the bench, lets out a low giggle. "It's all yours," he says, admiring the boy curled up on the other end, grey hair rustled by the wintry breeze as he pops the last bit in his mouth.

"Thanks, again," Taehyung says afterwards. Jeongguk's already shaking his head. "No—really—I think those were the best steamed buns I've ever had," he effuses, and when he takes a sip of his hot chocolate for the first time, his eyes widen over the cup at Jeongguk, sparkles practically beaming from them as he swallows. "And this is definitely the best hot chocolate I've ever had."

"Ever?"

Taehyung sips again and nods.

"Maybe I should go steal that man's recipes," Jeongguk jokes. Kind of.

"You haven't learned to make steamed buns yet?" Taehyung asks, head cocked like a puppy.

"I have." Jeongguk shifts against the bench slightly. "Mr. Choi taught me a long time ago, but mine probably aren't that good," he says pointedly, laughing a little.

"First of all, that's impossible. Everything you make is ridiculously good," Taehyung contends, and then his face crinkles in offense. "And second—I can't believe you never told me you learned how to make buns! I'm supposed to be your official taste-tester, remember?!"

"No, no—Not with these," Jeongguk splutters, shaking his head.

"What?! But they're my one of my favorite foods, why not?"

Jeongguk lets out a short giggle at Taehyung's dramatic reaction before looking down at his own hands. "That's exactly why. Too much pressure," he eventually answers, rather quietly. "I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

Taehyung makes a tsk sound. "Jeonggukie, you could never disappoint me," he responds automatically and Jeongguk's eyes jerk up to meet his.

"I might."

"You couldn't."

"How do you know?" Jeongguk challenges. 

"You're good at everything, aren't you?" He shoots back teasingly, something he would have said before this week and they would have had a good banter about it. Tonight, the comment causes something to shift between them.

In tune, Jeongguk eyes Taehyung studiously. "Are we still talking about food?" He asks, a ghost of a smirk on his way too attractive mouth.

"I. . .uh. . ." Taehyung mutters, blinking, staring at his lips, lacking the function to make real words come out of his own. It's not until the very tip of Jeongguk's tongue slips out against the bottom of his lower lip that Taehyung becomes self-aware and realizes he must look insane.

A rush of heat rises up his chest the moment his eyes flit up to Jeongguk's and sees the complete look of satisfaction plastered across his face.

"Aiiii—you're enjoying this aren't you?!" He squeals out, shooting up from the bench in a flustered state.

"Nonono! Come back!" Jeongguk's plea comes out through laughter as he makes an attempt to pull Taehyung back down onto the bench.

He reluctantly sits, pursing his lips and glaring at the boy across from him, whose face is lit up with pure glee.

"Are you done?" He asks, having to curl his lips inward because, in spite of his own pride, Taehyung really can't help but adore it—that big toothy Jeongguk grin. So ridiculous. So beautiful.

Amusement seemingly stifled, Jeongguk scoots a little closer towards Taehyung on the bench. In calm disposition he peers into his eyes and says, "But seriously, were we talking about food or what because—"

Taehyung makes another half-squeal half-grumble noise. Before he can flee from the bench again, Jeongguk makes a quick grab at his winter coat.

"Okay, okay, Hyung—I'm sorry, I'll stop," he giggles, tugging at his coat to spin Taehyung around to face him until he's met with a pout struggling to mask enjoyment. "I'll make it up to you," he offers anyway. "I'll make you the steamed buns."

Taehyung's eyes flash wide. "Really? You will?"

"Only if you'll forgive me."

"Hmm," Taehyung twists his mouth and torso thoughtfully. "Okay!" he chirps with a cheesy grin. 

Jeongguk mirrors his response by breaking out into his own toothy smile. "Okay, how about Monday?" He asks eagerly, not wasting a moment to solidify the deal. "I only have one class in the morning that day. That should give me enough time. I can be at your place by dinner time—you'll be home?"

"On. . .Monday?" Taehyung swallows. Jimin teaches dance on Mondays. Which means he and Jeongguk will have the place to themselves.

No one there to burst through any doors. No one to hide from.
Completely alone.

"Y-yes, I'll be there," Taehyung tries to answer confidently.

"Cool. And—" Jeongguk's body suddenly jolts up off the bench a little.

Taehyung watches as he reaches into his back pocket, and yanks out his phone.

"Oh, it's Namjoon-hyung. I should answer," he says with a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

Agreeing, and grateful for this opportunity to collect himself, Taehyung nods.

"Hey. . .Yeah, we're together. I stopped with Taehyung to get food. Thanks for waiting, by the way. . ." Jeongguk says into the phone with a roll of his eyes, which makes Taehyung snicker. ". . .Okay, we'll come to you guys. Where are you?. . .What?. . .Where is that?. . .Hello? H-hyung?. . .You there?" He pulls his phone away from his ear to look at it.

"Where did he say they were?"

"I'm not exactly sure, the reception here is really bad. I think he said. . .a costume store? No, that can't be it. That doesn't sound right," Jeongguk answers with a look of puzzlement.

"A costume store?" Taehyung repeats, straightening up in the bench like a meerkat to look around, searching the storefronts in their immediate vicinity. "I don't think I saw anything like that here while shopping with Hoseok."

"He said something about a bakery, too. Maybe we should look for one of those," Jeongguk suggests and at that moment, a squealing and giggling toddler dashes past them.

Taehyung watches on with adoration as the tired parents attempt to keep up, arms and stroller overflowing with toys, treats, and other spoils they've purchased for her. He hums contentedly and turns back to Jeongguk, who is just. . .gazing at him.

An observant gaze that causes another rush of heat to crawl up Taehyung's neck.

"What?" He asks, voice coming out softly.

With the corner of his mouth pulling back into an enigmatic smirk, Jeongguk stands up from the bench. "C'mon, let's go find out where our friends ended up," he says. Then, in familiar fashion, he holds his hand out towards him.

Taehyung takes it. Finally, he can touch his hand. It's warm. Strong. Rough. He likes that. "Thanks," he says upon standing, leaving his hand in Jeongguk's, because he doesn't want to let go. And he wonders, by the way Jeongguk glances down at their hands, then back up at him, if he felt it, too. That little special something igniting between them the second Taehyung laid his palm over Jeongguk's.

It was only meant to be a simple gesture, a small act to help Taehyung up from the bench. But as they're learning, things between them don't stay simple for long.

"You're welcome," Jeongguk returns, giving a gentle squeeze to Taehyung's hand as if he wants to let him know that he doesn't want to let go, either.

Unfortunately, they must. And so they do.

Not forgetting to dispose of their trash in the bin close by, they begin in the direction they last saw their friends.

Again, in no rush. Maybe even walking slower than before, with lingering steps, occasionally exchanging casual comments about the town or the art they see as if they aren't completely aching for one another on the inside. 

At least it feels that way for Taehyung. He hasn't been the same since their conversation on the bench, especially now that he's thinking about how they'll be alone on Monday. It's a few days away, but the anticipation is already needling at his skin.

Which just gets increasingly more difficult to ignore each time they're required to press in close to one another in order to squeeze through the overcrowded parts of the sidewalk. It's like the Universe is teasing him with little brief reminders of what it feels like to have Jeongguk's body close to his.

And they just keep going. They keep walking along. Jeongguk is talking about this and that like it's nothing while Taehyung's mind is busy trying to find some way for them to be alone as soon as possible.

Taehyung, get it together! You can't be like this!

But he can't help it. He's overcome, and can't even hear what Jeongguk is saying anymore. 

And it's when it feels like they've gone a hundred miles in a sea of people even though they've only traveled a few blocks with Taehyung teetering on the edge of doing something drastic, that he's abruptly yanked into a thin slice of alleyway between two brick buildings.

Just like the night at the club, he's pressed up against a wall, gripping onto Jeongguk's sleeves, eyes wide with surprise by the swift, unexpected motion and Jeongguk's face inches in front of him.

"Sorry, I—I just can't take it any more," Jeongguk murmurs with that voice of his, all hushed, deep and raspy, strong arms wrapped around Taehyung's waist, sandwiching him against the building—all of which has Taehyung's chest tingling with anticipation, the desire to kiss and be kissed making it impossible to think. "You really don't make it easy."

"Me?" Taehyung whispers, eyelids drooping low while running his hands up Jeongguk's arms until his they're draped over his shoulders. It's the only response his dizzied brain can conjure up. "What did I do?"

"It's just. . .you," Jeongguk answers, and then his voice changes as if he's admitting something sad or painful. "I want to kiss you all the time."

Jeongguk wants to kiss me all the time.

"Here?" Taehyung asks, glancing to his left and right, damned if this moment ends like it did in the den and causes another spell of mutual avoidance.

To the left of them is nothing but a completely dark, empty alleyway that dead ends at the back of another old building. To the right, people. Lots of people, but they're all passing by the alleyway without any idea that the two are there because of how dark it is. This exhilarates Taehyung.

"They can't see us," Jeongguk whispers, and Taehyung doesn't need light to tell that the kid is every bit miserable and in need just like he's been. He can hear it, feel it in the way he's gripping onto waist, and that causes something deep within Taehyung to stir. Something familiar, but also entirely different.

"So kiss me—Kiss me all the time," Taehyung lets out breathless and desperate and Jeongguk does immediately.

He kisses him hard, but unmistakably affectionate. His tongue moves in just the same, wasting no time. Taehyung opens his mouth further and tilts his head, wanting everything Jeongguk is willing to give.

Amidst the static that is currently taking place in Taehyung's brain, the time-and-again thought comes through that he can't believe this is happening—that he's tucked away in a dark alley, in another man's arms, mouths connected, and loving it.

Loving the way Jeongguk tastes, smells. Loving the way Jeongguk moves his tongue against his. Loving the raspy gasp sound Jeongguk makes when Taehyung gently nibbles on that delicious lower pouty lip of his.

What was kissing even like before Jeongguk? It was never like this. It was never this affectionate, breathtaking, knee-weakening. Kissing Jeongguk makes Taehyung feel a thousand beautiful, scary, and exciting things at once. And yet, at the same time, it feels like he's never been so at peace with anything in his whole life.

He wonders if it's as life-altering for Jeongguk. Or, if to him, it's just. . .kissing.

And in the middle of that thought, Taehyung feels Jeongguk's tongue leave his mouth, and then he hears a whisper.

"Hyung."

"Hm?" Is the only sound Taehyung manages to respond with because again, his brain is jumbled, tangled in the waves of heat twisting throughout his entire body from the sensation of Jeongguk's wet lips moving against his as he speaks.

"You taste like hot chocolate."

________________

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***If this doesn't make sense to you now, it will soon. Just be patient. Thanks for waiting. More to come. Love you. Be well. <3