Your dad always taught you that if things fail, you do them over and over until you succeed.
Such a lesson was taught after Taehyung’s eighth birthday party where it was discovered you were scared of sparklers. The sparks always got too close to your hand and you feared it would harm you, that your clothes would catch fire. But your dad found out and every single day for three months, he’d come home and light handfuls of sparklers for you to hold until you got over your fear.
You’re not so sure shock therapy works — on the one occasion it did, but you took away the message of perseverance.
And now you want to try again, especially considering that last time didn’t go as planned.
“You want to go out for drinks?”
You smile, nodding once. “I really want to thank you for helping out with fixing my dad’s roof. I kind of feel guilty that I called you right after a shift—”
“What did I say?” Seokjin laughs, petting your hair before letting his arm drape to his side. “You can call me anytime you need, chickpea.”
Infectious giggles bubble out of your throat, reduced to a school girl that would be a humiliating sight in front of anyone else. “Then let me take you out for drinks properly this time.”
“I’d love to.”
Finally. Without interruption. Just you and a senior you massively respect.
But of course, the plan only lasts for ten minutes.
Taehyung discovers you chatting away and loops his arm around your shoulder, pulling you too close to his chest and too intimately, leaving Jin to quirk a brow. The attention is only diverted when Jimin hears the invitation and self-invites himself. You can’t deny it when he had helped as well.
Naturally, Taehyung joins too without even asking. And somehow, Jungkook ends up part of the group after catching wind of it.
What was supposed to be between two people is now five. But you can’t find it in yourself to be upset or defeated. It’s not a failure when you’re happy they’re all joining.
“Are you sure your house is safe, Jeon?”
“Rest assured, boss,” he uses the name mockingly. “If I was planning to kill you, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”
“And you would’ve died trying.”
“He can’t take on two.” Taehyung nudges the bodyguard who grins boyishly, already liking the sound of the plan. You exchange expressions with Jimin, not impressed whatsoever while he sheepishly smiles.
The front door unlocks and everyone shuffles inside, taking off their shoes.
Jungkook flickers on the foyer light of his town house and instantly, everyone’s cowering with their backs towards the walls and their eyes pinned forward into the darkness, except for Taehyung.
Seokjin’s footsteps are deathly silent and he walks into each room, intruding in Jungkook’s space like it’s his own. He is a shadow in the void, stalking unknown dangers. And in the meanwhile, Jungkook pulls down the curtains and Jimin locks the door behind him. Each person scopes the area for safety.
“No one was following us,” you note while assessing the space, more for practicality than admiring the decor.
“No one’s inside.” Jin comes out of the bathroom with a nod.
Jungkook stops peeking out of the blinds. “Looks like it’s safe.”
Taehyung sighs. “Is this really necessary? You’re acting like I’m the president.”
“Priorities first,” Jungkook says with a shrug. “And the priority is your safety.”
“Can’t skip out on responsibilities with our team leader right here.” Jimin smiles, his footsteps padding over to the fridge.
Jin slumps onto the couch, peeling off his jacket to throw haphazardly and putting his feet up on the table. “You shouldn’t be skipping out on any responsibility regardless if I’m here or not.”
“Why don’t you just make yourself at home.” Jungkook frowns, unamused and he kicks his senior’s feet off of his coffee table. In this space and at this time, no one has authority over anyone else and that includes Taehyung — everyone’s equals with one another.
“What the hell is this.” You walk over to the counter, swiveling on your heel to glare. “You got hard liquor, Jeon?”
“Only the best.” He grins and comes trotting over proudly. “Captain’s Morgan, Jack Daniel’s, the likes. What more could you want?”
“I was thinking something lighter.”
“Nah. That’s lame. Go hard or go home.”
“Well, we better get started then.” Taehyung flops down on the soft sofa too, sinking into the cushions. “You got any snacks?”
“Do I have any snacks.” Jungkook scoffs, personally offended. “You’re in snack haven, thank you very much.”
He grabs the bottles and Jimin brings glasses over. Everyone crowds around the coffee table in the small living room, sitting on the floor together as drinks are poured. You passingly wonder if this is what it feels like to have a group of friends — in the movies where the main character’s in college, it seems like people drink together often. It’s a nice and warm experience.
While the alcohol is disgusting on your tongue and has a way of burning as it travels down your throat, it makes you feel fuzzy after a while, relaxed. Your head becomes lighter and it seems words stream out with more ease.
But it’s still less effective to you than it is to Taehyung. Your stomach is steel while he seems to already be loopy by smelling it, tolerance endearingly low and cause for concern.
“So, how long have you been together?” Jungkook breaks your trance, running his thumb over the rim of his glass as if he tries to emit a ringing sound from it — it doesn’t work.
You don’t know who he’s talking to until he glances at you. “What?”
“You and Taehyung.”
He says it simply and with a lopsided smirk.
Immediately, your neck cranes towards Taehyung, fast enough to get whiplash and you exchange a hardened look with him. “I didn’t tell him!”
“I didn’t tell him either. I swear.” Jimin glances back and forth, alarmed as he reads your expressions and the blonde beside you.
“Wow, you told Jimin, but not me? I’m offended.” Jungkook laughs and leans back against the couch. “I’m assuming it happened somewhere after the whole hostage situation or was it earlier than that?”
“Is it true, chickpea?” Jin eyes you and finishes his drink, pupils still flickered above the rim.
You drown them out, narrowing your stare into Jungkook’s. He smiles with those doe eyes of his that are far from innocent. If no one told him….. “How’d you know?”
“I picked up on it.” He shrugs with a pout. “ It’s pretty obvious, y’know. Doesn’t my job require good observation skills? Plus, you two aren’t very good at hiding things. Pretty bad actually.”
“I….we’re….” You’re fiddling with the hem of your sweater, bringing your knees to your chest. Everyone’s waiting for an explanation — Jimin who watches carefully, Jungkook who’s much too curious and Jin who’s shocked. Taehyung waits as well, patiently, to find how you want to label your relationship. His eyes are piercing, intense, and it makes you swallow hard. Suddenly, the empty glass in front of you is the most interesting thing in the room. “...pre-dating.”
“The hell’s that?”
“We’re giving it a trial run before doing anything serious. We figured it would be….safer and better if we wait until Taehyung’s dad isn’t the President anymore. Less conflict of interest. Less chance of news outlets drawing attention to it. Fewer issues all around.”
“That’s really responsible,” Seokjin says, genuinely touched that you both gave so much thought into it.
Jimin sits straighter, bright smile directed to his superior. “That’s what I said too!”
“That’s dumb,” Jungkook corrects and deadpans. Then he releases a sigh held in his chest, lolling his head to the side. “You know there’s no such thing as pre-dating, right? You’re either dating or you’re not. You’re together or you’re not. But whatever. Do what you want. Label it whatever you want.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Jin chides with a scoff before turning to you with a softened smile. His hand lifts to plop on top of your head much to Taehyung’s dismay who swats it away in a petty manner and pulls you close to him. It makes Jin laugh. “Never thought this day would come. But I’m happy for you, chickpea, as long as you’re happy.”
“I’ll admit, I for one, always thought you liked Jin,” Jungkook exposes without regard.
“W-what?” You’re left sputtering, face heating. “He-he’s just someone I really respect.”
Taehyung scoffs, arm extending to drop on the couch right behind you. “You wish, Jeon. She much prefers me. I’m not just eye-candy or for one night. I’m the guy you introduce to your mom. I’m the real deal.”
“Psh.” The boyish bodyguard snorts. “Sure. Whatever makes you feel better about yourself, Kim.”
At this point, Taehyung’s ready to fight Jungkook to the death. But Seokjin steps in, clarifying, “Y/N and I are just close since we’ve known each other for so long.”
“She knew me for longer,” the man beside you counters, cocking his eyebrow upwards.
Everyone ignores him. “When I met her, she was the size of a pea. Or like a baby chick.”
“Is that why you call her chickpea?” Jimin asks and he nods, shifting to you with a smile.
“I met you when you were what...six?”
“I think so?” You’re unsure yourself. “I was in kindergarten.”
“Wait,” your partner interjects, hands in the air. “ You knew him before you knew me?!”
He’s beyond offended. Taehyung did, in fact, not know you for longer.
“Yeah, I was brought to my dad’s dojo. He was a student there.”
“My parents put me in taekwondo,” Jin says with a smile while Jungkook hums and pours more drinks for everyone, sobering up too quickly for his own liking. “They put me in a whole bunch of activities, like soccer and piano. But I liked taekwondo the best.”
Your jaw goes slack. “You know how to play soccer and play piano?”
“Not that well.” The older man is sheepish, scratching the back of his neck.
Jungkook quickly adds, “I know how to play drums.” Except no one pays him any attention except for Jimin who tells him that’s super cool.
In the meanwhile and as you’re swooning, melting into your spot at the idea of Kim Seokjin being talented beyond your own imagination, Taehyung’s not impressed whatsoever. What he thought was his leverage against the man has been ruined.
Taehyung thought he got to you first. He was your childhood friend. But goddammit! It was Seokjin who was always there without him even knowing.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew him before?”
“It’s not that big of a deal. We only saw each other at most...three times a year?”
“Oh.”
“Drink up, folks.” Jungkook shoves a shot into your hand. You look over to the man beside you, jean-covered thigh brushing yours, but he practically inhales the alcohol before you can tell him otherwise. You drink as well, coughing afterwards from the bitter taste. Even Jungkook sharply inhales, brows twitching for a moment before he sets it down, unaffected. “When’d you meet Taehyung?”
“I was in grade...three?”
“I was in grade two,” Taehyung comments with a smile, relaxed again. He’s no longer threatened by Jin’s presence, not like he was legitimately worried earlier. It’s all in good fun...mostly because he knows you too well. You like him the best regardless of what you might say or do — he’s confident on it.
Taehyung’s not wrong either.
“I played with him, well, more like babysitting.”
“You did not babysit me,” he defends with a playful scoff.
You alter your words, choosing them carefully. “I had to keep him...preoccupied while my dad and his were working. Like three to five times a week.”
“Did you get paid?” Jimin asks and you reply with a ‘not really’ while Taehyung shouts a ‘why would she?!’
“Well you do now,” Jungkook chirps, cheeky in the way he says it.
You raise both your brows and glass, taking a drink to it. He laughs happily, pouring you one while Taehyung glares, not particularly entertained with the way the conversation was heading.
But thankfully, Jimin clarifies, “You two are childhood friends then.”
“That we are,” Taehyung chimes proudly and with a giddy giggle. “We were best buds.”
“Well…..”
“Weren’t we?”
“Sure.” You grin and reach over to lightly pinch his cheek. His skin is already pink before you’ve touched it, but when you do, it’s warm beneath your fingers.
“Ugh, don’t be gross.” Jungkook groans without really meaning it. He pours himself another glass, liquid sloshing the sides of his cup. “I don’t need this public display of affection in my house.”
Jin’s smiling at you while Jimin’s shy. But Taehyung revels in it and to piss Jungkook off, he loops his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to lean on his chest. You comply, not bothered whatsoever. Maybe it’s the liquid courage that seems to dull your sense of shame.
“You went to school with Y/N, right?” Jimin inquires with a hum, words beginning to slur together. “I think you mentioned it once or twice.”
“Yep,” Jungkook answers. “We went to the same high school together. We never talked much though. We were just classmates.”
“He was a shrimp,” you laugh out, the picture in your mind too funny to you. “I should find the yearbook and bring it for everyone to see!”
“Don’t.”
Jungkook’s warning doesn’t faze you. “He had a bowl haircut and wore clothes way too big for his size.”
“Hey, better than you. Everyone was scared of you. For a while there’s a rumour going around that you couldn’t talk at all. No one had ever heard your voice.”
Taehyung nudges you gently. “Something things never change, huh. Miss. Scary-Pants frightening children from day one.”
“I just didn’t talk much back then,” you mutter in defense.
“Everyone goes way back with Y/N then, except for Jimin,” Jin notices.
“Don’t worry, Chim. I like you the best.”
The boy in question grins, beaming brightly. “Thanks, Y/N.”
The night continues, stories being told and exchanged. There are tales of Jungkook moving to the big city, Jimin’s first day of work and how he nearly soiled his pants getting lost in the Blue House, as well as Taehyung talking about his attempt of running away at age seventeen.
There are more drinks passed around for one another, games played until everyone’s brought to the same level of drunkenness that Jungkook’s satisfied with.
You feel warm from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, finding laughing and giggling too easy. You don’t remember the last time you smiled or spoke so much.
But when it’s all done and over, you’re laying beside Taehyung on the floor. The lights are off, Jimin passed out about an hour ago and Jin taking the couch, falling back after trying to go home and finding it too difficult to do so. Jungkook’s a log on the floor as well, dead asleep by the television.
The sounds of snoring fill the small space while you’re still wide awake, as well as a certain someone.
“Did you have fun?” You try to whisper and stay quiet, but it fails as giggles bubble up your throat, ticklish from how close he is to you.
“Yeah.” Taehyung grins. “I had fun. Did you?”
“Yeah. I’m glad.” You reach out, happily taking his hand to hold it. He laces his fingers through yours and you smile infectiously.
There was no better place than here, surrounded by your closest friends and laying right beside him. You could see part of his face with the moonlight shedding through the gaps of the curtains and your eyes run along the slope of his nose, his cupid’s bow before lifting to his lashes.
Kim Taehyung doesn’t seem so lonely anymore.
And you’re relieved, heavy weights lifted off your shoulders, your chest lighter than it was before without the worry. And for you, while you’re still troubled every so often, it isn’t hard to speak what’s on your mind anymore — and it’s not just from liquid courage that prompts honesty.
It’s difficult to pinpoint your emotions, but you know it’s here. even if it’s overwhelming.
“Hey.”
“Hmm?”
“Where do you think we’ll be in a year,” you murmur, eyes flickering downwards where he squeezes your palm. “What do you think we’ll be doing?”
“I would’ve graduated by then. We’d be together.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I think so.” Taehyung smiles softly, the corners of his mouth pulled. “Hopefully my dad won’t run for a re-election.”
“And if he does?”
Taehyung hums a low note, soothing and enough to lull you asleep. But you keep your eyes peeled back, hanging onto every syllable that leaves his rumbling voice. “Then we could leave. If you want to. We could go to someplace else where...they wouldn’t know me…..they wouldn’t know you. It wouldn’t be dangerous. Or bad. You know? There are good art schools in other countries….I think you’d qualify for their police force if you tried or maybe join the WWE or whatever.” Taehyung laughs quietly. “Maybe you can even be an ambassador for our country or work at the embassy….”
You grin. “I thought you said you never wanted to leave.”
“Yeah, I said that.” The man sighs, eyes fluttering. “Cause I was scared that there’d be nothing if I came back. No one would remember me. But...I’m not scared no more. You’d be with me no matter what. Dad would be here. And Kook and Jin would be too. There’d be something for me here.”
“Okay.” You nod, squeezing his hand again before curling against his chest.
“Hmm? Okay, what?”
“Okay, let’s go. If we have to.”
Taehyung smiles against your hair, nuzzling into you. “Really? You’d come with me?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“We’d have to rent a place together and stay together all the time.”
“Good. I can protect you that way.”
He giggles, giddy at the prospects of the future. “We’d basically be married.”
“Sure.” You shrug, reveling in his pleasant scent of lavender and baby lotion. “Whatever you want.”
“You always give in to me,” Taehyung murmurs. “I feel like I push you around too much.”
“Only cause I let you.” There’s a big distinction of being forced and giving in, one that took you a while to learn. “I don’t mind it.”
“Are you sure?”
“You already asked me and I already said yes, dumbo.” You pull away slightly, reaching up to press a kiss against his mouth, one with too much tongue and saliva. You can taste the alcohol on his breath before pulling away.
Taehyung pouts. “I’m not the dumbo, you are.”
“No, you are.”
“No, you are.”
“Hey.” A few meters away, Jungkook rolls over. “Can you guys shut the fuck up?”
The two of you apologize before laughing and lest Jungkook moves to kick you both in the shins, Taehyung pulls you to his chest to muffle the sound. Eventually, your eyes bat thrice, lids becoming too heavy to resist….and you’re gone.
The world is bleary, blurred at the edges.
But as he blinks twice, his vision clears and he sees you at the table, sitting with your legs crossed. Your head is dipped low, neck probably hurting with how it’s bent. Yet, you continue relentlessly, small hand gripping the pencil that’s working hard against the paper, scratching lead into the surface. It moves in a flurry, fast. You’re a hard-worker even at eight years old.
Taehyung glances in the full-length mirror by the display case of plates and antiques left for decoration. He tips his head to the side as he studies his own reflection — big eyes looking back at him with overflowing cheeks. He’s less than four feet tall, dressed in long pants and a yellow shirt with a cute dog face on it.
He turns back around.
“Dumbo, what are you doing?”
“Working,” you mumble and he approaches, finding multiplication worksheets in front of you and you’re doing them rather quickly without needing to count on your fingers or mull over it for too long.
Suddenly, Taehyung’s eye catches the dinner table. Twisting around, there are two dark-haired males sitting without their feet touching the ground. Their legs are swung straight out, bouncing.
And Taehyung realizes this isn’t a memory at all — it’s a dream.
Jungkook’s doe eyes are even bigger and rounder than before, his lips in a permanent pout. The kid glances over beside him and his sticky fingers grab for the bag of candies, ripping it away from Jimin’s grasp. The latter child is stunned for a good ten seconds before bursting out into hysterical sobs, fat tears rolling down his cherub cheeks.
“He stole it from me!”
Jungkook digs his hands in, bringing it to his mouth and chewing the candies in his cheek. He blinks, completely aloof to the frenzied kid beside him who’s having a complete mental breakdown.
“Jungkook, don’t steal.” Footsteps pad out from the room down the hall, a taller and older person from the rest walking out. But despite seeming to have a good head on his shoulders and carrying himself more maturely, Seokjin’s still a child, not much older than the rest. “It’s okay, Jimin, we’ll get you another one,” he tries to placate and comfort in a smooth timbre.
Jimin’s curled fist raises to rub away at his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Really, really?”
“Triple really.”
A gooey smile spreads into his face and he quirks his head to the side. “Okay! I’ll share right now then!”
Despite Jimin’s compromise, Jungkook has no plans of letting go of his snacks any time soon.
Seokjin turns, looking over. He smiles and walks up slowly with arms behind his back before coming to lean over you. “Doing math homework, chickpea? Need help?”
You shake your head furiously. He stares. “Are you sure?”
Jin’s getting too cozy for your liking, too close. Taehyung watches curiously as you climb up onto your feet, steps scattering noisily. He expects you to dash down the hall, but instead you go right behind him for protection. Taehyung feels the way you grasp onto his shirt in fistfuls, and he grins, standing straight and boldly as your shield while something blooms inside his chest, making his tummy feel fluttery.
You peek out timidly from Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Okay then,” Jin smiles gently, not taking how you shied away from him to heart. “Tell me if you need it.”
“’Kay.”
Taehyung didn’t need to steal you away. You naturally came to him. And his heart is soaring.
After Seokjin leaves, Taehyung turns around to gaze at you. You were too cute — he wishes he didn’t bully and tease you as much as he did back then. “I thought you wanted Jin to help.”
“No.” You shake your head, smiling coyly before your finger pokes at his arm. “I want you to help with my maths.”
“I’m bad at math.”
“That’s ‘kay. I like you better.”
“Really?” His lashes bat, quirking your head to one side.
Your cheeks are puffy, big and swollen. “Yeah. You’re my favourite.”
He grins, so big that it hurts. Taehyung leans down and holds your hand, lacing his fingers between the gaps of your own. You watch the entire time, fascinated. Then, you look at him again with another sweet smile, a chortle that tinkles. “That’s good. You’re my favourite too. I like you.”
“How much?” you ask.
“A lot. Enough for me to love you.”
You’re made shy, bashful and giddy all over. “I love you too.”
Taehyung’s shaken awake by his own consciousness. Luckily, he’s not looking at Jungkook’s toes when his eyes open — he sees your sleeping face first. Through sleepy vision etched in blurriness, he watches the way your soft breathing leave through your parted lips, the way your lashes are sprawled against your skin, how your chest heaves up and down ever so gently.
Taehyung pulls you closer, nuzzling into you.
He goes back to sleep with a smile. If he knew at seven years old he would’ve been with you like this, past Taehyung would’ve been ecstatic for the future….
