Work Text:
It’s a Monday morning when Kim Taehyung is sitting on the couch flipping through one of his various coffee table books and suddenly turning to his fiance to say, “We should get married.”
Min Yoongi is not impressed. He narrows his eyes and tells Taehyung as much.
“We are getting married. In six months. Literally paying a pretty penny to have it at the Shilla Hotel like all the celebrities do because you insisted.”
Taehyung casually waves a hand in the air, the thin band on his ring finger catching in the light. He really does love the sight of it. “No, hyung. Today.”
And that immediately grabs Yoongi’s attention. The older man drops the newspaper he’d been reading and goes to push his glasses up his nose. Whether or not he expects things to suddenly become clearer in his brain, Yoongi isn’t sure.
Yoongi folds the newspaper slowly while trying to quell the trembling in his hands. He swallows and licks his lips, gearing up to receive an explanation. “What do you mean?”
Taehyung’s wavy locks nearly cover his eyes, but Yoongi is very well acquainted with the face he loves the most to spot the little crinkles at the corners of Taehyung’s eyes. They always appear when he’s happy and sated—usually after sex, sometimes after biting into a particularly ripe strawberry.
Always, though, when Yoongi is around.
“Let’s get married. Today. Just the two of us with god and the world as our witnesses.”
Yoongi gulps and takes a quick glance out the window. Taehyung is known for some outlandish ideas and Yoongi is always game for them, but he doesn’t know how on earth they’re supposed to have a fucking wedding between the two of them at six o’clock in the morning.
“You and me?”
Taehyung rolls his eyes and nods. “Yes, you and me. Have you been planning on marrying someone else without me knowing?”
Yoongi shrugs and Taehyung lifts up his hand to show off his engagement ring once again. If Yoongi had known how much pride and pure, unadulterated love would flow through his veins at the sight, he might’ve taken Jungkook’s advice and proposed even earlier.
“Let’s go,” Taehyung says, suddenly in Yoongi’s space and grabbing a hold of Yoongi’s hand to lead him out of their apartment.
Yoongi instinctively follows without question.
Once they get to the still dim foyer, though, Yoongi plants his feet on the cold tile and looks uneasily between the door and Taehyung’s smiling face. “Are we really doing this?”
“Yes,” Taehyung replies, as if it’s that simple.
“You’re wearing your cashmere pajamas.”
Taehyung looks down to see that yes, he is indeed wearing his cashmere pajamas that Yoongi bought for him in Paris. He takes every opportunity to tell everyone that he loves them with all his heart, considering the ordeal Yoongi had gone through to get them for their first Valentine’s Day together.
“I am.”
The fabric is warm and soft to the touch, elongating every one of Taehyung’s features both large and small while still leaving him looking polished with its sophisticated cream color and delicate ribbing. To finish off the look, Taehyung has even punctuated the outfit with his favorite pair of Gucci slides.
Yoongi loves the sight of Taehyung’s toes. Hoseok calls him whipped all the time for it, but he can’t help himself. They’re really fucking cute.
He blinks, and Taehyung must figure he should have some kind of reason besides just walking out in whatever feels comfortable to him. And ah. There it is.
“Hyung,” he whines. “I could be stark naked out there and I wouldn’t give two shits because all that matters is that I’m with you. Plus your body’s at the perfect height to cover everything without detracting from my face…so maybe it would be a better idea to go out naked after all.”
Taehyung’s face brightens in thought while Yoongi scowls in return.
“What about your ass?”
“You have to choose a side,” Taehyung suggests deviously, wiggling his eyebrows at his fiance, the man who’s promised the rest of his life into Taehyung’s hands.
“No one can see your ass, Taehyung-ah. That’s just for hyung,” Yoongi pouts. Taehyung knocks his head back in laughter and Yoongi watches as each of his features light up with glee.
“It is just for you,” Taehyung agrees.
Fuck it, Yoongi thinks. He pulls at Taehyung’s hips and wraps his arms firmly around his waist once he’s close enough. Yoongi won’t admit this to anyone, but it sends a thrill throughout his chest every time he has to press up to his toes to fit his chin over Taehyung’s shoulder.
“Love you,” Taehyung says easily, as if this would be the only thing he’d ever say if he had the choice.
“So, are we going to city hall? Is that how we’re going to do this courthouse elopement?”
Taehyung frowns from the driver’s seat, one hand over the steering wheel and the other intertwined with Yoongi’s own. Not the city hall option then.
“Where’s your sense of romance and wonder? Stop spending so much time reading, hyung. I can’t lose you to the pains of realism before we even get hitched.”
Hitched. Married. Tied to Taehyung forever. The thought takes Yoongi’s breath away.
Every morning the sun rises in the east, and without fail it sets hours later in the west. Every morning Yoongi wakes up in love with Taehyung, more than he ever imagined he could be, and falls asleep hours later, somehow even more in love with the gentle, rambunctious spirit who inhabits the space next to him, every moment of every day.
Yoongi stares out the window of the dark SUV as they weave through empty city streets. It’s quiet, the sun barely just rising, and Yoongi is taken aback with all the potential that teems from this moment in time.
While he has no clue as to where they might be headed, Yoongi does have an inkling that Taehyung is purposely taking the long way there. He remembers the first time he’d learned Taehyung had bought a car, inexpensive and nondescript, so he could surreptitiously meet friends on days off. He remembers realizing that the long way had become Taehyung’s way after that; suddenly the boy knew the map of all these Seoul neighborhoods like the back of his hand.
Anyone close to Taehyung knows he values his life outside of Bangtan just as he does his time with the rest of the group. How much he loves each and every member with his entire soul, how much he loves ARMY and wants to give his all back to the ones who love him the most.
And then beyond that, how important his times with his Wooga Squad and hometown friends are in recharging that ever curious and energetic spirit. One man is the amalgamation of those closest to him, but Yoongi can’t help but think that each and every one of them are the ones that benefit the most from knowing and loving Kim Taehyung.
It reminds Yoongi of how much he respects that Taehyung is so individually his own—he has his own hobbies, his own quirks, his own friends, his own vast set of knowledge and wisdom that could stand headfirst against Namjoon’s any day.
If Taehyung as a complete picture is an enigma that even ARMY can’t definitively figure out, Yoongi already knows he has no shot at even making an attempt. And that’s the way he loves it.
It’s what Yoongi appreciates most about his soon to be husband: the fact that while the name Kim Taehyung encompasses so much he can’t name, his mere presence is enough to shed light even in the darkest of nights. Taehyung, with his sharp eyes and keen heart, always searches for pockets of hope as he roams the universe, diving into each one head on with reckless abandon.
The man in question parks on a side street and hisses at Yoongi to stay in place before hopping out and running around to the passenger side to grab Yoongi’s door for him.
“Need to impress my soon to be husband,” he says as he pulls Yoongi’s hand into his own, and Yoongi, to his credit, tries his best to keep from rolling his eyes.
Taehyung tucks Yoongi’s arm in the crook of his elbow, fingers slotting through his own as they always do. Yoongi knows his hand is smaller than Taehyung’s, his fingers just a tiny bit thicker too, but it says a lot that even someone like him who writes lyrics for a living can’t put into words how perfect it feels when they intertwine.
“You always impress me,” Yoongi admits, and smiles when Taehyung lifts those same intertwined hands to his lips to press a kiss to the inside of Yoongi’s wrist.
“We should get married every day if it means you saying stuff like that.”
Yoongi stops in his tracks and fixes a purely unimpressed look at his fiance. “I take it back, I take it all back. You know what? I’m going home. I’ll see you in six months for our outlandishly expensive wedding, you sick fuck.”
Taehyung laughs something big and wild and free, and Yoongi bites his lip to hide his smile, picking up his steps again as Taehyung gently leads.
And oh.
Now Yoongi understands where they are. The walk to their destination had been short yet filled with a kind of nostalgia Yoongi hadn’t been able to place, but as he takes in the scene that beholds them, he suddenly understands.
From the pond on their right to the towering array of glass on their left, Yoongi’s suddenly taken back to a moment years ago centered on a dizzying arrangement of light and bodies that made for their YouTube Dear Class of 2020 performance.
The building itself hasn’t changed much over time, but it’s almost disorienting to see it in the throes of autumn as opposed to what it looked like back in the spring. Maybe it’s all a part of an illusion, a fantasy built on the shaky foundations of a memory reaching nearly five years in age.
As they approach closer and closer to the National Museum of Korea, Yoongi is struck with overwhelming pride—for his country, for his boys, but most of all for his fiance. He doesn't know what good deeds he's netted in a past life to warrant such a love, but he squeezes Taehyung's hand tightly and hopes he's a partner, a friend, a husband worthy of it.
In the dusky morning light, the thin steps leading to the top seem like they never end. One day Yoongi wants to bring Taehyung back, stand him at the top of the landing, and declare the various reasons why he loves him as he inches closer to the love of his life, tiny step by tiny step.
The only thing that worries him is the fact that there will never be enough steps to encapsulate just how much he loves this man.
“How do you want to do this?” Yoongi asks as they slowly ascend the very steps in question.
Taehyung shrugs as if he hasn’t thought that far ahead yet, and knowing him, Yoongi realizes it’s true.
When the two make it to the top of the steps, Yoongi takes a moment to survey the mountains north of the museum space. Sunlight dips in from the east, rays peaking through and highlighting prisms of light all over Taehyung’s head. Yoongi takes the moment to trust in his heart that this moment right here and now is strictly for them.
“I love you,” he says, and Taehyung responds with a lopsided smile that says he knows. It fills Yoongi with unending warmth from the inside out, from the way it expands deep in his diaphragm to how it pumps through each and every one of his veins from head to toe.
The words feel too small to express how he feels for Taehyung, yet too large to utter in a space even as vast and cavernous as this one.
He remembers freezing out here in the dead of night to film for that YouTube graduation event all those years ago, surrounded by so many of their staff yet still feeling cold as ice. Yoongi hadn’t said anything but Taehyung had noticed him shivering all the same, taking Yoongi’s smaller hands in his larger, perpetually warm ones and blowing full winds of warm air in his direction.
Everyone always shits on Taehyung for pretending to chew gum for no reason, but he’d actually had it in his mouth that time, breath sweet and minty as it wrapped itself around Yoongi’s frigid hands.
“Hi hyung,” he had said sweetly, not even noticing Yoongi venturing into a near mental breakdown. If Taehyung had only lowered his pointer fingers a centimeter or two, he would’ve been able to feel Yoongi’s rabbiting pulse for himself.
They hadn’t even been dating at the time, but Yoongi thinks this is the moment he fell in love with Taehyung.
Rather, he knows this was the moment he finally realized the depths of his feelings for Taehyung. How they were different than anything he felt at the time for Namjoon, Jin hyung, Hoseok, Jimin, or Jungkook. All his fellow members were family, people he’d gladly give his life for in a heartbeat.
But something about Taehyung made him want to live.
Instead of saying anything then, Yoongi had just tightened his grip on Taehyung’s fingers and replied with a soft hello of his own.
The Taehyung now, standing at the top of these steps five years after that moment, looks at Yoongi with unadulterated fondness in his eyes. This time Taehyung knows how much Yoongi loves him, and Yoongi sincerely hopes there’s no need to check his pulse or hold his breath because he’s done a good enough job conveying that love to his fiance.
“It’s just us, hyung,” Taehyung says finally, jostling Yoongi out of one of his favorite memories.
“It is just us,” he murmurs, turning to face Taehyung.
Yoongi maneuvers their bodies so that they’re close enough to feel each other’s body heat yet far enough away to have their clasped hands hanging strong and expectant between them.
Then he suddenly laughs. “Taehyung-ah, we don’t even have our fucking rings.”
“Semantics,” Taehyung replies as he briefly lifts a hand to wave the thought away. “It’s just me, hyung. A wedding at its core is just people vowing to love and honor and fight for each other for the rest of their lives. I don’t need to say it in front of everyone else. All that matters is that you know how much I love you.”
A blush rises to the apples of Taehyung’s cheeks, and it’s too fucking cute to bear. Yoongi leans forward and bites at each bit of soft flesh as Taehyung giggles and tries to swat him away.
“I think the price tag for the ceremony and reception at the Shilla beg to differ. But well…take it away, sweetheart. Knock my socks off.”
“I’ll have you know, hyung. Both sets of my vows to you are going to be so good they’ll send you straight to Hong Kong.” Taehyung looks so proud of himself, and Yoongi is helplessly in love.
“That’s not—” Yoongi tries good-naturedly but ultimately decides it’ll be better to quit while he’s ahead.
“Hyung,” Taehyung starts, taking a deep breath and squeezing Yoongi’s hands as he begins.
Yoongi has seen Taehyung in all sorts of disarray over the years, but he’ll never get over how the younger man can somehow look both confident and nervous when it comes to him.
“I love you. You might think this is just another one of my random thoughts, but I’m screaming inside right now. I can’t believe you actually agreed to do this on a Monday of all days.”
Taehyung pauses to glance around them, smiling at the sky and the air and the sounds of life waking up all around them as if he’s thanking them for putting everything on hold while Taehyung and Yoongi take the first of many, many important steps together as husband and husband.
“You’re so whipped for me,” Taehyung says proudly, and Yoongi laughs. He is so whipped for him.
“We might be getting married on a Monday, but none of that really matters when it comes to you. We might as well be getting married on a Wednesday or Thursday because weekdays and weekends all blur together when I’m with you.
“When I’m with you, I’m not worried about the time or waiting for the weekend to come. When I’m with you, it might as well be one continuous day because that’s how much I want to spend my entire life with you.”
Yoongi hangs on to Taehyung’s every word, eyes flitting across his face as he listens intently to the various combinations of letters and syllables that spill from his lips.
“My Suga, my forever Yoongi hyung…has such. beautiful. teeth,” Taehyung yells, letting go of Yoongi and stretching his arms wide and spinning in a slow circle. His words echo throughout the space, booming far and wide, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to watch the love of his life light up from the inside out.
It’s ridiculous how in love with him he is. Yoongi could watch Taehyung do anything at all, and he’d be hard pressed to find any reason to not believe that he’s the best thing to exist since the ability to cook ramen at a convenience store became a real, legitimate thing.
The sun slowly ascends up the sky, and Yoongi struggles to decide what exactly shines brighter: beautiful, vivacious Taehyung or the measly looking sun. Who is he kidding, it’s obvious which one will always win out.
“In all the years to come,” Taehyung continues as he finds Yoongi’s hands again. “In all the years we’ll tackle standing side by side, I hope it’ll be filled with endless smiles. Of course I hope I’m the reason behind them, but even still—seeing those smiles is more than enough.”
Taehyung giggles and brings a hand to cover his mouth, and Yoongi finds himself grinning when he goes to pull the hand away. He wants—no, he needs an unobstructed view. The memories he’ll cling to fifty years from now are counting on this.
“You’re my everything, hyung. I know you talk all the time about how you love watching me run free and all that, and how that inspires you to do so, too. But I don’t think you understand how much I rely on you to be able to do that. Sure, I can go about doing whatever the hell I want. But you’re the one who’s always with me and automatically moving to protect me. If the world is the burn, you’re the balm that takes the pain away.
“For a long time I watched you sit and stew over the thought that you were, in essence, everything depraved in this world. But hyung. You broke through that—you did. And being able to witness all of that made me realize how strong you are. How much I want to be like you when I grow up.”
Yoongi chuckles wetly and goes to brush Taehyung’s tears away. They slide down his cheeks like rain droplets streaming down a windowpane, and Yoongi wishes he could bottle them up and keep them with him always.
Sometimes Yoongi wishes he were more of a visual artist like Taehyung so he could convey to the world how he sees love, how he sees him. For now he’s satisfied with his never-ending quest of searching far and wide for the perfect string of letters and words to describe his forever person. If his words are the only form of worship he has to offer, he’ll gladly place metaphor after metaphor at the altar he’s built for one Kim Taehyung.
“You refuse to admit it, but you make me better. You think I hung the stars or something, but so much of that is thanks to you grounding me and believing in me when I couldn't even do it myself.
“Thank you for seeing me, for accepting me, and most of all for loving me. There’s never been a day where I wondered how you felt about me, and even something like that adds to the safety and comfort I feel whenever you’re around. You give me the space to be the realest version of me. So in our next twenty, fifty, seventy years together…I promise to be that for you, too.”
Taehyung’s eyes are rimmed with red and Yoongi acts purely on instinct, pressing his forehead against Taehyung’s. From this close, he can see the tangle of wet eyelashes trying their utmost to stick to the delicate folds of skin below his eyes. When Taehyung finally meets his gaze head on, a little surprised and a lot in love, Yoongi can pinpoint the exact moment he sees Taehyung’s pupils dilate, wanting to drink in his fill.
You are that for me, Yoongi wants so badly to say. You’re already so much more than anything I could ever ask for or imagine.
But he doesn’t, instead allowing Taehyung’s words the opportunity to fully expand and grow and stretch its limbs in his chest. He feels it when he inhales, feels it when he exhales, can smell it in the lingering traces of lotion on Taehyung’s skin.
Yoongi is marrying this boy. Right now. The boy he’s in love with, the boy who makes him see the world in technicolor when all he’s ever known is gray—that boy is saying he wants to be Yoongi’s safe space as if he hasn’t been exactly that for years on end already.
Taehyung sniffles and is the first to break contact, pulling away before thinking better of it. He drops a chaste kiss to Yoongi’s lips and Yoongi tries his best to deepen it until he feels Taehyung smirk. The smug bastard. Yoongi’s marrying him.
“I did well, right?” Taehyung asks, and Yoongi takes back everything he’s just thought.
“My best boy,” Yoongi replies, tucking a stray hair behind Taehyung’s ear. His hair is growing long past the tips of his ears, still wavy and pliant from the perm he’d gotten only a few months ago.
Taehyung hums, pleased at the pet name. If everyone and their mother call Yoongi a kitten, they’d be surprised to see how much his counterpart embodies the title, too.
“Your turn, hyung,” Taehyung says happily, lips stretching into a big, boxy smile even with tear tracks staining their way down his cheeks. Yoongi can’t get enough of him.
After how vulnerable Taehyung was with him, Yoongi thinks he owes it to him to be brave for once, too.
“Taehyung-ah!” Yoongi yells, smiling as he hears his own voice echo over, over, and over again. This is the very thing he wishes he could do every moment of every day, and it feels good to let the ever-present reveries of his heart finally overflow.
If Yoongi’s being honest, he expected to feel foolish doing this when Taehyung first suggested it. He supposed it’d be better without anyone around to witness their mischief, but now he wishes someone, anyone, would walk by and acknowledge the significance of what’s happening in this moment in time.
“I guess it’s a relief that I can’t remember what life without you is like because all I recall from that time is that it was dark and void of color,” Yoongi says in one sweeping breath.
He slows down when he feels Taehyung run his thumb across his palm, as if he’s reminding Yoongi that if he’s feeling that time is of the essence, they still have all of it left in the world.
Right now, the world is theirs to own.
“You, though,” Yoongi continues, voice beginning to waver with emotion. “You.”
Yoongi pauses to take a breath. He knows that despite not yet finishing the official vows he’s been writing for their formal wedding, he still wants his words now to carry that same weight. Everything he does, everything he is, is for Kim Taehyung. He wishes he had the words to convey exactly that.
“You transform the mundane into something to pay attention to. It’s like you live wholly and completely as you are, and what a privilege it is to be on that ride with you.
“You know better than anyone else how much I hate Monday’s.” Yoongi allows Taehyung the chance to snort at the segue before continuing.
“Monday’s are the worst and we all know I would much rather be sleeping than doing literally anything else. But now every Monday will be good because I’ll remember every week, every day, without fail that Monday brought me to you, and that Monday joined us as one. Friday is geum-yo-il, and maybe some people think the geum, the gold in its name, really means that Fridays are golden. But being with you, in and of itself, is golden.
“Someone asked me what the point of an extra bedroom was if there was no one to share it with, and Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi says solemnly, because he needs Taehyung to understand this metaphor when he says it.
“I didn’t know an extra bedroom in my heart even existed until you came along. You found that extra door and flung it open, and if it wasn’t for you…if it wasn’t for you, my Taehyungie, I would’ve missed out on so much love I didn’t even know I was capable of giving.”
Yoongi clears his throat. If he doesn’t do it now, he’ll be a blubbering mess by the time he’s done.
“You are light and you are love. You’re everything good this world has to offer, and everything this world strives to be each and every day. I look at you and I see everything I wish my past had been, everything my present is now, and everything I hope my future is full of.
“If the world ended today, I’d die a happy man knowing I got to fight with you by my side. But more than anything, I’m so, so grateful to you for investing and pouring your love into me to bring out the best of me when I couldn’t do it on my own. You make me better—you, Kim Taehyung. I don’t think you understand just how good I’ve got it, having the honor to spend the rest of my life with someone like you.”
Taehyung is completely sobbing by this point, a blubbering mess barely able to speak, let alone breathe. Big, shuddering sobs wrack his entire body, and Yoongi has no idea how the universe found him a man as sweet and soft-hearted as his Taehyung-ie.
“Taehyung-ah,” he calls, and his husband (god, his husband) shakes his head, unwilling to look at him.
Yoongi gently lifts Taehyung’s hand off his face and drinks in the sight that beholds him. Taehyung tries everything to keep from looking at Yoongi, biting his lip as his eyes dart from left to right, up down, before submitting to its gut desire to look at him.
Taehyung hates others seeing him cry, claiming his face malfunctions and doesn’t look very beautiful when it happens. Yoongi hopes the kisses he brushes across each of his knuckles help the younger man hear exactly what Yoongi is trying to say: You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“My Taehyung-ie, my precious sweetheart,” Yoongi murmurs, this time out loud.
Taehyung gasps from the force of his sobs and of course, Yoongi takes him in his arms and lets the man continue to his heart’s content, smoothing a hand up and down his back.
That’s how the two newlyweds stand for a bit, and Yoongi basks in being able to hold his boy under the morning light as the world wakes up around them. From his vantage point with his head sitting right over Taehyung’s shoulder, he can see deep orange glow spreading from the east. The Namsan tower stands proudly in the distance and Yoongi silently thanks it for guarding their love.
As Taehyung’s cries slow to a hiccup, Yoongi takes the opportunity to squeeze him extra tight, as if he’s afraid Taehyung will fade into thin air once the sun sits comfortably at its highest point. He can’t believe this husband of his is real, is shaking in his arms, is finally pulling loose of Yoongi’s hold on him.
Yoongi wipes away the sheath of tears that have made their way all across Taehyung’s face. In his heart he thanks every single one of them for coming to life and witnessing the beauty of their love, of their marriage.
“No need to worry, sweetheart,” he assures. “It’s just us here. You’re safe.”
Taehyung shivers and bites his lip before choosing to smile once again.
“I love you so much, hyung,” he repeats for the millionth time that day.
It’s still so early in the morning, but Yoongi smiles right back. “Baby, I love you to the ends of the earth and all the way back.”
The smile Taehyung returns to him is dazzling.
“Hyung,” Taehyung finally giggles, and Yoongi finds himself grinning right back without hesitation. They stare at each other for a few breaths, the chill of the autumn air and soft chirps of birds around them their only companions.
“What, baby?”
“We’re husbands now. You’re my spouse.”
The words barely process in Yoongi’s brain before he blurts out, “God, that’s so hot.”
Taehyung honest to God cackles.
Yoongi doesn’t want to admit it, but his husband is right. Something happy and content spreads through his belly and Yoongi’s skin prickles with goosebumps at the thought.
Taehyung is his spouse. Taehyung, the boy who walks around with his heart on his sleeve and literal stars in his eyes, has chosen Min Yoongi of all people to settle down with for the rest of his life. Taehyung loves him.
And Yoongi loves him right back, so much he thinks he might burst with it.
“You realize we still have to go through with our actual wedding, right?” Yoongi asks when they’re back in the car. “Jin hyung would kill us if we canceled now.”
Taehyung fixes his fiance—no, his husband—with a sharp look. “Who said I didn’t want to go through with that wedding too?”
“You’re such a brat,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, loud enough for his spouse to hear.
He smiles. Taehyung is his spouse now.
“I’m your brat, which means you have to do this for me. Now you can brag to all our friends about how you don’t have any concept of time anymore considering every day’s a Monday now.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “What happened to my beautiful teeth and wanting to see me smile for the rest of time, huh? We literally got married five minutes ago, how the hell do I request a refund?”
Taehyung giggles and bites his lip, otherwise remaining silent. Despite being an inch taller than Yoongi, he looks up at him from beneath his dark, dark lashes, and Yoongi gulps.
“Getting married was fun, hyung,” Taehyung says after a beat. “Let’s do it again.”
Yoongi softens.
“Every day, Taehyung-ah. Every day is a good one when you’re involved. All’s well that ends well to end up with you, as some might say.”
A beat. A kiss dropped to Yoongi’s temple. A squeeze of Taehyung’s hand as it engulfs Yoongi’s smaller one.
A pause, before Taehyung suddenly shouts:
“What the fuck, hyung. You said all that sappy stuff in your vows then conveniently left Taylor for after? I’m humbly requesting a divorce.”
And then it’s Yoongi’s turn to laugh and pull Taehyung close and whisper an apology meant only for his ears.
Taehyung’s answer is muffled by Yoongi’s lips meeting his.