Chapter Text
Taehyung let out a long, weighty sigh before setting his beer bottle aside. He closed his eyes for a moment and let his head fall back. They burned upon contact, and he squeezed them tightly, trying to shake off the restlessness climbing up his neck.
The cold, dry air of early December seeped beneath his coat, chilling him to the bone since he had closed the door behind him.
Winter had fallen over Seoul like a held breath, yet Taehyung had always loved it. There was something intoxicating in its nostalgia, a melancholy that resonated with him, and he gladly let it bite at his skin.
For that reason, he didn’t hesitate to slip out into his friend’s backyard the moment the opportunity arose. The air smelled of alcohol, damp wood, and freshly cut grass. From there, he could still hear the electrifying laughter and intrusive music—one of his favorite songs, poorly sung by Jimin and Hoseok, who ruined it proudly.
They were celebrating Seokjin’s twenty-fourth birthday. What had been planned as a small gathering of close friends had unintentionally become a kind of party, filled with familiar faces and carefree laughter.
The birthday boy was relaxed, chatting with everyone. Namjoon laughed with Jin’s childhood friends as if he had known them all his life, and even Yoongi couldn’t stop smiling while shyly shaking his head at his friends’ karaoke attempts.
Happiness settled into the air in a sublime, perfectly delicate way, almost unreal. It had been a great year for everyone, both personally and professionally. Their album Wings had won the Best Album of the Year award, and their name was beginning to resonate strongly outside Korea.
Taehyung knew it, yet his body still hadn’t fully reacted to the magnitude of it all. His sacrifice and relentless effort were paying off, and more than once the seven of them had found themselves looking at each other with eyes full of tears, emotion stealing any words that could define what they felt.
The end of the year fit perfectly, with Christmas spirit filling the streets and the promise of a soon-to-come break to visit their families before the next tour. Taehyung felt fulfilled. He spent much of the night watching his friends, imprinting their smiles and laughter in his memory, wishing to turn them into eternal images.
But at the edge of that dazzling happiness, a burn began to rise in his stomach. A nervousness that formed a knot in his throat, a tension that made it hard to breathe, forcing him to step away from the party. To escape, though he didn’t know exactly from what.
Just to take a slow, agonizing step into a tautness that devoured him from the inside.
When the clock struck quarter past three in the morning, the alcohol began to sharpen his senses silently and provocatively in that dimly lit room—
And then he felt it more strongly.
That gaze, from round, bright eyes at a distance, became an irresistible weight. It disarmed him, intimidated him, and above all, terrified him. That familiar scent swept through his senses, erasing any coherent thought.
He felt that if he allowed himself to admire it a moment longer, he might lose his mind. He could lose control and commit the actions that his dreams had marked as an indelible prophecy.
His escape to the backyard hadn’t been planned, but it was entirely necessary. It helped him stabilize and touch the ground for a moment. Searching for an immediate distraction, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one without hesitation.
The lighter hesitated. The flame flickered before his eyes for a second before going out, and Taehyung sighed wearily. He tried again, this time succeeding. He inhaled, letting the smoke scratch his throat before releasing it under the stars twinkling above him.
The icy air fogged his breath, and for a moment, all he heard was his own inhalation.
Even though everything felt brighter than ever, and his mood should have matched it, Taehyung found himself in a completely opposite mental landscape, buried deep within his own enigma.
He felt a tingling in his limbs. An itch in his chest urged him to give in to his need and recklessness, to reach for something entirely forbidden, something beyond any courage he possessed.
His head wouldn’t stop spinning, fearing that his feet were tied to heavy sacks that would drag him down when he least expected it. Foolishness grew inside him in jagged, staccato bursts, threatening to explode before his face and destroy everything he loved.
The problem that really affected him and drove him crazy was not that, thanks to all the adversities and victories they had faced as a group, he loved and admired each of his teammates immensely, forming an unbreakable bond.
The thing was, with one of them, it wasn’t just that he cared more than before—his feelings had long since shattered every barrier, and that terrified him to death.
And as if the universe decided to mock him outright, that voice slipped into the night.
Soft, familiar, warm, freezing his heart for a moment.
“Tae?”
Taehyung turned instantly, the cigarette trembling between his fingers. Jungkook stood by the door, still, with a smile that seemed unaware of the weight of the world.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, closing the door behind him.
Taehyung opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He lowered his gaze. Jungkook watched him for another second before naturally approaching and sitting beside him on the porch steps.
The space between them was minimal. He could feel the heat Jungkook radiated through layers of clothing, in contrast to his own frozen limbs.
Taehyung inhaled deeply before daring to turn his head toward him. Jungkook was watching, head slightly tilted, eyes wide, as if trying to read him. Nerves slid through his body, and he forced himself to break the silence before his thoughts spilled over.
“Jin hyung doesn’t let me smoke inside,” he explained simply. He took another drag and exhaled the smoke away from Jungkook.
Jungkook chuckled softly, eyes never leaving his.
“He doesn’t let us come to his backyard either, and yet, here you are.”
“He’s crazy,” Taehyung defended. “What’s the point of having a backyard if you don’t want anyone on the grass?”
“I don’t know. He’s old now,” Jungkook replied with a small smile, shifting his arm unconsciously, brushing against his. “It’s cold here.”
“You didn’t have to follow me, you know that?”
“It’s what I always do,” Jungkook shrugged.
Silence settled between them. Taehyung watched their breaths mingle in the cold air. Then he looked up and met his gaze. Jungkook’s breathing was heavy and charged; his chest moved beneath his sweater, under the moonlight, sending shivers down his spine.
The unease remained, sending warning signals every time Jungkook blinked or slowly parted his lips, revealing a smile Taehyung longed to decipher. But he couldn’t focus on that, not with his presence so close, deliberately inviting him into his warmth. Taehyung was far too weak to resist.
So he shoved everything under the rug and let himself admire Jungkook’s messy black hair, usually falling straight across his forehead. His eyes shone that night, and his mouth stayed slightly open, as if words were about to escape.
“Are you drunk?” he asked softly, with a hint of teasing. Jungkook held his gaze.
“No,” he shook his head slowly, trying to suppress a playful smile.
Taehyung frowned, rolling his eyes.
“Are you sure? I think I saw you doing shots with Jimin.”
“Me?” Jungkook feigned confusion. “I think you saw wrong.”
Then he reached for the cigarette, stealing it from between his fingers. Their arms brushed for a moment, and Taehyung shivered.
“If any of them see you smoking, they’ll yell at me.”
“And they’ll yell at me for stepping on the grass. We’re in this together,” Jungkook replied, amused.
Jungkook ran his tongue over his lower lip, and Taehyung followed the motion with his eyes before looking away quickly. He scratched his neck nervously and leaned slightly back, supporting himself with his arms.
“As you say, drunk,” he shook his head, breathing deeply, looking anywhere but at the boy beside him.
Silence returned, calmer now. They shared the cigarette until it was finished and then tossed the butt. Music drifted from inside, laughter echoing. Taehyung had no idea what Jungkook was thinking, but neither seemed to mind.
Though he seemed calm, Taehyung’s body trembled each time their legs brushed. He wanted to speak, to say something banal, anything to step back from that line he had already crossed, convincing himself all was still the same.
But before he could, Jungkook spoke.
“I’m happy, you know?” he said, tilting his head slightly toward him. “Everything’s fine… and I just want it to stay that way.” He smiled, but for some reason, the smile took a moment to reach his eyes.
Taehyung returned it, sadly, the sorrow twisting inside him like a whirlpool.
“Yes… I understand what you mean,” he finally replied after a few seconds.
“I lied, hyung. I’m drunk,” Jungkook confessed, resting his face on one hand, closing his eyes slowly. Taehyung laughed, the sound rising from his chest, and Jungkook opened them again.
“Don’t tell me.”
“And Jimin gave me a piece of brownie, so I think I’m high too.”
“Oh, God,” Taehyung covered his face, hiding his laugh.
“So you’ll have to take me home,” Jungkook joked, adjusting the collar of his sweater, knowing he would.
“That’s what I always do,” Taehyung whispered, barely audible, as if no one else could hear.
But just when he thought he could distract himself and regain control of his body, ignoring the shadow reflected in all the unspoken words, Jungkook leaned gently toward him. The protective distance vanished.
The air escaped. Tension consumed him; he felt his pulse hammer in his neck, waiting for what he would do next.
When Jungkook finally rested his head on his shoulder, hair tickling his neck, scent enveloping him, Taehyung could only pray that he didn’t notice the quickened breath or the trembling hands.
“It’s not so cold anymore,” Jungkook murmured, oblivious to the chaos he left in Taehyung with every word.
And that was when he finally understood. Taehyung lifted his gaze to the icy sky and closed his eyes for a moment. The certainty that Jungkook was still there, so near and inevitable as their shared breath, filled him with a mix of fear and desire he could no longer contain.
He forced himself to believe, if only for a moment, that he could deceive himself. That the tremor in his chest was just alcohol, the cold, or the long night. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t.
He could lie to himself all he wanted, but he had already fallen face-first into an undeniable truth. One he was willing to bury underground, as if carrying a cross and betraying his own stage.
“Oh, Jungkook. What am I going to do with you?” he exclaimed, pretending casualness, but his voice cracked on the last word. He never knew if Jungkook noticed.
Even when Jin discovered them, yelling about cigarette butts on the grass and forcing them back inside, Jungkook gave him one last look before crossing the door. And in that glance—so his, so unique—Taehyung understood that something inside him would never return to its place.
Because he knew Jungkook better than anyone, and that made him dangerous. He knew when he was hungry, when he got nervous before singing, and when he lied about being tired. They had shared joys, misfortunes, days, nights, and years together.
He was aware that, after admitting his feelings, there would be no turning back. Not while Jungkook was around. Not while he couldn’t control what he felt.
And that night, watching him smirk with the others under the warm lights of the living room, Taehyung understood that what he felt had no name, no destination.
It had no place in his world, no permission.
Only existence.
And that was enough to know he was doomed every time, from afar, Jungkook’s eyes met his.