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They didn't see each other for a week or two. And maybe they shouldn't have seen one another ever again. Maybe that would have been better. (Indeed, it would have been, but life gives a shit about what would have been better. It always does). So Jimin begged Taehyung to give spiritual counsel to him while he was going to meet Yoongi at Kim's Diner - Seokjin had initialized the meeting. And Kim Taehyung's always been a good and understanding friend – and Jimin's crush was pretty obvious.
He told Jeongguk that day that he would eat lunch with Jimin, so he wouldn't have to wait for him at home. And Jeongguk – as the good and understanding boyfriend he was – said it was fine. Taehyung and Jimin were pretty busy so he was absolutely okay with his two best friends meeting. Jeongguk didn't need to know that Yoongi was coming. And he also didn't need to know how excited Taehyung was about the lunch. Jeongguk didn't ask so Taehyung didn't lie. He just didn't tell the whole truth. Relationships consisted of half-truths and half-lies. They kept them going. They were important. And maybe that was the lie.
This morning Taehyung was waked by Jeongguk shifting next to him. Taehyung felt the mattress sinking. His waist where Jeongguk's arm had been lying was cold. He scrunched his nose at the loss of his boyfriend's warmth. Rolled on his side. Jeongguk's scent stuck on the sheets and Taehyung couldn't help but inhale the scent of roughness and sex, overripe maturity and something that belonged to Jeongguk. Something that reminded Taehyung of him. Something comforting and familiar.
“Tae?”, Jeongguk whispered questioning,“Did I wake you?” His voice was a bit raspy from sleeping. It always was. After all the mornings they had shared the same bed Taehyung knew that Jeongguk was used to get up pretty early but he loved sleeping late at Sundays. Curled up against Taehyung, nose buried in his neck, breath tickling the elder. These were the days where they would have time to make breakfast with eggs and ham, two cups of coffee – or hot chocolate – and a lot of giggling and holding hands on the table. These were the days where Taehyung was reminded why he had given up his own apartment to move in together with Jeongguk. These were the days where Taehyung said “I love you” and blushed. And Jeongguk replied:“I love you, too.”
Taehyung mumbled something inaudible and Jeongguk just said:“I'm sorry. Just go on sleeping.” He stroked his forehead softly, caressing and Taehyung leaned almost automatically into the touch, seeking for the warmth of the other man.
Today wasn't a day where they would have time for each other. Taehyung had lectures this afternoon, after the meeting at Kim's Diner. And Jeongguk would have dance practice. The practices always lasted until 9pm and the way home took its time. When Jeongguk was back Taehyung was already asleep.
“Love you”, Taehyung murmured. His voice was strained with tiredness and his eyes were heavy. “Love you, too. Don't overhear your alarm.” - “I won't.” Jeongguk left with a light kiss on Taehyung's cheek and then it was quiet.
The silence within the noise deafening, only the cars far away audible and the noises humans made. Taehyung didn't like the silence. Judging and heavy. Why didn't you tell him? and He would be disappointed . But in the end it didn't matter and he slept until his alarm woke him.
It was noon, when Taehyung was on his way to Kim’s Diner. You’d almost think after two weeks the memory of Yoongi was already faded away - at least a bit. But Taehyung could have described the hands of the elder with an embarrassing variety of details he had memorised when he first had met Yoongi. The light shade of pink of his nails. The intensity of his veins when he grabbed for something. The way his palm faded into his wrist, pale. Every bone visible through the almost invisible layer of skin that was stretched over his hands. Taehyung also remembered his voice. The hard edges. Sharp enough to cut through his skin. To make Taehyung bleed . Indeed, he did. In the end at least.
But Taehyung didn’t spare a single thought about his affection towards Yoongi. Because everyone knew the feeling of deep affection. That kind of affection that started deep inside their belly and started to crawl into every inch of their body. Anyway, someday it would be gone. So it didn’t matter how much Taehyung was affected by a man he barely knew. And maybe because of the knowledge that Taehyung didn’t know Yoongi properly and he had a boyfriend he loved not just because of his great hands he didn’t get alarmed. Back then. It would be gone. Soon. That was what Taehyung convinced himself of.
Jimin was early. Of course he was. And he seemed like he was about to hyperventilate if not someone would tell him that everything was okay. Anyway he seemed a lot better than the last time Taehyung and Jeongguk had visited him to bring some broth from Seokjin and tell him about the movie night.
“I think I’m gonna die”, was what Jimin said instead of a greeting. “I’m also very pleased to see you again”, Taehyung replied with a wide grin. He squeezed his arms tightly around the other and giggled while Jimin continued:“I’m being serious, Tae.”
Taehyung made a step backwards so he could face Jimin. His brown hair was tousled as if he had ran his fingers through it a lot the last few minutes. “You’re not even trying to hide your crush. How come I’ve never heard of Yoongi”, Taehyung asked and grinned at his best friend. “Why should I tell you about how lonely and desperate I’m crushing on someone that barely takes notice of me?”
“Quite true”, Taehyung said and Jimin pouted. “You could at least try to cheer me up!” - “Nah, don’t wanna.” Jimin crossed the arms in front of his chest and curled his lips into a deeper pout:“Why am I even hanging out with you?”
Taehyung’s smile grew wider. “Because you love me, Jiminie!” He drew Jimin into a tight hug and pecked on his cheek. Jimin tried to wriggle out of Taehyung’s grip, but couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous Taehyung was. Taehyung was right: Jimin loved him - platonically. They were best friends since- always.
They barely had calmed down when Taehyung caught a glimpse of Yoongi. In novels there’s always written how the world stands still for a while as soon as the true lover of the main character appears. How everyone’s holding their breath and can’t help but stare at this ridiculously perfect human. In novels the characters always fall for each other from the first moment on. But Taehyung’s world didn’t stand still when Yoongi appeared - she only rotated a bit slower. He didn’t hold his breath - let alone Jimin -, but saying that he didn’t stare would have been a lie. Saying that Taehyung didn’t fall at least a bit for the dark lumberjack shirt, the ripped jeans and the oh-so-fucked-up expression on his face would have been a lie. And saying that Taehyung didn’t understand why Jimin crushed on Yoongi would have been so much of a lie that saying it alone would have been a shame so big that no one could bear telling it.
Taehyung didn’t stare shamelessly. He knew he wasn’t supposed to stare at the crush of his best friend. And he knew he wasn’t supposed to stare at a man that wasn’t Jeongguk.
Later he would say that he couldn’t help it. And anyway; it was Jimin’s fault. He had initialized everything. Or Yoongi’s. Yoongi’s fault. Because he wore those pants that pointed out his slender legs and waist. Because he wore this shirt that showed off his pale collarbones. Because Yoongi existed and he dared to rush into Taehyung’s life and ruin everything he and Jeongguk had built up. It was all alone Yoongi’s fault. Another, desperate conviction.
Taehyung and Jimin greeted Yoongi awkwardly, a bit clumsy, but it didn’t take Taehyung long to take the situation under control. He’s always been good at making friends. At asking the right questions. But Yoongi, in fact, wasn’t easy to talk to. He was that kind of people that was making a huge mystery of their childhood, their interests. Taehyung had never understood them. Has always been frankly towards everyone that seemed to be a human.
And maybe it was the way Yoongi distinguished from Taehyung. Or the way he clicked his tongue. How he licked his lips, averted his gaze from his counterpart almost sinfully. There were a lot of things that made Taehyung’s affection towards Yoongi grow. Jimin didn’t notice, though.
While they were sitting around the too-small table in the too-sticky diner Taehyung would notice the way Jimin looked at Yoongi. He didn’t stare shamelessly either. Prudently. Shyly. As a schoolgirl in love would look at her crush. Too much afraid of what would happen if the other would notice the yearning glances. Taehyung thought that Jimin was afraid. Taehyung thought that Jimin wouldn’t have the courage to confess to Yoongi. Not because he was jealous but because he knew Jimin well enough to tell. (And anyway: there was no reason to be jealous, Taehyung - after all - still had a boyfriend. It would be great if Jimin would have someone.)
What Taehyung didn’t thought was that Yoongi would be staring shamelessly. He seemed so prudent about everything - even about choosing his coffee or from which side of his sandwich he’s going to take the first bite. Not like someone that would eyefuck a taken guy. But there were a lot of things Taehyung didn’t anticipate. For example the effect Yoongi’s stare would have on him.
He was 22 - for god’s sake - and not some horny teenager that was in search of a quickie in the next corner. The gaze of dark eyes shouldn’t have affected him at all. But it did. And Taehyung hated to admit that he was aroused by it. That he felt his skin tickling, burning under Yoongi’s glance. He was interested. He clearly was. The way Yoongi undressed Taehyung only by staring at him was something Taehyung hadn’t felt for a while. It was exciting. Arousing. Everything it shouldn’t be. And Taehyung knew it. But let’s say there were a lot of things Taehyung knew were wrong but he did them anyway. Including cheating on his boyfriend of an eternity and fucking his best friend’s long-time-crush.
They didn’t, back then at Kim’s Diner. Pressure still too weak. Only teasing. Their own, little foreplay, a forebringer of the things that were about to come. And none of them was ready for this.