Chapter Text
Taehyung knows that it’s not going to end well.
He knows it the moment Jimin first suggests they go out with his new friend Namjoon to rest from all of his practice with the violin and have a drink with them. He knows it when he’s following Jimin down the busy, vibrant streets, filled to the brim with people, smells and dreams as high and unreachable as the stars that are beginning to just slightly show up in the skies. He knows it when he meets a man with glassy aviators on his face despite the absence of sun and friendly dimples on his cheeks, who introduces himself as Namjoon.
Taehyung forgets about it a little bit, but still knows it when Namjoon and Jimin drag him to the nearest “ bomb ass place where, trust me, kid, you’ll have the best meal you’ve ever had” where they pass a few bottles of beer while sharing details about their lives. Listening to the story about how Jimin met Namjoon, who turns out to be a bass guitarist of some newly popular rock band that Taehyung has never heard of, being a little too far from such kind of music, distracts him from the gut feeling that’s telling him that he’s supposed to be at his new apartment that still doesn’t feel “his”, practicing.
“I was driving home after going to that one shitty musical with Alan.” Jimin was speaking, while Taehyung still knows that tonight is not going to end well, but still takes another sip of his beer. “Remember? I told ya about it! That one musical where they barely hit the right notes and where I thought I was gonna fucking fall asleep. And so, imagine this: I’m driving down some God-forgotten street, jus’ ‘cause I decided to cut the path through and I see a man, sitting down on the ground who’s clearly wasted as fuck and!” Jimin makes a pause and raises his index finger with Namjoon trying not to die from laughter behind him, “I realize that I know his face from before! Not only do I know him, I admire him ‘cause it’s Kim fucking Namjoon , bass guitarist of the Bedlam! I didn’t think a single second once I recognized him before asking if he needed a lift!”
Namjoon bursts out in laughter, remembering how ridiculous their encounter was, but all Taehyung can do is laugh at how oblivious he is to this band and who the fuck could name a group that?
“That’s how it started,” Namjoon summed Jimin’s story up, fixing his aviators, which are still glued to the brim of his nose. “Ain’t it funny? A professional ballet dancer and a rock guitarist being best friends?”
“The crazier the better,” Taehyung says with a smile, which can’t leave his face when such live, burning-with-youth people are by his side.
“ Of course , you’ve never heard of the Bedlam,” Jimin guesses with a tint of the teasing yet friendly annoyance in his voice that makes Taehyung laugh and nod in reply. “Am I right?”
“We’re not so popular that the whole world knows us,” Namjoon interrupts Jimin, but the dancer just rolls his eyes.
“But you literally shook all of New York with your new album! Your songs are everywhere and all girls’ heads are only filled with dreaming about how you notice them in the crowd!” Jimin exclaims a little louder than needed as a few heads from the other tables turned towards him. “Remember my words, you guys will take over the world!”
“I’m sorry, I’m not very familiar with rock music,” Taehyung tells Namjoon, his shy introverted nature taking over him without any warning and forcing an apology out of his throat.
“That’s understandable for a professional violinist.” Namjoon gives him such a warm comforting smile that makes Taehyung feel at ease again “You’re not forced to listen to it.”
“You’re missing out on so much though.” Jimin leans back in his chair, sending another French fry into his mouth, a small drop of ketchup left on his bottom lip. “Vivaldi, Mozart, and others are nice, but don’t you grow tired of them?”
Taehyung shakes his head shyly without saying anything, but his thoughts are raging about how one possibly gets tired of listening to pieces of eternity?
“Jimin, everybody has their own preferences, let the kid be.” The wild rock guitarist, who suddenly turns into someone like a wise professor with an academic degree somewhere from an Ivy League with a quiet yet respectable life, calms the ballet dancer down.
Taehyung almost forgets about the little warning that appeared in his head ever since the beginning of this evening when, suddenly, Jimin jumps on his chair as if he was hit with a high voltage.
“Oh, Joonie!” he exclaims, catching the attention of the people surrounding them again, “Haven’t you said that a friend of yours is throwing a party a few blocks away?”
Taehyung suddenly feels sober again and he doesn’t like it.
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure we can still go there,” Namjoon nods, fixing his aviators that are sliding down once again. “Frank has the best parties and he’d love it if I bring friends.”
“Hey, Tae, wanna have more fun tonight?” Jimin has now turned full-body to him, “It’s better than staying all alone on a Friday night.”
He has to say no.
He has never been so sure in his entire life like he is right now in the fact that it’s not going to end well.
He knows it all…
Yet somehow, he still ends up strolling down 58th street with Jimin’s loud voice and Namjoon’s glassy aviators accompanying him to the party of some unknown Frank, where they are very likely to meet Namjoon’s band mates Jungkook, Seokjin and Yoongi but, sadly, not Hoseok who is staying at home tonight to fuck his new girlfriend, Lindsey, who Namjoon suspects to be a porn model.
Taehyung’s proudly walking towards something that will surely bring him too many troubles for the poor beating muscle under his sternum, but he can’t think of such implications right now when he has youth and irresponsibility in his head instead of brains.
Because when you’re a 23 year old ambitious and promising violinist who has just graduated out of the musical conservatory, who has just moved to New York after receiving a very promising proposition a month ago with friends by his sides, alcohol in his veins, and the noises of the summer of 1976 filling the night air around you, you can’t exactly think straight.
That’s how Taehyung ends up in a stuffed apartment on the top floor of one of the newly built Manhattan skyscrapers where the air smells like sweat, alcohol and weed. People are all too laid back, loud and beaming with life and love for their time and the music is what he never listens to in his free time, but he surprises himself when he realizes he likes that all of these elements are what create his present. Somehow, brought together, they harmonize unbelievably well and make him remember that despite having an old weary soul, he’s actually just at the beginning of his life’s journey.
He gets a bottle of he-doesn’t-even-look-what-it-is in his hand before he even meets the owner of this madness, aka Frank, who turns out to be a head shorter than Taehyung even though he’s nearly 8 years older than him. Frank has messy hair, an obnoxiously bright purple shirt, and a pinch of white powder under his nose, which Taehyung decides not to point at.
When Frank disappears in the dancing crowd, Namjoon and Jimin immediately pull Taehyung further into the apartment where he meets Seokjin, the master of keyboard in the Bedlam.
“Oh, new blood!” He grins once he’s introduced to Taehyung, “It’s so refreshing!”
“Nice to meet you.” At this point, Taehyung is too drunk to care if he looks weird or out of place at a bohemian bacchanalia of mixed weed, rock ‘n roll, and the spirit of youth in his white shirt, plain brown pants and an attitude of a shy straight-A student.
He likes Seokjin. He likes his leopard shirt, his earrings, his Hollywood smile and even his dilated pupils—they are all very welcoming and friendly and make the violinist forget that he hasn’t just met this man a few minutes ago.
But nothing can make him forget about something bad that’s about to happen.
“Where’s Kook?” Namjoon has to yell at the top of his lungs so that Seokjin could hear him
“No fucking idea.” Seokjin shrugs his shoulders, trying to scream louder than the cheesy song. “Was talking to Jenny last time I saw him, but I don’t know where the motherfucker is now.”
“And Yoongi?”
“Smoking pot in the bedroom. Probably in the clouds right now, so I wouldn’t suggest bothering him.”
“Jungkook and Yoongi are the lead guitars and songwriters.” Jimin uses the moment to explain it to Taehyung, “They are the ones who started the band.”
“Yoongi is the head, Jungkook is the heart.” Seokjin says, sheer mischief spilling from his grin. “That explains why Jungkook is so impulsive and reckless.”
“Jungkook is also the reason why your band is constantly in the center of everyone’s attention,” Jimin adds, “Whether it’s for the good or bad.”
Taehyung takes a sip of the unknown drink in his hand, instantly realizing that it’s a lot stronger than the beer he was drinking with Namjoon and Jimin an hour earlier, but he likes how the liquid burns his throat and how foggy his head feels now.
It’s his first time getting this drunk. It’s his first time being at such a wild gathering, his first time being surrounded by the people that his overly-strict parents always warned him about, his first time not being at home at such late night hours and his first time tasting real youth.
And he loves it.
Fucking loves it.
He doesn’t even fight when Jimin, Namjoon, and Seokjin pull him to the dance floor even though it’s his first time hearing this song and he has never even liked crowded places that much. He lets himself go, jumps and repeats the movements of his friends awkwardly, but he’s so drunk on being free that he doesn’t even care about how he looks in the eyes of other people. Taehyung just wants to enjoy this night and think about the consequences tomorrow.
For once, he doesn’t want to think about anything. He just wants to feel.
Some more alcohol, catchy pop songs, and an unknown amount of time later, Taehyung starts feeling a little tired. The apartment is very stuffy and too filled with cigarette smoke and, in addition, the violinist is drained from dancing so much so he decides to take a saving breath of fresh air.
Jimin, Namjoon, and Seokjin had disappeared in the kitchen after saying that they were about to prepare tequila shots, but he’s too lazy and drunk to waste his energy on walking all the way to the kitchen to find them and say where he’s heading. He’ll find them later.
Taehyung forgets about his gut feeling and decides to go out on the fire escape, which seems to be a good idea when judged with alcohol in his veins.
The party noises are left inside. The boy sits on the stairs, admiring the blinding lights of the roaring never-sleeping city right underneath him that so many dreamers want to conquer with their ambitions and talent. He sobers up a little bit from the cool night breeze after the summer heat left with the last sunset rays.
Taehyung thinks that, perhaps, if his “perfect” mother knew where he is, who he is with, and what state he is in, she’d be absolutely enraged, but this thought only makes him smile wider; after being taught to be good and decent his whole life, he falls in love with doing everything that was once “forbidden” for him.
He feels alive for the first time.
Remember this date because the real, unmasked Kim Taehyung, 23 years of age, has finally been born.
The newborn violinist jumps in his place in the very next instant, his flow of thoughts rudely interrupted by the footsteps on that lonely fire escape.
When Taehyung raises his eyes to the intruder, he’s suddenly drowned in the gut feeling that he shouldn’t have forgotten about.
“It’s not going to end well,” he thinks when he looks at a man, about his age, who has raven locks embroidered with chaos and trouble, dark eyes filled with thunderstorms and the aura of someone too burdened with power for his age. He has a black shirt with the first buttons of it undone, equally black leather pants, massive boots and tattoos covering his arms and neck that he wears like scars gained on the battlefield.
The man doesn’t notice Taehyung at first, which makes the latter feel as if he’s peeking on something that shouldn’t have been exposed to his eyes, but he’s too bewitched with the intruder to look away.
The stranger has a frown on his face when he takes a pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket of his pants as well as lighter and lights up a cigarette.
Taehyung knows that he has to run away while he still can.
He does.
But the man looks so dark and threatening, as if he has storms and hurricanes trapped inside of him that give him enough strength to take a sword and fight a whole legion in this very instant despite obviously being tired from something unknown to Taehyung.
That’s how the end of the world looks when it’s trapped in human form.
The man brushes his hair backwards and Taehyung thinks that he could be a son of Ares.
He doesn’t have any more time to think or make himself ready when the son of the ancient God of War realizes that he’s not alone and turns his head to the side, his eyes piercing through the boy’s.
Do you remember how you felt at that moment, Kim Taehyung?
How did it feel to meet him?
Let me say it instead of you.
It only took you one look into his eyes to understand that you had just met your own defeat.
The stranger doesn’t even flinch at their sudden meeting. Of course, he’s composed and unbothered, not fidgety with unexplainable worry like Taehyung; he’s the son of Ares, what could he possibly be afraid of? Definitely not a newborn violinist.
Taehyung watches him breathe the smoke out of his lungs, meanwhile his thoughts are catapulting his head when he needs his brain to work properly the most, trying to come up with how to greet someone like him. The poor boy has words stuck in his throat that he can’t force to come up even though he knows that there’s no way that he doesn’t look weird by staring at the intruder with such wide eyes for so much time.
He even starts to fear that the stranger will get furious at him now because who the hell is he, a silly little mortal with nothing but an immortal love for music, to look into the eyes of someone so powerful and, without a doubt, menacing?
It is only the next second that the silly little mortal realizes that his fear was unnecessary.
Because he chuckles kindly and sits down on the stairs next to him, breathing out another cloud of smoke.
“Mind if I keep you some company?” The son of Ares has a pleasant hoarse voice that Taehyung expected to be deeper. “‘m kinda tired of the noise there.”
The violinist realizes that he has a voice too, buried somewhere in his throat.
“Sure.” He nods, feeling a shiver run through his soul at the feeling of this nameless man sitting so close to him that their shoulders are almost brushing against each other, “It’s why I ran away here too.”
The man chuckles again at Taehyung’s words and the latter feels less terrified.
“It seems like parties ain’t really your thing,” the stranger continues to murder his lungs with nicotine as he speaks.
“Why so?”
“No one comes to these kinds of parties dressed like they’re coming straight from the office.”
It’s Taehyung’s turn to smile, “I didn’t plan to come here, it was an unplanned decision. My friends Jimin and Namjoon dragged me here and even though I look out of place, I like it here. It’s just that I needed a bit of rest from the noise.”
The man’s eyebrows go up suddenly as he’s clearly surprised at something.
“Your friends?”
“Park Jimin and Kim Namjoon. Namjoon said that his band mates are here too and he brought us with him. Do you know them?”
The son of Ares’ lips stretch into a grin like a Cheshire Cat as his eyes light up with a realization of something.
“I bumped into them on the way here,” he explains the reason for his mysterious smile, “Namjoon said that there’s someone I really have to meet and Jimin complained about losing this person in the crowd.” He pauses to shake off the ashes of his cigarette, “They laughed about how they couldn’t find me the whole time and when they did, they couldn’t find you instead.”
The mechanisms in the violinist's brain start twirling and steaming as he slowly comes to understanding just who he is talking to.
The son of Ares finally has a name.
“Nice to meet you.” He stretches a hand to shake and attacks the boy with a smile too soft and warm that feels impossibly familiar as if it isn’t given by a complete stranger, “I’m Jeon Jungkook.”
Jeon Jungkook.
3 syllables, which feel like 3 explosions, announcing the start of the bloodiest war.
And for some bizarre reason, not only does his smile feel familiar now, but his calloused hand that Taehyung shakes does too.
More familiar than anyone else’s.
Taehyung can’t explain it.
“Kim Taehyung,” the boy introduces himself, letting go of Jungkook’s hand reluctantly.
“Kim. Tae. Hyung.” Jungkook shows his teeth when he smiles wider because of how the violinist’s name rolls on his tongue, “I haven’t heard about you before. Are you from New York?”
“I came to New York about a month ago. Was invited to play in an American Symphony Orchestra and I couldn’t lose such a chance.”
“An orchestra? What do you play?”
“Violin.”
Taehyung’s surprised at how genuinely Jungkook’s eyes spark with interest even though he himself isn’t tied to classic music even in the slightest.
He puts his cigarette out before speaking again. “You must be a prodigy to get this invitation at such a young age. Or you just look unbelievably young but if so, you must have found the fountain of youth.”
The violinist laughs at this. “I’m 23. Not that young. I’ve met more talented people than me who were a lot younger.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re just being very critical of yourself.”
A human isn’t able to keep a smile from appearing on his face when hearing praise coming from the son of Ares himself.
The boy feels like a tower, which is being bombarded mercilessly right now, his walls are crumbling down, his defense is destroyed, but somehow, Jungkook makes it feel good to be conquered.
“Where are you from?” Maybe Taehyung is wrong, but he thinks that Jungkook has turned his body towards him more.
“Born in Daegu, South Korea but my family moved to Vienna, Austria when I was 7 and I lived there until I moved here. And you?”
“Born and raised in New Jersey across the river before I ran away from home and started a band with Yoongi.”
For a second, Taehyung notices a faint tint of melancholy among the thunderstorms of Jungkook’s eyes when he speaks of his home, but it disappears in an instant like a flash of lightning.
“Do you like New York?” the son of Ares changes the topic.
“I’m not sure,” Taehyung speaks before he thinks, just like his mother taught him to never do. “Sometimes I do: it’s lively here, everyday is a new adventure and everything feels like… a kaleidoscope, y’know? It’s nice, but sometimes I…”
Taehyung shushes, not sure if he should finish the sentence until Jungkook urges him to. “Sometimes you…?”
“Sometimes I feel like this city is trying to swallow me.”
Jungkook hums and nods with understanding in his eyes.
“I know the feeling. Felt so too when I first came here.” He locked his hands between his knees as his gaze was aimed at the buildings below them.
Suddenly, Jungkook looks so exhausted as if he is an old veteran, remembering his first war.
“New York gets you high on all of its blinding neon lights, busy streets and never-ending growth, but when you’re sober, you realize that all of these skyscrapers are suffocating you. I totally know how you feel. But I’m gonna tell you something.” Jungkook leans towards Taehyung, smirking as if he’s about to share the world’s worst secret with the boy “Once you conquer this city, you’re gonna fall in love with it.”
Taehyung wants to believe it.
He wants to tell Jungkook that he will remember his words and that he will surely get used to how untamed this city is with time, but the gaze of the son of the God of War is so piercing that he can’t find any soothing lies in his mouth anymore.
“I’m not sure I’m strong enough to conquer anything.” The boy smiles melancholically, “I’m a violinist, not a soldier.”
“I’m not like you,” hangs in the air.
Jungkook looks away at the city.
The boy’s heart drops. Did he say something wrong? What is Jungkook thinking about? Why did he look away? Was this honesty of Taehyung’s, encouraged by the alcohol and the dizziness after meeting Jungkook, too much?
He doesn’t want Jungkook to leave him so soon.
“Y’know what I think?” Now that Jeon’s gaze is back on Taehyung, the latter feels a lot better and drunker.
Who gave the half-Gods the right to disarm silly little mortals with nothing but a smile?
Taehyung shakes his head silently, so bewitched that he can’t even supply a coherent answer.
“I think that you just need someone to show you that the wildness of this city isn’t as scary as it seems.”
“Show me…?”
The mischief in Jungkook’s eyes as he nods reminds Taehyung of what he’s heard about the man’s recklessness before.
Before the boy can start thinking and doubting, Jungkook doesn’t waste anymore time, just like a skillful soldier, and attacks first. He takes Taehyung’s hand like he picks up a sword and pulls the human up with him to his feet before dragging him down the fire escape.
“Wait! Where are we going?” The violinist feels anxiously thrilled and too safe while following the man so willingly.
They have to go back. Taehyung remembers that his friends must be searching for them now and it’s way too late to be heading anywhere now, but he forgets that such trivial matters mean nothing to the son of Ares, to someone half-divine.
And he also forgets that it’s not going to end well.
Silly little mortal, you’re too forgetful.
“I’ll show you that New York is more beautiful than threatening,” Jungkook assures him, pulling him lower and lower down the stairs, closer to the ground. “Take it as a new adventure.”
They run away from that party as if they are running away from Mt. Olympus to escape Ares’ rage after his son had caused trouble yet again.
“And what about our friends?”
“They’ll be fine. Jus’ trust me, alright?”
Taehyung knows that it’s not going to end well.
But he says nothing. Instead, he just holds Jungkook’s hand tighter and nods to him, making the half-God smile so happily as if he’s never known pain before.
For some reason, Jungkook doesn’t let go of Taehyung’s hand even once they’re down on the street, but the latter doesn’t say anything about it because he’s enjoying it a little more than he’s supposed to.
“I’m gonna take you somewhere,” the rockstar explains, dragging Taehyung around the corner with him, “It’s quite a popular place and I kinda have a feeling that you must have been there already, but I bet you’ve never been there at such late hours, when there are no people.”
“I haven’t been anywhere except for Times Square, Central Park, Wall Street, my home, and my work.” Taehyung doesn’t say that if it wasn’t for Jimin, this list would have cut down to his home and work only because, though it was embarrassing to admit, the violinist just genuinely felt scared of how chaotic and grand this city was.
He didn’t always have someone so extroverted and totally lacking any shame like Jimin or someone so powerful and thunderous like Jungkook and going out into these concrete jungles alone was too terrifying for him. He doesn't have a sword like Jeon to fight against all of the savage animals, hiding in these jungles, and even if he does have it, he doesn’t know how to use it yet.
“Then you’ll definitely like this place,” Jungkook replies.
There was no way the son of Ares wouldn’t have a war horse.
Jungkook’s one is a fully black Harley Davidson, shimmering in his armor, and it looks just as dangerous and wild as his owner.
“I hope you aren’t afraid to ride a motorcycle.” Jungkook takes out two helmets and hands one to Taehyung.
“I once rode on a bike with a friend of mine, back when I was living in Vienna.” The boy doesn’t talk about how awkward and disturbing that experience was because of the poor driving skills of said friend.
With Jungkook, he wants to try being a little braver than he usually is.
“Then you won’t have any problem.” Jungkook winks at him, definitely satisfied with his answer, as he’s hopping on the motorcycle and pats the seat behind him. “Wrap your hands around my waist and hold tight. Oh, and don’t forget to enjoy the view, of course!”
“Can you ride a bike though? I mean, haven’t you been drinking…?” Perhaps, these questions had to be asked before “ someone” had gotten on the motorbike and even locked his hands around the rockstar’s body as he was told to do, but “ someone” doesn’t think about it.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t drive if I wasn’t sober. Not when I have a passenger with me, at least.”
Now, here’s the funny thing that Taehyung’s mind clings to for a little longer than needed:
Back in Vienna, when Taehyung was riding a bike with a boy named Luca, the latter asked Taehyung to hold him by his shoulders, not by his waist because they didn’t know each other too well at that point and even though neither of them said anything, they clearly didn’t want things to get even more embarrassing between them than they already were.
Jungkook knows Taehyung even less than Luca did and yet he wants the boy to be so close to him.
The violinist doesn’t want to give himself too many unreasonable hopes that would leave him with nothing but a broken heart and shattered soul, he knows very well how destructive disappointment is… and he still hopes for a chance that the son of Ares himself could like him a little bit too.
Just a little bit is enough.
Jungkook’s body isn’t radiating warmth when Taehyung presses his chest to the man’s back. There’s nothing but thin shirts separating them and they aren’t doing much to protect the mortal from feeling how much force is locked up in the half-God. He can feel Jungkook’s muscles roll under his skin when he reaches for the handlebar and he can do nothing with himself when he sees how graceful the man’s tattoos look when his hands are tense.
Taehyung feels intoxicated and he doesn’t know what to do with it.
His parents warned him about drugs, cigarettes, alcohol, and criminals, but they never warned about men with tattoos, Harley Davidsons and a spirit of the most fierce warrior that had ever walked this earth.
When they take off, Taehyung learns to feel the world in smeared colors and disappearing contours because the speed blurs everything around them.
The war horse underneath them is roaring when Jungkook speeds up, making the violinist hold him tighter and laugh into his ear because everything is so breathtakingly beautiful that he can’t express it in anything but a laughter of pure delight. Taehyung feels like there’s electricity running through his veins instead of blood because of how thrilled he feels, being able to sense the speed itself and for a second, he imagines that they’re going so fast, they step out of the borders of time and space themselves.
His parents, especially his mother, would have gotten a heart attack if they saw Taehyung on a motorcycle right now.
“Are you having fun?” Jungkook asks him when they stop at a red light.
He has a smirk on his face that Taehyung can’t see but can hear instead.
“I love it!” The violinist is too excited and happy to hold in any of his emotions and, either way, for some reason he feels like he can let go of himself and be real with Jungkook. “I haven’t had this much fun ever since I came here!”
It makes Jungkook hum in content. “We’re gonna pass the Brooklyn bridge soon. Enjoy it, Tae.”
Who is the boy to disobey the order of the son of Ares?
He catches every second of their ride. Takes a new shot every millisecond with his eyes because he doesn’t want to forget anything once their adventure is over and he will have to go back to his everyday life.
Taehyung thinks that a city so fast paced like New York can only be understood when you are living and breathing as quickly as it does. He would have never realized it if Jungkook hadn’t taken him on such an insane ride across the heart of the Big Apple.
Jimin couldn’t show him how beautiful speed and recklessness can be. Nor could Namjoon or Seokjin or anyone else.
Only the son of Ares.
When they pass the Brooklyn Bridge and Taehyung looks at the river and the two sides of the city, one that they’ve left behind and the other one that is about to welcome them, he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe , New York isn’t as scary as he thought it was.
It doesn’t dare to scare the mortal violinist anymore, when he clings to the half-divine warrior more, smiling at the whistle of the wind in his ear.
The ride ends before Taehyung realizes it. He was so caught up in his newly discovered sensation that he somehow missed the moment when they had not only left the Brooklyn bridge, but when they even reached a green park zone that he hears Jungkook calling Brooklyn Bridge Park.
The rockstar parks quickly and takes off his helmet before turning back to Taehyung.
“Judging from how loudly you were laughing, you did love the ride.” His dark locks are messy, but they look so natural on him that they make the violinist worry if he looks, at least, relatively good too after such a wild ride
“Was I too loud…?”
The question makes Jungkook’s chest bubble with laughter so contagious that it forces Taehyung’s lips to stretch into a soft smile too.
“The louder you laugh the better. I want you to have fun, Taehyung,” Jungkook tells him, “And I like how your laugh sounds.”
The mentioned above Taehyung shouldn’t feel honey spilling inside of him because of these words, but he does and he doesn’t even feel guilty because of it.
Another thing he shouldn’t feel but he still does is the heat on his cheeks that appears once his eyes meet Jungkook’s, which are bright and shimmering almost as if they had stars in them… However, it is a grave mistake to take those little lights in his eyes for something as peaceful as stars.
Because Jungkook’s eyes look bright because he has lightning flashing among the black clouds of his pupils.
And Taehyung, our silly little mortal, indeed gets braver than he usually is because he can clearly see all of the threat that this man is going to bring him, but he doesn’t feel scared by it. Not even in the slightest.
“Let’s go now.” Jungkook smiles and pulls Taehyung along with him once they’ve gotten off the motorcycle.
They’re alone. It’s a miracle that there are absolutely no people except for them because in a city that never sleeps, Taehyung expected to see at least a few of the crazy ones who decided to take a walk at such a late time too.
Brooklyn Bridge Park is a waterfront park along the East River. It has everything needed to be one of the most perfect places for relaxing with friends or family: it has a pedestrian zone, lawns, different playgrounds, unique installations, and a spectacular view of the sparkling skyscrapers, standing proudly on the other side of the river, as well as the Brooklyn Bridge itself.
Looking at the city from this spot feels unreal. Taehyung still hasn’t gotten used to how immensely big this New York is. The skyscrapers across the river, the Bridge, even the river with sparking reflections in its waters—everything is so much larger than in Vienna or Daegu that it makes him feel like he had travelled into the Giant Country.
Amazed, he walks over to the water and leans against the railing, feeling as if the lights of the skyscrapers he’s looking at are actually stars and he’s staring at the night skies themselves.
“I love this place at night the most.” Jungkook stands next to him but unlike Taehyung, his gaze isn’t aimed at the view, but the boy who’s enjoying it. “It’s pretty nice at daytime too but at night… it’s a whole new experience.”
“It’s marvelous.” Taehyung lets out a breath of awe, “It’s so quiet here… all the noise is left there, on the other side.”
“Turns out New York is something more than just a busy dirty city, right?” the son of Ares chuckles.
“I love this side of it more.” The boy smiles, loving how the breeze kisses his skin tenderly like his most loyal lover. “It’s so calm here, and everything seems more… welcoming, I guess? I mean, I don’t feel like the city is trying to eat me raw anymore.”
He hears Jungkook laughing lightheartedly at his remark and he turns his head to look at the man but immediately, realizes how fatal his action was.
Jungkook is looking at him.
Out of all the gorgeous things that are now revealed to their sights, son of Ares has chosen a little mortal to stare at and Taehyung is sure that he mustn’t feel so special because of it.
“Thank you for bringing me here.” Taehyung hopes that it’s not too obvious how disarmed and vulnerable he feels right now, looking into the man’s eyes, “I needed it.”
“You looked lonely and in need of something new. And also… well, I’m not even gonna try and make up an excuse for it: it’s refreshing to talk to you. I like it.”
Breathe, Taehyung.
He’s not used to people being so straightforward. His heart is not used to it and it surely, definitely, absolutely is not used when children of Gods are giving him compliments so easily as if it’s something obvious.
Jungkook has a smile decorating his lips, which ruins Taehyung’s walls that he’s been building up for years in a matter of seconds.
“Refreshing?” is all he can ask because he’s afraid that if he attempts to say a longer sentence, his voice might shake.
“I’m not usually surrounded by people like you,” Jungkook explains. “I still don't know how Jimin and Namjoon managed to take you to Frank’s party ‘cause you’re not that much of a wild one. You’re more…”
“I’m more boring.”
“More sophisticated.” Jungkook gives him a stricter gaze now, definitely disagreeing with Taehyung’s low thinking of himself, “Don’t call yourself boring, Tae, you aren’t.”
Tae.
It sounds too much like something that the violinist can get used to and it scares him.
That is why he decides to look away from Jungkook’s eyes, while he still hasn’t lost himself in them completely.
“You’ve only known me for a few hours,” he replies finally. “You barely know anything about me and yet, you’re so surely stating that I’m not boring. What if I am? Maybe I’m conservative and obnoxious?”
“You can tell me more about yourself then. And then, you won’t be able to say that I don’t have any reasons to say that you aren’t boring besides my intuition.”
“It might take a while.”
“I have time.”
Taehyung dares to look at Jungkook again.
The rockstar doesn’t treat him the same way you treat strangers or your friends, but neither does Taehyung because he allows Jungkook to act like this. It’s lurking in the glances they send each other, in the seemingly simple words and sentences, in the way they’re closely standing to each other and don’t think about moving—a silent secret that they both feel thrilled about. As if they both have broken some sacred rule and decide to not tell anyone about it.
There’s something unsaid that’s pulling them together, but Taehyung barely manages to realize it. He isn’t surprised at all with how quickly he’s grown fascinated with the man next to him as he doubts that anyone could dislike him but, at the same time, he doesn’t understand what thing about him could possibly interest someone like Jungkook, he doesn’t even have any idea.
Taehyung is convinced that life doesn’t work this way. Someone like him can’t be liked by someone as unbelievable as the son of Ares.
Jungkook walked straight out of myths and legends, which Taehyung has spent his whole life reading about.
Life doesn’t work like this. It’s not that generous.
And yet, Jungkook is still there, looking at Taehyung with a smile on his face and waiting for him to start telling his story.
It’s not going to end well.
But the violinist ignores it and starts speaking.
He tells Jungkook about Vienna and how much he loved that city. He tells him about how he wouldn’t have wanted to leave if it wasn’t for his desire to separate from his overly controlling parents, which turned out to be stronger than his love for Austria. About how his mother, who used to be a professional pianist, always dreamed of him playing the piano too and how she disapproved of his love for the violin, not because she didn’t like the instrument, but because she couldn’t stand her son going against her will.
Words flow out of the violinist freely. The night peace around them and Jungkook's attentive look on his face, which showed that he paid attention to every single word, made it easy to open up. The rockstar didn’t feel like someone who would judge Taehyung for anything.
The mortal shares stories about how difficult it was to study music, but how he still did his best because he loved it despite everything and because he also believed that violin could give him a chance to move away from his parents. He even tells Jungkook about how many big scandals he’s survived because of his decision to move to New York, but he doesn’t regret it because the feeling of freedom was worth it all.
“And you said that you’re boring.” Jungkook lit up another cigarette at one point. “So far, you haven’t said a single thing that wouldn’t make me wanna ask you more about it.”
“You gotta be teasing me.” The boy shakes his head and chuckles unhappily.
“I don’t leave parties with boring people, Tae. Nor do I spend entire nights simply listening to them.”
Shush.
Listen…
There is a melody playing in the background of Taehyung’s mind. Finally he has noticed this sound, but it’s so faint that he can barely recognize it.
But it gets stronger each time Jungkook attacks the violinist’s heart by saying such forbidden words. Yes, they should definitely be forbidden and there is a reason for it: they are too powerful for the mortal’s heart, which has never been flirted with.
“Now, it’s your turn to tell me about yourself.” Taehyung remembers his promise to himself to be a little braver, “I want to know more about you too.”
Jungkook smirks mischievously at that, definitely having come up with a new round of trouble to cause. “If I tell you everything now, we won’t have any reason to meet again.”
The son of Ares isn’t just the most skillful soldier, he is also a perfect strategist. Especially when it comes to conquering silly little mortals.
“You…” The boy is totally defenseless now, staring at Jungkook with wide eyes, “You want to meet me again…?”
Suddenly, the half-God is too serious and honest when he speaks again.
“I surely do.”
That is when Taehyung finally recognizes the melody he’s been hearing this whole time and it is only now that he realized that it wasn’t playing in his head, but in his chest instead.
The frantically beating thing underneath his sternum has been playing Vivaldi’s Summer ever since he first looked Jungkook in the eyes because this piece was written for the son of Ares specially, Taehyung was assured of this.
Of course, it’s Vivaldi. How could it be someone else if it came to Jeon Jungkook?
This is what Taehyung’s thinking about the whole time that they’re riding again: Jungkook said that there’s no way he isn’t taking Taehyung home when it’s so late.
Pressing himself closer to Jungkook’s back, Taehyung is only able to think that if Jungkook is a warrior like Alexander the Great, then Taehyung wants to have at least the tiniest chance to become his Hephaestion.
When Jungkook parks in front of the building Taehyung’s apartment is located in, the skies are already covered with sunrise dust.
“I just got an idea,” the man says after the violinist returns his helmet and is just about to head inside, “I’m recording a new song in a studio in a few days and, if you want, you could come too. And then after that, we can have lunch and I’ll tell you more about my life as promised.”
Taehyung knows that it’s not going to end well.
There is no way it can end well when Jungkook is looking at him with such a smile on his face that Taehyung is helpless against it.
Jeon Jungkook is a walking natural catastrophe and there are sirens in the boy’s head and heart, warning him about the approaching hazard and telling him that it’s his last chance to run and save his life.
But Taehyung…
“It sounds great.” Our silly little mortal has yet to learn the difference between bravery and temerity, “I’d love to come.”
“Then it’s set.” Jungkook’s smile grows wider. “I’ll ask Jimin for your number and I’ll call you soon.”
“Sure!” the violinist says a little more excitedly than he wanted to. “I’ll be waiting.”
“See you soon, Tae. Goodnight.”
Taehyung chooses to ignore all of the warnings and makes a confident step towards his own end.
“Goodnight, Jungkook.”