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His backpack hung heavy on his back, making his back itch but he ignored it and smiled with his friends regardless. The ache of emptiness and loss that’d kept him locked up and mute now pushed him to go out and smile, the expression no longer false.
The warmth of happiness and acceptance was intoxicating.
He felt high.
“Taehyung are you coming to see Seokjin’s band tonight?” His eyes had to settle on Jimin and he nodded, the smile still on his face.
Seokjin.
A few years older than Taehyung’s physical body, he was all long legs, broad shoulders, and bright smiles.
Seokjin loved him.
It was the only reason why he was still here like this.
Pretending.
Except that he wasn’t pretending. Not anymore.
With the voice of an angel and body that made Taehyung think of nothing but sin, Jimin was a convincing friend for him. His cherub-like cheeks and sweet smiles matched well with how his hips rolled to the beat of a bass heavy song and how he licked his lips and flipped his hair out his face, an arousing expression his face.
Sometimes Taehyung mused that Jimin looked the part of a fallen angel.
If that’s what he was anyway.
What angel had pitch black wings?
In the same breath, what demon had wings?
The music pulsed through the cramped space and bodies moved against his, none of them really sparking his interest because he was here to see one person and one person only.
Seokjin.
Taehyung didn’t have to wait long either. Within a few minutes, he walked on the stage and introduced himself, his acoustic guitar slung across his back.
“Everyone having fun tonight?” There were a few screams mixed with legitimate answers, not that Seokjin could hear them.
He knew all too well how nervous Seokjin got right before he performed and how he could barely decipher anyone and anything between the lights and nervous ringing in his ears.
Once everyone in Seokjin’s band was settled, Jungkook on bass, Namjoon on drums and Yoongi on guitar, the music started and Jin strummed away at his own instrument, his voice washing over the crowd a few seconds later.
“This song is so sexy, wow,” Jimin commented right next to Taehyung’s ear and he nodded out of habit, too transfixed on how close Seokjin’s lips were to the mic and how breathy his voice was for that specific song.
The same lips and husky voice whispered drunken words into his ear, Seokjin’s nose buried in Taehyung’s neck as he clung to him.
“Did you know you’re the muse for most of my songs?” That caught Taehyung’s attention. When the older man saw Taehyung’s reaction, he reached for his glass on the table and knocked back the rest of the truth serum—alcohol—with a practiced ease. He didn’t even flinch as the liquid probably burned its way down his throat.
“Really? I’m flattered hyung,” at the usage of the honorific, Seokjin pressed closer and poured Taehyung another glass, urging him to drink.
Seokjin’s weight pressed him further into the mattress, making his back burn and his skin tingle but he didn’t care.
He wanted this.
He always did.
It was always said that no matter how faultless a sinner was, they were still a sinner and to go so far as defile one of God’s angels meant death, but Taehyung wouldn’t allow that.
He’d rather die.
When Seokjin’s hands finally touched his bare skin, he felt like he would.
Die that is.
No matter how many times it happened, it still affected him like the first time.
Feeling emotions the way mere mortals felt them was a task, yet Taehyung found that when he was with Seokjin, everything came easily.
He could feel excitement, happiness, humor and arousal without much effort. In Seokjin’s presence, there was an absence of the emptiness that threatened to overtake him whenever he let his guard down.
It was why he couldn’t help himself.
He was greedy.
Seokjin didn’t mind though.
He never did.
He knew what Taehyung was and loved him anyway.
His lips would trail down the ugly scars that served as a reminder of who he’d been and what he was now and how no matter how much time passed he would never be human like Seokjin.
Seokjin loved him anyway.
Their differences never mattered, especially when they were joined together because it felt like there weren’t any.
Taehyung and Seokjin were simply just two men. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I love you so much,” Seokjin’s voice was deeper than usual and Taehyung bit his bottom lip, nodding as he held onto the man’s shoulders and kept his eyes open, wanting to see the range of Seokjin’s expressions.
The way he’d bite his lips when he first pushed inside of him. How his mouth would hang open, once he’d settled into a rhythm and the bed squeaked along with it, like an accompaniment in a song.
Taehyung wanted to see it all.
He wanted to feel it too. Feel the sensation of being so full, warm, aroused and overwhelmed.
“I lo-love you too,” Taehyung mumbled as his body wrought with electricity as Seokjin hit that spot inside of him again and again.
When his hand reached between and started to stroke Taehyung as well, his grip on Seokjin’s shoulders loosened and he leaned his head back into a pillow, his chest rising and falling nearly as quickly as the other man moved.
“My angel,” Seokjin sighed, running his hand through Taehyung’s hair as they rested.
The name was pure irony and they both knew it well. It was why it was one of Seokjin’s favorite nicknames to call him.
“My everything,” there wasn’t any irony there though.
That was the truth.
Seokjin was his everything and whether it was cliché or not, he made him feel normal. Whole.
Seokjin was his wings.