Chapter Text
“I don’t really know why this turned into an impromptu mukbang, to be honest.”
“Not that it’s surprising. Our videos usually turn into mukbangs, Tae. We just…keep on eating.”
“Yeah, and it’s usually yo—“
“Your fault.”
“—ur—wha—hey! I am not the one responsible for today!”
“And thank God for that. I am not having another Burger King. You’re gonna explode when you hit forty, you know that right? Full on, ka-boom. Except it won’t be blood, but half-digested burger and meat mush.”
“And I hope when I do, I explode near you so all that burger mush you so lovingly described falls only on you.”
“…”
“My essence, all over my soulmate. Seems poetic.”
“No, that just sounded disgusting. In many ways. Do you even hear yourself?”
“What? I meant the burger mush? Why, what did you—why, Jimin-ssi! Aren’t you bold?”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t meant that when you said it, you pervert.”
“Of course I didn’t! What do you take me for?! Our viewers know I’m the pure one in this partnership. The same cannot be said for you, I’m afraid, tsk tsk.”
“…oh my god, did you have to yell that out. That lady over there is staring at me all weird now, thanks a lot, god.”
“She probably recognized you for the sexual deviant you are—ack—mmmhmmhhm!”
“That’s it for today guys! Make sure to like, subscribe, yadda, yadda—keep still, idiot!—and don’t forget next Monday there’ll be a collab from Tae and a collab from me the next week! We’ll keep you—ow, brat—posted! Until now, it’s been the 95liners!
Click.
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“Taehyung you have got to stop staring at his picture. It’s been close to an hour already.”
“We met them. Do you realize that? Like, we saw them close up. Flesh and blood and all that. We did that.”
“I mean, we saw all of them, not just the person you’re drooling over by the way. Don’t be a solo stan, Tae-ah.”
“I would never!” Taehyung gasped, affronted, finally looking up from his laptop to throw a nasty glare Jimin’s way. “That’s the worst thing you could accuse me of, I can’t believe you.”
Jimin only raised an eyebrow and pointedly glanced at the high-resolution photo taken by an acclaimed Jungkook fansite displayed brightly on his laptop screen. “…Really?”
Taehyung flushes pink, and raises a hand as if to slam the laptop shut in defiance to the lies being spoken, but then indecision washes over his face for a split second, before dropping it and going back to staring, Jimin’s exasperated groan all but forgotten.
“I can’t believe I actually met him.” Taehyung whispers, eyes roving over the pixelated grin, the wrinkles by his eyes, the confetti frozen in place completely adding to the magical look the photo was going for. It was a brilliant photo, and Taehyung was completely impressed by the fansite that took it. It was just completely surreal to look at such a close up image, after the night he’d had with them. Him. Because he’d seen that smile, he’d seen those wrinkles in real life, close up. Hell, he was wearing the encore stage shirt then as well, but then seeing the image taken from the concert, it was almost like all of that never even happened and he’d just dreamed all of it up.
“Actually, I can’t believe I talk to this guy on a semi-regular basis.” Taehyung corrects, still zoned into the picture.
Right at the moment, his phone buzzes with the chime for Begin, and Jimin could only scrunch up his face in exasperation as Taehyung immediately zaps out of his trance-like state to dive for the phone that was tangled up in his blanket. “Yeah. Semi-regular basis. I’m sure.”
He was so done.
It had been two days since the magical, life-changing concert day and the insanity that had been meeting the idols in the flesh. To be honest, even Jimin himself had a hard time believing it happened. The concert already felt like a very vivid dream that was slowly but surely fading, like watercolours bleeding out of a painting, until only blotches of water and light colour were left.
“Okay, you have no right to be done with me, considering how content you were yesterday to just make yourself into a burrito in the blankets and watch Yoongi videos all day.” Taehyung deadpanned, turning away from the screen to throw a judgemental look. “You even skipped gym, and it was leg day. And I know, because you marked it in our calendar with a sparkly star, you freak.”
Jimin sputtered, because what an utter liar. “Don’t make stuff up!—“
“Really?” Taehyung challenged, raised eyebrow and all, “what was I wrong about?”
“It…was not…all Yoongi videos.” Jimin said, trying to keep his dignity intact, and Taehyung just shoots another look screaming judgement, because seeing Jimin trying to justify his actions was just painful.
“Yeah, you’re right. My bad. You read a few fanfics in between too. Truly, my bad.”
“Not just any few,” Jimin mocked, “but it’s that mafia one! Remember I told you about it? The author finally updated! And it is so good, oh my god Tae, I need to tell you what happened in the latest chapter. So, you know how in the previous one Hobi was kidnapped by the rival gang for info and all that and then Yoongi killed the rat in the—“
Jimin stopped at the look the other was sending him right now, and pursed his lips in response.
“…That’s what I thought.” Taehyung huffed mockingly as he finally stood up and stretched, getting all the kinks out of his back. Walking past Jimin to the washroom, he smacked the other on the back, hard, making him sputter indignantly.
“That was for almost ruining the latest chapter. Ass.”
Taehyung could still hear the grumbles from the other as he shut the door of the bathroom, locking it before slumping down on the fancy hotel marble counter. He winced slightly at the cold seeping in from the frigid marble, but paid it no mind as he unlocked his phone to read his new messages.
It was a dubsmash video. Of Jungkook. A seven second long dubsmash video just for him. In reply to the video he’d sent an hour before.
Taehyung squealed, but softly, until the pitch was just high enough for dogs to hear, but not Jimin. He really did not need that one yapping away, again.
For now, he had a dubsmash video from the maknae of BTS to judge.
Taehyung squealed again, stomping his feet for good measure too.
He was pretty sure Jimin heard it this time.
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.
Taehyung stared at the screen blankly, the adobe premiere logo starting to resemble a bright purple blob the longer he went on without blinking. Closing his eyes quickly, he snapped them back again, only to rove over the dozens and dozens of clips he still had left to edit into a cohesive piece for their next upload. They usually upload every Monday and Friday, but it was already Thursday afternoon and he wasn’t even done with half of the travel vlog to Myeong-dong, so basically he was fucked at this point. Not to mention, he had to record the next installment of his play through series for Detroit Become Human, so he was way behind schedule and he really needed to get to it.
But.
His eye falls to his phone. Then to the laptop screen. Then to the phone again.
He resists the urge to roll his eyes at himself. He failed.
Honestly, it shouldn’t be this hard to concentrate. How is it this hard? Jungkook said to consider him normal, for god’s sake, and here he was just thinking about the idol constantly anyway. Thinking about how he was, flesh and blood right in front of him. Thinking of how he’d only seen him right in front of him once, not counting that fan sign, but somehow he’d already memorized the way the younger had a habit of shaking his leg when he was supposedly nervous, or how his nose really did scrunch up a lot, even when he wasn’t smiling. Thinking about the way he was more cautious in the way he ate in front of him than the rest of his members, as if he didn’t want to make a bad impression. Would he be free-er with his actions if he were more comfortable with him? How did he eat when he was?
Taehyung just really...wanted to know.
This was actually a dangerous line of thought, he knew that. He'd already pushed his luck, meeting the members of BTS the way he had after the concert. It wasn’t something just anyone would be lucky enough to do, and he knew it for the privilege that it was. It’s not like he’ll always have opportunities like that. To see them in the flesh, close enough to touch and prod. This was probably a one-off thing. Like a favour of convenience.
But, Jungkook did say to look at him as a normal person.
As a friend.
Taehyung’s eyes fell to his phone next to his laptop, blank and silent.
The phone that actually had Jungkook’s number stored in there. And numerous messages.
Because he’s a friend.
So then, didn’t friends meet up at times?
See, dangerous line of thought again.
Taehyung sighed loudly, rubbing his palms over his dry eyes roughly. He was tired, and there was already that tell-tale throbbing starting at his temples, and just felt too tired at the moment to even lift his fingers, much less keep on editing.
Taehyung knew Jungkook wanted him to look at the other as just another normal person, a stranger turned friend. And he agreed, and admitted to not doing so before. Nevertheless, he imagines the idol had no idea exactly how hard it was for him to separate the two entities completely. It was hard to disassociate Jungkook the Golden Maknae of BTS from Jeon Jungkook, the bratty nineteen year old from Busan. Especially in the moments they weren’t texting each other. Not that he could blame the other—this was a new experience for the both of them, wasn’t it?
Hell, the numerous archive of our own tabs open on his laptop speaks volumes, honestly. He’s read smut regarding this person. Who reads smut on their quote un-quote friends? From tattoo artist!Jungkook to fuckboy!Jungkook to Alpha!Jungkook, he’s read them all! Fics that have made him imagine these living-breathing-humans that were supposed to be worlds and galaxies away, in multitude of scenarios and positions and what not. These fanfictions take on a completely new dimension when you actually know the people involved, in a way Taehyung isn’t sure he’s comfortable with now.
Though, Alpha Jungkook really is something else. Taehyung blinked in thought.
…But that wasn’t the point. Kind of.
The point was, having second thoughts on shipping and fanfics really sucked because he was the ultimate Yoonkook shipper there was! He had a whole folder on Instagram just for Yoonkook moments and a whole thread on why they are a completely real ship on his tumblr. Jimin was more of a Yoonseok shipper himself, which, okay, Taehyung could see the appeal in that, but c’mon. Just the size difference between Jungkook and Yoongi alone would be enough to ship them. Not to mention Yoongi’s tsundere personality and Jungkook’s dorky personality. It was just the perfect recipe for a rom-com. Which meant it was the perfect recipe for the fandom to latch onto.
Fanfic Jungkook is always so adorable too, getting flustered at anything Yoongi says and that shit just makes Taehyung squeal into his bedcovers most days.
But then the Real Jungkook’s words from the fan-sign come unbidden into his head, and then Taehyung is actually squealing, the sudden burst of butterflies at the pit of his stomach uncomfortable and swooping.
Oh God. Wait.
What did this mean then; did he want Jungkook to flirt with him, or flirt with Yoongi? Because flirting with Yoongi would mean, hello, first hand look into his OTP, but then, flirting with him meant…nothing?
It was these kinds of moral dilemmas…
His eyes strayed again, to his phone.
Maybe he was selfish enough to—
No, see?
Dangerous, dangerous thoughts.
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.
Taehyung stared. And stared.
And stared some more.
“You know, the point of going to a gym is to actually work out. And not just stare at the people who do.” Jimin huffs out, voice barely strained as he lifts himself up for a chin lift.
Taehyung shook his head idly. “I’m just wondering how someone as short as you can actually lift yourself on a bar that high.”
Jimin twitched.
“I mean, how did you even reach that bar in the first place? Did the trainer have to like, give you a stool or something, or…?”
“Hey, Tae, you see these muscles bulge when I pull myself up?” Jimin asked, sweetly.
Taehyung squints warily. “…Yeah?”
“Well, shut up, or I’m gonna punch you real hard.”
“Ah.” Taehyung smirks, before opening his mouth.
“And I don’t need to reach your face to punch you, you weed. There’s a spot down below that’ll be even better.” Jimin smiled even sweeter, and Taehyung closed his mouth immediately, pallor turning a bit green.
“Now, get to work, for god’s sake. Don’t just sit and stare like a loser and embarrass me.”
“You’re the one who made me come here with you!” Taehyung scoffs in disbelief.
Jimin just glares through sweaty bangs, the redness on his face just making him appear more hulk-like. But a baby one. Like a really small, almost cute looking but just as dangerous hulk. “Tae. If you wanna make it up to me, you will do something. Like, the treadmill. That’s easy cardio.”
Immediately, Taehyung took offense. “The treadmill? That’s for beginners! I can handle more.”
Jimin just rolled his eyes, holding his chin over the bar for a few seconds in a blatant show of core strength and Taehyung just wanted to sneer at him. What a stupid show off. Who was he even showing off to? Dear God.
Jimin gave him a once over, eyes zeroing in on his calves, and the younger shifted, hiding one calf behind the other.
A slow, mocking smile.
“…Really?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Half an hour later, and Taehyung was done.
“I think I broke my ankle.” He wailed at Jimin from his position on the floor, sweat dripping off of him in rivulets and Jimin scoffed.
“Seems more like you broke your dick.”
Taehyung pouted. “Hey. My muscles are sensitive.”
“What muscles?” Jimin mocked, easily speaking while doing sit-ups, and Taehyung didn’t know if he was impressed or horrified. What was wrong with his childhood to like pain so much? Clearly, Taehyung hadn’t met him early enough to dissuade him of his masochistic notions.
Plopping down face down on a mat, Taehyung sighed, wincing at the burn already starting in certain places of his body. Looking at his sweat matted hair all over his face in the wall length mirror across, he let his mind wander. And letting his mind wander usually always went to just one place these days.
“Hey, Chim?”
A grunt.
“Do you—um.”
Jimin grunted again, and Taehyung could hear him really going at, which just made him feel exhausted even more. “What is it?”
“Just—” Why was it so hard to voice out exactly?, “—just wanted to remind you again that I’ll be filming with Lisa for that Doki Doki Literature Club video day after. So, just, you know, a heads up.”
“…Yes, I know. I have a video planned with Taemin that day too…remember?” Jimin said slowly, then sighed. “Tae, what’s this really about?”
“Nothing! Nothing, really, just—” Taehyung rolled around, to face Jimin, kind of. “Just, do you think if I ask Jungkook to meet, he’ll say yes?” he finally burst out hopefully, eyes fixed on Jimin’s face for his reaction.
And was disappointed but not surprised to see the expressions transition from surprise to bewilderment to disbelief to sympathy. Ugh, this was exactly what he wanted to avoid—pity.
“Tae…” Jimin began, syrupy sweet compassion evident in his eyes even through all that sweat, and Taehyung balked.
“Uh, you know what? Forget about it. I’ve just read too many fanfics, I think. It got to me.” He hurried to say, flopping back face down and hoping for the mat to be a magic carpet to whisk him to anywhere but here right now “Really. It was just a stupid…fantasy. I’m allowed to fantasize, okay? I mean, I’m texting my bias in my favourite boy group in the world right now. My life already is a fantasy.”
He hoped Jimin understood the words muffled into the fabric of his sweatshirt. Or not—he was kind of rambling there.
Taehyung could still feel Jimin’s eyes on his back. He could imagine them too—all soft and kind, like two pots of the gooiest honey ever, thick and saccharine. It just made him want to shrivel up more. After a moment or two, he felt the gaze settle away along with a distant sigh, and Taehyung thanked his lucky fortunes that his soulmate knew exactly when not to prod.
Maybe it was for the best to crush such high hopes in the bud.
Taehyung sighed.
…At least, he’ll always have Yoonkook to make him feel better.
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.
.
His muscles were positively killing him right now.
“Tae, is the laptop all set up?” Jimin called out from the bedroom, and Taehyung scowled as his arms positively burned from even the small motion of sliding the computer forward. Stupid gym and stupid weights and stupid fitness instructors with their stupid deceptive commands. Just a few more, his ass.
“Yes, it is. Come on already! The live’s about to start in six minutes. Stop styling your hair, its not gonna look good whatever you do to it.”
“Shut up, ass. I don’t need hairstyling tips from someone who can’t even lift their arms up to fix their own hair, you loser.” Jimin called out and Taehyung scowled harder, gingerly trying to move his arms to his hair to prove the other wrong but giving up midway when the pain really was too much.
God, he couldn’t believe he had actually gone to the gym with Jimin. Why was he so stupid? He knew about the inevitability of microscopic tears, and now, he was pretty sure all his previously inactive muscles just look like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre set. He was pretty sure Jimin’s mocking cackle was going to haunt his dreams that night, the asshole.
“Whatever. Two minutes!”
“I’m getting the popcorn!”
“Get the normal popcorn, not your extra healthy shit!” Taehyung called back, seeing the hearts increase already.
“They taste the same!”
“No they don’t, yours has a weird aftertaste.”
“Wha—what aftertaste?”
“The healthy kind.” Taehyung scrunched up his face.
“You’re so stupid. Stupidity bothers me so much.”
Shaking his head and resisting the urge to continue on, Taehyung went back to fiddling with his phone, eyes lighting up when a new message notification lit the screen.
The Golden Maknae ✩ | 22:56
How goes your muscles? Or your lack of them I guess.
I swear, you’ve been whining a little too much about how much it hurts.
Like a big baby.
Taehyung | 22:56
Spoken like a true muscle pig whose muscles hate you
for the pain you regularly put them through.
Taehyung | 22:56
Also, how are you even texting me?
Aren’t you all supposed to get ready for your live?
The Golden Maknae ✩ | 22:57
I like the pain. Means it’s working.
You’re watching?
Taehyung | 22:57
Wow. You must be the proudest masochist I’ve ever met.
Kinky. And, duh.
What kind of fan would I be if I wasn’t. Why, you nervous about me watching?
The Golden Maknae ✩ | 22:57
Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. Ugh.
No, why would I be? You’d just be one in a million.
Taehyung | 22:58
Ma-so-chist. Nope, not going away~
Also, aww, I already know I’m one in a million,
but it never hurts to hear it from a celebrity too.
You’re too sweet.
Taehyung | 22:58
…You’re blushing right now, aren’t ya?
The Golden Maknae ✩ | 22:58
What? No. Shut up. No. I need to go.
Live’s about to start. Also, once again.
No. I’m not. Blushing. No.
Taehyung | 22:59
Hwaiting! Don’t choke!
Maybe keep blushing ;)
“Do you think it’s weird that were all prepared to watch a vlive like this, popcorn and all?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Taehyung mumbled, then, “…really?”
“No, of course it’s weird,” Jimin rolled his eyes, nudging him to move in, “especially because we’re only prepared because you actually got insider info from the person holding the live himself.”
Taehyung flushed slightly. “It’s not like he announced it and made sure I see it or anything. He just… said he’s gonna be busy later doing a live, so he won’t be able to really text or anything. It’s not like he gave me a warning. And why would he? We’re just being the stalkers that we are and waiting all prepared.”
Jimin’s look just made him flush even more, and yeah, he should stop digging that grave Jimin wanted to personally shove him in. Taehyung could feel his cheeks starting to hurt from the restraint he’s using to just not break out into a giddy grin. He actually had insider information before a live would start! He actually knew Jungkook was going to surprise everyone with a live in a few minutes while every other fan in the world was in the dark about it!
“You know, the least you could do right now is find a way for me to get in contact with Yoongi. What kind of wingman are you?” Jimin mumbled as he dug into the popcorn and Taehyung just looked at him as if he was crazy.
“Wingman?” he worded, “…seriously?”
“What?” Jimin questioned, all innocent, “I’d do it for you with Jungkook if I made contact first. Not that you aren’t doing fine on your own, laying your groundwork and all that, you lucky bitch.” He teased, a perverted smirk ever so present as he wiggled his eyebrows. Their subscribers may have found that expression sexy or something.
Their subscribers really had no taste.
Taehyung squawked. “Groundwork? What groundwork, we’re just friends! We’re like pen pals, at most! We’re not—we’re not flirting, Jimin! Oh my god, you really think I could be flirting with Jeon Jungkook of all people?! Haha, no. I’d—I’d—no.”
Nervous laughter filled the room until Taehyung grabbed a handful of popcorn and unceremoniously shoved it into his mouth, his cheeks bunching up completely as he looked side-to-side, wide-eyed.
Jimin stared at the pitiful sight.
“…Yeah, you convinced me.”
“Damn right, I convinced you! Not that I really should’ve, don’t be stupid. Hey, isn’t it supposed to start by now?”
“No.” Jimin deadpanned swiftly before continuing, “So you’re telling me that he calling you pretty in that fan sign wasn’t flirting?”
Taehyung just looked baffled, half-chewed popcorn mush visible from his open mouth and Jimin wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Of course not! That was just fan service, you know that. What, am I supposed to take them telling all of us they love us all the time as a marriage vow?”
“Tae, I’ve read your messages. Hell, one of his first messages to you was how he couldn’t forget the guy who left him breathless!” Jimin breathes out the last word, fluttering his lashes like a swooning girl, and Taehyung completely regretted ever letting this smug midget ever read his precious to-be-curated-in-a-museum messages.
“Okay, that was just him teasing our first meeting, you know this—“
“Not to mention that he asked you for your number! He even asked if he was being forward!”
“Like any decent person would! What if I’d assumed it was a bit forward—“
“Oh please, in no world would you have said that’s forward. You’re the thirstiest bitch I know.” Jimin waves away and Taehyung frowns in disbelief.
“I hope you’re not counting yourself in that statistic.”
Jimin smoothly continues without replying to that, which, figures. “And let’s not forget the whole I think you’re an awesome singer and I get awestruck when you sing and you’re so pretty and hot and you’re just so lovely and completely lovable and if you give me a chance I can prove it to you. Preferably naked.”
Taehyung gaped.
“I did not say any of that, what the fuck?”
“Yeah, you don’t have the balls to say that end bit, but I know you were thinking it when you finally saw Jungkook close up.” Jimin leered, poking his thigh with his foot, “I could see those patented Taehyung Crazy Eyes make its reappearance as clear as day. And trust me, I’d seen it around Minjae enough times to know.”
“Why are you bringing Minjae up, we never bring Minjae up, Minjae’s dead to us.” The younger shook his head in exasperation, before stilling. “…was it really noticeable?”
Jimin cackled with his whole body—not that there was much of it, Taehyung fiercely thought, being so bite-sized—almost dropping the bowl on his lap to the ground causing Taehyung to abruptly embrace it.
“I knew you were eye-fucking him.” He breathed out through the cackles and Taehyung finally had enough, hitting him repeatedly with a cushion until he calmed down a bit. “But, no, I don’t think so. They probably just thought you were a bit constipated. Oh, and by the way, you did say the first line to him. You were practically gushing about his singing skills. It was disgusting. And embarrassing. You basically embarrassed me in front of Yoongi. And you embarrassed yourself in front of, well, everyone.” He sniffed.
“Oh bite me.” Taehyung mumbled after a humiliating minute, the entire backstage event flashing before his eyes as the words settled. Had he really embarrassed himself in front of the group? His one chance, destroyed because his thirsty ass couldn’t hold it in for an hour? And Namjoon knew English too, fuck. Why was Jungkook still texting him?
“On the other hand, Jungkook seemed a bit smitten too. Have no idea why. I mean, there’s people to be interested in and then there’s you. You, who eats McDonalds for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You’re basically 92% grease and 8% teeth…”
Oh Jimin was still talking. Something about—
…Wait.
“Wait, what?”
“Maybe 90% grease, 5% teeth, 3% grandpa clothes and I guess I’ll give you 2% legs. But I don’t get why anyone would go just for that 2%, you know? I st—“
“Just—shut up for a sec. Jungkook was smitten with me?” Taehyung asked, eyes turning into the sparkly anime ones.
Jimin just raised his sassiest eyebrow. “I don’t know, you told me to shut up, so…”
Taehyung wanted to strangle him. So bad.
So bad.
Some of the potent rage must’ve leaked through because Jimin tutted, breaking into a giggle. “I said, Jungkook just might, might, be into you. Just a little. Maybe. Probably not. Actually, saying it aloud makes it sound stupid, so yeah, no, I was wrong. He must’ve just been amused by you, like one would be with a puppy. Yeah. Tae? Are you listening? Taehyung? Stop zoning ou—oh for merlin’s sake.”
Taehyung jolted out of his dreams as Y/N. “Jimin, how many times do I have to say it? You’re not actually a Slytherin at Hogwarts, stop with the merlin. You’re so embarrassing.”
Jimin gasped. “As if a Hufflepuff could be embarrassed by a Slytherin! Be glad I’m still hanging out with you, you beaver.”
“Oh my god, and you wonder why I don’t do more for you with Suga.” He mumbled from behind his palm that he’d slapped onto his face in sheer shame.
“Please,” The other scoffed, settling back against the headboard more comfortably, “Yoongi’s a Slytherin too. He’ll just get it.”
“Man, I should’ve never told Jungkook to have BTS follow you too, you’ve gotten way too confident.” Taehyung muttered, only realizing a moment later what he’d just revealed.
“…Wait, what do you mean you told him to—“
“—Oh look! It’s started! Shhhh, Jungkook’s live!” Taehyung yelled out in a panic, arms flailing a bit as he dragged the blankets over himself, eyes focused on the screen completely. Jimin was huffing at his side, and he prayed the other would forget about it soon. He cannot take another whole gym day, fucking hell.
Almost as if Jimin could sense what he was dreading about, he slowly but deliberately dug one miniature finger hard into the flesh of his upper thigh, in the spot Taehyung was wailing about after their gym session from hell, and Taehyung cringed hard—yeah, Jimin wasn’t going to forget any time soon.
“Hello everyone. Oh wait, there’s no one there yet. There’s twenty-eight viewers right now…”
Jungkook’s tinny voice came out the laptop speakers, and Taehyung's hundred percent focus zeroed into the screen, eyes latching onto the boy in the green jersey onscreen with an intensity that wasn’t uncommon with anything regarding BTS.
He looked good. Fresh and soft faced, hair in that soft coconut bowl style only he could somehow pull off, like he’d just been lounging the whole day, or maybe just playing games or hanging out with his friends. Not like, Taehyung remembered with slight giddiness, not like when he’d first saw him backstage in the flesh, all sweaty and disheveled and glittery.
“In Namjoon-hyung’s live, he started talking only when he had a thousand viewers, so I’ll wait until I have a thousand too. Oh, there’s already eight hundred thirty two right now…”
It was still a bit surreal, to be honest. There’s a distinction here, watching the live like this. It puts the two versions he knows of the idol into perspective—the dorky, meme obsessed brat he’d been texting with, and the Superstar Jeon Jungkook who has at minimum a million or two people waiting to watch him do absolutely nothing live. It’s become lesser than it was before, the starkness of the two lines separating the two personas, but moments like this, it’s still apparent. It’s also apparent, how different Jungkook still is in the face of a million people in a live, versus how he is with just him, versus how he was backstage with the other members. It’s fascinating to think about, and even more fascinating to know he actually has more than a chance to fully understand this person.
“Man, he’s so cute…” Taehyung sighed, feeling even more unattractive at the feeling of butter and grease around his mouth and on his fingers but still not able to rouse up any sort of fucks to wipe it all away. Sometimes, one just has to gaze at perfection and accept that you’re just really a hobo.
He made a face at the thought.
After a deliberating moment, he slowly reached to wipe off the butter on his fingers on Jimin’s hoodie. There.
“Yah!” Jimin yelped, swiveling around to smack him hard. “You—!”
Which then turned into a slap fight for the next five minutes. Suffice to say, by the end of it, they both were smothered in butter and popcorn kernels.
“Fuck, you got butter in my hair!” Jimin wailed, lips set in a disgusted grimace as he hesitantly prodded at his now greasy hair.
Taehyung could only sigh in resignation; he was sure to break out now. Plucking one stray popcorn from inside his own t-shirt, he only gave it a brief sniff before popping it in his mouth. Yeah, they were the height of attractiveness, right now. “Whatever. You started it.”
“I did not start it! You did! You wiped your hands on my hoodie! Like a Neanderthal!” Jimin hissed, that tell-tale rage flush beginning to sink in. he was probably planning murder. Or ways to hurt him on a deeper level, like burn his marvel comics or something, the vengeful gnome.
He probably should deflect. Save his ass.
But.
“Yeah, but you slapped me first. You’re so violent.”
“I wouldn’t have to be if you just—“
“Do you think if I texted Jungkook right now, he’ll respond?”
Jimin stopped, completely derailed. “What?”
“Do you think he’ll respond?” Taehyung repeated, idly staring at the screen again at the idol in question, who was now just gorging on snacks. Except he’s doing it without getting it all in his hair, of course. He just looks perfect, instead, as if he’s setting the golden standard on how to munch on snacks. “If I text him, right now?”
“What brought this on?” Jimin scooted forward, fight forgotten as he stared at the screen as well.
“…Because…maybe we were flirting.” Taehyung admitted, rolling his eyes at the enthusiastic ha! that erupted from the other boy, “and I wanna see if he really does get flustered like I keep teasing him about whenever I send him something particularly flirty.”
“I knew you were flirting. I fucking knew it.”
Taehyung flushed a little, but rolled his eyes anyway. Well, he’s not dense, of course he knew the texts were a little flirty. They teased each other back and forth all the time. The only thing he didn’t know was intention—because while he may be flirting lightly with the other, he had no clue if Jungkook was just the naturally flirty but completely oblivious type or if he really meant it.
“I mean, I was flirting, kinda. He—well, I have no idea what he’s doing. Maybe he’s just that friendly.” Taehyung mused and Jimin gave another one of his looks.
“…Right. Yeah. For sure. Absolutely.” Jimin drolled on, and Taehyung could practically hear the eye roll. “If this was back home, this would’ve already been a one night stand turned five.”
“But that’s exactly it, stupid.” Taehyung groaned, eyes flickering to the phone beside him. “This isn’t home, this is Korea. Oh, and you know, that other big red blaring sign being this isn’t just a random hot person from the humanities building across the lot. This is a global celebrity, the global celebrity we’ve been idolizing since, oh I don’t know, forever? This isn’t the regular drunken night at the club, y’know.”
Taehyung turned to Jimin, wanting to see if that garnered any sympathy.
Yeah, no, Jimin just kept on looking at him as if he was the one being stupid. Ass.
Fuck it.
“I’m texting him.”
Jimin perked up in excitement, crowding into Taehyung’s personal space completely, making him roll his eyes in exasperation. “Fuckin—move over, you’re not even letting me see my own damn phone!”
“Alright, alright, geez.” Jimin said, and then proceeded to not move at all.
Sighing, Taehyung just ignored the annoying breathing by his ear and stared at the kakaotalk messenger open on Jungkook’s chat, the cursor blinking blankly.
“You actually messaged keep blushing to him? Maybe you do have the balls…” Jimin mused, snickering.
Taehyung just rolled his eyes and looked up at the laptop again, gaze roving over the Jungkook talking in real time right there. This was such a stupid idea. He didn’t even know what to say. Hell, this experiment won’t even work if Jungkook didn’t look at his phone. And of course, why would he? He’s doing a live right now, for god’s sake, with—Taehyung glanced at the view count in unsurprising disbelief, if that made sense—close to three million people. What the fuck, what if he just got annoyed with Taehyung for pulling such a stupid stunt in the first place and just…realize he’s better off not talking to him?!
Yeah, no, he isn’t gonna risk losing a friendship with his idol just to distract Jimin.
“Jimin, I don’t think it’s a goo—“
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, gimme that.”
Jimin snatched the phone from his hands and jumped to the other end of the bed, like a psychopathic cat, and Taehyung yelped in shock. Then it turned to fear.
“Wait, wait, what the fuck are you doing, gimme that, you better not—!”
“I’m doing what you said you’d do! Try to fluster him!” Jimin said gleefully, fingers moving across the screen and Taehyung could literally feel his intestines freezing over, ice pricking into his goddamn cells.
“You give me back that phone, you freak with baby sized hands—“
“hey, you know I’m sensitive about my hands!—“
“—or so help me god, I will reveal every embarrassing thing about you to Jungkook which will then reach your precious Yoongi’s ears, mark my words.”
“That’s if Jungkook wont block you after tonight~” Jimin grinned wickedly as he tugged the laptop closer. A ding could be heard from the speakers and Taehyung paled.
“…What did you do?” he whispered, and flailed to catch the phone hurled in his direction. Unlocking quickly, he opened the app.
Taehyung | 23:32
You look really cute in the live, Jungkookie (⋈◍＞◡＜◍)。✧♡
An inhumane sound escaped his tightened vocal chords as his life flashed before his eyes. He threw his phone as far away from himself as possible—there was no point in having one anymore anyway. The hermit life seemed far more beautifully tempting than ever before, one where he’d need no contact with any form of life. This must just be karma for all the times he’s thought impure thoughts, and oh lord, were there many. He just never imagined karma come for him this hard in the form of his ex-platonic soulmate. Speaking of whom—
“Dude…” The ex-best friend breathed out, and Taehyung dazedly turned around at the unfiltered awe in his voice. Jimin was staring wide eyed at the screen and Taehyung got enough wits about him in time to scramble towards it as well.
“What, what is—oh.”
Taehyung blinked.
“Uh, sorry, it was just, um, Yoongi-hyung messaging about something, um…”
Well.
That would’ve been more believable if Jungkook wasn’t blushing when he said it.
“Dude…” Jimin repeated, in a trance, “he’s—he’s actually flustered…”
Distantly, Taehyung thought this would be great fodder for the Yoonkook fandom. They were living on crumbs as it was, and this footage will probably be the biggest goldmine since they were roommates in Bon Voyage. Presently, however, Taehyung was melting. His brain was complete mush, and his heart suddenly felt like all the McDonald’s was catching up to it.
Because Jungkook just looked so darn adorable. He’ll probably feel bad about flustering him when he was live like this, but right now, all he could feel was the sheer power rushing through his veins at the thought of him being able to actually make the other blush. It was addictive. Before, he’d been teasing through the texts, but to find out it was actually true?
Felt like nothing else.
“Wait, wait, he’s—he’s typing something back!” Jimin cried, and they both stared wide eyed like a couple of morons as Taehyung’s own phone promptly dinged. Multiple times.
KakaoTalk
3 new message from The Golden Maknae ✩
“This can’t be real life, this just can’t be, what the fuck.” Jimin chanted repeatedly, still staring at the notification like it was the holy grail. “I mean, I knew you guys text all the time and I was definitely aiming for this when I texted him, but to actually see it? No way, we’re in some VR shit, Tae, I swear, see, I knew black mirror would mess us up, I knew it.”
Taehyung paid no mind to the ramblings of an insane person as he opened the app in slight trepidation.
The Golden Maknae ✩ | 23:33
…I don’t really know what to say to that lol. Thanks? You too?
Wait, ignore that last one. That doesn’t make sense, cuz I can’t see you right now.
Obviously. Haha.
Taehyung was deceased. He knew it. He didn’t think he’d die so early, but he was always so goddamn weak to awkward. Makes sense that’d be the way to go.
“Oh my god, he’s so awkward, what happened to that suave JK that was so confident during that fansign? Oh my god, he’s a bunny. He’s so squishy!” Jimin squealed, cheeks bunching up as he alternated between the laptop screen and the phone screen with equal levels of glee and disbelief. “You gonna say something back? You totally should.”
Say something back?
Jungkook was singing now, a pretty trilling sound, face all scrunched up and goofy as he sang along in an extra way with the original track. He grinned at the camera after it, no trace of shyness seen. Only a young boy having fun by himself with a bundle of snacks and two million people watching it happen from the other end of the screen.
And suddenly, Taehyung knew what he wanted to say.
Taehyung | 23:34
Speaking of seeing, what does your week look like?
Would you maybe have time to meet me?
A ding from the screen. Taehyung didn’t even dare to look at the reaction; he just pulled the blanket over his head, the phone screen the only light source in his abrupt alcove, clammy hands clutched around the device. There was no sound for the moments after he sent that risky text, other than the murmurs from the laptop that was just white noise to Taehyung at the moment. Even Jimin was quiet outside the alcove.
It was as if time was suspended, and only him, his heartbeat and the phone existed.
One moment.
Two.
The sudden ding! from his phone scared the crap out of him, heart leaping to his throat. Clammy hands just became clammier and dry eyes just became blurrier. Blood rushing in anticipation—hope? fear? He couldn’t even begin to guess—Taehyung opened the message.
He stopped breathing.
Dimly, he was aware of Jimin murmuring something about Yoonkook shippers being so well fed tonight because just look at that reaction—but Taehyung only had eyes for the words on his screen, heart fit to burst.
The Golden Maknae ✩ | 23:35
I can make time for you.
Huh, Taehyung thought deliriously.
Maybe he wouldn’t have to crush those high hopes, after all.
Suck on that, Jimin.
.
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