Chapter Text
“I am not doing it, Minji.”
Taehyung’s voice carries cleanly across the pool, the sound echoing faintly as he glides toward the edge with ease. His fingers brush the cool tile, water streaming down the line of his arm, and he pushes off again without pausing, cutting through the water in another smooth lap.
When he lifts his head to breathe, he catches sight of Minji standing rigidly at the edge of the pool. Her arms are folded so tightly across her chest that it almost looks painful, her shoulders drawn high with tension, her jaw set in a way that tells him she has already decided she will not leave until he gives her the answer she wants.
“But why?” she demands, the question coming out sharper than she probably intends.
Taehyung exhales slowly as he reaches the wall again, dragging himself up just enough to hook an elbow over the ledge. With his free hand he pushes his damp hair back from his face, water dripping down his temples as he looks up at her with tired patience.
“Because it sounds stupid,” he says at last, the words simple and blunt. “And I don’t understand why it’s necessary.”
Minji mutters something under her breath that is definitely a curse, turning away from him to pace across the slick tiles, the sharp tap of her shoes echoing through the room. She drags a frustrated hand through her hair before turning back to him again, eyes blazing with urgency.
“It is necessary,” she snaps, her voice rising, “I thought you’d understand, Taehyung. Out of everyone, I thought you would understand. So why don’t you?”
For a moment Taehyung doesn’t answer.
Instead he pushes away from the wall again and slips back beneath the surface, letting the water close over his head in a rush of muffled quiet.
When he surfaces again, he floats on his back for a moment, staring up at the sky before turning his head toward the side of the pool.
Minji is still there, still watching him with that same desperate intensity.
And that more than anything else is what unsettles him.
She looks exhausted by it, by whatever plan she’s trying so hard to force into motion, by the sheer strain of needing him to agree.
It tugs at something in him he would rather ignore.
He is trying to understand, he really is, but no matter how many times he turns the situation over in his mind, he still can’t see why it has to be this way.
Taehyung lets out a long sigh, as he drifts back toward the edge of the pool.
“I do understand,” he says finally, quieter now, resting his arms along the tile as he tilts his head back to look at her. “At least… I understand what you’re trying to do.”
Minji’s expression shifts, hope flickering across her face.
“But,” he continues, the word gentle, “I still don’t understand why it has to be me doing the distracting.”
He pauses, frowning faintly as he searches his memory.
“What was his name again?”
Minji presses her lips together, clearly fighting the urge to snap at him.
“Jeongguk.”
“Right.” Taehyung nods slowly. His gaze drifts back to the water for a moment before he looks up at her once more.
“Can’t you find another way?”
Minji drags a hand down her face, as though the argument has already drained whatever energy she had left to fight him with. For a moment she just stands there, staring blankly at the rippling water, before she finally gives up and drops onto the narrow bench by the pool. The wood creaks softly under her weight as she leans forward, elbows braced on her knees, her posture sagging in a way that makes her look much smaller than she did a moment ago.
“I don’t know,” she mutters after a beat, the sharpness gone from her voice now, replaced by something more defeated. “It’s the only thing I can come up with, okay?”
Taehyung watches her quietly as he drifts closer to the edge of the pool.
For a moment he says nothing.
Then, after a thoughtful pause, he sighs.
“I think,” he says slowly, choosing his words with more care this time, “that you could beat him even without playing dirty.”
Minji lets out a short snort, lifting her head just enough to glance at him from beneath furrowed brows.
“Without playing dirty?” she repeats, the disbelief in her voice sharp enough to cut. “That’s rich, coming from you. Weren’t you the one who once pretended to lose your team’s strategy sheet just so the other side would relax and get sloppy?”
Taehyung frowns immediately, his brows knitting together as he pushes himself up a little higher against the edge of the pool.
“That was for a game,” he argues, “This is different.”
Minji huffs under her breath, rolling her eyes as she leans back against the bench.
“It is literally not,”
Taehyung lets the silence stretch for a moment, watching the way she avoids his gaze, the way her fingers begin worrying restlessly at the hem of her skirt like she needs something to occupy her hands.
Finally, he exhales through his nose.
“Okay, then give me one reason. Just one. Why do you want this so badly?”
For a long moment, Minji doesn’t answer.
Instead she stares back at him, her expression tightening as if she hadn’t expected him to push that far. Then, slowly, her gaze drops to her lap, her fingers continuing to fidget with the fabric of her skirt, twisting the material between them in nervous movements that make it painfully obvious she is trying to hide something.
“I just want to be the best,” she says at last, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “And you know how appa gets.”
Taehyung’s expression shifts almost instantly, the faint frustration lingering in his face fading into something far more understanding than he probably wants to admit.
Oh.
He definitely knows.
Being the heirs of Kim Corporation had taught both him and Minji, from the moment they were old enough to understand the weight of their own last name, exactly what was expected of them and exactly how they were meant to exist within the world.
Perfect poster children for the Kim name, polished and presented like something placed carefully behind glass for the world to admire. Always composed, always elegant, always carrying themselves with the effortless confidence that came from knowing every move they made would be watched, scrutinized, and inevitably judged. They were the ones who never stumbled, never slipped, never faltered in front of an audience that was always waiting for them to do exactly that.
The ones who dated only the right kind of people, attended the right events, spoke the right words, and won at everything they so much as placed their hands on.
And if they didn’t–
Well.
There were consequences for that.
Consequences that came in the form of quiet judgement from their peers, whispers in business circles, headlines in media outlets that loved nothing more than watching powerful families crack under pressure. And above all of it, worse than any article or rumor, there was their father’s disappointment.
Taehyung had grown up learning how to carry that weight.
Minji had too.
But the thing was, Taehyung knew his sister far too well to believe this was only about that.
Because this determination to beat Jeongguk wasn’t just about living up to their father’s expectations or protecting the Kim name.
There was something else beneath it.
Something she wasn’t saying.
“Is this Jeongguk kid really that good?” His voice drifts lazily across the water.
Minji doesn’t look up.
“Yeah,” she mumbles after a moment, her voice small, “But I know I can be better. Just… with a little help.”
Taehyung tilts his head slightly, turning just enough to look at her properly now, and what he sees makes something in his chest ache in a way he doesn’t quite expect.
Minji’s usual confidence is nowhere to be found.
The sharp posture, the almost intimidating composure she carries like armor, it's all gone. Instead she sits hunched over herself, shoulders drawn inward as if trying to shrink from something invisible, her expression uncertain in a way he rarely, if ever, gets to see.
And it hurts, because he understands that feeling far better than either of them would ever admit out loud.
“It’s like…” Minji starts, then stops, chewing nervously on her lower lip as she searches for words that don’t seem to want to come easily. “No matter what I do, Professor Lee always praises Jeongguk. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in or how much time I spend fixing things, it’s always him who gets noticed. It’s like he’s the one who shines, and I’m just… a shadow standing next to him.”
Taehyung frowns slightly at that.
It’s strange hearing jealousy in Minji’s voice.
They are the Kims. They grew up with advantages most people could only dream about. They had always been the ones people envied, the ones others tried to compete with.
But clearly, somehow, Jeongguk has something Minji believes she doesn’t.
And that alone makes Taehyung curious.
“What’s the project about?” he asks after a moment.
Minji finally glances up at him, though the look she gives him is unimpressed at best.
“We have to design a building,” she says flatly, before waving a dismissive hand in the air as if already bored with the explanation. “And I’m not going into the details and wasting my time explaining it when you won’t understand it anyway.”
“Hey!” Taehyung immediately protests with an offended frown. “That’s rude..I know what you architecture kids do.”
Minji just stares back at him, utterly unamused.
Taehyung sighs, the dramatic sound echoing faintly off the tiles as he drags a wet hand through his hair again.
“Okay, maybe not the details,” he mutters reluctantly. "Isn’t Jeongguk the same kid with the tattoos and piercings? The one with the long hair he usually ties back… and those bangs always falling into his eyes?”
Minji glances at him like the answer should be painfully obvious.
“Yes, that’s him,” she sighs, "And of course you know him. Everyone does… with the reputation he has.”
Taehyung hums quietly, letting himself sink back into the water again.
Jeongguk does have a reputation.
Just not the kind most people would want.
He’s different in a way that seems to make people restless, the kind of different that makes others watch him a little too closely and whisper when he passes by. Quiet to the point of seeming distant, always moving through campus with his headphones in like the rest of the world exists somewhere far outside the bubble he lives in.
He doesn’t have friends and most of the time he slips through hallways and lecture halls like a ghost people notice only after he’s already gone.
And of course, there are rumors.
Something happened last year, Taehyung remembers that much. The details had spread through campus like wildfire for a few weeks, fragments of stories passed between students in crowded corridors and group chats buzzing with speculation, but he had never paid enough attention to piece together what had actually happened.
Jeongguk had never been someone Taehyung cared enough about to investigate, just another name drifting through the background noise of university gossip.
Still.
Curiosity nudges at him now.
“What people say about him,” Taehyung says after a moment, glancing over at Minji again, “are those things actually true?”
Minji frowns slightly at the question.
“I don’t know, Taehyung,” she replies, sounding faintly irritated by the direction of the conversation. “I’m not exactly friends with him.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then something clicks in Taehyung’s mind so suddenly that he straightens in the water.
“Wait.”
He stops mid-step in the shallow end of the pool and points at her with dripping fingers, eyes narrowing in dawning suspicion.
“Are you asking me to date him or something?”
Minji groans immediately, throwing both of her hands up in the air as though the sheer stupidity of the conclusion physically pains her.
“Tae, just fucking distract him,” she says, exasperation spilling through every word. “Be his friend or something. I’m not asking you to kiss his mouth. And he has no friends, so he’ll definitely get distracted.”
Taehyung stares at her, unconvinced.
“Plus…” Minji continues, hesitating for a second as if deciding whether or not to say it. “Sometimes he stares at you. So maybe he wants to be your friend.”
Taehyung blinks.
Yeah.
There’s that.
Because sometimes Jeongguk really does stare.
Taehyung remembers noticing it more than once, though he had always brushed it off at the time as coincidence.
Jimin, who is… kind of friends with Jeongguk? Taehyung isn’t entirely sure what they are to each other, because Jimin floats between social circles the way only Jimin can, effortlessly collecting acquaintances the way some people collect hobbies.
Once, Jimin had invited Jeongguk to sit with them for lunch.
Taehyung remembers it vividly now. Jeongguk had sat quietly beside him the entire time, shoulders slightly hunched, his long dark hair pulled loosely back with a few strands falling over his eyes.
He had barely touched the food in front of him.
Instead, he had spent most of the meal sitting there in silence, those wide, doe-like eyes drifting back to Taehyung again and again.
Watching him.
Like Taehyung was the most interesting thing in the room.
Maybe he has a crush on him.
It wouldn’t be the strangest thing in the world.
A lot of people do.
Taehyung has grown used to it over the years. It’s never really bothered him, not in the way some people might expect. If anything, he’s learned how to accept it with quiet indifference, brushing it aside without making anyone feel humiliated for trying.
But accepting it and returning it are two very different things.
Taehyung has never had any intention of doing the latter.
Which is why the thought now creeping into his mind makes him uneasy.
Because if he actually does what Minji is asking, if he goes out of his way to befriend Jeongguk, then what if Jeongguk misunderstands?
What if he starts thinking Taehyung is interested?
That would make things… complicated.
“When is your project due?” Taehyung asks finally, pushing the thought aside for the moment.
“It’s a semester-long project,” she replies. “So before the next semester starts.”
Taehyung blinks.
Then he lets out a short laugh. “That’s three fucking months, Minji.”
She shrugs, completely unbothered by the reaction.
“You don’t have to stick to him all the time,” she says calmly. “Just enough so I can do better. And only after college hours. I know you’d be embarrassed to be seen with him on campus.”
Taehyung’s mouth opens immediately, the protest already forming on his tongue but the words die before they can leave.
Because denying it would be a lie.
It’s not that he’s embarrassed of Jeongguk, not exactly.
It’s just…
Jeongguk is an outcast.
And Taehyung has spent his entire life carefully avoiding situations that might make people talk about him in ways he cannot control.
People already watch him enough as it is.
He doesn’t need to give them more reasons.
That’s all it is.
Really.
“Taehyung…”
Minji’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, softer now, almost pleading.
“This would mean so much to me,” she says quietly. “I just… I just want Professor Lee to appreciate me for once.”
When Taehyung finally looks at her properly, the sight hits him harder than he expects.
Her eyes are glassy like she’s been fighting tears she refuses to let fall.
And immediately, instinctively, a surge of protectiveness rises in his chest.
He hates seeing her like this.
Hates the idea that she feels like she has to beg for recognition when she has always been one of the most capable people he knows.
But still.
Hanging out with Jeongguk?
That is going to be a pain in the ass.
And worse than that, if Jeongguk really does start thinking Taehyung likes him…
Taehyung doesn’t even want to imagine how awkward that will become.
And worse than that is the inevitable flood of gossip that will follow the moment people notice Taehyung Kim spending time with the campus’s most mysterious outcast.
“How about you give me some time to think about it?” he says at last.
Minji straightens immediately, her head snapping up so quickly it almost startles him.
“Okay,” she says quickly, nodding like she’s afraid he might take the offer back if she moves too slowly. “Take your time… just please think about it, yeah?”
Taehyung studies her for a long moment, a small crease forming between his brows.
Minji has always been competitive. She has always chased first place like it’s something she was born to claim.
But this?
There’s something more frantic beneath the determination now, something that makes her look almost desperate, like she’s chasing something far more important than simple academic validation.
Like she needs this win for a reason she hasn’t told him yet.
“I will, Minji-yah,” Taehyung says finally, “I’ll think about it.”
Taehyung decides he will make his mind about Jeongguk after observing him a little more.
Sure, they have hung out before but those few shared lunches or walking side by side when Jimin happened to bump into them on campus didn’t exactly count as quality time. Even then Jeongguk barely spoke a word. Taehyung sometimes wonders how much Jimin even knows the guy, much less why they are friends. Jeongguk is so quiet it is like he is allergic to conversation. What does he even bring to the friendship? Silence?
So yeah about the whole “observing Jeongguk” thing, it’s necessary. Because Jeongguk is a little... well, Jeongguk. And Taehyung doesn’t want to get involved with someone who might turn out to be sketchy. Call him judgemental but he is just being cautious. For all he knows Jeongguk could be a drug dealer. Or a murderer. You think he is exaggerating? Have you seen how anti social that boy is?
And Taehyung for one doesn’t want his name tied to some true crime documentary twenty years from now.
It is Wednesday, which means he knows exactly where to find Jimin. At the little cafe near campus they always end up at mid week. Taehyung strolls there at his usual pace, offering casual hello and charming smiles to people who pass by. What can he say? He is popular. Okay more than just a little popular. Perks of being the heir to one of Korea’s largest conglomerates. His face is familiar, more than a few people know who he is even if he has never said a word to them.
Sure enough when he reaches the cafe, he spots Jimin at a corner table, already mid meal and completely absorbed in his phone. His brows are furrowed, lips pursed in concentration, his tray a chaotic mix of fries, ketchup and a large chocolate milkshake.
Taehyung’s eyes quickly sweep the table, half hoping to see Jeongguk sitting across from him but no such luck. He sighs and makes his way over, slumping into the seat opposite Jimin.
Jimin glances up, unimpressed, then casually tosses a fry into his mouth before returning his attention to his screen.
“What’s got you so focused?” Taehyung asks, reaching over to steal a fry without hesitation.
Jimin doesn’t even look up, “Get your own fucking food.”
Taehyung grimaces, glancing at the sad pile of fries and half melted shake. “I would but looking at your tray is already clogging my arteries.”
Jimin sips his milkshake with a dramatic slurp. “And yet you are still eating my fries.”
Taehyung smirks. “Let me guess, you saw Minhae making out with someone again?”
“Fuck you.”
That earns a laugh from Taehyung. Jimin had been dancing around an almost relationship with Minhae for months now. Casual hookups, heated glances, late night texts that went nowhere. And though they never officially dated, Jimin’s obsession was anything but casual. The problem? Minhae never really seemed interested in committing and it drove Jimin insane.
Taehyung leans back, resting his arm on the back of the chair. “You know,” he muses, “for someone who has dated half the campus, you sure get fixated on the person who won’t date you back.”
Jimin ignores him.
“Where is Hobi hyung today?” Taehyung asks, changing the subject when he realizes Jimin’s mood is spiraling.
Jimin doesn’t look up. “You don’t remember? He is taking guitar lessons.”
Taehyung quirks a brow, “Guitar? Since when?”
“Since Yoongi hyung started teaching him,” Jimin replies looking at him. “You know that senior.”
“Yoongi…” Taehyung trails off thinking. “Ah. The one who always looks like he has not slept in five days.”
“That’s the one.”
Hoseok had been acting a little strange lately. Ever since they had all gone to that bar downtown the one where they stumbled upon Yoongi performing on a tiny stage lit by low amber lights. Hoseok had been captivated and inspired apparently. He had not stopped talking about learning guitar since, claiming that something about Yoongi’s presence, the way his fingers moved over the strings so effortlessly had struck a chord in him, pun very much intended.
And now, somehow Hoseok was seeing Yoongi more than he saw Jimin or Taehyung.
“Don’t you think he has been weird about this Yoongi dude?” Taehyung asks, poking at the edge of the Jimin’s tray.
“Huh?” Jimin responds absently, his eyes still locked onto his phone.
“You know, the way he gets all heart eyes and shit every time he sees him.” Taehyung leans back in his chair, arms folded loosely over his chest.
Jimin shrugs. “I mean… he looks up to him. What’s wrong with that? I think it’s sweet, honestly. He actually seems serious about learning guitar. And he looks… happy.”
Taehyung hums, unconvinced. “So what? now we have to start hanging out with Yoongi hyung too? Like are we getting a group package deal? You, me, Hobi Hyung... and Jeongguk.” He snorts. “Just imagine that.”
Jimin finally looks up, brows furrowing. “Well I know you will be the one making it weird, so yeah… probably awkward.”
Taehyung blinks. “What the hell does that mean?”
Jimin goes back to scrolling. “It means you are never welcoming when Jeongguk’s around. You get all cold and standoffish, like you are trying to win some invisible battle he is not even playing.
Taehyung frowns. “That’s not true. I have tried to make him feel included. He is the one who just stares at me all the time like I am some kind of puzzle he is trying to solve.”
Jimin sighs. “Maybe… maybe he just wants to be friends, Tae. Have you ever considered that?”
“Well I want to be friends too” Taehyung mutters defensively, though his words falter halfway through.
Friends for now, his mind adds quietly, the thought slipping in before he can stop it. Because he has ulterior motives, because there is a reason he suddenly cares about getting closer to Jeongguk, and the faint flicker of guilt that follows makes something uncomfortable settle in his chest.
He pushes it away just as quickly.
Instead he clears his throat and forces a casual tone. “So…tell me something about him then. I want to get to know him better.”
That finally gets Jimin’s full attention. He sets his phone down on the table, eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to peer through Taehyung’s carefully arranged expression.
For a moment, Taehyung wonders if Jimin can see right through him, see that this sudden interest isn’t entirely innocent. That there’s something behind it. That this is about Minji.
But then Jimin’s gaze softens and he smiles. It’s small, sincere.
“I am glad Taehyung,” he says. “Jeongguk’s a good kid.”
Taehyung nods, though he can’t quite hold his friend’s gaze. Instead he reaches out and steals another fry, chewing in silence as the guilt slowly starts to settle in his chest.
It’s fine. He is doing this for Minji. For his family. That has to come first.
“What do you want to know? Jimin asks, voice lighter now.
“Anything,” Taehyung shrugs, feigning nonchalance like he isn’t a mission wrapped in guilt and ulterior motives.
Jimin gives him a look. “Well… I think you already know the basics. He told you about himself the first time you two met, didn’t he?”
He did?
Taehyung blinks. Shit.
No, he didn’t. Or maybe he did and Taehyung just wasn’t paying attention.
Jimin must have caught the way his face blanks out because his eyes narrow slightly. “You do, right? Remember?”
Taehyung’s mouth opens, the closes again. For a second he considers telling the truth. But that would only raise more questions he isn’t ready to answer. So instead he lets out a laugh.
“Of course I do, Jimin,” he says smoothly, “what do you take me for?”
Jimin smiles, reassured. “That’s good then.”
There is a beat of silence before Taehyung leans forward, trying to pivot. “You know what? Let’s forget about you telling me more stuff right now. How about… ” he taps his fingers on the table, “You just tell me where I can find him instead?”
Jimin blinks at him, surprise flickering across his face so openly that Taehyung almost braces himself for suspicion to follow.
But it never comes.
Instead, something softer appears in Jimin’s expression, something that looks dangerously close to hope.
“You want to talk to him?” he asks slowly. “Get to know him better?”
Taehyung forces a grin, even as another pang of guilt claws at his chest. “Yeah why not?”
Jimin’s whole face lights up. “That’s actually great, Tae. seriously, he is always so quiet and it would be good for him to have someone like you around.”
Taehyung looks away for a second uncomfortable with the warmth in Jimin’s voice. He doesn’t deserve that praise. Not right now.
“He is usually holed up in the library,” Jimin continues, “Or hanging around with Yoongi hyung. Or working at Caffeine Lab but right now he should be at the library.”
Taehyung’s brow knit together. “Wait. Yoongi hyung? He and Jeongguk know each other?”
“Yeah, “ Jimin says, nodding. “Jeongguk sometimes records demo guides for him.”
“He sings?”
Jimin frowns. “I thought you would have known that.”
“Yeah… um… I do. I just forgot.” Taehyung stands abruptly, chair scraping against the tiled floor. “I have gotta go. I will catch up with you later, okay?”
Jimin looks like he wants to say something but Taehyung’s already stepping away waving over his shoulder.
“Sure,” Jimin calls after him. But Taehyung barely hears it. He is already pushing the Cafe door open, the bell above it jingling faintly as he walks out into the late afternoon sun.
Taehyung does end up going to the library to find Jeongguk just like Jimin told him to.
He has a class right now, an actual class he is supposed to be sitting through but apparently Minji’s problems are more important than his attendance record. She owes him for this. Big time.
He rarely steps foot inside the library. Studying at his apartment has always been his preference. Quiet, private and most importantly comfortable but he understands why everyone else seems to love it here. Most students live in the dorms, sharing rooms with noisy roommates and for them this place is probably the only sanctuary.
The moment Taehyung walks through the glass doors, the scent of paper and the faint hum of the air conditioner hit him. His eyes scan the room slowly turning from one side to the other, searching for that familiar mop of dark hair. Halfway through, his gaze locks with someone he wishes he had never seen, Park Seri.
She has been trying to hook up with him since last semester, each attempt more desperate than the last. Seri’s face lights up the second their eyes meet and Taehyung forces a polite smile before turning away. His polite smile quickly collapses into a grimace when he sees Seri get up, fast and start walking toward him.
Nope.
Not today.
Taehyung turns and heads in the opposite direction, weaving through the rows of shelves as if the library is suddenly a maze. He’s about to duck into the far corner when he spots him.
Jeongguk.
The younger boy is tucked away at the very end of the room, glasses perched on his nose, head bent over a fortress of four open books. He has earphones in, his bangs spilling into his eyes while the rest of his hair is tied back loosely. He looks… focused.
Instinctively, Taehyung drops into a seat a few tables away, angled perfectly so he can see Jeongguk without being noticed.
Now that he is actually here, he has no idea what he is doing. He has never been the type to follow people around, much less spy on them like some kind of creep.
But here he is. Doing exactly that. All because of Minji.
With a sigh, he pulls out a couple of his own books, arranging them neatly in front of him. If anyone asks, he is studying. Definitely not tracking Jeongguk’s every move.
For the next hour or maybe it’s less, maybe more, Taehyung watches as Jeongguk works. The boy occasionally leans back, muttering to himself under his breath, gesturing with his hands like he’s physically trying to pull the solution out of the air. Sometimes, he digs into his bag, pulls out a snack and pops it into his mouth without breaking his concentration. He is so animated in such a quiet, restrained space that Taehyung can’t help but think 'what a little weirdo'.
Eventually, Taehyung’s attention drifts. He snaps a photo of the open page in front of him and posts it on his Instagram story, more out of boredom than anything. His phone is halfway back into his pocket when movement catches his eye.
Jeongguk is looking at his phone.
Wait.
Does that mean...?
Taehyung frowns, pulling his own device back out and opening Instagram again. He has thousands of followers and doesn’t know half their usernames so finding Jeongguk manually is impossible. But Jimin follows him, and Jimin follows Jeongguk so...
A quick scroll later, there it is jeongguk.97 Barely twenty followers. A handful of pictures. And sure enough he is following Taehyung.
Well. That’s interesting.
When Taehyung glances back up, Jeongguk is zipping up his bag, preparing to leave. Without hesitation Taehyung shoves his own books into his backpack and slips out of his chair, following at a careful distance.
Jeongguk walks with the kind of quiet focus that makes him blend into the crowd, head down, earphones in, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Taehyung trails after him at a careful distance, hood pulled up, praying no one notices him and the obvious fact that he’s shadowing a boy across campus like a suspicious extra in a bad spy movie.
They weave through the side streets near campus until Jeongguk slows and Taehyung’s heart skips. Has he noticed?
Jeongguk comes to a complete stop.
Shit.
In a split second,Taehyung sidesteps into the narrow gap between a vending machine and a lamppost,pressing himself against the cold metal like he’s part of the scenery. His pulse pounds in his ears as he watches from the corner of his eye.
But Jeongguk doesn’t turn around. He crouches instead, unzips his bag and pulls out a crinkled packet of dried fish treats. A stray cat, small and scruffy peers out from under a parked scooter. Jeongguk holds out a piece, his expression softening . The cat edges forward, sniffs and then starts eating from his palm.
For a moment Taehyung just watches.
Jeongguk stays there for a while, stroking the cat’s head with his knuckles, murmuring something Taehyung can’t hear. Then as if the little interlude never happened, he tucks the packet back into his bag, zips it shut and keeps walking.
When they reach the main road, Jeongguk crosses to the other side. Taehyung lingers on the curb, watching as the boy disappears behind a glass storefront.
Minutes later, he reappears, this time wearing the dark brown apron and white shirt of the Caffeine Lab.
Taehyung considers strolling in, playing the part of the casual customer who just happened to end up here. He could order something, talk to him a little, maybe start building the bridge he’s here to build for Minji.
But then he sees who’s standing behind the counter alongside Jeongguk.
Yeji.
Taehyung almost laughs. He and Yeji share a class,they’re not best friends, but they’re friendly enough.
And just like that, an idea blooms in his mind.
And he knows it is going to work so well.
The next afternoon, Taehyung is behind the counter at Caffeine Lab, working Yeji’s shift like it’s his own.
Yesterday when she was leaving the cafe, he had made sure to “accidentally” bump into her. From there, it had been easy, he had launched into casual conversation, marveling at how she managed to juggle a cafe job and a full class schedule. Then, with just the right amount of guilt in his voice, he told her he wanted to do something nice for her. Offered to work her next shift.
Yeji had stared at him like he had just descended from the heavens, her eyes practically heart shaped. “You are a literal angel on earth” she had said, clasping her hands dramatically.
And now here he is, standing behind the counter, struggling with her apron like it’s some ancient riddle. Where the hell do these strings even go? How do you tie them without twisting the whole thing?
The bell over the door jingles.
Taehyung glances up and freezes for a fraction of a second.
Jeongguk stands in the doorway, looking like he has just seen a ghost. His mouth is slightly open, eyes wide, the tips of his ears pink.
Taehyung flashes him a quick, charming smile before returning to the task at hand, wrestling with the stubborn apron strings. He hears the soft thud of footsteps, then the creak of the back room door.
A pause.
“Uh… do you need help with that?”
Taehyung perks up at the sound of his voice. Jeongguk is standing a few feet away, avoiding direct eye contact, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. There is a faint flush across his cheeks, as if speaking up had taken some effort.
“Sure,” Taehyung says easily, glancing down at the tangled fabric in his hands. “This thing feels like solving a puzzle.”
Jeongguk lifts his gaze just enough to take in the situation, his eyes flicking over Taehyung and the way the apron hangs awkwardly around his neck, the fabric twisted in a way that makes it obvious he has no idea what he’s doing. For a moment he simply watches, and then the corner of his lips twitches in a quiet amusement.
“Um… you’ve worn it wrong.”
Taehyung glances down at himself as if only now realizing something might be off, and when he looks back up there’s a low chuckle caught in his throat. Without making a big deal out of it, he pulls the apron up and over his head, the motion easy and careless, before holding it out toward Jeongguk.
“Alright,” he says, the smile still playing at his mouth, “show me the right way then.”
Jeongguk hesitates for the briefest second before stepping forward to take it. He handles the apron carefully, and begins explaining in a soft, measured tone where the head loop is supposed to rest and how the long straps are meant to cross behind the back before being tied at the waist.
Taehyung listens without interrupting. By the time they finish, Taehyung adjusts the apron properly over his clothes and smooths his hands over the front of it, before looking up again with an easy grin.
“Thanks.”
Jeongguk finally meets his eyes then properly, for the first time that day and a small smile appears, shy but unmistakably real.
“Why don’t you handle the counter,” Jeongguk suggests after a moment, stepping back and putting a little space between them again, “and I’ll make the orders.”
Taehyung tilts his head slightly, studying him with mild curiosity before his lips curve in a teasing smile.
“Is this because I’m new here and you’re trying to give me the easy part?”
The question is light, but it makes Jeongguk pause, like he hadn’t expected to be called out so directly.
“I mean…” he starts, the words coming slower now, “I could teach you.”
Taehyung’s smirk deepens.
“Alright,” he says after a second of consideration, tapping the counter lightly with his fingers. “I’ll take the register for the first half of the shift, and you can take over for the second.”
Jeongguk thinks about it for a beat before giving a small nod.
“Okay.”
Taehyung leans his elbow casually against the counter, posture relaxed.
“Don’t underestimate me, Jeongguk,” he says, his tone playful, “I know how to do shit.”
For a second, Jeongguk simply stares at him, as if he’s still trying to process the fact that Taehyung is talking to him like this, so casually, so easily.
Then his lips curl upward again.
“Sure.”
And this time, the smile stays.
Taehyung realizes working the shift is nothing short of exhausting. The kind of exhaustion that doesn’t make your body ache so much as it frays the edges of your patience. He has been standing for hours, plastering on a polite smile for every customer, offering drink suggestions to a few indecisive ones, wiping down tables that are messy again five minutes later and pretending he doesn’t want to scream every time the espresso machine hisses at him like an angry cat behind him.
Honestly it’s no less than hell. For the first time in a while, he is genuinely grateful for his father’s money because at least he doesn’t have to depend on this for survival.
By the time the lull between orders hits, he leans against the counter, eyes narrowing at the endless string of dockets printing from the till, “Hey Jeongguk,” he calls out over the hiss of steaming milk, “Let me make the orders now, yeah?”
Jeongguk glances over his shoulder. The movement is small, but Taehyung catches it , the slight tug of his lower lip between his teeth, the glint of silver where the light hits his lip ring. He had not noticed that before.
“You sure?” Jeongguk asks.
“Yeah.”
A small nod, "okay.”
As Jeongguk wipes down the counter, Taehyung watches him from the corner of his eye. “I don’t understand how you and Yeji handle so many customers every day,” he admits, reaching for a cup.
That makes Jeongguk pause mid wipe. He looks up at Taehyung, expression unreadable. “It’s because of you.”
Taehyung blinks, “Huh?”
“All these people....” Jeongguk gestures subtly toward the cafe floor “there’s an extra rush because of you.”
Frowning, Taehyung follows his gaze. A table of three girls sits by the window, their heads tilted together, giggling behind their hands. One of them glances over and Taehyung forces a quick smile in their direction. The reaction is immediate, their giggling intensifies.
He drops his gaze back to the counter. Jeongguk notices too. He presses his lips together, something unreadable flickering across his face, before stepping back behind the counter beside him.
“I don’t think so,” Taehyung says after a moment, still doubtful. “How would they even know I am working a shift here?”
Jeongguk shrugs, “Probably someone saw you and told the others.”
Taehyung lets out an awkward chuckle, “Um....I’m sorry I guess. You have to work extra hard now.”
Jeongguk’s mouth quirks faintly. “Extra business, more tips, it’s not too bad.”
“Right.” Taehyung says, returning the smile, though a little slower this time.
By the time their shift draws to a close, the café has fallen into that quiet, hollow stillness that always settles after the last customer leaves. Taehyung is bent slightly over the mop, dragging it across the floor in long, steady strokes, the faint scent of cleaning solution rising as the damp fibers glide over the tiles. The repetitive motion is almost soothing, and for a moment he focuses only on the slow rhythm until the sound of the back door creaking open pulls his attention away.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Jeongguk step back inside, the muffled thud of the trash bin lid falling shut echoing faintly from the alley behind him.
The night air follows him in for a second before the door clicks closed again, leaving the café warm and dim beneath the overhead lights.
Jeongguk pauses near the counter instead of walking past, his movements hesitant, like he’s unsure whether to interrupt. His hands slide awkwardly into the pockets of his apron as he stands there, shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other while watching Taehyung work.
For a while he doesn’t say anything.
Then, quietly–
“Do… do you want me to do it?”
His voice carries that same softness Taehyung has noticed all day, as though every sentence is something he’s carefully testing before letting it out.
Taehyung pauses just long enough to dip the mop back into the bucket, the wheels squeaking faintly as he pulls it closer.
He swallows down the immediate urge to snap.
Ever since the shift started, Jeongguk has been hovering around him in this strange, careful way offering help, watching what he’s doing, stepping in before Taehyung even has the chance to ask. It isn’t aggressive or rude, but the constant attention makes it feel like Jeongguk expects him to mess something up at any moment.
And it’s starting to get under his skin.
“Nah, I’m good,” Taehyung says instead, forcing an easy smile as he pushes the mop forward again. “I’ve got it.”
Jeongguk nods quickly, like he doesn’t want to push the issue.
The only sounds left are the faint squeak of the mop against the tiles and the soft hum of the refrigerator behind the counter.
Taehyung can feel Jeongguk’s presence even without looking at him.
Jeongguk is… jittery. A little too eager to help, a little too quick to apologize, shy in a way that makes him seem almost painfully harmless. The kind of person who instinctively bends around other people’s moods, who tries too hard to make things easier for everyone else.
Distracting someone like that will be easy.
Probably easier than Taehyung had expected.
Still… there’s a faint flicker of guilt that stirs somewhere in his chest, quiet but persistent.
It’s not like he’s planning to ruin Jeongguk’s life.
He just wants Minji to do better in class. That’s all this is.
And it’s temporary, three months, maybe less.
He isn’t going to sabotage Jeongguk outright, isn’t going to go out of his way to make him fail.
He just… won’t make it easier for him to succeed.
“Taehyung… hyung… ” Jeongguk says suddenly.
Taehyung looks up, mildly startled. Jeongguk’s never called him by his name before, let alone hyung. It’s strangely familiar for someone he’s only spent a few hours working with. Though, considering they have hung out with Jimin a few times, maybe it makes sense.
“Yeah?”
“Um... why did you work Yeji’s shift?”
Taehyung doesn’t answer right away and Jeongguk’s eyes widen like he has overstepped. “Uh... you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—”
“Yeji looked tired after work,” Taehyung says simply, cutting him off. “I thought it might help if I took the shift today.”
Jeongguk blinks, then his expression softens into a smile that seems to warm his whole face. “That’s... that’s sweet of you, hyung.”
Taehyung has to glance away, focusing on a stubborn smudge on the floor. “Um yeah.”
“I hope everyone gets a friend like you.”
The words make Taehyung freeze for a second. He has to grit his teeth because yes, his motive for taking the shift was different but the outcome was the same. Yeji got her rest. The fact that Jeongguk believes it was purely out of kindness shouldn’t bother him, and yet it does.
They fall into a quiet rhythm again until the next song kicks in from the cafe speakers, his playlist, connected to his phone.
There’s a sharp intake of breath behind him. “I love Bloodwitch.”
Taehyung startles, glancing up. Jeongguk’s eyes are wide, his smile brighter than anything Taehyung’s seen all day. The excitement is so genuine that Taehyung can’t help but smile back. “Yeah? They’re cool, right?”
Jeongguk nods quickly, almost too quickly.
A chuckle escapes Taehyung. “Too bad they disbanded.”
“Yeah... ” Jeongguk’s shoulders drop and his lips push into a small pout.
“You know,” Jeongguk says after a pause, glancing down almost shyly, “on my birthday last year, Yoongi hyung somehow got his hands on their unreleased tracks like, actual recordings and put them on a CD for me.”
“No way,” Taehyung says, genuinely impressed, “That’s awesome.”
It strikes him then that Jeongguk and Yoongi must be closer than he thought.
“I could lend you the CD,” Jeongguk offers suddenly, “You can listen to it and give it back.”
Taehyung pauses, “What if I get greedy and don’t want to return it?”
The smile slips from Jeongguk’s face for a moment and he seems to genuinely consider it before saying, “It’s okay. I’ve listened to it so many times, I’ve got it memorized.”
“I was joking, ”Taehyung laughs, shaking his head, ”But thanks. Yeah maybe I’ll listen to it a couple of times and return it. That work?”
Jeongguk straightens, that sweet smile returning in full force and nods.
Taehyung smiles back, this time without thinking about it. For all his plans, he can’t deny there’s something genuinely easy about being around Jeongguk.
Taehyung stands in front of the heavy mahogany door. His eyes linger on the polished surface, the faint reflection of himself staring back. This is it. If he tells Minji he is going to do it there is no taking it back.
His mind flickers to the shift he worked with Jeongguk, the easy small talk, the moments that were......almost pleasant. Sure, Jeongguk hovered too much, sometimes stared a little longer than necessary but it hadn’t been unbearable. In fact, Taehyung had survived it just fine.
He exhales slowly and raises his hand, knocking.
The door swings open to reveal Minji looking worn thin. Her dark circles are stark against her skin and her hair is scraped into a messy bun like she hasn’t had the energy to care.
“Can I come in?” Taehyung asks.
“Yeah.” She steps aside and he slips past her.
Inside, the warm glow of a desk lamp casts soft shadows over scattered sheets of tracing paper and foam board cutouts. The table is crowded with rulers and tiny scraps of cardboard, architecture materials littering both the surface and the floor. A gentle, almost melancholic song hums quietly from a speaker in the corner.
“Working on the project?”
Minji just shrugs but Taehyung catches the heaviness in the movement. Something twists in his chest. She looks exhausted,.too young to be carrying that much stress in her posture, in the slump of her shoulders. The last bit of doubt he has been holding onto dissolves in an instant.
“Minji-yah,” he says softly, stepping forward and resting a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll do it.”
The change in her is immediate. Relief floods her expression before she even moves, then she is in his arms, hugging him tightly, her face pressed against his shoulder.
Taehyung wraps her up just as firmly. He knows it’s unfair to Jeongguk. He knows what he is about to do isn’t right.
But right now, holding his sister in her moment of need, he doesn’t care.
The cafeteria is its usual midday chaos, trays clattering against tabletops, chairs scraping loudly across the floor, and dozens of conversations colliding in the air until the whole room hums with restless noise. Taehyung sits wedged between two of his friends from his econ elective, half paying attention as they pick apart the latest piece of campus gossip with the kind of enthusiasm people reserve for things that don’t actually matter.
“Nah man, I’m telling you,” Hyunwoo says, leaning forward across the table like he’s about to disclose classified information. “Mrs. Choi and Jay definitely had a thing.”
A few people immediately perk up.
“I remember how they used to flirt in class,” someone adds, snapping their fingers like the memory just came back to them. “But now it’s all awkward. They probably broke up or something.”
“And Jay always scored ridiculously high in her class,” another voice cuts in with a snort. “Even though he’s dumb as hell.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes but tears off another bite of his sandwich anyway, chewing slowly as the conversation spirals further into speculation. The whole thing is ridiculous, but it’s also the perfect way to kill time between lectures without thinking too hard about anything.
“Man, but Mrs. Choi is fine,” Hyunwoo says after a moment, shaking his head in exaggerated admiration. “We can’t deny that shit.”
“Having a relationship with your professor is a whole different level of desperate,” Taehyung replies around a mouthful of food, his tone lazy but certain. “Doesn’t matter if they’re hot.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Nari mutters, leaning back in her chair with a grimace. “There are literally thousands of students on campus and you want to fuck the professor?”
“Honestly it would make sense if he did it just to pass her class,” someone else laughs.
Taehyung is about to nod in agreement because, yeah, that does sound plausible, when a shadow falls across the table.
He looks up.
And freezes.
Because Jeon Jeongguk is standing there, slightly out of breath like he’s been walking fast across campus, clutching a slim CD case in both hands as carefully as if it might break.
For a split second Taehyung’s brain just blanks.
What the hell is he doing here?
The atmosphere around the table changes instantly. The chatter dies down mid-sentence, curiosity sharpening the silence as Taehyung’s friends glance between him and Jeongguk like they’ve just stumbled onto the beginning of a very interesting story.
But Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice any of them.
His gaze is fixed entirely on Taehyung.
“Hey,” he says softly, the word almost shy.
Taehyung blinks, suddenly aware of every pair of eyes watching him. The weight of their attention prickles uncomfortably along the back of his neck.
“What—” he straightens in his chair, his voice coming out sharper than he intended, “what are you doing here?”
The faint smile on Jeongguk’s face falters.
It’s like he’s only just realized there are other people sitting at the table. His eyes flicker across the unfamiliar faces before dropping down toward the floor.
“Um…” He bites his lower lip, hesitating. “I just… I wanted to give you this.”
He holds out the CD.
The plastic catches a strip of light from the overhead lamps, reflecting briefly across the table.
Taehyung stares at it, his brain scrambling to piece together what’s happening.
A CD? What–
A snicker slices cleanly through the moment.
“What’s going on, Kim?” someone says. “We didn’t know you and Jeongguk were friends.”
Hyunwoo’s smirk is wide and obnoxious, and the look on his face makes something hot and irritated twist in Taehyung’s chest.
For a second he considers telling him to shut the hell up.
Instead he forces out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck like the whole situation is nothing more than a harmless misunderstanding.
“We… uh…” he gestures vaguely between them. “We’re just acquaintances.”
The word feels heavier than he expects.
When Taehyung glances back at Jeongguk, the shift is immediate.
Something flashes across Jeongguk’s face, hurt, quick and sharp enough that Taehyung almost doubts he really saw it but it’s gone just as fast. Jeongguk’s gaze drops to his shoes like they’ve suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.
“Oh?” someone else pipes up with a teasing grin. “Is that what people are calling hanging out these days?”
A ripple of giggles moves through the group.
“Shut up, guys,” Taehyung snaps, irritation bleeding into his voice before he can stop it.
The laughter falters.
“Uh… I think I’ll find you later.”
Jeongguk’s voice is so quiet Taehyung nearly misses it.
His fingers tighten slightly around the CD case, the plastic creaking softly under the pressure. He still doesn’t look at Taehyung as he turns away, slipping back into the tide of students moving through the cafeteria until he disappears into the noise and bodies.
For a moment Taehyung just sits there, staring at the space where he was standing.
Then Hyunwoo lets out a low whistle.
“You’re hanging out with Jeongguk? Seriously?” he says, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t know you liked getting your—”
“Hyunwoo.”
Taehyung’s voice is flat.
Sharp enough that it cuts the sentence clean in half.
He leans forward slightly across the table, just enough to make the point land.
“The only reason you even know half the gossip on campus is because you’ve never done anything worth talking about yourself,” he says calmly. “So maybe shut up before I start listing all the people you’ve been trying and failing to hook up with.”
Hyunwoo’s smug grin disappears instantly.
A small, satisfied warmth settles low in Taehyung’s chest.
Without bothering to say anything else, he pushes back his chair, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks away from the table.
It isn’t until he’s sitting in his next class, halfway through a lecture he hasn’t been listening to at all that the realization hits him.
The CD Jeongguk brought him.
Those were the unreleased Bloodwitch tracks.
The ones he had completely forgotten about.
Taehyung knows he has fucked up. Like, really fucked up.
He has not seen Jeongguk since that afternoon in the cafeteria and the longer the silence stretches, the heavier it sits in his chest. This was supposed to be the time he started getting closer to Jeongguk, getting to know him better, working the plan. Instead he has already ruined it.
And now, every time he imagines seeing Jeongguk again, his mind spins uselessly. What the hell is he even supposed to say? Hey can we not talk on campus but let’s be best bros outside? Yeah, that would definitely earn him a slap, even from someone as calm and collected as Jeongguk.
The time does come though. On a Friday night, of all nights, when Taehyung makes a lazy run to the convenience store down the street from his apartment.
He usually stays at the place his father bought for him, a clean little apartment closer to campus. He had pitched it as practical, less commuting, more focus on classes but really, he just wanted space. Freedom from the constant scrutiny of living under the same roof as his father. Minji though, still stays at their father’s house. Sometimes he envies her patience.
Taehyung pushes into the store, the neon hum bright against the quiet night. He grabs a ramen cup and a gimbap without thinking, heading toward the counter, only to stop dead.
Jeongguk is there. Behind the register. Head bent over a notebook, pen moving fast, probably scribbling through an assignment.
Taehyung’s first instinct is to turn around and walk straight out. Maybe run. But before he can move, Jeongguk looks up.
Their eyes meet. For a long, suspended second, neither of them blinks.
Taehyung exhales slowly and forces his feet forward. The sound of his steps feels too loud. When he finally reaches the counter, Jeongguk drops his pen and closes the book, sitting up straighter.
Taehyung sets his food down, lips twitching into a small, almost apologetic smile. He braces himself for indifference, maybe even coldness. But instead Jeongguk smiles back. Soft. Polite.
It makes Taehyung’s stomach twist.
Jeongguk scans the items, the beep of the register cutting through the silence. Taehyung swallows, wondering if this is the right time, if it is too soon, if he should just shut up and walk away. But the guilt gnaws at him.
“About the other day…” Taehyung starts, voice rougher than he intends.
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, eyes wide, shining in the harsh convenience store light. They are so open, so startlingly clear, that Taehyung’s breath catches. He hasn’t seen eyes like that in a long time.
“I wanted to apologize,” he says quickly, stumbling over the words. “I was just... surprised to see you and it came out wrong. It was rude.”
“It’s okay,” Jeongguk interrupts gently. He shrugs like it’s nothing. “I understand.”
Taehyung blinks, caught off guard.
Jeongguk gives a small, almost self deprecating smile. “It was rude of me, honestly. Just walking in like that. I didn’t think... it must have been awkward.”
Taehyung opens his mouth, closes it again. He hadn’t expected this. If it were anyone else, they would be furious. They would have cursed him out, told him to fuck off, maybe never spoken to him again.
But Jeongguk? Jeongguk is forgiving.
And somehow that makes Taehyung feel worse.
“I... ” Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, heat crawling up his skin. “No, it was still wrong. And the rest probably made it even more weird. You... ” his words stumble, awkward, “they shouldn’t have made you feel so out of place.”
Jeongguk drops the scanner with a soft clatter and pushes the items toward him.
“I mean it was a little awkward.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. “But I get why it was like that.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t feel awkward again,” Taehyung blurts before he can stop himself.
Jeongguk’s eyes widen, startled and then his face breaks into a genuine smile. He nods. “Thanks hyung.”
Taehyung can’t help but smile back, the tension in his chest easing just a fraction.
“And the CD, you left before I could take it,” he says.
Jeongguk’s eyes go round. “Yes... just wait a minute.” He turns quickly, rummaging through his bag. After a few seconds, he pulls out the CD case and holds it out like it’s something precious.
Their fingers brush when Taehyung takes it and it sends an odd jolt up his arm. “Thanks. I’ll listen and return it after a few plays.”
Jeongguk shrugs lightly. “Return it any time. I would’ve told you to keep it, but... since it was a gift from Yoongi hyung, that would feel unfair.”
“Yeah,” Taehyung says, smiling faintly.
He pays and gathers his food but when he looks up, Jeongguk is staring at him. Not in a confrontational way, more like he’s carrying something heavy he isn’t sure he should say.
“I wanted to give you the CD a long time ago,” Jeongguk admits quietly. “But I think you didn’t remember.”
“Huh?” Taehyung frowns.
“It was at a party. We were talking about our favorite bands and I promised I’d get you this. But... you were drunk so you probably forgot.”
“Oh.” Taehyung blinks, “I guess.”
“Yeah.” Jeongguk rubs at the back of his neck, “We didn’t really talk after that. I brought it up once but you looked confused so I let it go. So... I’m glad I could give it to you now.”
“Right... ” Taehyung’s throat tightens. He realizes Jeongguk and he have crossed paths more than once, and he’s simply... never remembered. Because back then, Jeongguk wasn’t important. Not like he is now, though for reasons Taehyung hates admitting to himself.
He lifts the CD slightly, forcing a smile. “Well, I somehow got it now, so, it was meant to be, yeah?”
Jeongguk giggles, and the sound softens something in Taehyung’s chest, “Yeah.”
They share a smile but the moment is cut short when the bell above the door jingles and someone else walks in.
Taehyung clears his throat, “How many jobs do you have?”
Jeongguk looks down, teeth catching his lip. “Two.”
“When does your shift end?”
“Three am.”
Taehyung’s brows knit, “That’s late. When do you even sleep?”
“Um... I get three, maybe four hours.”
Taehyung frowns deeper. He can’t imagine functioning like that. He needs eight hours just to think straight. He wonders if it’s money, if Jeongguk’s family struggles but he doesn’t ask. What if Jeongguk has already told him once and he’s just forgotten again?
“That’s unhealthy, Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk just shrugs. “I have to.” And before Taehyung can push, he smoothly changes the subject. “It’s pretty late. When will you go to bed?”
“Uh... after a while.”
“Okay. Don’t you have an early class tomorrow?”
Taehyung blinks. He hadn’t expected Jeongguk to know his schedule. “Yeah.”
“Then you should go.” Jeongguk’s smile is small but warm. “Rest up.”
Taehyung hesitates, reading between the lines. Jeongguk doesn’t want to talk about why he works two jobs. So he lets it go.
“Okay then I’ll get going.”
Jeongguk nods but his gaze lingers, uncertain. “Hyung... are we good? That... that means we won’t stop talking, right?” His voice drops and his eyes flicker down like he is afraid the answer is no. Like he’s bracing for Taehyung to say this was the goodbye.
“Of course we won’t,” Taehyung says quickly, too quickly. He tries to soften it. “We are friends.”
Jeongguk looks up, surprised and then he smiles. “Yeah... friends.”
Taehyung smiles back, but it falters almost instantly. The word “friends” tastes heavy on his tongue, bitter in his mouth. He just knows this isn’t going to end well. And yet, he can’t stop himself.
So he turns, CD in hand and walks out into the night.