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The cars rumbled on as Taehyung tiredly looked at them from across the street in the shelter of a café. Some could say that he was glaring, some could say he was simply staring, but really, Taehyung wasn’t focusing on anything in particular. The cars just happened to be there in his line of sight. He was sitting there by the window, a glass of iced Americano and a chocolate chip cookie within hand’s reach, and his cellphone tucked in the pocket of his jacket. His glass was half-full, or half-empty as he would say, but the chocolate chip cookie was left untouched. He was hungry, yes, but he didn’t find it right to be eating a cookie at the moment. He satisfied himself by sipping small amounts of his coffee and later, chewing on the ice that chilled his drink. All while staring at anything across the street.
His stupor was broken by the sound of a giggle from his pocket, meaning that someone was calling and that someone was Jimin, someone who was with him, his beloved friend, ever since he scraped his knee in the sandbox when he was 6 years old. God bless the boy, if he hadn't called at all, Taehyung would’ve been stuck in that café until someone told him it was closing time.
He took his phone from his pocket, minding the time.
5:35 pm. It’s been three hours, he must be lonely.
He subconsciously swiped ‘answer’ and brought the phone closer to his ear. He was greeted by plenty of harsh whispering and background voices.
He must be at Seokjin-hyung’s place. And considering it is Seokjin-hyung’s place, Namjoon-hyung must be there. If Namjoon-hyung’s there, Yoongi-hyung must be there. If Yoongi-hyung and Jiminie are there, Hoseokie-hyung must be-
“Kim Taehyung!” Oh, right, Jimin was calling him.
“Hey,” he murmured, his gaze, once again, finding purchase at particularly nothing.
He could practically hear Jimin bristle through the phone. “Don’t ‘hey’ me, Kim Taehyung.” Jimin was angry, very angry. Taehyung was sure that he was even growling. He wasn’t even right in front of him, but Taehyung was shrinking as if he could feel Jimin glaring right at him. “Where the fuck are you?”
Taehyung gulped. He knew someone was gonna call him one way or another, but he didn’t expect for them to be this mad.
“Why should I-“
“Don’t lie to me, you ass. I could ask Namjoonie-hyung to track your phone if you don’t tell me.” He said, his tone indicating he was ready to bite Taehyung’s head off if he didn’t say what he wanted to hear.
Taehyung was ready to confess, slightly fearing for his life, but stopped in his tracks when he heard Jimin sigh. Through the phone, it sounded way more like static, but he knew better.
“Please don’t misunderstand me, Tae. I’m worried. Heck, everyone knows and we are all worried. For the both of you.” Jimin said, all anger replaced with sincerity in his tone.
Taehyung sighed. His grip on the phone seemed tighter than when he first picked the phone up. “I’m at the café near your dance studio,” he whispered.
Someone on the other line said something loudly amongst the chaos of background noise. He felt that Jimin was going to say something, but paused abruptly. He could hear the phone being passed around. He nervously played with the straw of his drink as he waited for a reply.
“Taehyung,” Namjoon said through the phone. Oh, they gave it to Namjoon. Taehyung braced himself for whatever was gonna come next, knowing that if Namjoon wanted to talk to him, it would be a serious matter. He resorted to chewing his bottom lip when Namjoon continued. “Jungkook called.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened. Of course he’d call Namjoon. It’s been 3 hours. He’d be looking for him. Not for a cuddle, probably homicide, or assisted suicide, now that he thinks about it, since Taehyung is guilty enough to let Jungkook crush him to pieces. Since he probably hates him so much now.
“Hyung,” Taehyung said, not noticing his voice wobble. He wanted to cry, he felt like crying, but he won’t cry. Not in a public place like a seat near the window in a café.
Namjoon sighed. “I won’t make this too long, Tae, Jimin is itching to snatch the phone from me. Oh my god, please don’t cry.”
Taehyung weakly chuckled. In the background, he could hear Hoseok screech, “He’s crying?! Kim Namjoon, give me the phone, you noodle!”
“Um,” Namjoon said, this time clearly flustered. He cleared his throat and regained his bearings before he continued. “Talk to him, Tae. He’ll understand.”
He nodded, smiling a bit bitterly. Namjoon seemed to take his silence as an ‘alright, hyung don’t worry, I’ll do that’ and immediately passed the phone to someone else.
“Tae. Namjoon-hyung’s right, you know,” Jimin, having received the phone, said. “I know Kook holds scary grudges but he’ll get it.”
Tae wordlessly nodded, yet again. He eyed the cookie that was sitting on a pretty ceramic plate and wondered if Jungkook would appreciate sweets, instead of his head, on a platter.
He could hear Jimin sigh again. Gosh, what is with today that people, including himself, sighed so much? Well, considering that he fought with Jungkook earlier in the day and the whole atmosphere was just downright gloomy, it kind of made sense.
“Do you want company?” Jimin said gently. Taehyung finally relaxed in his seat, noticing that his Americano was way too watered down to continue drinking. Eh, it was a little bit too bitter to begin with.
“Nope,” he breathed. “I’m okay talking with you on the phone.” He’d actually appreciate the company, but his pride smacked him upside on the head and told him to deal with this by himself.
“Yeah right,” Jimin chuckled. With that, Taehyung smiled inwardly. Jimin knew him so well, and him to Jimin, they might as well be brothers. “But, well, you know what I’m going to say right?”
Taehyung nodded, humming a ‘yes’.
“Go back to Kookie, Tae. Apologize. I haven’t had the details, but you love each other to bits,” Jimin urged.
Jimin was met with silence, something Taehyung didn’t intend at all. He simply got distracted by the background noise in the call. Seokjin’s ‘the cookies are ready’, Hoseok’s excited whoop, the clatter of something, most likely courtesy of Namjoon, Yoongi grumbling, and Jimin’s barely noticeable breathing.
“Tae?”
“I just don’t want to hurt him again, Jiminie. I hate to fight with him but we-- I just got carried away,” Taehyung murmured.
“I get you, Tae, but think about it,” Jimin continued. “Wouldn’t Kookie be more hurt if you left him alone, with no explanation whatsoever?”
Silence, again.
“I’ll hang up now, Jiminie. I promise I’m gonna head to his place after I order 9 more cookies,” Taehyung said, standing up, bringing the cookie with him.
“You better.”
+
He tapped in the house key for Jungkook’s-- their shared apartment. He held the paper bag in his hand tightly. It held 10 warm cookies and his dignity (and his love, but don’t tell Jungkook that, Taehyung will never hear the end of it.) with a huge “I’M SORRY” hastily scribbled on a post-it as the cherry on top. As soon as he stepped inside, he noticed something was off.
It was very quiet in the apartment. Taehyung assumed that everything would be in shambles, but everything’s in its place. He thought he’d arrive to Jungkook playing Call of Duty on their Xbox, surrounded by wrappers of that seaweed snack he’s been craving, but the living room was completely devoid of Jungkook and seaweed snacks.
He was slightly stumped. He started considering the fact that Jungkook might’ve left earlier in the day or maybe started hunting for hitmen to collect Taehyung’s dead body. Either way, probably Jungkook’s had enough of him and decided to leave.
Utterly defeated by his own thoughts, he dumped his jacket on the couch and made his way to the bedroom. He still had the paper bag in his hand, probably planning to leave them on Jungkook’s desk.
One thing he didn’t expect though was that his favorite jacket was on the bed when he clearly remembered folding it and throwing it to the closet. Another thing he didn’t expect was the lump that apparently inhabited the jacket and the bed.
Upon closer inspection and a little bit of cursing, it was a soundly sleeping Jungkook wrapped haphazardly in blankets, wearing Taehyung’s jacket (yes, his boyfriend’s jacket, that romantic sap.) Taehyung noticed his eyebrows were scrunched as he slept and he was holding the sleeves close to his face as if he fell asleep sniffing the sleeve.
“Kook, you idiot,” Taehyung said softly, caressing the hair out of Jungkook’s face. Knowing nothing will wake the boy, not even incessant nudging or shouting on Seokjin’s part, he deposited the paper bag of cookies on the bedside table and quickly climbed in right next to Jungkook. He covered them both with a blanket that somehow fell to the floor. Taehyung assumed it got tossed around while Jungkook was sleeping.
“I’m sorry, Kook,” he whispered, kissing Jungkook’s forehead and keeping him close to himself. He carded his fingers through Jungkook’s soft brown hair, fondly looking at the boy’s sleeping face. “I know I was being unreasonable this time and I’m really sorry. And please don’t judo flip me while I sleep.”
He kissed the worried crease in the middle of Jungkook’s eyebrows. He noticed Jungkook visibly relax and he, too, relaxed. He sighed, this time out of an unnamed yet vaguely happy emotion.
“I love you, Kook.”