"Hush, Tae, let’s just slip off quietly while Jin’s distracted.”

“I am hushed, why don’t you hush? Ouch! Don’t hit me!” Taehyung rubbed at the tender spot where Jimin had elbowed him in the ribs, pouting. In retort, he tugged on the bright red scarf around Jimin’s neck, pulling the boy into him until his face collided with Taehyung’s chest. They had been bickering off and on all night about the most senseless of things, and Taehyung still couldn’t decide if it was in a good way or not. He wanted to just hug Jimin to him, to squeeze the off-handed aggression out of him, but Jimin pushed away with a roll of his eyes. Were they just play-fighting, or was there more going on? Taehyung didn’t think either of them had an answer, but he wanted any reason for Jimin’s warmth to blossom against his own, so he reached out after Jimin’s retreating form, hugging into him from behind and hanging off of him possessively. Grunting in disapproval, Jimin stomped his way through the rest of the walk to the main exhibit in the center of the park, half-panting and half-giggling as he struggled to tug Tae along behind him.

“You’re so heavy!” Jimin managed, his voice muffled by his scarf. “What, am I supposed to pack you around the rest of the evening?” He looked over his shoulder, squinting through the darkness at the two silhouetted figures they had left. “It looks like they’re talking now, at least.”

“I think they’ll work it out.” Taehyung laid his head awkwardly against the back of Jimin’s neck, squeezing onto him tighter. “Where did the others go?”

“Kiara said she wanted to take Namjoon-hyung to this cat cafe at the end of the park. But I’m not sure where the other two are.”

“A cat cafe sounds fun.” His words suggested that excited was elicited but his tone sounded unconcerned, to the point where Jimin strained to turn and look into his face.

“What?”

“What what?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

“You said ‘what’ first, stupid, I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Don’t call me stupid, jerk. I wanted to know what’s bothering you. You sound like your dog died.”

“Hey, don’t bring Soonshim into this.” He let out a whining sound, nuzzling his head into Jimin’s neck and hiding away from him. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mm?” Jimin paused before answering, and Taehyung felt a cloud of irritation fall over him. “What makes you think that?”

“Just answer me directly for once, Jimin.” He sighed, frustration evident in his tone. Jimin was one of the sweetest, most affectionate people he knew. But the boy could dodge an answer like he was Monkey D. Luffy, bending and molding and stretching his body out of the way of any oncoming attacks, a contortionist for interrogation. “We fought about mochi ice cream, we fought about drink flavors, we fought about whose meat was whose. We bickered about what path to take to the illumination and we argued about when to ditch Jin and Jungkook. The only thing we haven’t fought about tonight,” he squeezed Jimin’s waist a little tighter, to let him know this was a confrontation, not an ultimatum. “Is what’s really the matter.”

“Maybe that’s how we’re working our way through it, though,” Jimin mumbled, staring ahead, his body language stiff and weary at the same time. “Maybe we have to learn what things to let go, and what things are worth fighting about..”

Taehyung sighed, and he saw Jimin’s jaw shift in response to the feeling of his breath against the sensitive skin at the back of Jimin’s neck. He had evaded the question again, but Taehyung saw that Jimin wasn’t just ignoring him - he was actively avoiding for some reason unbeknownst to Tae. But even he had to admit that was probably the most direct answer he was going to get out of Jimin. In his opinion, Jimin was just a little too concerned with what everybody else thought or felt all the time, so it was like prying open an oyster with his bare hands to get Jimin to speak about some things in strict honesty. “I just don’t like it when you’re mad at me…”

A little chuckle escaped the boy’s lips, a light sound that seemed to have a different purpose to it, warm and familiar but weighted differently against the flurries that drifted down from the black sky overhead. “Well, that’s good to know. I would hope you didn’t like it.” He draped his hand across Tae’s where it rested against his stomach. Jimin’s smaller, stubbier fingers didn’t quite cover Taehyung’s long, slender ones, but Jimin’s warmth still seemed to shelter his skin from the cold. “If it’s important, I’ll find a way to tell you, I promise. Okay?

“Okay.” Taehyung shook his head into Jimin’s neck, playfully nuzzling him in such a way that Jimin suddenly erupted into giggles, trying to push out of Tae’s grasp. Still laughing, Jimin shot off across the park, his red scarf trailing out behind him. Taehyung gave chase, calling out an amused, “Chim-Chim!”

He rounded a corner of some trees, nearly bumping into an elderly couple that was strolling through the lights, and discovered that Jimin had vanished. The smile on his lips seemed to drizzle off his chin into a concerned sort of gaping look, and he slowly turned a full circle in place around the main part of the path. Where had he gone? He couldn’t be far. “Chim-chim?”

A small sort of wet sound, like a sniffle or a chuckle, came from behind a huge lit-up Santa, and Taehyung smirked as he rounded the corner. He dashed around it and toppled over onto the Jimin that had been crouched behind it, trying and failing to stifle his laughter. He was horrible at this game, Taehyung thought with amusement. Little snowflakes were caught in the edges of Jimin’s fire red hair, and his nose and cheeks were slightly pink. His lips had a bit of a bluish-purplish hint to them because of the cold, and he shivered even as he laughed, his eyes crinkling in a lovely curved line. Taehyung smirked, leaning in to lay a kiss against Jimin’s pink nose, earning a sound of playful disgust.

“What did you do that for? Gah, you…” Jimin had suddenly fallen deeply into his Busan accent, and Taehyung was pleasantly surprised to find that it somehow made Jimin’s voice deeper, more gravelly. For all his soft smiles, light-voice and small stature in comparison to Taehyung, it was in this realm that Jimin (or fate) had reserved a particularly masculine trait for the red-headed elder. Taehyung could never keep from smiling when he slipped into it, conscious or not.

“I just felt like kissing my boyfriend,” Taehyung said nonchalantly, shrugging. Jimin did a double take, looking at him with wide eyes for a long moment before his nose and cheeks went even pinker. He arched an eyebrow at the older boy, not sure what had caused him to halt.

“Tae…” Jimin mumbled quietly, looking down at their now-damp knees from the snowy ground. “That’s the first time we’ve used the word ‘boyfriend,’ you know..”

“Is it?” Taehyung stopped to think back over the last few weeks. “Huh. I guess so. We’ve just been using ‘soulmate’ for everything.”

“Yeah..” Jimin looked up at his face, a bashful smile creeping across his lips as he chuckled. “Why does ‘boyfriend’ somehow sound like a lot bigger of a deal than ‘soulmate’?”

“I dunno…Weird.”

“I’ve also never said this before, but…” Jimin’s eyes flickered away again, and he shrugged, as if trying to make it less of a big deal than it was. “Um, I like you, Tae.”

“Well, thank god. Otherwise all that kissing would have been really awkward.”

Jimin laughed, elbowing into Tae’s chest again playfully. “Yah, you’re so mean. You’re supposed to say it back to me!” That accent buried deep into Jimin’s voice, slurring the words together with an intangible sort of warmth, letting him know that Jimin wasn’t too upset. He started to walk away, but Tae caught his hand, completely encompassing it with his own. Jimin looked over his shoulder, about to snap back with another playful retort when Taehyung silenced him with a kiss on the cheek.

“I like you, too,” he whispered into Jimin’s ear, taking full advantage of how close it was to the place he’d set the kiss, fully catching Jimin by surprise. He could visibly see Jimin’s body tense in surprise, then flush with happy embarrassment.

“Hey, what’re you trying to pull?” Jimin slurred, rubbing at his ear as though it continued to tickle, even after Taehyung had pulled away. “And I mean, ‘I like you, but not just because you’re my soulmate and all,’ you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung hummed, nuzzling up against Jimin.

“Ugh, it’s too cold, let’s go find someplace warm to sit and dry off, Tae,” Jimin whined, taking the excuse to grab Taehyung’s hand again. Without thinking too much about it, Taehyung slipped their clasped hands into the dark warmth of his pocket, heating their palms up in mere moments. They walked like that for awhile, shoulder bumping against each other, already bickering again - this time about whether ramyun or kimchi jjigae was better comfort food for a cold day.

But that was just how they were.

~~

Hoseok wasn’t speaking to him; hadn’t spoken to him since the conversation in his dorm room, really. To go that long (only a few hours, really) without speaking to anyone would have been a fairly normal occurrence for Yoongi, but somehow it was different with Hoseok. He made Yoongi want to speak up more, made him laugh more and feel more at ease than he had felt for a very long time.

Throughout entire dinner they were both trying to smile and cover up the heavy grayness that weighed down their chests, avoiding each other’s gazes while also hovering around the peripheral. Instead of real warmth and softness, the ease with which they had sang together and shouted playfully back and forth in earnest, it was now replaced by a false heat, the heat of frustration and irritation that rose from the back of his neck across the rest of his body in thick, thrumming waves. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t know what for. Words, which he typically leaned upon to open up the locked away feelings in his head, were now utterly failing him so badly that it was kind of ironic. He’d written lyrics about love before for projects, he had composed pieces that his peers had said were ‘inspired,’ ‘raw’ and ‘honest,’ even though he had been utterly inexperienced with the subject matter. Faking experience was all well and good when you’d spent hours pouring over each syllable and had rehearsed it. Lines that had been written out during those moments in which inspiration (inspiration, that well-known milk and honey of the heart which lubricated the path from brain to mouth) came easily, for they could be perfected, clarified, condensed and expanded upon. But in the moment when he had needed the right words the most, he had faltered, and hurt the person he wanted to understand him the most.

Hoseok walked a few steps ahead of him as they were headed to the illumination, his arm wrapped around Taehyung as they joked about something Yoongi couldn’t hear. The dark-haired boy let out a laugh, hearty and belly-deep, and despite how upset they were at each other, the sound still made Yoongi’s chest loosen a little, relax a little bit more. He knew that Hoseok was still hurting, that he wasn’t faking his hugs and compliments to the others - this was just how Hoseok dealt with things. He seemed to soak up energy from others and turn it out tenfold as if he was the goddamn sun itself, a wheel that once given a little momentum would tumble gratefully off into the distance to spread the kindness and softness. It only took a little bit for Hoseok’s batteries to charge to full capacity, and he would be off like a shot, dancing or calling out or infecting everyone with his contagious laughter. Everyone seemed to recognize him wherever he went - even if they didn’t know his name, or even if they had never seen him before - he was the socially adept butterfly, fluttering from moment to moment with a strength of charisma and charm that belied the delicacy of his craft. Each movement wasn’t calculated, per se, but strategic. He knew his affect on people and Yoongi could almost see him figuring out the best way to make the most of any situation, to bring the most mirth, the bigger smile, the closer intimacy.

Simply put, he was the opposite of Min Yoongi. Rather than being in the moment and propelling it forward, Yoongi allowed life to float along around him, observing moreso than interacting, soaking in and consuming rather than expelling. If Hoseok was a wheel in motion, he was afraid he might turn out to be the rock that threw Hoseok off course. He needed time, he needed understanding, he needed space, he needed comfort. How could he be such a selfish person? After all the attention and care Hoseok had given him, he still felt it wasn’t enough to make them connect properly. But where Hoseok got the most of his energy was where Yoongi felt the most drained. Socializing, even in smaller groups, felt like constantly walking up hill, and it was never long before Yoongi felt he was utterly out of breath, each muscle screaming and aching in the efforts to continue onward “like normal.”

It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy the time with others. Just like walking up a mountain was often seen as a fun recreational activity, so was socializing for him. But not everyone can run halfway up the mountain without stopping to rest, to breathe. And with that achiness setting in his bones and in the back of his mind, he had stepped back from Hoseok without knowing why he felt so drained. Why hadn’t he prepared for it more? Why hadn’t he explained first?

Perhaps he had been hoping, in some quiet part of himself, that Hoseok would be the simple, easy exception. That as long as he was with Hoseok, the energy given off from the sun would reflect onto him like the moon, and he could remain glowing, illuminated and awake. But people wrote poetry because they wished they were as romantic as all that, when they were really just people - needy and particular and annoying, not beautiful like the sun and moon. Hoseok had needed him to communicate, and he hadn’t even done that.

He didn’t know if he could do that.

Jimin shot Hoseok and Taehyung a pointed look, looping his arm around Taehyung’s and leading him off. Yoongi looked behind them on the path, back where Jimin’s eyes were locked, and saw Jin stopped to take a photo, Jungkook at his side. It was time for them to bail on the budding couple. He saw Jimin rush off, tugging Taehyung along beside him as they ducked around a corner to conceal themselves, like this was an amusing game of hide-and-seek-love. He saw Hoseok smile and wave them off, then turn down a path toward a little light-cathedral, the red, blue and orange lights backlighting Hoseok into a suddenly slumping silhouette. Yoongi watched the ducked head slink along the path for a long moment, before his feet decided to follow him, albeit at a bit of a distance.

He didn’t mean to be secretive about following Hoseok, but apparently the boy was too deep in his own thoughts while his hands were buried too deep into his own pockets, to notice him. After a while Yoongi could hear sniffling, and he felt guilty enough to drag his feet a bit along the pavement, giving enough noise for Hoseok to hear him without being too startled. The boy jumped, nonetheless, whirling his head around on the spot and his glassy eyes striking into Yoongi, knocking the breath and words out of him like he’d just been shot.

“Hey…” Yoongi mumbled lamely, unhelpfully.

Hoseok watched him for a long moment, and Yoongi could see his expression crumbling, already caught in a weak moment, his bottom lip curled and started to shake in slow, heavy trembles. He bit down on his lip and turned away without saying anything. Yoongi continued to follow, and they ambled along from light exhibit to light exhibit, standing out of arm’s length. The further along that they continued, the closer Yoongi moved, until he was standing at Hoseok’s side. In the light of an obnoxious looking Santa made out of lights, Yoongi could see that Hoseok had calmed down, and his tears had dried. He took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Hoseok said nothing, but Yoongi could see the muscles around his mouth shifting ever so slightly, in the kind of way that he was never quite sure was even real or visible - Hoseok had things he wanted to say, but he was trying not to say them. So Yoongi decided to try continuing.

“I should have been clearer about what I needed. You’ve been patient with me, and I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.” He at his lips, and found them freezing cold from the slight breeze blowing past them. “I did tell you at the beginning, though, that I’m not good at this whole romance or relationship thing. That I would probably hurt you. I should have just told you then what I meant.”

Hoseok seemed to be listening more, and he was shifting awkwardly, leaning forward to place his hands on the wooden railing there, pressing his weight down on his palms and staring down at the ground.

“Hoseok, when you’re around people that you love, you just seem to glow. You’re so energized, and warm, and...I think that’s amazing. I think it’s one of your best sides. And I think it’s pretty obvious that you need people. But the fact is, I’m not like that. It has nothing to do with fun or boring or whatever, but interacting with people doesn’t energize me the way it does for you. It stresses me out, even if I’m having a good time. My brain doesn’t want to shut off, and sometimes just the sound of someone’s voice can feel like nails on a chalkboard right against the inside of my skull. Sometimes I’m in line at the convenience store and there’s so much going on around me that I want to scream. Sometimes the idea of going out to dinner is the most exhausting thing in the world. But life has to go on, so I’ve learned how to cope. Usually I space out errands, I hit stores at non-busy times, I keep earbuds in, and I take days off. Sometimes a week off, if I can. So it isn’t that you did anything wrong, Hoseok. It’s just that I needed days off and I didn’t know how to tell you that. We’ve been together a lot the last few weeks, and it’s made me really, really happy. But… I’m worried.”

Yoongi leaned forward onto the railing next to Hoseok, able to sense the way the boy tensed up at his nearness. But Yoongi didn’t move closer after that, just looked up at the illumination before them and frowned.

“Music is my thing. It’s the one thing I’m confident in and I’m good at. It’s the one way I can convey myself to others in a way I feel comfortable with, in a way that feels meaningful. But I have to bury myself in it entirely. I spend days at the studio sometimes, and Jin has to come dig me out for me to eat and sleep a little.” He sighed. “And these last few weeks...I haven’t been able to write anything. My head is too jumbled up, and I can’t find any of the right words or sounds to express what’s going on in me lately, and that’s made everything I’ve been making sound like . I was supposed to have two songs submitted for my final yesterday, and I still haven’t turned them in.”

He saw in his peripheral vision that Hoseok was finally turned towards him, and he twisted his body with his weight still on the heels of his palms and met Hoseok’s gaze, and saw the apologetic look in his eyes.

Yoongi smiled. “I couldn’t write anything. Because nothing seemed to fit how you’ve been making me feel. I still don’t have words for it. When I write about love… it’s usually from an outsider’s perspective. It’s easy, then. You can make it beautiful and clean, you can analyze what works and what doesn’t objectively. But now that I’m sunk neck-deep in it, it’s hard to think straight. And that terrified me. If I lost my ability to make music I think I’d lose myself entirely. I--” Yoongi felt like he had more to say, but nothing came out, so he just gripped harder onto the railing and gave Hoseok a little smile. There was only one more thing to say. “Sorry.”

Hoseok let out an exhale, and it seemed to shudder against the cold air. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t know…” He jutted out his bottom lip, the expression like embarrassment. “I think I overreacted. I don’t want you to leave me. I’m...I was scared. Because I’ve been told before that I’m annoying.”

Without him saying it, Yoongi understood. As corny as it was, he just wanted to be near him.

There would be no easy right answer. Life was more complicated and irritating like that. Yoongi would still be moody and needs his own space. Hoseok would still be lonely at times. But along with the heady confusion of being too wrapped up in real, overwhelming emotions that were all tied back to Hoseok, Yoongi knew that he’d been happier in the last few weeks than he’d ever been.

Without having to consciously think about it, Yoongi was reaching out to pinch the sleeve of Hoseok’s jacket. His voice was quiet and searching.

“...Hoseok? I missed you.”

Hoseok smiled, finally reaching out to him. Yoongi ended up against Hoseok’s bumpy, bony chest, and it was unbelievably warm, even through his jacket. His chin rest on the top of Yoongi’s head, encompassing him in that warmth for a long time. Now it was Yoongi’s turn to sniffle.