It’s always a mistake to check his crappy disposable phone in the morning. 

 

In Taehyung’s defense, it’s around 9:30, morning sun slanting through the tiny window facing the water, and his brain is still groggy from the lack of coffee.

 

Taehyung is wiggling into his grey swim trunks when his gaze flitted towards the backpack on the floor. He is going to ignore the impulse, he really is. But his thoughts linger for a moment too long, and with a sigh, he finds himself picking up the backpack and fishing out the phone. 

 

There’s only a bit of battery left, and one simple message awaiting him: one emoji, of a silly discombobulated face, crooked eyes and tongue sticking out. 

 

It’s not Hoseok, that Taehyung can tell, but who else could it be. He hesitates, but types up a response eventually: hi. 

 

Taehyung waits for a beat, and is just about to stash the phone away when it rings, startling him. He clears his throat and picks up, “Hello.”

 

“Oh good, I was starting to think I texted the wrong phone. Does it usually take you three days to respond to a message?” The voice is bright and teasing.

 

Taehyung clicks his tongue, “Name please or I’m hanging up.”

 

“Really, V? You can’t tell who this is? Wow, I’m hurt, I really am.” 

 

Taehyung sighs and waits, until the voice adds hurriedly, “Ok ok, don’t hang up. It’s Loey, remember? Your genius partner in crime, the other half of your successful mission?”

 

A grumble, “I’ve never heard your voice before. Also, it’s against policy for you to track me down and call me, so I’m still hanging up.”

 

“C’mon, would you do that to a good friend? I thought we understood each other now? You know, now that we are partners and all?”

 

“We did a mission together, by assignment.”

 

“Yeah but isn’t that fate? Isn’t it amazing we finished the whole thing in one day? And there were other ones before, I mean you always stuck with Victoria but -“

 

Taehyung cuts him off sharply, “What do you want? Get to it before the whole agency hears about you breaching protocols and tracking me down.”

 

A high pitched chuckle reverberates down the phone line, making Taehyung shiver, “Silly V, of course I scrambled the call. I’ll clean up the record afterwards too, I stole my dad’s level zero clearance, even higher than Helios, surprise! Nobody will know a thing about this.”

 

Sloppy, sloppy, dropping identification traces like that. Taehyung hums but doesn’t respond. 

 

Loey continues, “So, how’s vacay? Nice and tropical, never coming back to the mainland?”

 

“Loey…”

 

“Ok ok, getting to the point, yes, jeez. Do you want to stay on your vacation forever? Do you want to be free? There, is that to the point enough, hehe.”

 

Taehyung freezes at the words. This has got to be a trap. He answers carefully, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, if there’s nothing urgent, I gotta go.”

 

“Aww V, don’t play coy with me. Nobody else will hear this call, remember? I know Victoria and you never wanted to be a part of this agency, that it’s pretty much the opposite of what you stand for.”

 

Taehyung frowns, “Stop bringing that name into the conversation, she’s - she’s no longer around, why do you keep bringing her up.”

 

“Because, I know she matters to you, still does.” Loey’s voice turns quieter, the air of silliness dissipating, “We all have people that matter to us, there’s no need to hide that, or pretend it’s not so. I know I’m probably the last person you would listen to, but what if I tell you I’m on your side, what if I can help you out?”

 

Taehyung rubs his face hastily, “I don’t need help. I’m fine. You can tell Helios that if you want.”

 

“I’m not here to do his bidding, au contraire mon ami. Do you realize you’re not the only one that can’t get along with Helios? He’s so - ugh - old school, all about wars and physical damages, casualties.” A huff, and Taehyung can almost picture an eye roll, not that he can match a face to Loey, “People like you and I have the power to incite war of an entirely different kind, you know, by a few clicks of our fingers. What a terrible waste of talent.”

Taehyung sits down on his single bed, and comments, “So theoretically, assuming this isn’t another elaborate trap of some sort, you’re telling me that you’re against him.”

 

“Well, those are strong words…” Loey chuckles casually, like they are discussing something as harmless as picking an ice cream flavor, “Let’s just say that I side with people that have different opinions on how the most secretive branch of the US intelligence agency should be run. Helios is not the only person that can run the show.”

 

“And how do I fit into this?”

 

“I just don’t like seeing friends suffer, you know? You deserve to be free, not trapped because of what you did in the past. Which, by the way, wow. I mean, being a lead member of LulzSec? That’s sick, man. Super duper cool.”

 

What you meant to say is helping me would make Hoseok look like a bad leader that can’t even control his own people, Taehyung keeps the thought to himself and hums noncommittally. 

 

“So, what do you think?”

 

“I think you’re crazy.” Taehyung states the truth for once.

 

A loud laugh, “Of course I am, what else? Hmm I get the feeling you still don’t trust me. How about I show you then? I can find you a few things, and we can talk? You know, I actually spotted a few odd little digital traces a few weeks ago. They felt very, how do I put this, signature Victoria…”

 

Taehyung bites back a gasp. There’s no way. Hoseok must’ve searched every corner of the world for her, there’s no stone left unturned. But he curbs the simmering frustration, and keeps his voice as calm as he can muster, “Whatever you wish to do, I guess.”

 

The voice on the other end brightens up, like a wisp of cloud suddenly moves away and unveils the sun, “Alright then, I’ll be back soon with info to share, I’m sure. Keep in touch, Taehyung, don’t be a stranger? You know I’ve always -”

 

The name makes him cringe, but Taehyung doesn’t have time to dwell on the thought. He ends the call determinedly as footsteps approach. Two light knocks on the closed door follows, and Jungkook’s gentle voice, “Ready to go?” 

 

Taehyung adjusts his expression before hollering back lightheartedly, “Yes!” 

 

-----

 

Kahekili beach is languid in daytime, the silvery haze of the night all but replaced by toasty warmth of the blinding sand and faint hints of wild flowers in the salty air. 

 

It’s deserted as always, forgotten by the tourists who linger around open bars of the main town beach, deemed by the locals to be too narrow and unassuming. 

 

Taehyung breathes out of relief at the empty beach and drops the oversized foam board onto the sand. Perfect. “Baby waves, I know you don’t trust my swimming, but is this enough for surfing? Don’t you always do your lessons at main beach?”

 

“That’s just the easiest spot to gather, plus, the tourists all like the photo ops. Big waves, Halania in the backdrop… Kahekili is nothing flashy.”

 

“I’m not big on flashy.”

 

“I know you aren’t. Also, I’ll tell you a secret-“ Jungkook inches closer, invading Taehyung’s thoughts with his radiant warmth, “-it’s actually way easier to learn in smaller waves. Instead of fighting the water, you save your energy to practice the basics.” 

 

Taehyung nods. Jungkook bends down to push both their boards to the side and check on the ankle straps, and his tanned back is exposed, a map of sinuous muscles and taut curves. There’s always a rhythm to Jungkook’s movement, each task performed efficiently but with care and purpose. Taehyung stares, as his tangled thoughts unfurl under the lazy afternoon sun. 

 

“I was hoping you’d be a good student, you know, since you said you wanted to learn and stuff. But… well…” 

 

Taehyung hums, dazed, only to meet Jungkook’s gaze as he turns and looks straight into his eyes.

 

“Seems like you’re too busy staring.” Jungkook grins at the words, making Taehyung’s cheeks burn.

 

“I was ahem just paying attention to my instructor.” Taehyung points at the waves hurriedly, “So what do I do now? Just jump in there?”

 

“Let’s practice the proper form on the beach first, easier this way.”

 

Taehyung smirks dramatically, “No need. You forget I’m from Cali, I’ve seen people surf a million times. Legs bent, face forward. Hang loose, brah.” He extends his thumb and pinky, curls the rest of his fingers, and waves his hand knowingly.

 

Jungkook stares at him and sighs, “Great, this is even worse than I expected. Show me then.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Show me how you’d stand on the board.”

 

“Um, ok…” Taehyung clears his throat. Maybe he shouldn’t have put his foot in his mouth like that. What he didn’t want to mention is while he’s seen plenty of people surf, he was never a part of that clique growing up. Never really a part of any clique if he’s being honest. 

 

Oh well, here goes nothing. 

 

“So you get up…” he steps on the extra wide foam board that Jungkook has picked for him despite his objection (“How am I supposed to carry THAT?”), and tries not to wobble, “Ahem, and then you just um… stand like this?”

 

He points his left foot straight and moves his right foot to the back, and bends his legs. Yep, this feels about right, Taehyung nods to himself. Suddenly, a set of hands pushes on his back, sending him stumbling into the sand. Taehyung looks back at a grinning Jungkook, “Hey, that’s not very professional!”

 

“You’re goofy.”

 

“I guess I am but, that’s also not very nice of you to say.”

 

A chuckle, Jungkook’s eyes gleam against his bronzed skin, reflecting the warm sunrays, “No, you landed on your right foot when you were off-balanced. That’s called a goofy foot preference. Brah.”

 

Taehyung blinks a few times at his extended right foot in the sand, “Oh.”

 

“Now try again, this time with your right foot in the front.”

 

Taehyung complies, and stiffens when Jungkook’s hands lift his arms up gently. 

 

“Looking good. Sorry for pushing you, the test for dominant foot only works if you’re unaware. I can make it up to you later.” Jungkook’s gravelled voice is close to his ear, the last sentence fading into a whisper, making Taehyung shiver pleasantly. 

 

“And what your hip surfer friends failed to tell you, is that the pull up is almost more important than your standing position.” Jungkook gets down onto the ground, and lies on his belly. “See, paddle with your body mid-length on the board, not too up front, not too in the back. Then when you’re ready, grab the sides of the board with both hands, push up, and pull your feet from under quickly. Remember to engage your core.” In one fluid motion, Jungkook pulls up and lands on his feet in the previous stance. His wavy black hair ruffles as he flips up his head, fine white sand speckling on his dark arms like powder sugar. 

 

Taehyung averts his gaze quickly, refusing to be called out for staring again. He murmurs while kneeling down clumsily, “Engage my core… Does it look like years of coding magically gave me a core to you…”

 

“Hmm? Question?”

 

“Nothing.” Taehyung pushes up his cheeks and exaggerates a smile, “No question. Clear as mud.”

 

Jungkook observes him for a beat, then comments, “You’re not very coordinated. Let’s keep repeating that motion 20 times. Up and down, up and down, it’ll then come naturally when we go into the water.”

 

Ugh. Taehyung gets up again and huffs with quickened breath, trying to remember when he signed up for such a workout. 

 

----

 

He’s forgotten how humbling the ocean waves can be. Pretty foamy things that cascade walls of crystalline azure from a distance, yet when he’s in the midst of it, when the salty fluid teases in his throat, and the current slapping against his back, making him dizzy, the worst thing he can do is to resist, to fight back. 

 

Taehyung coughs to rid of the water in his throat, and pushes against the sides of the board to propel his torso upward. On the back of his mind, the motion practiced on shore flickers by like ghosts. Pull up, push feet from underneath… So simple, yet his body responds awkwardly to the desire for success, tumbling and crashing into nothing each time. 

 

He’s sure to fall again, it’s probably been a good half hour already, trying over and over, paddling back and forth. His arms are sore, legs wobbly before even getting back on the board. Maybe he should just give up, the physical things were never his forte-

 

“You’re thinking too much again.” A voice pipes up from next to him. Taehyung turns to see Jungkook swimming languidly, one hand resting lightly on the edge of Taehyung’s board. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Don’t think, just do.” Jungkook’s wet hair bobbles in the gentle waves, tiny beads of water on his dark skin gleaming in the sun, “Pull up and trust that the waves will take you to shore.” 

 

Taehyung wants to scoff, to tell him it’s easy for him to say these things, but as always, the warmth in Jungkook’s voice gives him pause. Lying on the surfboard, with soaked hair drooping over his forehead like a wet dog, he tilts his head backwards and meets Jungkook’s gaze, “Maybe I just at surfing, maybe it’s just not for me…”

 

Jungkook’s head bops along the azure waves, one hand resting by the edge of Taehyung’s board, “It’s not just you though, right now.” 

 

“Huh?”

 

Jungkook gives his board a teasing shake, “Of course surfing is not for everyone. But that’s what I’m here for. You’re not alone on this, in fact, you have the best teacher in Halaina. And I’m telling you that you can do this, we can do this.” He smiles, and nudges his head decisively. 

 

Something with Taehyung stirs at the words, something hidden in the recess that he hasn’t dared to remember. Biting his lips, he turns back to face shore, and hears Jungkook add, “Here comes another tide, try again, Tae. Trust the wave, and trust me.” 

 

The waves are surging beneath him again, flapping, swelling, like a shapeless monster trying to throw him off its saddle. Instead of tensing up his shoulders and resisting the dizzying movement, Taehyung surrenders and relaxes his limbs. Ebb, flow, up, down, he rises with the wave, and as it crests under him in a million splattering beads, Taehyung pulls himself up on the board, legs shaking, hands pushing out instinctually to balance himself.

 

The waves splash and wobble under his feet, and the reflection of the sun from the water makes him squint, but Taehyung takes a breath and tries to become one with the motion, with  it all. 

 

Trust. Not alone. 

 

He half anticipates the inevitable fall again, when his clumsy body finally gets rejected by the watery element, face slamming into the salty water, eyes filled with the clamour of the sea. But something is different this time. His feet are a little steadier, his body softer, more malleable. 

Who knew having noodle legs could be a good thing. Taehyung chuckles inwardly at the thought, and gives the wave full reign to take him for as far as it wants.

 

Before he knows it, the sandy beach flashes ahead, and the water underneath turns shallow. Taehyung aims for hopping off the board coolly, and lands on a stumble where his face almost eats sand. He breaks the fall with palms on the beach, and finally allows his sore limbs to relax. 

 

“Told ya you could do it.” Taehyung looks up, and sees the silhouette standing next to him, tanned torso casting a comforting shadow on him. Jungkook’s face is dark and framed by the blinding sun, warm gaze unwavering.

 

Taehyung grins, all toothy and spent, as peace seeps into every tired cell of his being. 

 

-------

 

The bonfire spot is visible from the house, about a quick five minute walk to the right. Namjoon mentioned the gathering to them a week ago. Taehyung thought it sounded dreamy, who doesn’t love the idea of a crackling beachside fire against a golden sunset over the waves. 

 

“You forget who are all coming.” Jungkook warned, “It’s usually more chaotic than ‘dreamy’.”

 

How could a hip young 27 year old surfer channel the spirit of a grumpy elderly when it comes to socializing, Taehyung has no idea. No matter, he’s determined to enjoy it. Nothing, not even the phantom beeping of the cheap disposable phone hidden in the bag in his bedroom can ruin this night for him. 

 

After they change out of their wet swim trunks, Taehyung helps Jungkook carry all the firewood from the backyard shed to the charred bonfire spot. Jungkook is methodical about the placement of the wood, picking out the longer pieces and angling them loosely atop of each other. Taehyung lets him be, and works on making a separate stack on the side for spares. 

 

After about an hour of going back to the shed and adding to the bonfire piles, Taehyung straightens the work gloves Jungkook made him wear, and peers at the massive pile of wood in front of him suspiciously, “It’s starting to look a bit absurd, I think we have enough.” As if on cue, a piece slides off the impossibly high pile precariously. 

 

Jungkook saunters over and tosses the piece back into the pile, “Just a bit more. Jin will make us do it sooner or later. He hates to be cold.”

 

“He can never leave the island then, I don’t think he would appreciate the Midwest definition of cold.” 

 

Jungkook busies with his hands without looking up, “He won’t leave. Some of them cannot survive without this land, they wither when they’re away.” 

 

Taehyung gazes through the wood pile absently, into the sea, the words tugging at some buried thoughts, gnawing. 

 

After Jungkook is finally satisfied with the firewood, Namjoon is back at the house to help bring all the dusty plastic chairs out. Jungkook fills a large blue cooler with ice and a very random assortment of beer from the fridge (“I recommend not checking the expiry dates on these.”), and pulls out the acoustic guitar from his room. Namjoon digs up enough old blankets to keep a small army warm, Taehyung half pictures Jin buried under a mountain of blankets in front of the biggest bonfire the world has ever seen. 

 

By the time Jin drives over with Jimin, the sun is already dipping low by the horizon, splattering the waves in shimmering gold and bright orange. They bring spicy plantain chips in large bowls and warm hugs. Jungkook gathers the smaller wood chips and newspaper to start the fire.

 

Taehyung finds a seat on a long wooden log closer to the bonfire, next to Jimin who’s already curled up in a chair.

 

“Take this.” A hand reaches to the ground and grabs one of the blankets for him, and Jimin’s eyes twinkle under his bleached bangs. 

 

“I’m ok, not cold at all.” 

 

“Take it.” A teasing glare, Taehyung complies, and Jimin adds casually, “‘is not for warmth. For comfort.” 

 

Taehyung folds the blanket up a bit, and drapes it around his legs. The faded retro fabric of crimson and navy geometric shapes is soft under his fingers. He inhales the rising scent of burnt wood in the air, and relaxes his shoulders, “You’re not working at the bar tonight?” 

 

“Decided to give my liver a break tonight.” 

 

Taehyung eyes the glass beer bottle in Jimin’s hand skeptically. The reflection of the growing fire glints off the glass. Taehyung catches Jungkook standing on the other side and admiring the large flickering flames with a satisfying grin. 

 

Jimin speaks, “I heard you got a surfing lesson this afternoon. Was the teacher any good?”

 

Taehyung shakes his head ambiguously, “So so. A little pushy, but I guess I did learn in the end.” 

 

A chuckle, the sound sweet and musical, “I thought he would’ve been gentler with you, of all people. What a .” 

 

Taehyung rolls his eyes in pretend mockery, “I think he’s actually harsher with me. You know, teach the tourist a lesson in humility sort of thing.” 

 

“Oh he definitely doesn’t think of you as a tourist.” Jimin takes a big swig of his beer, and adds, “I’ve never seen him hang out with a malihini more than once. JK is usually a, how do I say, ‘get ‘er done’ kinda guy.” 

 

Taehyung winces at the words, “Does he um, get ‘er done a lot?” 

 

“Well…” Jimin sinks into the seat and yawns, “The thing with island life is, it’s cozy and all, but there are only so many of us. And you run out of fun options fast, can’t around with your friends too much.”

 

“Is that what I am? A fun option?” 

 

Jimin arches a brow, “Oh, at least one of you finally admits something is going on. That’s progress. Namjoon says JK doesn’t even tell him when he sleeps in your room, for a while there he couldn’t even figure out where Jungkook went every night.” 

 

Taehyung’s cheeks burn, he blames it on the roaring flames, and shifts in his seat. 

 

“It’s fine. I’m happy for you two, we all are. JK is a softie deep down inside, he deserves to finally find someone, to be happy.” 

 

Taehyung blinks rapidly and retorts, “No no, we’re not - I’m not - not staying around. This is just a vacation, I’ll be gone soon. He knows that, I’ve always made sure of it.” 

 

Jimin turns to scan him, his oversized bomber jacket swallowing his torso, “Are you really leaving? But why? You enjoy being here, and everyone likes you.” He nudges his beer bottle towards Jin, who’s slapping Namjoon’s arm giddily as he tells a new joke he just heard, “Jin was just talking about what to cook next time you’re over.” 

 

Taehyung gulps, “It’s a vacation, vacations are meant to end. It’s not real life.” 

 

“Ouch. I didn’t realize we weren’t real.” 

 

Taehyung rubs his face, “That’s not - ugh - what I meant to say is - I… I can’t… can’t stay, shouldn’t…” 

 

“Why not?” 

 

The flames dance and climb into the darkened sky, casting flickering shadows on all the seated figures. 

 

Taehyung is tongue-tied. He wants to keep silent, to change the subject, but Jimin’s gaze is focused, piercing through his defense, “I don’t belong here. You guys are at home, you’re connected to here, to each other. I’m not, never really had a hometown…”

 

The scent of smoke and salty ocean air reminds him of something long forgotten. Of another set of pretty brown eyes, and a crescent smile that made him feel cared for. Taehyung swallows the bitterness in his mouth, and hears Jimin respond, “Not all of us. I still remember the first time I saw JK, haha, all clean cut and collared shirt, never seen an ocean before in Pittsburg. And Yoonji, she sure put up a hell of a fight when she first got here, I had bets on how many months she would last before running away. Namjoon still owes me money for that.” 

 

Jimin’s gaze is downward, his bleached bangs hiding his eyes, “Home is where you make it, when you decide you want to belong. We all make that choice at some point, no matter how scary it feels, don’t you think?” 

 

The words take Taehyung by surprise. He stutters, as the radiant heat of the bonfire kisses his skin. The bright embers crackle and pop with a life of their own. 

 

They sit in comforting silence together for a moment, wrapped in distant whispers and laughters from the others, until Taehyung’s drifting thoughts are dragged back by a sharp jovial voice next to him. 

 

“Wow, look at you, almost sober!” Jin exclaims at Jimin, the ginormous chip bowl squarely cradled in his arm. Jungkook is trailing behind, half shielded by Jin’s broad shoulders. 

 

A huff, and a snapback, “At least I’m not a cheap drunk.” 

 

“Hey! I told you to not use that word! Economical! An economical drunk.” Jin shrills, finally earning a beaming smile out of Jimin. 

 

“Yes, yes. Economical. Whatever you prefer. At least Yoonji is not here today to get embarrassed by your shenanigans.”

 

Jin glares, but the laughter spills out freely, “You guys are the ones sticking your tongue down the throat of some malihini on main street. When I drink, I just stick around here-“

 

“Yeah, and skinny dip and get spooked by stingrays like a five year old. Yoonji was too ashamed to go to school the next day.” Jimin rolls his eyes dramatically. 

 

“She was not! And what’s wrong with skinny dipping anyways, right Taehyung?” 

 

All eyes laser onto him, and Taehyung gapes and freezes in the spot. 

 

In the corner of his eye, Jungkook shakes his head pleadingly and mouths a silent “not me”. 

 

“Um…” Taehyung stutters and trips over his own words, “I mean...I’m…”

 

“What he means to say is it’s really getting cold out here.” Namjoon steps up and magically produces a blanket in his hand, “Here, love, lemme put this on you.”

 

Jin stays still and smiles as the blanket is draped over his shoulders, “You’re right, it’s getting windy, something about a storm coming on the radio. Good thing the little monkey is not out tonight, she’d never stay under a blanket.”

 

“Where is Yoonji anyways?” Jungkook pipes up.

 

Namjoon the chip salt off his fingers, and responds, “Sleep over at her friend’s. So Jin is staying here for the night also.”

 

“Yep, I heard you don’t stay with Joonie much anymore. Someone’s got to keep him company.” Jin chirps, and Taehyung’s cheeks burn against the flames again. 

 

“And you wonder why we don’t have new friends.” Jimin rolls his eyes at Jin, “Stop making Taehyung feel weird.” 

 

Jin wiggles his brows at Taehyung, “Aww a joke or ten makes the heart grow fonder, no? He’s a big boy, he can handle much more.” Jin fluffs his own hair haphazardly, yet his gaze is probing. Taehyung looks away hastily.

 

The chats stretch jovially into the night, and the fire glows against the darkness, cracking and flickering every time Jungkook adds chopped wood to it. Taehyung listens most of the time, watching as Jimin’s cheeks turn ruddy as a pile of empty beer bottles grows next to his chair, and Namjoon’s hand draws small and reassuring circles on Jin’s arm. For a moment there, with the glowing amber in front of him, surrounded by all the love swirled into the woodsy smoke of the bonfire, Taehyung’s shoulders droop and relax.

 

When he looks around again, the night sky is mottled greys and black, stars shrouded behind the tendrils of rising smoke. Jungkook has quietly appeared next to him on the wooden log, with a guitar in his hands. 

 

The strums start haphazardly, like thoughts that flicker and fade. Pretty notes, faint tunes, accompanied by Jungkook’s melodic voice that Taehyung suddenly realizes that he’s missed so very much. Slowly, a familiar song drifts out, something that felt so foreign to him a month ago, but now knocks on his heart like an old friend.

 

Last night I dreamt I was returning

and my heart called out to you

To please accept me as you'll find me

Me kealoha ku'u home o Kahaluu

 

They don’t say much for a long time, after the song ends, but Taehyung can feel it, the silent comfort of having someone there. Someone that accepts him unconditionally. Jungkook never says a lot, but his actions speak louder. 

 

Taehyung blinks when Jungkook’s arm reaches towards him with a can of Kona beer in his hand. 

 

“Trying to get me drunk again?” Taehyung murmurs. 

 

A shrug, “Never had to try, you always did it to yourself.”

 

Taehyung chews on his lips to curb the chuckle. 

 

He hesitates at the offer, but eventually shakes his head. Jungkook tilts his head quizzically, ripped Nirvana t-shirt billows a little in the wind, “What happened? You feeling sick or something?”

 

Taehyung shifts on the log, “What’s that supposed to mean, I can’t stay dry for one night?” 

 

“Well… I thought, you know, that whole drink to get drunk thing.” Jungkook leans in closer and scans him, “Did you get hurt from the surf? Sunstroke? Pulled muscle?”

 

“I’m fine. It’s October, dad, pretty sure getting a sunstroke is physically impossible.” Taehyung draws out the words like a petulant kid. 

 

It’s nice though, to whine through someone’s care. Taehyung can’t remember the last time he’s had the same luxury. That’s the thing about shutting the world out: you realize that the messy and mundane bits of human interaction are the most precious of them all.

 

Jungkook pops open the beer, and eyes the ruffling palms behind them, “The wind is picking up more.” 

 

Taehyung hums, “Are you worried about the bonfire?” They are seated apart on the log, and Taehyung half wonders if he should sit closer. Jungkook is always warmer. Cozy.

 

“I’m afraid you won’t get to see drunk Jin making a scene tonight anymore…” Jungkook’s gaze is still on the trees, the flames dancing fiercely in front of them, reflecting in his dark brown eyes like fireflies, “The  storm is coming.”

 

By the time the wind begins to howl, and Jimin and Jin both complain of bonfire smoke getting into their face, it’s time to pack it up. The plastic chairs are stacked up back in the shed, the millions of old blankets are folded up neatly by Namjoon and Jin, before disappearing back into the recess of the house. Jungkook shovels sand over the dying flames, and the two of them stand there for a beat, staring at the glowing warm ember that refuses to extinguish. 

 

As they step up the cracked concrete steps behind the house, Taehyung can hear Jin next to his parked car, chattering on about how they need to plan for another meal together soon now that this night is cut short. 

 

“He’s probably just dropping off Jimin, he’ll be back.” Jungkook comments, then after a pause, adds, “I can still sleep in my room though if you prefer.” 

 

The wind ruffles Jungkook’s messy curled hair in the dark, and Taehyung reaches out to tug at the frayed edge of his t-shirt. The corner of Jungkook’s lips curls, and Taehyung feels his heart unfurl like a piece of scrunched up letter finally being opened up and read.

 

When the door creaks close behind them, the world fades away, as always, receding into a pleasant static fizz. No light, except from the window behind the thin fabric curtain, gleaming blurrily like misty memories of the moon. 

 

“Don’t you need to lock things up in the shed-“ Taehyung’s words are swallowed up by warm lips. Unhurried but absolute, with a hint of saltiness. Like the sea. 

 

Arms embrace him, making him shiver. Words are breathed into him, as Taehyung leans in and closes his eyes, “It’s fine. Namjoon will do it later.” 

 

Jungkook’s torso is pressed into his, hands grasping on his back mindlessly, as they melt into the kiss, breaths erratic yet in sync with the other’s heartbeat. 

 

It took Taehyung quite a few nights to admit to himself that everything physical about Jungkook is addictive in the most subtle and puzzling way. The warmth of his skin, the smell of his damp hair, the wet slide of his lips on Taehyung’s exposed collarbones. He thought it was just lust at first, some desperate need for human touch after being alone for so long. 

 

But he was wrong, so wrong. Taehyung chokes out a suppressed moan as they fall into bed together, sandals sliding off their sand speckled feet. 

 

Jungkook is like another drug that he cannot walk away from. Vanilla at first scent, but makes him all hot and vulnerably nostalgic once consumed. Nostalgic for the affections he’s never had, for a home he doesn’t deserve. The thought flashes across Taehyung’s frazzled mind as Jungkook’s weight straddles him down deliciously. And as Taehyung always does when danger inflames his body with adrenaline, he responds by reaching in for more. More friction, more hunger, more wet gasps and lewd moans. More lust to burn it all off, the fear, the pain that never leaves, all his regrets and guilt. Burn it all until he no longer exists. 

 

“I need- I need-“ Taehyung’s fingers dig into Jungkook’s back, head leaning up urgently, lips searching. 

 

A low chuckle that gets under his skin, “Slow down, take all you need.” 

 

Taehyung’s cheeks burn but he no longer cares. His one hand grasps onto Jungkook’s back, the other fumbles to guide him to enter. 

 

Jungkook pauses, head dipping low to whisper by Taehyung’s ear, “It’s ok, I’m all yours.” The words are mixed with half gasps as he s into Taehyung, the movement exquisitely slow and intensional. 

 

It is different, the heavy breaths that fan Taehyung’s skin, the familiar burn and stretch, everything feels a little more raw, more exposed when he’s sober. He’s afraid to see his own lust reflected in Jungkook’s eyes, afraid of silly words spilling out of his lips in the heat of the moment, like water that splatters out of a dropped glass, making a mess of things. 

 

Jungkook’s torso is pushing down on him, bending his legs and rounding his back like a toy folded over. His hand grazes by Taehyung’s , teasingly slow that stay in sync with each pump of his hip. Deeper and deeper, until their heated skin sticks to each other, until Taehyung can feel the other’s throb in their shared breaths.

 

Jungkook’s lips trail along Taehyung’s bent legs, smearing faint kisses on the skin. His eyes gleam in the darkness, encouraging his every whimper and arch, as if Taehyung is the only one in the world that matters. The only one he loves. 

 

The thought flashes across Taehyung’s mind, making him blink hastily and avert his gaze. Love, what a strange word. What does he know about it anyways, of all people. Yet something trills in his heart, as desire hazes his vision and flushes his skin. A tiny voice that echoes and refuses to be silenced:

 

If only once. If only to be loved, for one fleeting moment. 

 

The words blurt out in a whisper, before he has the strength to snub them as always, mixed between the moans and the blinding need for release, “Can you… can you pretend to love me, just for tonight…”

 

Jungkook pauses and gasps for air, “Hmm?”

 

Embarrassment burns like searing flames, at the realization of what he just uttered. Taehyung snaps his head to the side, “I’m sorry- I- just ignore-”

 

A grunting exhale, and Jungkook shifts, hands landing on Taehyung’s shoulders, warm and absolute, “Hey.”

 

The air in the room suddenly chills, drawing goosebumps on Taehyung’s skin, but he looks back reluctantly, biting his lips hard. There’s a frown between Jungkook’s brows, and a weary glint in his eyes that Taehyung can’t quite decipher. 

 

Taehyung wants to apologize, wants to reach in and wipe the frown off his face, but he just lays there, mouth agape, cheeks burning, waiting for the shame to land through Jungkook’s inevitable response. 

 

Jungkook leans in closer, and sighs, breath ghosting over Taehyung’s skin. After a pause, his lips search out for Taehyung’s. Careful, but determined, the kiss lands deep in the recess of Taehyung’s tense mind, seeping in like a drop of ink blooming in water. Words are mixed in between soft lips, so faint that Taehyung can’t tell if he conjures them up on his mind, “Love you.” 

 

Something within Taehyung cracks open at the words, no matter how artificial they may be. But before he can dwell on them, Jungkook’s kisses come down punishingly hard, smothering all his thoughts into flames. His ing picks up pace, hand Taehyung’s rhymically, forcing a high pitched moan out of him. Taehyung’s hands grasp into Jungkook’s skin, and his back arches higher and higher, until their ragged breaths culminate into a single point that releases and stretches out endlessly. The final snap is such desperate relief, shattering all the tension in his limbs. He lies still for a long time afterwards, collapsed and boneless in bed, with the weight of Jungkook on top of him, anchoring him down. 

 

Taehyung drifts into sleep shortly after. It’s nice to escape the world for a moment, and pretend none of it exists. On the back of his darkened mind, the wind roars, stirring up millions of raindrops that knock on the window incessantly, trying in vain to warn him of impending danger. Taehyung gasps and screws his eyes shut, willing for himself to stay in slumber. But inevitably, the denial ends when a hand shakes on his arm, jostling him awake. 

 

Taehyung rubs his face in the dark, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The door is half open, Namjoon’s tall figure looms just outside the frame. Taehyung stiffens habitually, when he spots Jungkook’s tense expression. 

 

“We need to go.”

 

“What happened?” Taehyung pushes his body up with one arm.

 

“Yoonji...” Jungkook pauses but forces the words out uncertainly, “Yoonji is gone.”