Kim Taehyung has always had a taste for the simpler things in life.

He loves it when it rains because he can tromp around in yellow rain boots, stomping through muddy puddles, making them splash on those around him.  He loves it when it’s fair weather because the clouds paint pictures for him while the wind whispers poems in his ears, and birds happily provide a soundtrack to the day.  He loves it when it’s nighttime because the man in the moon tells him war stories about how he got the battle scars that mar his face.  He loves daytime because grass and flowers blossom, bashfully flirting with each other and using bees and butterflies as messengers of love letters.  He enjoys playing the piano, even though it’s a jumbled mess of discordant notes because he hasn’t been formally trained, and he occasionally stubs a finger while hitting an ivory key.  

Most of the time, he is simple to understand, even though some of his comments seem to come out of left field and disrupt the flow of conversation.  He’s prone to spacing out, getting caught up in his own musings.  He’s a little bit too comfortable with himself to even try changing.

It’s always been other people that make Kim Taehyung think in depth.

Right now, Taehyung is confused.  He doesn’t understand the knot in stomach, or how or when his stomach got so twisted that it’s painful.  

He wonders why Jungkook didn’t come today.  He always comes; practice is the temple at which Jungkook worships dance.  He’s always early; normally Taehyung walks in on him spinning in front of the mirror.

He’s overcome with a wave of worry because Jungkook doesn’t just not come, at least not without saying something first.  Taehyung frets because Jungkook had gotten into fight, and what if the damage was much worse than what Taehyung assessed?  Taehyung’s mind comes up with several scenarios that get successively worse.  Panics seizes Taehyung’s throat when the final one ends with him placing a flower in front of Jungkook’s headstone.

Fingers snap in front of his face pulling him out of his panic spiral.  Hoseok is looking at him with worry written in his eyes.  “Are you okay?”

Taehyung blinks rapidly, realizing that his mouth is hanging open, revealing half-chewed food to everyone in the room, which is only Hoseok.  It must have been disquieting to see a look of horror on Taehyung’s face as his chewing ground to a halt.

Taehyung swallows roughly, wincing as the food digs into the sides of his esophagus. “Yeah.”

“Didn’t Jungkook tell you? There’s no practice today.” Hoseok says softly, placing a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “Everyone is kind of shaken up, so we agreed to a personal day."

“Jungkook is okay?”

“Yeah, aside from the fact he seems to have forgotten how to operate his phone.”

Taehyung breathes a sigh of relief, unwinding the tension coiling in his muscles.  Jungkook is all right and not bleeding out in the middle of a street after being hit by a reckless driver.  Taehyung pulls himself together, standing on his feet, brushing off crumbs from his snack.

Taehyung offers a smile, which falls off of his face when he realizes that Hoseok’s skin is swollen with ineffective bandage glued to the side of his face.  “Were you…?” Taehyung doesn’t know how to finish his question, so he opts for pointing at his own face to imply that Hoseok was beaten up with Jungkook.

Hoseok looks away awkwardly, “Go home, Taehyung.  I’m sorry Jungkook didn’t mention anything.  I just came to make sure that everyone didn’t waste their night.”

Taehyung nods awkwardly, trying to find a way to leave without somehow offending Hoseok.  He drags his feet and faces Hoseok the entire time that he’s making his way toward the door.  It doubles the amount of time that it would’ve taken him to simply leave, but he just can’t find it in himself to be honest about his intentions.  He only came for Jungkook.

Taehyung walks down the hallway in order to make his way out of the building.  He itches the back of his head because his plans for the evening have vanished in an instant.  In spite of the fact that the pounds of worry weighing down his shoulders have been lifted, there’s still something that doesn’t quite sit right with Taehyung.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking to see if maybe he missed a message from Jungkook.  There is no banner on ruining the image of his background, which only solidifies his concerns about Jungkook.

Taehyung wants to send Jungkook a message, but the fact that Jungkook didn’t even tell him about practice being canceled equates to something about Jungkook being mad at him in Taehyung's book.  Instead of sending off a questioning message without knowing the root of his offense, he decides to get advice from Seokjin.  (Seokjin has always been more in tune with his actions and their consequences than Taehyung could ever hope to be.)

He clicks on his brother’s number and brings his phone to his ear.  It rings for a much shorter time than Taehyung would’ve expected.  Seokjin, for all of his greater attributes, has never quite been able to keep track of his phone.   Normally it takes Taehyung at least two calls before he gets Seokjin.  (If he doesn’t answer after four, Taehyung just leaves a message.)

“Hello?” Seokjin’s voice is rather somber, drained of his normal positivity before Taehyung has even had the chance to greet him.

“Where are you?  I want to have a conversation with you.” Taehyung is forthcoming with his wishes.

Seokjin sighs through the phone, “Come to Yoongi’s house.  We have alcohol.”

Taehyung nods to himself before using his voice to tell Seokjin that he’ll get there.  “I’ll be there in like 20 minutes maybe?”

He hears Yoongi in the background, “Tell him that we’re not waiting for him.” There’s a faint squeak in the background followed by a groan.

“We’ll be here.” Seokjin says with a fake-smile seeping into his voice.  Seokjin hangs up before Taehyung has a chance to tell him goodbye.  Taehyung pulls his phone away from his ear and frowns at it as if Seokjin will know about his dissatisfaction.

Taehyung waits by the bus stop, glancing at the bench.  He can still see the ghost of Jungkook sipping on banana milk while admiring the silly little initials carved into the wood.  It leaves him with a weird sense of nostalgia.

It’s barely been a day since he last saw Jungkook, but it feels like it’s been longer.  It’s certainly been forever since they ate together or drank some milk together.

Taehyung takes a seat and enters his messaging application.  He clicks on the Jungkook’s name, looking at the last time they sort of chatted.  He sighs deeply, but it doesn’t really satisfy anything.  He doesn’t feel any less sad.  The air isn’t quite cool enough to ward away fears and worries.  If anything, it makes him feel heavier.

hi jungkook. i hope you feel better. next time make sure to tell me that you won’t be at practice.  (don’t tell anyone but you’re my favorite).

It’s not a very long-winded text, but it’s miles longer than any of their usual exchanges. It isn’t until he’s sitting on the bus, heading in the direction of Yoongi’s house that he realizes what’s different.

It isn’t the type of text message that is written when he expects a response.  He wrote everything that he needed to say within the span of one message.  He’s just shouting into the oblivion, hoping that someone is on the other side to receive it.

He settles back into the seat, frowning at his phone.  Taehyung can feel himself sinking into a bad mood, a very rare occurrence.  He pockets his phone and focuses on watching the city pass by at varying speeds.  For a moment, he can relate to the television dramas where person A stares longingly out of the window while a montage of moments between person A and person B go across the screen as if to give the viewer a window into person A’s mind.  The moment would be complete if he had an mp3 player with a sad song queued up and flowing through the speakers of a pair of headphones.

Taehyung gets off about a block and a half away from Yoongi’s condo.  He spends the entire walk to his building thinking through anything and everything that he might’ve done to greatly offend Jungkook.  In the process of figuring out what it might’ve been, he comes to realize that Jungkook might just be his best friend.

It gives Taehyung a great moment of pause.  Yoongi has always been more of Seokjin’s friend than Taehyung’s. With Jungkook, Taehyung never got the feeling that he was the mildly annoying little brother of the main event.  With the knowledge of how important Jungkook is to him, it becomes that much more important to him that he figure out how he messed up.  He doesn’t want to go back to being lonely.  He’s just no good at it.

Taehyung makes his way to the elevator, giving the concierge a wave before taking the elevator up.  The concierges in Yoongi's building have never been the friendliest of people.  None of them ever seem to try and match Taehyung’s enthusiasm for life.  Filling out his guest ID form remains one of his most awkward memories; every single joke fell flat.

He knocks on Yoongi’s door, counting Sugar Plum Fairies until someone answers the door.  Yoongi yanks the door open with a particularly blank face.  He doesn’t even invite Taehyung in; he just leaves the door wide open as he walks back into the depths of his condo.

Taehyung almost clicks his tongue at him but refrains because it would be pointless and probably start something.  He walks in, closing the door behind him.  The very first thing he notices is the fact that it smells like cake.

Taehyung groans.  Something is bothering Seokjin as well.

Taehyung pulls out a chair at the table and takes a seat.  Seokjin has an apron on, and he is furiously whisking something together.  His brow is furrowed and he’s gritting his teeth.  Yoongi has taken it upon himself to lie down on the floor like a starfish, his limbs pointing in every direction.

“Hello Seokjin.” Taehyung waves in his brother’s direction.  Seokjin abruptly stops his aggressive whisking.  The bowl clatters against the granite countertop as Seokjin jerks his head in Taehyung’s direction.

“Oh.” Seokjin breathes, “You’re here.” He combs his fingers through his hair, getting some confectioner's sugar in his hair.  It’s already on his cheek.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks.  It’s been quite a while since the last time that he’s seen Seokjin so… messy.

Seokjin looks himself over, smoothing out a small wrinkle on the apron as if that’s the only thing that indicated his emotional distress.  “I’m, I’m great.  Wonderful really.”  Seokjin’s smile is just a little too forced as he prattles, “I have never been better. I’m just fantastic.”

Taehyung looks at Yoongi, “Do you know what happened?”

“No.” Yoongi mutters, rolling his head so that he can make eye contact with Taehyung, “What’s bothering you?”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, “Are we addressing my issue first?  I was the last to arrive. My brother is stress baking in your kitchen, and you are on the floor.”  Taehyung looks around, taking note of the fact that it’s not quite as clean as it normally is.  Well, it’s not as clean as it’s been since Jimin entered the picture and saved them.

Yoongi lets out a rather long groan, pulling himself off of the ground and taking a seat next to Taehyung.  He pushes a half-empty bottle of soju in Taehyung’s direction.  “You’re the youngest.  After you, we’ll try to pry into Seokjin’s life.”

Taehyung runs his fingers along the neck of the bottle of soju, “SEOKJIN!  Emotion crisis summit.”

Seokjin brings the bowl with him to the table, sitting across from Taehyung.  Seokjin is wonderful at worrying about others.  He already has his motherly-concern face on.  His arm doesn’t stop whisking as he asks, “What’s your emotional crisis?”  His voice is purged of his own stress, shifting to fretting over Taehyung’s worries.

Taehyung immediately reflects the question back at Seokjin, ignoring Yoongi’s plan of attack, “What’s your emotional crisis?  Keep in mind that my lips are sealed until you spill.”

Seokjin stops whisking, setting his bowl in front of him, and it’s suddenly as though all of the energy has been drained from his body.  “Long story or foot notes?”

“Long story.”  Taehyung and Yoongi say in unison.

Seokjin lets out a particularly long sigh.  He slouches as he begins, “So you know how I’ve been adding to Yoongi’s collection of vinyl records?” 

Yoongi nods.  Seokjin pauses as he tries to find a proper segue to his main point. “Well, how should I put this?  Namjoon, the guy that I buy them from, is insanely cute.  I mean he’s got these dimples that just make my knees weak.  He’s got this whole sort-of-badass-but-also-dorky-cute demeanor.” Seokjin is smiling very widely.  It’s a smile that Taehyung hasn’t seen for a while.

Seokjin sighs once more, looking down at his hands, “But Hyosang is in town, and he asked me if I wanted to try and work it out.”

“Hyosang is here?” Yoongi interrupts, letting his disbelief show.  Taehyung isn’t happy about it either because Hyosang was never a source of great happiness in Seokjin’s life.  In terms of give and take between Seokjin and Hyosang, Hyosang took everything.

Seokjin chuckles soullessly, “I told him that we could try to work it out.”  Taehyung lets out a squawk of disapproval.  Seokjin holds his hand up, “Of course, an hour after I promise to think about working it out with him, I kissed Namjoon.”

“Your source of emotional turmoil is choosing between a nice person and your horrendous ex-boyfriend?”  Yoongi scoffs, clearly unwilling to think about forgiving Hyosang.

Seokjin frowns, “I would appreciate a little less judgment.  Even if I wasn’t thinking about Hyosang, I don’t know that I’m ready to date.”

“Don’t go back to Hyosang.” Yoongi mutters.

Seokjin makes a face, “I have not decided what I’m going to do yet, so Taehyung, what is the source of your emotional turmoil?”  He shifts the interrogation from himself to Taehyung smoothly, even if it is lacking in subtlety.

Taehyung has managed to put off talking about it for long enough, so he resigns to the fact that he has to tell them.  “I think Jungkook is mad at me.”

“Why?” Seokjin asks as he sticks his finger in the frosting that he’s finally finished whisking.

“Well, he didn’t tell me that there wasn’t going to be dance practice today.”  Taehyung mumbles, avoiding the gaze of his brother and Yoongi.

“What are his reasons for being mad at you?”  Yoongi asks as he dips a finger into the icing.

“That’s what I don’t know.” Taehyung says as Yoongi and Seokjin simultaneously their fingers.  “I’ve thought about it over and over again.  I didn’t do anything.  The last time I saw him, I even helped patch him up.”

“You patched him up?” Seokjin asks, smacking his lips as he turns toward the counter to grab a spoon.

“Yeah.  I disinfected, and I applied antibiotics.  I even gave him good luck kisses.  I did everything by the book.”  Taehyung exhales as he slouches against his chair.

“You kissed him.” Yoongi doesn’t even phrase it like a question.  There’s still disbelief in his voice paired with a shocked expression.

“With your lips?”  Seokjin echoes the disbelief.

“How else do you kiss someone?”  Taehyung gets the feeling that he’s missing something as he looks between Seokjin and Yoongi.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and speaks in a very punctuated manner, “Maybe you crossed a line in terms of personal space when you kissed him.”

Seokjin flicks Yoongi’s ear before offering his brother a smile, “Jungkook might not have been comfortable with your level of…” Seokjin moves his hands to gesticulate a word that escapes him, “You-ness?”

“It wasn’t that.  He told me that he likes me.”  Taehyung huffs as he continues on with his justification of how it has to be something else.  “Clearly, it wasn’t like I walked all over his grandmother’s grave.”

“He likes you.”  Yoongi states as if it’s the key to everything.

It goes straight over Taehyung’s head in spite of the fact Seokjin and Yoongi have exchanged looks with each other.  Taehyung speaks, “Friends like each other.  I wish he would just communicate because—“

Seokjin interrupts him, “Taehyung!  Did he say that he likes you?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

Taehyung thinks about it, “Right after I put the Band-Aid on the corner of his lip.  It was a really tough spot, too.”

“He likes you in a more than platonic sense.”  Seokjin drags out every single word, as if Taehyung is a child.

“In a more than platonic...” It finally clicks for Taehyung.  It’s a very odd moment.  There’s an awkward silence in the room as Taehyung does quite a bit of mental math.

He walks himself through it over and over again, and the more that he thinks about it, the more he understands.  It makes sense in terms of evidence, but it doesn’t make a lot of sense that Jungkook would like him.

“Oh,” escapes from Taehyung’s lips.

“Oh.”  Seokjin echoes him to reaffirm his realization.

“Oh.”  Taehyung says again.

Seokjin raps his knuckles on the table, looking away from Taehyung.  He seems to finally notice the slight disorder to Yoongi’s house.  His brow furrows, “Jimin is doing a terrible job.”

Yoongi frowns, “That would be because I fired him.”

“You did what?” Seokjin asks in a monotonous voice with his face on the precipice of a glare.

“He went into the studio, which was a breach of contract.”  Yoongi says it as if he’s several times removed from the scenario, “I don’t even know how he got in, but he won’t get another chance.  You should probably send him his severance.”  Yoongi’s voice ends quietly; the first real sign of how much it might affect him.

Seokjin groans, extending his arm across the table to take the soju, “I’ll regret this later.”  He mutters before unscrewing the lid and knocking the bottle back.

a/n: okay first thing is first. i wrote the beginning part of this chapter in May. so if it feels awkward i'm very sorry.  i hate writing out conversations because i can never get the conversation to flow while writing what they're doing, which is deplorable.
does this chapter answer anything? if it does, is it satisfactory?
this chapter probably isn't very special, it's just a change in perspective, breaking from regularly scheduled programming
good gosh.
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comment.

*sigh* what am i doing.