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yubboh · 3 years ago

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can you stay a little longer (cause i don't know who i'm gonna be) - chapter 1

Taehyung really lucked out when he picked the new apartment. The streets are quieter than he expected, but not too far from the necessities. He could easily go from a shopping center to a grocery store, to a restaurant, to a bank – You get the idea. Everything he could need is close by, which is a relief, because when he left Daegu, he told himself to keep only the necessities and that’s exactly what he did. So, with Baekhyun in possession of most of his previous décor, and Taehyung just that morning deciding that standard items like bookshelves and coffee tables were absolutely not necessities, Taehyung’s new place is pretty bare bones.

Once the last box is emptied and properly disposed of, Taehyung takes a step back and looks around his bedroom. The bed is made, and his one nightstand houses the lamp his mother gifted him two years ago. His laptop sits lonely at the foot of his bed. The closet is filled with his clothes and shoes, and even though it’s a one-bedroom apartment, the closet is big enough to fit a wardrobe of two – a fact made even more obvious by the way Taehyung’s things don’t even take up an entire half.

He moves out into the living room, continuing to take note of everything he still needs, now that he’s all moved in. His phone is charging on the floor in the living room, no coffee table or side table to set it on. He has no couch, not even a TV, and he groans internally, regretting how hasty and nonchalant he’d been that morning. Sure, he could sit in bed and watch movies on his laptop. He’d done it throughout college, and it did, technically, work out just fine. But what about comfort? Taehyung from this morning had, like an asshole, shrugged it off as “future Taehyung’s problem” and now here he was, future Taehyung, suffering the consequences.

His journey through the bathroom yields tremendously better results – he’d kept his shower curtain and all toiletries – so he’s not really worried there, and Taehyung has never been one to approach a kitchen with a smile, so the lack of more advanced equipment like a mixer had never bothered him before, and he doesn’t see it becoming an issue any time soon. That had always been more of Baekhyun’s thing, whereas Taehyung was a pro at remembering exactly where it was they’d gotten their favorite dumplings that one time while they were buzzed. He’s bound to be able to put those talents to good use soon.

Overall, the place is smaller than he’s used to, but maybe that’s for the best, at this point. He can’t imagine trying to furnish a two-bedroom apartment right now, isn’t sure he’s ready for that mentally or financially. But it might be nice to get a dog. He’d always wanted one, but Baekhyun was “allergic” – a term which Taehyung had come to learn after a few months really just meant that he hated them.

All the effort that went into moving left Taehyung exhausted and hungrier than he’s been in a long while, but the ramen in his cupboard just doesn’t sound appetizing, and truthfully, he doesn’t have the energy to cook it. He picks up his phone from where it’s charging and sees that he has a stream of texts from his mother, asking for updates, and – embarrassingly – he has notifications from dating apps. He finds himself blushing as he goes into his phones settings and changes them to not push through any notifications – the last thing he needs is to wake up to messages like “where do I have to sign to get your package?”.

On his last night out with his friends, he’d let them bully him into downloading the apps, and honestly, Taehyung hadn’t seen the point. He was awkward, hadn’t been on a date in so long, and knew these apps had a certain reputation. Not only that, but dating apps had led to the end of his marriage. Does he really need that cruel reminder? Plus, the most obvious objection – was Taehyung even ready for a new relationship? He knew right away, the answer to that question was no, would be no for the foreseeable future, whether his friends liked it or not.

He opens the apps, telling himself he’s just clearing the notifications, and spends a few minutes going through profiles. No one really stands out all that much, but there is one profile – the guy’s face is a bit too close to the camera, distorting his nose and eyes in a way that suggests he might be attractive but doesn’t quite know his angles. Taehyung goes to dismiss it, takes a closer look at his bio – he says likes animals, singing, and is a kindergarten teacher. Taehyung likes kids, loves dogs, and who doesn’t sing when he or she is taking a shower? So he figures, why not? He looks at the guys other pictures, and there’s one of him in a suit and - well, Taehyung isn’t blind. He looks good. Really good. So good that Taehyung has to go back to the first photo to make sure it’s the same person. He’s just so good looking in this photo. They have the same freckles – on their cheeks and under the bottom lip, so it must be. Taehyung doesn’t know what comes over himself – he swipes right, then closes the app quickly, embarrassment from earlier back. Hadn’t he just told himself he wasn’t ready? Is that really all it takes, one cute photo?

The road not too far from his apartment, that fancy road that holds everything Taehyung could desire and more, he knows it houses a café; he’d seen it in passing while on the way to his new apartment. The café had had bright lights and (hopefully) comfy chairs, where he could rest for the first time all day. It takes Taehyung less than a minute to grab his wallet and make up his mind to go to the café. If anything, it’s a good excuse to get out of the apartment, explore the neighborhood a bit.

A bell jangles above the door when Taehyung pushes it open, and a worker smiles tightly at him from behind the counter. Taehyung looks around and is surprised that it feels a bit smaller than it looked on the outside, but he doesn’t mind; it still looks nice. It has a warm atmosphere that draws Taehyung in.

“Hello, please seat yourself and we’ll be with you in a moment.”

While the café had looked overwhelmingly busy earlier in the day, early evening in the café was a peaceful, calming affair. There is only a handful of customers spread generously throughout the building, and the light chatter, Taehyung finds, is pleasant.

He nods in response to the worker and grabs the nearest two-person table he can find. He quickly settles on a soup and sandwich combo but flipping through the menu gives him something to focus on, something mindless he can do to preoccupy his hands, and he really needs that right now. If he’d only brought his phone with him, he could have mindlessly scrolled through social media, maybe even gone through his dating apps some more.

It had been entirely his choice to make the move, and he wasn’t regretting it quite yet, but some doubts are starting to trickle in. This is his first time living alone in his life, and here he is, doing it in a new city with no family or friends. Not even an acquaintance to make awkward small talk with while he stood in line at the movie theater. This was so unlike him. All he can do is stare at the milkshake offerings and remember what his mother had been saying for the last few weeks, come up with what he’d say in response if she were sitting on the other side of the table right now:

You can’t run away from your problems, Taehyung-ah.

Yes he can. He can and, well, while he wouldn’t exactly classify it in his mind as running away from his problems, he kind of did do that, huh?

Your whole life is here.

While manipulative enough to tug at his heart strings, that was a driving factor behind leaving. Everything Taehyung had ever known was in Daegu. His whole life, including the part of his life where he’d been with and been left by Baekhyun. Taehyung would very much like to move on from that life.

What about your job? You worked so hard to get your degree and you’re giving it all up, just like that?

His job was hardly bearable most days, and the degree he’d gotten was what his family had nudged him towards, not what he really wanted. He had no problems giving that up.

Are you really going to let one bad decision affect your whole life?

Yes. As seen by his new location.

Taehyung knew he couldn’t have stayed. It had been a spur of the moment thought, sure, but there was a reason he had grabbed onto it with both hands and let it drag him away. He couldn’t live the rest of his life as a zombie, bumping around in that apartment and not feeling anything. He’d been in Busan only a handful of hours and he’d already felt more here than he had in the last few weeks he’d been in Daegu. He knew he’d needed to make a change, and it was too soon to tell if this was the right one, but something in his gut told him he was at least moving in the right direction. And at least that was progress, right?

After a few minutes his server approaches the table. He’s cute – beautiful, really. He has full, pouty lips and hooded eyes, and he’s wearing grey contacts. His hair looks like it was probably styled impeccably earlier in the day but is now a bit disheveled. The guy pulls it off, though. The server – Jimin, his nametag reads – takes his order with a smile, and just as he’s about to turn back to the kitchen, the bell above the door jangles again, and his eyes flick to the source of the noise. Then his eyes narrow, just enough that Taehyung knows he doesn’t really mean it. He sends Taehyung another friendly, customer-service smile, and heads back to the kitchen, and Taehyung turns to look at the newcomers, who have somewhat noisily settled into a booth near him.

It's a group of three guys, around his age, and one giggles loudly as he watches Jimin walk away.

“Aw, Jiminie doesn’t look too happy that we’re here.”

“I told you we shouldn’t come here, hyung,” another says softly. His hair is dyed a nice, golden blond, and it compliments his honey skin tone wonderfully. He pulls a menu from its stand at the edge of the table and slowly flips through it, like Taehyung had just done. “You said it was busy during your shift this afternoon, and Jimin’s been here all day.”

The first guy shrugs, and the third glances up from his phone, makes eye contact with Taehyung, who tries desperately to act like he hadn’t just been watching them longer than was necessary. Taehyung attempts to mind his own business, but he still hears when the last guy says, “We would’ve come here anyway, it’s not like we ever go anywhere else.”

After listening (he’s trying not to, really, they’re just so close to him and he forgot his phone at home (wow, the new apartment is “home” already), so he has literally nothing else to do but sit and wait for his food to come) for another minute or so, Taehyung gathers that the three are friends with the server, and the first man who spoke works the early shift in the café.

Jimin comes back out then and approaches the three in the booth. He sighs heavily before speaking. “What do you want?”

“Excuse you, Jiminie, is that any way to speak to your hyungs?” It’s the third man, Taehyung thinks, who says this. The first man giggles again.

There’s another heavy sigh, this one longer. “Hello, hyungs, what do you want?”

“Just our usuals, please, Jimin,” says the second man.

“I don’t wanna make any milkshakes tonight if I don’t have to. You know they’re a pain in the ass, Hobi.”

The first man humphs then. “Water is fine.”

The table quiets down then, and Taehyung is curious about what’s happening, because Jimin isn’t walking away, but it’s none of his business, as he keeps telling himself. It’s not until Jimin brings his food out a few minutes later that he realizes with a start, that oh, they’d been talking to Jimin about him?

“Listen,” Jimin says, hovering at the edge of Taehyung’s table with his tray braced against his side. “My hyungs are sitting at that booth there,” Jimin nods his head towards the other three, “and they said to tell you that you can join them if you want.”

Taehyung gapes for a moment, then looks to the other three, who are already watching him with varied levels of interest. The first man is smiling broadly, the second has scooted over to make room on the bench beside him, and the third guy has a small smirk. “Oh, I, uh. I-“

“You don’t have to,” Jimin says reassuringly. “I know they’re annoying, I’ll tell them to leave you alone.”

Well. This is unexpected. Taehyung could say no and eat his meal feeling uncomfortable, his back towards the three men he just turned down. Or he could say yes and join them, sit uncomfortably at the table with the three men he has never spoken to in his life, but stared awkwardly at like today is his first day allowed out in civilization.

“No, it’s okay, I. Yeah,” Taehyung nods. “I’ll sit with them.”

And it’s a bit awkward at first. Taehyung settles into the spot that was made for him and Jimin sets his plates and his drink down in front of him with another smile, this one not quite as reserved as the first. Then he fixes his friends a stern look, says, “Play nice,” and walks away again, but slowly, like he knows he needs to keep an eye on his friends.

The food looks good, really good, and in the silence that followed him sitting with these three complete strangers, his stomach growls. Loudly. His cheeks flush and he looks down, fingers running up and down the handle on his mug of hot chocolate. “Uh, sorry. Thank you for letting me sit with you.” He fleetingly makes eye contact with the man sat across from him, the third man, and he bows his head slightly.

“That’s not necessary,” the man waves him off, gives a small shrug. “You looked sad and lonely, and we felt bad.”

Oh, good. Taehyung’s first night in Busan and strangers already know he’s a depressed loser. Can they sniff out the divorce, too?

“Yoongi hyung!” the second man scolds. Is this Hobi? The one Jimin refused to make a milkshake for?

“What?” Yoongi asks, scandalized. “Don’t scold me, Namjoon, you thought so too.”

Namjoon flushes. “That doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

“It’s okay,” Taehyung says. Yoongi is giving him a look that is entirely too apologetic for the situation, and Taehyung flashes him a small smile to say all is forgiven. Yoongi’s answering smile is grateful, relaxed. Taehyung thinks he might like Yoongi. “He’s not wrong.”

“Don’t let him get away with that,” the last friend, Hobi (it has to be Hobi) says, shoving Yoongi. “We’re trying to teach our hyung some manners.” (There’s an indignant squawk from Yoongi here, and Namjoon pats his hand comfortingly.) “Speaking of, I’m Hoseok.” He reaches out a hand towards Taehyung, and Taehyung accepts his handshake. Hoseok’s hand is warm and his fingers curl around Taehyung’s gently but firmly. It’s nice. Taehyung introduces himself and Hobi gestures towards his food. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung. Now eat your damn food before Jimin yells at us for disturbing his customers.”

Hoseok’s smile is gentle, kind, with just an undercurrent of a threat underneath. Taehyung picks up his spoon, if only because his stomach chose that precise moment to growl again. Hoseok chokes back a laugh.

The other two introduce themselves to Taehyung briefly, before the three pick back up on their conversation.

“No, but did you hear what happened to JK on Wednesday?” Yoongi’s voice barely contains his obvious amusement and as Namjoon shakes his head, Yoongi takes a deep breath. “One of his kids puked on him. Twice.”

“Again?” Namjoon gasps. “That has to be the third time this month!”

“You never know what those kids are putting in their mouths, honestly. I’m more impressed it’s only the third time he’s been puked on this month.” Hoseok laughs again, and it’s bright, cheerful. Taehyung finds himself smiling around a spoonful of soup, despite the fact that they’re now deep in a discussion on vomit while he’s eating. Perhaps it’s for the best the café seems to be a bit dead at the moment.

“Jin hyung said he went for dinner with their parents that night, and he still smelled. He’d taken a shower after work, but they made him shower again before he could eat.”

“Ah, poor JK,” Namjoon shakes his head.

At this point in the conversation, Jimin’s back with their drinks, and he eyes each of them, before settling his gaze on Taehyung.

“They’re being nice to you?”

Taehyung nods, swallows the food in his mouth. “Very nice.”

“Aw, come on, Jimin,” Yoongi gripes. “We’re not gonna bully the poor kid.”

“I heard you call him sad and lonely! The whole café heard it!”

“Yeah, and I also said sorry, and he forgave me, so it’s fine.”

The two stare at each other, both challenging, neither wanting to give in. But there’s a shout from the kitchen, and Jimin flinches.

The server sighs, throws his hands up. “Fine. Your food will be done soon. Please don’t insult anymore customers.”

He leaves again and the conversation picks back up while Taehyung tucks into his food again. “You’ll never believe what I saw at the plant nursery the other day….”

Jimin’s friends were nice. Taehyung didn’t end up contributing much to the conversation aside from the occasional smile, but he isn’t sure he would have been able to add much, and he got the impression that even though he would have been welcome to, they didn’t really expect him to say a lot of anything, which was a relief. He was content to eat his soup and sandwich, sip at his hot chocolate, and observe. Most of what they had to say didn’t seem to be too important, and Taehyung had allowed himself to relax and be comforted by their presence. And even though he wasn’t part of the group, they didn’t make him feel like he was intruding.

Taehyung had shut out his own friends for so long, giving them the bare minimum and only when they asked for or demanded it. It was nice to be with a group of people that didn’t expect anything from him. People that let him just… be.

The walk home is quiet, and when Taehyung is finally back in his new apartment, the first thing he wants to do is flop down on his couch, face down, and let himself fall asleep. It’s with a start that he remembers he left the couch back in Daegu with his parents. If he wants to lay down, it has to be in his (now) unnecessarily big bed in his bare bones bedroom.

Grumbling to himself, he unplugs his phone from where he’d left it to charge, and sticks it in his jeans pocket. Going through his night routine is the first moment of familiarity he’s felt all day, but it brings back memories he’d rather not dwell over. How many times did Baekhyun stand by his side as they carefully rubbed cleanser into their cheeks? How many times did they giggle at each other as toothpaste dribbled down their chins? How much longer was Taehyung going to torture himself with these flashes from the past?

Taehyung tucks himself into bed with his phone in his hand. He finally responds to his mom, a simple Everything’s fine, I’ll talk to you later that he knows isn’t anywhere near the response she deserves, but he can’t bring himself to say anything more. He knows she’s worried – the concern radiating from her general direction is overwhelming, all the way in his new apartment – and a good son would go out of his way to ease her anxiety, but… he’s tired.

He ignores the messages from his friends completely, telling himself he’ll get to them later. It’s not much longer until Taehyung passes out, the side of his face smushed against his pillow and an arm stretched out towards the cold, empty spot in the bed.

#taekook #taekook fic #taekook fanfic #jungkook #taehyung

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