Chapter Text
Contrary to popular belief Taehyung loves parties.
He loves the loud music and vibrant atmosphere, the feeling of letting your hair down and forgetting about the real world for a few hours, drinking and dancing with people you won’t remember in the morning. He loves meeting strangers, intertwining into one another's lives if only for a moment, floating from group to group to listen to the stories they’ll probably regret telling him in the morning. He loves seeing the ones he knows let loose and come alive, showing parts of themselves they keep hidden during the day. He loves feeling the music in his bones, vibrating all the way down to his soul as he scream-sings the lyrics with his best friends, dancing without a care in the world, all inhibitions forgotten.
Taehyung loves parties.
Most people, the ones who don’t know Taehyung beyond the shallow judgment they make based on his look – the ones who have never delved deep enough to know the Him that resides beyond that – view Taehyung as a serious, dedicated student. And he has the track record to prove it; perfectly written essays, 100% on all his exams, not a single absence from his lectures. He dresses the part too, sweater vests and comfy trousers, round framed glasses and flat caps. So when his classmates see him at parties, letting loose and getting drunk with his friends, it’s fair to say they’re often surprised.
Taehyung has never understood this notion. Has never been able to wrap is head around why everyone thinks he can only be one thing. People are multifaceted; no one is only one type of way. Just because he enjoys putting in the work and getting good grades, that doesn’t mean he can’t also enjoy blowing off steam on the weekends. The way Taehyung thinks about it, life would be pretty boring if we couldn’t have more than one version of ourselves co-existing together.
This weekend Taehyung’s friends Namjoon and Hoseok are throwing a party. Some sort of celebration because Hoseok’s dog had surgery earlier in the week that went well - they’ll find any excuse for a party, honestly. The pair have birthed a pretty notorious reputation for themselves at the university. Taehyung had heard the stories about their soirees long before he’d laid eyes on either of them. It wasn’t until one of his roommates, Jungkook, introduced Taehyung to his new boyfriend that he met Namjoon, and Hoseok by extension, gaining him an unspoken invite to all future parties.
Which is how he’s here, pushing his way through the crowd of sweaty, drunk bodies to where Jimin’s stood, leaning against the wall, drink already in hand.
“Hey!” Taehyung says, raising his voice to be heard over the pounding bass of the hip-hop track playing from the speakers littered around the apartment. He presses his back against the wall, brushing shoulders slightly with Jimin.
Jimin raises his eyebrows and nods at Taehyung, “You took your time.”
“Sorry. I was studying, lost track of time.”
Jimin lets out a hum, not at all surprised by his reason for being 20 minutes late.
Taehyung looks away from his friend and surveys the room. Namjoon and Hoseok's apartment is spacious, the living and dining area is mostly open plan, only separated by a tall archway in the centre of the room. The kitchen is tucked into the back corner, an archway on either wall opening the space up to the rest of the room. Hoseok had told Taehyung that when they had to move out of their first-year dorm’s they specifically looked for somewhere that had ‘exquisite entertaining space’. And they definitely found it. Taehyung would estimate there’s around 100 people all crammed into the apartment currently, most of them squished onto the makeshift dance floor in the centre of the room, the sofas pushed against the walls to make space for them. A handful are littered in the kitchen, leaning against the counters as they refill their cups, chatting casually with one another.
Hoseok’s exaggerated scream piercing over the music drags Taehyung’s attention over to the dining table where a competitive game of beer pong is taking place. He’s jumping around excitedly, high fiving his teammate in victory. The other player has his back to Taehyung, the dim lighting contorting his silhouette, but all it takes is one laugh for Taehyung to know who it is. He’d recognise that laugh anywhere.
Seokjin turns back towards the table, big smile on his face as he aims the ball for a moment before letting it loose, the ping pong ball landing perfectly in the cup, the opposing team let out a groan as Seokjin and Hoseok laugh and high five again.
Most of the lights in the apartment are off, the space mainly lit by fairy lights dotted around here and there creating a laid-back atmosphere. The dining room, however, is lit by a star lamp that Namjoon must’ve highjacked from Jungkook’s room. It litters the dark room with small stars and wave like ripples, the colours slowly ebbing into one another in time with the music. Taehyung watches as the lights cascading Seokjin's face change from blue to purple, a galaxy of stars scattering across his skin and dark hair.
Feeling the lingering eyes on him, Seokjin looks up, catching Taehyung’s eye from the other side of the room. He smiles kindly, his eyes crinkling, and waves a hand in his direction. Taehyung reciprocates, smiling casually and waving back.
And if small flowers bloom in his chest simply at the elder smiling at him from across the room, that’s no one’s business.
“You know you could just go over and talk to him, right?” Jimin says, raising his voice to be heard over the music.
“Who?”
“The guy you’ve been staring at for the past 5 minutes.”
Taehyung drags his eyes away from where he’d been watching Seokjin and squints at Jimin, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” He takes an over exaggerated sip of his drink, eyes wide and boring into Taehyung’s as he sucks on the straw. “Don’t act dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”
Taehyung sighs, “What would I even say? It’s not like we’re friends.”
“You’re not not friends. We’ve hung at with him a bunch of times now it wouldn’t be weird to go over and say ‘hi’.”
Sure, it wouldn’t be weird, per say. Jimin’s right, they’ve hung out as a group more times than Taehyung can keep track of now. Never alone though, Taehyung’s made sure of that.
The game ends, Seokjin and Hoseok winning with an obnoxiously loud cheer and celebratory dance, the small crowd that had gathered to watch laugh along as if on cue. Now, Seokjin's stood leaning against the table, cup held leisurely in his hand as he tells an elaborate story, not caring for the drink sloshing over and splattering onto the floor. Seokjin's friends latch on to his every word, following along with the story, adding in the necessary ‘oh’s’ and ‘woah’s’ exactly where they’re needed, as if they’d all received a script beforehand and Taehyung missed the memo.
He feels his stomach twist into knots at the thought of approaching him. Seokjin's the life of the party, he commands a room just by gracing it with his presence - wherever he is, that’s where everyone wants to be. And Taehyung can’t keep up with that.
He doesn’t say any of this to Jimin though, instead he shrugs and says, “He’s a bit preoccupied now anyway.”
Jimin begins to say something else then, but he’s cut off by a loud cheer as Jungkook approaches them, arms raised, a drink in either hand, the liquid getting dangerously close to the rim of the glass as he dances towards them, swaying perfectly in time to the music.
“Taehyung-ah! I made you a drink!” He yells, voice too loud as it booms directly into Taehyung’s eardrum. He thrusts the drink towards Taehyung, the blue liquid sloshing over onto his hand as he grabs it, already knowing it’s going to dry sticky. “Namjoon hyung bought the tiny umbrellas just for you! I told him you don’t drink anything that doesn’t look like a sophisticated slush puppy!”
“Thanks Kook-ah,” Taehyung matches Jungkook’s beaming smile with his own and slips the straw into his mouth. The cocktail burns his throat immediately, his face screwing up in disgust as he reels back. “Fucking hell what did you put in this? It tastes like lighter fluid.”
“Hmm, not sure. I was trying to make a Blue Hawaiian but we didn’t have rum, so I used whiskey. And the pineapple juice ran out halfway through, so I topped it up with vodka,” Jungkook explains, eyes wide as he recounts his cocktail making process. “Does it not taste right?”
“You might’ve missed the mark this time,” Taehyung takes another sip of the drink, ignoring the burn as he swallows. It’s a party, anyway. Getting drunk is sort of the whole point.
“Maybe it’ll give you some liquid courage.” Jimin chides in, smiling innocently.
Jungkook pipes up at that, “Oh! What for?”
“Nothing.”
Jimin rolls his eyes, “Down your drink and go and talk to him.”
“Talk to who?” Jungkook asks, clueless as to Taehyung’s internal dilemma.
“Nobody. I’m not talking to anyone.” Taehyung nudges Jimin’s shoulder softly with his own in hopes he’ll drop it.
Jimin smirks and but doesn’t push it further, settling, instead, with a teasing, “You’re talking to us.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes and takes another lengthy sip of his cocktail – which now tastes more like Jungkook emptied a bottle of perfume into it rather than lighter fluid. Which is marginally easier to swallow.
He chances a glance over to where Seokjin's stood, still surrounded by a group that only seems to be getting larger. Maybe if he could catch him when he wasn’t entertaining a crowd large enough to give Taehyung stage fright he might be able to talk to him. Maybe he could pluck up the courage for a simple conversation; ask him how uni is, talk about their friends in common, maybe compliment his hair if he’s feeling super brave.
Seokjin catches his eye again then, lingering for a moment before turning back to his group, completely unaffected by the two seconds of eye contact that have Taehyung’s heart rate doubling in speed, his pulse pounding through his ears in time with the music.
He takes another sip, deciding that maybe a bit of liquid courage doesn’t sound too bad after all.
Jungkook cranes his neck to look behind him and follow Taehyung’s gaze. “Oh, Seokjin hyung?” He asks, scrunching his nose as he turns back, “I don’t know why you get so weird around him honestly.”
“I don’t get weird around him,” Taehyung argues.
“Last time we hung out just the 7 of us, he asked you how your essay was going, and you screamed ‘Terrible! It’s due in 10 minutes!” and ran out the room,” Jimin giggles as he reminds Taehyung of possibly one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. “We all knew you’d never leave an essay that late even if you were on your death bed.”
“And you had to walk all the way back from Yoongi’s in the cold cause you forgot he drove us there and were too embarrassed to come back.” Jungkook adds, helpfully as the pair keel over into laughter.
“I was enjoying the fresh air and I got the dates mixed up!”
“Sure, Tae.”
“Hyung was so confused. And a little sad, I think.”
Taehyung downs the rest of his drink, ignoring the burn as it slips down his throat, “Whatever, I’m going to make another drink.”
He pushes himself off the wall and heads into the kitchen, smiling softly as his friends laugh at his obvious avoidance of the subject.
For the next hour or so Taehyung floats around, downing his cocktails in a record speed. Half an hour of that is spent cornered in the kitchen by Namjoon, who enthusiastically shows him the array of tiny cocktail umbrellas he bought specifically for Taehyung. He pops each of them up, laying them out on the counter in colour order for Taehyung’s convenience. More than a quarter of them end up being thrown out after he pushed the tiny slider too aggressively, ripping the paper umbrella and breaking them. He apologises to Taehyung by making him a drink, which he gladly accepts, placing his empty Mojito glass on the side.
He’s pleasantly surprised by the perfect Piña Colada Namjoon hands him 5 minutes later, slice of pineapple perfectly cut and sitting on the side of the glass. He’d opted for two mini umbrellas, “The green one to match your outfit, and the blue one to match mine,” Namjoon had said, dimples popping as he smiled wide, obviously proud of his concoction.
He finds his way out to the ‘dance floor’ after that, Hoseok spotting him instantly and dancing his way over to him. When he reaches him, he doesn’t hesitate to loop an arm around his waist and pull him close, the two of them swaying to the music together.
It takes Jimin a matter of minutes to find them, never missing out on a chance to dance with his best friends. He reaches over Taehyung’s shoulders to clasp his hands around Hoseok's neck, sandwiching Taehyung in-between them as he presses his chest to Taehyung’s back, not missing a beat as he starts to move with them.
Taehyung gets lost in the music then, he couldn’t guess at how long he spends dancing. Bouncing off the swarm of bodies that surround them, jumping around without a care in the world. Jungkook and Namjoon join them after a while, the 5 of them all slightly too drunk to care how silly they look when they stat shout singing the songs to each other and acting out the lyrics in dramatic fashion.
Taehyung knows he’s drunk when it takes him a minute to realise he’s stopped moving and the room doesn’t stop with him. Still, he accepts the shots Hoseok brings over and doesn’t hesitate to take the cocktail Jungkook makes him – he can’t tell if Jungkook’s cocktail making skills have radically improved in the 3 hours they’ve been here, or if Taehyung’s tastebuds are too drunk to care.
Namjoon plucks the tiny umbrella out of the glass and tucks it behind Jungkook’s ear, the rest of them coo at how cute he looks and then proceed to find as many objects as they can to place in his hair.
On his search Taehyung sees Seokjin head into the kitchen alone. He hesitates for a moment, remembering the only reason he avoided him earlier was because of his constant gaggle of friends following him around. Now, though, it looks as though he’s getting a refill alone.
Taehyung squeezes out of the crowd, swallowing his trepidation as he goes. He’s just going to say ‘hi’ anyway. It’s not like he’s going to confess to his crush, drunk, in the middle of a party. He may be wavering close to the ‘one too many’ scale of inebriated, but he still has (some) of his wits about him.
The music is muffled in the kitchen, it’s the only space that’s semi closed-off from the main living area. It’s quiet enough that when Taehyung stumbles after Seokjin, he doesn’t even need to be next to him to hear his conversation. Two men he recognises but doesn’t know by name have already corned Seokjin before Taehyung could reach him. Other than the 3 of them, the kitchen is empty, this late on in the party everyone is either letting loose on the dance floor or have already left.
Taehyung hovers over by the counter at the opposite end of the room, fiddling with the straw in his drink and willing the two people Seokjin's chatting to to leave. He leans against the worktop for a moment and tries to remember why he needs to wait for them to go before he can approach Seokjin. He knows he’s been trying to catch Seokjin alone all night, but he can’t remember why… he just wants to say ‘hi’, it’s not like they need privacy for that. He could very easily go over there and join in the conversation. He walked in half-way through and can’t figure out what they’re talking about, but it would be easy enough to catch on. Judging by their slurred words and the way one of the men keeps swaying, Taehyung guesses they’re not engaged in an intelligent conversation – they probably wouldn’t even care if he interrupted them. Come to think of it, in his drunken state he can’t remember why he was so afraid to go over and speak to Seokjin – maybe something about stage fright? But that doesn’t make sense, neither of them are even on stage.
He downs the rest of his drink, placing it on the counter with a sense of purpose. He’s going to do it. He’s finally going to speak to Seokjin. Jimin’s going to be so proud of him.
“—you know I only like bad boys,” Seokjin says, stopping Taehyung in his tracks, “I can’t stand good boys.”
One of the guys with his back to Taehyung mumbles something he can’t pick up. Seokjin throws his head back and laughs. Taehyung feels his stomach fall to his feet, tying itself into a tight knot as it goes.
“Exactly! They’re so boring! I can’t think of anything that’s more of a turn off than a good boy,” Seokjin wrinkles his nose in disgust at the thought.
Taehyung spins in a full 180, placing both his hands on the countertop to steady himself. He’s so stupid. How could he ever think Jin would even be remotely into someone like him? Because, sure, he wasn’t planning on confessing today, hadn’t even decided if he was ever going to, and Seokjin had never shown any interest in him as anything more than a friend. But he’d be lying if there wasn’t a small part of him that hoped. That thought, maybe the lingering eye contact and soft smiled meant something. Maybe Seokjin wasn’t completely unaffected like Taehyung thought he was – he is an acting major after all, Taehyung would never be able to tell.
He's such an idiot.
Seokjin is so cool and popular, he has his pick of the litter and obviously he wouldn’t pick some nerdy, goody-two shoes. He’d go for someone fun and dangerous, and the exact opposite of everything Taehyung is.
Looking down at his outfit he feels embarrassment crawl up his spine. When he left his apartment earlier he thought he looked good in his white shirt and beige sweater vest, he thought it was stylish how he’d French tucked the top half into his cream trousers. Now, though, all those things are screaming ‘boring’ and ‘turn-off’. They’re reminding him of all the reasons he’ll never be enough for someone like Seokjin.
He screws his eyes shut at the prick of tears, willing the room to stop spinning now he’s in the dark. At the first tickle of a tear, he snatches his glasses off his face, suddenly hating how they feel, how they look, and scrubs aggressively at his eyes willing the tears away.
How could he have been so naïve?
Just as quickly as the flowers bloomed in his chest, they shrivelled up and died.
Taehyung pushes himself off the counter and speeds out the kitchen, wanting to be literally anywhere other than here.
He hears someone calling his name after him, figures it’s Seokjin and starts walking faster. The last thing he wants right now is to speak to him, not when he’s having to bite down on his lip to stop his chin from wobbling.
He surveys the crowd quickly from the doorway, looking for a hint of the familiar blond hair bobbing in the sea of bodies but failing to find Jimin. He’s probably already left by now. He spots Jungkook dancing with Namjoon and Hoseok, the three of them singing loudly along to the music with big smiles on their faces. He pulls out his phone and drops a text in their group chat, not wanting them to worry but deciding not to break up their fun either.
The cold air pierces Taehyung’s skin as soon as he’s outside, the frigid breeze cools the sweat on his arms and causes a fit of shivers to rampage his body. He wraps his arms tightly around his torso hoping to find some comfort and warmth but finding neither.
The walk home from Namjoon and Hoseok's place isn’t long, but it’s long enough for the tears Taehyung had been fighting to escape and run down his cheeks, his breath coming out laboured around his sobs.
He stumbles slightly, his legs failing him as the street spins. Nausea curls around his stomach – that last martini was definitely a mistake. The loud music from the party still booms in his ears even though he’s streets away, now the heavy baseline plays out as one long ringing sound, the street sounding too quiet this late in the night.
By the time he gets home, his face is sticky with dried tears. A collection of new ones wet his face again once he climbs into bed, pulling the covers up over his head as he stops trying to fight them.
He knows he’s being dramatic, knows that the alcohol and emotions aren’t mixing well. But he can’t stop replaying the conversation in his head, he can’t stop hearing Seokjin saying he’s boring, that he’s a massive turn off, can’t stop seeing the look of disgust on his face at the mere thought of a good boy.
Realistically, Taehyung knows Seokjin wasn’t actually talking about him, he knows Jin would never say those things to his face. He’s far too kind for that, and in all honesty, Taehyung knows Seokjin finds him endearing sometimes. He just didn’t realise how intensely platonic that endearment was. Jin probably thinks of him as a boring younger brother or something.
He groans and pulls the covers off his face. He’s been festering a crush on Seokjin for 6 months now, and all it took was 5 minutes for Seokjin to crush all his dreams. And with a conversation that Taehyung wasn’t even a part of. He berates himself slightly for not even trying to find out what Seokjin's type was before tonight, a whole 6 months of pining could’ve been written off if he’d have just delved a little deeper into Seokjin's love life, instead of avoiding it like a plague.
He’d never tell Jimin this, but he sort of wishes he’d confessed to Seokjin all those months ago, or the numerous times Jimin’s tried to get him to talk to him since then. At least then the pain would be in the past now.
At some point he falls asleep, drifting into a heavy slumber as the alcohol relaxes him, all the pain from the last hour floats away for the night.
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When Taehyung wakes the next morning, it’s with a pounding head and nausea swirling in his stomach. After taking a few deep breaths and swearing on his life that he’ll never drink again, he drags himself out of bed, throwing on the first half-decent outfit he can find – a pair of over-sized checked brown trousers and matching button up shirt.
Jimin’s already sat at their small kitchen table, blond hair that last night was styled within an inch of its life now sticking up in all directions. He’s nursing a steaming mug of black coffee in his hands strong enough that Taehyung wrinkles his nose at the stench as he pulls the chair out opposite Jimin and plops down into it.
“I don’t remember much from last night but I’m pretty sure this,” Taehyung gestures to his painfully hungover self, “is your fault.”
“Unfair. I’m not the one who was feeding you 40% cocktails all night like I was getting paid commission on them,” Jimin mumbles, voice sounding as rough as Taehyung feels.
“Mhm. Jungkook-ah was really on a mission last night, huh?”
Jimin slurps his coffee noisily, humming in agreement around the mug. “I think he just wanted you to loosen up a bit.”
“I’m plenty loose sober, you know.” Jimin scoffs. “I am! I could be…”
“Sure you could.”
Taehyung rests his elbows on the table, letting his face fall into his hands as he mumbles, “Last night was a bust anyway.”
He tries to ignore the way his heart sinks as the memories from last night come back in bits and pieces.
“You didn’t talk to Seokjin hyung then?”
Taehyung shakes his head, his light brown curls falling into his eyes. He nudges them up gently to sit on his eyebrows so he can make eye contact with Jimin.
“I have decided to give up. I’m moving on,” he says it with a sigh, but his words are definite. Seokjin couldn’t have been clearer that Taehyung never stood a chance with him.
Jimin opens and closes his mouth a few times as if he’s unsure what to say. Eventually he settles on, “Without even trying?”
It’s unusual for Taehyung to keep things from Jimin, normally they share everything with one another. But something about this is slightly too raw, too embarrassing for even Jimin to hear.
“I think I was kidding myself thinking we could ever work. We’re so different, you know? If it weren’t for our friend groups mixing we never would’ve even met. Never would’ve spoken to one another.”
“You don’t know that. Seokjin hyung's friends with everyone; why not you?”
He gives Jimin a pointed stare, one eyebrow cocked, “We’re from completely different worlds. He would never have time for someone like me.”
Jimin sits up straight and points a finger at Taehyung’s face, wiggling it as he talks, “I do not like that negative attitude! You are a joy to be around and everyone – including hyung – knows it,” He drops his hand back on the table, and slouches down into his chair, sudden burst of energy lost to his hangover. “Besides, you’re making him sound like a dickhead. I know he’s older than us and has this cool popular thing going on, but he’s never been anything but kind and welcoming. He’d never think that little of you. Even if you are very different people; he’s not that close- minded and you know it.”
He's right. Taehyung does know it. Still, he can’t erase the memory of Seokjin practically retching at the idea of dating someone like him.
“It’s not like I don’t want to be friends with him. I won’t be weird or anything. I just… think friends is all we’ll ever be. And that’s okay. It’s fine, honestly. At least with me getting over this crush it gives me more free time to focus on my studies.”
“Because we all know you need more time for that,” Jimin grumbles. “What time did you get in last night, anyway?”
Taehyung hums. He honestly has no idea, he can’t remember the last time he checked the time, he was too busy having fun with his friends and then getting his heart broken – it was a busy night.
“Not a clue. 2, maybe? I did try and say bye before I left,” he says, remembering his eyes scanning the crowd and only finding Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoseok, “But I couldn’t find you.”
“Uh yeah,” he stutters, taking a sip of his coffee, “I left. Forgot to say bye. My bad”
Taehyung rolls his eyes at that, “I wonder who you could’ve possibly left with in such a hurry.”
Jimin kicks him under the table, “You know we’re not talking about that.”
Taehyung kicks him back, smirking a little when Jimin lets out a little ‘ow’ and pouts at him.
“I don’t even remember seeing Yoongi hyung last night.”
“He was there,” Jimin says, his tone clearly hinting the end of the conversation.
Jimin and Yoongi have been ‘seeing’ each other for the past few months but they both refuse to talk about, or even acknowledge it — with each other or their friend group. The whole thing has been exhausting. All of them dancing around the giant elephant in the room, pretending like they don’t notice when they both leave early together.
It took 3 months for Jimin to even admit to Taehyung they were sleeping together, even though they were embarrassingly bad at hiding it. Jungkook and Taehyung caught on within the first two weeks of their dynamic changing. And neither had been surprised, Taehyung had felt the charged energy between the two since he introduced Yoongi to his new roommate, Jimin, when he first started uni all those months ago.
“Me and Jungkook-ah are going to watch a film when he gets home later, if you fancy it?” Jimin says, swiftly changing the subject.
Taehyung lets out a groan, “There is nothing I would rather do. But I’ve scheduled a library day all day today. Essays not gonna write itself.”
Jimin pouts, “You could always reschedule? Who’s gonna cuddle with me until Jungkook-ah gets here?”
“Ask Yoongi hyung,” Taehyung mumbles, a smirk on his face as he stands up and shuffles out the room, an array of curse words thrown his way as he goes.
“I hate you, Kim Taehyung!” Jimin yells after him, but Taehyung can hear the smile on his face. He chuckles to himself as he grabs his bag from where it’s hanging in the hallway, already packed from his Friday lectures.
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Luckily, the library is always quiet on the weekend’s so Taehyung gets his pick of the desks. He chooses a large wooden table hidden in the corner, a floor to ceiling window bathing it in natural light. He takes a few minutes to spread his things out, making sure everything is perfect before he begins writing.
Despite how rough he felt when he first woke up, the walk to the library, and quick brunch he picked up from the café on the way, seemed to ease the worst of his hangover. His headache has dulled to a mindless pain and the sickness has settled to only a few rolls of nausea every half an hour. It’s subdued enough that he can work through it, putting his brain into essay mode and knuckling down.
The project he’s working on today isn’t due for another month and a half, but Taehyung likes to get ahead. That way, he has time to submit at least 1 draft for review before submitting his final work. Not that he often has many revisions to make, he would never submit anything for review that he didn’t deem almost perfect, even if it’s only a draft.
Jungkook used to laugh at him for being so organised, but his laughter died down after they both got the flu. Jungkook had to miss so many lectures he had to retake an entire module. Taehyung spent the whole time resting, not a single stress about falling behind – he was already a month ahead.
He disappears into his work for the better part of the afternoon, head stuck in his laptop, completely disconnected from the rest of the world. It’s only when his stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud grumble in the silent library that he decides to call it a day.
He packs up quickly, reluctant to leave his perfect spot. He’s seated at the back of the main library room, a large hall filled with old bookcase and wooden tables. There’s only 3 other people in the room even though it can probably hold 20x that at full capacity.
There are multiple smaller side rooms off the main hall. Spaces that are more commonly used for group study sessions as they offer more privacy and are less distracting to the students looking for peace and quiet. Taehyung’s only been in them once when he arranged a study date for him, Jimin and Jungkook during their first few weeks at uni. The other two didn’t seem to realise Taehyung was serious about the ‘study’ part, both of them messing around for the entire time. He didn’t arrange a second one.
Still, he’d always liked the idea of the separate rooms. The booths in them are far comfier than the wooden stools in the main library. And the lighting can be adjusted to the persons specification, so Taehyung could dim them to create the perfect studying ambience. He would have tucked himself away in one today, with the library being so empty, but he always feels bad at the thought of taking away the space from a group that might need it more.
As he’s walking past one of them on his way to return the book’s he’d borrowed to their rightful shelves he sees a familiar figure step out of one of the rooms.
Taehyung swears under his breath, darting into one of the aisles of bookshelves to hide. This can’t be happening. On the day he’d finally decided to get over his stupid crush he ends up bumping into said crush. He knows his resolve will crumble if he has to face Seokjin this soon in his recovery.
The universe is clearly out to get him. Taehyung comes to the library multiple times a week and has never once seen Seokjin here. But, of course, today is the day he finally decided to start taking his academics seriously and hide away in one of the side rooms completely unbeknownst to Taehyung.
He always hated those rooms, anyway.
Taehyung shuffles to the back of the aisle, turning to face the shelves as if he’s browsing the books. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Seokjin walk past, heading towards the exit. He lets out a sigh of relief, head falling against the books. He really could not deal with that today.
“Taehyung-ah?”
Taehyung freezes, breath caught in his throat.
“Tae? Hello..? You okay there?”
He straightens out, pushing back off the shelf to see Seokjin's face peeking through between two books, big grin on his face.
“Hi,” Taehyung says, weakly.
“Are you okay?” Seokjin sounds concerned, his eyes darting around Taehyung’s face to see if anything looks amiss.
“Fine,” he chokes out.
Seokjin doesn’t look convinced. His face grows smaller between the books as he moves back, “Wait there.” Please don’t come round. Please don’t come round. “I’m coming round.”
Seokjin appears at the end of the aisle not even a moment later looking as if he just stepped off the runway. Because of course Kim Seokjin doesn’t get hangovers. His black hair is slicked back, perfectly styled as if he were an actor getting ready for his big scene and not stood in the middle of his university’s library on a Sunday afternoon. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt tucked into his blue jeans, a baby pink jacket looped over his arm. Leather sling bag dangling from his shoulder.
Taehyung groans internally. How’s he supposed to get over Seokjin when he’s stood in front of him looking like a Disney prince? Life is so unfair.
“Hey,” Seokjin says again as he approaches. “I wanted to say ‘hi’ to you last night, but you left pretty abruptly. Was everything okay?”
If anyone else was to ask this question, Taehyung would pull a face at their obvious prying. But with Seokjin he knows it’s coming from a place of genuine concern. Jimin was right – as he annoyingly always seems to be – Seokjin is nothing but kind. So much so that it radiates off him. Taehyung would argue that it’s why he’s so popular; you can’t fake that kind of heart.
“Yep,” Taehyung manages out, “Everything is a-okay with me.”
Seokjin gives him a once over, mumbling out an unsure, “’Kay.”
It’s only then that Taehyung imagines how he must look through Seokjin's eyes right now. His hair is a mess, he didn’t bother to brush it. He can’t even remember if he washed his face this morning. He knows the signs of a hangover are all over him, and now he comes to think of it, his co-ord looks suspiciously like pyjamas.
Oh God, what if Seokjin thinks Taehyung literally just rolled out of bed and came straight to the library? He cringes, no wonder he looks so concerned.
“Just finished working. Grind don’t stop.” Taehyung adds two finger guns for effect, and immediately wants to slap himself. Why can’t he speak like a normal person around Seokjin?
Luckily Seokjin just laughs it off, “Too right. No rest for the wicked.”
Taehyung smiles weakly, peering around Seokjin as if a miraculous exit strategy will appear written in the air behind his head.
“I have to go,” he says abruptly.
“Right, of course. Make sure you put those books back in the right place,” Seokjin jokes, nodding towards the small stack of history books in his hands. He looks at the books on the shelf and mortifyingly realises in his haste he’d accidentally scurried down the sex-ed aisle.
He’s about to pull the books closer to his chest and tell Seokjin that obviously he’s going to put the books back in their exact right location. He’s not a monster.
But then an idea strikes him. What if, instead… he didn’t. What if, he put the books back on the wrong shelf, on purpose. Knowing it’s going to make the librarians job harder. Knowing, if another student was searching for these books, they’d never be able to find them amidst the menstrual care section of the sex-ed aisle.
He supposes that would be extremely… bad… of him, right?
The books thud as he dramatically drops them onto the shelf.
“Nope. I’m just gonna leave them here, actually.”
Seokjin stares at him for a moment, as if waiting for the punch line. When it doesn’t come, he hesitantly points to the wall behind Taehyung’s head, “But there’s a sign.”
Taehyung turns to look, and surely enough, Blue-Tac’d to the wall is a giant poster that reads ‘Please ensure all books are returned to their correct sections and shelves. Many thanks from your already overworked library staff’. Taehyung feels guilt curdle his stomach. But instead of following his every instinct and picking the books back up, running over to the history section with his tail between his legs, he doubles down.
“Oh well,” he shrugs, “It’s what they’re paid for.”
He knows he sounds like an asshole. But isn’t that what Seokjin wants? He wants a bad boy and, as Taehyung is very clearly not getting over his crush anytime soon, he might as well become exactly what Seokjin wants.
What could possibly go wrong?
Seokjin furrows his brows but doesn’t say anything else, just pushes the strap of his bag further up his shoulder and nods his head slowly as if processing what just happened.
“Okay, well… I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” He asks, turning towards the end of the aisle.
“Guess so.”
The frown doesn’t leave Seokjin's face as he lets out an awkward laugh and heads back out into the library, disappearing from Taehyung’s view.
Taehyung sighs in relief, quickly grabbing the books and hurrying over to the history section at the other end of the library. He ensures the books are placed back on the right shelf, in alphabetical order, their spines perfectly aligned with the books either side of them.
He can’t believe Seokjin would actually think he’d leave them there. It’s completely barbaric. They live in a civilisation, for goodness sake.
It’s only when Taehyung arrives home that he realises the gravity of what he’d subconsciously decided to do. Obviously he wants to impress Seokjin, it’s normal to want your crush to think highly of you. But the person Seokjin was describing last night couldn’t have been further from Taehyung’s personality. ‘Bad’ isn’t a word that’s ever been associated with him – he strives to be great at everything he does. And in terms of a ‘bad boy’, well, there’s definitely room for improvement. A mountain of room, actually. So much room that the room is entirely empty, void of any bad boy-ness.
If he’s going to get Seokjin to like him back, he needs to prove that he can be bad. He needs Seokjin to see past the good boy persona that everyone else sees. He needs him to believe that Taehyung can be – that he is – bad. He wants to be the furthest thing from boring that Seokjin can think of. He wants to be so far away from ‘boring’ that he can’t even see it, doesn’t even know what it means.
He sighs as he swings the front door open, letting his bag drop onto the floor. This is gonna take a lot of work.
He glances to the sofa where Jimin and Jungkook are both flat out, a loud action film playing on the TV. Normally, Taehyung would enlist their help on a project of this scale. He knows he’s going to need all the help he can get. But asking for their help would mean telling them about what Seokjin said last night. He can already feel the humiliation seeping into his chest. Besides, they look so peaceful curled up together, both clearly nursing their hangovers if the bottles of water and junk food littered around the room mean anything. He decides to let them sleep. He can do this on his own.
He grabs a handful of their leftover snacks and scurries to his room, mind moving at 100 miles an hour. He selects the perfect notebook from his collection of empty ones stacked neatly on his bookshelf. A dark red leather bound piece, the perfect instrument for his plan.
Opening it up to the first page he quickly scribbles out a list of everything he knows about the requirements of being a proclaimed ‘Bad Boy’. There are the obvious things like their laid back, lack of care attitude and their rebellious, rule breaker ways, their ability to care so little about the important things in life like school grades and their reputation. The general aesthetics of it all, the leather jackets and tattoos, motorbikes and cigarettes. And then the more intricate things, the dangerous parts that make a real bad boy bad, joining gangs, breaking laws, being a general nuisance to society.
Dropping the pencil down so it rolls to a stop in the middle of the book, Taehyung sighs. A lot of them can’t be done today. Most of them take time or resources that he doesn’t have. Some of them seem so far beyond his scope he’s not sure he could ever reach them. He doesn’t think he’d ever be bad enough to join a gang – they’d eat him alive – and he’s never once broken the law, not so much as a speeding ticket or sticky fingers to jot down as past experience.
But there is one thing he can do right now.
Tomorrow is his only lecture with Seokjin, it’s the only time the two of them spend time together outside of their friendship group, and whilst Seokjin knows almost every person in the class, the only person Taehyung knows is Seokjin, so they tend to stick together.
The first change he needs to make in his journey to reaching the ultimate bad boy version of himself is obviously his appearance. Taehyung loves his style, loves the clothes he wears, but his comfy trousers and button up shirts, paired with formal shoes and his signature round glasses don’t exactly give off the intimidating vibe he’s going to need if he wants to be even slightly believable. He needs black clothes, tight jeans and leather jackets.
Luckily, he knows just who’s wardrobe to raid.
Jungkook’s bedroom door squeaks as Taehyung pushes it open, slinking in quietly to not disturb the two sleeping in the living room just down the hall. The last thing he wants is Jungkook waking up and seeing him rifling through his wardrobe.
It’s not like they haven’t shared clothes before, but Taehyung and Jungkook are complete opposites when it comes to style; hence why he’s here now, picking through Jungkook’s perfectly organised wardrobe.
The clothes are all hung flawlessly, grouped together by style and then colour (the colours being black-grey-white). He hesitates to pick anything out, all of it too far outside of Taehyung’s comfort zone. He settles on grabbing a few things that Jungkook shouldn’t miss and hopes he can make a couple of outfits from. As he’s running out the door, he grabs the leather jacket hanging on the back and a pair of black boots on the shoe rack.
Next up is Jimin’s room. One thing he knows bad boys love is accessories – probably the only thing they have in common with his dear roommate, Jimin.
Jimin has his jewellery displayed on his desk by the door, each necklace hung on individual hooks so they don’t get tangled. A small box is placed underneath them where he keeps his earrings locked up, out of reach of grabby hands like Taehyung’s. He slips a few of his chunkiest necklaces into his pocket, steering clear of the few he knows Jimin treasures. The box isn’t locked, so he helps himself to a few hooped earrings too, and calls it a day.
He sets his clothes and accessories out ready for the morning, trepidation crawling up his neck at the idea of putting them on. It’s nothing too out there, just a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a fitted black t-shirt and leather jacket, a chunky dog-tag necklace looped around the hanger – but it’s worlds away from Taehyung’s usual style. He can’t even remember the last time he wore skinny jeans or anything black, he always prefers neutral or earth tones.
There’s no way he can be subtle about this. As soon as he walks out of his room in the morning it’s going to be painfully obvious something’s going on. Hopefully, he can play it off as trying something new and his friends won’t ask too many questions.
He flops back on his bed, a swarm of reasons why this is a terrible idea flood his mind, telling him this can only end badly. He pushes them away, residing to deal with the consequences of this endeavour when they come back to bite him.
Huh, that bad boy attitude is already rearing his head and Taehyung’s not even in his costume yet.
It’s still early, but he sits up, stifling a yawn as he starts to get ready for bed. His eyes are heavy from the exhaustion of last night and the persistent remainder of his hangover. When his head hits the pillow, bouncing slightly with the fall, he wills his mind to quieten down, to not plague his dreams with the worry that’s swirling low in his gut. He needs to be on his A-game tomorrow, his mind sharp and to attention.
He sets his alarm for 6AM, switching it to do not disturb and sliding it under his pillow. If he falls asleep right now, he will get exactly 10 and a half hours of sleep. Probably too much, but he’s got a big day tomorrow.
It’s Bad Boy debut day.