lustforlife.

Taehyung has never pushed it.

Has always taken you at your word, met you right where you were. Hasn’t tried to change you; there’s nothing to change. Hasn’t tried to fix you; what on earth would I fix, angel, when you aren’t broken. Has always accepted you completely and implicitly, and sometimes that unconditional acceptance feels like freedom, and sometimes it feels like a burden.

Others touch him so freely. He touches them in return, subconscious. Doesn’t even think about it, just does, and you sit and you watch and it doesn’t feel like fire in your belly. Doesn’t feel like jealousy. No, what it feels like is failure, and it feels worse because you know Taehyung would admonish that thought, wave his hand and send it away with the breeze.

But it still sits heavy on your chest. Makes it difficult to breathe.

Jimin laughs with his entire body. Can’t seem to keep his balance when he really gets going, topples sideways into Taehyung’s lap, and Taehyung’s hands move so easily to brush the hair from Jimin’s eyes. They move instinctually. You wonder what it’s like to be capable of something like that. To want something like that. You wonder where it’d all gone wrong for you.

But it’s still Taehyung.

Taehyung, who has never once tried to change you. Taehyung, who has always had a sixth sense for you, because he brushes the hair from Jimin’s eyes and looks up, finds your gaze. Sends you a sweet smile: small and almost shy and reserved solely for you. Love you, he mouths from across the room. You mouth it back.

Taehyung, who rights Jimin and leaves him on the end of the couch, still laughing and emanating so much warmth. Taehyung, who has the weight of a million eyes on him as he makes his way over to you. Taehyung, who makes a detour at the food table and fills a plate with tiny hors d'oeuvres, all your favorites. Taehyung, who gets cornered by a coworker who leans in close and places a hand on his shoulder. Taehyung, who pulls a face and sends you a playful eye-roll when no one but you is looking.

Taehyung, who breathes a sigh of relief as soon as he’s in front of you.

Taehyung, whose smile feels like the sun.

“Hi, angel. Missed you. Are you doing okay?”

You laugh. “You were gone for all of twenty minutes.”

“And they were agonizing,” he exaggerates, “every single one.”

This is where someone else would kiss him, you think. This is where someone else would roll their lips, swallow their laugh, and kiss him. One of those perfect moments the universe hand-delivers. You know it; can feel the low thrum beneath your skin, the quickening of your heart. If you close your eyes, you can feel the press of Taehyung’s lips against yours, and it’d be so easy to just make it real. Less easy to swallow all the fear and anxiety, but you think you could.

For Taehyung, you could try.

Every centimeter you move closer feels like a mile. Taehyung doesn’t notice, not at first. He’s in his own world, excitedly and obliviously pointing at each of the appetizers on the plate and explaining to you what each one is. He laughs as he shows off something wrapped in phyllo dough, shaped like a rose. Makes a joke about buying you a bouquet of them.

“Would you like that, angel? A dozen…”

And he’s still laughing as he asks it—you can feel the timbre in your ribcage—but whatever he wants to say next dies in his throat when he looks up and sees how close you are.

Close enough to breathe in the soft lavender that sticks to his skin. Close enough to watch the way the corners of his mouth twitch with a smile. Close enough to count the moles dotting his skin like constellations. Close enough to feel the way he sucks in a breath, all shaky relief and contentment, the way he always does when you’re close, in his orbit.

Close enough to feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks low, asks, “You okay, angel? Ready to head home?”

You shake your head. Close enough to feel his surprise when you say, “Can you kiss me?”

The smile he’d swallow blooms beautifully, boxy and bright. “Of course,” he answers. “Full send?”

Your laughter puts all the crystal in this place to shame. You nod, and Taehyung places a gentle hand on the small of your back, warmth seeping through to your skin, and the other cups your cheek. Soft, soft, soft—both the press of his lips and the way he touches you.