ngl yuta lowkey reminds me of tendou

8 chapters left (:

♡♡♡

Taehyung wasn't home when he came back.

What did he even expect? For Taehyung to come running back to him and jump into his arms, kiss him, hold him like he used to, and declare his love for him? After all they said, the hurt they inflicted, and the pain they were causing one another?

It was stupid. Stupid, all of this, but it was his fault for setting the fucking fuse that ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.

When he came back to an empty, dark dorm, the room lacking the usual warmth that he used to bask in. He glanced over at the small kitchenette, chest clenching when he realized there was no light on, no Taehyung singing to himself, and certainly no bowl of cereal with the prettiest boy waiting for him.

And it was then, did his throat began to swell. It stung, the reality of what they did, like a harsh slap to his face which he honestly deserved.

He dropped his duffle by the couch, kicked his shoes off, and wandered over to his room, feeling as if he was sinking into the flooring with every heavy step. If only his heart was numb, maybe this would have been easier, but he knew better.

This wouldn't be easy any other way.

Jeongguk inhaled unevenly, the air struggling to fill his constricted lungs as he clumsily lost his footing. He clutched the doorframe, lowering himself against it, eyes pinching shut while every breath he took was labored, unbearably suffocating.

He fucked up. Fucked up everything. And at this point, no should-have or what-if could ever reverse what he had done. It happened, and it fucked them up. There was no taking back anything.

And certainly, there was no way to forget when everywhere he looked, he saw him.

He saw him and his dorky box-smile, smelled his sweet perfume that lingered even if he was already walking away, heard the sound of his deep laughter ringing against his ear. Heard the ghost of his vowels saying his name, the pad of his footsteps, felt the phantom of his fingers beneath his jaw, and the pressure of his lips on his.

It wasn't fair but at the same time, it was. He got what he deserved, what he knew was impending but chose to ignore.

Hell, Jeongguk could throw a tantrum, scream and kick, and even hit but nothing would give Taehyung back to him.

Why should he get back the person he chose to push away?

Regret— that was it. It consumed him, devouring at every piece of his insides until he was nothing but bone and purposefuly left a heavy heart that tortured him as it fell into pieces he could no longer pick up.

It wrapped around his throat and suffocated him, forcing the air out of his lungs. Made it harder to breathe, to ease his chest before he could start to spin out of control—

Jeon Jeongguk didn't cry. He rarely did.

But now, he wanted to. Fuck, he wanted to.

It was there, that gradual burn behind his eyes. It prickled at his retinas out of frustration and pain. It stung, burned, and wavered behind his eyes, as if it was a dam controlled by his mind except that part of him was already about to crumble.

Jeongguk sucked in a shaky breath, forcing himself to push up against the wall and stand straight. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging himself to stay together but he couldn't.

Taehyung was the person who picked up his pieces and put them back together until he was whole again. No, fuck that. He did more. He rearranged the fragments, putting care and effort into repairing the most fragile parts, and in the end, he managed to weave himself into a spot in his heart that nobody else was ever able to do.

But what did Jeongguk do to him?

He smashed his. Took his fucking heart for granted and ignored it. Stepped on it. Pulled it apart when he put him back together. He broke him when all the older was trying to do was repair him, love him.

Fuck, he couldn't stay here when his entire place just screamed Taehyung's name over and over again. It was silent but deafening, those screams. The regret and the guilty twisting his insides, making him writhe with self-hate.

You lost him. You fucking lost him. You don't deserve him. His mind tortured him, and perhaps that was what he deserved. But like the coward he was, he ran. He tried to escape.

And so, Jeongguk went to the gym.

It wasn't that hard to get in. He had keys since he was the captain. People weren't there to question him either. It was late, and he could be alone. He was alone.

Time blurred, meaningless, while Jeongguk stood in the dark gym, the only light being the moon as it spilled in from the windows high up on the walls. It was cold, the frost numbing his skin, and for fleeting moments it numbed his emotions but barely.

The only thing that came to mind that could help was volleyball.

He stood by the service line, a cart of volleyballs by his side and one in between his palms. He stared down at it, spinning it once then twice, thumb running over the ivory leather.

Volleyball was always there for him. It was there when he needed an escape, a new friend because every kid at the elementary school would bully him for his teeth and his awkward, large nose and his soft doe eyes meant for the faces more feminine.

It was there when his sister got injured and all he needed was company when she disappeared for a while, too lost in her mind to play with him. So upset she couldn't look him in the eye.

It was there for when his mother and father were fighting more often and saw less of each other than usual. It was there when he was frustrated his dad walked out on them, frustrated when he thought his parents gave up, and all he wanted to do was hit his emotions out.

The game was more than just a sport to him.

Volleyball was his safety net, something he could rely on when breathing was so fucking difficult, or when existing was unbearable. It was his longest friend, his first love, something he could never lose, and the only thing he thought that he needed.

Or well, that was what he thought. He thought there was no more room left in him to love. His family and volleyball were the only things he imagined he could possibly be capable of loving.

But when he got the privilege of getting to know Kim Taehyung, it was then did he realize he was wrong.

So fucking wrong because the way he felt for him wasn't enough to confine to a four-letter word, to one universal definition because Taehyung rewrote the meaning of it over and over again, transcending universes and galaxies with every second he had the chance to experience him.

Call him too young, or too naive, or a stupid teen, but this was one of the few things he was sure about.

He, Jeon Jeongguk, was so irrevocably in love with Kim Taehyung.

And that— that scared the fuck out of him because it was supposed to be just volleyball. Only volleyball. Only his family. There was no room for anyone else until Kim fucking Taehyung touched him without even using his hands and made himself a room in his heart.

Now, that room was vacant.

There was no more Taehyung, and maybe that was why he decided to choose volleyball over him. It would never leave him no matter what he did. It always stayed by his side.

Yet, he wondered if Taehyung would have done the same. Would have loved him so much more than the definition of love provided. If he chose Taehyung, maybe he would stay.

But now he wouldn't know. He couldn't know.

All he had left was volleyball, and fuck him for being selfish, but it wasn't it enough anymore. Why was it not enough when he was content with volleyball for all this time?

Why was he so fucking empty?

Why, of all times, was volleyball failing to comfort him?

Jeongguk blinked back tears, struggling to breathe as he served the ball over the net, hitting the ball harder with every serve. He slammed it across, body trembling and palm vividly red, numb like the rest of him.

The balls bounced to the ground once it breezed by the net, the sound hollow like his chest. It wasn't enough. The pain wasn't subsiding like usual with every hit, every smack of the ball across the net. It wasn't going away— why wasn't it leaving?

Instead, it was getting worse.

Frustration painted his every action as the void inside of him grew. His form was growing sloppy, fatigue tugged at his joints, at his knees with every jump. His breath was ragged, ruined, and his head was dizzy and light.

"Fuck!" He cried out in desperation, slamming the ball across the net, hoping this time he would be satisified. He wasn't. He was still empty.

Jeongguk stopped jump serving for his legs trembled below him, instead standing there, tossing it up and hitting it over and over until his elbows began to throb and his hand was tingling. He gritted his teeth together, struggling to breathe.

Why wasn't he feeling better? Why wasn't hitting the ball helping? Why was he still fucking hurting? Why, why, why?

"Jeongguk!" Somebody called his name, but the words were muffled by the rush of his blood pumping against his skull and his uneven breaths.

He grabbed another ball, holding it out and tossing it and slamming it across. Jeongguk cried out another flurry of swears, hands shaking as he reached for another ball.

"Jeongguk, fuck, stop that," He couldn't see who it was in the darkness, for their face was blurry and the faster his breathing quickened, his head was like static.

He held the ball up, ready to send it across despite the tremor that wrecked through his entire body. He ignored the sting in his legs, his lowerback, and the building of fatigue in his upperbody and arms. Fuck, the pain, it wasn't going away— it devoured him.

And maybe he deserved that, but at the same time, he felt betrayed.

Hurt that volleyball, the only constant in his entire life, wasn't saving him this time around.

What else was going to leave him? What else was he going to fuck up?

"You're bleeding, jesus christ," He blinked again, seeing it was Jae. Another blink. Still Jae. Almost mechanically he reached for the ball, but the older grabbed his wrist.

"What the fuck's gotten into you, huh?" Jae asked, and there, in his eyes, was worry. Jeongguk couldn't speak, his throat being too tight to get a proper word out. He blinked once more.

"Your fingers are bleeding. Your palm— fuck, you are a fucking idiot," Jae mumbled, ripping the ball from his hands and throwing it aside. He stepped closer, taking his numbed hand and inspecting it.

"Why are you here?" He managed to croak out, barely wincing when Jae ran his fingers over his finger, which seemed to be now damp with his own red blood.

"Yugyeom and San went to your dorm and nobody was there. Not even him, so of course I offered to find you," Jae said, delicately holding Jeongguk's hand in his, making sure not to touch the sore bone.

"Did something happen?" He asked. Jeongguk exhaled, or at least, attempted to. All that came out was a sniffle. "You can tell me, Jeon."

"Was it Taehyung?" Jeongguk closed his eyes, begging himself not to cry even though his entire body burned and tears dug into his eyes like thorns.

"Whatever it was," Jae continued, "You need to not hurt yourself. This isn't healthy, wearing yourself out. If you don't wanna talk, okay. We can get out of here and just take a walk and breathe."

"Breathe, okay? Just, please, focus on that first."

The younger nodded stiffly, brows drawing together as he tried to focus on calming himself down. He felt Jae's hand rub up and down his shoulder, mumbling things he couldn't pick up over the incessant throb of heartbeat. He swallowed thickly, sucking in a shaky breath.

"Good," Jae said, patting his side, staring at him with concern, "you'll be okay, Jeongguk. It'll be okay."

But it was then, did he finally break.

The first sob was silent, washing over him once, and the wave only consumed for a second before he resurfaced.

But it was the second one, the one that constricted his chest, made his throat close, and eyes sting, felt like a wave of acid suddenly being thrown on him, burning every inch of his body.

It wrecked through his throat, that sob, and the tears flowed out uncontrollably. He crumbled apart, the imaginary acid wearing him down, burning through the bone, and the pain was intensified, still ever so consuming.

"Fuck," Jae whispered softly, placing his hands on his shoulders, holding him. "Jeongguk," he repeated his name, but both knew it was a filler for the words neither of them had.

"I lost him," Jeongguk managed out, forcing the vowels past his tongue. "I hurt him."

"We had sex," He continued, and now it was as if the dam to his words seemed to have broken apart. "We should have talked but we fucked. We fucked and then he said we were hurting one another, and it was so fucking true, and I-I hugged him to get him to stay longer but he l-left."

"I lost him," He repeated, voice hollowed out. Defeated. "I fucking lost him."

Jae squeezed his shoulder, gaze softening, "You don't know that for sure." Jeongguk scoffed, the sound more like a choke as he scraped at the tears still falling freely from his eyes.

"I know I lost him. We fought. I was so angry and so was he, and we said shit," He spat, "We hurt each other more. I hurt him more. I told him lies, Jae. I told him he was ugly, when he—,"

He half expected for Jae to be judging him, to leave his side as well, but the older merely listened. He didn't budge. Jeongguk inhaled again, desperate to get some control— after all, Jeons didn't cry.

"He's so fucking breathtaking. He's more than beautiful. He's gorgeous. He's everything to me, and I told him he meant nothing," Jeongguk's voice cracked.

"I called him worthless when he's worth everything. Every fucking second. Every fucking compliment, He cried out. "I lost him for good."

"No, you didn't. You don't know that, and we will get this sorted out alright?" Jae said, squeezing his shoulders again, shaking him a little to make him meet his gaze.

"We will sort this out. You two will be okay."

"You say that so easily," Jeongguk whispered, "but you weren't there. Y-you didn't see how bad we are f-for each other."

"That's a fucking lie Jeongguk," Jae shook his head. "You two are meant for another."

"No we aren't," Jeongguk sobbed, face contorting with pain as the truth finally slipped through his lips.

"We were better off as friends."

"Is that what you think?" Jae asked, oddly calm and collected, a contrast to the mess Jeongguk was. The younger nodded dumbly before shrugging and shaking his head and sobbing all over again.

"I-I don't know," He murmured, "I don't know what I think. I j-just want him, Jae. I w-want him, but I-I lost him. I fucking lost him."

"It was all my fault. I-I couldn't love him like he wanted me to. L-Like I wanted to," Jeongguk cried.

"I love him, and I fucking lost him."

Jae didn't say anything more, instead wrapped his arms around him and hugged him to make up for an answer he didn't have.

He let him lean his forehead on his shoulder to cry it all out, let each sob leave him wrung dry and broken and ultimately alone.

He should have tried harder.

♡♡♡

"So it came to this," Jimin rubbed Taehyung's back as the two of them sat on his couch, the two of them sitting by side while Taehyung stared at the wall in front of them.

At least he wasn't crying anymore, but he couldn't ignore the void in his chest, devouring him from the inside out and leaving him hollow. His eyes were still swollen from sobbing into Jimin's shoulder for the last few hours. His throat was a bit raw.

With all honesty, he didn't know how he should be feeling. All those nasty words, insults, and attempts to pry deeper and rip at barely healed wounds should have offended him more, hurt him more.

But it didn't. He wasn't pissed off but frustrated. So damn frustrated that this even happened.

They were doing so good at the start. Hell, they told one another they were going to make it work, and for some time they did. They were happy and falling in love and caught up in one another— it felt right.

Jeongguk felt right.

And then they fell apart over something insignificant but at the same time, controlled every aspect of their future together. They were supposed to have a future together, but even that didn't sound right as he said it.

Jeongguk's future was volleyball— both of them knew it. It was this unspoken truth that hung above their heads, and neither one wanted to be the person who dropped the blade and ruin what they had.

Perhaps that was their mistake.

Thinking about a future together when maybe being apart was the right answer all along.

Taehyung was afraid that once Jeongguk opened his mouth, rejection would come out all over again, and maybe that was why he didn't listen. It was a stupid fear, rejection, and maybe he shouldn't have let that consume him.

Because he realized Jeongguk always loved him a little too late now that his head was cleared.

Deep down, he knew words weren't enough to describe how much they loved one another. He knew it only took one look. One simple look that said all the things words couldn't.

And he overlooked it.

He let insecurities eat him up to the bone, tearing him apart, and left him questioning parts of their relationship that already had an answer. He was stupid.

Terribly stupid and chose to ignore it when they should have acknowledged everything. Talked about everything. Listened to everything. But now, that was chance to savage things were gone.

He should have tried harder.

"What are you going to do now?" Jimin asked, voice softened to a whisper. "Are you gonna talk to him?"

"I don't know," Taehyung said the truth. "I don't know if we can go back to one another."

"You can't give up, Tae," The blonde raised an eyebrow at him. Taehyung shook his head.

"I never said I was giving up," He whispered quietly, running his fingers over his knee, tracing around the cap. "I-I just don't think it'll be the same."

"'Course it won't. You can fix things," Jimin tried to stay positive, which was odd coming from him, but the younger appreciated it anyways.

"I don't know. He called me ugly and worthless. I told him he didn't give a shit about his mom," He let out a bitter laugh, feeling the older's hand on his back freeze.

"He trusted me with her, and I crossed the line."

"You did, but so did he. He shouldn't have called you those things," Jimin replied, "no matter how mad you two were, both of you did cross the line."

"Then I don't think we can go back," Taehyung whispered, voice slightly cracking around the edges. "Maybe we shouldn't be together."

"You're thinking about breaking up?" Jimin asked.

"I don't know," He said, teeth clamping down on his lip, chewing at the skin. "I don't want to." But we need to.

"Well then explain to me why," The blonde said, pulling his hand away from him and settling it on his own lap. "Tell me, and I'll tell you my unbiased opinion. You don't wanna do something you regret, alright?"

"I know," He knew what he meant, really. When you break up, all the ties are severed unless you take the time to reattach all the links you had to one another. Break-ups are painful— Taehyung had heard the horror stories.

"It's permanent, and going back last minute only does more damage. It's either you break up if you believe it's needed, or you hold on to each other and work it out," Jimin shrugged.

"But of course, cut them off when it's toxic." At that, the younger flinched. Jimin swallowed, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's true," Taehyung said, hating the wave of fatigue that washed over him all of a sudden. Though it made sense as he glanced at the clock. It was already three in the morning.

"Yeah," Jimin nodded, carding his fingers through his hair. "Y'know, before Namjoon became a shitty guy, he was wise. He used to be the one who gave us all advice before high school."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow at the older, not quite expecting that from how nasty Kim Namjoon was. Sure, he was all dimpled-smiles and smooth words, but he wasn't a saint.

"Yeah, before drinking and partying and sex, Joon used to be nice," Something like pain hinted behind the older's words, or perhaps it was nostalgia, but neither of them mentioned it.

"He told me that in relationships, people should be sharing equal energy. The goal is to make each other shine brighter. You shouldn't be putting so much energy into them that you burn out and they shine brighter, but at the same time, you shouldn't put so little energy so that you shine more than them."

"It's a balance," Jimin whispered, threading his own pudgy fingers together over his lap. "Namjoon said this to Yoongi before his break up with Hoseok."

"I remember that," Taehyung hummed. "Didn't they mutually drift apart?" He couldn't possibly imagine drifting away from Jeongguk, but it had already happened before he could even blink.

"Well it was part of the reason. Yoongi ended it after Namjoon told him this," The older said.

"I think for them, neither one was putting any effort so the light just burned out on its own."

"Is that what's happening to Jeongguk and me?" He asked, voice slightly wavering as he stared down at his lap, teeth digging harder into his lip.

"Is it, Tae?" Jimin asked. The younger said nothing.

"M'not good at relationships," The older proceeded, managing a laugh from Taehyung, though for him it was merely a reaction, a sound he didn't mean.

"But I do think you need to talk to him," Jimin said, pattimg his shoulder once more. "Maybe breaking up is the answer. Maybe fixing things is. All I know is that losing him isn't. It's not worth it."

"We can always forgive, no matter how impossible it seems."

"You're right," Taehyung murmured, tilting his gaze up to meet the older's. "And you said you suck at people skills." He added, the edge of his lip tugging upward ever so briefly.

"I do," Jimin said, "but I observe. I like it better that way. Less messier."

"What happened to you over break?" He found himself asking before he could hold back, and he honestly half-expected Jimin to kick him out by the way his expression contorts, unreadable.

"I'm sorry—," Jimin raised his hand, his gaze gentle.

"My mom died over summer," He explained, words small yet at the same time strong, pained. "I was a mess. She was my sense of direction and the person who told me if I was stepping out of line."

"I'm sorry," Taehyung repeated again. He meant it. Jimin merely smiled, fleeting.

"I lost her. She died in a car accident. I was lost for a while. I lost my friends, I lost Jeongguk, and I lost her. My dad wasn't pretty nice. He's a rich bastard," Jimin chuckled lowly, the sound void of humor.

"But after Jeongguk and I fought, and he told me he liked you and we ended our friendship, I left. I went to visit my mom's grave in Busan," Jimin said, leaning back into the couch.

"I spoke to her grave every day of winter break, and I guess I found my sense of direction again. While loving Jeongguk might have been the reason why I continued living back then, I realized I couldn't hold onto that," Jimin whispered.

"I realized I needed to find myself my own reason to exist. One that wasn't a person because I needed to work on finding my own path."

Jimin was right.

All this time, Taehyung was lost, and Jeongguk was there to make sense out of the confusion he found himself so deep in. For a while, maybe Jeongguk was the answer, but he knew it couldn't be permanent.

He didn't have any passions. He studied hard, worked hard, filled all his time with things to put on his college resumee. All he dreamed for was to get out of the farm and live some meaningful life and do something great.

After all, he was a teenager. His life was just starting, and that meaning, he hadn't found just yet, so of course, it was natural to be confused. To not know who he was just yet.

And that was okay. Jimin was telling him that it was okay to not who you were, and to not have a sense of direction. They were young and dumb and life was waiting to provide them an experience where they could learn who they are.

One day he would find himself, find his passion, and discover the meaning he wanted to live his life with. For now, he didn't know, but maybe it was good to not know just yet.

He had all the time to figure out who he was. To love himself properly and accept himself.

Jeongguk wasn't going to give him that answer. He already figured out his future, his career path, and maybe the younger was like him— still trying to figure himself out. But he knew they couldn't figure eachother out for one another.

Taehyung had no right to hold him back from discovering himself. It was the same way Jeongguk didn't either. While they thought being together was the answer to their confusion, perhaps they were wrong.

Perphas being apart might be the answer all a long.

"I think, even if you found the love of your life," Jimin whispered, now sitting up and facing the younger. "It could wait. Finding yourself can't. I think you need to love yourself before loving another person."

"Do you love yourself?" Taehyung asked, swallowing.

"I'm working on it," Jimin's lips broke out into a smile, one that made Taehyung's heavy heart spur to life. "Do you?"

"I'm far from it," He laughed, effortlessly this time, and it didn't suffocate him— the sound. Instead, it flowed past his lips, the feeling good, euphoric.

It was a whole rush of emotions, and maybe it was the overwhelming sensation of frustration working with the pain, the anger, the happiness, and the meaningful words the older said that possesed Taehyung to kiss Park Jimin.

It was a mistake the second Taehyung placed his lips over his. Neither of them moved, frozen, the laughter cut short, and their hearts frozen in place. Their lips were stoic on one another's— this wasn't right.

It took a moment, to register what was going on, but the person to break the silence wasn't one of them.

"I did not expect this," Both of them jumped apart, guilt rushing through Jimin and Taehyung's faces as they saw a boy standing at the doorway.

"Aren't you Park Jimin?" The person said, voice thickly accented. Taehyung blinked, adjusting his glasses to get a better look of who it is— he sounded familiar.

"Yeah, and you?" Jimin cleared his throat, sitting far away from Taehyung.

"Nakamoto Yuta," The stranger said, crossing his arms. "And who must this be? His roommate?"

"No," Taehyung forced out, voice suddenly dry. "My name's Taehyung." Something sinister flashed in Yuta's eyes.

"Taehyung? Huh, I heard about you," Yuta chuckled, smirking. "Well, I was here to find a temporary dorm. I spoke to the rooming service, and they told me I was staying with the volleyball team's setter. How funny is that? Cuz I'm a setter too!"

"A setter from where?" Jimin's voice was nearly muted by the pounding of Taehyung's own blood in his ears. Fuck, he felt dizzy, the guilt of being caught for a simple mistake making him nauseous.

"I'm from Team Japan."

Taehyung swore the wind was knocked out of his chest. Now he knew who he was. And Jimin seemed to know too.

"Well, goodnight. I suppose I'll return to my hotel room and leave you both to that," Yuta waved, other hand lingering on the door knob. "It was great to meet you, Jimin. Taehyung."

And with that, he left, leaving Jimin and Taehyung alone in the dark of his dorm, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. They were screwed, they knew that. Guilty, as well. It was a mistake, but it wasn't a small one.

And both of them knew very well that no sorry they could say would make Jeon Jeongguk ever forgive them if he were to find out.

♡♡♡

this was shorter than usual
but i think i should warn you
to be prepared~

lmao haha when i said 'found'
now you know what it meant (;