Taehyung and Namjoon were in love. Everyone knew it.

All of their friends, all of their classmates, all of their teachers. Anyone who spent two minutes in the same room as the two of them knew it. How could you miss something so obvious?

You could see it in the lingering gazes, the soft, lovelorn smiles, how their hands naturally found the other as if their presence alone was a security blanket. You could feel it in the way Namjoon's shoulders seemed to relax whenever Taehyung was around. You could hear it in the way Taehyung's laugh was that much louder when Namjoon was the one evoking it.

They were friends, best friends, since kindergarten. Since Namjoon tripped on the playground and Taehyung came to his rescue. Kissed the bruise on his knee, because "that's what eomma does!" and then promptly ran in the other direction, because "look, Joonie, there's a butterfly!" And Namjoon had stood there for a second, wondering what had just happened, but the time he used to ponder was cut short by Taehyung grabbing his hand and leading him to the butterfly he found.

Taehyung was taller than him then, more talkative and much more touchy. Namjoon's quieter responses never discouraged him, though. Because after a little while of sitting next to the older boy, listening to his murmured responses, Taehyung knew Namjoon thought more than it seemed, that his voice was more internalized.

Much later, Taehyung realized this was because no one takes kids seriously anyways, despite him thinking whatever Namjoon said was the most interesting thing he'd heard all day.

The two of them were inseparable. Namjoon and Taehyung. (They'd spent a whole two hours sitting on the grass after school debating whose name should come first, but eventually Namjoon won with his argument that a) "I'm your hyung, TaeTae" and b) 'N' came before 'T' in the alphabet, and Taehyung was forced to give in. And he didn't really mind, because Namjoon smiled when he got to be first, and Taehyung liked his smile. So that was that.)

Taehyung held wonder in his eyes.

The first time Namjoon truly saw this was when they sat outside on the grass doing nothing. Evening had fallen, and the crickets were singing, and a firefly flew over and landed on Tae's hand. Ever since the beginning of that summer, Taehyung hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of the glowing bugs that came out at night.

"Look! Look, Namjoon-hyung! On my hand, here, look, look!" Tae shouted, the volume making Namjoon, sitting less than a foot away, wince. Subtlety had never been Taehyung's strong suit.

But he swore then that the boy's smile could have lit up the whole city.

Namjoon found himself wanting to be the cause of that smile, wanting to make sure it never went away. He made a pact with himself that night. To try his hardest to never make Taehyung less than happy.

Namjoon held wonder in his head.

The first time Taehyung truly knew this was one night when Namjoon was sleeping over. Tae's nightlight had broken (apparently someone had tripped over it, or something), and he couldn't sleep.

"Joonie?" It came out whispered, in case he was asleep already.

"Yeah?"

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

"I was," Namjoon admitted. "But I'm not anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because," he said, shifting his blankets to sit up and look at Taehyung. "There's no need. The dark just missed you. It's trying to give you a hug, because you always sleep through it. It only wants your company, TaeTae."

"Who said anything about me, hyung?" he scoffed. "I'm not scared of anything. I'm brave."

Namjoon chuckled softly. "I know, Taehyung. You're very brave. But that doesn't mean you have to be invincible."

Taehyung couldn't find a response to that, other than, "'Night, Namjoon."

"Good night, Tae."

And much later, a muffled "Thank you," came from under Taehyung's covers as the dark hugged him to sleep. Namjoon smiled into the nearly-black room.

Namjoon started a growth spurt during eighth grade, finally overtaking Taehyung the summer before sophomore year of high school. Taehyung never heard the end of it. ("Come on, Joonie! It's not that big a deal!", even though it was a big deal to Taehyung because all of a sudden when they hug he's the one being protected and Namjoon's chin is resting on his hair and when did this happen?)

Taehyung sighed, and planted his face down onto the table. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin hadn't arrived yet, which meant it was him and his trigonometric sorrows all alone to die.

If Namjoon were here, he'd say to stop being so dramatic, Tae, that trigonometry is just another step for us meaningless specks of dust to try and grasp an understanding of our vast universe or something and expect it to be a) understood and b) as good as a tutoring session.

And then Taehyung would roll his eyes, slump onto Namjoon's shoulder, and eat some of whatever food his best friend had, successfully ignoring his responsibilities.

But Namjoon isn't here, Taehyung thought, because he's gone and left me for dead.

He let out another long-suffering sigh, this time sliding off the table horizontally until he's lying on his back on the bench, one hand settled on his stomach and the other hanging down a centimeter away from the dirty cafeteria tiles.

"Taehyung-ah?" came Hoseok's amused voice from the other side of the table. "Are you okay?"

"No," Taehyung spouted dramatically.

He could almost hear Hoseok rolling his eyes.

About to retaliate with something decidedly witty, Taehyung was cut off by a "Tae?"

He tilted his chin up to see the God of Destruction (a nickname achieved with a lot of hard work) himself looking down at him. "Hi."

Namjoon quirked an eyebrow, but ultimately ruled that so many years of friendship with Taehyung led to ignoring theatrics and lifted Taehyung's head up so he could sit down. Taehyung flopped his head right back down onto his lap, and sighed a third time. Namjoon's fingers made their way into his hair, brushing it back off his forehead.

"Your hair's getting too long."

"I don't feel like cutting it."

Namjoon reached into his bag and brought out a headband, dropping it on Taehyung's face, earning a splutter and a question.

"Joon," Seokjin's voice came from beside Hoseok, half-laughing. "What don't you have in your bag?"

Taehyung decided to sit up at that, opting to just lean against Namjoon because having an emotional breakdown over math was tiring, okay? and also because none of them actually knew the limit to what was in Namjoon's Bag of Infinity, as it was informally named by literally everyone, and this was sure to be interesting.

After tying on the headband, he started to eat Namjoon's lunch, not feeling like getting out his own. The boy just cast him an exasperated glance and brought his backpack onto the table.

"Band-Aids?"

He pulled out a small box of them.

"Star Wars, Joon, really?"

"They're cool, Tae, shut up," the boy in question responded fondly.

"Water bottle?"

"Mmhmm."

"Nail polish?"

"Yep."

"Ooh, what colors?"

"Pink, clear, and ... bright orange."

"Do you have my sheet music? 'Cause I have sax practice after my lecture, and I kinda... don't know where it is?"

Namjoon sighed, and pulled out an orange folder, only slightly more dull than the nail polish and covered in cat stickers, and handed it to Taehyung.

"Oh my God! I didn't expect for you to actually have it!" he said delightedly, beaming at Namjoon. The others felt the sudden urge to look away in fear of being blinded. (An occupational hazard of being friends with Taehyung, they supposed, but Namjoon had never once turned away.)

Seokjin and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance.

Actually, the whole of the cafeteria exchanged knowing glances, but the two didn't notice anything that wasn't the other.

See? Taehyung and Namjoon were in love.

Everyone knew it. Except for them.