The night before the trip

Taehyung was sprawled across his bedroom floor, surrounded by chaos, it was also a good thing that his dad wasn't around. So he could have all this space for himself.

Clothes were flung over his bedpost like modern art. Socks , none of them matching, peeked out of an overstuffed duffel bag. A travel-sized sunscreen had exploded inside a toiletry pouch, and for some reason, there was a rubber duck wearing sunglasses next to his bucket hat.

He sat cross-legged in the middle of it all, dramatically holding up a denim jumpsuit like it was a sacred relic. "You," he said to it, "are the only thing holding me together right now."

His phone buzzed.

Seokjin 💫 calling.

Taehyung immediately flopped onto his stomach and picked up without saying hello.

"You've ruined me," he announced.

There was a small pause. Then Seokjin's amused voice came through the line. "Hello to you too, Taehyung."

"I have nothing to wear."

"Pick the ones that don't make you look like a zombie."

"It's not enough," Taehyung muttered, burying his face into a scarf. "I need options. What if the weather changes its mind? What if the sun judges my fit?"

Seokjin laughed quietly. "You could wear a trash bag and the sun would applaud."

Taehyung peeked up. "So you admit I'm radiant?"

"I'm admitting you have main character syndrome. And tomorrow's your solo arc."

That made Taehyung sit up straighter. "Because I aced the exam."

"Exactly," Seokjin said, softer now. "You worked hard. You earned this break."

Taehyung's ears turned a little pink. "...Thanks to your terrifying quizzes and color-coded flashcards."

"I warned you."

"I wasn't entirely warned"

"You're welcome."

Taehyung grinned.

He rolled onto his back, legs kicking in the air, the phone pressed to his ear. "So. What time are we leaving again?"

"I'll pick you up at five."

"In the morning?" he croaked.

"Yes."

"Is this punishment disguised as a reward?"

"No," Seokjin said coolly. "This is a reward that comes with a driver, my dad's car, and a stocked snack bar."

Taehyung gasped. "You mean we're leaving in the Kim Seokjin-level car?"

"Mhm."

"Do I have to wear a suit to match the luxury?"

"You can wear your denim jumpsuit. And the bucket hat. I know you're planning to and if you're asking how I guessed what you're going to wear tomorrow because you look like the type to wear one."

"...Dude, that literally sums up my fashion statement."

Seokjin giggled on the other side of the phone.

Taehyung blinked at the ceiling, then smiled so widely he had to cover his face with one hand. He could feel it, the difference in Seokjin's voice lately. How it lingered, how it warmed him. Not just teasing anymore. Not just classmates.

Something softer. Still unspoken.

"I'll be ready," Taehyung promised.

"You better be. I'm sending the driver in if you make me wait."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I've dared worse," Seokjin said. "Now go to sleep. I want you looking camera-ready for Jeju."

"I was born camera-ready."

"I know," Seokjin said and Taehyung could hear the smile in his voice. "Goodnight, Taehyung."

"Night, Seokjin"

Click.

Taehyung exhaled and stared at his ceiling with a dumb smile.

Then he dove back into his packing tornado, whispering, "Kim Seokjin said I can wear the jumpsuit. YES!"

Next Morning. 4:49 AM

At exactly 4:59 AM, a matte black Genesis GV80 parked to a stop outside Taehyung's small cozy home. It was so quiet, so absurdly smooth, that the neighborhood birds hadn't even noticed it yet. The sky was still the deep blue of sleep, and the only thing louder than the chirping silence was the ding! of Taehyung's phone.

Seokjin: I'm outside.
Don't forget your toothbrush.
And your sunscreen.
And your sanity.

Taehyung, already halfway down the stairs, replied with a sleepy selfie, his bucket hat tilted sideways, oversized jumper barely hanging off one shoulder, eyes half-lidded like a grumpy cat. Taehyung replied back.

Taehyung: take me as i am.

And Seokjin, who was sitting in the backseat with a croissant in one hand and a travel pillow in the other, smiled.

The front door swung open dramatically two minutes later, and Taehyung emerged like a boyband member doing a casual airport fashion segment.

Denim jumpsuit: on.
Plain white long-sleeved shirt: tucked and slightly wrinkled.
Bucket hat: triumphant.
Expression: 30% dead, 70% excited.

He skipped down the steps with his duffel bag dragging behind him like a child refusing to let go of their stuffed animal.

"Good morning!" he chirped, flinging the door open and collapsing into the seat beside Seokjin.

"You look like an indie film, who also plays Stardew valley."

"I am an indie film," Taehyung mumbled, stretching his limbs dramatically. "Shot entirely in grainy slow motion. Directed by chaos. Rated PG because I'm soft."

Seokjin didn't even blink. He handed Taehyung a bottle of banana milk.

Taehyung blinked down at it. "You brought me breakfast?"

"You're easier to manage when you're fed," Seokjin deadpanned, eyes already back on his phone. "Also, I like seeing you happy."

Taehyung turned to look at him, and a faint, tinted blush dusted his cheeks like the first light of dawn. His eyes softened, lingering on Seokjin's calm, unbothered expression—the kind of look that said, I've got you, even when everything else felt a little messy.

"Stop," Taehyung said, half-smiling, voice low. "You're going to make me melt before we even get to the airport."

Seokjin raised an eyebrow but didn't deny it. Instead, he nudged the banana milk toward him. "Drink up. You'll need your energy. Big day ahead."

Taehyung took the bottle, fingers brushing Seokjin's briefly. A spark, small but undeniable flickered between them.

"Okay, Mr. Tutor," Taehyung teased, "what's the plan today? Apart from showing off your fancy car and making me look like a fashion disaster?"

Seokjin chuckled, the sound warm and steady. "First, you pretend you don't know me when we get to the airport. Then, you try not to completely lose it when you see the jet."

Taehyung's eyes went wide. "Jet? Wait, what kind of jet?"

Seokjin smirked. "The kind only a family like mine owns. You're welcome."

Taehyung shook his head, laughter bubbling up despite the early hour. "You're ridiculous."

"But you love it," Seokjin said softly, eyes meeting his again.

Taehyung nodded, the blush deepening. "Maybe I do."

At the Airport

As they stepped out of the car at the airport, Taehyung looked around, confused. "Uh... Jin, I think your driver missed the entrance. The check-in counter is that way."

Seokjin didn't answer. He just adjusted his sunglasses like a chaebol in a drama and kept walking toward a separate gate, quiet, sleek, and very much not where the regular people went.

Taehyung blinked, then jogged after him. "Wait, hold on. This doesn't look like budget airline energy. Where are the people? Where's the chaos? Where's the guy yelling 'FINAL CALL' like he's announcing a boxing match?"

Seokjin waved a hand. "We're not going there."

"We're not?, what? Are we getting smuggled to Jeju?! Is this a secret mission?" Taehyung began to panic and hold onto Seokjin as if his life depended on him.

Just then, a sharply dressed staff member greeted Seokjin with a bow. "Mr. Kim, we're ready for takeoff. Please follow me."

Taehyung froze. "Mr. Kim?! Why did they say that like you're Batman?"

Seokjin gave him a sideways glance. "Because I am. But richer."

As they turned the corner and stepped onto the tarmac, Taehyung saw it. The private jet.

He stopped in his tracks, jaw dropping. "That's... that's not a plane. That's a spaceship with wings. You're telling me we're riding that?"

Seokjin nodded casually. "It's quieter, more efficient. And it has good snacks."

Taehyung stared at him. "Good snacks? Good snacks?! Bro, you're flying me to Jeju on a metal cloud and you're selling it with snacks?!"

Seokjin smirked. "Would you have come if I said I had a mini-fridge stocked with banana milk?"

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. "...You did this on purpose."

"Obviously."

Once inside the jet, Taehyung walked around like a kid in a candy store, he touching everything, everything that was sparling, flopping onto the plush leather seats, gasping at the gold-rimmed tray table.

"I feel like I need a three-piece suit just to sit here," he said, sinking into the seat beside Seokjin.

"You wore overalls and a bucket hat," Seokjin reminded him along with a small laugh, Seokjin sat down and on one of the arm-rest chair and watch Taehyung in adoration.

"Fashion," Taehyung said seriously, crossing one leg over the other. "It's called contrast."

Seokjin looked at him for a bit, then reached into the armrest and pulled out a tiny blanket, tossing it onto Taehyung's lap. "You're going to fall asleep in twenty minutes."

"Not true," Taehyung said proudly. "I'm too excited to sleep. I'm in a jet. I'm living my chaebol romance fantasy. All I need now is a rich guy who falls in love with me."

Seokjin arched a brow. "You're literally in a jet with me."

Taehyung's heart did a flip, and somehow Seokjin's heart did as well.

But he covered it up with a smirk and whispered, "So... what you're saying is, I should've packed a wedding suit."

Seokjin shook his head, laughing under his breath, but his ears were pink, when all of a sudden all he could hear was Taehyung's continuous tapping on the armrest.

Taehyung tapped the seat's armrest like he was trying to wake it up. "I swear, this thing could transform into a bed. Or a spaceship. Or both."

"It's a chair, Taehyung," Seokjin said flatly, not looking up from his phone.

"It's a throne," Taehyung argued, eyes glittering. "And I am Jeju royalty now."

"You're wearing a denim jumpsuit," Seokjin said with a deadpanned expression, but he soon cracked a smile.

Taehyung made a face. "You're jealous."

"Of your questionable fashion choices?"

"Of my vibe." Taehyung leaned in closer with a grin. "You think I'm charming."

"I think you're loud."

Taehyung just laughed and leaned back, eyes drifting toward the cabin windows, where sunlight spilled across the white leather interior. "Still... this is insane. I didn't think I'd be riding in a private jet this week. Or ever."

Seokjin glanced at him. "Well, you did ace your exam."

"Thanks to my tutor," Taehyung replied, nudging him gently with an elbow.

"Obviously." Seokjin didn't even blink. "I'm the best."

Taehyung smiled faintly. "You really are."

There was a short pause. The kind that doesn't feel awkward, just quiet. The engines hummed beneath them, the jet preparing to take off.

"You okay?" Taehyung asked softly.

Seokjin was staring out the window. "Yeah. Just... didn't tell my mom about this trip."

Taehyung blinked. "Wait, what?"

"She'd have said no," Seokjin added casually, like he wasn't dropping a tiny grenade. "Strict schedule. Responsibilities. The usual."

Taehyung tilted his head. "And you didn't care?"

"I cared," Seokjin said, eyes still on the sky. "I just chose not to listen."

Taehyung didn't say anything right away. He was too busy looking at him—at the way Seokjin's jaw was set, calm and sharp at the same time. He looked like someone who had carried the world for a long time and, just for today, set it down.

Taehyung knew better than to press.

"I'm glad you did," he said instead, voice quiet.

Seokjin finally turned to face him. "You better be. I could be getting scolded by noon."

Taehyung grinned. "Wanna switch phones before she calls and yells at you in fancy Korean? I'll answer with my best 'Annyeonghaseyo' and fake tears."

"I'll record it and send it to your professor."

Taehyung gasped. "Come on!"

Seokjin's lips twitched, just a little. "Stop being dramatic and drink your banana milk, idiot."

"Only if you promise to survive this trip without turning into a work robot."

"No promises." Seokjin said while shrugging his shoulder.

Taehyung pouted. "You're lucky I like you."

Seokjin looked at him, mildly amused. "You like banana milk."

"That too."

They exchanged a look, it was brief, charged, and quiet again.

Taehyung glanced away first, fiddling with his seatbelt again. His fingers were fidgety. He could feel the words in his chest—I like you more than you know—but he kept them there, buried beneath all the jokes and banana milk.

And Seokjin, still gazing out at the sky, didn't realize that in choosing this trip, in breaking the rules for once, he was already orbiting something he hadn't dared name yet.

The plane took off.

Neither of them said much for the next few minutes.

But between them, the silence was warm. Almost something like hope.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The jet was dark, only a faint amber glow coming from the ceiling lights. The hum of the engine was soft, almost soothing, like a lullaby for the privileged and tired.

Taehyung was asleep on the armrest next to Seokjin. His face was turned slightly toward the window, lips parted in that same open, dreamy way he always had when sleep took over completely. His hand rested on his stomach, rising and falling with every slow breath. His denim jacket had slipped down one shoulder, revealing the curve of his neck, and Seokjin couldn't look away.

He hadn't meant to stay awake.

But here he was.

Sitting upright. Still. Wide awake.

And watching Taehyung sleep.

God. This was bad.

Not just in the moral sense though yes, maybe staring at someone for fifteen minutes straight qualified as creepy but in the sense that... he didn't know what this feeling was.

It had bloomed quietly, like a weed in the cracks of a concrete wall he'd built years ago. He had spent so long perfecting himself: measured, calculated, untouchable.

And then came Taehyung loud, chaotic, persistent.

Like sunshine through a closed window. Refusing to be ignored.

Seokjin let his eyes soften, scanning every familiar line of Taehyung's face. His lashes, impossibly long. His lips, pink and chapped. His cheeks, flushed from sleep.

So different from the first time they met.

He remembered it clearly.

The library. The sharp sting of irritation when Taehyung and his group wouldn't shut up in the supposedly "silent" section. Seokjin had marched over, notebook in hand, tone clipped.

"choose one, is this a library or a comedy show?"

And instead of apologizing or snapping back, Taehyung had laughed.

Seokjin had rolled his eyes that day. Hard. But he remembered how the corner of his mouth twitched.

He remembered the next day, when Taehyung started popping up around him. Like a dog. Loyal, annoying, impossible to ignore.

Then there was the arcade Taehyung's idea, of course. He said if he could win a plushie, Seokjin would have to forgive him. At the time, Seokjin thought it was the stupidest idea ever.

But that stupid duck still sat on his bed, and the photo from the booth they used that day was still stuck to the corner of his mirror.

Now, staring at him here, asleep, in a private jet that defied their worlds, it didn't feel funny anymore. It felt fragile.

Like something he wanted to protect.

He didn't know when the distance between them had disappeared. But it had.

Now, Taehyung's hand was just inches away.

His breath was warm on Seokjin's wrist.

And Seokjin without thinking, he leaned in.

He didn't plan it. He didn't even allow himself to hesitate long enough to stop.

He just followed the pull.

A quiet gravity between them.

He bent down slowly, heart thudding. He stared at Taehyung's lips for one long second, almost afraid.

Then, with trembling restraint, he pressed the softest kiss to Taehyung's mouth.

Not deep. Not rushed.

Just a moment.

A question in the shape of a kiss.

He pulled away before he could ruin it. Before he could let it mean too much.

Taehyung didn't wake. Just stirred slightly, lips twitching as though he'd dreamt of something warm.

Seokjin sat back in his seat, heart pounding in his chest, face burning.

What had he just done?

He lifted a hand to touch his lips.

For the first time in a very long time, Kim Seokjin calculated, composed, the one who always had the answers didn't know what he was doing.

He just knew he didn't want to stop.