Lovers in Tokyo | taegi

1

1. BLUE DELUGE

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Up close, Yoongi has almost forgotten how much he had loved Taehyung's eyelashes.

They're black and lushful, so much like the thrum of butterfly's wing beats in sleep, so reminiscent of dainty soft petals that rests on his cheekbones, sort of slants into shadows under his closed eyelids.

Yoongi quietly stares at them a bit longer, stares at Taehyung curled up against his arm like a warm presence. There's a quiet, odd lull of something spreading in his chest, deep and slow, something like resonance and yearning through the years. He doesn't fight it, lets it settle and sink into his bones, and still Yoongi's eyes are tracing Taehyung's sleep-laced features the way his lips once did; a trail starting from the little furrow between his eyebrows and to the bridge of his delicate nose and to the Cupid's bow that crests atop his soft lips, familiar like a long-forgotten map of faded memories.

The feeling in his chest shifts ground, now heavier with ache, and all of a sudden it's a bit hard to breathe.

Outside, the day is dwindling down fast, the once too-bright turquoise sky now darkening into shades of deep, dark blue and endless velvets. The city bustles, paces with a renewed energy of tired people making their way home, flooding the streets and intersections in a steady blur of activity.

Yoongi and Taehyung are high above them, wrapped around each other like ribbons in a hotel room somewhere in the west side of the city, wrapped around each other in a single bed that's much too small for two bodies but somehow they make do. Arms and legs curled around the other like only souls who know each other could; lips that were hot against the other's skin like burning whiskey now speaking in soft, muted breaths shaped into words.

They're far away from Seoul, far away from the place where they first met, in a city that's both harsh glaring lights and soft mellow skies, loud speckled conversations and quiet hidden smiles.

It's quiet, and they haven't spoken much since entering the room, save for sounds that would make angels blush crimson.

For a while Yoongi stays unmoving, not wanting to disturb the gentle hush of silence, and his eyes continue to drink in every inch of Taehyung that he can. He rests his head back against the pillows, his hand that isn't supporting Taehyung resting on the younger's chest instead.

Through his splayed fingertips, Yoongi can feel the steady rhythm of rise and fall, rise and fall of Taehyung's breathing, and he feels impossibly content, like this, just the way he is now - his body sinking into the mattress, his mind idly counting the seconds between each inhale and exhale.

One, two, three. Taehyung shifts a little, restless energy even in his drowsy state. One, two, three, four. Yoongi cannot stop staring. Three, four; one two three. He's a bit scared of looking away, as if Taehyung will blink out of existence if he does so, and it's stupid, he knows.

So he drifts his gaze over once again to their window, lazily stares at the sprawling landscape.

The curtains in the room are carded to the side, and Yoongi can see the sharp skyline dotted with phantom lights, intimidating tall buildings, and a vast horizon of the five p.m faded sky. He feels safe, strangely.

As if the entirety of this city is a well-kept secret like the two, a small alcove hideaway with hushed undertones of lovers' lust and livewire tension; an overturned bowl of a bruising sky where, amidst the raindrops, Taehyung and Yoongi can wrap around each other and hide, can breathe in the downpour, can do so without the inhibition that Seoul seems to press against their lungs.

It's funny, how sometimes cities can seem like beings, at times a haven and others a concrete cage.

(Here, far away from Seoul's iron-fist confines, Yoongi feels a bit free. Feels like he's shed the part of him that thinks others' eyes are on him, that one day expectations will tip over the weight of his passions and replaces it with mediocrity instead.

Feels like he can be just as he is, skin and bones and beating thrashing thrumming heart, and all.)

The entire city's submerged in a blue deluge, endless winter rain pouring down in thundering needles, coming down in thick sheets that sink into the pavements below. Cold condensation frosts against the panes of their windows, and the room is stinging and chilly, but it's warm under the sheets, their bodies leaving no gap in between the rumpled sheets that neither of them feels the bite. It turns them both drowsy, the cool air against exposed skin, and the aftermath of passion starts to sink in, playing a part in the unwinding of their tired bones.

Yoongi feels cocooned in the bed, Taehyung occupying the usually empty side, his soft hair nearly tickling Yoongi's right jaw as they lie side by side. They are bathed in blue hues, surrounded by falling rain, bodies pressed so close Yoongi can't even begin to trace where his ends and Taehyung's begins.

The lovers are in Tokyo, and it's raining.

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thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me that you took the time to! i'm so excited to be able to share this story, and while nothing much happens here, consider it a prologue for the rest of the story, which i will publish weekly every saturday night!

i wrote this as a one-shot meant to flow all at once but i can't put in 25k worth of words in a chapter, so i'm sorry if some parts seem a bit off or the ending a bit too abrupt. i hope you'll like it nonetheless, taegi is such an underrated ship and i love my daegu babies so much!

please do leave a little vote and tell me what you think so far! have a lovely day, cuties :")