priceless | tk ✓

-: 52 :-

"Taehyung?"

A name he'd said so often in the past month. Complaining, dreading, fearful, crying. Nearly everything on a negative spectrum was hit.

But suddenly, it sounded so hopeful. It felt so good to say his name.

"Jungkook." The soft mumble whispered back, making the photographer's eyes twinkle with small specks of happiness. Taehyung stepped forward, arms reach of him, and Jungkook gazed back longingly.

There was so much he didn't know. There was so much he needed to know.

"Jungkook." Taehyung's voice quivered and despite how much he wanted to simply close the gap and hug the warm body before him, Jungkook knew where they were. A place from where they needed privacy. "You're really here?"

The boy nodded and let out the small laugh, chewing his lip at the delicate situation. "I am. I really am."

"But— Busan— I don't understand—"

God, if only Taehyung knew how much he had missed his voice, missed him.

"Not here. Can we go somewhere?" He was teetering on the edge of pleading. He wasn't letting this chance go just because they were in public eye. He wasn't running away.

"Yeah," the model looked dazed, dreamy almost. Then, he blinked harshly and rattled his head out of empty space, holding out his arm. "Yeah, let's go."

Jungkook stared at the outstretched arm and reached forward hesitantly, like the touch would burn him or snap him out of a hallucination, leaving him alone again.

Instead, his palm met the soft material of Taehyung's shirt, his chest swelling as his fingers curled into the bend of Taehyung's elbow, securely hooked, securely grounding him to reality.

The model was staring breathlessly at the hand around his arm, a smile of disbelief ghosting his beautiful lips.

Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.

It was the only word spinning through the chasm of Jungkook's head, his eyes fixated on Taehyung's profile as he was led out of the canteen, hyungs and water spill forgotten, fears elevated into closure.

And like that voyage of two ships, they headed towards the same destination. Somewhere they could openly talk, rejoice, explain the past month of ignorance and pain.

There weren't many watching eyes in the halls, working hours keeping people inside offices. No one questioned the model's company, simply passing it by as some new friend being shown around the complex. The perks of Jungkook's faceless fame.

Jungkook could hardly breathe, though, hand tightening on the elder's shirt as they traveled up a flight of stairs and down clean, simple halls, countless wooden doors that were familiar to the photographer.

And where his eyes were met by the beautiful face he'd only seen as a stranger for the past month, his heart weighed heavy in his chest. It seemed too good to be true. He was scared he'd be waking up from a dream, staring at his monitors and gaming, a empty bowl of eaten noodles beside his arm as he waited for Jimin to come back from work.

Was fate actually in his favor?

Taehyung stopped in front of a door, smiling back at Jungkook and moving his arm away from the younger's hand. Jungkook felt dread fill him at the loss of contact, but then his hand was filled with warmth again, the long fingers filling in the gaps of his, the soft ridges and creases encasing his with a wondrous twine of care.

The model pushed the door open and tugged on him gently, Jungkook losing all ability to focus as they stood inside the empty meeting room and the door clicked shut behind them.