Taekook AU | Drabble

It was movie night, as always but... Not quite.

They were all there, all seven of them, free of uni struggles and ready to just live quietly for a few hours.

Jeongguk, however, still had struggles in his mind. Different kinds. Not uni kinds.

It different.
He takes the responsibility to prepare the popcorn and drinks, alone in Seokjin's kitchen with stormy thoughts flying in his head and anticipation bubbling in his tummy.

It's different.

He's not alone this time. He's not single. He's not with one that's expected of him, either.
"Hurry the fuck up, Gguk," Jimin's voice groans, echoes until something in his head shatters and he shakes it, hoping to get rid of all the nerves as well.

It is. Different.

Different as he put the popcorn bowls on the small coffee table and looks around, disoriented.
All of them are there. His friends. Oldest friends. All spread out on the couch, floor, Seokjin's weird, antic chairs that are more comfortable than you think.

And then, Taehyung is there, already looking at him. Calm as the ocean, a beauty rivaling the moon itself.

Jeongguk's.
"Come on," Taehyung murmurs softly as he sees Jeongguk's dilemma in only a second, legs spreading, as always, and shorts riding up his plush thighs. "Sit here."

And Jeongguk feels panic. Strong in his chest, in his confused brain. "I- Tae, I'm heavy."

He is.
Never did something like this. Never has someone like /this/. Never a man.

Never someone like Taehyung, who smiles, a simple stretch of soft lips, and tugs his wrist without a word.

Jeongguk stutters another prostes, face heating up. Futile.
He falls on Taehyung's thigh with a little sound, face going on instinct to hide in his boyfriend's neck as gentle hands lift his legs up, put them on his other thigh.

It's. Weird. Being in someone's lap, and not the lap that holds someone else.

They are the same height,
but Jeongguk can't help but curl into himself with hopes that he isn't crushing Taehyung under him by barely breathing too hard.

But Taehyung doesn't protest, doesn't strain under him. He just slithers an arm around Jeongguk's waist, fingers restless against his tummy,
head leaning onto Jeongguk's, other hand tracing soft line on his leg, thumbing at Jeongguk's dainty ankle until he feels his toes curling.

Gentle. Warm. He doesn't smell like flowers and sweet perfume. He smells like a sunny day, like honey comb.
He isn't giggling every five seconds to get his attention, he isn't tugging at his clothes insistently, isn't whining "Jeonggukie" in a hush, careless whispers that always disrupts the calm atmosphere of their movie night tradition.

Taehyung is. He's... Taehyung.
He turns his head when he wants to whisper a comment, breathy tone against Jeongguk's attentive ear, smile always there. Always simple, a simple stretch of soft lips.

He lets Jeongguk come out of his neck, lets him take his time to not feel out of place. Let's him stay
curled up in a tiny ball of nerves and caution until he's spreading his legs tentatively, he's clutching softly at Taehyung's downy sweater and resting his cheek against Taehyung beating chest to look at the movie, eyes still murky, blush still high, doubts still loud.
It passes slowly, his hearts never does, however. Never slows down as Taehyung rumbles a laugh, a giggle, a guffaw along with Jimin's bell-like laugh.

His boyfriend might be aching, he has to. Jeongguk is heavy. He has no place in laps. He shouldn't.

But he can't stand up.
He can't deny the love that grows in his chest like a tentative home, can't deny closing his eyes every time Taehyung shuffles, holds him closer.

Maybe that's how it has to be this time. Maybe he has to be the one on the lap, the one blushing.

Is it? Does it work like that?
Should he climb on Taehyung every time? Should he get used to it? To the reverse of role that a relationship this different brings?

Is it that different, or just the same but inverted?

He doesn't speak about it, even as the move night ends and he watches Taehyung stretch with
groan as he stands up, sleepy and /satisfied/ when Jeongguk takes his hands with timid fingers so they can get ready to leave.

"Sleep at mine?" His boyfriend asks softly, tugging and tugging until his breath rests against Jeongguk's cheek.

Jeongguk never speaks of it.
He doesn't /have/ to.

It's gratifying. How Taehyung just shows him.

Because it is. It's different.

He can sit in Taehyung's lap.

And then Taehyung can sit on his with mindless ease.
He can just. Sneak his way in Jeongguk's lap after a nap, just comes into the living room, a little pouty, a little messed up from sleep, and sits on his lap with a grunt.

Jeongguk feels dumb. Numb. He feels distinct. Feels like it shouldn't make sense.

But it does.
Because his boyfriend is like that. He's just like that. Not at all shy, not curling in his shame and skepticism.

He is tiny and sleepy in Jeongguk's lap, yawning while playing with the veins on Jeongguk's naked arms, tracing the tattoos on there,
he comments from time to time, every time Jeongguk's dies in the game showing on the TV, despite Jeongguk's silence, his screaming thoughts.

He smells the same. He /is/ heavy. A heavy weight on his thighs, against his chest. He doesn't giggle, doesn't whine for attention.
Calm, as always. Different.

Jeongguk gets it now. He does.

There is no 'who' that has to do it only. There is no role in this, he thinks as Taehyung falls asleep, face mushed against his collarbine and possessive arm around Jeongguk's waist.
It's different. They are the same height, have the same husky voice in the morning, the same morning wood pressed against each other's legs, against the small of the other's back.

The is no softness in some of their habits. No 'you should be like this and I'll be like this'.
There is no difference in their strength of mind, in their character as they giggle like two dumbasses while they throw pillows at each other.

Taehyung grows stubble every now and then, Jeongguk's amazed by how it feels against his face when they kiss, against his skin.
His boyfriend loves piggybacks, love to knead Jeongguk's muscles all day, loves to make a show of it by groaning, growling, moaning every time Jeongguk manhandles him.

He loves to restrain Jeongguk's arms every time they make out, against every piece of furniture,
in Jimin's bed just to annoy him.

Jeongguk loves when Taehyung looks at him with puppy eyes after a fight, when he pouts while eating, he loves Taehyung when he grinds against him in the clubs, when he grips at his waist until it aches in the best way.
He loves when Taehyung wraps around him like a loving optocus at night, love having Taehyung sleeping on his chest, loves sleeping on Taehyung's chest.

Loves moaning for him, growling for him, grunting for him. He loves when Taehyung's voice gets high-pitched, when
it lowers like a bass ringing in his heart, when it's rough, when it's soft and timid. He loves. Loves. /Loves./

Loves fighting him about paying the bill. Loves how they take turns to take each other on dates.

Loves Taehyung in silks, loves him in leather,
he loves him in lewd lingerie and loves to wear lacy panties for him.

Loves smooching his nose, loves smooching his thighs. He loves being kissed all over his body, marked and being able to wear them proudly, to give Taehyung pretty hickeys.
He loves Taehyung with clips and bows in his curly hair, loves his broad grins and frat boy caps just as much.

Taehyung. He loves Taehyung. The first man he fell in love with, the first one and the last one.

He loves being loved.
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