hanahaki ⚣ taekook

- 5

a/n: one more chapter left.

"say what the members mean to you!" hoseok repeats the fan's question with a squeal, turning to face the others with a mischievous grin. "this is going to be embarrassing."

"to me, hobi means embarrassment," namjoon fires without hesitation.

"joon-hyung means extra investment in life insurance," taehyung gives a little cough– damn those are getting more frequent– and smirks.

"taehyung!" namjoon protests as the others crack up.

summer is bleeding into fall, the leaves that cover the ground are as crisp as the weather, and the members are filed in a neat line across the raised platform. the fan meeting is going well, even for namjoon who's all smiles despite his attempts to appear offended.

taehyung silently points to the broken mic jack namjoon accidentally decapitated when he tripped up the stage, a single judging eyebrow all he needs to prove his point. seokjin hits him over the head for the comment, but taehyung's unphased; namjoon deserves everything he gets for his destruction of sound equipment.

hoseok screams something about the real leader finally showing through– christ, he's always screaming– and then prattles off something disgustingly cheesy about yoongi next to him, who in turn coos at jimin until the boy is red and attempting to bury his face in the collar of his shirt.

"i have something to say about someone in our group," jungkook announces, his serious expression sobering the crowd. "everyone knows about our taehyung, right?"

the crowd screams back at him, a jumbled mess of squeals, and taehyung realizes where jungkook's going with this.

"this hyung is seriously handsome; his skin is pretty, his smile is pretty too–"

"just kiss him already," jimin interrupts–

"but he always hides his body under these thick sweaters," jungkook continues, a scalding glare the only remark he gives jimin. he walks over to taehyung, who holds his breath as jungkook places his hands at the hem of taehyung's sweater.

taehyung narrows his eyes but doesn't move away. jungkook wouldn't dare.

jungkook doesn't tug, but he turns to face the crowd. "everyone, do you love chocolate?"

sounds of agreement chorus after him. "you still love chocolate after it's melted, right?" more obedient agreement. "and we love taehyung when his abs are eight pieces of chocolate or all melted too?" a deafening scream shows the fans' consensus.

"recently, it seems like taehyung is feeling upset about his body." jungkook pointedly avoids taehyung's eyes. "should we encourage him together?."

his gaze stays low as he continues. "i know how hard it is, but i wish taehyung would care about his body as much as he cares about his us. please take care of your health so we don't get worried–" he pauses, hesitant– "because in my eyes, taehyung is a true flower boy."

"tae," jungkook finally looks up through his fringe, brilliant crescent eyes enveloped by smile lines, and taehyung feels the tell-tale shortness of breath build in his chest.

no, no, no, not now, please, god, not now. he opens his mouth, desperate, trying to cut jungkook off–

"you know i love you, right?"

a single red petal falls from his open lips, a hiccup of surprise he couldn't swallow down, a sting of pain as the flower's teeth scrape his throat, a freckle of blood darkening spots on the bloom.

in seconds, he's on his knees, choking and retching and gasping for air as entire flowers, stems and thorns and all, work their way up his lungs and litter the stage floor. he's wheezing between each bloom but when jungkook falls to the floor next to him, holds him to his chest and screams for an ambulance, his chest tightens so hard taehyung sees black spots, and he can't tell if it's the flowers in his throat or his love for jungkook that's killing him but fuck if it doesn't hurt–