dissolve. ✓

EIGHT

jeongguk woke up slowly—a wholly unfamiliar experience by now—awareness coming back to him sense by sense: the glow of mid-morning sunlight through closed eyelids, rosy and soft and just bright enough to sting after the blackness of sleep; the scratch-sweep sensation of cotton sheets against the skin of his back where his shirt had ridden up; the peeping of a bird somewhere to his right, probably perched on the tree outside his wonder, and the distant rumble of traffic; the familiar scent of his favorite pillow where his face was mashed into it.

it was the first time in a long time that jeongguk had woken naturally, without the cold jolt of fear and disorientation that had followed him into what may or may not have been the waking world for the last however long it had been since this whole thing started. there was none of that in this moment, no doubt about where he was or what was happening. he was in his bedroom, waking up from a peaceful sleep like the normal person he used to be.

the only cause for confusion was that he was alone in his bed. he could have sworn he remembered taehyung coming last night—taehyung holding him, gentling him like a startled horse, petting his hair and murmuring reassurances, talking him down and telling him it was okay—but there were no arms around him now. jeongguk sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and wondering if that part had been a dream. if so, at least it had been a nice one. he could use more nice dreams like that.

but the pillow beside his had a head-shaped dent in it and when he ran his hands over the rumpled sheets behind him, they were still warm to the touch. so taehyung had definitely been there, and not long ago. jeongguk let out a sigh of relief, a ball of something warm and sweet settling into his stomach because that happened. taehyung's presence had actually given him a good night's sleep. namjoon hadn't managed that, or his dad, or even her. but taehyung had.

maybe there was something to this whole soulmate bond after all.

jeongguk clambered out of bed regretfully, half-wishing he could sink back into it and find more of that actual rest that had eluded him for so long. a glance at his bedside clock told him that he had been out for seven hours straight—he hadn't slept that much in a single night in weeks, months even. with a jaw-cracking yawn, jeongguk lifted his arms over his head, leaning one way and then the other. every muscle in his body, sore from the tension he carried with him like a coat, protested the movement but the stretch felt sinfully good. a last shake of his head and he was officially awake.

jeongguk went through his normal morning bathroom routine and made his way downstairs, cautiously optimistic. the door to his dad's room was closed, so he was home from his shift and probably passed out by now. jeongguk ran his fingers across the door as he walked by like he always did, following the smooth tracks worn into the wood by years of the same motion, and moved on without disturbing him.

the smell of coffee met him halfway down the stairs and jeongguk picked up his pace. he skipped down the last few steps and rounded the corner into the kitchen to see taehyung leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in hand, one of his dad's generic ones re-appropriated from the police department. he had changed out of his t-shirt from the night before and into a tank top instead, tight enough to ride up a bit on his stomach - a lovely and distracting counterpoint to the pajama pants still slung low on his hips. he looked like he had rolled off the front page of some bed and breakfast magazine.

jeongguk hesitated in the doorway, shoulder braced on the frame and eyes fixed on taehyung's fingers curled around his mug, place against the blue ceramic. those fingers had been on his skin last night, firm and gentle and coaxing, and he didn't know what to do. kim taehyung was standing in his kitchen drinking coffee like it was normal thing and it seemed twice as surreal in the light of day.