TAEKOOK | HOPE

• 24 still so fucked

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The next day dawns a bit gloomier than the first, a thick layer of gray clouds carpeting the sky. Yoongi makes the argument that this is actually the perfect weather for them to go to the beach, but they end up overruling him in favor of exploring the small town near their house.

There's not a tremendous amount to do, but they had picked that deliberately, somewhere not as touristy where they're less likely to be recognized. Even still, they go out wearing hats and face masks as an added precaution, and break out into smaller groups to avoid drawing extra attention.

Jeongguk ends up with Taehyung and Jimin, wandering in and out of a row of boutiques dotted along the town's main drag. Predictably, Taehyung fixates on the shirts with the most garish prints and patterns, ripping a whole armful off the rack for them to try on.

"I think I can really make this work," he says seriously, emerging from the dusty dressing room in a bright turquoise shirt adorned with cartoon sea turtles. "It's a statement piece."

Privately, Jeongguk marvels at the fact that Taehyung actually is making it work, in spite of how ridiculous the shirt is.

"Is the statement that you're a 60 year-old American dad who frequents bingo night and likes to barbecue?" Jimin asks, snickering, and Taehyung throws a straw hat at him.

"You clearly just don't understand fashion," Taehyung sniffs, admiring his reflection in the mirror. "Guk, you like it, right?"

They both turn to him, expectant. "It's like it was made for you," Jeongguk says, and Jimin rolls his eyes while Taehyung cheers.

"I forgot how insufferable you two are together," Jimin mutters, drifting off to observe a stand of postcards.

Taehyung shakes his head regretfully. "Such a simpleton." He turns to Jeongguk, eyes glinting with mischief. "Okay, your turn!"

And really, Jeongguk should have known this was coming.

"I really don't - " he starts to protest, but Taehyung is already shoving him unceremoniously into the dressing room, throwing a hot pink, flamingo patterned shirt in his face. As an added bonus, the flamingos are wearing sunglasses.

"Absolutely not," he says a minute later, when he steps back out from behind the curtain and catches sight of himself in the mirror. In addition to being a hideous monstrosity, the shirt is too tight and looks generally ridiculous on him.

Taehyung immediately bursts into a fit of hysterical laughter. "Oh my god," he gasps, delighted.

"I hate you," Jeongguk informs him, turning to go back into the dressing room.

"Wait!" Taehyung yelps, catching his arm. "You can't take it off, hang on, I need a picture - "

"Fuck no." Jeongguk reaches for the buttons of the shirt, racing to undo them before Taehyung locates his phone.

Taehyung realizes what he's doing and promptly starts rebuttoning the buttons that Jeongguk has already unfastened.

"Are you fucking serious - "

"Just, wait one second - "

The situation is so absurd that it takes a few seconds for Jeongguk's brain to catch up to the fact that he and Taehyung are standing just a few inches apart, both of them giggling as they fumble with the buttons of his ridiculous pink shirt. Their fingers keep brushing together, and fuck if the implications of this scenario don't have Jeongguk's brain going haywire, the tips of his ears flushing as pink as the shirt.

Isn't he supposed to be an adult, or something? Shouldn't he be able to handle being in close proximity to his ex without having a mental breakdown?

Apparently not, because all he can think about is the two of them doing this in a different context, fingers trembling in their rush to get naked, desperate to feel skin on skin.

God, Jeongguk is still so fucked.

His hands still somewhere along the course of this panic spiral, and Taehyung must notice because a second later his gaze flicks up to Jeongguk, eyes a little wide.

"There," he says, - does he sound just a shade breathless? - taking a step back. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Jeongguk flips him the bird.

Over Taehyung's shoulder, he catches Jimin watching them, eyebrows somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline.

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