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The next morning is the coldest yet, and it’s almost tragic (or unfortunately comical, as Jungkook would have put it, to see Taehyung scowl and try to stuff his hands deeper into the limits of Jungkook's coat pocket) how they’d been expecting at least some semblance of spring.
Jungkook knows this from the rude breeze that steals beneath the covers when he reaches over, only to feel empty air in the space beside him.
There’s a sliver of light, tinted orange and the softest blue, scattered in freckles over the white sheets. Jungkook's eyes chase the rays back to the gap between the curtains, where Taehyung stands with his back to him, his hair soft and messy in the morning glow.
“Come back to bed,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice still hoarse and sleep-laden, but Taehyung hears him, letting the curtains fall over the open window as he turns around. “It’s freezing.”
“I wasn’t aware that I’m your personal space heater now,” Taehyung lifts a brow, but at Jungkook's disgruntled expression, he chuckles and pulls the windows shut before tucking himself back under the sheets, tangling their legs together. “Better?”
Jungkook nods, letting his eyes flutter shut again beneath the gentle caresses of Taehyung's fingers threading through his hair. “Better,” he echoes, and he feels Taehyung's lips against his temple while he drifts back to sleep.
(This would be one of Jungkook's favourite memories, a little later when he starts to miss waking up in the mornings to a clumsy bump of Taehyung's nose against his, a sprinkle of sunshine in Taehyung's sleepy smile.)
When he wakes the second time, Taehyung is straddling his hips, and Jungkook has to blink a couple of times before the edges of his vision stop blurring. His hands smooth up the other’s thighs, instinctive, and Taehyung hums, low and appreciative.
“Hey,” Jungkook says, equal parts confused and affectionate.
“You sleep like the dead,” is what Taehyung responds with, and Jungkook catches the twinkle in his eyes, feeding his now budding suspicion.
Jungkook rolls them over, smothering Taehyung between him and the mattress, takes pride in the way Taehyung stares up at him all dazed and— oh, Jungkook wonders if he looks at Taehyung that way too, sometimes. Wonders if Taehyung notices whenever he does.
“What did you do?” Jungkook kisses the words into Taehyung's skin, palms gliding up the back of Taehyung's shirt as tilts his head up to capture Jungkook's lips in a languid kiss. He tastes sweet, a little like desperation, a little (a lot, very much so) like a drug.
It’s expected when Taehyung doesn’t respond with a proper answer, just smiles and pulls away to press his index finger against Jungkook's lips. Jungkook tips his head to the side, inquisitive, and Taehyung reaches out, making a clumsy grab at his polaroid camera.
