Work Text:
Taehyung wakes up to the unmistakable sound of betrayal. To be more specific, it was the betrayal of his alarm clock going off on a Saturday. A Saturday?!?!
He groans then rolls over, and reaches out blindly, patting the other side of the bed.
And there is no one there. It was empty, which itself is suspicious.
Jungkook is many things, but “awake” before Taehyung “on a winter morning” is not usually one of them unless there is an emergency, or an airport involved, or the neighbour’s very aggressive cat choking on a furball.
Taehyung squints to look at the clock. It is 8:12 a.m.
“Absolutely not,” he mutters, shoving his face into the pillow. And that is when he smells it.
It’s coffee. Fresh, strong, good beans coffee he brought recently from a trip.
That’s how Taehyung opens one eye.
The apartment is quiet in that particular way that means ‘something is happening without you’. There’s no usual clatter, no humming, no Jungkook singing to himself in the kitchen.
It’s just… stillness. Very suspicious stillness.
He drags himself out of bed, throws on Jungkook’s hoodie… because it’s closer, and walks into the kitchen.
That’s where he sees it.
His mug is already on the counter. Full and perfectly brewed, steam curling up like it’s proud of itself.
But most importantly, tucked neatly beneath the handle is a small card. And Taehyung freezes.
He stares at it for a solid ten seconds, coffee forgotten, brain booting up slowly like an old computer on Ms-Dos.
“…why is there a card?” he asks to the empty room. Unfortunately (and predictably) the card does not answer. Finally, he picks it up. It was one of those christmas themed tags they had bought for putting up on any gifts or party favours they might need this year.
It was in Jungkook’s handwriting, immediately recognizable. The handwriting of someone who labels things and remembers birthdays and draws a doodle next to everything.
The card on the front reads:
Good morning.
Before you panic: no one is missing, nothing is on fire, and you are not late.
Taehyung exhales, already smiling and also hating how much Jungkook knows about him and his reactions. Taehyung flips the card.
Drink your coffee. Then follow the next clue.
P.S. You look cute when you’re confused.
“Oh my god,” Taehyung mutters. “He’s being a dork before 9 a.m.”
He looks around again, half-expecting Jungkook to pop out from behind the TV unit or curtain grinning like an idiot. There was nothing. Taehyung takes a cautious sip of coffee. It’s perfect. Of course it is. (mentally rolls eyes at himself)
“This better not involve cardio, Jeon Jungkook” he announces loudly. And still nothing came in response. He flips the card over.
Clue #1 is somewhere we argue about every December.
Taehyung groans at how easy this was.
“The tree,” he says immediately. “It’s the tree.”
He turns toward the living room, where their Christmas tree stands in its usual place, slightly crooked towards the top and definitely too close to the window. They have argued about this tree’s position for seven consecutive years now.
Taehyung approaches it slowly, eyeing it like it might explode or maybe Jungkook is hiding behind it and will pop out wearing nothing but a Santa hat. (or so was what his dreams were made of. He must tell Jungkook someday. For now, the tree... )
Nothing looks different at first glance. It has the same mismatched ornaments, same handmade decorations Jungkook refuses to throw away. Even the same star at the top, leaning just a little to the left.
Taehyung smiles despite himself. And then… Then he spots it. tied carefully to one of the lower branches is a tiny envelope, secured with red ribbon.
“…wow,” Taehyung murmurs. “He really committed to doing this clue thing.”
He unties it and opens the envelope.
Inside is another note. And a small ornament. One of the first ones they ever bought together more than eight years ago. It is a cheap, slightly chipped, shaped like a snowman with a crooked smile, but very precious to both of them.
The note reads:
You said this one was ugly.
You were wrong.
(About this. Not about most things.)
Taehyung laughs out loud.
He turns the ornament over in his hand, thumb brushing over the chipped paint. He remembers that day clearly. They were so young, broke, freezing, arguing about whether they needed ornaments at all. But, Jungkook had bought it anyway. Because Jungkook always bought things Taehyung pretended not to want.
The bottom of the note continues:
You kept me warm before we had heat.
Thank you for that.
Taehyung’s smile softens. His chest does a small, unexpected thing. “Okay,” he says quietly. “That was rude, Jungkook.”
He flips the note.
Clue #2: Get dressed. You’ll need gloves.
And no, you can’t guess where we’re going. You always ruin it.
Taehyung snorted his coffee nearly. “I do not ruin things,” he says, heading for the bedroom. “I simply… enhance them.”
He gets dressed quickly, heart humming now, curiosity officially engaged. He pulls on his scarf, boots, and of course gloves.
But… there was still no Jungkook.
When he goes to open the door, there’s another note taped to the inside.
I’m nearby. Stop checking corners. Start walking towards the main square.
Taehyung laughs, shaking his head as he steps outside into the cold.
The city is bright with early snow, everything softened and glowing. Christmas lights are still on from the night before. Everything feels gentler than usual.
He walks a few blocks before spotting the next clue.
It’s a message as soon as he is approaching the door of their old frequented corner café.
The one they used to come to before work. The one where Jungkook learned Taehyung’s order by heart after two visits. The one where they used to sit quietly together, sharing headphones.
Taehyung pauses. Here he pauses and takes a very deep breath. This feels… very deliberate. He find it difficult to peel his eyes off the screen which said:
Inside. Don’t order. It's already done and paid.
Taehyung raises an eyebrow as he talks to the breeze again, “Mysterious and fiscally responsible. I’m impressed.”
Inside, the barista greets him as she recognizes him. Sets down a familiar pastry and a coffee without asking. Taehyung swallows the tears that start to build and threaten to fall.
There’s another envelope waiting on the tray that lands at the table they always used to sit at. He opens it slowly.
You like your coffee sweet, even when you pretend you don’t.
You like sitting with your back to the wall.
You like being noticed quietly.
Taehyung’s throat tightens, just a little. He flips the note and it ends with:
I still notice.
Next stop is somewhere you pretend you don’t like going.
Taehyung exhales loudly, his heart doing that thing again. He looks around the café. Near the window... across the table... The chair Jungkook used to steal because it was warmer. For the first time since this started, a small question starts to form in his chest.
He was not worried about anything nor doubtful. It was just curiosity edged with something deeper.
“Where is all this going? What is going on his head?”
Taehyung leaves the café with full hands and a fuller chest, like someone slipped a heater under his coat and everything turned warm.
The note crinkles in his pocket as he walks, and he keeps touching it as if it might evaporate if he doesn’t check on it.
Somewhere you pretend you don’t like going
That could be, unfortunately, half the city. He was really scanning places mentally and realising there are a lot of places he cribs about, but he loves going there with Jungkook. He loves cribbing about those places to Jungkook. It was just their thing.
Taehyung takes three steps, then stops in the middle of the sidewalk and turns in a slow circle like a confused compass trying to find north.
“Okay, Jeon Jungkook,” he mutters to the air, again “If you are making me do a scavenger hunt across every emotionally significant location we’ve ever existed in, I’m billing you for therapy.”
A couple passes by holding hands, matching red scarves. The woman gives Taehyung a sympathetic look, like she thinks he’s been dumped in public and is now speaking to universe.
Taehyung waves politely anyway. He is a grown man. He will not be shamed for talking to himself publicly. He walks another block, thinking, thinking real hard.
Places he pretends he doesn’t like going.
Their old apartment building? No. Too far.
The bookstore they used to argue in? No. Because its very heated inside there and that does not explain the gloves.
The park bench where Jungkook kissed him for the first time in snow? Okay, rude brain.
As if on cue, his phone buzzes again.
It was… of course a text.
JK: Stop looking like you’re about to fight a lamppost. Go to the place with the green door.
Taehyung pauses so abruptly he nearly body-checks a man passing by in a Santa hat. It was not Jungkook. He apologies and types back immediately.
Tae: Are you watching me like a nature documentary?
A moment later reply came:
JK: Yes. The subject is dramatic and refuses to wear a hat even on such a cold day.
Tae: Hats ruin my vibe.
JK: Your ears are red.
Tae: That’s my face’s business, not yours.
JK: I’m making it my business. Green door. Now.
Taehyung glares at his screen, but his mouth is doing that stupid thing again. That slow smile coming across his face. He knows the green door.
It’s the florist they used to pass on the way home. A tiny shop always bursting with plants and seasonal arrangements and those little paper tags that say things like You’re doing great! as if flowers have the side business of giving therapy.
They used to stop there. Jungkook used to linger. Taehyung would pretend he wasn’t delighted.
They stopped going when life got busy. When dinners became cooked and elaborate at home, when conversations became around schedules, when love stayed steady but quieter and tucked behind the scenes.
Taehyung reaches the shop and finds the green door exactly as he remembers it, a wreath hanging, bells chiming softly when he pushes inside.
The warmth of familiarity and deja vu hits him first. Then the smell: pine, roses, damp earth, and Christmas cinnamon.
A woman behind the counter looks up and smiles like she’s been expecting him.
“Kim Taehyung?” she asks.
Taehyung stops, but is not surprised, “Yes?”
She nods toward a small table near the window, “Your… friend left something for you.”
Friend. Taehyung’s brain supplies, unhelpfully, words like… Your boyfriend. Your partner? Your… almost whatever? But… friend was funny.
He clears his throat and walks to the table. There’s a small brown paper bag with his name written in Jungkook’s handwriting.
And a note taped on top.
Don’t roll your eyes. I can feel it from wherever I am.
Taehyung laughs out loud, “He’s insane.” He opens the note.
You pretend you don’t miss this place, but you used to stop and stare like a cat at a fish tank.
Taehyung presses his lips together, trying not to laugh too loudly in public.
And then he opens the bag. He does, thinking nothing but hoping for something.
Inside is a small potted plant. It is not a fancy one. Just a tiny sturdy thing with thick green leaves, the kind that survives well on its own for a few days. And tucked beside it is a little tag.
For your desk. So you stop buying pens-stands for it to look aesthetic.
Taehyung’s throat goes weird, and he's telling himself, It’s ridiculous. It’s just a plant. A tiny plant, Tae. You cannot cry over a tiny plant
But it’s also… Jungkook, looking at Taehyung’s life from the inside. Remembering his habits. His smallest needs. His tendency to care for everything except himself.
The florist watches him gently from behind the counter, and Taehyung realizes he’s standing there holding a plant like it will burst any moment.
He forces a laugh, and tells the lady, “Of course he did this.” The lady nods in agreement with a warm smile and little tears in her eyes. She hands him the next clue.
Clue #3: Go somewhere we fought once and then couldn’t stay mad because you started laughing first.
Taehyung exhales. This one is easier, very much so. The grocery store.
Because they once had a thirty-minute argument in the cereal aisle about whether buying “Christmas-themed cornflakes” counted as festivity or a scam. And then Taehyung suddenly saw a doodle on the cornflake packet and he needed to laugh at that. And… Jungkook had tried to stay mad, but failed miserably.
Taehyung walks there, the plant cradled in one arm like it is a baby and a stupid grin on his face. He’s aware of people looking, but he doesn’t care.
He finds the next clue in texts when he is at the display of holiday chocolates. He pulled out his phone and reads it aloud this time.
JK: Good. You found your way here. I knew you would.
(And yes, you can stop holding the plant like a hostage.)
Taehyung huffs and says to himself, “He’s definitely watching me.” and the phone buzzes again.
JK: Clue #4: Buy the thing you always talk yourself out of. It’s on me this time.
Taehyung looks up slowly, suspicious. He scans the aisle he is standing on. It has chocolate, cookies, candy canes… and the fancy imported cocoa powder in a pretty tin.
Taehyung narrows his eyes at the cocoa powder as he picks it up. Then his phone buzzes again.
JK: Don’t you dare pick the cheap one.
Taehyung’s jaw drops and he gasps, “OH MY GOD.” as he types furiously.
Tae: YOU’RE A STALKER.
JK: I’m a romantic.
Tae: These are different names for the same crime.
JK: Buy the good cocoa. No compromise cocoa today.
Taehyung stares at the tin, warmth climbing up his chest and straight into his face.
“Fine,” he mutters, putting the good cocoa into his basket. “I hope you know you’re setting a precedent you will need to follow henceforth.”
He makes his way to the counter and pays. The cashier hands him the bag with a bored “Merry Christmas.”
Taehyung walks out into the cold again and finds the phone buzz again and he unlocks it. What he sees makes him pause. His laughter is gone now, replaced by something quieter.
It read:
JK: You’ve carried a lot without letting anyone carry you back.
You make jokes when you’re overwhelmed.
You smile when you’re about to cry.
I see it.
Taehyung’s breath catches, sharp and he was sure this was not a game anymore. Also this was not a clue, not really.
It felt like a hand on the back of his neck, and like Jungkook is saying: I know the difference between your happy face and your brave face. The message continues:
Clue #5 is at home.
Come back.
And yes, I’m still nearby.
Stop trying to triangulate me like a spy movie.
Taehyung presses the phone to his chest for a second like it’s silly to do so but also impossible not to. He rushes home, of course he does, and when he gets home, the apartment looks the same as he left, but he doesn’t feel the same.
The lights somehow feel brighter. He steps inside and freezes, because taped to the mirror in the entryway is a final envelope. He is sure this was not there when he left. It’s also thicker than the others.
Taehyung’s fingers hover over it for a moment. The little question mark in his chest grows deeper.
Where is this going?
He opens it and inside is a letter. It’s not too long… but still it's not a note, it's a letter.
My Taehyungie,
We got busy. We got tired. We got good at surviving the week and forgot to celebrate the life we were building.
I kept thinking: we’re fine. We’re happy. We’re us.
But I also kept thinking: what if one day you wake up and realize I never said it properly? That I never asked you for forever. That I assumed you’d stay without giving you something to hold onto.
I don’t want to be the kind of love that’s only obvious when it’s missing.
So. One more stop.
A real one.
Wait for me in the living room.
And don’t fix the star. I tilted it on purpose this time.P.S. If you cry, I will kiss you until you forget how.
Taehyung lets out a breath that trembles through his chest and spine. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his glove, and moves forward.
“Jungkookie,” he whispers into the quiet apartment, “What are you doing, baby?”
And then, because his boyfriend is an emotional menace with a sense of humor, the last line of the letter reads:
P.S. If you cry, I will kiss you until you forget how.
Taehyung stares at it. Then he mutters, “Threatening me with a good time. Typical.”
Still, he walks into the living room and sits on the couch and waits. His heart beats loud in the soft glow of the afternoon light. And also because he knows, somewhere nearby, Jungkook finally is there.
And as he waits, Taehyung does not fidget. He would very much like that on record. He merely… adjusts his position frequently while waiting.
The couch creaks under him as he shifts, then shifts again, plant on one side, grocery bag on the other, cocoa tin peeking out. His knee bounces as he tells it to stop, but it was his knee so of course it does not listen. Taehyung exhales slowly and whispers “This is fine. All is fine. I’m very calm. I am famously calm.”
The bedroom door clicks behind him and Taehyung’s head snaps up.
Jungkook steps out into the living room like he hasn’t just emotionally dismantled his partner across six locations. He’s also bundled up, scarf half-undone, cheeks pink from the cold. But most of it all…. He looks… nervous. Which is new for Taehyung.
They stare at each other for sometime.
“You waited…” Jungkook says finally, voice light but eyes searching.
Taehyung huffs out a loud laugh as he said, “I considered hiding in the bathroom. But then I remembered you’d be able to break through the door.”
Jungkook smiles, relief loosening his shoulders. And he walks closer to ask, “Did you hate it all?”
Taehyung blinks, “What? No. I…” He gestures vaguely at everything. “I’m holding a plant hostage and my feelings are in several grocery bags. I think that answers that.”
Jungkook laughs, quiet and the fond nose scrunch he gets when Taehyung is being endearing, “Good.”
He stops a step away from Taehyung but close enough that Taehyung can see the tiny crease between Jungkook’s brows. The one that only shows up when he’s anxious.
“Come here,” Jungkook says gently.
Taehyung stands up from the couch and immediately bumps into Jungkook because thier spatial awareness has abandoned them years ago.
“Smooth,” Taehyung mutters.
Jungkook grins as he replies “Always.”
He reaches out, fingers warm as they brush Taehyung’s wrist, guiding him backward, very slowly and very very deliberately. Taehyung lets himself be led, heart pounding, until his back meets the wall near the window. He swallows hard and Jungkook leans in just enough that Taehyung can feel his presence without being touched.
That’s when Jungkook glances up. “Oh,” he says mildly. “Would you look at that?”
Taehyung follows his gaze.
It was the … Mistletoe.
Perfectly placed, absolutely green and hung with intention, which also Taehyung is sure was not there when he left.
“You are unbelievable,” Taehyung breathes.
Jungkook’s mouth curves, “I had help.”
“From what? Elves?”
“From love,” Jungkook replies, and Taehyung snorts, the sound shaky and little unsure. As if he is waiting for some kind of shoe to drop.
Jungkook lifts a hand, cups Taehyung’s jaw. His thumb brushes gently over the corner of Taehyung’s mouth.
“This kiss,” Jungkook says quietly, “will feel different.”
Taehyung’s breath stutters. “You say that every time you want to kiss me.”
“I know,” Jungkook admits. “But this time I mean it.”
He kisses Taehyung, not like he always did like a habit, not even like muscle memory reaching for something familiar. Jungkook kisses Taehyung like he’s just arriving home.
It’s slow, almost hesitant at first, his hand stays steady at Taehyung’s jaw, thumb warm against skin, grounding him there.
Taehyung inhales sharply, surprised by how different it feels. This kiss doesn’t blur at the edges. It sharpens and it presses meaning into every second, like Jungkook is imprinting something permanent instead of stealing a moment with his boyfriend.
When Taehyung leans in, finally, it’s with a soft sound of surrender, his hands curling into Jungkook’s sweater as if to anchor himself. Jungkook deepens the kiss then, just a fraction more. This isn’t the kind of kiss that makes the world disappear. It’s the kind that makes it settle.
When Jungkook pulls back, he stays close, forehead resting against Taehyung’s, breathing warm.
Taehyung blinks, needless to say dazed, his heart beating loud in his chest.
“Oh,” he whispers, like he’s just realized something important.
Jungkook exhales, smiling softly and even smugly.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “That one.”
Taehyung laughs softly, breathless. “That was unfair, baby.”
Jungkook smiles. “Wait. I’m also not done, baby.”
He steps back just enough to reach into his pocket.
Taehyung’s brain short-circuits as he starts to put two and two together, finally.
“No,” he says immediately. “No. Absolutely not. I will pass out, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook chuckles, fondly as always, “You’ll be fine, Taehyungie”
He opens his hand, and the ring catches the light. It’s perfect, not flashy, not understated and exactly Taehyung. The one he added to his wish list years ago. The one he showed Jungkook once and then pretended not to care about.
Taehyung stares. His voice comes out small and controlled, “You… you did not just do that?”
Jungkook nods. “You put it in your wishlist. I pretended not to notice. I noticed.”
Taehyung’s eyes sting again. Rude, he mentally noted, Jungkook is rude.
Jungkook takes a breath, “I love our life,” he says. “I love our routines. I love that we’re good at being us. But I don’t want to assume you’ll always know what you mean to me.”
He drops to one knee.
Taehyung gasps. Like… Actually gasps, “Oh my god,” he whispers. “You’re really doing it.”
Jungkook smiles up at him, eyes bright and steady.
“Kim Taehyung,” he says. “Will you marry me? Will you keep choosing me, loudly, officially, forever?”
Taehyung laughs through tears, hands flying to his face, “You absolute menace,” he chokes. “You planned all of this?”
Jungkook grins, “for weeks.”
Taehyung drops his hands and looks at him fully, “Yes,” he says immediately. “God. Yes. I thought we would never ask each other and i will never have this ring ”
Jungkook’s smile softens, devastatingly tender, “I will always be on my way to find you…” he hums in tune to the song. Their song.
He slides the ring onto Taehyung’s finger. It fits perfectly. Taehyung looks at it. Then at Jungkook. Then he launches himself forward, knocking Jungkook slightly off-balance as he kisses him again, laughter and joy spilling everywhere.
They end up pressed together tangled, the mistletoe witnessing everything.
Later, they sit on the floor, backs against the couch, cocoa steaming between them, Taehyung’s hand resting conspicuously on Jungkook’s knee so he can keep staring at the ring.
“This was a lot,” Taehyung says contentedly.
Jungkook hums. “Absolutely worth it.”
Taehyung leans over, kisses him softly. “Merry Christmas, fiancé.”
Jungkook beams. “Merry Christmas to you too, fiancé.”