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daechwitatamic · 2 years

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Trip || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Trip || a KTH one-shot by daechwitatamic (masterlist)

Pairing: KTH x female reader, JJK x OC, JHS x OC

Genre: f2l, fluff, camping!au

WC: 22k

Rating: M - minors DNI

Summary: Your gigantic crush on Kim Taehyung is so bad that you drop whatever you’re holding every time he speaks to you. Your dirty liar of a best friend SWORE to you he wouldn’t be on this camping trip, but he is. Luckily, the trip gives Taehyung the chance to see you in a new light, admittedly with some help from his best friend (and definitely hired spy) Park Jimin.

Warnings: socially awkward oc, introverted oc, a few injuries including a bad sprain and a deep cut that will require stitches – some scenes of basic first aid as these are handled and there is blood involved, cursing, drinking, kissing, groping, breast play, like two seconds of grinding, a disgusting amount of soft affectionate feelings

Notes: This is for @/thebtswritersclub Summer Project, for the “camping/hiking” prompt. I hope y’all enjoy! Thank you to the Mods who organized the event!

Huge thank you to @/kookstempo for beta-ing, for helping me choose snippets, and for dealing with my bible-book summary process. Another thank you to @/cherrysoulth for the beta job, much appreciated!

I did, in fact, steal the Douchebag Jar from The New Girl, so if you work for them, don’t sue me, just enjoy the kpop fanfiction that I make zero dollars from. I also stole “chaos gremlin” specifically as a direct description of Park Jimin from @/m-yg93, so, hey, thanks for the apt description.

“Hey, so… I know last week I said he wasn’t… but apparently, Taehyung is coming on this trip.”

You almost drive off the highway.

After you correct your car - the back seat of which is laden with backpacks, coolers, tents, camping chairs, and other gear – you shoot your best friend a look. She smiles at you sheepishly from the passenger seat. There are lakes as far as you can see on either side of the highway, water glinting silver under a mid-afternoon sun, the highway slicing between them like a snake through a puddle.

“How long have you known that?” you ask her suspiciously. You wouldn’t be surprised if she’d known the whole time and had just lied to you when she first asked you to attend a camping trip with her boyfriend and his friends. She knew you wouldn’t have agreed if you knew Taehyung would be there.

He makes you too nervous. You just can’t enjoy yourself when he’s at events. And honestly, you’d thought a camping trip would be safe. Taehyung’s charming and really fucking hot, but he seems a bit pampered to you. You can’t really imagine him roughing it.

Not that you’re all really roughing it – the campsite is the kind with bathrooms you can walk to that have showers and real toilets, even though you have to walk a bit to get to them.

“I just found out this morning,” she tells you earnestly. “I promise. I know that you’re doing me a favor by coming along – I promise I wouldn’t do anything to make this suck for you. Not on purpose.”

It’s true. Delia’s only been dating Jungkook for about four months. Lately, they’ve been getting a lot more serious, but there’s still a lot of firsts that they’re going through, and going away together (with his group of friends, no less) is definitely a first. She’d begged you to come for moral support, even though you – like Taehyung – are pampered. The flushing toilets had been one of your conditions. This is also why she’s in your car keeping you company instead of in the car with Jungkook, even though you know Hoseok is bringing his girlfriend and they are most definitely sharing a car.

You resist the urge to press your head to the top of the steering wheel in distress.

“Del,” you say, and stop. You don’t even know where the rest of the sentence wants to go. Your stomach is churning.

Delia presses her lips together, giving you a deeply sympathetic look. She knows well that you’ve been crushing on Taehyung since the first time you met him – the same night Delia and Jungkook hooked up for the first time.

She also knows it’s a crush that renders you stupid – suddenly clumsy, unable to form full thoughts or coherent sentences, all logic leaving your body with the air from your lungs every time he smiles anywhere near your vicinity.

(“Girl, stop tripping,” she’d tell you. “He’s a nice, normal guy! You need to get it together!”)

It’s bad.

She’s told you before she’s never seen you like this, and you always tell her it’s because you’ve never been like this. And you’ve never even been alone with him, never had a serious conversation. Your inability to be normal around him is literally just from what you’ve observed about him in group settings. Imagine if you actually had, like, depth in your conversations? You’d have to board the nearest rocket to the damn moon.

It's so embarrassing.

But as beautiful as Taehyung is – as effortlessly charming, and secretly clever, and slyly funny – he’s also unattainable. Or, at least, it feels that way when you join Delia to hang out with Jungkook’s crew. Taehyung’s never been unkind to you – in fact, he never acts aloof. He’s friendly and welcoming – they all have been, every time. But there’s something about him that makes you think he’s hard to really know, like there are parts of himself that he keeps close. You also can’t help but feel like he must be out of your league with a face like that; not that you’re insecure – you’re not – it’s just that he’s hotter than almost everybody on the planet.

You also know – from Delia, who heard from Jungkook, who heard from Jimin – that he went through a pretty rough breakup about three months ago.

Anyway. It doesn’t matter. He’s cool, and beautiful, and you… can barely even function as yourself when he’s around. It just doesn’t make sense to pursue it. You’ve tried to avoid joining Delia to hang out with the guys if you know he’ll be there, preferring to hang out with Delia and Jungkook when they’re with Jimin, or Seokjin.

It just feels simpler that way.

“It’ll be okay,” Delia tells you, tapping her phone against the top of her leg. “It’s a big group going, he’ll be easy to avoid.”

You do your best to level a stare at her without taking your eyes completely off the road.

“Del,” you say flatly. “We’re spending three nights in the woods together. There is nothing to do but sit around and talk to each other. You know what’s going to happen. I’m going to look fucking stupid the whole time.”

“You won’t,” she says, flapping a hand, like she herself hasn’t witnessed you absolutely malfunction in Taehyung’s presence several times.

“Don’t lie to me,” you grumble, looking back at the road ahead of you.

She pats your leg amicably, and you spend some time in companionable quiet as the dark forests rush by outside the car’s windows.

It’s late afternoon when you arrive, pulling up to the little wooden booth where you check in. The girl inside, in a khaki uniform, goes over the campground’s rules and directs you to the two adjoined campsites that the boys had booked online.

It’s clear that you’re the last to arrive. Three cars are parked at the sites, and there’s already two tents erected.

As you park, Jungkook makes his way over, waiting to greet Delia with an arm around her shoulders and a press of lips to the top of her head. She beams, glows, all that shit. You busy yourself by starting to unpack the trunk and the backseat, starting with the cooler.

“Let me help with that,” says a deep voice behind you, and you drop the end of the cooler you had been pulling out of the car. It starts to slip to the ground, and you scramble to catch it. A second pair of hands steadies it with you, veins prominent.

“Thanks you. I mean, thank you. Thanks. Sorry,” you mutter, your words tripping over one another, your eyes on the ground. On the other side of the car, Delia is literally covering her face with her hand, shaking her head. You feel like your face is on fire.

Jungkook comes around the car to rescue you from yourself, taking one handle of the cooler and helping Taehyung carry it over to the picnic table where the food will be stored.

“Jesus,” Delia says, materializing next to you.

“I’m going home,” you deadpan. You feel shell-shocked, you can’t even process what a disaster you are. You didn’t even make it twenty seconds without embarrassing yourself.

She rubs the top of your back bracingly, as if you tell you to buck up. Face still flaming, you work on untangling the tent from the camping chairs, carrying it over to the empty spot.

“We have one more tent to go up there,” Jungkook calls to you. “We’re putting two tents on each campsite.”

“Okay,” you tell him. “I wasn’t going to set it up yet, so we can figure it out.”

The boys start working on the last two tents while you and Delia finish emptying out your car. The third girl in attendance, Hoseok’s girlfriend, wanders over and introduces herself as Suz, and offers to help organize everything as you unload chairs and food, beer and bug spray.

Between the seven guys, it doesn’t take long to set up the two remaining tents, spacing them evenly across the campsite so that all four tents make a horseshoe around the fire and the picnic tables. You and Delia start setting up the camping chairs around the fire. At the picnic table, Yoongi’s opened the first case of beer. His can opens with a hiss, and you watch several heads turn in that direction.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, already moving to grab two.

“Great decision making,” Jimin praises, hopping over a cooler as he makes his way over.

“As expected of our appointed Campsite Leader,” Taehyung says, but you notice that he doesn’t go for a beer. He already has a plastic cup in his hand; you wonder if he’s not a beer guy.

“I deeply do not want to be Campsite Leader,” Yoongi protests after taking a swig of his beer. “Make Joon do it.”

“Joon?” The three youngest guys speak almost in unison. The tall man in question flushes, laughing a little with self-deprecation.

“I think you misunderstand,” Jimin says, pulling the tab on his own can. “We’re trying not to die this weekend.”

Hoseok’s girlfriend, Suz, looks up in alarm from the camping chair she’s claimed.

“Nobody’s going to die,” Hoseok assures her, smiling lightly.

Delia groans loudly. “Now you’ve jinxed it,” she tells Hoseok, tone scolding.

For a while everyone just chills. Jimin hooks up a Bluetooth speaker and music plays beneath the steady flow of conversation. Hoseok, Suz, Taehyung, and Namjoon walk down to the lake “just to check it out”. With Taehyung gone from the campsite, you relax, settling into your folding camping chair and releasing a deep breath.

You’re startled when something cold touches your hand; looking around, you see that Delia is trying to pass you a beer.

“Bless you,” you tell her.

“You need it,” she says, giving you a look that would piss you off if it came from literally anyone else on the planet. “You’ve got to relax. He’s just a normal person. You have to act like it.”

“Shut up, please,” you tell her through a fake smile hiding gritted teeth. You’re very aware of how close to earshot Jimin is.

“I’m just saying,” she says, wandering back to Jungkook’s waiting lap.

“Well stop,” you grumble, open the beer she’d handed you.

Yoongi and Seokjin seem to be heading up grilling for dinner, huddled around the fire with tongs. Jungkook watches them even as he talks quietly with Delia, who perches on his lap happily. This leaves you with no one to talk to except Jimin, so you do, hoping he didn’t hear Delia’s big mouth.

“Have you guys done this before?” you ask him.

He turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in question as he processes what you asked.

“Oh,” he says. “No, not really. I think a few of these guys have – definitely Jungkook – but not as a group like this.”

“Should be fun,” you muse. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Morning hike, I think?” Seokjin answers you from across the fire, where he’s opening a package of meat to grill. Beside him, Yoongi clicks the tongs absentmindedly, his eyes far away. “They were going to do the Red trail.”

“Isn’t that the hard one?” Delia asks, stopping rubbing noses with Jungkook long enough to re-enter the conversation.

Yoongi comes back to planet earth and tells her, “It’s the more challenging of the two we picked, yeah. But it’s not hard.”

“We thought we should save the easier one for the last day,” Jungkook explains, leaning around Delia to look at you. “We’ll be tired by then.”

“Define ‘not hard,’” you request dryly. “Some of us aren’t gym rats.” You cast an accusatory look at Jungkook.

“I’m opting out,” Seokjin tells you as an answer. “I’ll do the Blue trail with everyone the day after, but no thanks to the Red trail.”

“It’s really not hard, he’s being a baby,” Yoongi assures you. “It’s actually a shorter distance than the Blue trail, it’s just that it’s steeper.”

“There are some sections that are kind of rocky,” Jungkook tells you. “Make sure you wear shoes with good tread.”

“Got it,” you say, nodding. You have decent hiking boots; you’ll be fine.

By the time the crew that went to the lake wander back into sight, you’ve absently finished your first beer. You toss the can to Jimin, who’s closest to the bag you’ve all designated for empties. He also takes the liberty of fishing a fresh one out of the cooler and tossing it back to you – right as Taehyung gets close enough to call, “Is dinner ready?”

You drop the beer in the dirt.

Jimin grimaces and you close your eyes with a sigh, and then lean down to retrieve the can, wiping dirt off the top with the hem of your shirt.

“The meat’s done,” Jin answers Taehyung’s question as the group file back into camp. “What do we want to do for sides?”

You go quiet as the group discusses. You’re the least picky eater you know, so you can’t really add to the conversation. You’ll be happy with whatever they come up with. You sit quietly, sipping your beer, looking around at the group and listening.

Taehyung slips into the chair next to Jimin and starts talking to him quietly about the lake – you gather from the conversation that they want to take the canoes (which are still atop two of the parked cars at the campsite) out tomorrow or the next day. Suz snuggles on the chair with Hoseok, mirroring Delia and Jungkook on the opposite side. Namjoon plops into an empty chair and asks you, “Do you hike much?”

“Much, no,” you admit. “Maybe once or twice a year. And I’ve never been here before. It’s really pretty.”

“The views from the top are wild,” he tells you. “That’s why we picked the Red trail – it’s tougher, but it’s worth it from the top.”

“I can’t wait,” you tell him. You’re very aware of Taehyung’s eyes on you from somewhere in your periphery.

When the food is agreed upon and fixed up, everyone takes turns rising to get what they want. As you all settle back into your chairs to eat, conversation dies down to nothing. You can hear the scrapes of forks against the paper plates, birds calling down by the water, the shouts of some kids staying at a campsite that must be just out of sight.

After eating and cleaning up, you decide to walk down to the lake since you haven’t seen it yet.

“If you go straight that way,” Taehyung tells you, using his whole arm to point, “you’ll meet up with a dirt path that leads right down to the beach. You literally can’t miss it.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tell him with a small smile. “But thanks.”

“I can go and make sure you don’t get lost,” he offers, voice light.

“No,” you shake your head. “You already went, that’d be silly. I’ll be fine by myself.”

Delia kicks you as you walk by, and you refuse to look. You can translate the kick perfectly – it means “oh my god he offered to go with you.”

To which you’d reply, if you were speaking, “It doesn’t mean anything, he’s just being nice.”

You head in the direction that Taehyung had pointed out, passing several other campsites on your way, including the one with the yelling kids. There are about six of them, various ages, playing some very brutal form of freeze tag. There is tackling involved. With a small smile, you carry on.

Past two more campsites, both with older couples tending to their campfires, you find the dirt path as promised. It leads you past a Rangers’ station, as well as the shower and bathroom buildings, which you mentally file away for later. They’ll be harder to find in the dark, you figure.

It’s not much longer before the path slopes dramatically, leading down to the beach, grass gradually giving way to sand. There are a few people walking along the beach, but no one in the water. You find a spot that seems out of the way and sit, sand soft between your toes.

Out across the water, the sun is dipping low, almost completely out of view. Its reflection dances and shimmers and you let yourself sit there feeling still and peaceful. Delia’s one of your favorite people, and you like Jungkook a lot for her, and his friends have always been so nice, but sometimes it’s hard for you to be “on” with a group of people for a long time. You take this time, watching the sun disappear inch by golden inch, to recharge in the silence.

Eventually the golden hour fades to blue. You watch the sky grow darker and darker, stars coming out one by one, each time you blink another four appearing. You’re about to rise and head back before it gets dark dark when you hear familiar voices behind you. It’s Del and Jungkook, coming down the path hand-in-hand.

“We were sent to rescue you,” Delia informs you with a grin.

“I need to be rescued?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you brush sand off of your butt and thighs.

“Taehyung certainly thought so,” she says suggestively.

“What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. You don’t love that these conversations happen in front of Jungkook, but you’ve accepted that what Delia knows, he knows too.

As far as you know, he’s kept his mouth shut.

She shrugs innocently. “He was very concerned about you down here by yourself, that’s all.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “He was not very concerned,” he counters. “He just mentioned that it’s dark now and it might be tricky finding the way back alone.”

You say nothing, leading the way back up the path. It is different in the dark, but you would have been fine.

You can hear your campsite before you can see it – Hoseok’s laughter carries across the night, harmonizing with Suz’s sharp giggle. You can hear Jimin’s voice, but you can’t make out what he’s saying, only that he sounds defensive. Below that, you can hear the quiet chords of a guitar.

It’s clear as you approach that the mood has shifted at camp. Liquor bottles, juice, and soda have been placed on the picnic table next to plastic cups. Yoongi, looking a little red in the face, leans over his guitar with a look of avid concentration. Seokjin is laying on his back across one of the picnic benches, looking sideways to argue heatedly with Taehyung about god-knows-what as Jimin laughs heartily, one hand on his aching stomach muscles.

“You found her!” Namjoon says, smiling.

“I wasn’t lost,” you assert. “I knew exactly where I was.”

“We thought you’d come back when it got dark,” Suz says, her dark eyes wide. “I wouldn’t want to be down there alone.”

“I kind of liked it,” you admit. “I like the part of dusk when it’s like… every time you look away and then look back, there are more stars than there were a second ago? We don’t really get to see that at home.”

“That’s true we don’t,” Namjoon muses. You head to the picnic table to mix yourself a drink; judging by the glassiness of Jimin’s eyes and the loose chuckle Hoseok is emitting, you have some catching up to do. Delia sidles up next to you to make her own drink and she gives you a loving hip-bump that makes you giggle.

“Careful, you’ll spill the vodka,” you warn her.

“No spilling vodka!” Taehyung calls from across the circle, overhearing this. “That shit was expensive!”

“See?” you say to Delia. “This is expensive vodka and you can’t spill it.”

As you finish making your drink, you’re aware of a pair of eyes watching you from the other side of the crackling fire. You try to ignore this piercing gaze, sip at your drink to make sure you made it right, and find an empty chair around the fire to claim. Even once you’re seated, you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. You try to avoid eye contact, watching the ice cubes float around the top of your mixed drink, twinkling as they reflect the firelight.

When you think it’s safe, you flick your gaze in his direction. He’s finally turned, talking to Jungkook. The firelight dances on his face, showing his sharp jawline, the structure of his cheekbones, before casting him in darkness once again.

After a while, Delia comes to sit by you, leaning against your shoulder. His arms and lap now free, Jungkook also unpacks a guitar from the car, and he and Yoongi play together, riffing and vibing. You lean back against Delia and close your eyes, content to listen.

“We should figure out the sleeping arrangement,” Namjoon says from the chair next to you, and you and Delia both turn to look at him. He’d been so quiet, you’d forgotten he was sitting there.

“Honestly,” Taehyung says, his voice flat and a little sour, “I vote to give the couples their own tents. We have the space. And no one wants to see that.”

Everyone does some mental math at that.

“It’s going to be two tents of three and two tents of two regardless,” Hoseok reasons. He sounds like he’s trying to come off like he doesn’t care either way, but it’s obvious he wants a private tent for himself and Suz.

Delia turns to look at you, guilt etched on her face. You had kind of thought the two of you would share a tent. It had somehow not occurred to you that she might want to snuggle with her boyfriend. And Taehyung’s exactly right – you don’t want to share a tent with her and Jungkook: those two can’t keep their hands to themselves for a minute.

So your options seem to be: tent with Delia, tent with Delia and Jungkook and get a free show, or tent with two of Jungkook’s friends that you don’t know super well.

Cool.

Delia is giving you puppy-dog eyes now. “I’m sorry,” she whines. “Can I puh-lease do a tent with Kookie?”

“You want to put me in a tent with two of these guys,” you clarify flatly.

A chorus of objections rises from around the circle.

“We are very nice,” Seokjin asserts, brows furrowed.

“You should be honored to listen to Namjoon snore all night,” Taehyung tells you, also trying to look severe, but his lips twitch.

“I am wounded,” Namjoon says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“You can join ours,” Jimin tells you quietly. While everyone else hurries to tease you, he seems to sense that you’re having some actual trepidation about the plan. “It’s me and Tae – we’ll give you a lot of room. He always ends up snuggling with me anyway.”

“Hey!” Taehyung calls. “Way to put me on blast, dude!”

“Is it true, or is it not true?” Jimin demands, and Taehyung pointedly looks away, tipping his cup to take a drink. “Exactly.”

Del is still sticking her entire lip out, begging.

“God, fine,” you say, exasperated. “But I swear if we have to hear you-.” You let the threat go unsaid and she reaches up to squish your cheeks affectionately.

“You’re my favorite best friend ever,” she coos, your whole face squeezed between her thumb and fingers.

“Tdank youf,” you try to say.

“And I’m your favorite, too,” she says.

“Andf yer muh fay’rite tchoo,” you say.

Satisfied, she releases you.

“That was hot,” Jungkook announces.

Suz levels a finger at him. “Douchebag jar,” she demands.

“The jar isn’t here!” Jungkook protests.

Suz shakes her head. “I don’t care. Hand over the dollar, douchebag.”

Jungkook grumbles, but starts digging in his pockets.

You all spend another half hour around the fire, the guitar music slowly fading out as the boys get tired – or tipsy. Conversation loops through time as you share stories from when you were little kids (tv shows you all remember from Saturday mornings, common household dynamics, who had the scariest mom) up to your college years (first time getting properly drunk, the worst professors you’d ever had, crazy roommate stories). You’re all laughing so hard your stomach hurts, pointing at each other and shouting as you find things you have in common.

“My mom forgot me at the mall once,” Taehyung admits as he chuckles, and Jimin and Hoseok howl, doubling over in their chairs. “Literally left me in the parking lot.”

“I know this story!” Jungkook shouts between bouts of laughter. “She didn’t forget you, you got out of the car!”

The laughter doubles in volume. Taehyung’s eyes are squeezed shut as he laughs, his grin taking up half his face. Jimin pounds his knee with a fist, gasping for breath between cackles.

“My parents did forget me at the grocery store,” you pipe up. The boys take deep breaths, whining as they try to stop laughing so they can listen, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of their eyes.

Delia looks at you, eyes wide with recognition. “I remember that. You were like twelve!”

“Wow, really?” Namjoon asks. “Usually when parents forget a kid, they’re little.”

You shake your head, smiling at the ridiculous memory. “I’m one of six kids,” you explain. “My mom always did a headcount, but she forgot my sister had a friend with her. It was really my fault for getting distracted.”

“Six?” Taehyung echoes. “That’s wild. Where do you fall in the line-up?”

“Third oldest,” you tell him. “I have an older brother and an older sister, then two more younger brothers and one more little sister.”

“I could never,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “I’d lose two kids every time we went anywhere.”

“Too bad, baby,” Delia jokes. “I want ten.”

“Ten!” Jungkook shrieks, practically pushing her off of his lap. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Namjoon are sharing the second three-person tent, and it’s not much later that they take one of the lanterns and go to set up their sleeping bags. You expect them to come back to the circle when they’re situated, but when Yoongi unzips the front of the tent and emerges, he heads down the path towards the bathroom buildings instead, his toothbrush in hand. Jin follows him, and then Namjoon joins them after returning the lantern to the picnic table for someone else to use.

“Should we get ready, too?” Jimin asks. You look at Taehyung to see his response, but they’re both looking at you.

“Am I Tent Leader?” you joke, surprised. Delia groans, booing at you.

“You can be if you want to,” Jimin shrugs. “I know you’re in an uncomfortable spot having to share with us when you don’t know us that well. I just want to give you a little agency.”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, tone playful, nodding enthusiastically. “Agency. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

“You were not,” Jimin kicks at him.

“We can set up if you want,” you shrug. The boys rise, grabbing the lantern that Namjoon had left on the table, and you head to the car for your sleeping bag and overnight bag.

The boys have taken the middle and the right side of the tent, leaving you the left third. The lantern hangs from the top of the tent, casting long shadows as you all maneuver around each other as you set up. Twice, you bump into Taehyung as you both circle your areas, getting everything just right. You both mutter apologies, and once, he rests his hand lightly on your elbow, as if to steady you even though the collision had been quite gentle. You face burns and you sit heavily on your sleeping bag, digging through your overnight stuff in search of a toothbrush and some pajamas.

“Namjoon-hyung!” Jimin calls through the tent wall.

“Yeah?” Namjoon calls back from the last tent in the line.

“What time do you want to leave in the morning?”

There’s silence as Namjoon considers this. You locate your toothbrush, your pajamas, a hairbrush, and a pair of slide-on sandals. You remove your sneakers and slip these shoes on, bundling up the rest of your goodies and heading back out towards the fire, making sure to zip the tent behind you.

The circle is full of empty chairs now, the fire burning low. There are lights inside all three tents now, shadows visible as the people inside move around.

“Probably we should be on the road by seven,” Namjoon says from inside his tent, and Jimin makes a noise to indicate he heard but doesn’t love what he’s hearing.

“Del?” you call. “Or Suz? Either of you want to walk down to the bathrooms with me?”

“Oh,” Suz says, sticking her head out of her tent with Hoseok. “Yes, me, please. Will you wait while I get my stuff?”

A few minutes later, the three of you make your way down to the buildings, stepping carefully in the dark. Behind you, you can hear a few more of the guys coming.

You pee and brush your teeth, changing into your pajamas. They’re a short and t-shirt set, but the material is thin, so you opt to leave a bra on. Damn, you hate to sleep in a bra, you haven’t had to do it since college. But you just feel a little less weird about the tent situation that way.

When you return to the campsite, Yoongi is pouring sand over the top of the fire to put the rest out. Jungkook is moving his guitar case back to the back of his car, the headlights illuminating the trees in the distance. Delia waits patiently at his side, the keys in her hand.

“You got it?” you ask Yoongi as you pass by.

“Yep,” he says easily. “It’s out. All good.”

You head back into your own tent. The lantern has been removed from the top, but Taehyung’s got a gigantic flashlight turned on, and it sits in the middle of the tent with its beam aimed at the ceiling. Taehyung is inside his sleeping bag already, in the middle.

Right next to yours.

Of course.

Who needs sleep anyway, right?

You settle into your sleeping bag, staring at the blue ceiling above you. A moth flutters against the nylon fabric, wanting to escape.

You fish out your phone and check to see if you have any service. You have one tiny bar, so you try to see if you can get a text to your mom to go through, to let her know you made it safely. You probably should have done that when you’d arrived. Oops.

“So, are you excited for the mountain?” Taehyung asks, startling you so much that you drop your phone on your face, spluttering.

“Fuck, ow,” you whine, covering your smarting nose with a hand. You can hear the rustling of Taehyung’s sleeping bag that indicates that he’s moving.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice a lot closer than it was a second ago.

Taking a steadying breath against the stinging pain at the center of your face, you remove your hand. Taehyung has wormed his way out of his sleeping bag and kneels next to yours. He’s peering at you, brows furrowed with concern. He’s holding your cellphone out to you in one hand, and you reach out to take it. Your fingertips brush his, soft as moth-wings, before pulling away again.

“I’m fine,” you say, voice hushed. He’s so close to you.

The zipper of your tent suddenly slides up, and the moment – if it was a moment, and not just your overactive imagination – is broken as Jimin makes his way back inside. Taehyung goes back to his space, and you all settle in. After confirming that everyone is ready, Taehyung turns off the big flashlight, pitching you all into darkness.

You lay there, staring up, letting your eyes adjust, listening. You can hear gentle rustling outside the tent – branches in the breeze, tall grass bending with the wind, maybe even birds or bats. You can hear the low timbre of someone’s voice a few tents away – Namjoon or Yoongi, talking quietly with the other guys. You can hear the faint sounds of music – another campsite that hasn’t settled in for the night yet, though they’re thankfully pretty far away by the sounds of it. You can hear Jimin moving his feet back and forth inside his sleeping bag, the deep huff of his breath as he gets sleepy.

Closer, you can hear Taehyung breathing, soft and slow. You want to roll to look at him, to see if there’s enough light from outside that you can see his closed eyes, the slope of his nose, the pout of his pretty lips. But god forbid he could see you looking, you’d die of mortification. Instead you keep looking straight up, your breaths slowly coming to match his long inhale, his slow, whistling exhale.

Eventually, the chatter in your mind melts into gibberish, and then darkness, and you lose yourself to sleep.

When the alarm on your watch buzzes to wake you, your first coherent thought is that you must have made a mistake when you set it. Outside the tent it’s bright, but your eyes and your body are telling you it is way too early. You open one bleary eye to see that, yes, it is in fact the time you wanted to get up. You wanted to eat a little bit and pack a backpack before the hike, and you know the guys wanted to get an early start before it gets too hot.

You roll over, expecting to find yourself face to face with Taehyung. Instead, it’s clear that he abandoned his sleeping bag in the middle of the night and currently has one arm and one leg draped over top of Jimin. You smile, endeared.

You sit up as quietly as possible – though, you have a feeling you could be as noisy as you want and not wake those two – and start shifting through your big duffel bag. You find athletic leggings, a purple sports bra, a tank top, and a pair of thick socks – what you don’t want is blisters from your hiking boots halfway up the Red trail.

You gather the clothes, as well as some toiletries, and make your way out of the tent.

Seokjin and Namjoon are already up, sitting at the picnic table.

“Morning,” Namjoon calls.

“We made cowboy coffee,” Seokjin tells you. You feel a spark of excitement, but then he continues with a cheerful, “It’s terrible!”

“I guess I’ll pass, then,” you say with a little smile. “Did you use an egg?”

“Tried,” Namjoon corrects. “We tried to use an egg.”

You shake your head, still smiling. “Better luck tomorrow, cowboys.”

After getting dressed and ready down in the bathrooms, you head back to your tent to throw your stuff back in your bag. The boys are still conglomerated into one shape, but Taehyung seems to be at least partially awake now. Jimin, not so much.

“Morning,” Taehyung croaks, one eye barely open.

You can’t help your tiny smile. Who let him be so cute? “Good morning,” you tell him. “Are either of you coming on the hike? We’re leaving in about twenty minutes, if you are.”

Taehyung closes that eye again and groans loudly in protest, which in turn wakes Jimin, who whines and stretches. Still smiling, you shake your head and head back out to the picnic table, knowing you’ll need some food if you’re going to tackle a mountain today.

As you’re eating a protein bar and a yogurt, the rest of the crew wake up, filtering in and out of the tents and down to the bathrooms. Delia waves at you sleepily on her way by, and Suz a few minutes later. Taehyung shuffles past, eyes still mostly closed, hair messy. He’s followed by Jungkook and Hoseok.

When you’re done eating, you pack a backpack: water bottles, granola bars, first-aid kit, bug spray – the works.

You take two cars to get to the trailhead. Jungkook drives you, Delia, and Taehyung. Hoseok drives himself, Suz, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Seokjin, as promised, is staying at the campsite and Jimin isn’t even awake yet.

It’s slow going – Yoongi was right, it’s steep. A lot of the trail isn’t even dirt, it’s big rocks, and you’re using your hands for balance as you make your way from one to the next.

“I think you’d have an easier time without that big backpack,” Delia tells you, then teasing, “Did you think we were going overnight?”

You frown at her. “Don’t come crying to me when you run out of water and want one of my four extras. Or when you’re hungry and you want freshly sliced strawberries.”

This gets Taehyung’s attention. “You brought strawberries?”

If it had been Jungkook, or – hell – even Yoongi, you’d probably have said, “Yes, and I’ll share if you’re very nice to me today.” But it’s Taehyung, so what comes out of your mouth is just a barely audible, “Mhm!”

He graciously ignores your inability to speak, happily telling you, “Strawberries are my favorite.”

Delia comes to your rescue. “Y/N always shares, don’t worry.”

“Everything I packed is for the group,” you agree, getting yourself under control.

The group stays close together, helping one another up as the sun rises and the air grows hotter. Often, the guys will climb a new ledge and turn around to help pull you girls up. Jungkook helps you a few times, and Yoongi, and Taehyung; his fingers linger on your wrist as you lean your weight forward to help propel you up and over.

Only one of these makes your heart flutter like a fool.

You all take a break about halfway up (according to Jungkook), sitting on some rocks by the trail’s side, passing around water bottles and – yes – the tupperware full of strawberry slices.

“It’s going to feel amazing to go in the lake later,” you muse, wiping sweat from your forehead.

“Oh god, I can’t wait,” Delia agrees, closing her eyes, daydreaming of jumping into the dark water.

“I can’t wait to eat,” Jungkook counters.

“You literally said that with a mouthful of food,” Yoongi points out.

“This doesn’t count, it’s just fruit,” Jungkook says, waving a hand. “I want meat.”

The whole group titters at this, and he rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I want protein, is that better?”

“Not really,” Suz tells him lightly, still giggling.

Taehyung nudges you as he passes back the strawberries, which are gone but for a few slices. “Thanks,” he says. “Those hit the spot.”

“What else is in the magic bag?” Jungkook asks, peering over.

“Uh,” you say, unzipping the top and shifting it around to look. “Granola bars, mostly. You want a peanut one?”

He makes a grabby hand and you toss him a bar, which he catches deftly. You drink some water, enjoying the coolness of the shady spot. A guy with a dog passes you all on the trail, coming down from the top, raising a hand in friendly hello. The guys bum-rush to pet the dog.

“We should probably get moving,” Suz says after a minute of this, glancing at her watch, breaking up the dog party. “If we want to be at the top before noon.”

The rest of the way up goes much like the first half – a slow, careful pace and a lot of helping each other up and over rock ledges.

Near the top, you lose your footing. You’d braced a foot near the edge of the ledge you were trying to climb, but your foot slips and your body follows. You slide with a yelp, and someone steadies you by cupping your elbow with a firm hand, another high on your back.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he says, voice deep enough that you have to try not to shiver. The rest of the group doesn’t seem to have noticed that you two paused.

“Thanks, Taehyung,” you say, a little breathless. The slip had kicked up your adrenaline and your heart pounds in your stomach, in your fingertips, at the edges of your vision. “Shit. That scared me.”

“Go carefully,” he tells you, something firm and insistent in his tone. He climbs the ledge that you had slipped on and turns, holding out a hand to you. You take a quick breath and grab his hand, scrambling as he pulls you up to join him.

“Thanks,” you say shyly, and he gives you a grin and a salute before turning and following the group up the path.

When the trail levels out, leading from dirt path to flat rock expanse, you all rush out to see. The horizon seems forever away, hundreds of miles unfolding below you in ripples of green. The view takes your breath away, and you walk from side to side of the flat area, trying to see each angle. The rest of the group fans out, doing the same, phones coming out of pockets as everyone starts snapping pictures. The couples take some together – you act as photographer for Delia and Jungkook, as is your usual duty when third-wheeling them anywhere. You take a few of your own, trying to capture the way the foothills start as rolling hills in the distance, building in height and frequency as they near the actual mountain-range.

“Holy shit, wow,” you breathe, creeping closer to the edge, where you can see the lake. It looks literally magical from here, like every folk story you grew up on could really be true. It gives you the feeling that ancient societies, with their strong ties to the earth and its natural processes, were really the ones who got it right.

“It’s really something, right?” Taehyung asks. You’re not sure when he came up next to you – you’d been enthralled by the view, lost in your thoughts as you tried to think about how to describe the way the road cut through the trees like a ribbon, the way the lake glittered and winked in the sunlight.

“It’s so beautiful,” you say, so enraptured by the view that you forget to act like a clown in his presence.

“Let’s take a group picture!” Suz suggests, pulling out her phone. There are a few other hikers enjoying the view, and Suz has no problem getting a young couple to agree to take a picture of your group. You all congregate near the edge – but not too near. You’re painfully aware that in the bunch, Taehyung ended up to your left, and he rests his arm lightly across your shoulders. On your right, Delia wraps an arm around Jungkook’s waist and leans her head on his shoulder cutely.

“One funny one?” Suz suggests.

Delia and Suz are both climbing onto their boyfriends backs, as the rest of you try to think of poses.

“Wait!” Taehyung cries, laughing. He’s laughing so hard he can barely get the idea out. “We’re an even number! We should all do it!”

“What?” Suz asks, confused.

Jungkook’s caught on, and he starts to giggle too. “Tae, who are you offering to piggyback - Namjoon?”

Taehyung’s practically snorting now. “Absolutely not, have you seen how big he is these days?”

Yoongi’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “I’ll go on Namjoon’s back – that’ll be fucking funny.”

Everyone hurries a little, aware that a stranger is waiting for you to get situated so she can take your photo and be on her way. Taehyung turns to you, still giggling a little.

“You’re okay with going on my back, right? I guess I should have asked first,” he says, a little apologetically.

��I’m okay with it if you are,” you say with a shrug. “I’m not the one who has to lift a whole person.”

He waves a hand like it’s nothing and turns and squats so you can climb on. You hold his shoulders firmly, trying not to feel them too much, and squeeze his sides with your knees. He reaches back and hooks his hands behind your knees, giving you a little bounce to get you both comfortable and situated as he stands.

“Hurry up,” Namjoon huffs. “Yoongi’s heavy.”

The four guys decide to make faces like they’re exhausted, while those of you behind held up – including Yoongi – cheese and give peace signs out in front.

“I can’t wait to see this,” Delia giggles as you’re all lowered back to the ground. The hiker hands Suz her phone back. You all crowd around to take a look, sputtering with laughter as you take in how silly it is.

You hate that you notice how good you and Taehyung look together. You just look natural together, like you belong.

When you’re all rested and done taking pictures, Namjoon heads the group back down the way you came; the Blue trail that you’ll do tomorrow is a loop, but Red only goes up and back.

You fall into a kind of trance as you follow the pack back down. Your feet seem to move on autopilot, and you let your mind wander. You’re excited to swim when you all get back down – after eating a big lunch, of course. You wonder if the beach will be packed with families. This beach is only open to those who have paid for campsites, so hopefully it won’t be too -

A loud cry in front of you startles you back to reality. You gasp out loud as you process that Suz is on her hands and knees just below one of the ledges. She must have missed the step or tripped.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, hurrying over. Hoseok is already there too, trying to assess the damage.

Suz has tears on her face by the time you catch up. The boys have helped her roll to sit. Her palms are scraped and one of her legs is bleeding a lot from a long gash, but it’s her other ankle that she clutches. You’re slinging your backpack onto the rock in front of her without really thinking.

“Back up,” you tell everyone, and they shuffle to make room. You’ve got tons of first-aid experience from your job, and you can tell already that her cut will need stitches. But there are other concerns here, too.

“Alright, Suz, I know it hurts but you’re okay,” you tell her gently. “What hurts the worst?”

“My ankle,” she says, still holding it. “I slipped on the edge there and-.”

You tune the explanation out, eyeing her ankle – which has already started to swell – and the cut.

“Wipe your hands off as best you can and let me clean them – quickly,” you instruct. Once you’ve wiped her hands with an alcohol pad – she winces, but doesn’t complain – you give her a large square of gauze.

“Hold that on top of your cut,” you tell her, pointing to the bleeding gash. “Press hard, and don’t let up on the pressure, got it? I’ll wrap your ankle – I’m gonna have to take your shoe off.”

She follows directions, wincing again as you do what you need to do to get her ankle wrapped up in an ace bandage. Hoseok hovers behind her, face ashen, his hands on her shoulders.

“Is it broken?” he asks.

“Can you turn it in a circle?” you ask her, just to be safe, but you have a feeling it’s just sprained. She can, and you shake your head.

“Not broken,” you confirm. Of course, only an x-ray can tell for sure - and with tiny ankle bones sometimes an MRI is needed. But the range of motion is a good sign. Everyone is standing in a semi-circle around you three, exchanging anxious looks. A group of four hikers on their way up stop, inquiring if your group needs help.

“We’re okay,” you tell them over your shoulder. “We can get her back down. But thank you!”

The gauze has been pretty saturated, so you give her a fresh one and tape it into place. Honestly, the cut is what you’re the most concerned about.

“We’ll have to carry her the rest of the way down,” you tell the guys. “You should definitely take turns if you need to, and we need to be really careful about going down over the rocks.”

“You guys, I’m so sorry,” Suz moans, covering her face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung says immediately. “Let’s just get down safely, okay? No one’s upset with you.”

“Shit happens,” Jungkook adds.

“Hobi, you want first dibs?” Namjoon jokes.

The guys help Suz teeter on one foot until she’s up on Hoseok’s back. She carries her own abandoned sneaker. You remember Seokjin telling you you’d need good treads for this trail, and it’s clear she didn’t have that. You pack the first-aid kit back into your backpack and stand.

It’s much slower going the rest of the way. The group basically stops still every time the trail requires hikers to climb down a ledge, everyone helping to make sure whoever is carrying Suz makes it without incident.

It takes over twice as long to get down the mountain than it did to go up. You load into the cars – Hoseok very gingerly setting Suz in the front passenger seat – and head back to camp.

“She’s going to need stitches,” you announce to your car, as soon as the doors close. “I didn’t want to say it while we were still hiking and freak her out, but it’s seriously true. Someone needs to take her into town, like, immediately.”

“Hobi will take her,” Jungkook assures you from the driver’s seat. You relax, settling back and closing your eyes. You feel exhausted; swimming sounded so good earlier, but now that you’re all coming down from the adrenaline rush (not to mention having climbed a mountain) all you can daydream about is a nap.

Luckily, the drive back isn’t far at all. Hoseok’s car beats yours back – you have a feeling he sped the whole way, nerves acting up over his injured girlfriend. Jimin and Seokjin are at the picnic table, and it looks like Yoongi and Namjoon are filling them in on what happened. Hoseok and Suz are still in the car, talking seriously.

When Jungkook puts the car in park, you hop out, going straight to Hoseok’s door and knocking on the window so he’ll lower it.

“You need to take her into town,” you tell him seriously. He turns and gives Suz a look that says, see? Clearly, she’d been arguing that she didn’t need to go.

“Seriously, Suz,” you tell her. “That cut needs to be cleaned and you’ll probably need some stitches in it. And it wouldn’t hurt to get your ankle x-rayed. I don’t think there’s a break, but even if there’s not you might need crutches and some stronger painkillers.”

Her face crumples a little. “I don’t want to leave the trip,” she says, voice very small. “I was looking forward to this for months.”

“You can come back,” you tell her gently. Seokjin is on his way over to the car, his face serious.

“Hobi, are you going to the hospital?” he asks. Hoseok looks at Suz, face pleading. She sighs in defeat, pressing her lips together unhappily. Hoseok turns back to the window, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m going to drive her to the emergency room in town.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jin offers. “That way you don’t have to sit alone while they take her for x-rays and all that.”

“You don’t have to,” Hoseok says, but Jin waves him off, heading to the backseat.

You all crowd around the car to tell them goodbye, backing away when Hobi shifts the car into reverse.

A tentative silence falls over you.

“We need to eat,” Jungkook reminds you, breaking the solemn silence. “Should we make sandwiches?”

The sandwiches, and the chips, fruit, and cookies that accompany them, do the trick – you can feel the group perk up after a good meal. Taehyung and Jungkook show off the pictures from the top to Jimin – who seems like he hadn’t been awake long before you’d all returned. He laughs riotously at the ones of the girls and Yoongi being carried piggyback at the top. Yoongi really hammed it up, opting for a flower cup pose instead of the agreed-upon peace sign. You can’t be mad, the result is too funny.

“I don’t know about anyone else,” Yoongi announces, once his sandwich is gone, “but I need a fucking nap.”

“I was thinking about finding a place to read,” Namjoon says, eyeing the trees near you.

“I’ve been waiting all day to hit that beach,” Delia says. Reason Number 347787 that you love her so much.

“Yes,” you say emphatically. “Beach.”

“Well,” Jimin says, “you’re welcome to walk down to this beach. But Jungkook and I were talking yesterday about going cliff jumping? The place isn’t that far.”

“Is that safe?” you ask.

At the same time, Delia says, “How hard is the climb to the top? Some of us already climbed a mountain today, Park Jimin, instead of staying in bed until one in the afternoon.”

“It’s not hard,” Jungkook assures her. “I’ve gone before – it’s an easy slope up. Plus we don’t have to spend the whole time jumping – we can do it once or twice and then just swim around and relax.”

“Is it safe there?” you ask again, your question having been overlooked for his girlfriend’s.

“Oh,” he says, “yeah. I mean, I’ve gone there a lot. You have to be careful, obviously, like this is not a good drunk activity. But if you’re not being stupid, it’s safe.”

This doesn’t really placate you as much as you’d like, and your stomach stirs nervously. But at the same time, you’ve never done cliff-jumping before, and you’re not sure you’ll get the opportunity again any time soon. So, when the guys and Delia head into the tents to grab their bathing suits and towels, you do the same.

There are only five of you going, so you take one car. Jungkook is right when he promises it’s close – it’s only about a five minute drive once you’re off the campsite property. Jungkook’s phone dings as he parks, and he reads aloud the text from Jin, letting you all know that Suz is being stitched up at the moment, and her x-ray is coming next. You all agree to come check for an update in a few hours, and Jungkook leaves his phone locked in the car.

“Do you want to jump first, or swim a little first?” Jimin asks the group as you load out of the car. There are six more cars in the small, gravel parking lot, but no people near them.

“Should we get used to the water first?” Delia asks. You feel a little better to hear the nervousness in her voice; you don’t want to be the only scaredy-cat.

The body of water you’re at isn’t the same lake as the campsite, though they are close together. Instead, Jimin informs you all as you walk up the path, this is an old stone quarry.

“The water’s much deeper,” he explains. “That’s why it’s safe to jump from so high – no chance of it being too shallow.”

The water is – no joke – as black as ink. You’ve seen dark muddy water, and deep blue ocean before. You’ve never seen anything like this in your life.

Jungkook drops his towel and dives right from the rocky ground you stand on, surfacing with a splutter seconds later.

“It’s cold,” he warns, and you and Delia exchange a look.

“It won’t be so bad once we adjust to it,” she tells you.

“You have to just rip the band-aid off,” Taehyung says to both of you. “Jump in and start swimming – the sooner you’re moving, the sooner it’ll feel less like death.”

“Don’t go into sales, Tae,” Delia tells him flatly. He gives her a wink and runs towards the edge, hitting the water with a splash. Jimin follows closely behind, and they both shriek upon surfacing, making Jungkook howl with laughter.

“Oh,” you say, eyeing the boys, “I do not want to do this, suddenly.”

“Let’s jump and race to the other side,” she suggests.

“Seriously!” Jimin calls to the two of you. “Once you’re in, it’s fine!”

“Okay,” you tell her, the idea sounding like it will work. “To the other side and back?” You eye the distance – it’s not that far. The jumping area is clearly off to the left – you can hear the shouts and whoops from that direction.

She counts you down and you both take it at a run, diving in. The cold assaults you from every single direction as you hit the water, and it’s dark under there as well. You can’t help but shriek, the noise escaping you with a jet of bubbles. Once you surface, you launch to a fast front-crawl. Delia’s got a bit of a lead on you, but you don’t care – the goal is to not feel the cold anymore.

Once you get back to the boys – the race aspect pretty much forgotten – you do feel better. You push your hair out of your face and adjust your suit, treading water lightly as everyone chats and splashes.

Slowly, you all make your way in the direction of the cliffs, your pile of towels waiting for you back where you started. Once you get around the bend, it’s very clearly set up. The jump that’s clearly most popular looms above you, a line of visitors waiting for their turn showing you clearly how the trail to the top slopes gently down to where you are. Then, further down, there’s a much higher jump. No line there, but you see one young woman fly from the top, screaming with excitement until she hits the water, too far away for you to hear the splash.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Delia says, eyeing the higher cliff.

“You don’t have to,” Jungkook hurries to assure her.

“Don’t worry, Del,” Jimin says. “Us chickens can stay down here with the kids.”

“Let’s do this one first anyway,” Jungkook suggests. “It’s fun to all jump together.”

When your turn comes, you all wait for the two teenagers who jumped before you to clear out from underneath. You all link hands, jumping at the same time with shouts and squeals. You’ve got Delia on your left and Jimin on your right, and you hold them tightly.

The jump isn’t too high, and you’re airborne for what feels like only a second - quick enough for your adrenaline to sing, for a smile to light up your face, for someone to your left to let out a whoop, and then you’re surrounded by cold and dark again.

You lose Jimin, the force of the water knocking his hand from yours. You’re still clinging to Delia tightly when you surface, laughing.

You tread water and look around, doing a quick headcount. Once everyone’s visible, you all make your way to the low area where it’s easy to climb out, ready to go again.

You do this for a while; you go as a whole group a few more times, then in smaller groups or alone. Jungkook abandons you altogether to go to the high jump, but no one else joins him.

“Go with me!” Delia tells you, and you two link arms, rushing to the jump. The boys do spins and flips, getting some scattered, half-hearted applause from the people still in line.

After some time, Jungkook returns, flipping his wet bangs out of his eyes. “It’s incredible. This is kiddie hour over here, that’s a jump!”

“No,” Jimin says flatly, and swan-dives from the ledge, literally escaping the argument like a secret agent.

“I’m with Jimin,” Delia says, her voice regretful. You know she loves Jungkook’s adventurous, thrill-seeking side, and usually she’s up to tag along. It’s part of what makes them a good couple, in your opinion. But Delia’s not the strongest swimmer, and you think the water factor is what’s tripping her up today. “We’ll stay here, right?” She looks at you like she’s already counted your support.

But the thing is… you’re considering the higher jump. It was your whole reason for coming, wasn’t it - to make sure a rare opportunity doesn’t pass you by? To take advantage of a chance to be brave, to put it on paper, to collect the receipts?

“I’ll try,” you say, your voice startling even yourself. Delia’s mouth drops open, but Jungkook grins, all squished like a bunny.

“Y/N! Yes! Come on, I’ll show you the path.”’

“Bye,” you tell everyone. “If Jungkook gets me killed, please say nice things at my funeral.”

Delia shakes her head. “I’ll say you were a giant fool.”

“My Nana won’t appreciate that,” you tell her with a pointed finger, and then scurry to catch up with Jungkook.

The path up slopes more sharply than the low jump, but at least it’s just a flat path, no rocks or ledges to climb.

“Hey, Jungkook, this is safe, right?” you ask, nerves having a field day. You have so much adrenaline going, you’re almost dizzy from it. And you know it’ll be worse at the top.

“As long as you’re being careful, yeah,” he tells you. “There’s puddles along the top, so don’t run before you jump or you could slip. As long as you have a clean jump, you’ll be perfect.”

“There aren’t, like, rocks at the bottom?” you ask nervously.

He shakes his head. “It’s safe. I’ve been coming here for practically a decade.”

You believe him, but something in your nervous system must not, because your hands are trembling.

Too bad, you tell your body. That’s fine, be scared. I’m doing it anyway. I want to be able to say that I did.

Your resolve crumbles when you stand at the ledge and look down at the pitch-black water below.

“Oh,” you groan, “I don’t know about this.”

“It’ll be fine,” he tells you. “You can watch me.”

That is not going to help, you think, but you don’t argue.

“I’ll jump and I’ll come right back up to check on you,” he suggests. “If you’re still not sure, we can walk back down.”

You nod, and he sets up to jump. He lets out a series of whoops and shouts as he falls - and he falls for a bit - before the water silences him. You watch him surface, further out than he’d landed, and start swimming back to where he can climb out.

You are not sure you can make your legs move. You are not sure you won’t hit a rock on the way down, that they won’t have to helicopter in medics for you. You imagine for a second the phone call your mother will get.

A voice breaks you from this reverie - thank goodness, because it was getting bleak.

“Are you going to do it?”

You turn fast, almost slipping in the puddles Jungkook had warned you about. You throw out your hands to steady yourself, and he reaches out as if to steady you too, but doesn’t actually touch you.

You thought it was Jungkook, somehow getting back to the top in record speed. Instead, it’s Taehyung.

“Why are you up here?” you ask him, your voice still sounding a little like you’re gasping. Your adrenaline right now is seriously no joke.

He eyes the ledge behind you. “I think I want to do it. Are you going to?”

“I was,” you say, “until I got up here and started thinking about all the rocks.”

He nods. “The rocks don’t scare me,” he says, “it’s just the height. I don’t… I don’t do great with heights. My heart is pounding just from standing here and we’re not even at the edge.”

You laugh a little with relief. “You should feel mine,” you admit. “I think I might pass out?”

You both scoot just a little closer, and you look at the general spot that Jungkook had disappeared. He seemed to think it was fun.

“What if we go at the same time?” Taehyung suggests. You’re both peering over the edge, and he’s reached out a hand, his fingertips butterfly soft, just barely resting on your upper arm, as if he’s prepared to pull you back if you slip. You’re not sure he knows he’s doing it, being protective. It’s so sweet it makes you want to scream.

“What if I land on you?” you laugh nervously.

“I’ll go further down,” he says, pointing. “Plenty of room between us. We can just time it together.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “But that means I can’t chicken out,” you say with a little laugh. “Or you’ll have jumped without me and I’ll look like a dick.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding, “yes, except I also can’t chicken out or I will look like a dick. It’s honestly the only way to trick my brain into doing this. Otherwise I’m going to stand up here until Jungkook comes to save me, and that will hurt my ego.”

You laugh again. “Okay,” you say finally. You’re up here, right? You’d made the decision to do this already. You just need to have a little bit of faith that things will be okay. Sometimes you gotta jump, your Nana always told you, and this time - for the first time - it was literal.

You can’t wait to tell her about this later.

You both set up, Taehyung moving a good seven feet to your right.

“Ready, beautiful?” he asks, looking sideways at you, and you almost fall off the fucking cliff. Beautiful?

Whatever your face does in response to this, he ignores it, beginning to count down - “Three…. two… one!”

No time to think about it, no time to second-guess, no time to scramble backwards and cling to a tree: you have to jump.

The feeling is insane - nothing beneath your feet, your stomach flying up to your throat; on your right, Taehyung shouts. Your feet pedal in the air on instinct, and then you slam into the water.

It hurts a little, honestly, and you have to tug your bathing suit bottoms out of your ass before you start pulling and kicking your way back to the surface. When you break out on the top, sucking in a large breath, you find Taehyung treading near you.

“That was wild,” he grins, shaking his head, his wet hair almost covering his eyes.

“Beautiful?” you repeat, your voice a little shrill.

He laughs, a deep belly-laugh, his smile crinkling his face. “Want to go again?” he asks, side-stepping your small meltdown.

This sobers you a little. “I do,” you admit. Now that you’ve done it once, it’s way less scary. You feel pretty confident you won’t leave here on a backboard.

You both swim to the area you can climb out; someone, at some point, installed metal rungs into the rock, like a ladder.

“Careful,” Taehyung warns you, “you’ll slide like crazy on these.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, slowly working your way up. Taehyung treads in the water behind you, waiting his turn, and you hope he’s enjoying the great view of your ass as you climb. Since you’re beautiful today and all.

He climbs out behind you and pushes his wet hair back, out of his face, which renders you speechless again, the cockiness leaving your body in an instant. You vow not to speak as you start up the path to the top, knowing you’ll trip over your words if you try right now.

“Hey,” he says. “I wanted to say… you were really cool earlier today.”

“I was - what?”

He grins again, like he finds your spluttering so endearing. “With Suz,” he explains. “You just… I don’t know, you just took charge and got everything sorted. It was really cool.”

You don’t know how to respond to this; you can feel your face heat up even though the rest of you is shivering from the quarry water.

“Thanks,” you mumble, eyes on the path.

He laughs a little. “It was like seeing a whole different side of you,” he says. “Normally you’re like… well, like this, all shy.”

“I’m not shy,” you lie, like a liar.

“You seem shy,” he counters playfully. “But I’ve been informed by some secret spies that when I leave you’re much chattier. Care to weigh in on that?”

“What is this, an interrogation?” you demand. “What spies? I’ll kill Jeon Jungkook, I swear to God -.”

He laughs again, a repetitive giggle that has him sucking for breath between each gleeful noise. “It wasn’t Jungkook. But I may have been informed by a little birdie that I make you nervous.”

“Oh, my god,” you utter, absolutely humiliated. Jimin? Had to be Jimin if it wasn’t Jungkook. He had overheard Delia talking to you at the campsite last night. He’s dead. He should have remembered that you’re sleeping in the same tent later. You will absolutely have revenge.

“Can I ask… why?” Taehyung presses, something gentle in his voice, and you realize belatedly that maybe his feelings are a little hurt. This makes you feel kind of bad, and you decide with a sigh that you probably owe him some honesty at this point. You’ve already embarrassed yourself roughly six hundred and fifty two times in the past two months… can you really make it any worse? Might as well go all-in.

“I mean. Look at you?” You laugh; Taehyung does not.

“That doesn’t mean anything though,” he says, and he sounds… disappointed. “I could look… I could look like anything but still be, like, a bad person. Or problematic, or mean, or boring. What I look like isn’t me.”

Something in your chest twinges, and you hurry to do damage control.

“No, I know that,” you assure him. He probably thinks you’re fucking shallow, now. “Believe me, I know that. It’s just that… I’ve also been around you enough to know you’re not - mean, bad, anything like that. Definitely not boring.”

“So, what am I?” he challenges. You’ve reached the top again, and you both stand, suddenly too involved in this tension-filled back-and-forth to care about jumping.

“Nice?” you suggest. “Silly? Creative?”

He scoffs, giving a playful eye-roll, the tension starting to diffuse a little. If you’d offended him or upset him, it seems like he’s starting to let you off the hook. “I’m not always nice.”

“You’re nice to me,” you point out.

“I am nice to you,” he agrees lightly, eyes twinkling.

“Who aren’t you nice to?” you tease.

“People who kick puppies. People who chew with their mouths open. People who spoil movie endings. That kind of thing.”

You laugh, and he grins at you.

“What else?” he asks, still teasing, but his tone is lower, his voice deepening. Your body reacts with a shudder that you hope you can blame on the chilly water clinging to your body, dripping from your hair. Heat blooms low in your belly and you force yourself to ignore it and focus.

“What is this, Taehyung’s Compliment Hour?” you complain.

“You have enough material to fill an hour?” He cocks an eyebrow. “I’m flattered.”

You laugh despite yourself. “Douchebag Jar,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“That thing is going to overflow before we go home,” he says.

“Yeah, and it will single-handedly be from you and Jungkook.”

He laughs again at this, and then gives you a look that you can’t really decipher.

“So you’re weird around me because I’m nice?” he says. “Just trying to understand.”

You almost jump from the cliff just to avoid this embarrassment. “I’m not weird around you,” you grumble.

He gives you a look.

You shuffle your feet, eye the water, squirm under his waiting gaze. “We established that already,” you finally give, and he cracks a small smile.

“Well for what it’s worth,” he says, turning to finally head closer to the edge, “I think you’re nice, too.”

A noise behind you startles you and you turn to see Jungkook jogging up the path.

“Hey!” he calls. “Glad I caught you. I just checked the time and I think we should head back to the car to see if there’s an update on Suz.”

“Okay,” Taehyung says easily. “One more jump?”

“We have to get down there somehow,” you agree.

The three of you line up - spaced far enough apart to not land on each other - and get ready to jump. Jungkook is in the middle, but you find yourself leaning to see past him, to catch Taehyung’s eye as you ask, “Together?”

He nods. “Together.”

The adrenaline of the jump, the feeling of falling, the bracing cold - none of them hold a candle to the feeling you get, like lightning straight through your heart, when he smiles at you as he says this.

Back at the car, you all stand shivering and chattering, wrapped in your towels as Jungkook checks his phone.

“They’re waiting for the x-ray results,” he tells you, reading the screen. “It should be soon.”

“Let’s head back,” Delia says decisively. “I want to shower while it’s still light out.”

“Yes,” you agree - you hadn’t thought about this, and you’re glad she has. “Me too.”

You all dry off as best you can before climbing back into Jungkook’s car. The drive back to camp takes only minutes, which is lucky because your leg is pressed against Taehyung’s leg, your elbow against his elbow, and you’re cold from the lake and his body is radiating heat, and that’s only one of two reasons you want to absolutely climb in his fucking lap. You’re saved from yourself as the car pulls into the space at your campsite.

What had that you’re nice too meant? Was that Taehyung-language for I like you too?

When Jungkook parks and you climb out, Yoongi and Namjoon turn to look at you. True to their word before you’d left earlier, Yoongi’s hair looks like he definitely just got up, and Namjoon is still holding the book he was reading, his finger in between the pages to save his spot.

“How was it?” Namjoon asks as you get closer.

“Incredible,” you say, even though the question had been geared more to the guys. “Incredible.”

You head to the tent to grab your shampoo and other toiletries for the showers and meet Delia back outside her tent.

“The water in there better get hot,” she grumbles as she zips her and Jungkook’s tent back up. “I’m fucking freezing.”

There are four shower stalls, so you take two right next to each other. You close the curtain and set your items down on the bench, organizing what you need now and what you need when you get out.

As the water heats up and as you shampoo, you chat over the wall with your best friend, filling her in on what happened at the lake.

“Oh my god,” she says. “Wow, so he basically admitted he’s into you!”

“Did he?” you ask. “Did he really, though?”

“Yes,” she says firmly, and you can hear her squirt shampoo or conditioner onto her palm. “You had me at the beautiful thing - that’s classic Taehyung, he was absolutely letting you know. Wow, I wish I could have witnessed it. I haven’t seen Taehyung turn it on to flirt with someone since before - you know. His ex.”

You frown. You’d forgotten that when Delia and Jungkook got together four months ago, Taehyung was still in a relationship. She hadn’t been there the night you’d met him - the night Delia met Jungkook. But Delia had been around them as a couple a few times in that first month with Jungkook - Jungkook’s relationship with her blossoming right as Taehyung’s was crashing and burning.

Full of doubt, you go quiet. After a minute, she says your name quietly, and then once more - insistently - when you don’t answer.

“Yeah,” you say flatly, so she’ll shut up.

“I’m telling you,” she says, as she turns the water off on her side of the wall. “He doesn’t just do stuff like that unless he means it. Okay?”

“Yeah,” you repeat, reaching for your towel. “I hear you.”

When you two return to camp, you’re informed that some decisions have been made in your absence.

“So I just hung up with Hobi,” Jungkook tells Delia, and you listen intently. “Suz is determined to come back tonight and finish the trip. Hobi and Jin both think she’ll change her mind as her pain meds wear off a little.”

“What does that mean?” Delia asks flatly.

Jungkook explains. “Her ankle isn’t broken but the sprain is bad. She’s on crutches, and she’s on some pain-killers - and antibiotics for the cut, too. Hobi thinks she’s going to end up wanting to go home - what fun can she have camping on crutches, and in pain?”

“That sucks,” you say sympathetically. You’d liked Suz, you were hoping she’d be back.

“It does,” Jungkook agrees. You notice that most of the guys are absent - you wonder if they’re all down in the mens’ showers. “Anyway, we were thinking we’d meet them all in town for dinner at a restaurant? That way she can eat with us more comfortably and she can make her decision from there.”

“Nowhere fancy,” Delia asserts. “I don’t have a curling iron here.”

“Sure, sure,” Jungkook says distractedly, eyes on his phone screen. “None of these places are that nice anyway.”

The drive into town is quite a bit longer than the drive to the quarry. Luckily - or maybe unluckily, you can’t decide - you end up in the car with only Jungkook, Delia, and Jimin; Taehyung hopped in with Namjoon and Yoongi.

“You,” you greet Jimin with narrowed eyes. His eyebrows rise as he clearly tries to remember what he’s done to piss you off. “What did you say to Taehyung?”

Delia turns all the way around in her seat to watch the carnage.

Jimin laughs nervously. “Oh, that,” he says.

“Yes, that,” you snarl. “I know where you sleep, Park Jimin! One sleeping bag over from me!”

“Okay okay okay-,” he says, hands up, like he might have to actually protect his face from you, “but hear me out!”

“Yeah, you’d better have an excuse!” you yell. Delia cackles.

“He started the conversation!” Jimin explains. “He said something to me about how you get all - y’know -.”

He’s too polite to say whatever descriptor he thinks fits the spot.

“So you said what, exactly?” you ask him with narrowed eyes.

“I was sticking up for you!” he cries. “All I said was that when he’s not around, you’re very fun and normal!”

Your eyes go wide. “Did you use the word ‘normal’?”

He seems to look left and right for a nonexistent escape route. “Okay, but! Y/N! He likes you and he was feeling like you didn’t like him because you wouldn’t talk when he was around! I was helping!”

This makes you go still. Delia slaps repeatedly at your knees in excitement. “He what?” you ask, your voice echoing in your ears. “Really?”

“I told you!” Delia squeals. “You didn’t believe me!”

“Yours was a projecture!” you protest. “I need cold, hard facts!”

Jungkook groans, rolling his eyes. “God, it’s like seventh grade in here. You like each other! Fucking do something about it!”

“No need to curse at me,” you mutter, but you turn away from Jimin, deciding he gets to live. For now.

The restaurant is casual, thank goodness, and the trio that came from town have already procured a table. Your car gets there first thanks to Jeon Lead-Foot Jungkook, and you choose seats.

“How are you feeling?” you ask Suz right away. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“I feel great,” she laughs. “Whatever pain-killer they gave me was-.” She uses her fingers to make a chef’s kiss.

“Yeah, she’s a little high right now,” Hoseok tells you all quietly. “Extra strength Tylenol from here on out, babe.”

The group from Namjoon’s car files in, and it surprises you not at all when Taehyung slides into the empty space beside you, giving you an easy smile.

“Did we miss anything?” he asks.

“Just that Suz is feeling those pain meds,” Jungkook supplies.

The waitress comes by and takes everyone’s drink order before sweeping away again, off to her next table. You and Delia take bets on whose cocktail will be more brightly colored (it’s hers - bright blue). The atmosphere is relaxed, the lamps glowing orange above the table, the chatter around the restaurant a comfortable background noise. Your drinks come and you order food.

“So,” Delia says to the whole table, over the top of her very blue drink, “you all know how hot I find it when Jungkook boxes, right?”

“We are painfully aware,” you tell her.

“Too aware. Please stop telling us,” Taehyung deadpans.

Jungkook covers his face with a hand, already knowing where his girlfriend’s story is going. It’s clear by the grin on her face that she’s been waiting to tell this story at his expense.

“Well the other night,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect, “he literally started boxing in his sleep. Like, three in the morning, we’re both dead asleep, and he starts punching my shoulder like I was the punching bag.”

Everyone cracks up, and Jungkook starts spluttering in protest, trying to defend himself.

“This is a fun game,” Suz says. “What’s the weirdest - nonsexual - thing you’ve ever had a partner do in their sleep?”

You all think hard, chuckles and giggles floating around the table as you consider options.

“My ex talked in her sleep, you’ve all heard those stories,” Namjoon starts. “She’d straight up give lectures in her sleep. It’d be the middle of the night and she’d be reciting archaeology facts. Sometimes I’d google what she was talking about - it was always true! She knew her shit.”

You all laugh at that, and you pipe up, “I had that, too. A guy I was… seeing… he’d talk in his sleep and if I answered him, sometimes he’d keep the conversation going. It was so fucking funny. One time he told me in his sleep that I had to fix my Pokemon stance.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jimin asks, covering his giggles with a hand.

“Like, how you stand when you throw the ball, I think?” you giggle.

“What was wrong with your stance?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows raised.

“I asked him that!” you say, pointing at him in appreciation for asking the Important Questions. “I asked what’s wrong with my stance and he told me - still in his sleep! - that my toes were too pointed.”

Everyone’s laughing, but Taehyung shakes his head through his chuckles. “There’s no way. There’s no way that happened.”

“I wrote it in a note on my phone so I’d never forget!” you tell him, laughing so hard now that it’s hard to breathe. “I swear, I have it written down word for word!”

“I win this one, hands down,” Hoseok says, “and the culprit is right here.”

“Oh my God,” Suz laments. “Don’t tell that one, it’s so embarrassing!”

“This game was your idea,” Hoseok reminds her, grinning. “Those in glass houses should not throw stones.”

“Now you have to tell us,” Yoongi says, swirling his drink in his glass.

“Okay,” Hoseok says, gleeful, as Suz shakes her head, laughing. “So it was the middle of the night, we’re fast asleep, and suddenly this sweet girl next to me screams ‘fuck!’ - like something is wrong, like she’s scared, and she leaps out of the bed.”

“I hate you,” Suz groans, covering her face.

“I, of course, turn on the light and also jump out of bed, because obviously something is trying to kill us,” Hoseok continues, ignoring her, giggling through every word. “And I’m frantically asking her - what’s wrong, what’s wrong, what happened?”

Everyone’s giggling a little in anticipation as he builds the story.

“So then!” he continues dramatically. “She tells me something bit her - so I’m thinking there’s a spider in the bed and we both start, like, looking in the blankets for it. Please remember that it is ass o’clock and we’ve been asleep for hours already.”

“Oh my god,” you say, giggling wildly. You’re dimly aware that your knee is touching Taehyung’s under the table, but you don’t move it.

“Then I notice that something on the sheets is red, and being half-asleep I assume it’s blood from whatever bit her, and I scream ‘you’re bleeding!”

Jungkook is practically crying, and Suz takes this moment to point out, “I really blame you for the hysteria. If you hadn’t yelled that, we would have calmed down.”

Hoseok continues to ignore her, too caught up in the magic of story-telling. “So, obviously, I start trying to look for where she is bleeding from. And I start checking her arms and her back and asking her where does it hurt, and where did it bite you and she goes very suspiciously still and quiet...”

“Oh my god,” you repeat. Next to you, Delia snorts loudly, trying to muffle herself.

“So she’s standing there, very silent, and then she goes - in this teeeeeny little voice - ‘I think maybe I was dreaming’.”

Everyone howls, Hoseok especially.

“So what was on the bed?” Yoongi asks through quiet giggles.

“Like, string? Fuzz? I guess off of my pajamas?” Suz says, laughing despite herself. “God, this is so embarrassing!”

Conversation dies down naturally when your meals come, but you notice with a tummy-flutter that Taehyung doesn’t remove his knee from yours, even when he sits up straighter to work on his food.

After you eat and your plates are taken away, you all sit around sleepily as you finish your drinks.

“So, I guess it’s not really a good idea for me to come back to the campsite,” Suz announces, frowning deeply.

“It really isn’t safe,” Namjoon reasons gently. “You’re on crutches and it’s dark. You should be resting and healing - it’s hard to do that in a sleeping bag. Your body will get better faster if you let it rest well.”

“Yeah,” she says glumly.

“We’ll come pack up our stuff and we’ll head home,” Hoseok says quietly, giving the top of her back a supportive rub. “I know you’re disappointed, but it’s really what’s best.”

“I know,” she says sadly. “I know it is.”

You slowly file out of the restaurant and back to the cars. The drive back is quiet; you’re all exhausted from your day, even sleepier still from the drinks you’d had with dinner and your full bellies. You lean your head against the window, watching as the buildings of town get more and more spaced apart, until they disappear altogether giving way to dark trees. Behind the wheel, Jungkook sings quietly under his breath. Delia splays a hand on his knee.

Back at camp, Seokjin helps Hoseok start taking down the fourth tent. Yoongi eyes the empty fire pit.

“Should I bother?” he asks the group. “Or are we all just going to bed?”

“I wouldn’t mind a beer before we go to sleep,” Namjoon muses, and there’s a murmur of assent.

“Fine,” Yoongi says, but then adds threateningly, “but I swear to God if I get this whole fire going and then everyone goes to bed in fifteen minutes, I will be seriously pissed.”

“I’m gonna get changed,” you tell Delia quietly. “You want to come down with me?”

Down in the dimly lit bathroom building, you change into sweatpants and a hoodie - the night’s gotten chilly - and brush your teeth for good measure before you two head back up the hill to the campsite, arms linked, flashlight guiding you along the grassy path.

When you get back, Hoseok and Suz’s tent is down and he’s working on taking the poles apart. Yoongi seems to have the fire almost going - Jungkook kneels beside him next to the circle of rocks, both of them blowing on the embers to get them to catch.

You grab a water bottle from the cooler and settle into the chair next to Delia’s, chatting quietly. Eventually, Hoseok finishes collecting his and Suz’s belongings, and loading up his car. You all gather around the passenger side window to tell them goodbye.

They both give solemn waves goodbye as Hoseok pulls out of the campsite, heading down the road towards the exit.

You all sit around Yoongi’s campfire for a while, chatting some but mostly just zoning out, enjoying the crackling fire, the cool night air, the vague notes of music floating from somewhere else on the campground.

Seokjin is the first to bed, followed by Namjoon. Delia and Jungkook go next, disappearing into their tent with little waves goodbye.

You’re tired - you’re exhausted - your arms and legs almost buzzing with how much physical activity you did during the day. You want to go to sleep, but that requires moving. You’re half tempted to ask Jimin to carry you. You finally muster up the strength and tell the remaining guys goodbye, slipping into your tent and crawling into your sleeping bag. You fall asleep before you even zip yourself back up.

You awaken again, groggy, mouth feeling like cotton, and reach for the water bottle you’d brought. You can’t have been asleep for that long - you can still hear Jimin’s quiet giggle and the low tones of Taehyung and Yoongi’s voices as they talk quietly by the fire.

You lay there, trying to get comfortable again, trying to chase the heavy feeling of sleep, but it’s dissipated entirely. Instead, your ears strain to pick up anything Taehyung is saying, and your mind starts replaying the moments you’d shared at the quarry earlier, the feeling of his knee warm against yours at the dinner table.

Finally, you give up, sitting up completely and running a hand over your hair. You pull on the sneakers you’d left next to your sleeping bag and unzip the tent, stepping out into the flickering firelight.

The boys stop talking abruptly when they hear the zipper, and you wonder with a flush if they’d been talking about you.

“Did we wake you up?” Jimin asks as you shuffle to the cooler for another water bottle.

“I don’t think so,” you say, voice a little froggy with sleep. “I just woke up and now my brain thinks we took a good nap.”

“I hate when that happens,” Yoongi says, nodding.

Then they all just stare at you, and you at them. You definitely interrupted some sort of secret boy conversation.

“Okay,” you say, giving a huff of a laugh. “I’m going down to the lake. Just gonna… sit in the sand for a little.”

“You’ll be okay down there?” Jimin asks, a little concern in his voice. “Bring a flashlight.”

“I will,” you say, to both parts of his sentence. You grab one of the heftier flashlights off the picnic table and shove your water bottle into your hoodie pocket, heading down the hill to the lake.

You take your sneakers off at the fence at the edge of the beach, not wanting to get them full of sand. You place the flashlight beside them, so you’ll find it when it’s time to walk back. Barefoot, you continue down the beach until you pick a spot five or six feet back from the water’s edge. The water laps gently at the hardened, wet sand before you as if the lake is a sentient, breathing thing. It inhales and exhales, and so do you.

You’re not even startled when Taehyung materializes next to you, dropping onto the sand less than a foot to your left. Part of you expected him the whole time, you think.

“Hi,” you say wrly, giving him a sideways smile. He returns it sheepishly, as if he knows just how predictable this move of his was.

“Hi,” he parrots.

“You really don’t like me being down here by myself, huh?” you tease.

He blanches, eyes widening. “Do you want to be alone? I can go back up -.”

“No, no,” you reassure him. “I was just teasing.”

He looks at you, and you can tell even through the poor lighting that he’s uncertain, feeling like he’s encroaching.

“Seriously,” you say again, reaching out to touch his arm, lightly so you don’t scare him away. “I’d like you to stay. Please stay.”

He relaxes a little, and you both turn to look at the sky. It’s cloudless, and the stars are plentiful; you want to drink the entire sky in, stock up, because when you all drive back to the city at the end of this trip you’ll only see about a third of this until your next adventure. Light pollution is no joke.

For a while you just watch the sky in silence. Then Taehyung says, voice hushed, “I keep thinking about today. Doesn’t this morning feel like four whole days ago?”

You laugh a little, the sound gentle. “It does. The cliffs feel like forever ago, and the hike? That was last week, right?”

He laughs again. “I can’t believe we’re still awake,” he says, and just the thought makes him yawn, which makes you yawn.

“I napped,” you point out.

“You were only in there for like twenty-five minutes,” he says. “That barely counts.”

“I feel pretty exhausted,” you admit. “But it’s nice down here. I like this.”

He gives a hum of agreement. A minute later, when the breeze kicks up and you shiver despite the hoodie, he reaches an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against him. You hesitate for the barest second, and then lean over, letting him pull you flush against his side.

You lean your head on his shoulder and he rubs his thumb along your shoulder blade absently. You can barely feel it through the hoodie and the shirt you have underneath it, but your pulse sings anyway.

“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t look at him; you don’t want to chicken out. You keep your eyes on the stars, on the tiny lights across the lake where there are cabins.

“Hm?”

You give a little sigh. You know asking might break the spell. But you don’t like games. And Jungkook was right - this isn’t seventh grade. You’re adults.

“What’s happening here?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. “What is this?”

He squeezes your shoulder once, and you turn to look up at him, waiting.

“You know, twenty-four hours ago you were barely speaking complete sentences to me?” he points out. “And now you’re just throwing down the gauntlet at my feet, like it doesn’t even scare you?”

He’s right. You consider this for a second.

“It’s different now,” you muse. “Something’s… different.”

“It’s you,” he says, like he’s trying to convince you. “You’re different today, and I really like it.”

“You didn’t like me before today?” you say, just to tease, just to twist his words on him a little.

He lets out a noise of protest. “Of course I did - in theory. You have to admit, it’s hard to like somebody who doesn’t speak! Did I think you were gorgeous? Absolutely. But I couldn’t really get to know you.”

“And what’s the verdict?” you prod.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he quips, and you elbow him playfully in the ribs. “Okay, okay!” he laughs. “I think you’re… really capable. And smart, and funny.”

“Alright,” you say, face burning as you fight a smile. “I get the idea.”

“Do you?” he asks, turning to look down at you seriously. “I want to make sure you know - I really like you.”

You smile down at your feet, wiggling your toes happily in the sand. He lets you get away with not answering, the tiny smile you’re trying to fight telling him everything he needs to know for now. He pulls you close by the shoulder again, and you listen once again to the song of the wilderness around you: the bird calls, the rumble of car engines on the highway in the distance, the lake’s sounds as the tiniest waves roll up to the shore, Taehyung’s steady breathing beside you. The sand is soft between your toes, and Taehyung’s body is firm and warm next to you, even as the lakeside wind blows.

Finally he turns, pressing his face close to your hair. You shiver as he whispers damn nearly in your ear, “We should go back.”

You shudder again, and you know he feels it. You hope he’ll chalk it up to the wind, to the nighttime chill.

“Okay,” you say, proud of how even you keep your voice. Your hands are itching to touch him, to have him keep whispering in your ear like that, to feel his hands on you, to feel his mouth on you.

You should go back. You need to get yourself under fucking control.

He stands and holds out a hand for you, deftly pulling you to your feet in one motion. You both take a second to brush sand off, and then you head back towards the fence where you’d left your shoes and the flashlight. He’s left a pair of slip-ons right next to yours.

You’re still standing at the fence, eighty percent of your brain trying to tell you down, girl, when the remaining twenty percent takes over. Out of your mouth comes the words, “You know… in the car today, Jungkook said we needed to stop acting like idiots and do something about it. Those were his exact words.”

Taehyung freezes, one shoe halfway on, and looks at you calculatingly, as if he’s trying to determine if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying.

You are.

Fucking kiss me. You want to scream it.

“Do something about it?” he murmurs, something low and dangerous making its way into his voice. He takes a step closer to you; you fight another shiver. This suddenly feels like a game of cat and mouse, and you hope you’ll get caught. “You have any suggestions?”

You shake your head, smiling. “Don’t do that. Don’t tease me.”

He cocks an eyebrow, then reaches forward and brushes some hair away from your face. His touch is tender, but his voice comes out like steel when he asks, “You think this is teasing? What’s wrong, you’ve been wanting this?”

“For longer than you think,” you admit, and he smiles, brushing a thumb along your cheek, his hand resting lightly along your jaw. His eyes are on your lips.

“Better not keep you waiting then,” he murmurs and dips his head to kiss you.

You drop the heavy flashlight and it rolls away from you back down the path. You both ignore it; you’re focused entirely on his lips and how electric they feel against yours, how solid and sure his mouth is against yours, how you’re trying not to gasp from sheer want as his hand on your jaw twitches like he’s trying to keep it relaxed.

You make a happy sound and relax into him as his mouth opens for you; his free hand falls to your waist, then sinks to your hip, his fingers pressing against the fabric of your hoodie.

Either he’s pulling you in or you’re leaning in or both, but there’s no space between your bodies anymore as he presses his tongue into yours, a contented noise escaping him as he does. It’s lips and teeth and tongues for a long, breathless moment, your arms hooked around the back of his neck as you press your front along his.

The hand he’d been resting on your jaw slides around, cupping the back of your neck as the kiss deepens. You whimper lightly into his mouth, wanting more of his touch, and he groans in response, his hand on your hip slipping under your hoodie and pressing against the same spot on your hips that it had been, the skin of his palm hot against yours.

He breaks away from your mouth and kisses a line down your jaw towards your neck, a heart-pounding pattern of teeth then tongue then lips as he makes his way lower and lower.

You breathe out once through your mouth, going almost boneless under his hands, and he pulls you tighter against him as he starts to work his way up to your mouth again, reversing the path he’d just taken.

You capture his mouth again as soon as it’s close enough, sliding your tongue against his insistently. You curl your fingers in his hair and tug, and he moans against you, the sound making your knees go weak like jelly. God, he sounds good; you want to do a thousand different things to keep him noisy like that.

The hand under your hoodie begins to move slowly, tracing light patterns along the curve of your hips, up to your waist, then higher towards your ribcage as his mouth continues to make you dizzy. Goosebumps rise along your arms, the back of your neck. You remember - about the same time that Taehyung figures it out - that you hadn’t thrown a bra on since the thick hoodie kept you pretty covered. He gives a tiny growl into your mouth as he brushes his fingers along the underside of your breast once, then twice, before cupping it fully, his thumb rubbing the same languid circles that it had the entire way up your side. You gasp at the contact, breaking the kiss. He takes this opportunity to press his forehead against yours, whispering hoarsely, “So soft.”

You hum in answer, reaching for his mouth again, already missing it. He passes his thumb over your hardening nipple, feather-light, and you shudder under the touch, your fingers tightening in his hair. You can feel him hardening against your belly - god he’s all legs, so tall it’s unfair - and you roll your hips against him. He groans, low in his throat, lowering both hands to your ass and pulling your hips flush against his, upping the friction. You wind a leg around the back of his, trying to get closer, trying to angle it so you get some relief, too, trusting him to hold you up. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and worries it with his teeth, smiling against you when you moan in response.

“Thought you’d be shy doing this, too,” he tells you quietly, still smiling.

You’ve thought about this? you want to ask, but instead you say, “Told you. Something’s different.”

He kisses you again, chaste, sweet, then once more for good measure. You release his hair from your deathgrip, he rubs your ass one time like he’s telling it goodbye and pulls his hands away. You’re both breathing hard.

“We should go up,” he says, regret in his voice. “I’m sure they’re talking about it already.”

“‘Kay,” you say, looking around the dark for the flashlight and water bottle you’d dropped. Would you like to keep kissing? Definitely. Is your body screaming for sleep? Yes. You can’t have both. “Do you see my stuff?”

You find the flashlight first and use it to locate the water bottle in the grass. Once you’re situated, he holds out his hand, linking his fingers with yours as he leads you up the path. Your heart pounds, not settling down even a little. In fact, holding his hand while you walk makes your heart race more than having his hands up your shirt had.

As soon as you’re close enough to see the campfire, Taehyung drops your hand and steps ahead, leading the way up to camp. You aren’t sure how to take that - was it coincidence? Or did he want to make sure that no one saw?

Jimin and Yoongi seem to be putting the fire out as you walk back into camp, a lantern on the picnic table your only real source of light. Taehyung stops to talk quietly with Jimin, so you slip past him and head to the tent. You give a quick glance over your shoulder before you enter, but no one is paying any attention to what you’re doing.

You’re still awake in your sleeping bag when the door unzips again and Taehyung and Jimin step through. Jimin’s got one of the smaller flashlights to guide them as they take off their shoes and get ready for bed. You watch Taehyung through the semi-dark, and he catches the glance, stilling.

Then, he gives you a tiny, secret smile as he turns and settles into his sleeping bag.

It’s reassuring. You think to yourself - as Jimin turns off the flashlight and leaves you all in the dark - about what Delia had said earlier, that Taehyung doesn’t play games with women, that he was straightforward with his intentions. You think about his words down at the beach less than an hour ago - I want to make sure you know, I really like you.

Whatever the weird moment upon arriving at camp was, you’re sure you’ll be able to talk about it tomorrow. You have faith that it will be okay.

You can see the general shape of him in the dark, your eyes adjusting, but you can’t see his face. You think he’s facing you, based on how close his breathing sounds. Your eyes are begging to close, your body aching for sleep. But your heart is aching too - to feel close to him again, to touch him again, to feel his warmth again.

Feeling a little silly about it, you inch your hand closer to his section of the tent, the nylon cool and stiff beneath your fingertips.

And then you aren’t touching nylon anymore.

Taehyung huffs a very quiet laugh through his nose as he feels your fingers touch his, grasping them quickly before you can pull away. Once he’s sure you aren’t going to take your hand away, he loosens his hold, gently rubbing his thumb along your knuckles, back and forth. You’re smiling in the dark, grateful that no one can see you as you grin like a fool as you give his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

He was reaching for you, too.

Things will be okay.

You awaken in the morning to something alarming: someone is standing in the tent, hovering over you. You scramble to sit, gasping in alarm, and then somebody says, “Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s okay.”

“Jimin!” you scold, pressing a hand against your chest, where your heart is pounding. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Next to you, Taehyung grumbles in his sleep. He strikes his foot out in Jimin’s direction, but he’s stopped by the confines of his sleeping bag.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimin whispers, but he’s fighting a smile. “It’s just that you two were…”

You flush as you remember how you’d fallen asleep - your hand in Taehyung’s hand, both of you reaching across the dark to find one another. Was it possible neither of you had let go in your sleep?

Jimin seems to read an answer in your face to a question he hasn’t asked out loud. “Wow,” he says, rocking on his heels. “Wow.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, looking sideways at Taehyung’s sleeping form. You want to talk to Taehyung before you talk to anyone else about it. Jimin raises his eyebrows at you, amused, but he does what you ask and slips through the door of the tent.

You sit there for a minute, quietly, waiting to see if Taehyung will wake up and talk to you, but you hear his breathing deepen and even out again, so you decide it’s a lost cause. You dig what you want to wear out of your bag and follow Jimin’s footsteps out to the campsite.

Everyone else is up already, which makes sense seeing as they all went to bed before you and Taehyung went on your little field trip down to the lake.

“We’re leaving to hike in about ten minutes,” Delia warns you.

“I don’t know how I feel about a hike,” you admit. Your body feels like it’s been hit by a train. You’re sore from all the activity, but you also only got a few hours of sleep.

“It’s totally your call,” Jungkook tells you, “but this one is really easy. It goes up that ridge-,” he points across the lake, “then along the top, and then down the other side and around the lake to stop back here. It’s a really low slope, no rocks.”

“Basically, we’re taking a very long stroll,” Namjoon tells you.

You consider it for a second. “Alright, I’ll go down and change,” you decide. You make eye contact with Jimin. “You want to see if Sleeping Beauty wants to join us?”

Delia snorts into her fist and Jimin gives you a playful eye-roll before he heads into the tent. You hurry down the hill to the bathrooms, toothbrush in hand.

When you return, everyone seems pretty ready to go. You throw together a less aggressive backpack than you did yesterday - if it’s really a stroll, you shouldn’t need as much to eat and drink - noticing that Taehyung isn’t anywhere to be seen. Either he’s down at the bathrooms, or he told Jimin to fuck off and stayed in bed.

You sit at the picnic table, the wood already warm under your skin even though it’s still pretty early in the morning, and lace up your hiking boots. Delia sits next to you and leans against your shoulder.

“A little birdie told me that you and Taehyung were down at the lake together until after three o’clock this morning,” she whispers, eyes on you accusingly.

“Park Jimin,” you growl, eyes narrowing.

She giggles, then leans closer, lowering her voice even more so make sure the boys don’t hear you. “Nope - Min Yoongi.”

“Why are Jungkook’s friends so fucking nosy?” you grumble.

She elbows you gently. “Well?”

You don’t get the chance to answer, as Taehyung heads back up the path from the bathrooms. You snap your mouth closed and Delia looks at you knowingly.

“Later,” she tells you, standing, her voice making clear that this is absolutely a demand. Or, perhaps a threat.

Since the Blue trail loops around, there’s no need to drive to a trailhead; instead Namjoon leads you all through the campgrounds, your group weaving between tents, waving polite hellos to sleepy campers emerging from their tents to fix breakfast. At the edge of the campground, about twenty paces from the last tent, a large wooden sign announces the trailhead, along with a list of guidelines and a map.

Despite promising a stroll, the guys at the front strike a quick pace, heading up the trail. You’re happy to find that it is a gentle slope, normal dirt (no giant rock ledges), and is well shaded - the woods on either side dense with trees and various foliage.

You and Delia naturally slow down, hoping to get some space from the guys so you can gossip in peace. As he passes on your right, heading up to join Jimin near the front, Taehyung reaches over and gives a light, playful pinch to your side, making you squeal lightly before breaking into laughter.

“Watch it!” you tease, and he grins at you over his shoulder as he continues on.

Delia is watching you with wide eyes. “Okay, I need an update now,” she says.

You giggle quietly, and as you two follow the pack of guys you fill her in on what happened last night - Taehyung straight up saying he likes you, the kissing, how you fell asleep holding hands.

“That’s so cute I might throw up,” she tells you, brows furrowed - the same face Jungkook makes when the food is really good. They’re too alike, those two.

“It was kind of weird, though,” you muse quietly, aware that you have some space between you and the guys, but not that much. “When we got back to camp, Yoongi and Jimin were still up and he literally dropped my hand, like it was definitely a hide the evidence moment.”

She twists her lips, thinking. “But then he held your hand in the tent?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “So, what was that about?”

She makes a noise like she’s considering this.

“I’m just gonna ask him,” you decide. “It probably wasn’t a big deal. But just… I don’t know, I don’t want to do a stupid mixed signals thing. If he doesn’t want them knowing, we should… figure that out.”

“Can I just say,” she says, giving you an affectionate little nudge, “that I can’t believe that you’re just totally cool with that - with just asking him point blank? I think I’d be too scared to just say something like that, I’d be trying to figure shit out all covertly.”

You smile at her. “After the forty foot jump yesterday, nothing feels scary anymore,” you joke. “But… I don’t know. He feels… worth it? If this isn’t going to work, I want it to be because of a real reason. I don’t want this to stall out early because we’re too stupid to talk to each other.”

“I want it to work,” she says seriously, looping her arm through yours. “For both of you.”

The trail evens out, which must mean you’re at the top of the ridge. There’s no cool view from here - you’re still surrounded by trees on either side - but the group stops for a water break anyway.

Delia leaves you when she notices Taehyung heading over and makes her way over to Jungkook, giving his butt a playful pat in greeting. Bless her.

“Good morning,” you say, pressing the top of your water bottle into your lips to hide your stupid smile.

“Good morning,” he echoes, smiling back. “How’d you sleep?”

You shrug. “Pretty good, for the few hours we got. I don’t want to waste our last day here sleeping, but I really might need a nap.”

“We were planning to take the canoes out,” he tells you, “but we checked the weather and we’re supposed to get a pretty good storm after lunch. There’s a whole weather system passing over.”

“Oh shit,” you say, frowning. “That’s kind of a bummer.”

“We’ll make it fun,” Jimin says, shamelessly jumping into the conversation, clearly not having the sense to give you two some privacy the way Delia did. “We’ll be stuck in the tents so Yoongi and I were talking about breaking out the poker set?”

“Yes,” Yoongi says seriously from a few feet away. “Winning money off you dummies sounds like a great way to pass a rainy day.”

“I resent that,” Taehyung says with a playful frown.

“Sounds like the universe really wanted me to have a guilt-free nap,” you say, smiling. “And with the sound of rain? Heaven.”

“We should keep going, if everyone’s ready,” Namjoon tells the group, eyeing the sky above you. He’s right - the sun that had shined down on the campsite as you’d woken up is gone, heavy clouds filling the space between the treetops. “We want to get down there in time to put the tarps up.”

The trail leads you down the other side of the ridge and down to follow the natural path around the far end of the lake. At the front, Seokjin and Namjoon discuss how many tarps you have between you, and where they should go.

“We’ve got four, I think,” Namjoon says, counting in his head.

“One for each tent, and then maybe we can rig something to keep the campfire dry?” Jin says, thinking aloud.

When you get back to the campground, it’s already starting to rain just a little - a drop here and there.

You all get moving with the tarps, covering the tents first and tying them to the stakes that are already hammered into the ground, and then trying to set up the stand-alone cover for the fire. You manage to get it all done before the rain starts in earnest. Delia checks the radar on her phone.

“This is just the beginning of the system,” she warns you all. “It’ll be light rain like this for a little bit and then we’ve got the actual storm cell coming.”

Beyond the campground, the wind tangles with the trees, the leaves flipping over. Your Nana always told you that was a sign of a storm; you wonder absently if that’s true or if it’s just an old wives’ tale.

You all eat nonsense for lunch - a few people make sandwiches, some grab fruit, a bag of chips is passed around as the rain changes from “light” to “steady”. The tarp over the campfire seems to be holding up, and you all crowd your folding chairs under it, trying to stay dry.

“I think if Hobi and Suz had stayed, we wouldn’t all fit under here,” Jungkook observes, from practically your lap. The tarp definitely helps, but it’s clear that as the rain and wind pick up that you all won’t be staying comfortable and dry unless you spend the time zipped up in the tents.

“Who’s in for poker?” Yoongi asks, as he reaches for the cooler, trying to pull it over to the dry area without getting himself too wet.

Jungkook starts to speak and Delia jabs him in the ribs, shooting him a look. He closes his mouth, an amused expression settling on his face.

“I’m napping,” you announce, because this has been your plan all day. “I’m exhausted.”

“Yep, we’ll be napping, too!” Delia says brightly. You snort and she kicks you.

“I’m in for poker,” Jimin says. “I got cash especially for this, and I watched a ton of videos, so you better watch it.” This is directed at Yoongi. “I’m much better than last time.”

“Jimin,” Namjoon says kindly. “Every time you lie, you giggle.”

JImin scowls. “Maybe I’ll laugh when I don’t lie, too, then!”

“Poker’s never really been my thing,” Taehyung admits. “I think I wouldn’t mind resting either. Can I come snuggle with you guys?” he asks Jungkook, eyes glinting as he knowingly makes trouble.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Delia says, rolling her eyes with a grin. “I’m not third-wheeling in my own damn tent.”

You pretty much all rise at the same time, folding up the camping chairs and stuffing them into their little bags. Jungkook collects them all and tosses them in the backseat of his car so they’ll stay dry.

Delia practically drags Jungkook by the hand into their tent, giving you a cheeky wave goodbye. The guys file into the third tent; Jimin pauses and looks at Taehyung. They seem to have a silent conversation - there are some eyebrows and head tilts involved - and then Jimin gives Taehyung a little salute and follows Namjoon into the tent.

Alone, the rain coming down around you, you and Taehyung stare at each other in silence. Then, he’s closing the distance between you, hands going immediately to your hair as his lips find yours. He grunts, barely audible, fingers tightening behind your head as he gets what he wants. You bring your hands up to grip at his biceps, half for balance and half because you love how they feel under your fingers.

He leads you backwards, one little step at a time, mouth working against yours, until you’re both in the rain. You can feel it in your hair, running down his arms and over your fingers, plastering your shirts to your backs. Taehyung doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, kissing you like he needs it to live. Arousal blooms low in your belly, your legs shifting with the onslaught of sparks and tingles and need.

Taehyung tears his lips away from yours long enough to whisper, “I wanted to do that all day.”

“Then you should’ve,” you challenge.

You’ve backed up all the way to your tent, and he untangles his fingers from your hair so you can bend down and unzip the door. By the time you climb in and zip back up, the spell’s been broken a little bit. Taehyung turns away from you, bending down by his sleeping bag to dig around in his duffle bag. Finally, he turns back and tosses a towel to you.

“For your hair,” he explains. “We probably shouldn’t stay in these, we’ll get sick.” He gestures at his wet shirt.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why do I feel like you orchestrated this perfectly? Just for an excuse to take your shirt off?”

He laughs, holding up his hands to mime innocence. “No,” he protests, smiling a little. “I just genuinely couldn’t wait until we got in here to kiss you again. I haven’t thought about anything else since last night. Not even food.”

“So, what happened?” you ask, feeling bold. “We were together all morning - why wait?”

He looks at you like he’s calculating.

“I didn’t know how you felt about it,” he admits, voice quiet. You’re aware that Jungkook and Delia are about three feet away, and only separated from you by tent walls. “Like, in front of everyone. We hadn’t, uh-.” He stops, clears his throat, scratches the back of his neck and peers up at you. “We hadn’t talked about that.”

You’re slowly putting two and two together. “So last night, when we got to camp-?”

His eyes find yours. “What?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. He doesn’t even know, and here you’d been thinking about it all day.

“You stopped touching me the second we were close enough for them to see - I just felt like...”

“Oh!” he says, eyes going a little wide as he realizes how it must have seemed to you. “No! No no no - I just knew I was already going to get teased to hell for following you down there, I didn’t want to drag you into it, too. At least without talking about it first.”

“I guess I appreciate that,” you say, fighting a smile.

He shakes his head. “As if I’d subject you to the chaos gremlin Park Jimin without your consent. And Yoongi acts like he’s above it, but that guy gossips. He’s worse than my mom.”

You giggle a little. Taehyung shivers visibly and says, “Okay, I really do need to change out of this. You should, too. I can- um- I can turn around, if you want, or-?”

He’s babbling a little, and it strikes you that he’s nervous. Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, the guy whose mere presence had made you stumble over words and forget how your hands worked, is nervous about you.

Warmth and happiness rise within you, almost enough to eradicate the chill from your rain-soaked tank top. It’s reassuring, and cute, and it somehow - impossibly - makes you want him even more.

He shuts up, flushing a tiny bit, and reaches for the hem of his shirt. He turns a little, like he wants to make sure you don’t have to look at his belly - as if you hadn’t all been swimming the day before - but you step closer as he pulls the thin material over his head.

“Want to give me a hand?” you murmur. Taehyung’s eyes shoot to yours, unsure. Around you, above you, the rain redoubles its efforts. The walls of the tent shudder and tremble under the onslaught of wind and rain. Distantly, you hear the first rumbles of thunder.

Then he steps the rest of the way to you, dropping his discarded t-shirt to the tent floor, reaching to take the towel out of your hands. He drapes it over his shoulder and reaches for the hem of your tank-top, his eyes steady on yours. He peels it away from your skin, up over your ribs, over your breasts. You raise your arms so he can pull it over your head.

You reach around to undo the clasps of the sports bra you’d worn for the hike, but he swats at your hands, going for it himself.

“This one likes to get stuck,” you warn him, smiling.

“I got it,” he assures you, full of confidence, and he’s right - you can feel the clasp give and then he’s sliding the straps down your arms - one, then the other. He gives it a light toss over to your sleeping bag, and then takes the towel off of his shoulder. He’s been watching you the entire time - for signs of uncertainty, or just because he wants to, you aren’t sure - and he doesn’t stop now as he gently dries your arms, your shoulders, your belly, carefully under and around each breast, then around and down your back.

“How’s that?” he murmurs, dropping his hands.

“Drier,” you smile, “but still chilly.”

“Well, that’s unacceptable,” he says playfully, voice so low. You’re about to shuffle into his arms when you’re surprised by a flash outside. The lightning bolt is followed quickly by a sharp, angry crack of thunder.

You gasp instinctively, then chuckle at yourself. Taehyung smiles at you indulgently and then crouches by his sleeping bag, messing with the zipper. You peer around him to see that he’s unzipping it completely, and then he shakes it out to increase the amount of floor it covers. Instead of standing, he plops down in the center, legs stretched out before him. He looks up at you, head cocked, like a delectable invitation.

Another crack of thunder spurs you into movement, shakes you from your reverie, and you straddle his lap easily, your hands finding his shoulders for balance. He’s kissing you again before you’re even settled in, his tongue stroking yours as his hands splay wide across your back. You shiver into his embrace, your chilly body aching for the warmth that radiates from him. You don’t know if you should blame the cold or the excitement, but your nipples are impossibly hard, and Taehyung moans quietly into your mouth as he feels them brush against the flat of his own chest as you press your body against his.

One hand comes around from your back to cup a breast - the one he’d neglected last night at the lake, as if he’s been keeping score and knows where his attention was lacking. He breaks the kiss to nibble a gentle line down your jaw, his fingers pressing at your flesh, his thumb rubbing circles against the hardened pebble it finds there. When you whine, he turns his head so he can whisper closer to your ear, “Shhh, beautiful.”

You nod, sucking in a quiet breath, and he continues kissing you, continues tracing shapes with his thumb, sending shocks and sparks down the length of your spine as you roll your hips over his.

The storm has found you in full, thunder cracking and snapping above the tent, barely seconds of silence before another rumble gives its reply. Taehyung’s beautiful face glows white and then dark again as lightning strikes somewhere nearby.

The rain and wind act as music, guiding your pace as you continue to kiss. You kiss him until your head spins, until your lips burn, until your core aches. You run your hands up his back, down his sides. He twists under your touch, choking back a giggle, and you realize you’ve tickled him. You place your hands flat over the spot, your touch firm enough to quell the sensation.

“Sorry,” you whisper, giggling a little. He answers you with a kiss, one hand still holding you in place in the middle of your back, the other leaving your chest and tangling in your hair again. You find your hands trailing down his chest, between your bodies, landing on the button of his shorts.

His hand flies to your wrist, and you stop, looking at him quizzically.

He lets out a tiny huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he says. “Half of me hates myself for this… but, I don’t want our first time to be… on a sleeping bag… in a tent… four feet away from Jeon Jungkook. I want to do it right - do it better.”

You can’t help it - you release a tiny laugh, giggling into his neck. Again - who let him be so cute?!

He leans back so he can peer at you, accusatory. “Are you laughing at me?” he cries.

“No,” you assure him, even though you were, a little bit. “I just didn’t know you’d be so… considerate.”

He pouts adorably, his hands coming to rest on your hips, just above the band of your leggings. “I appreciate the art of romance,” he sniffs defensively and you giggle again.

He gives another defensive sniff at your giggle. Then, almost bashful, he asks, “Lay with me?”

He reaches for a loose blanket from on top of Jimin’s sleeping bag - he’d been cold the night before, stealing spare blankets from the car. You shift off of his lap and he snaps the blanket to spread it out, laying back on his pillow and patting the space next to him. As you slide in beside him, smiling softly, he pulls the blanket up over both of you, rolling to curl up against your back. The feeling of him behind you, warm and solid, is enough to send your mind skipping and singing into oblivion. How can you feel so happy over something so simple?

“Well,” you say quietly, as he brushes some hair off of your neck and presses his lips sweetly to the spot he’d uncovered, “on the topic of romance… last night I asked you what’s happening with us, what this is. You never answered.”

He considers this, tightening his arms around you. “I guess I got distracted,” he admits, still nuzzling the back of your neck, sending goosebumps racing down your arms even though you two had cooled it down. “I’ve been told I have a one track mind. And you weren’t wearing a bra.”

You giggle. “That’s fair,” you allow. “But I’d still… like to know.”

He shifts behind you, warming his legs against yours. Another crack of thunder, further to the east, makes you jump, and he smoothes a hand down your arm.

“I’m pretty open to the options,” he says finally. “I want to see where this goes, but I’m okay with whatever pace you want. If you want to go home and just talk, we can do that. Or if you want to try dating - I mean, I’d like to take you out. If… you want that.”

You reach up to where his hand is resting on your upper arm and lace your fingers together, giving him a squeeze.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I’d like that.”

His hand is reassuring in yours, his arm warm and solid around you. Slowly, you let the cadence of his breathing and the steady pattern of rainfall lull you into sleep.

The morning mood is cheerful and bustling as everyone takes down the tents and packs up the cars, but you feel a bit like you have a heavy heart. While you are definitely looking forward to a real shower and a night in your own bed, you also don’t want to go back to reality, back to work and your apartment and a whole world that until now spun merrily along without Taehyung in it. You want to stay optimistic, but you wonder if going home will pull the inertia away from whatever has started between you.

Your nap the previous evening had been interrupted by Jimin, coming to tell you that the rain had moved on and Seokjin was starting a fire for grilling. He’d squealed, a hand over his eyes, as soon as he saw you two spooning.

(“Tell me you’re not naked!” he’d cried, which of course had gotten everyone else’s attention. And, well, you were - from the waist up, at least.

“Chaos gremlin,” Taehyung had growled as he reached over to grab your bag so you could find a t-shirt, the blanket clutched to your chest.)

Taehyung spends much of the morning needling Namjoon to let him ride shotgun; he’d ridden up with Suz and Hoseok, so he had to ride home in Yoongi’s car.

“My legs are too long for the back seat!” Namjoon protests. “I have to sit like a crab!”

“You love crabs!” Taehyung counters. “And my legs are just as long!”

Namjoon pats him on the head placatingly. “I know you like to think that, buddy. But they’re really not.”

Delia helps you carry the cooler back to your own car, sliding it onto the backseat, and then you both go back to get your bags and camping chairs. Taehyung stands by the backseat of Yoongi’s car - accepting his defeat, you guess - and jerks his head when you catch his eyes.

You toss your bag onto the floor of the backseat, and then shuffle over, pouting playfully.

He gives you a smile and takes your wrist, pulling you closer.

“Why are you sad?” he asks.

“I have to go back to work tomorrow,” you lament.

He laughs out loud. “That’s the whole reason?”

You shrug. “I’m gonna miss Seokjin’s shitty cowboy coffee.”

He crosses his arms, biting on his bottom lip to keep his smile at bay. “That’s why you’re sad, huh? That’s your story?”

You smile up at him, caught in your game. “I guess I’m just hoping we really do see this through.”

He looks at you seriously now, arms coming uncrossed. “We will,” he promises. “I told you I want to take you out. I’ll text you as soon as we’re back to set it up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice small, mouth twisting. “If you say so.”

“Trust me,” he says. He pulls you in for a sweet, soft kiss, then tells you, “Scratch that - I’ll text you as soon as I miss you.”

This makes you laugh a little. “Okay,” you say again. “Looking forward to it.”

He goes to help handle the last of the heavier items and you and Delia do a last sweep to make sure you hadn’t left any garbage or recyclables hiding anywhere. Once everything is certainly squared away, everyone calls goodbye to one another and you all head into your respective cars.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” you say, sticking your phone in its little dock and pulling up your map. “Two and a half hours home.”

“Let’s get it,” Delia grins.

Yoongi’s car pulls out first, then Jungkook’s, and you follow. At the exit, each car stops at a stop sign, then takes a left onto the two-lane highway. As you pull up to the stop sign, a notification pops up on your phone, overtaking the map for a split second.

[10:45 AM] Kim Taehyung: hey beautiful. what are you doing friday night?

(definition graphic by my dearest darlingest @/kookstempo)

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving some form of feedback!

You can also find the rest of my work here on my Masterlist :)

#fic: TRIP #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung oneshot #taehyung fluff #camping au #s2l #bts x reader

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hollyethecurious · 9 months

Text

CS AU: The Law of Surprise (1/3)

Summary: The Law of Surprise: a custom as old as humanity itself. The Law dictates that a man saved by another is expected to offer to his savior a boon whose nature is unknown to one or both parties. In most cases, the boon takes the form of the saved man's firstborn child, conceived or born without the father's knowledge.

A/N: This is NOT a Witcher AU. Want to make that clear from the get go. The idea for this fic WAS inspired by the show, however. I’m not sure if the Law of Surprise was a show/game creation or if it existed before. Regardless, this fic is my spin on the concept and will be posted in three parts.

Much love and thanks to the @cssns mods for keeping this event going year after year! A HUGE shout out to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the AMAZING pieces she made to accompany my fic. Go give her ALL the flails! Finally, all the hot chocolate, rum, and grilled cheese sandwiches for my amazing betas @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. LOVE YOU LADIES TO BITS!

Rated T (for now) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One

Smoke billowed from the hull, choking the air as steel clanged around them. Shouts and screams echoed across the deck that was coming apart beneath their feet.

“The King! We must save the King!” Liam bellowed over the melee, dispatching a man who, up until a few days ago, had been one of their brothers-at-arms. No sooner had the man’s body hit the boards than another rushed forward to take his place, challenging the traitorous sea captain whom they had expected to aid them in their mission, not take up arms against them.

“Brother!” Killian cried out, moving through the throng towards Liam with slashes of his cutlass clearing the way.

“The King!” Liam commanded once more. “Get to the King! That’s an order!”

Killian’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword and he swallowed past the instinct to ignore such an order. Notes of black powder, brine, and blood filled his sinuses as he took in a fortifying breath and turned away from his captain in search of His Majesty King David. Through the soot laced plumes, the dying breaths of a ship that would soon find itself on the bottom of the sea, Killian could see King David fending off multiple assailants with sword skills that had become legend. Movement through the swirls of ash caught Killian’s attention and his stomach dropped. Lurking behind the King was an unseen assassin, and Killian had but a few seconds to launch himself between his would-be sovereign and certain death.

The force of their meeting blades jarred Killian, but he held firm. Applying a few less than savory tactics to give him the upper hand, he made quick work of the assassin then threw himself into the fray, defending the King as they fought side by side until the remaining adversaries lay dead.

“Y-You,” King David panted, his chest and shoulders heaving from his exertions as he tried to catch his breath. “You serve my… my father, King George.”

“Not any longer, Your Majesty,” Killian told him. “Once we learned of George’s treachery against Queen Snow, we could not stand idly by and accept such orders.”

“We?”

“My brother, Captain Liam Jones, and those of us who chose to follow good form rather than betray a treaty made in good faith.”

“Lieutenant!” one of their men shouted. “Captain says we must abandon ship at once!”

“Too right!” Killian called out, grasping the King by the arm. “Time to go, Your Majesty.”

The planks they’d used to board the crippled vessel were just coming into view when the ship lurched and began to list violently. Grabbing onto the rigging, Killian prompted King David to hoist himself up onto the gunwale.

“Here!” Killian shouted, forcing a length of rope into the King’s hands. “Take this and swing over. Our men will catch you!”

“What about you?”

“There’s no time! You must go, Your Majesty. Now!”

When the King attempted to voice his protest once more, Killian gave him a firm shove, forcing him to cling tightly to the rope as his feet lost purchase with the side of the ship. The sight of the King being hauled to safety was the last thing Killian saw before the deck beneath him gave way. Agony ripped through his wrist where the rigging was still wrapped around it. The weight of his body and the vicious twisting of the rope as it held to the cleats it was knotted upon effectively severed his hand, dropping it into the flood waters below with a sickening splash that preceded the rest of Killian’s body as he desperately tried, and failed, to grab onto the railing with his remaining hand.

Sea water filled his mouth, still open from his screams of pain, and forced its way down his throat. Panicked, he reached out, hoping against hope to make his way out of the collapsing hull, determined it would not become his tomb. Through the vanishing streaks of sunlight, Killian watched in horror as crimson began to surround him. His own blood, freely flowing from the shredded remains of his wrist, colored the frigid waters as his consciousness started to wane and black threatened to overtake red. Something brushed his side, and with the last vestiges of his strength and wits, Killian noted it was a barrel, still sealed and buoyant, making its way back towards the surface with the line and hook that had once secured it within the hold still attached. Scrambling, he secured the hook to the straps crisscrossing the front of his uniform and prayed the sea would not yet claim him, giving into the oblivion that was proving too much to overcome.

~/~

The room was still. Too still. And bright with sunlight. The serenade of cooing songbirds, the swishing of skirts, and the flutter of wings too big to belong to the nesting swallows were within earshot.

Killian groaned and willed his eyes to open, though he had to squint past the assault of the sunbeams streaking in from the windows. Just as he’d deduced while coming out of his stupor, he was no longer on a ship, but in a stone room with many windows and a number of cots filled with others who, like him, were suffering from a variety of injuries. Killian had almost gotten up the courage to inspect his own grave wound when a shifting presence seated at his bedside snapped his attention to the person keeping vigil.

“Y-Your Majesty?” Killian croaked, stunned by the fact Queen Snow would be the one in attendance at his sick bed. “What? How?”

“Shh,” Her Majesty soothed, waving one of the healers over. “You have been unconscious for some time.”

“Surely you have not been at my side this entire time.”

The Queen chuckled. “No. Your brother and I have been taking it in turns.”

“Why on earth would you--”

“You saved my husband’s life. Ensuring you survived your injury seemed like the least I could do.”

His injury. His hand. Killian clenched his eyes tightly and swallowed back the bile his anxiety was threatening to send up his throat. The Queen took his remaining hand and leaned in to softly murmur words of comfort into his ear.

“The fairies did all they could, but with your hand lost to the sea they could not…” She paused, her voice strained and filled with compassion as he finally opened his eyes and lifted his head so he could take in the bandage wrapped remnants of his left arm. “You had already succumbed to fever by the time the ship returned, and while their magic was able to tend to the wound, the trauma you sustained made it difficult for them to apply the full measure of their powers. Now that you are awake, you can begin to…” Again, her voice trailed off, most likely distressed by the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “Lieutenant, look at me,” she insisted, squeezing his hand a bit tighter until he complied. “You will survive this. Your brother tells me there is none as resourceful or as a stubborn as his little brother, so I know you will manage to adjust in time, and with the fairies aiding you in your convalescence--”

“Younger,” Killian choked out, a sob catching in the back of his throat. When the Queen’s brow pinched together, her head tilting in perplexity to his response, he clarified, “Liam knows I abhor being referred to as his little brother. I prefer younger.”

A smile twitched at the corner of her lips - lips as red as roses, or so it had been said in the tales chronicling her and the King’s storied love - and the corners of her eyes crinkled affectionately as she yielded, “Younger.”

“Your Majesty,” the young fairy she had waved over when he’d first awakened timidly interjected. “I should tend to Lieutenant Jones now. Would you also like me to send word to Captain Jones--”

“No, I shall inform him,” the Queen replied. With a sigh she stood from her seat and allowed the fairy nurse to take her place. “See that you comply with everything they request of you,” she commanded Killian, her gaze turning regal and unrelenting until he nodded his agreement. “Good,” she said with a warm smile, one that tilted further upwards into a teasing smirk as she vowed, “I promise to look back in after Captain Jones has had his chance to fuss over you.”

“Perhaps your fairies ought to put me out of my misery now,” Killian groaned, the prospect of Liam hovering by his bedside, relentlessly questioning the fairies’ work while issuing his own commands of healing and restoration upon his little brother making him wish for the sweet abyss of sleep once more.

~/~

It had been the rumors of poisoning that had first started the brothers Jones to question their allegiance to King George. Whispers of a treachery that would ensure Queen Snow’s line ended with her had begun to spread and with it, the suspicion of their King’s true character. Killian had suggested King George might not be the noble and just ruler they had first thought when signing on with His Majesty’s Navy after being freed from indenture when the ship they served sank in a storm, but Liam would not hear such slander. It was not until the rumor had been confirmed by Lancelot, a soldier turned traitor they had been tasked with capturing, that Liam finally accepted that which Killian had tried to convince him.

King George had poisoned Snow White. Cursed her during his toast at the wedding that was supposed to unite their two kingdoms - an added benefit to the true love she’d found with George’s son, Prince David. It was not love, either for his son or new daughter-in-law, that filled the King’s heart that day, though. George had wanted revenge, he wanted to punish them both for going against his wishes, for robbing him of a union with a more prosperous kingdom, so he had Snow’s goblet dosed with a potion that rendered her barren and unable to produce an heir, a fact he revealed to them after he’d returned to his own kingdom, thereby nullifying the treaty they’d made in good faith before the wedding.

Lancelot had not only provided them with the truth about their King, but confided in them his knowledge of a plot the sovereign had conspired against his own son. The newly crowned Misthavian King’s life was in danger. Before George had dispatched Liam’s crew to go after Lancelot, he’d commissioned another ship to lay in wait, sure that King David would sail to confront his father about what he had done. Their orders were to waylay King David’s vessel and see to it the ship went down… with no survivors.

Without a moment to spare, the brothers Jones had rallied their men, calling upon them to reject the traitorous King and instead take up arms in the service of the noble King David, and set a course towards the location an ambush would most likely take place. Luck had been on their side, arriving just as King David’s ship had begun taking on water.

During his many weeks of convalescence, Killian learned that upon returning to Misthaven, King David had accepted the allegiance and oaths of fealty from those who had defected. In addition to new loyalties was the boon of acquiring George’s most prized ship, the Jewel of the Realm, of which he had insisted Liam remain captain once the damage she’d sustained in battle had been seen to.

Both Liam and Queen Snow kept Killian apprised of the war that was now in full swing, and the lieutenant would be lying if he said he was not eager to join his brother in the fray once more. His injury (and his own stubbornness), however, was delaying such a desire from becoming reality. Though healed to the best of the fairies abilities, it was Killian’s determination to rehabilitate and acclimate to his new reality without any magical assistance that slowed his progress. All that changed, however, when he heard the news that repairs had been completed to the Jewel, and Captain Jones was being called forth for his first mission under their new sovereign.

“Are you sure?” Tink asked, again. “You’ve been doing so well without it.”

“I will not let my brother sail into dangers unknown without me to watch his back,” Killian growled. “You’re the one who kept insisting I was making things too difficult for myself, so just perform the bloody magic so I can present myself to Their Majesties at my brother’s side!”

Tink gave him one last assessing look, then sighed. Holding out her wand, she sent a cascade of magic over him, altering the dominance of his muscle memory from his left side to his right.

“There,” she said. “All you were able to do with your left hand before, you will now naturally experience with your right.”

Killian clenched and released his right hand, then wrapped it around the hilt of the sword sheathed at his hip. Drawing it, he cut the air around him with metallic swishes, marveling at the ease with which he instinctively maneuvered it with his previously weaker hand.

“We still need to determine the attachment you wish to have fashioned for your brace,” Tink reminded him, but Killian waved her off.

“Later.”

Returning the sword to its scabbard, Killian straightened his appearance. “Have they assembled?”

Tink peered over the gallery’s balcony wall that overlooked the throne room. “The King and Queen are just now being seated. They’ll be calling for your brother momentarily.”

“Then I’d better hurry,” Killian quipped, shooting Tink a quick wink. After a few steps, he stopped and turned back, grasping the fairy by her shoulders and pulling her in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmured before pulling back and placing a quick peck on her cheek.

Tink rolled her eyes. “Go,” she said with half a laugh, and Killian did not have to be told twice.

“What do you think you’re doing out of the infirmary?” Liam questioned when Killian made it down to the hall outside the throne room just as the Royal Usher appeared to announce their entrance.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you go on this fool’s errand without me, did you?” Killian needled with a hint of cheek.

“It only becomes a fool’s errand when a fool joins it,” Liam shot back, stifling the smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

“Precisely,” Killian agreed, waggling his brows in Liam’s direction. “Your involvement alone has seen to it.”

A chuckle rumbled through Liam’s chest and he slapped his brother good-naturedly on the back. “We’ll see what His Majesty has to say about it. I suppose you’ve earned at least that.” Turning to the usher, Liam requested, “Please announce our arrival to Their Majesties.”

Nodding, the usher signaled the guards who pulled open the large wooden doors.

“Captain Liam Jones and Lieutenant Killian Jones of Their Majesties’ Royal Navy!”

Killian kept stride a step behind his captain, focusing on his breathing and the rampant beat of his heart the closer they got to the dais. Though he’d had the pleasure of becoming acquainted enough with Queen Snow to no longer be nervous in her presence, this was the first time since shoving the King off the gunwale of his ship that Killian had been in the imposing man’s presence. Following Liam’s lead, he bent low at the waist when presented and awaited acknowledgement from his sovereigns before straightening to attention.

“Lieutenant Jones, how wonderful to see you,” Queen Snow greeted with a warm smile. “Though, I confess, we had not expected you.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Killian offered. “I hope you forgive my impudence, but once I learned of the commission placed upon the Jewel, I could not, in good faith, sit idly by whilst my captain and fellow sailors answered the call of duty.”

“And do you feel as though you are fit for duty, Lieutenant?” the King inquired, assessing him with a stern glance that flicked to the brace that covered his blunted wrist. “We’ve been kept apprised of your progress, and it was my understanding you had refused magical assistance.”

“It’s true, Your Majesty,” Killian replied. “I was resistant to it, but I have since relented.”

In his periphery, he saw Liam’s head jerk slightly towards him, his eyes darting to the side as he remained at attention in the presence of their commander and king.

“I see,” the King said, his expression growing pensive as he shared a look with his wife. “And you are adamant in your request to join your captain?”

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“And you, Captain? What have you to say about your Lieutenant’s request?”

“I leave such matters in Your Majesties’ hands,” Liam responded with the diplomacy he’d been taught, until a flicker of something passed over his features and he dared to add, “but there is no other I would rather have by my side whilst completing this mission than my lieutenant.”

Killian fought against the proud grin pulling at his lips and lifted his chin a bit higher as he awaited the King’s response.

King David cast his eyes towards his wife who gave a demure nod before he turned back and stood, surprising the assembled court.

“Then I suppose we have no objection,” he commented. “However, there is something that must be done first…” He held his hand towards a squire stationed next to the platform. The lad approached, a broad sword laying flat across his palms, and presented the weapon to the King who grasped the hilt as he motioned for Killian to step forward.

“Kneel,” King David commanded, and Killian, knowing he was the final deserter of King George’s service who had not undertaken a new oath of fealty, did as he was commanded. The weight of King David’s sword rested against Killian’s shoulder and his eyes never wavered from his sovereigns as he was asked, “Do you, Killian Jones, in good faith and without deceit, pledge your fealty to this kingdom and to the Sovereign Family who governs it? Will you, to the best of your ability, faithfully serve those who may call upon your duty as well as those who are in need of your charity? Do you vow to never cause harm to those to whom you have sworn your allegiance and that you will honor your accords so long as they are honored in kind?”

“I do,” Killian answered tightly, his throat constricted from the swell of emotion rising up within him.

King David lifted his sword and repositioned it to Killian’s other shoulder. “Then in addition to accepting your allegiance, and in accordance with the practices and traditions of this land, I not only recognize your selfless bravery in saving my life, but offer you a boon in addition to my gratitude.”

Killian’s brows pinched together and he felt the tips of ears go red. Other than the Queen’s remarks after he’d regained consciousness, nothing more had ever been mentioned regarding his actions that day in battle. He had simply been doing his duty; never would he have imagined a public ceremony, much less a boon.

“It gives me great pleasure to bestow upon you…” the King continued, his Adam’s apple jumping as he swallowed hard, “The Law of Surprise.”

A flurry of murmurs erupted throughout the throne room. Killian’s lips parted in shock and his brother had to assist him back to standing.

The Law of Surprise. A windfall whose nature is unknown to the parties involved. Whatever treasure or lands or blessing the King had yet to become aware of, but destiny had already designed for him, would actually be Killian’s to claim, the value of which could be innumerable.

Vaguely, Killian was aware of the order that the hall be cleared as the King offered the lieutenant his hand. Accepting the gesture, he managed to croak out a quiet ‘thank you’.

“No. Thank you,” Queen Snow replied warmly, having joined the men from the dais. “Both of you. This Kingdom is forever in your debt.”

“And I am in yours,” King David declared, releasing Killian hands. “Until the Law of Surprise is fulfilled. So…” Reaching into his robes, the King produced a scroll, sealed with the Sovereign stamp. Handing it over to Liam, he continued, “Take all precautions to keep yourselves safe during this mission the Queen and I am tasking you with. These orders are to be kept under seal until you are ready to depart from our shores. We cannot risk anyone finding out.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” Laim replied, taking the scroll and giving a reverential bow of his head. “Come, little brother,” Liam prompted, slapping Killian on the back. “We have our orders and must ready the Jewel.”

Killian stumbled, his body slow to obey, still too overcome by what had transpired. Bowing to their Majesties, Killian was about to follow his brother out of the hall when the Queen surprised him once again by throwing her arms around him and giving him a tight hug. Words seemed to get caught in her throat for a moment, and Killian sensed there was something she wished to say, but then thought better of it.

When she finally pulled away, she took his hand in hers and imparted, “Take care of one another and return home as quickly as you can.”

“Aye,” Killian answered with one last nod of his head. “Until we meet again, Your Majesty.”

~/~

Awaiting them on the deck of the Jewel was a large trunk with a smaller satchel set atop. Liam gave the order to prepare to set sail, and the crew busied themselves with their tasks, ignoring the parcels as best they could.

Liam motioned Killian towards the captain’s cabin, and once they were below they began to inspect the King’s orders together. Having grabbed the satchel on his way down, Killian opened the latch as his captain broke the sovereign seal on the scrolls.

“Star charts?” Liam murmured, inspecting the first parchment closely. “I've never seen these constellations before.”

“And I’ve never seen markings like this,” Killian added, showing his brother the golden sextant that had been hidden away in the satchel. “To what strange land are we headed?”

Liam set aside the star chart and began to read the official missive. “We're going to a new land, brother,” he said excitedly. “One that requires… a pegasus sail in order to reach it!”

“A Pegasus sail?” Killian replied, incredulously. “Is that what the trunk aboard deck contains?”

“Aye!” Liam answered, his eyes continuing to scan their orders. “A sail woven from the feathers of one of the last remaining pegasus.”

“Legend has it that horse could fly.”

“Indeed.” Liam looked up from the scroll, his eyes as big as saucers. “So can we. Our orders are to fly to this new land and stop King George’s men from obtaining a weapon.”

“What sort of weapon?” Killian snatched the parchent from Liam’s hand and began reading the orders for himself, even as his captain continued to relay them.

“A plant.”

“A plant?” Killian parroted, snidely. “His Majesty wishes us to cross realms for a plant?”

“All King David knows is that George also has a pegasus sail, and plans to use it to send men to obtain that plant, which, according to the fairies, can be used as a weapon capable of terrible destruction.”

“So, what? Does he wish for us to capture the plant for ourselves?” Killian did not much like that plan. He would gladly fight his enemies, but his code demanded he fight fair. The only weapon he knew of that came from plants was poison, and the idea of using such a tactic was underhanded and loathsome. Was it not George’s use of poison against Queen Snow that had caused them to defect from the kingdom of their birth in the first place?

“No,” Liam assured him. “We are to stop George’s men from retrieving it, burn their sail, and once we’ve returned, burn ours as well, so no one can ever venture there again.”

Killian relaxed his posture, relief flooding him, along with a measure of guilt that he’d ever doubted King David and Queen Snow's intentions.

Doubts that were further laid to rest when one of the men called down from the hatch, “Lieutenant! A parcel has arrived for you. From Her Majesty the Queen!”

Both men made their way back up, and Killian took the parcel from the sailor’s hand. It was heavy and odd-shaped, with a letter attached. Handing off the parcel to Liam, so he could open the note, Killian shook out the page and read:

Dear Lieutenant,

Tinkerbelle informed me you had yet to choose an attachment for your brace. I hope you will forgive my presumption, but I thought this might be a suitable option.

The wrapping crinkled as Liam opened the parcel, exposing a shiny, silver hook, the base of which had been refashioned to fit the mechanism within his brace.

It is the very hook you used to strap yourself to that barrel, which ultimately saved your life that day. It is my hope that this hook will bring you the same favor each and every day you wear it, as it did the day you brought favor back into my own life when you first employed it.

Yours,

Queen Snow

The entire ship had gone silent, with only the snapping of the sails and splash of waves against the hull daring to compete with the Queen’s words. Sun gleamed off the surface of the hook, still held in Liam’s hand, and Killian swallowed tightly as he took it in his own. Holding it up, he considered how this seemingly inconsequential piece of equipment had changed the course of his life, and with the Law of Surprise still owed to him by the King, the greatest of those changes were as yet unknown to him. Queen Snow was right. He could think of no other attachment that would be more fitting for whatever the fates might have in store for him.

Positioning the hook into the end of the brace, he gave it a firm turn until it clicked into place, restoring a piece of himself he never thought he’d get back. Clearing his throat, Killian shifted his posture, bringing himself to full height, faced his brother, and asked, “What are your orders, Captain?”

Liam’s eyes filled with pride, but he maintained his composure in the face of their crew. “Deploy the Pegasus sail and begin charting our course, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye,” Killian acknowledged before addressing the crew. “Get ready to set sail, mates! Make speed!”

~/~

Killian’s boots sank into the damp sand as he followed Liam up a small hill, heading away from shore. Behind him, the rest of the scouting party fanned out, their eyes cutting through the vegetation ahead for any sign of inhabitants. Dense jungle crept towards them with towering trees and lush ferns obscuring any view they might have into the island's heart. Once they made it to the top of the berm, Liam turned to instruct his men and Killian followed suit. No sooner had Liam opened his mouth than a voice spoke up from right behind them.

“Are you two lost?”

Whirling back around with his sword drawn, Killian was astounded to find an adolescent youth staring at them curiously. Where the devil did he come from?

“You look lost to me,” the boy said with a smirk as he lazily perused the men before him, seemingly undeterred by the many swords pointed his way.

“Identify yourself, boy,” Liam commanded.

“I'm Peter Pan,” the boy stated. With a sweeping hand, he gestured towards the island and added, “I live here. Who are you?

Liam studied the boy for a moment more before sheathing his sword and signaling the rest of the men to do the same. “Captain Jones,” he replied before gesturing towards Killian. “And this is my lieutenant. We're here by order of the king.”

Killian secured his own sword, unnerved by the way the boy’s eyes lingered upon him, especially his hook, before responding to Liam’s statement.

“The king, huh? We don't have any kings in Neverland,” he informed them, then smugly added, “just me.”

“That's funny,” Liam deadpanned whilst pulling a folded piece of parchment from his vest pocket. Shaking it open, he held it up in front of the boy. “We seek this plant.” He gave the boy a moment to look at the drawing. “Now tell us, boy, where can we find it?”

Ignoring Liam’s demand, the boy plucked the parchment from Liam’s hand and inquired, “Your king sent you for this plant?”

“You know it?”

“Dreamshade?” the boy replied, his brows high upon his forehead with a glimmer Killian did not much care for sparking in his eyes. “It's the deadliest plant on the island. Your king is really ruthless.”

“It’s not like that,” Killian countered. “King David sent us here in order to prevent that plant from falling into the ruthless hands of King George. We’re here to safeguard it, not exploit it.”

The boy flicked his eyes up from beneath his brows, and the sinister smile pulling at the corners of his mouth made Killian’s blood run cold.

“Funny,” the boy drawled. “They said the same thing.”

A battle cry rang out from the treeline, followed by the sounds of foliage being snapped and trampled by a dozen or more men rushing from the brush. King George’s men descended without warning, having clearly arrived at the island before them with enough time to set up an ambush. Killian drew his cutlass and threw himself into the fray, clashing swords with an enemy whose blade was smeared with a black, sticky substance he did not recognize.

Though outnumbered, King David’s men were able to make short work of George’s. Killian surmised they must have made land on the opposite side of the island and were therefore already fatigued from their trek through the jungle, giving King David’s men the upper hand. When Killian managed to disarm the opposing captain, his hook pressed against the man’s throat as he gave the order of surrender, George’s remaining men all threw down their weapons and sank to their knees.

“Tie them up,” Killian ordered as he scanned the beach for the treacherous boy who had clearly aided in the ambush. He did not find the little miscreant, but did see his brother wincing at the water line, his hand clamped over his arm as blood oozed from beneath his fingers.

“Liam!” Killian cried, rushing to his brother’s side. “You are wounded!”

“It’s nothing,” Liam said, attempting to wave him off. “Merely a flesh wound.”

Unable to keep his balance, Liam practically fell into Killian, who wasted no time in tucking himself under his captain's arm.

“Starkey!” Killian called out, gaining their bosun’s attention. “See that the prisoners are transported back to the ship in the other dinghy. I’m taking the captain back to tend to his wound.”

“Aye, aye!” Starkey replied, ordering two of their men to accompany the captain and lieutenant back to the Jewel.

By the time Killian managed to get his brother back on board and safely within the captain’s quarters, Liam’s complexion had become sickly pale and his skin clammy. When Killian insisted on seeing the wound, Liam muttered something about Killian fussing like an old woman.

“Let me see!” Killian barked in command, taking his brother aback enough that he complied.

Rolling up his sleeve revealed a nasty gash on his forearm, but more alarming than the blood were the black streaks running along his veins beneath his skin.

“What the devil?” Killian muttered, examining the pattern branching up Liam’s arm.

“I think it was… whatever they had… coated on their… blades,” Liam said, his breathing clearly labored. “Some sort of… poison, perhaps?”

Poison.

“Dreamshade,” Killian exhaled on a panicked breath before launching himself towards the cabinets at the far end of Liam’s cabin. “There must be a cure,” he said, rifling through the bottles of potions and elixirs the fairies had supplied them with. “An antidote or magical healing potion that can--”

“Oh, you won’t find a cure in there,” a voice quipped from behind him.

Spinning around, Killian found himself face to face with the demon boy they’d met on shore. Pan.

“He'll die as soon as the poison reaches his heart.”

His callous tone had Killian seeing red. Grabbing the boy by his tunic, Killian slammed him against the steps that led up to the helm, hook at his throat as he demanded, “Tell me how to save him!”

Pan appeared more amused, excited even, than terrified, and merely hummed before confessing, “There is a way to stop him from dying.”

“Tell me,” Killian snarled, releasing Pan and taking a step back so the boy could procure something from his belt.

“Pixie dust,” Pan stated, holding up a pouch that somehow shimmered despite its dark leather exterior. “Powerful stuff, and easily capable of curing any ill. Even dreamshade.”

Killian reached out to take the pouch, but Pan toyingly pulled it away. “I must warn you,” he said in a tone of mock seriousness. “All magic comes with a price, and this dust is no exception. Don't use it unless you're willing to pay.”

“Whatever the cost. Whatever you want. It's yours,” Killian agreed.

Pan held his gaze for a second more then handed the pouch over. Killian wasted no time. After righting his brother, who was nearly slumped off his chair and unconscious, he pulled the pouch open with his teeth then poured the contents on the festering wound that was nearly black as pitch. The glittering substance shone brightly as it reacted with the poison, forcing Killian to shield his eyes.

“Brother!” Killian shouted, shaking Liam’s shoulders and willing him to wake up. “Brother!”

Jolting awake, Liam sucked in a deep breath and swallowed thickly, his eyes casting about as he got his bearings. “That's captain to you,” he croaked out cheekily when his eyes landed on Killian, attempting to assuage his brother’s concerns. Getting to his feet, he let Killian help stabilize him as he asked, “What happened?”

Relieved to see the ruddy vitality return to his brother’s cheeks and no remnant of the vile dreamshade clogging his veins, Killian chortled, “It doesn't matter. Let's pay the boy and be on our way.”

“What boy?” Liam inquired, prompting Killian to turn circles within the cabin.

“Boy!” he called out, unnerved by the way the brat seemed to appear and disappear into thin air. “What do you want?” he called out again, when suddenly, from overhead, shouts began to bellow on deck.

“Is that…”

The acrid scent hit Killian at the same time as his brother and their heads snapped towards each other as they exclaimed, “Fire!”

Scrambling up the hatch steps, they were met with chaos as the crew floundered helplessly under the flying embers of the pegasus sail, its golden plumage being consumed by flames.

“What is the meaning of this!” Liam shouted. “Who is responsible for--”

“I decided what I wanted,” a now familiar voice stated from behind. “I want this ship and a crew to serve it… and me. That’s my price.”

Dread laced with fury washed over Killian. Stepping forward he towered over the demon boy and through clenched teeth declared, “No. I never agreed to--”

“Whatever the cost. Whatever you want. It's yours,” Pan parroted his own words back to him, a self-satisfied smirk twitching at his lips that made Killian’s blood boil.

“I cannot pay you with something that is not mine to give.” Sweeping his arm out towards the men, he said, “These men’s lives are not mine to barter, and are therefore exempt from having to pay the debt I alone owe.” Casting a glance towards his brother, Killian swallowed hard before turning back to the boy. “It was my brother’s life you spared, so it is my life… my service alone that--”

“No!” Liam shouted. “Killian, don’t be a fool. None of us shall pay such a price.” It was now Liam who loomed over the boy, who appeared as bored as ever. Drawing himself up to full height, Liam commanded, “You may have taken our sail, but that does not leave us without means to leave this place.” Calling out over his shoulder, Liam bellowed, “Lieutenant! Take a contingent of men and retrieve George’s sail. Starkey! Take this miscreant to the brig.”

Killian wanted to argue, unable to shake the feeling of dread the boy’s presence wrought over him, but before he could voice his concerns Pan issued his own warning.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Captain. Your brother made a deal for the island’s magic, and all magic comes with a price. You would be wise to honor the cost.”

“Your cost is too high,” Liam sneered. “I won’t see any of my men forced into your servitude, especially my brother, simply for my sake.”

“Very well, then,” Pan quipped with a shrug. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Liam scoffed and turned his back on the boy. Setting his sights on Killian, who still had not made a move to carry out his earlier order, Liam opened his mouth to issue it again when his face purpled and a choking sound emitted from the back of his throat. Killian watched in horror as his brother collapsed, the sprawling blackness of the dreamshade once again snaking its way up the veins of his neck.

“Liam!” Killian rushed to his brother's side and gathered him in his arms. “No! No, no, no, please!”

“I did warn him,” Pan drawled in a taunting tone. “He should have paid up when he had the chance.”

“Let me pay,” Killian begged. “The deal was struck between us. You and me. I’ll stay in exchange for my brother’s life and our men’s freedom. Save him, return them all to our kingdom, and I’ll remain here. In your service. For as long as you wish.”

“And the ship?”

Killian hesitated. The Jewel wasn’t truly his to give, but surely their Majesties would value the lives of their subjects over a vessel they’d only acquired in battle.

“Aye. The ship as well.”

Crouching down in front of the brothers, Pan’s indifference to the gurgles and gasps of dying breath from the elder sprawled prone in the younger’s embrace only heightened Killian’s terror as the boy stated, “Ten years.”

“What?”

“I want to make sure the terms are clear this time,” Pan clarified. “Ten years of service from you and this ship, with no interference from your brother or your kingdom.” His cold eyes shifted down to Liam’s, which were wide and bloodshot with panic. “If you make any attempt to rescue your brother or take back this vessel, I’ll consider the deal forfeit… as well as your lives. Yours, your brothers, and anyone else who mettles. Deal?”

“Yes,” Killian agreed, desperately. “We have a deal.”

“Captain?” Pan inquired of Liam, who could only nod his consent, though reluctantly. “Excellent.”

With a wave of his hand Liam’s malady was lifted, but before Killian could assist his brother back on his feet, Pan flicked his wrist again and Liam, along with the rest of the crew, disappeared before his very eyes.

“What have you done with them?” Shooting to his feet, Killian grabbed the brat by his tunic and began shaking him violently. “Where have they gone? Tell me!”

“Relax,” Pan replied. “I’m keeping up my end of the bargain.” Turning his head, he nodded towards the far end of the coastline. “There. Your brother, fellow crewmen, and captives are there.”

Killian’s head snapped in the direction of Pan’s gaze, and he loosened his grip on the boy as a ship, King George’s ship, came into view as it rounded the coast. The main sail was not the golden color he’d expected, knowing George’s men had also used a pegasus sail to reach the island. Instead, a sail blacker than night whipped briefly until it caught the winds, billowing out towards the sea.

“What sort of dark magic…” Killian murmured beneath his breath, but the question was cut short when he witnessed the vessel begin to lift out of the waters. Scrambling to get a better view, Killian pulled his spyglass from where it was usually stowed at the helm and peered through the lens. Across the expanse he caught sight of his brother, peering back at him through his own glass. Killian’s heart constricted in his chest. He had not even the chance to say good-bye. Had not been given the opportunity to set his affairs in order. There was so much he'd wished to say, so much he’d wanted his brother to know and to impart upon others who had become important in his life.

Tinkerbelle, the other fairies, Queen Snow, King David. What would they think about the deal he’d struck? What would become of his brother and the other men when they returned without the fleet’s prized vessel? Would they be punished? Demoted? Would his actions become a millstone around their necks for the next ten years?

As the levitated vessel grew smaller and smaller, making its way through the skies, Killian could only pray that the fact that they’d been successful in thwarting George from obtaining dreamshade would be enough to satisfy the king. When at last he lost sight of the ship within the clouds, Killian lowered the spyglass and heaved a despondent sigh while choking back tears. Though he may not know the plight Pan’s service might bring him, nor the response of the king when Liam returned, one thing he did know was Misthaven’s war with King George was far from over, and he would not be there to protect his brother, fight for his sovereigns, or prove he was worthy of the boon the king had already gifted him. A boon that would go unclaimed and unfulfilled.

He supposed he ought to be grateful the Law of Surprise did not work in reverse. He would not wish this misfortune on anyone.

“There, there,” the voice he’d already come to hate patronized. Killian stiffened when the bastard approached, standing beside him and gazing out upon the Neverland waters. “Is it really so bad?”

Killian did not respond. His years of indenture taught him to hold his tongue, and though he was loath to be back in a position of servitude he would shoulder the burden and play the part of compliance, unwilling to give the demon any recourse that might alter their deal and prolong his sentence.

Wiping away the vestiges of the emotional farewell to his former life, Killian straightened his posture and faced his new master. “The ship and I are at your command. What are your orders?”

Pan smiled, a sickening expression that made Killian’s stomach churn, and circled his quarry. “I do have an errand for you, but I’m afraid it must wait until my shadow returns.”

Killian’s brows scrunched in confusion, but he said nothing.

“Until then…” Pan halted his steps and squared himself off with Killian, his hands clasped behind his back as he rolled onto his heels. “I think a makeover is in order. For you and the ship.”

“A makeover?”

“Indeed.” Snapping his fingers, Pan’s smile grew broader as Killian was knocked off kilter. Steading himself, he realized his entire wardrobe had changed. Gone were the crisp white linens and gold embroidered navy wool of his uniform. In their place was a pair of buttery soft black leather pants, a billowing, smoke-hued blouse beneath a silver garnished, corseted leather waistcoat, and an adornment of rings and pendants.

“What the devil?” Flicking his bewildered eyes to Pan, he balked when the boy extended a can of paint and brush towards him.

“Here,” he said. “I’ve seen to your makeover, you can see to the ship’s.”

“And what, exactly, am I to make over?” Killian asked through the tick in his jaw.

“Her name,” Pan declared, as though the answer were obvious. “You no longer sail the Jewel of the Realm,” he informed Killian. “From now until your service has ended, she’ll be known as… The Jolly Roger.”

Killian swallowed the bile creeping up his throat, his fist clenching at his side. “So you mean to make me a pirate.”

Pan’s gaze flicked down to the hook braced at the end of Killian’s left arm, then slowly scanned its way back up. “Oh, I think you and I both know there’s a part of you that’s always been a pirate. Now the exterior and occupation will match the man beneath.”

Anger sparked within him. How dare the little devil associate his hook, gifted to him by the Queen for what it represented to them both, with something as vile and villainous as piracy. “You know nothing about me,” Killian seethed.

“Perhaps not,” Pan shrugged. “But we’ve ten long years together. I imagine we’ll come to know one another quite well by the end of this… arrangement.” Setting the paint at Killian’s feet, Pan’s tone hardened. “Ready your ship, Captain. It’s a pirate’s life for you. For the next ten years at least.”

Killian balked at the boy’s sudden disappearance, then gave himself a moment to come to terms with all the demon had said. He was right. For better or worse, this is the deal he had struck. Picking up the can and brush, Killian made his way to the bow and with a heavy heart, rechristened the Jewel.

Later that evening, with the ship’s main sail infused by a spectre Pan referred to as his shadow, it was not the Jewel of the Realm that departed Neverland. No. The Jolly Roger set sail to complete her first mission. A mission to transport orphaned, abandoned, and truant boys from a lawless place called Pleasure Island back to Neverland. A mission carried out not by Lieutenant Killian Jones of Their Majesties’ Royal Navy of Misthaven, but by the blackguard who would come to be known as the scourge of the seas, a villain whose soul would be described as being as black and depraved as the sail he hoisted. The fearsome and reviled pirate, Captain Hook.

Part Two

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