baby steps | taegi

8.

Hey~ long time no see. I'll actually finish this this time around LOL, pls forgive me.

Also contemplating on starting a BTS one-shot fic collection, since my attention span is the size of a walnut when it comes to multi-chaptered work, but we'll see. Anyways, happy new year and thanks for sticking around with me in this fic for so long!

"So you're saying you want to meet my little se—"

"—Yes," Taehyung responded nonchalantly without missing a single beat, eyes innocently boring into the rapper's agitated ones as if his request wasn't the craziest thing to ask considering their situation.

My goodness, how can he look like such an adorable puppy?

Ah— Min Yoongi, you fucker. Focus.

The older shook his head, at a loss for words. "Kid, you've gone insane."

"You're the kid."

"...."

He has never wanted to disappear more.

"Taehyung, I will suffocate you."

. . . .

"Dada!"

The soft pattering of sock-clad feet on wooden floor followed by giggles resembling wind chimes on a windy day, these sounds often welcome Taehyung home from class on a, dare he say, regular basis. It wasn't too foreign of a concept that he frequented Yoongi's studio after his classes, given that the revelation had transpired a sense of openness and trust between them, and while Taehyung definitely never had any experience taking care of littles, he knew that Yoongi's wide gummy smiles at the end of the day made everything worth it— from his constant ventures to online caregiving forums to reading toddler care books in the library, earning him the weirdest stares from his batchmates and seniors alike— despite his constant stumbles and inconsistencies. Though they seldom discuss their situation outside of his little headspace, he knew that Yoongi felt grateful for his presence, as well.

They have always been that way, after all.

Very little words were needed between them.

"Don't run, Yoonie. What did dada tell you?"

The smaller brunette immediately halts his steps, chocolate hues round with remorse as he raises his gaze to the male, who leans on the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Yoongi hangs his head lowly.

"... tha' Yoonie will fwall and dada be sad 'cause Yoonie have ouchie.."

"And?"

"An'.... an' tha' it make dada sad when Yoonie no no listen to dada.."

The Little's voice trembles at the end and Taehyung just feels his heart completely melt, smoldered by the tiny voice that seems to have ultimate, unwavering power over him. How can he stay mad when Yoongi stands in front of him like this, eyes guiltily locked on his fingers with tiny toes anxiously pushing on the wooden surface?

Ah, he lost.
With a gentle smile, Taehyung tenderly ruffles the elder's hair, expression brimming with adoration for the pure gesture. He didn't want to admit it, but this side of Yoongi is something he wouldn't dare show anyone else. Perhaps selfishness and greed are rearing their ugly heads, however, he could easily say all the same that he is just protecting the male's secret, something he had kindly entrusted him with all of this time— after all, that's still the truth, isn't it? Albeit not the complete version, but he's allowed to hold his tiny white lies.

Yoongi raises his head, bottom lip verging on a tiny pout as he glances at Taehyung uncertainly. He stares for a moment, eyebrows weaving in thought and Taehyung remains still, mouth twitching as he represses the urge to chuckle. Upon gauging that his caregiver is no longer upset with him, the corners of the Little's lips curve upwards into a smile before widening into a full-blown grin, excitement blooming on his features once more. He reaches up to grab Taehyung's pointer finger, turning on his heel to tug him along to the corner of his studio where his stuffed toys currently lay in a circle.

"Dada, Yoonie and Baba invite chu to tea paty!"

Oh, and he forgot to mention:
His baby-, er, Yoongi— throws the best tea parties. Try that.

. . . .

"You're friends?!"

There is silence.

Complete and utter radio silence.

Then there is the soft intake of breath, possibly from Hoseok, quiet, uncomfortable shifting from Yoongi, followed by a quiet 'um' from Taehyung, who stares at the three who seem to have a semblance of rather.. statically odd tension in their midst.

The afternoon was an entire rollercoaster, at least by his definition, the moment they had finished cleaning up Yoongi's tea party and an unfamiliar face came in, a person he soon came to know as Hoseok, and within half an hour of the two musicians chattering solemnly amongst themselves, his music professor comes in.

His. God. Damn. Music. Teacher.

Mr. Kim motherfreakin' Namjoon, who is adored by the majority of the student council and above all, professor Kim, who overheard Jimin gushing to Taehyung about how attractive his dimples and his pecs are.

Please, the Earth opening up and swallowing him whole would be easier than this.

Here they are, ten minutes later, and Kim Namjoon somehow finds it incredibly difficult to ingest that his closest friend can be acquainted— or in this case, even be childhood friends— with one of his students, who coincidentally eyes him during class, trying to navigate the perfect timing to hook his blonde-haired friend with him.

"So, let me get this straight: you're friends. Like, friends. You know—"

"Yes, Joon, friends, look it up on Google if you need help figuring out what it means so bad."

"But—"

"Taehyung-ah, are you hungry? Here, have some coo-"

"Hoseok, you're getting crumbs all over the fuc-"

"Yoonie."

"Hyung, I just don't know how you can be friends with one of my stu— wait a second, what the fuck is a Yoonie? Hyung?"

Namjoon gapes.
Taehyung freezes and Yoongi looks as if he's ready to projectile vomit and swallow it up again.
Hoseok takes a bite from his cookie, unperturbed.

Once again, silence surrounds the room.

This time, it blankets the air thickly.

A moment of silence for Kim Taehyung, he thinks to himself as Yoongi's sharp glare lands on him. He smiles sheepishly but the elder's deadly gaze didn't once falter and he knows that he's definitely due to submerge in fuel and set for combustion soon. Did he deserve it? Without a doubt. Is he prepared? Mm, not exactly. Yoongi's expression contorts into a lethal smile and he could only gulp, glancing to Hoseok for help, only for the older male to look away.

Well, crap.