They were late.
They were late.
They were very, very late.
They were going to miss their flight and be forced to stay in this god-awful airport for hours and hours while it was sorted out.
Namjoon didn't know whose brilliant idea it had been for the team to fly out of LAX two days before Christmas.
He didn't know, but he was pretty sure they'd be receiving only coal in their stocking this year.
This was hell.
He'd expected it to be busy, being a major travel epicentre right before Christmas, but this was ridiculous. He'd seen entire standing crowds at their concerts less populated than the 10 feet surrounding them right now. People were hurrying every which way, brushing past him from the left, cutting across from the right, suddenly appearing from behind- it was dizzying. The sheer number of travellers was crushing, and like bumper to bumper traffic on a highway, all movement had been slowed to a crawl. Naturally, nearly everyone was still in an enormous hurry, all trying to shove, bully, bulldoze or push their way to where they had to be.
He was pretty sure there were Christmas carols playing over the loudspeaker, occasionally interrupted with flight announcements and late passenger calls, but he couldn't actually hear anything over the cacophony of shoes on tile, roller bags, screaming children, shouting parents, arguing couples, business people yelling into phones…the list went on, everybody seemed to have some annoyance or irritation that had to be made public.
Namjoon was exhausted. He and Hobi had been up for nearly 40 hours, and the others weren't much better. Concerts, weird weather and delayed travel times having completely screwed their schedule around. They should have been home yesterday.
Instead, they were here, trying to fight their way through this jarring crowd in time to board their plane before it left in 14 minutes. To make matters even better, there was talk of grounding planes later in the night because of predicted inclement weather.
Seriously, if hell was a place on earth, right now Namjoon was wading shoulders deep through the fiery pit.
They were ten minutes out from their flight time, and Namjoon could feel the urgency thrumming through his veins; they were going to be cutting it perilously close to missing this flight. He did his headcount again, double checking how far back the rest of the team was, hoping that they hadn't been separated further yet again. He craned a look back over his shoulder to find Yoongi's grey and blue hoody, Taehyung's platinum blonde hair and Jungkook's bright red t-shirt.
They'd all been walking closely together when they'd arrived, but only a few steps in and they'd slowly been separated by people intent on a particular destination, steamrolling through whatever got in their way, whoever got in their way. Jin and Jimin had managed to stay together and were only a few feet in front of J-hope. Namjoon himself was next, and while he wasn't overly pleased that their two youngest were bringing up the rear (just the possibility of trouble seemed to attract the pair (Jimin too, but he was safely ensconced under Jin's arm) the fact remained, that there was very little he could do about the situation other than get them to the plane. Yoongi was bare steps ahead of the two, and Namjoon had seen his fellow rapper throwing his own glances over his shoulder, which also make him feel slightly better.
He knew it wasn't really his responsibility. They weren't really his responsibility- at least, not in this situation, not in this way. Their security team was spread around them, doing their professional best in this challenging environment. They were responsible for making sure the team was all here. All okay. It wasn't something Namjoon had to worry about.
That didn't change the fact that he did. Worry about them and feel responsible for them. That he wanted to. He was the leader, their leader. They trusted him and looked up to him, and Namjoon wouldn't let them down.
He couldn't anymore. Maybe once, years ago. But they meant too much to him now. They all meant too much to each other. They were family. And Namjoon would always protect and care for his family. Often whether they liked it or not, but that was beside the point.
So Namjoon did things like count heads.
And every time he counted five instead of six, his heart would try to explode out of his chest while adrenaline would course into his bloodstream and make his head spin. And then that fat man would move, and J-hope would come back into sight, or Jimin would be pulled back to his feet by Jin (Namjoon can still hear them arguing over who tried to trip who), Jungkook's head would pop back up from having bent to pick up whatever he'd dropped (Not your phone again Kookie- please.), and Namjoon would feel faint with relief for a second, before starting his head count again.
Namjoon hadn't seen any fans yet.
He felt kind of bad for thinking it, because he usually embraced their fanbase with real honest enthusiasm; but he was hoping that the change in schedule, travel delays and the sudden rescheduling of their flight time had been enough to throw off even their most tenacious fans. ARMY was… well, BTS probably wouldn't even exist if not for ARMY, but on evenings like this one, where Namjoon was already having trouble keeping track of his team, adding the fan/idol dynamic was just another headache he could do without.
"JUNGKOOK! JUNGKOOK-AH! AAAAIIIIIIIIGH! BTS! BTS!"
It was as if his thoughts had summoned them.
Namjoon spun.
There's Yoongi's hoody, and that's Tae's hair… red shirt? Red shirt? Red- there.
Their maknae had definitely been spotted.
"Jeanjeng", Namjoon breathed; there had to be at least 50 screaming fans congregated by the escalator Jungkook was passing.
The kid was doing the right thing; waving politely while keeping his head down and continuing to move, but the excitement was getting to be too much for the fan group, and they were starting to press closer.
One of the security guards suddenly appeared at his own shoulder, pulling Namjoon forward, obviously wanting to get them out of the crowd before a fan rush could happen. Namjoon followed along, but his attention was back over his shoulder.
Another of the security guards had appeared at Jungkook's side, and Namjoon sighed with relief. Their security personnel were very good at their jobs. As he watched, the guard stepped up close on Kookies left, physically shielding the young idol from the smiling, cheering group.
Even from this distance though, Namjoon could tell that the guard was concerned.
He also knew why; in this sort of crowd, it would be very, very easy to be overrun.
A few of the other security personnel had started to backtrack to assist, but the push of the crowd was hindering their efforts.
The fan group suddenly seemed to triple in size and enthusiasm, swelling outwards as they pushed and shoved to be at the front of the group. Several of the bolder young women had pulled away from the rest of the group in their hysterical excitement and were almost at Jungkook's side, reaching out…desperate for even the slightest hint of interaction. One was actually being held at bay by the security guard physically using his arm as a barricade.
Jungkook was beginning to look panicked. It was one thing to interact with their fanbase in a controlled, secure environment, but the idea of being converged upon in this claustrophobia-inducing environment; to have personal space invaded, to be pawed at and touched, pushed and pulled… Namjoon had even heard horror stories of idols nearly being trampled by huge crowds of overly-excited fans.
The easy smile had disappeared off Kookies face as he tucked his head down and tried to move faster.
A fruitless effort, especially as just then, (seeming completely oblivious to the unfolding drama and 200 screaming fans only feet ahead of them) a group of what could only be retirees on their way to the Bahamas or somewhere (most of the shirts were both florid and horrid), began to cut across Jungkook's path in a lovely neat single file line, hands linked together tightly, so as not to be separated as they slowly meandered with the flow of the travellers around them…there had to be 60 or 70 of them.
Jungkook was brought to an absolute standstill. The screaming fans behind were not.
The security guard tried to press through the line, but the two gentlemen he'd approached just glared at him with all the entitlement of the elderly, their hands clenched tightly together. It would be no better causing a scene by bowling over a bunch of old people, then it would by being mobbed by the excited fans behind them.
Namjoon turned around and began to wade back, ignoring the guard who tried to protest. There was no way he was going to let Kookie get set upon, even if he had to throw himself between and present a much better, more willing target for their fans affections.
And then Taehyung, the closest to their struggling youngest, performed magic as only Taehyung could, interrupting the line of retirees with the beautific smile that had several of the elderly women reaching out to pinch and pat his cheeks. J-hope called it 'The Teahyung Effect'- it worked on children and anything female. (There was also startling evidence that it was a universal effect, but Namjoon wasn't quite ready to expand his research project just yet).
Taehyung was holding out his scarf, a mass of knitted, butter soft verdant green that Namjoon remembered Tae opening by the Christmas tree last year. Definitely a favourite piece of clothing if judged by the number of appearances it made on a weekly basis. The elderly lady he'd stopped to talk to had a kind smile on her face as Tae seemed to semi-successfully communicate with her using a combination of gestures and words.
She shook her head in the negative, but then turned towards the woman in front of her and asked something. The neighbouring lady turned to look at Taehyung as well, inquisitively, head cocked as if considering something before she too shook her head. The woman two more places down the line responded in much the same manner.
It seemed a stalemate had been reached, and the three woman conferred briefly, eyeing their fellow travellers towards the front of the line. They appeared to ask Tae something, to which the boy gave a (more than slightly confused) nod. In response, the woman he had initially spoken to plucked the scarf from his hands and tucked into her handbag. Tae looked crestfallen, but a quick glance down the line showed that Kookie and his personal security shadow had made effective use of the pause, and were now on the other side of the elderly group, and were quickly moving towards Namjoon and the plane.
Taehyung seemed to realise they didn't have any time to waste, and he simply smiled a half-hearted grin at the women, dipped his head, and then turned and followed after Jungkook.
Namjoon shook his head. He hadn't really been able to follow what that had all been about but chalked it up to Tae being Tae.
Thank God for Tae.
Kookie suddenly ploughed into him, already talking a mile a minute, "Hyung! Sorry, sorry! – they came out of nowhere! Can we still make the plane? I didn't mean to-"
Namjoon hugged the kid to his side, starting to move in the right general direction while checking his watch and speaking to Kookie at the same time, "Aigoo, Kook-ah, I wasn't worried about the plane, I was worried about you! I'm sorry you were stuck back there alone- are you okay?"
Kookie was nodding, "I'm okay hyung, they didn't get that close-" it had looked pretty close to Namjoon, but he let it go. Kookie was okay and they were on the move again, with hopefully just enough time to still catch that plane.
He could see Jin and Jimin by the destination gate, Jin digging through his bag for all their boarding passes (he'd collected them after the third 'misplacement' earlier in the day), J-hope was seated on the bench beside them, his eyes already dipping closed due to being immobile. Namjoon smiled, J-hope was among the most tired of them, he'd been falling asleep at every opportunity for the past two hours.
Adjusting his grip on Kookie, Namjoon turned to look back over his shoulder and came almost face to face with Yoongi, less than two feet behind. At his glance, the older rapper raised an eyebrow but gestured toward Jungkook in explanation. Namjoon smiled; Yoongi had been concerned about the maknae, and had moved up in case the fans managed a second approach before they managed to board.
Namjoon smiled, he didn't think they were close enough, although if he listened he could still hear the faint chanting of their BTS slogan. He appreciated the back-up though.
He looked further left, scanning the crowd for blond hair.
He looked a little further back, thinking Taehyung might have been slowed.
He swept his gaze over the crowd between the escalator and himself.
His eyes started to dart around as instinctive panic began to build in the back of his mind, settling on and then dismissing anyone who bore even a fleeting resemblance.
His hold fell away from Jungkook slightly, and he was vaguely aware of Yoongi speaking beside him, but Namjoon was too riveted by the sudden chill that swept up his spine.
Taehyung was nowhere to be seen.
Taehyung sagged with relief when he saw Kookie reach Namjoon's side.
His small pleased smile soured when he saw their hyung wrap the maknae in a secure side hug.
He was tired and cranky, and sick of airports and people and everything. It was late and he just wanted to go home. He didn't want to be back here in all these people by himself. He'd been getting shoved and jostled ever since they'd arrived and Teahyung was sick of it. And now he'd lost his scarf.
He wanted that hug.
Taehyung sighed, moving to one side slightly when a lady pulling along a sullen 4-year-old stomped past. It had been to help Jungkookie, so he didn't really mind, except the scarf had been a gift from J-hope.
Hobi had picked it for Tae, and Tae had loved it.
Now he didn't have it anymore.
He'd intended to just use it as a distraction; actually losing it had been an accident. He hadn't been sure what the women had been saying, and needing to stall a little longer, he'd just fallen back on his tried and true technique: when in doubt, 'Smile and Nod' usually achieved the right outcome (as Sweetly as Possible when dealing with exasperated hyungs).
Apparently, it had not been so true in this case.
Still, Kookie was okay and that was all that really mattered.
He was just miserable.
Absorbed in watching Namjoon and Kookie with a tiny pout, (Tae really wanted in on that), Taehyung hadn't noticed the business man several feet to his left, phone glued to his ear, head swivelling as he scanned his boarding pass, looking for his gate.
Taehyung hadn't noticed when the man suddenly identified his destination and abruptly changed directions.
Taehyung hadn't noticed the man's roller bag protest to said sudden change of direction and attempt to overturn; the man blindly jerking it harshly to the right to correct.
The first Taehyung noticed was the solid weight of the bag as it caught the back of his legs, and literally dragged his feet from beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground in a free fall of sudden shock and fear.
He couldn't stop his descent; no time to try and grab something or someone for purchase. He hit the tiled floor, hard, the breath punched from his lungs with a solid huff upon impact, and that was the only reason he didn't yelp when sudden intensely sharp pain erupted in his left elbow and radiated up and down his arm.
He lay still for an instant, eyes watered at the concentrated pain. Funny bone his ass. Exhausted, shaken and in pain, Taehyung blinked against the sudden overwhelming urge to just cry. But the floor of LAX wasn't the ideal plac-
LAX. Their plane!
He rolled to his feet just as someone brushed passed him forcefully, and he stumbled slightly, quickly righting his footing before he ended up underfoot. Naturally, the majority of the crowd seemed to be coming his way.
Taehyung glanced at his watch; only five minutes until take-off.
He looked up, searching for-
…what was the gate number again?
He couldn't remember. He couldn't-
He spun around, looking for- had they been heading towards that bookstore? Or had they already passed it?
The tumble to the floor had completely thrown off his sense of direction; he had no idea which way-
Teahyung felt his breath hitch-
Where were they?
What if they'd already-
They wouldn't have. No way.
But they were going to be so mad at him.
And then, from behind Taehyung heard- "Is that-?! V! Veee!"
Taehyung turned slowly, his heart climbing higher into his throat with each beat as he backed up against the marble support column behind him.
Three girls- One in an "I 'heart V" t-shirt, were staring at him from two feet away.
Behind them, was the horde.
Taehyung didn't know exactly what it had been. Exactly why they'd reacted the way they had.
But instead of the horror scenario forming in his mind of being rushed, converged upon by screaming fangirls(and boys), touching and pushing and pulling, invading and harassing; so loud and confusing and overwhelmingly terrifying…the girl at the front of the group had all but cooed at him.
From behind her, he heard smatterings of "Oh my god!" "So adorable!" "He's so cute!" amidst the overwhelmingly popular "Aaaaw" that sounded as background buzz.
Taehyung blinked. No one rushed. No one screamed or cheered or yelled.
Taehyung blinked again and tilted his head slightly to the left, bamboozled.
One of the girls literally clutched her heart and dropped to her knees.
The girl at the front, in her (awesome! if Tae was in the mood to think so) t-shirt, slowly approached, and Taehyung looked on warily, waiting for the inevitable rush, now that the odd stalemate was breaking. It wasn't like he could go anywhere, cornered as he was.
She stopped just in front of him, and Taehyung bit his lip- waiting for the other shoe to drop…
It didn't.
Instead, she asked, in slow, overly pronounced English, "Are you okay, Taehyung?"
Was he okay?
Hell no.
Tae definitely didn't let his lower lip wobble. Did not. Total coincidence that several of the group behind seemed to simultaneously combust.
"Um- Lost…?" he shrugged, gesturing around helplessly, hoping he'd chosen the right word. Because here he was letting their fans help him.
And why not?
No one else was.
Okay, that was mean, he was sure that the others-
The girl was talking again, and Tae tuned back in, "Help you find- uh, Rap Monster?"
Taehyung had understood that. Clear like crystal. Did he want help finding Rap Monster?
His hands came up and pressed together as he dropped tiny little heads dips over them. Gods, yes – "Please-"
She nodded, her own eyes almost as wide as his. She backed away, turning to her to friends, voices low and lost in the cacophony.
Then, the three turned and as one, began to chant, "Kim Namjoon! Kim Seokjin! Min Yoongi! Jung Hoseok! Park Jimin! Jeon Jungkook! We've found Kim Taehyung!" By the third time through, the chant was 200 fans strong and echoing into the airport like a loudspeaker.
The plane was gone. They'd missed it. After hours and hours of waiting and hoping and altering flight times and destinations and the mad rush to get here on time – They'd missed the plane anyway.
And right then, Kim Namjoon would have been hard pressed to care less.
Taehyung was missing.
For the first five minutes, Namjoon had managed some level of composure.
More remarkably, he'd kept the others semi-calm, and in one place.
With less than five minutes until departure, they hadn't had the time to go looking, not if there was to be any chance of making the flight.
They'd distracted themselves during the few minutes by checking their tickets (with the extremely frazzled airline staff) so that when Taehyung arrived (likely at a run with some brilliant excuse) they could board with as little delay as possible. They'd also tried calling Tae's phone (Just to be doing something to try and help), but weren't surprised when it went straight to voicemail; Jimin recalled that Taehyung's phone had been nearly flat over two hours ago.
Most of the security team had immediately fanned out, hunting back through the crowded area, but Namjoon had agreed with their managers; if the team left now to look, as they all desperately wanted to, it wouldn't matter whether Taehyung was found in time- they'd all miss the plane anyway.
Their best bet was to rely on Teahyung himself.
Taehyung knew where they were going. He knew the departure gate and the departure time. He knew how desperately they were all ready to go home, knew that this flight might be their last chance, he knew they wouldn't leave without him. Namjoon had known that Taehyung would do everything in his power to make it to the gate on time.
So, it was only as the time for their plane to depart passed, without them on board, that Namjoon had tipped over into truly worried.
Taehyung hadn't shown up. Something was wrong.
Only then had Namjoon set into motion the plan he'd been forming for the past five minutes. "Jin, keep them here and out of sight. Yoongi, and I are going to have a call put over the loudspeaker."
He'd barely turned on his heel when the first strains of the chant had reached him, and Namjoon had felt his blood run cold.
That was their BTS chant. That was BTS fans.
En masse and overly excited.
And Tae was out there alone.
The nightmare scenario played through his mind in technicolour; security pulling Tae from within the writing mass of overzealous fans, distraught and panic-stricken, clothing torn and littered with scratches and bruises…
Namjoon dropped his bag and ran.
Shoving his way into the throng of travellers in the main thoroughfare, Namjoon swivelled his head, trying to pinpoint the direction of the noise-
Wait.
They'd heard this chant a thousand times.
It wasn't right.
Namjoon stilled, listening "…ngi! Jung Hoseok! Park Jimin! Jeon Jungkook! We've found Kim Taehyung! "Kim Namjoon! Kim Seokjin! Min Yoongi! Jung Hoseok! Park Jimin! Jeon Jungkook! We've found Kim Taehyung! "Kim Namjoon! Kim Seokjin! Min Yoongi! Jung Hoseok! Park Jimin! Jeon Jungkook! We've found Kim Taehyung!"
There it was again, at the end. Namjoon was sure they were saying 'We've found Kim Taehyung'.
"What the hell?" he heard from his left shoulder- Yoongi. Namjoon turned to look; naturally, all five had followed him. "Are they-?" The older rapper continued, and Jin nodded, replying "Yeah, but I can't tell where it's coming from - "
And then, like a star rising in the night sky, a very familiar blond head suddenly appeared above the rest of the crowd, some fifty feet away.
A wave of overwhelming relief swept through Namjoon, leaving him unexpectedly jittery.
Taehyung had only been missing for 10 minutes, but it had felt like hours. And suddenly there he was, appearing whole and unharmed… Namjoon started forward, aware of the rest following closely behind, impatient to collect their wayward maknae.
They stopped only meters away, half concealed behind a billboard. The huge crowd of fans standing behind Taehyung, still chanting, gave them pause. Namjoon didn't know what to make of it, but- They had helped him find Tae. And Tae-
Taehyung was standing balanced on the edge of a large potted plant, obviously so as to be high enough to be spotted by concerned teammates, and Namjoon had no idea how he had gotten up there.
He had one arm wrapped around his torso, the other half-concealing his face.
His ears were pink though, and Namjoon was pretty sure his cheeks would match. Taehyung didn't embarrass easily per-se, but he did flush quite pink when he was emotionally charged (of any disposition, pleased or displeased).
Which was to say, often enough.
Namjoon shook his head, unable to help smiling. Taehyung was really all too charming most of the time, which, coupled with his youthful exuberance and inherent cheerfulness, probably accounted for 90% of the current situation.
But Tae also looked upset. He was doing a good job of hiding it, small smile hovering about his lips beneath the shadow of his arm; but Namjoon knew this kid so well… it was there in the tense way he held himself, curled in slightly to appear smaller. It was there in the way the hand not covering his face was clenching and unclenching in the material of his t-shirt. It was there in the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot, agitated.
Namjoon eyed the fans. Could they? They were being so well behaved. And they had helped Tae, rather than unintentionally hurting him.
Perhaps BTS ought to reward them.
After a brief conversation with their security and managers, Namjoon self-selected himself, both as the leader and as having the best English (and not being ready to have anyone else out of relative safety, even for a moment) leaving the rest of the team, as well as the gathered security, waiting several feet away.
Slowly he approached the group, who were still chanting, no one having noticed the small group of idols standing slightly to their left, half concealed behind a sign advertising luggage. One young woman was standing to the side of the pot plant, and Namjoon approached her, reached out and tapped her on the shoulder.
She turned her head and promptly fell quiet, mouth still open mid-chant. It didn't take long for the wave of silence to spread across the entire group, as each person passed the pandemic to the one besides, until finally, Namjoon had 200 pairs of wide disbelieving eyes pinned to him.
He took a deep breath and smiled.
"Excuse me, we seem to have misplaced our Taehyung. You wouldn't happen to have seen one, would you?" He asked, still looking at the young woman who seemed to be the leader of Operation 'help Kim Taehyung'.
Before the star-struck fan even had a chance to attempt to form an answer, Namjoon heard a soft gasp from above and then, "Hyung!" and Tae was attempting to scramble down from his perch.
The pot wasn't all that conducive to standing on, having only a thin edge and a large palm tree jutting from the centre, but Tae had made it work for him. He wasn't making getting down work for him, wobbling and holding onto the tree trunk for balance as he tried to get low enough to slide down the pot-
Namjoon sighed, shaking his head at the ridiculous man-child that was his second youngest.
"Kim Taehyung, don't you even think about jumping…." Namjoon exclaimed, when it looked like Taehyung was about to do exactly that. Tae looked up at him with huge beseeching eyes, and Namjoon sighed, taking the two steps forward and turning his back.
He felt Tae practically launched himself forward, and an arm looped about his neck, grip sinking into his jacket collar on the far side as the younger allowed his legs to be hooked up on each side, settling around Namjoon's waist.
Namjoon grinned at the still mostly silent fan group and simply dipped his head, aware of the smatterings of giggles and squeals, and the flash of cameras that told him that the strange stupor was beginning to wear off – he turned to leave before they could turn back into the slightly crazed, super excited fans that he was used to interacting with.
This whole experience had been bizarre. Perhaps it was time to expand his research on the Taehyung Effect?
Speaking of which, Taehyung suddenly seemed to shake himself, and with a small exclamation of sudden mindfulness, he turned to look back over his shoulder, calling out "Thankyou! Luv you!"
Aish. How was this kid real?
Namjoon considered letting him down, now that they were back on flat ground, but Tae chose that moment to slump forward, his head thumping to a rest against Namjoon's shoulder. Shrugging, Namjoon piggybacked his recently re-acquired second maknae through the LAX terminal, back to the rest of their waiting family.
Taehyung was still quiet.
It was very, very unusual, not to mention extremely unsettling.
They'd been shuffled off to a suite in one of the LAX hotels, their managers leaving them to try and work out other travel arrangements, now that flights had officially been cancelled for the near foreseeable future, the promised inclement weather having arrived as predicted.
Namjoon was to the point, that while still objectively disappointed that they probably weren't going to make it home by Christmas this year, he was so exhausted, physically and mentally drained, that the idea of an available bed right now was a really good second option; one he was willing to take.
It seemed most of the team was of a similar mind, because Jungkook and Jimin were curled up on the top of one of the two available bunks, smothered in blankets and deeply asleep, only the barest tufts of Jungkook's dark hair visible.
Below them, Yoongi was also dead to the world, his headphones half hanging off, Namjoon able to hear the faints strains of melody.
J-hope hadn't even made it to a bed, instead still asleep on the couch, where he'd sat when they'd entered the room an hour or so ago. Jin had been kind enough to tip the dancer over onto his side, and drape a blanket over him before he too had collapsed into the other top bunk; Namjoon can hear his soft snuffling snores, more a whuffling breath than anything else.
Namjoon would really like to join them, to make use of that last available bunk.
Except Taehyung was still seated on the padded window seat, hand propped on his chin as he stared out the window at the falling snow, practically oozing disquiet.
They hadn't been able to get much out of him. He'd apologised, more than once, for making them miss the plane, seemingly unable to accept the fact that no one blamed him. He'd said something about getting turned around in the huge crowd and being unable to find his way, being unable to remember the gate number, and Namjoon had accepted that. It had been incredibly busy and confusing and they'd all been ridiculously tired.
Like he was now.
Namjoon sighed again.
Quiet Taehyung was unsettling, but melancholy Taehyung was disturbing.
It was nearing 2 am though, and this was getting beyond ridiculous.
Namjoon got up from his seat by J-hope's feet, running a hand over the dark head as he walked the length of the couch. Tae looked up as he approached, seeming surprised to see him awake, despite the fact that they'd been in the same room the whole time.
Namjoon dropped into a squat beside him, one hand on the window sill, the other grasping the seat beside Tae.
Start gently. "Hey TaeTae, are you going to try and get some sleep soon? It's getting really late." He asked, gesturing to the empty bunk. Tae glanced up slowly, following his movement and then shrugged, turning to look back out the window.
Huh.
Try again. "Really Taehyungie, it's 2 am. I think you should go to bed." Namjoon tried, a slightly firmer tone to his voice that Taehyung usually chose to follow or ignore depending entirely on the situation and what he thought he could get away with.
Taehyung ignored him.
Namjoon was too tired to deal with this tonight (this morning). So was Taehyung, his eyes bloodshot and encircled with dark bruise-like shadows.
No more Mr Nice Guy. "Bedtime Taehyung, now.", and Namjoon reached out, his hand finding Taehyung's arm as he stood, intent on simply dragging him across to whichever bed was closest and folding him into it, sure that once he was horizontal, and no doubt snuggled by whoever he ended up with, the brat would fall asleep and everything would look better come morning.
He wasn't expecting Taehyung to pull away sharply, a hiss of pain escaping through clenched teeth.
Taehyung immediately tried to cover the reaction with anger, biting out scathingly, "If you're so tired, you go to bed. Leave me the hell alo-!"
Namjoon's hand covered his mouth and he leant in close enough to hiss, "I swear Kim Taehyung, if you wake the others up…" Tae had the good grace to look ashamed, his eyes darting around the beds before dropping to the floor as he swallowed thickly.
Namjoon dropped his eyes to Taehyung's arms, noting the tight cuff at the base of the sleeves, and the lack of buttons. Without saying anything, he reached out and tugged the waistband of Tae's shirt from beneath him, and then ignoring the startled half-formed protest, he pulled it up, over his head, and off. "Shush- show me your arm" Namjoon continued quietly, all irritation gone from his voice, only softly determined concern left as he spoke over Taehyung's reluctance.
If the brat had had any intention of revealing whatever was causing the flinching tenseness and bitten lip as Namjoon rolled the sleeve down as gently as possible, he'd had hours to do so. As far as he was concerned, the younger had lost the privilege of his trust tonight.
They all knew injuries were not to be messed about with.
But still, he knew that Taehyung had had an awful evening, and couldn't bring himself to be too mad. Especially when he saw the black and blue mottling starting to crawl its way from Taehyung's elbow, up and down the back of his arm. The bruising was vicious.
"Aish, TaeTae- what the hell happened?" He breathed, carefully pulling the rest of the sleeve off and dropping the shirt to the seat beside the boy.
Taehyung sighed and seemed to give in, "I got knocked over at the airport and landed on it- that's how I got lost."
Namjoon eyed the bruising, noting that the swelling seemed minimal and Tae wasn't having much trouble moving it, "I think it's just bruised, but we'll get it looked at in the morning. It's too late for icing it to help, but let's find you a t-shirt so there's nothing pressing on it, huh?"
Namjoon raided the nearest bag, Yoongi's maybe, and came up with a plain black T-shirt which he dragged over Tae's head and helped him thread his arm through. "You should have said something", was all the reprimand he offered.
Taehyung just nodded, eyes downcast, lips pressed together in a thin line.
"No one is upset with you Tae. I mean it. Yes, it sucks that we missed the plane, but it wasn't your fault. It just happened." Namjoon re-iterated, hoping repetition might be the key to getting the message to stick.
Tae looked at him sidelong for a stretching moment and the replied, voice low and quiet, almost inaudible, "You're just saying that! I'd be mad. I am mad. You should have left without me – you'd all be home now."
Namjoon stared at him, and then swept him in for a hug, ignoring the startled squeak as he replied, "Not a chance. At the risk of sounding incredibly corny and sappy and I'm going to deny this tomorrow- but it wouldn't have been home without you anyway, TaeTae. "
Taehyung snorted through a tumultuous grin at that, so Namjoon counted it a win.
"Seriously though", he continued, pushing Teahyung away a little, tilting his chin up so their eyes met, "There was every bit as much chance that we could be here in this motel tonight because of Kookie getting mobbed, rather than you going missing, Tae. Or it could have been when Jiminie misplaced his passport this morning. It was just good luck and a particular someone's quick thinking that managed to help Kookie. But would have you been mad at Kookie if he had got cornered and we'd missed the plane because of him?"
Taehyung's answering head shake was immediate, and Namjoon pointed out the obvious, "No one blames you either. It was an accident that you got knocked over and couldn't find us in time. We were all really worried, you know- all we cared about was that you came back safe. Okay?"
Teahyung finally nodded.
Namjoon felt a tension that had been building all night, finally ease, replying, "Good- we can talk more about it the morning Tae, and the others will all agree, I guarantee it: no one blames you; we're all just glad you're okay. Now, I really think we should try and get some sleep. I think we're going to have to be bunkmates unless you want to climb up with Jin-hyung, or Yoongi-hyung I suppose, if you're willing to risk your life."
They were both asleep five minutes later, Taehyung's arm propped carefully out of the way on a cushion on Namjoon's stomach.
Epilogue:
The next afternoon, during their miracle private charter flight that manager-nim had somehow conned from a friend, Jimin would find the footage online.
Tae, one arm carefully wrapped and tucked in front of himself (badly bruised and very painful) would hide his blushing face behind one hand as the others cooed and fussed over the video as much as any of the online fans.
It was a 12-second replay of the instant that Taehyung had turned after hearing the fangirls behind him at the airport.
He stared from the screen, eyes huge and bottomless, some fathomless unknown worry leaving them dark and startled. He'd then bitten his lower lip and tilted his head just so.
And from then, every heart looking on belonged to him.
