Strawberries &' Ciggerates~
Ep 01 : The Smell of Smoke
“𝑅𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑡? 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑, ‘𝐿𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒.’”
—𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒 𝑆𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑛
The air was sticky, thick with the kind of humidity that made even breathing feel heavy. Taehyung stepped out of his car slowly, hands in his pockets, and just looked.
The streets hadn’t changed much. The cracked sidewalks, the faded yellow lines, the corner store with its flickering neon sign. All of it looked smaller than he remembered, but somehow.. sharper.
Every memory felt bigger than the space it occupied.
He took a deep breath, letting the smell of summer, salt, and something else– faint, lingering, almost familiar, fill his lungs. Smoke. Old smoke.
Boxes were stacked haphazardly near the porch, waiting. He hadn’t touched them yet. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t sure he could. The house, his father’s house, smelled like old wood, dust, and faint lavender– probably leftover from his mother’s little sachets, long gone. But underneath all of that, there was another scent.
Something that made his chest tighten.
Inside, it was quiet, except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan. Sunlight spilled through the half-open curtains, falling across the floor in rectangles.
And then he saw it: a faded hoodie draped over the arm of a chair. Frayed cuffs. A small strawberry patch stitched on the sleeve. He froze mid-step, fingers brushing against the doorway frame.
The patch was familiar. Too familiar. And so was the faint scent of strawberry lip balm that seemed to cling to it… mixed with smoke.
His heart caught in a way it hadn’t in years.
A sudden slam outside made him jump. Headlights cut jagged rectangles across the floor.
Older. Broader. Leaner. But the same dark, sharp eyes that had haunted Taehyung’s dreams for years. That quiet, magnetic energy he could never forget.
He leaned casually against his car, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a cigarette loosely between two fingers.
Taehyung’s stomach flipped. Memories slammed into him in waves.
That summer they spent sneaking out, racing bikes down these very streets, sharing laughter that felt too loud in the quiet town. The nights spent under flickering streetlights, holding hands behind the corner store, passing a cigarette back and forth like some secret pact.
He hadn’t expected to see him again. Maybe he thought the town had swallowed Jungkook up, that the years had smoothed out every corner of memory. But there he was. Present. Waiting.
Neither spoke for a long moment. The silence was thick, heavy, charged. The smoke from Jungkook’s cigarette curled upward, catching the late afternoon sun, and Taehyung could almost swear he smelled strawberry mixed in, just like old times.
Jeon Jungkook
“You didn’t just come back for the boxes,”
Jungkook said finally, voice quiet but steady, just enough to make Taehyung’s heart lurch.
Kim Taehyung
“I… I didn’t,” Taehyung admitted, though the words sounded thin in the still air.
The hoodie on the chair shifted slightly as Taehyung’s gaze fell back to it. It looked smaller somehow, more fragile.
He wanted to reach out, touch it, fold it, take it with him — but he didn’t. His hands remained in his pockets, trembling slightly.
Jungkook’s eyes softened, though he didn’t move.
Jeon Jungkook
“It’s been a long time.”
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung nodded. “Yeah. Too long.”
He remembered every moment: the stolen kisses under the bleachers, the late-night runs with hearts racing and lungs burning, the way their fingers always found each other in the dark.
And that night, the night everything ended, replayed itself in his mind like a film reel he couldn’t pause.
But now, standing here, years later, it was different. The town hadn’t changed much, but they had. Time had pressed them into shapes they didn’t recognize entirely. And yet.. some part of that old spark lingered.
A dog barked somewhere down the street. A motorcycle revved far away. The soft buzz of cicadas filled the air.
Taehyung took a tentative step forward. The air smelled like summer and smoke and strawberries, and he realized, with a sudden ache, that some things never left.
Kim Taehyung
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally whispered.
Jungkook shrugged, but there was a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips.
Jeon Jungkook
“Then don’t say anything. Just… stay a minute.”
And for the first time in years, Taehyung did.
He let the silence stretch. He let the memories come. He let the scent of smoke and strawberries wrap around him like a fragile thread connecting the past to the present.
It was soft. It was painful. But it was home.
Ep 02 : Summer Ghosts
“𝑆𝑜 𝐼 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑑
𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑟𝑎𝑛..”
—𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒 𝑆𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑛
The sky was painted in that sleepy gold that happens before evening swallows everything.
Taehyung stood outside the house, a cigarette between his fingers, watching smoke curl into the air like a slow confession. The air hummed. Not loud, just heavy, with the kind of quiet only small towns seem to hold.
He hadn’t planned on smoking again. It was one of those habits he thought he’d left behind along with everything else from here.
But standing there, leaning against the porch rail, he realized some ghosts only answered to smoke.
He took another drag. The burn felt both foreign and familiar.
Behind him, the door creaked open. Jungkook’s voice, deeper now, still soft at the edges, slipped through the stillness.
Jeon Jungkook
“Didn’t think you’d still remember how.”
Taehyung glanced back, a smile tugging faintly at his mouth.
Kim Taehyung
“Didn’t think you’d still be here to see it.”
Jungkook leaned against the doorway, a half-smile ghosting over his lips.
Jeon Jungkook
“You say that like you expected me to disappear.”
Kim Taehyung
“I kind of did,” Taehyung admitted quietly.
For a moment, Jungkook said nothing. The silence was thick, not awkward.. more like it was filled with everything they hadn’t said in years. The cicadas buzzed. Somewhere down the street, a car honked, faint and distant.
Jeon Jungkook
“Want some help with the house tomorrow?” Jungkook asked finally.
Kim Taehyung
“You offering?”
Jungkook shrugged, eyes flicking to the cigarette.
Jeon Jungkook
“Might as well. Can’t let you burn the place down.”
Taehyung huffed a small laugh, exhaling smoke.
Kim Taehyung
“Wouldn’t be the first time we lit something on fire.”
That pulled a real smile from Jungkook.. small, but warm.
Later that night, after Jungkook left, Taehyung found himself lying awake in his old bedroom. The ceiling looked the same, cracks spiderwebbing out from the fan like a map of everything he used to dream about escaping.
He turned on his side, facing the window.
The streetlight outside flickered just like it used to.
And suddenly he wasn’t twenty-four anymore.
He was seventeen, barefoot on the back porch, clutching a pack of strawberry gum in one hand and a lighter in the other. Jungkook was beside him, his grin wide and reckless, a cigarette balanced on his lips.
Jungkook/17'
“Light me up?”
Jungkook had said that night, voice teasing.
Taehyung/17'
“You don’t even like smoking,” Taehyung had replied, biting back a smile.
Jungkook had said, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost against Taehyung’s skin.
Jungkook/17'
“but I like watching you do it.”
Taehyung remembered the way his chest had tightened, how the air had suddenly felt too small, too charged.
He remembered the tremor in his fingers as he flicked the lighter.. that single spark that lit the edge of something far more dangerous than a cigarette.
They’d spent that whole summer like that– teetering on the edge of something unspoken, daring the world not to notice.
Sneaking out past midnight, meeting at the hill behind the old gas station, sharing music through a single pair of earbuds, breathing laughter and smoke in equal measure.
It wasn’t love.. not then, not out loud. But it was something. Something that made every heartbeat louder, every night longer.
And when Taehyung thought about it now, years later, it was that same heat he felt in his chest.
Like the air itself still remembered.
A soft knock pulled him back. He blinked, realizing the sound wasn’t a dream.
Jungkook’s voice came quietly from the other side of the door.
Jeon Jungkook
“Left your lighter outside,” he said.
Taehyung sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
Kim Taehyung
“Oh. Thanks.”
When he opened the door, Jungkook was there. Hair damp from a shower, a loose black tee clinging to his shoulders. He held the lighter between his fingers, that same easy half-smile on his lips.
Taehyung took it, their fingers brushing for just a second, not long enough to mean something, but long enough to remember that it once did.
Jeon Jungkook
“Night,” Jungkook said softly.
Kim Taehyung
“Night,” Taehyung whispered back.
When the door clicked shut again, Taehyung sat back against it, staring at the lighter in his hand. It was small, worn, the metal warm from Jungkook’s touch.
And suddenly, the air felt like seventeen again..
the same smoke, the same heartbeat,
the same boy he never really stopped thinking about.
Ep 03 : Cigarette Breaks
“𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑟
'𝐶𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑘𝑒𝑦𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟..”
—𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒 𝑆𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑛
The morning sunlight poured through the kitchen window in uneven stripes, dust drifting through the air like it had nowhere else to be.
Taehyung leaned against the counter, half-asleep, the mug in his hand long since gone cold.
He wasn’t used to mornings here anymore. The silence, the sound of a lone crow outside, the way time felt slower somehow.
He’d planned to clean the place alone today.
But when he opened the front door, Jungkook was already there.
Casual as ever. One hand holding a paper bag, the other stuffed into his hoodie pocket.
Jeon Jungkook
“Brought breakfast,” he said simply.
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung blinked. “You… woke up early for this?”
Jeon Jungkook
“Couldn’t sleep.”
Jungkook’s smile was small, almost shy.
Jeon Jungkook
“And you looked like you’d skip it if I didn’t.”
Inside, they ate in quiet, just the occasional sound of forks against plates, birds outside, the faint hum of the fridge.
It wasn’t awkward, exactly. Just careful.
Like they were both trying to figure out where they fit after all this time.
Jungkook said finally, breaking the silence.
Jeon Jungkook
“You gonna start on the attic today?”
Kim Taehyung
“Probably. It’s a mess up there. I’ll need another set of hands.”
Jeon Jungkook
“That your way of asking for help?” Jungkook teased, eyebrows raising.
Kim Taehyung
“More like giving you something to do instead of staring at me.”
Jeon Jungkook
“Who said I was–”
Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, realizing the trap. He laughed under his breath, low and warm.
For a moment, it felt easy again. Like breathing in summer air.
By late afternoon, the house had turned into chaos. Dust, boxes, old books. Pieces of another lifetime scattered everywhere.
Jungkook’s shirt was streaked with gray from where he’d wiped his hands, hair sticking to his forehead.
Taehyung watched him from the other side of the room, trying not to let his eyes linger too long.
It was strange.. how familiarity could ache.
Jeon Jungkook
“Hey, remember this?”
Jungkook called, holding up an old photo frame
Inside was a faded picture. Two teenagers sitting on a bike, summer sun behind them, smiles caught mid-laugh.
Taehyung felt something twist in his chest.
Kim Taehyung
“You still had that?”
Jeon Jungkook
“Guess your dad kept it.” Jungkook’s gaze softened. “You look the same, you know.”
Kim Taehyung
Taehyung huffed a quiet laugh. “I look older.”
Jeon Jungkook
“Yeah,” Jungkook said, eyes flicking toward him, “but still you.”
Silence again. That kind that isn’t uncomfortable, just full.
Later, when the sun started to dip, they ended up sitting outside on the porch steps.
Jungkook lit a cigarette, then handed it to Taehyung without looking.
Taehyung hesitated before taking it, fingers brushing his in the exchange.
Kim Taehyung
“You still smoke this brand,” he murmured.
Jeon Jungkook
“Only sometimes,” Jungkook said. “When I miss… things.”
Taehyung took a drag, slow. The smoke burned just enough to sting.
Jungkook didn’t answer right away. He leaned back, eyes following the smoke curling upward.
Jeon Jungkook
“Not what,” he said finally. “Who.”
That single word settled between them like ash.
Taehyung’s throat felt dry. He wanted to say something. Anything. But the words wouldn’t come.
The sun dipped lower, painting Jungkook’s face in gold. The quiet hum of the world filled the space they didn’t know how to fill with words.
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook smiled faintly. “You still overthink everything, huh?”
Kim Taehyung
“Maybe,” Taehyung replied, looking down. “But at least I don’t say everything I think.”
Kim Taehyung
“Yeah,” Jungkook said softly. “That’s the problem.”
Taehyung glanced up, startled, but Jungkook was already standing, brushing ash off his jeans, the last of his cigarette glowing faintly.
Jeon Jungkook
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice lighter this time.
Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook turned, half-smiling. “Told you I’d help with the house, didn’t I?”
And just like that, he was gone again. Leaving only the faint smell of smoke, the sound of his footsteps fading down the street, and the taste of something Taehyung wasn’t ready to name.
He sat there long after the sun disappeared,
watching the ember of his cigarette fade to nothing,
thinking about how some people leave..
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