lovestrippedbare | 𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕪

Entry tags:

yoongi

𝕡𝕠𝕝𝕪𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕪

The world feels like it's been a little dimmer since Monday. Generally, Jungkook isn't the type to let himself be too affected by his environment — he'd sooner be the one assessing it from a distance, rather than get caught up in all of its complexity — but ever since becoming friends with his hyungs, more and more of their moods start to siphon in. He's aware, albeit distantly, when they're sad. Feels their anger and frustration as if they were his own. There are times when it gets to be too much, and Jungkook will always take the time to step away, make sure that he can breathe and feel the ground beneath his feet. But there are times when, no matter how much the earth shifts, he feels like he has to watch.

He's not sure why he always feels like he's holding his breath, waiting for the dissolution.

Yesterday went better than expected, Jungkook thinks. To see Jimin's smile as they sat on the train, taking it to the edge of the country, where they could watch the open sea and the planes taking off into the sky. Even if Jungkook knows that he wasn't able to erase all of the shadows from Jimin's mind, there are times when lifting the burden feels like enough of a success. As long as they can get to the next day, and the next still, there will come a time when all of them will be strong enough to shrug everything off, should they need. Jungkook has to believe that.

He knows that there's a bit of a risk in being out so late three nights now in a row, and he's done his best to keep a close eye on his father whenever at home, assessing his moods. This week seems to be a peaceful one, and not knowing when that grace will end, Jungkook takes advantage of it at once. He's long since learned that things like this can be unpredictable, and the only way to ensure happiness is to grasp at it whenever it's within reach.

And he is happy, enjoying the quiet companionship in Yoongi's room, hours of piano practice behind them now. They're mostly working on homework, which isn't as hard to focus on now than it was a week ago.

As being the key word.

Jungkook figures that he's finished enough for the night — he might regret later not working ahead, but for now, everything he needs to present to his teacher the next day is more or less done, and so he slides the notebook away and drops his pen with a flourish. A few steps easily carry him to the bed, and he sits down on the edge of the mattress, holding his arms out in Yoongi's direction.

"I finished, and I'd like to claim my reward," he declares softly, tilting his head with a smile.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jungkook tilts his head up for a kiss, the motion as easy as breathing now, with the two of them always able to find each other without a need for verbal communication. He whines a little when Yoongi pulls away, even though it's only for the purpose of asking him more specifically what he'd like, and glances briefly at his lock screen for the time. It's earlier than he expected, considering that dinner feels like it was a while ago already.

"I guess if it's my reward, I should be the one to pick, huh," Jungkook muses with a small nod, wiggling his feet a little as he sits. Tempting though it is to reach out and start teasing along the hem of Yoongi's shirt, Jungkook suspects that those ideas might leave him falling asleep a little earlier than he'd like.

And as much as he loves sleep, it's the conversations with Yoongi that Jungkook finds himself missing while they're in class. The quiet, wakeful companionship.

"...on second thought, can I ask for cuddles now and claim my reward later?" he suggests, pushing himself slightly off the mattress to press a quick peck to Yoongi's nose.

Edited 2018-12-12 03:55 (UTC)

Yoongi lets out a huff of a laugh at the quick kiss, wrinkling up his nose after. "That sounds like two rewards," he says in mock-protest, pulling away so he can sit on the bed beside Jungkook. "But I guess I can allow it." Even if he weren't only playing when it comes to this reward idea, he wouldn't be able to say no. It's hard to say no to that sweet face. Besides, he finished his homework, too. They deserve a reward each, and if their rewards happen to involve each other, that can't be helped.

Leaning over, he presses a kiss to Jungkook's cheek, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "Come on," he says, "come lie down with me." He tugs gently, leaning back and to the side, angling towards the pillows. Even if they don't do anything for a while, he likes this part, the quiet comfort of just being together. He's never been inclined to chatter as much as his friends, but it's easy like this, safe to say whatever comes to mind in a way he's not sure it has been since he was very small and didn't know any better. It's been a couple of days since they had this anyway, and he just wants to curl up in Jungkook's arms.

"Like you wouldn't enjoy it just as much as me," Jungkook points out with a wrinkle of his own nose, pouting at being made to plead. The kiss on the cheek helps to mollify his hurt pride, and Jungkook follows Yoongi's tug readily, flopping onto his side and immediately reaching out to throw his arm over Yoongi's waist. Sometimes, it feels like he could lose countless hours just like this, the two of them quietly laying side by side — no words needed. He drinks in the details, already so clear in his memory but it's never enough, infinite angles and lighting yet to be explored.

Jungkook raises a hand, gently tracing fingertips from cheekbone to chin, sweeping briefly over the corner of Yoongi's mouth. His smile widens; he can't help himself.

"I missed you these past couple of days," Jungkook admits, pursing his lips. "I know I get to see you at school, but it's not the same."

Yoongi sighs, eyes fluttering briefly shut as he smiles. The smallest touches, the littlest gestures, end up meaning everything, details to tuck away and pull out again when he has to sleep alone or get through a difficult class. He's had more and more trouble sleeping the last few months, but at least when Jungkook is here, it's easier. There's something about being held that helps, though he's not sure if it's the body heat or the sense of security or even just the sound of Jungkook's breathing in his ear. For the other nights, there are moments like this to remember and relive.

"I know," he murmurs, smiling wistfully as he looks over again. "I just want to be here with you all the time." School felt simpler before this. He didn't know what he was missing and he didn't have to pretend so much. When he sees Jungkook in the halls now, it's hard not to pull him close and kiss him, grateful for whatever little moments they get together during the day. He's pretty sure he's not very good at hiding that, but at least no one has said anything yet that he's heard. Still, school takes up too many hours of the day, time he should be spending right here. "It's good, though, that you weren't here yesterday. That you were with Jimin. It seems like he needs that."

He isn't sure exactly what's going on with the other boy and he's not sure how to approach it either, doesn't want to overwhelm Jimin, but at least Jungkook can. The two of them have always been closer than Yoongi is to Jimin anyway. Maybe he'll feel comfortable confiding in Jungkook in a way he couldn't with Yoongi beyond those few words that have stuck with him.

He should have fucking said something.

Jungkook traces his fingers over the smile, at the soft dip in Yoongi's cheek just past the lips. No matter how many times he tries, he can never quite seem to get that smile on paper. He'd try to get it on camera, but even that feels off somehow, the camera an intruder in their midst. Maybe there's simply no capturing moments like this in any tangible way, lending a quiet undercurrent of desperation during the times they're apart.

The smile fades a moment later, vanished from under Jungkook's touch, as Yoongi mentions Jimin. Jungkook's stomach twists with it; he'd been meaning to bring up the subject, but in some ways it felt almost like it'd be cruel to do so after their time apart. That Yoongi brings it up is a quiet relief, and Jungkook lets his hand slide back down to Yoongi's waist, anchoring them both.

"I don't know how much I actually helped," Jungkook admits, letting out a slow, steady exhale. "Every time he says something bad about himself, I want to tell him that he's wrong, but... it's never that easy to change the way we feel, right? And then I got to telling him that he's not the only one who feels that way, but then it just feels like I'm calling attention to myself."

He presses his cheek more deeply against the pillow, watching Yoongi's expression. "How do I know what someone really needs?"

Yoongi is quiet, considering that for a few moments. Jungkook is so earnest, so serious, and he wants to give the best answer he can. The problem is, there isn't much of an answer to give. "I don't know," he says. "I'm not sure... I mean, I don't even know what I need. How could you? I doubt Jimin knows."

It doesn't help much at all, he's pretty sure, but he can't be helpful if he's not honest. With the way Jimin hesitated to say anything before, he doubts the other boy is sure what he needs or wants, except maybe to feel less alone. That would be Yoongi's guess, at least. It's what he wants so often. He can't be the only one.

"Telling him that... It's a good thing." He rests his hand against Jungkook's neck, runs it slowly down to his shoulder. "So he doesn't feel like the only one. It's good." Even if it didn't help right away, maybe it's something Jimin will come back to and find comfort in later. He just wishes he could do something more immediate.

The concept of need is, in some ways, one that Jungkook suspects keeps him apart from the others. He can't profess to be lacking in anything — his mother is doting, his friends good company, and even the teachers who get on his case seem to be doing so in Jungkook's interest. Now, with a partner who makes him feel loved, Jungkook feels that there isn't much he wants for. Any doubts he has, any moments of weakness, those are his own to resolve. Most of the time, he thinks he manages well.

With Jimin, it feels different.

With Yoongi, Jungkook finds himself terrified of the day when he might not be enough.

"I hope you're right," he says quietly, gaze dropping for a moment, focused on the soft brush of Yoongi's hand against his neck. Jungkook thinks about buying train tickets, about the way Jimin asked if they could pick a one-way trip. Maybe, Jungkook thinks, there's something about this place that Jimin needs to escape as well.

His thumb traces small circles against Yoongi's side, lazily widening in radius.

"You don't know what you need?" Jungkook asks after a pause.

This time when Yoongi is quiet, it's not because he doesn't know the answer. It's because he wants to give an answer that won't make Jungkook feel bad, and he's not sure he can do that and still be honest. Whatever this is inside of him, eating away at him, he doesn't know if there's something that will stop it, doesn't know where to start.

"I need you," he says softly. "That's all I really know." At least when Jungkook is around, the voice is quieter, sometimes even disappears. Being loved like this, it's easier to tell himself there are still parts of him worth loving. It doesn't make everything go away. Even these last few days, when he's been happier than he can remember ever being, it's not like it's gone. But even quiet is a relief. Jungkook gives him that. The hand at his waist, those serious eyes on him, they steady him now in a way he's not sure anything else does.

Somehow, the answer doesn't feel complete. Even though the vast majority of the time they've spent together in the past couple of weeks has been exhilarating, Jungkook isn't quite naive enough to assume that he's enough of a salve for all of the pain Yoongi might feel. More to the point, he doesn't feel capable enough to be that, either. Couldn't be, if moments like this, with Yoongi retreating deep into that gaze, his words quiet and distant, are already enough to make fear settle in Jungkook's chest.

He's afraid that he won't understand in time. That something might strike when they least expect it. It's a feeling that extends to the whole of their group, but with Yoongi, sometimes it feels achingly close — a pin positioned right against the heart, easily hidden, all too sharp.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, still tracing circles over Yoongi's skin, not yet reaching for his hand, though the temptation is there. "When you... even if you don't know what you need, do you know anything that helps?"

Yoongi nods. Just talking about this, even vaguely, makes him want to pull close and hide his face against Jungkook's chest, to shut out the rest of the world. Tonight has already been tiring and it all feels a little closer to the surface than he would like. But hiding won't change that and it won't let him give Jungkook the honest answers he deserves, even if Yoongi feels like sharing them is still just imparting a burden he can't take back.

"Music," he says. "Just play it out as much as I can. Sleep. But sometimes I can't. Talking to someone. Not as good at that either." He's been trying, at least a little, these last few weeks. It's hard, though, to confide in someone knowing he's only going to make them feel bad if he does so. Turning to Hoseok just means making the other boy worry, and he's never really felt like he could tell Jungkook before. It just seems like too many flaws, too big, to admit to. There's always that lingering suspicion in the back of his head that it's the kind of thing that drives people away. But he knows better now, at least, than to think Jungkook will be easily scared off.

Talking to someone. Not as good at that either.

The image conjures itself up easily — Yoongi with that look in his eyes, laying on his bed, staring at the wall. Focusing overly much on the ticking of the clock. Trapped with thoughts that are bound by that silence, that circle and circle without reprieve. Jungkook can't claim to know exactly how it feels, but perhaps he's known moments that bear some similarity. The nights he's gone to bed with aches all over his body, wondering what it is that he did to deserve it, because surely there must be a reason.

But at least in his case, there's reason to search for. Things he could have done differently, ways in which he isn't good enough. Jungkook can't imagine what it's like, not having something tangible as an anchor.

"You're talking to me now," Jungkook murmurs, shifting his body a little closer and reaching out to cradle the back of Yoongi's head, trying to coax him closer, against the crook of his neck. "I'm really glad that we're talking about it."

Yoongi closes his eyes and lets himself be guided, shifting immediately closer. He burrows close against Jungkook, hides his face against his neck, hands coming up to curl in his shirt, as if he can get smaller and be safer, shrink away from all of this. It doesn't work, he knows that. Still, it feels nice to be held like this. And, as much as he hates the fact of it, it's a little easier to talk if he can't actually see Jungkook's reactions. Discussing this over text would have been too distant, too impersonal when even thinking about it makes him feel far off enough as it is, but seeing his expressions, knowing he might be hurting Jungkook, it's too much.

"It's just hard to," he admits quietly. "It feels selfish. This feels selfish. We're so happy and I'm... It's a burden." He's a burden. That much seems incontrovertible. His father goes through the motions — puts food on the table, pays the rent, gives Yoongi pocket money enough that he should be satisfied — but he doesn't really want him here. Yoongi can tell. If his father could have chosen, he'd have been the one in that fire and his mother would still be alive. He can't even be that angry about it sometimes; sometimes he thinks he'd have made the same choice if he could have. He's cared for out of obligation, not love.

What he has here with Jungkook is so far from that, a real love, a true one. Bringing his stupid problems into that doesn't seem fair. This is supposed to be his safe space away from all that. Except that's not how this works, he knows that. The voice is still there, still came roaring ferociously back tonight, and he can't keep that from Jungkook any more than the other boy can hide his bruises. Yoongi's are just better hidden. That doesn't stop him from wishing that weren't true. He would protect Jungkook even from himself if he could.

He presses a kiss to Jungkook's neck, closes his eyes tighter. "I don't want to be a burden."

Resting his nose against Yoongi's hair, Jungkook smooths his hand over Yoongi's back in wide circles, palm flat and fingers stretched wide. He's never heard this tone of voice from Yoongi before, quiet and almost apprehensive. It's hard not to wonder how many times Yoongi has felt this way before, times when Jungkook didn't notice — or, worse still, didn't reach out. Didn't know how to, as much as he might have wanted.

He tries to remind himself that he's here now, that there's nothing more important than gradually helping Yoongi realize, over time, that he's not going anywhere. That he's not afraid to take bad moments with the good. Jungkook's eyes slide to a close at the brush of lips against his skin, at the soft and heated breath that comes in waves.

"You're not a burden to me," Jungkook murmurs quietly. It feels like a more honest answer than to try and convince Yoongi that he's never a burden to anyone else — it hasn't escaped Jungkook's notice that Yoongi's father has been so absent in the times they've spent together, that there's little more Jungkook ever gets than a glimpse and a brief greeting, if that. The energy is slightly different than that between himself and his stepfather, but there are similarities.

Jungkook has no doubt that his stepfather would rather he not exist. Adults, he's found, are often the most cold.

"I want to be there for you no matter what, in both good times and bad," Jungkook points out, pressing a kiss to the top of Yoongi's head. "It's not selfish to talk about these things. We all support each other, right? I'd rather be here for you than have you do this alone."

Yoongi falls quiet again, taking that in, trying to let the words into his head and his heart as fully as he can. It's the same, he tells himself. It has to be. He wants to be there for Jungkook no matter what, too. There's no reason to doubt that Jungkook wants the same, and he doesn't. It's just that there's this little part of him, this voice, that says He wouldn't want that if he knew what it meant.

But that isn't fair to Jungkook, and somehow that makes it a little easier to fight back. The voice can be as mean as it wants to him, but he can't let it come after Jungkook, too.

"I know," he says finally. "That's what I want, too. To be there for you no matter what." If Jungkook doesn't think he's a burden, then he has to take that at face value, or at least try to. It's hard not to think that he just doesn't know better yet, the same way he always does, this idea in his head that, if any of them knew, they wouldn't want him anymore. It's a lonely thought, but he could handle lonely. It's the cruelty of it that he hates, the way it tries to undermine the only good things he has in his life, tries to sow doubt where none should exist. His friends are better than that. Sometimes he knows that.

He exhales slowly, tries to steady himself. It may feel like a burden to share, but that's what a relationship is, he tells himself, sharing the weight, handling it together. As tempting as it is to hide the darker parts of himself, he can't do that, not from Jungkook. "I just get... scared, I guess, sometimes. For no real reason. And sad."

For no real reason. The phrase echoes in Jungkook's mind, and he finds himself suddenly relieved that Yoongi can't see his expression right now. He can't guarantee that it's strong — he certainly doesn't feel it right now, while faced with phantoms that he has no idea how to combat. Any effort he's made to look up articles and explanations of what to do have fallen short of the reality of hearing the pain in Yoongi's voice, and feeling the uneven flutter of his breath.

"Are there specific things you're afraid of?" Jungkook asks after a lengthy pause, continuing to work his hand over Yoongi's back in circles, occasionally finding a figure eight. It feels like the only way to fill the space while he thinks. "What do you... what do you start thinking about, when it gets bad?"

He's afraid of the answers he might hear. It all suddenly reminds him of a brief conversation they had some time ago, of confirming that some of Yoongi's jokes were off-color. What if they were so close to the tongue because they were thoughts that already sifted through Yoongi's mind countless times? Somehow, it doesn't feel like that would be a stretch.

Jungkook pulls Yoongi a little closer, hand pausing to grasp at the fabric of Yoongi's shirt.

Yoongi lets out a soft sound, a helpless laugh. "So much," he says. Sometimes it feels like he's afraid of everything. Right now, though, with Jungkook holding him tight, soothing him like this, so much of it just feels far away. That he's wasting any time on this when he really is happy seems stupid. It wasn't that far off earlier, though, he reminds himself. Just because he's alright now doesn't mean it won't come hurtling back.

He hates telling the truth about this, though. He's so accustomed to how much these thoughts hurt that he's grown almost numb to it. Jungkook hasn't, and hurting him is the last thing Yoongi ever wants to do. There's a part of him that just wants to brush it off and move on or only tell the smallest parts. That isn't fair, though. They spent too long hiding from each other and he's kept quiet about too much of himself. He doesn't want to do that anymore, at least not here.

So he sighs and takes another deep breath, inhaling the warm, familiar, comforting scent of Jungkook. "I think... that I'm bad," he says slowly. "Wrong. Selfish and not good enough. And one day..." He sighs again, almost laughs, maybe because it isn't funny at all. "One day everyone will figure that out. And then I'll be alone." Even now, he's not sure it isn't at least somewhat true. He's not as good a person as he should be. His mother would have made better use of the time he's been given. Still, the thoughts have changed a little lately. Something else seems almost as certain as the fact that he could be better. "Except for you."

Selfish is the word that sticks out to Jungkook, suddenly recalling a couple of tweets from the other boys. In less than a couple of weeks since they've been together, the other boys have already started to tug a little more on Jungkook's sleeve, as though suddenly Jungkook doesn't have enough time to spare. He hasn't thought much of it until now, figuring that it was mostly jokes — coming from Taehyung and Jimin, he's sure that the two of them are capable of keeping one another company anyway.

But he can see now how easy it would be to twist those words into something sharper, something that cuts a little deeper.

"You're the opposite of selfish, Yoongi-ah," he says softly. "And there's nothing bad in you. Being sad and afraid, those things don't make you bad. You're the one everyone turns to when they need someone smart and dependable. I don't think they'd come to you if you were really selfish. Besides, everyone has selfish thoughts sometimes. It's what they do that really matters, right?"

He presses his lips against Yoongi's hair again, the pressure muffling his words. "At least you know I'm not going to leave you. Not ever. But... the other hyungs, I don't think they'd leave you either. You're an irreplaceable part of the group."

"I hope so," Yoongi murmurs. "You guys are my family." They love him more and better than his father does, at least. Sometimes it's hard not to feel that it's more than he deserves. Jungkook's words help, though, let Yoongi seize on something useful. "But maybe. Actions are more important, aren't they?" If he thinks selfish things or mean things sometimes, maybe the important thing is still that he doesn't act on them. He might want Jungkook to himself, but he would never try to separate him from the others or take up all of his time. He gets angry, but he doesn't hurt anyone. He tries not to, anyway.

He turns over the rest of Jungkook's words in his head and holds tight to them. He can at least admit he's reasonably smart and he tries hard to be dependable. It's difficult sometimes, when he doesn't have the energy or will to be there for someone else, but he tries. That has to count for something, too. It isn't easy, but he's trying to believe that Jungkook is right about him. There must be things about him worth loving, or he wouldn't be here, safe in his arms like this. He's not so good at hiding that he could possibly keep his true nature from Jungkook, so he can't be all bad.

"Maybe it's not that actions are more important," Jungkook muses. It's a good question, given the context, and it takes him a while to figure out exactly how to express what he's feeling in words. To say that actions matter more than intent feels like too much, and unkind to the moments when doubt and fear weigh over desire. If actions really are the most important, then perhaps it's all the more damning for Jungkook, who so rarely takes it in the context of the home.

(But maybe he's just making excuses for himself. Maybe he really is a coward.)

"But actions are the result of all of your thoughts and wishes, right? Even if I want to kick my teacher sometimes, I know that he's just trying to get me ready for my exams, so I don't. Everyone wants to do stupid things sometimes — everyone gets mad." Jungkook threads his fingers through Yoongi's hair, working up a rhythm, following the inhale and exhale of his breath. "But I know you'd never use your anger against me. You'd never try to hurt me."

"True," Yoongi allows. When he would do anything to keep Jungkook safe, he can't imagine ever trying to hurt him. He's less sure if that holds up when he considers the others. Sometimes he wants desperately to lash out at them, for slights both real and, mostly, imagined; but the fact that he doesn't has to mean something. Even if it's because he's afraid doing so would show them how awful he is, it still means something that he doesn't. Maybe what matters isn't so much not having the impulses as it is never following through on them.

And then there's this, being curled up with Jungkook like this, fingers carding gently through his hair, safe, wanted. Maybe not everything he thought was selfish is actually bad. "I guess," he says, slow, feeling out the words, "sometimes it's just... hard to know what's real and what's me lying to myself."

On the very rare occasions when he's let himself talk about this, it's been so difficult. It hurts to admit these things, hurts to imagine how the person he's talking to must feel. If one of his friends told him they felt like this, he knows he would be upset and worried. He's not sure why he mostly just feels like he deserves it. Still, it's a little easier now, a little safer with Jungkook. It still leaves an ache in his chest, but there's something like relief in it, too, at being seen. "It's exhausting."

In some ways, having the distance between them is easier, Jungkook thinks. There's a certain openness between them when they don't have to look into one another's eyes, as much as it pains him to feel that way. He wants for there to be a day when they can speak about this without reservation — when it can be out in the open, less for the sake of being revealed, and more because Yoongi will have come to a point where it isn't so hard anymore. Where he can identify which voices are the demons, and which are the truth. But it'd be naive to expect for either of them to reach that point today, Jungkook knows. He feels like he's only just begun to scratch the surface of what's there, and he can't help the way that shame licks at his cheeks, wondering already if he's going to be enough. If he's strong enough to give Yoongi what he needs.

But there are still moments where Jungkook thinks that having the visual anchor is important, and it's when Yoongi expresses a deep, bone-aching fatigue that Jungkook shimmies partway down the mattress, fingers still threading through Yoongi's hair, until both of them see eye to eye.

"I'll help you figure it out. Figure out what's real," Jungkook says, searching for Yoongi's gaze, his own earnest and unguarded. "This is real. The way that you love me is real. The love you have for the other hyungs, the way you look out for them, the way you always want what's best for them, even if they've hurt you. That's real. Min Yoongi is a good person."

Jungkook reaches for Yoongi's hand, lacing their fingers together with a soft squeeze. "I wouldn't have fallen in love with you if you weren't one."

It's enough to make tears prick at Yoongi's eyes, and he blinks quickly, glancing down, though there's really no hiding it. He can't try for long anyway, not when Jungkook looks at him like that and all he wants is to look into his eyes and rest, to be at peace for just a little while. Even if it only lasts a few minutes, he can try to let himself believe this. Jungkook does, so there must be truth in it. Granted, Jungkook isn't exactly infallible. Still, he's not stupid or blind either. If he sees good, there must be some there.

"This is real," Yoongi echoes, other hand finally relaxing its grip on Jungkook's shirt. Holding his hand, he doesn't have such a need of that as an anchor. There isn't much he's always sure of. Even the best things in his life have their dark sides; the piano reminds him too much of his mother sometimes and there are moments when he worries he's selfish with Jungkook. But the love he feels, that he can hold onto. That he's certain of. And right now, clinging to Jungkook like this, he can believe the rest of it, too. He tries so fucking hard to watch over the others, even if he's not always very good at it, even if they don't always want him to.

"I don't like worrying you," he says after a moment. "And it's better when you're around. I really am happy. That's real, too." It's bad enough to make Jungkook worry over him, but Yoongi can't stand the idea that he might think any of this has been a lie. Just because the voice isn't gone doesn't mean it can stop this love. He doesn't think anything ever could.

Jungkook can feel his own eyes well up briefly at the sight of Yoongi's eyes, too bright and too wet. He can't deny that moments like this scare him. To hear the waver in any of his hyungs' voices — the way Jimin hesitates over the phone, the way Taehyung's anger rolls in like a storm. There's so much in the world that threatens to unseat each of them, and to Jungkook, there's no place that scares him more than with Yoongi. Knowing that his intuition was right, that all these months of watching Yoongi made it possible to pick out the moments where he wasn't fine.

But it's better to have it acknowledged, to have it identified for him. Only then, Jungkook thinks, can he really start to try and help.

"I don't like worrying you, either," Jungkook admits, the corners of his lips quirking. He remembers the rising flicker of Yoongi's anger upon first seeing the bruises on Jungkook's shoulders. There are still a couple, even now, on his lower back. Clumsier hits from a hyung who never has to take responsibility. He doesn't like how visible it all is, how impossible to hide. Doesn't like the strain it places on Yoongi, or the way his hands grow tight without relief.

Even then, Jungkook knows it's better that Yoongi be aware.

"But I'm so happy with you, Yoongi-ah. I'm always happy when I'm with you, no matter how hard things get."

Edited 2018-12-14 05:41 (UTC)

There are so many feelings rolling through Yoongi right now, so many things that layer over each other in ways that don't really make sense. He is happy, and he remembers, too, even after he found out what Jungkook goes through, he's still been happy. This can't be that different. Except that it's more shameful than that. Jungkook can't help what happens to him, but Yoongi should be able to control his own thoughts. And underneath the shame and the hurt, there's relief. It's embarrassing to say these things out loud, but it's good, too, a small bit of his burden eased by being able to share it.

"I want to know," he says softly. "I'd rather worry than not know." Even if it burns him up inside, even if fury threatens to overwhelm him, he can handle that if it means Jungkook doesn't have to be alone. And it's not like he loves Jungkook more than he's loved in return. He meant what he said, how much he loves how much Jungkook cares. So maybe this isn't that different. Maybe it's okay.

Maybe he should stop being a coward and be a little more honest.

"Sometimes it's worse than that. Not for a while now, but. Sometimes." Like everything else, it comes and goes. Most days aren't really that bad, a kind of low ache he's grown used to running underneath everything or a feeling like he's watching everything at a remove. He can handle that, even if he hates it. He lifts Jungkook's hand in his, presses a kiss to the back of it. "This is a terrible reward. I'm sorry."

"I know," Jungkook replies, barely more than a murmur. "I'm not planning on hiding anymore." In some ways, Jungkook still hates the feeling of weakness he gets whenever the bruises see the light of day. Aches he can deal with, the blows as well, but the stain on his skin always remains too long. It'd be one thing to deal with the pain in the moment, but he hates the reminders, hates the fact that he can't even remember the last time there wasn't at least some color marring his skin. Showing that to Yoongi now, the fact that the marks intrude on their intimacy, it still twists something deep inside of Jungkook that he can't quite pinpoint.

But worse than that is the idea of hiding anything from Yoongi, and so he lays it bare, always thinking of the first night Yoongi learned. How in spite of everything, he was still beautiful.

Jungkook wonders if he'll ever be able to Yoongi that same feeling of security. His gaze briefly breaks, given the ready excuse of soft lips to his hand. Yoongi is right; rather than a reward, this conversation feels like work. There's no instant relief. But he has to believe that shining a light on the scars will help down the road, avoiding pitfalls. Learning how to be more present.

"Don't apologize," Jungkook ushers in a whisper, thumb running over Yoongi's knuckle in steady strokes. "...what's it like when it's worse?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject