lovestrippedbare | 𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠

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yoongi

𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠

The phone slips gently from Jungkook's hand, coming to a rest on rumpled sheets as he picks himself up, sliding his legs out of bed. It's hard to remember exactly what he's done over the past couple of days, ever since he returned home from dance practice. Distantly, Jungkook remembers meals. Remembers a slight sheen of sweat over the back of his neck, palms clammy as he sat in front of his parents, in front of Yeongwook, exchanging pleasantries over a family dinner. What he doesn't remember are the more important details — what his father's gaze looked like, whether or not there was any ire. Whether or not anyone noticed, aside from his hyung, how preoccupied Jungkook's been.

He's kept himself busy mostly with small chores around the house, keeping everything clean as a good start to the new year. When he runs out of things to do, Jungkook sleeps. It's the easiest way to pass the time, Jungkook eager to while the hours away until it's reasonable to leave the house again, to see anyone who demands more than his cursory attention.

That the phone rings with Yoongi's tone is both a blessing and a curse. There's no one Jungkook wants to see more, and yet Jungkook also fears what might happen if Yoongi might see him. If a glance will immediately reveal what's wrong. It's not that Jungkook wants to hide anything. He's just tired.

Doesn't want to think about it when there's nothing to be done.

It's been weeks since Jungkook's previous bruises healed, but he detours to the bathroom nonetheless, locking the door before lifting the hem of his shirt to examine his skin in the mirror. Mottled pink and purple stretching across his ribs and abdomen, still fresh and almost pretty, Jungkook thinks in spite of himself. The pattern is different than the one his father usually leaves; Jungkook isn't sure whether or not Yoongi will be able to tell the difference.

Maybe he'll be lucky, Jungkook tells himself, and things will stay out of sight. They're only going shopping, after all. There are a million reasons Jungkook can give for needing to stay at home for dinner, and he's pretty sure Yoongi would understand every one, never holding them against Jungkook. They both know that any obstacles aren't of their own making. Not for the next two years, at least.

He spends the entire walk to Yoongi's house forming excuses and explanations, winding little paths that barely stay within the range of truth, carefully avoiding any direct lie. An unfocused gaze trails lazily after the way his breath fogs in the air, Jungkook's steps keeping him to the side of the path and out of the way of other passersby. By the time he reaches Yoongi's house, Jungkook has decided that the simplest explanation is the best — that his mom asked for him to stay home for dinner today, that he should be there because his dad and brother will both be, and he doesn't like being the only person absent from the roster.

The excuses fly out of his mind seconds later, as soon as Yoongi's door opens, Jungkook's shoulders just a little too tense, his brow a touch too tightly knit. Hands stuffed in his pockets, when he'd rather reach out with them, wrap his arms around Yoongi and hold on until everything else melts away.

"Hey," Jungkook says instead, his smile on the cusp of reaching his eyes.

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Normally, all of the little brushes and tremors are movements that Jungkook revels in, control relinquished in pursuit of connection and desire. This, however, is different. He can see the tremors in Yoongi's jaw, the restlessness of his hands, a deep pallor settling over his complexion, and every one twists at Jungkook's heart. He licks his lips nervously, smoothing palms over Yoongi's cheeks and trying to anchor him in place, as though he might be capable of physically keeping Yoongi's thoughts from wandering too far.

It doesn't really work like that, Jungkook knows. But he wishes it did.

"Yoongi, nothing that ever happens, none of it would be because of you. Understand? None of it is because of you," Jungkook whispers harshly, his voice strained. His fingers stretch along the sides of Yoongi's neck, fingertips nudging just over his jaw. "Please don't — please don't think any of this is your fault. My father's been like this for as long as I've known him. Hyung, too."

His own lips tremble; Jungkook finds himself regretting having brought up the topic. It can't be worth it, seeing the fear in Yoongi's gaze. Yoongi will always worry more than he needs to, more than the situation demands. That's a part of how love works, too.

"But I'll run, okay? Before anything gets that bad, I'll run. We can run together. We'll always make it work," Jungkook insists, eyes wide.

It's not something Yoongi has really thought about, running away. When he thinks of leaving this house, it's either in the context of going away for school or just... disappearing. Stopping. Or else, it'll be because his father forces him out. Now, though, hearing Jungkook say that, he knows he would. He'd pack his things and take off in the night, leave everything behind, if it meant keeping Jungkook safe. He'd do anything. They would figure it out, the two of them, hand in hand. Together.

However they handle this, he tells himself, it'll be together. He's not a liability. He's part of this.

He exhales sharply and nods, lifting a hand to rest at Jungkook's wrist. It doesn't make him any less uneasy about all of this, but it helps to feel like they've got at least the beginnings of a plan, a safety net under them if things go wrong. Maybe he'll start saving more carefully, divide his pocket money between their trip to Busan and saving up in case they have to leave. It'll take longer that way to take their trip, but he'd rather be prepared and know he's doing something. Better that than this, standing here all but shaking, making Jungkook take care of him. It's supposed to be his job to protect Jungkook, not to make him feel worse.

"Okay," he murmurs. "Okay. Together." He sighs, leaning his head into Jungkook's touch. He's still scared, haunted by what-ifs, but there's this, at least, Jungkook's touch, warm and gentle, to remind him he's still here. They're both here, present and whole and unharmed, and maybe things will stay that way. For now, it's enough. "Just try to be safe. I can't lose you."

He's lost too much already. That kind of grief, the way it burrows deep and sinks its claws in — he's not sure he could survive that again.

Something about the moment still feels like a mistake. Maybe it's the way Yoongi's breath still hasn't evened out, slightly ragged and tremulous, unlike the smooth rhythm Jungkook's used to as they sink into sleep together. Maybe it's Yoongi's declarative statement, I can't lose you, that has Jungkook suddenly imagining flames rolling high over walls, wondering how much of this fear stems from already having known the worst kind of loss. Jungkook hates reminding Yoongi of the pain on the best of days, but this must cut deeper than that — not a calm reflection, but instead a sharp apprehension digging away at his chest.

Jungkook closes his eyes for a second, wishing fervently that he could push back time. All those little moments when he stepped into the house with his hand exposed, ring on his finger. How many times his sketchpad was left exposed on his bed. All of them, he'd turn back if he could to keep his brother in the dark.

Jeon Jungkook is too clumsy.

"You won't lose me," Jungkook murmurs, voice calm in contrast with the strain in his chest. He leans in, until the both of them are sharing every breath, air mingling and brushing against their upper lips. "I'll be safe. You won't lose me," he repeats, not quite a mantra, brushing his thumb over the curve of Yoongi's cheek.

He closes the distance with a tentative kiss, less chaste than it is asking for permission.

The kiss is hesitant, but Yoongi leans into it immediately, seeking more. Hands curling in Jungkook's shirt, he holds him close, mentally cataloguing everything — the soft heat of Jungkook's mouth, the warmth of his body even through fabric, how solid he is, his chest against Yoongi's. He's here. He's real. Yoongi's hands slide up his chest, arms draping over his shoulders, and Yoongi can feel himself starting to relax. The future is frightening, but that's always true. If he can keep himself here in the present, it's okay. They're both safe here and now.

He swallows hard, taking a deep breath when he draws back ever so slightly. You won't lose me. He has to believe it. He has to make himself believe it. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just worry." He wants to say he knows he's overreacting, but he's still not convinced that's true, not enough to say it. So often, when Yoongi feels this kind of panic, he knows deep down that it's baseless. With this, he's not so sure. He'd rather Jungkook err on the side of caution anyway, anything that keeps him safe.

Fingers brushing along the nape of Jungkook's neck, he closes his eyes. "But we'll figure it out," he says, trying to sound a little more resolute, less terrified of his own shadow. "It'll be okay." He says it as much for himself as for Jungkook. This time, he won't be helpless. He won't stand by and watch everything disappear in front of him. If there's anything that can be done, he'll do it, whatever the cost.

When Yoongi leans into the kiss without pause, Jungkook exhales, relaxing his shoulders and wrapping his free arm around Yoongi's back, long fingers skirting underneath the hem of Yoongi's shirt to brush over warm skin. It never takes much to stoke the fire; already, the feel of hands brushing up his chest and the weight of arms settling on top of Jungkook's shoulders are enough to draw a hum from his lips, low and rough. By the time they pull apart, Jungkook finds that his breath is just as ragged and uneven, yearning for more kisses to mask the sharp ache in his chest.

"I know," Jungkook breathes instead, brows knit tightly as he nudges his nose against Yoongi's, leaning in to share breath. His lips move noiselessly, feeling the shape of words that don't quite seem to fit. Jungkook smooths both of his hands down Yoongi's side, then around to the small of his back, biting clumsily on his lower lip. "Don't apologize, I... sometimes I feel like you're the only one who really does."

His eyes slide to a close at the feel of Yoongi's hand against his neck, feeling the strength wax and wane between them. Feeling his own balance tip towards Yoongi, leaning on him as soon as Yoongi's found purchase.

"We'll be okay," Jungkook nods, voice a little wet.

In a way, Jungkook's words, awful as they are, help. Yoongi knows too well how it feels to think no one cares, and the idea of Jungkook feeling like that helps turn some of his fear to anger. It's a much more comfortable feeling, and not quite as consuming. It isn't true, Yoongi knows — if nothing else, their friends care — but there are people who should worry about Jungkook who clearly don't.

It's soothing, too, to spend a few moments just paying attention to the gentle way Jungkook's hands skate over his body, finally finding a place to rest. "We will," he agrees, quietly fierce. "No matter what. We'll figure things out." It's not easy to shake the fear he's felt over this, and he's not sure he entirely can, but he can at least try to twist it into determination. Jungkook needs his support, not his panic, and it's a lot easier to try and contain all that for someone else than it is for his own sake.

Thumb brushing gently along the hair at the nape of Jungkook's neck, he kisses him again. "I love you. I love you so much."

Jungkook has never let himself think of escaping before. Not in any serious way, at least. There's a difference between knowing that he'd be free after graduation, understanding that he'd finally have space with which to breathe and fully grow into himself, and actually escaping. Running away before his time. He's never let himself explore the possibility, always figuring that it would be too much for his mother, or that he'd always end up needing to come back, not having any support system to catch him elsewhere.

With Yoongi, the calculus changes. He's sure that they'd be able to make it, that being together is enough of a motivator to fight through everything else. And slowly, Jungkook lets himself start to imagine what it might be like to shake off those burdens early — not to constantly be looking over his shoulder for his father or brother.

A part of him already aches for it.

"I love you," he echoes, leaning into the kiss. All of the worries from earlier have receded somewhat in Yoongi's presence. "You're everything to me."

"Everything," Yoongi echoes, an urgent whisper before he's kissing Jungkook again, as if that alone might be enough to convey how deeply he means that. Without Jungkook, he's not sure what the point of anything else would be anymore. He's known misery without him and joy with him, and he's not sure he can go back to how things were before. He remembers well what Jungkook said on Christmas; without each other, there's just no color in the world. He can't live like that.

He doesn't have to, though. They won't let anything happen. Yoongi doesn't care what it takes; he'll find a way to protect Jungkook. He runs his hand back down Jungkook's chest, slipping beneath his jacket, beneath his shirt to palm against his waist, grateful for even the slightest touch of skin. There's nothing as at once exhilarating and grounding as kissing Jungkook. It's impossible to be anywhere but in the present like this, and, here and now, they're safe. They're together. They'll be okay.

There's a certain gravity in the kiss; Jungkook isn't sure whose vulnerability spurred it, or if perhaps it's a combination of them both, the need so deep that the both of them can't help but retreat into one another. He tilts his head instinctively, lips slotting easily against Yoongi's, drawing in a small breath before deepening the touch with a tongue skimming along the line of Yoongi's teeth. He feels the hem of his jacket shifting, Yoongi's palms gentle against the ache of fresh bruises, and Jungkook quickly wraps a hand around the nape of Yoongi's neck, keeping him close. Searching for the salve of his touch.

It takes a small pause for air before Jungkook murmurs, his words brushing against Yoongi's temple. "Should we head out as originally planned?"

He's torn. On the one hand, going back to their original plans feels like it might be a victory, not letting fear get the better of them living out their lives as planned. On the other, Yoongi's here, and Jungkook feels anchored by the touch of skin to skin, safe between these four walls and Yoongi's gentle hold.

Yoongi hesitates, weighing the options in front of him. It's not like he has to get the shopping done today. They could easily just stay in, inevitably wind up curled up in bed, comfortable and safe. He longs to stay put, anchored by Jungkook right where he is. On the other hand, letting himself be frightened into hiding doesn't sit well with him. Besides, they need the groceries if they're going to cook together, and maybe that would be good for them, something fun and domestic to set them back at ease.

"Yeah," he says finally. "Not yet, but soon, yeah. It'll be fun, right? And we can make dinner together." It feels strangely brave to say so when what he really wasn't is to stay where he is, remembering suddenly that being out of the house means going back to the way things used to be, held carefully at the smallest of distances. He hates that part of being outside together, knowing there are few situations where they can safely linger in each other's hold for long. It's tempting to say fuck it and insist on holding hands for the duration of their trip, but they'll be too close to home for that. He won't risk adding fuel to Jungkook's brother's suspicions.

He tips his head, pressing kisses along Jungkook's jaw toward his ear. "Stay tonight?"

Yoongi's answer breathes a sigh of relief into Jungkook. Yes, soon. Soon, they can pull themselves together and head outside, and even if they can't be as free as they like, the outdoors still affords its own sort of protection. Nothing can happen to them in broad daylight, in this neighborhood, as long as they play by its rules. Being outside, in that respect, is always more predictable and safe than being at home.

But they don't have to go now. They can take a little more time to revel in each other's company. Jungkook's eyes already start sliding to a close when Yoongi closes the already infinitesimally small distance between them, his breath feather-light against Jungkook's skin, soon replaced with the heated brush of his lips. Yoongi asks Jungkook to stay, and Jungkook can't imagine himself doing anything different, no matter how risky it might be to stay away so soon after his brother's remarks.

A solution can come another day. For now, Jungkook just wants to enjoy this.

"Yeah," he sighs, tilting his head to give Yoongi easier access, his hands gripping at the fabric of Yoongi's shirt. "Yeah, I'll stay. We'll go out later, we'll make dinner together. Then I'll spend the night. Can't think of anything better."

Yoongi smiles, nose bumping against Jungkook's neck, and, for a moment, he just holds him. He probably shouldn't have asked. If Yoongi thinks about it long, he can see how it might be dangerous for Jungkook to stay now. It doesn't feel like it, though. It feels the opposite. If there's anywhere Jungkook is safe, it's here, with Yoongi holding onto him, ready to defend him against anything that comes their way. Maybe it's selfish, but Yoongi needs that tonight. He's not sure he could sleep apart after this.

He turns his attention back to pressing kisses along Jungkook's neck, sucking gently at the spot just above his shoulder. Knowing they can come back here tonight, that they'll be together, the prospect of going out doesn't seem so bad after all. They'll still be together and, when they finish, they'll have the rest of the evening in front of them, a whole night to cuddle close and forget about all of this.

To pretend to, at least, for a little while, which might be as good as he can get for now.

"Good," he murmurs. "I just want you here with me." As long as they're in each other's arms, nothing bad can happen.

Even though Yoongi's face is out of view, Jungkook knows that he's smiling. He can feel it, in the soft exhale of breath against his neck, in the way Yoongi's cheek very nearly brushes against Jungkook's skin. It's enough that Jungkook smiles in turn, comforted by Yoongi's company. All other thoughts and worries are able to recede for the time being. Even if his house is a treacherous place, even if there will surely be worse days ahead, he doesn't have to think about any of that now. He won't have to think about any of it tonight.

The important thing about happiness, Jungkook finds, is being able to cling to it all the more when life is tough.

He shudders lightly at the brush of Yoongi's lips against his neck, the gentle way Yoongi draws Jungkook's skin between his teeth. Even if they decide not to go all the way right now, Jungkook knows that staying over tonight means that there's no easy way of avoiding the matter of the bruises on his body. Is it better to share them now? Maybe. Maybe the bliss of ignorance isn't worth the extra hit that there would be later, when Yoongi skims across skin unwarned.

"Yoongi-ah," he says gently, palm brushing up around the back of Yoongi's neck. "I've got some new bruises today. Don't be too alarmed when you see them, okay?"

Even with his face hidden against Jungkook's shoulder, Yoongi knows there's no hiding the way his expression just shifted, the happiness melting away again as his shoulders slump. Even if they stay in, there's no real hiding from this, no pretending it away, when trouble in Jungkook's house leaves visible marks. He steadies himself with slow, deep breaths, hand rubbing gentle circles at Jungkook's waist.

He wants to ask. He wants to know exactly what happened, if it was his brother this time or his father again, wants every detail, like somehow, if he knows, he can leech it all away from Jungkook and take it on for his own. It would be a fair trade.

Making Jungkook go over it again won't fix anything. It would only make him angry, and they don't need that. So Yoongi presses another kiss to his neck, leaning his head against Jungkook's, his eyes closed. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, an offering, a compromise. It's all he can do, give Jungkook the chance to talk if he wants to or to sweep it away, and the helplessness of it hurts so fucking much. When he would give his life to keep Jungkook safe, it doesn't seem fair that there's nothing the world will let him offer to make it go away.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut at the way Yoongi's shoulders slump, and at the clear shift in the balance of his weight. He's pretty sure that these moments are even worse than directly dealing with the blows. Coping with the physical pain is easy, most of it washing away in mere minutes. But knowing the emotional pain that Jungkook inflicts every time Yoongi sees his bruises twists him up inside in a different way — one that lingers and sinks in the pit of his stomach.

When Yoongi asks if Jungkook wants to discuss what happened, he's not sure what the right answer is. It's easy enough to know what Jungkook himself wants — to avoid the topic, to brush it under the rug. But would it help Yoongi to know more?

Or would that just be adding a burden they have no way of relieving?

"I don't think so," Jungkook sighs, brushing his hands up and down the line of Yoongi's back, reassuring and rhythmic. "It's just from the fight with my hyung. Nothing much worth mentioning; I'm fine now."

Yoongi exhales slowly, holding on tight to Jungkook, grateful for the gentle rub of hands down his back. He hates it, too, hates that he needs to be calmed and reassured when Jungkook is the one suffering, but he needs it all the same, a solid reminder that they're here now. Whatever happened before, they're here, and as long as that's true, no one's going to hurt Jungkook. For a little while, he's safe, and that's all Yoongi can reasonably ask for.

"Okay," he says quietly. Usually all of this just makes him furious, but right now, he finds, he's tired, chest aching from the knowledge that there's nothing he can do. It hurts to feel so defeated, so helpless, but he tries to shrug it off. Jungkook is the one who has to deal with this, who takes the blows. The least Yoongi can do is be here for him without adding to his troubles.

"As long as you're fine."

Is Jungkook fine? He thought he was, said he was, but whenever Yoongi asks, Jungkook feels like he needs to run through the mental exercise of checking in with himself again. He feels safe. He knows he's loved. There's guilt mixed in as well, but it's not suffocating just yet, not when Yoongi's still standing here and the two of them are holding onto one another like this.

He doesn't hate the idea of going out later, doesn't think it'll be too much trouble to muster the energy to make dinner.

The thought of spending the night still makes him happy.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jungkook confirms, raising his arms until they're looped around Yoongi's shoulders and pulling him close. He leans off to the side, burying his nose against Yoongi's shoulder and breathing in deep. "Can we just lie on the bed and cuddle for a bit before we head out?"

Yoongi rests his head against Jungkook's, turning enough to breathe in the scent of his hair. That's steadying, too, all the little, familiar details that ground him in the here and now. When Jungkook isn't here, it's so easy for Yoongi to lie awake for hours, exhausted but unable to sleep all the same, turning over countless imaginary errors and flaws. When he stays the night, though, it's things like this that keep Yoongi feeling safe enough, whole enough, to push through all of that. The smell of his hair and his skin, the warmth and weight of arms around him, the certainty that he's loved. He holds onto these again now, tries to stay in the present instead of letting his mind wander to how much worse this could have been, to how much worse it still could be.

"Yeah," he murmurs, nodding slightly. "Please." He presses a lingering kiss to Jungkook's hair, before he slowly pulls away, an arm still looped around his waist as he leads him toward the bed. "I don't think I'm ready to go out yet anyway." He needs at least a little more of this before he'll feel settled enough for that. Sometimes it's all he really wants anyway, even when he doesn't have awful things floating through his head. Just holding Jungkook, being held in turn, it soothes him. He can never get quite enough of it, just curling up together, sometimes talking, sometimes simply listening to each other breathe. It's exactly the kind of security he's craving now.

There are moments when Jungkook suddenly sees his life in sharp relief. Moments when he looks back and realizes how much he's been training to hold things together — the ache in his shoulders that drives down deep to the bone. Recently, it's been easier to reflect, and it feels like both a blessing and a curse. Knowing the struggles Yoongi's been through, Jungkook can start to recognize some of them in himself, those times when he's been so tired. When he's wanted everything to stop.

He wonders, distantly, where he'd be if it weren't for his hyungs. Where he'd be if he didn't have his love for Yoongi to hold onto, if it hadn't been filling his life in the way that it did even in the months before they were officially together.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, not liking what he imagines. He focuses instead on the arm around his waist, on the softness of the mattress as they sink down on it together. On the way Yoongi's hair falls to the side as they lay down, legs entwining naturally.

"Yoongi-ah... you're so beautiful, you know that?" Jungkook asks, voice barely above a whisper.

In spite of everything, there's peace to be found here. Yoongi curls up on his side, taking comfort in the easy way their bodies fit together. Whatever else happens to them, they've found each other. They're together. No matter what comes next, he can't regret that, can only be grateful for the happiness he's been given.

Still, there's a solemnity to Jungkook's expression that makes Yoongi want to give all his focus in turn. Gently brushing his knuckles along Jungkook's cheek, he smiles, soft and fond. "Well, yeah," he says lightly, all feigned arrogance, however hushed. This moment feels quiet and small, but safe, and he clings to that. The show of confidence fades, but his smile doesn't. "I mean, I must be, to catch your eye, which is all I care about anyway."

Feigned or not, Yoongi's smile draws a wider one to Jungkook's own lips, and he reaches out with a hand to gently trace along the curve of Yoongi's cheek, down to his jaw, across his face to map out his lips. He could trace these features a million times and never get tired of it, Jungkook thinks. Could spend his entire life trying to keep the smile on Yoongi's face, and that alone would make Jungkook luckier than most anyone else in the world.

"I bet you've caught many eyes and hearts already," Jungkook teases with a slight tilt of his head, fingers having moved to brush Yoongi's hair out of the away, out of his eyes. "...you'd catch even more if people saw the way you look right now. The way you look at the person you love."

He presses his face against the pillow, obscuring part of his expression. "It makes my heart race."

Yoongi can feel his own heart speed up in turn, struck by how sweet Jungkook looks like this, face half-hidden, such fondness in what remains visible. He traces his fingertips down Jungkook's neck, palm skating downward to rest over his heart, to feel for it thudding there beneath.

"Wouldn't matter if I did," he says. "I don't want to look at anyone else anyway." There have been a couple of occasions when he's caught someone's attention, he knows, but there's never been anything serious or long-lived to occupy himself with, never anything more than passing flirtations. He's always been too busy or, simply, not that interested. He imagines the same would be true if anyone showed interest in him now; he simply wouldn't be interested. Who could even begin to compare to Jungkook anyway?

"Besides," he adds, "then they'd look over and see you and understand."

Jungkook's smile, still half buried in the pillow, widens at the feeling of Yoongi's fingertips brushing down and coming to a rest over his heart. There, he thinks, is physical proof of how much he loves Yoongi, how much the feelings threaten to overwhelm him still even now. He can feel his pulse thudding in his ears, and the rhythm of his heartbeat against Yoongi's fingers. Biology class has taught Jungkook that it'd be more accurate to say his emotions are controlled by the brain, but there's a certain romanticism in attributing it to something more instinctive than just the cerebral.

Loving Yoongi doesn't feel like a conscious choice so much as it does a simple truth.

"Yah, you keep talking like I'm some obvious catch or something," Jungkook wrinkles his nose, coughing out a laugh. "You're so biased. I'm just me. Jeon Jungkook. Desperately in love with one Min Yoongi."

"Isn't it a catch to find someone who loves me so much?" Yoongi asks, his tone teasing, though he believes it entirely. How could that be anything less than the luckiest he could be?

He brushes his thumb gently back and forth over Jungkook's chest, shifting until he's barely inches away from his face. Of course he's biased, he can admit that, but it's not like that's all. "Do you need me to tell you how obvious it is? Because you are a catch, Jeon Jungkook. Handsome and kind and passionate and talented. So fucking sweet. Romantic. Charismatic. Silly, but it's endearing. Thoughtful and good. You love so much. How could anyone not be lucky to be loved by you?"

He's not usually so verbose, but it seems important now. When the world seems to want Jungkook to think he's a problem, that he's somehow wrong, Yoongi needs him to know that isn't true. He's wonderful. Someone has to tell him that.

It's never hard to believe that Yoongi means every word that he says. He's always been a fairly blunt person, one of the qualities that Jungkook likes most — there's never any second-guessing, never any concern that Yoongi might be softening his words for the sake of sparing feelings. Yoongi isn't tactless, but when he speaks up, it's always with complete sincerity. Perhaps that, as much as anything else, has made it so easy for Jungkook to feel safe and confident in their relationship.

He has no reason to fear losing this connection, not when the both of them are as committed and loving as they are.

There's still a gap between believing Yoongi's sincerity and actually agreeing with the content of his words. Jungkook has a hard time believing that he's necessarily a catch — a little too young, a little too naive, not always the quickest to pick up on the little things. Still growing into his frame. Still finding his feet.

But maybe it's enough, that when Yoongi looks at him like this, Jungkook feels beautiful.

"Are you sure you're not looking into a mirror right now?" Jungkook says softly, catching Yoongi's hand with his own, and moving them until they rest on top of Jungkook's cheek, pressed against his smile. "But if there's anyone who deserves to be loved like this, it's you. You deserve everything I can give you and more, Yoongi-ah."

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