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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Yoongi is smiling when he opens the door, relieved to see Jungkook there. He's been quiet the last couple of days, but he was busy with dance the other day and there are probably family reasons he hasn't come over. It hasn't been that long. He's not worried.

He wasn't, at least. Maybe he's just been too much in his own head the last while to have noticed something was off. Seeing Jungkook now, though, something plainly is. Maybe he's just tired, Yoongi tells himself. Or maybe he's disappointed it took Yoongi so long to reach out.

Whatever it is, he ushers Jungkook inside, locking the door and glancing behind him before he leans in for a quick kiss. With his father home, he doesn't dare linger for long. "Hey," he echoes. There's no reason not to head out right away, but he doesn't want to rush off so quickly, wants to spend a few moments of peace with Jungkook. He rests his hands on Jungkook's arms, leans in to press their foreheads together. "I missed you."

It hasn't been that long in the grand scheme of things. Even so, he can't help it being true. Each day without Jungkook is a little darker, each night a little harder to sleep through.

The house is warm as Jungkook steps across the threshold, but it isn't until the soft press of lips that Jungkook finally relaxes, lets out the breath he's been holding for some time. Whatever plans he had quickly unravel, replaced with the aching familiarity of Yoongi's touch, his smell. Chances are that Yoongi's already noticed that something is off, judging by the way his hands carefully remain on Jungkook's arms and the chaste press of forehead to forehead.

It's close enough that Jungkook feels himself tumbling over now, casting a quick glance over Yoongi's shoulder before he throws all reservations to the wayside, wrapping his arms tightly around Yoongi and pulling him close.

"I missed you too," Jungkook says, his voice muffled against Yoongi's shirt.

His cheeks bloom over with warmth, the flood of emotions just a little more than Jungkook thinks he can handle with grace. He licks his lower lip, and normally Jungkook might feel regret at having overestimated himself, but regret isn't an emotion that he ever wants to tie to being with Yoongi, regardless of the circumstances.

"Can we go to your room?" he asks, voice low in case Yoongi's father is nearby. "I just need a minute."

Yoongi lets out a small sigh of relief as Jungkook's arms wrap around him, his own sliding up over Jungkook's back to hold him close in turn. Rubbing circles against his back, he nods. "Of course," he says. He's all ready to leave, but that doesn't really matter. He's never minded any excuse for a few minutes alone with Jungkook. Besides, he's sure now he was right. Something is off. If that's the case, then Jungkook needs him. "Come on."

Slowly he draws back, hands tracing down Jungkook's arms until he can take him by the hand, leading him back toward the hallway and his room. It's a good thing it isn't far to go. His mind is mercifully empty of possibilities as to what could be wrong, but that might not last long, and anyway, not knowing can be just as bad.

He waits until they're inside his room, the door shut behind him, to stop. Reaching up, he rests a hand against Jungkook's cheek. "Everything okay?"

The faint buzzing is back now, ringing in Jungkook's ears as he lets himself be guided to Yoongi's room, hanging onto Yoongi's hand like a lifeline. Part of him feels weak for having asked Yoongi for this time at all. Asking for a detour like this is definitely going to cause concern, and for what? There's nothing that can be done to change the situation, save for options Jungkook isn't yet willing to take.

Would it be acceptable to simply accept the physical comfort without offering any clarification? How would Jungkook feel then, in Yoongi's shoes?

Jungkook leans into the touch of Yoongi's palm, taking a deep breath as his eyes draw to a close.

"Yeah," he says softly. In some ways, things are okay, a maze that he still knows how to walk. Yeongwook exploiting his knowledge is nothing new.

"I got into a bad fight with my brother, that's all. Haven't shaken it off yet."

It makes Yoongi's heart ache to hear, knowing how hard Jungkook has tried to be a good dongsaeng, a good son. There's nothing that can be done with that family, he thinks, but to get through the next two years. Still, he can't help being a little relieved it wasn't something worse, maybe an encounter with Jungkook's father. It's enough to make Yoongi irritable, in part because of the fight itself and in part because of his inability to help, but it's not as bad as it could be.

"Do you want me to beat him up?" he offers, gently teasing, and presses up ever so slightly onto his toes to kiss Jungkook's forehead. "I can take him." He probably can't and it's mostly a joke, but he'd try if Jungkook wanted him to, and it'd be satisfying to have done so, even if he got his ass kicked for it. At least then he'd feel like he'd done something. Having to stay put and watch while they mistreat Jungkook, in small ways and large alike, is a kind of torture. There's nothing he can do, he knows that, but he hates feeling helpless, most of all when Jungkook is the one suffering. "I'm sorry he's the worst. You wanna talk about it?"

He barely wants to talk about what goes on in his own head most of the time, so he won't be too surprised if Jungkook declines, but he wants to at least offer. Being here is all he can do.

The offer helps to defuse the moment, Jungkook hanging his head and smiling to himself at the thought of Yoongi coming to his defense. A part of him doesn't doubt that Yoongi would win the battle if it really did come to blows. Jungkook's never known anyone else to be as fiercely protective as Yoongi is, and he's seen the look Yoongi gets in his eyes at the sight of Jungkook's bruises. Yeonwook, large as he is, probably wouldn't be able to hold a candle to that.

"I know you could, but I wouldn't ask that of you. I wouldn't want you to hurt anyone on my behalf," Jungkook murmurs, tilting his head down to give Yoongi easier access for the kiss. He licks his lower lip, then pulls it briefly between his lips as he watches Yoongi, expression contemplative. "And I'd hate it even more if you were ever hurt defending me." Jungkook is sure that Yoongi must understand that much. The only thing worse than being hurt is having one's loved one take their place.

Drawing in a deep breath, Jungkook wraps his arms around Yoongi's waist, letting the weight gently hang against his hips. "I don't know if there's really much to talk about," Jungkook admits. "My brother has suspected that I'm queer for years. It's probably the main reason why we don't get along."

It's such a relief to see Jungkook smile that Yoongi is ready to keep teasing, anything to keep that warmth in his expression. He can understand, though, why Jungkook wouldn't want him to try anything. As much as Yoongi isn't entirely kidding in his playful threat, he knows better than to carry it out. It would cause too much trouble for Jungkook at home if one of his friends were to assault his brother, for one thing. For another, he knows how badly it hurts for him to see the bruises Jungkook carries. He can understand why Jungkook wouldn't want to see him hurt, too.

It would be worth it, though. He'd do anything to protect Jungkook.

Any jokes he might make fall away in the next moment, concern flickering across Yoongi's expression instead, a cold weight settling in his stomach. "That and he's an asshole," he says flatly. It's not really a surprise Yeonwook is a homophobic bastard; it's not even a surprise that he turns out to be relatively perceptive, if only because Yoongi is accustomed even now to expecting the worst. That it's coming up now, though, makes Yoongi uneasy. "What, did he say something?"

After years of burying complaints and fears alike, it's hard to break out of old habits, Jungkook finding that he wants to bite down on his tongue and file his thoughts away somewhere unseen. Perhaps, if Yoongi hadn't texted, leaving open the opportunity for the two of them to meet, Jungkook would have swallowed the encounter down. Let it fade into the past until it was a nonissue. But Yoongi poses the question directly, and Jungkook refuses to lie.

"He asked me if I thought dad knew," Jungkook says quietly, his lips tensing for a moment before he shakes his head. "It didn't really sound like much of a question though, you know? Sounded like kind of a threat."

He briefly considers letting Yoongi know what raised his brother's suspicions — the rings that both of them wear on their hands — but he can't bring himself to do so. Refuses to let something so precious become an object of fear or uncertainty. He'll keep wearing the ring, even if there comes a day when his brother does call their father's attention to it.

If it ever gets that bad, he'll run.

"I don't think he'll really do anything," Jungkook muses, brow furrowed in thought. "He probably prefers to have something he can hold over my head."

Jungkook may not want to make a fuss, but it raises Yoongi's hackles all the same, his shoulders going stiff as he tries to keep his expression calm. He's usually decent at maintaining a poker face, but it isn't as easy around Jungkook; he has a way of melting through all of Yoongi's defenses. Unfortunately, that makes it harder for Yoongi at times like this. He doesn't want to look too angry and upset Jungkook, but he can't quite keep the fire out of his eyes.

Yeonwook and Boyeon make him grateful to be an only child.

It isn't enough, though, his being able to avoid this kind of trouble for himself. There's nothing that makes him more deserving of escaping these awful siblings than Namjoon or Jungkook. If anything, he can think of so many reasons why they both deserve freedom more than he does, but he's the one who gets to sit on his hands and watch the people he loves get tormented by callous fools with no redeeming qualities.

"So he's going to blackmail you," he says, struggling to keep his tone merely dry. The word comes easily after thinking about it so much the other day, worrying about Namjoon's situation. Saying it, though, makes it resonate, a chill fear slicing through the heat of anger. "Or he's going to out you." If Yeonwook has no tolerance for Jungkook's sexuality, Yoongi can only imagine — and god, how he wishes he couldn't — how Jungkook's father might react to the information. He's not nearly optimistic enough to hope Jungkook's brother might only be bluffing about what he knows.

Thumb brushing along Jungkook's cheek, he forces a deep breath. "What should we do?"

The mention of blackmail raises Jungkook's gaze immediately, a slight shiver spreading under his skin. He's never thought about it in terms so stark — it's never been more than the slight uptick of pressure, never been more than brotherly teasing taken a little too far. But when standing at a distance, it's clear that there's no other word for it. Soft laughter, fingers slipping into his wallet, the slow retreat of heavy steps.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, echoing Yoongi's. The touch of a thumb to his cheek draws Jungkook's eyes to a close, leaning into the warmth of a palm. If he takes a moment to anchor himself here, then the challenges seem further away. Yeongwook doesn't matter. His father doesn't matter. Nothing matters, beyond finding a path to Yoongi's side and staying there for good.

"I don't know," Jungkook murmurs, softly shaking his head. "I don't think there's any way that I can bluff my way out. And besides, I don't want to deny this. Maybe I can't shout it out to the world yet, but... I don't want to pretend that I'm not in love with you. I don't think I can."

With a sigh, Jungkook opens his eyes, feeling all the energy drained from his shoulders. "Maybe I just say fuck it. So he tells dad. What's the worst that can happen? I can talk to mom, and if she won't do anything about it, then I'll leave." The thought makes his chest pull tight, stomach twisting into knots, but maybe Jungkook's mistake was letting it get to this point.

Never asking his mother for her help.

Fear settles under Yoongi's skin, tight and prickling, a familiar old friend. Except right now, Yoongi thinks, he has every reason to be afraid. This isn't some baseless, nameless fear. This is real and solid, and he doesn't think he's blowing it out of proportion. Jungkook's dad finding out is dangerous.

"He could kill you," he says tightly, an unspoken plea in his voice, in his eyes. "That's the worst that could happen." Even saying it leaves him terrified, slightly aghast he even put it into words. It seems like tempting fate to say it aloud, but he can't just pretend it's not true. If the man could beat Jungkook for getting home late, Yoongi doesn't doubt he'll go further still if he finds out Jungkook is queer. That he's dating Yoongi. It happens all the time. Boys like them get beaten, get killed. Getting turned out of the house to fend for themselves seems like the best outcome he can think of. It's the one he imagines for himself, not because he feels particularly optimistic, but just because he knows his father. He might lift a hand to him, but he won't do much. Whatever happens, Yoongi knows he can survive it. He's not sure Jungkook can say the same.

Running his fingers through Jungkook's hair, he bites his tongue, lets the small pain of it ground him. "Please be careful. Please." He doesn't want to deny their love either, but he can't keep himself from thinking I'm not worth dying for. If they have to keep silent to survive the next two years, he'd rather be disavowed than risk any harm coming to Jungkook.

He could kill you, Yoongi remarks, and the thought echoes in Jungkook's mind as he subconsciously smooths his hands down Yoongi's sides. The thought doesn't bring about any immediate sense of panic, and Jungkook isn't sure whether that's because he doesn't actually believe his father would win the fight, or if being killed was never the worst imaginable outcome. There have been times before, he remembers, when the simple blow of fists seemed to sap much more than physical energy out of him — when his body slumped against the wall, and Jungkook wondered what the point was in pushing himself back up. He's reminded of Yoongi's previous words, of how sometimes it's not about wanting to end his life, but instead wishing that he'd never been.

There's nothing that makes the feeling more clear to Jungkook than his relationship with his stepfather.

But however numb he might feel in those moments, the look on Yoongi's face is quickly etched in Jungkook's memory. The carding of fingers through his hair is enough to pull Jungkook back to the moment; he echoes the movement with a palm to Yoongi's cheek, lets it drag down the side of his neck. If there's a reason now to protect himself, it's this. It's the hurt that's written in Yoongi's very expression, the fear that looks to have seeped down to the bone.

"He won't kill me. I won't let him," Jungkook reassures Yoongi, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'll fight back if he tries, and he won't beat me. I'll be careful. I'll be careful, Yoongi, I promise."

The words should be more reassuring than they are. It's not like Yoongi doesn't believe him, after all. He knows Jungkook will fight back if he has to, that he'll try to be careful. That doesn't mean he'll win. It doesn't mean he won't get caught. Yoongi's jaw trembles and he closes his eyes, begging his heart to steady its erratic beating. Getting outted is too frightening to take lightly. There's a reason he hid for so long, even from his friends. People are cruel, but more than that, they're dangerous. Even among their classmates, he knows, there are those who wouldn't hesitate to attack if they knew the truth. He may not know the man, but he doesn't doubt Jungkook's father is one of those people.

He's faintly dizzy with worry as he leans forward, resting his forehead against Jungkook's, anything to feel the press of their bodies against each other. They're here now, he reminds himself. Nothing's happened. They're still safe, nothing to panic about. Not yet, at least.

"I just," he starts, letting out a sharp exhale. "I can't. If anything happened to you..." They might be able to manage Jungkook's brother for now, but at some point, he thinks, they'll run out of leverage or he'll stop finding it fun to toy with Jungkook like this. Yoongi doesn't know him, not enough to hazard a guess as to how long they have before this becomes more serious still. "And because of me... Don't just fight. Run. Please."

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.

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