lovestrippedbare | 𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕠

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yoongi

𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕠

These are the moments when no one questions where Jungkook will be for the day — when he wakes up early in the morning, before the sunlight shines fully in the sky, and brings the large picnic basket out of the storage closet. On these mornings, he walks through his house with confidence, no fear of receiving negative looks or words from his stepfather or stepbrother. Few words are usually exchanged at all, save for soft murmurs and the brush of warm hands against his arms, Jungkook's mother often reminding him to bring items she's saved off to the side, offering him extra cash for the long bus ride.

A layer of pears and mandarins rests at the bottom of the basket, carefully wrapped in cloth to prevent bruising. On top, a paper plate with freshly heated mandu, a few holes poked in the plastic wrap to stop them from getting too soggy.

Most of the time, Jungkook brings seasonal flowers, whatever blooms brightest but carries a reasonable price tag — little thoughtful gestures that he can't be sure his father would have specifically appreciated, but that feel better than not making the effort at all. Today, the basket is full to nearly bursting instead with pink lilies, a few of the longer stems peeking out from under the cover.

He heads out of the house alone, smiling at the way the gray of the sky gives way to a soft blue. A few quick taps on his phone later, he's both sent a message to Yoongi and pulled up a playlist for the initial walk, cascading arpeggios setting the tone for the day as Jungkook shuffles quickly to the meeting point.

"You'll like him, right, dad?" he murmurs under his breath, shivering when a gust blows through the street.

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Jungkook's ears start to burn as Yoongi describes the ways in which Jungkook helps him. It's a lot to take in — maybe not entirely a surprise, but the depth of it still leaves Jungkook feeling awestruck. He bites his lip at the thought that he might have helped Yoongi pull through tough days, even before they knew they loved each other in this way, wholly and without reserve. It makes his heart ache, realizing how much of a mirror they both were to one another.

There were definitely days when all Jungkook wanted was to sit in the classroom and listen to Yoongi play the piano.

He fiddles briefly with the basket, pulling it over to his lap, but a glance in Yoongi's direction has Jungkook staring for a few seconds longer, unspoken gratitude in his eyes. Whether or not Jungkook really deserves the world, he can't say. But with Yoongi in his life, Jungkook feels like he basically has it already.

"Yoongi's all I want, dad," Jungkook says, holding Yoongi's gaze for a second longer before he finally turns back to the basket, opening the lid and starting to rummage around for the food. "But don't worry, I'm not going to forget you. I brought mandu, mom's mandu. And mandarins and pears. I'm sure you'd want to share some with us, so I made sure to bring lots, so that you don't have to go hungry up there."

Jungkook pulls a smaller paper plate out of the basket, then a pair of chopsticks, quickly grabbing half a dozen mandu from the large plate — three each, it should be enough, Jungkook's never as hungry as he should be for these visits. The rest, he carefully lays in front of the altar, leaving an additional pair of chopsticks across the plate before passing his own over to Yoongi.

"Elder first," Jungkook grins.

It would be, Yoongi feels certain, entirely inappropriate if he were to lean across and kiss Jungkook now. This isn't the time or place for such gestures, even if they're intended to be entirely chaste. He settles for pressing a kiss to his cheek instead as he takes the chopsticks. It's not much, but it's something, a small token of gratitude that comes nowhere near showing how full his heart is. Before they started dating, it's not just that Yoongi thought it would never happen; he'd started to think maybe he would just be alone in general. Too afraid ever to be out, too broken to be wanted. He never imagined this, that the boy he loves with all his heart could want nothing but him. It's almost too perfect, nearly unbearable, as if something so good must also be fragile. Yet it isn't. It's the strongest thing Yoongi knows.

"So polite in front of your father," he teases. "I see how it is." Lifting one of the mandu from the plate, he cradles a hand underneath so it won't drop to the grass if his hand slips, and takes a bite. "Oh, wow." It isn't hot anymore, but it's still fresh, still delicious, and Yoongi's heart aches a little, partly because everything about this visit feels kind of raw, partly because he hasn't had homemade anything in a long time that didn't come from Jin's kitchen or their own fumbling attempts. "That's really good." Faint embarrassment floods him as he thinks to add, this time to the grave, "Thank you for sharing with me."

A kiss to the cheek is entirely chaste by their standards, but Jungkook finds his face flooding over with warmth regardless, pleased and slightly surprised by the gesture. Maybe he shouldn't be so afraid of showing affection in front of his father — if he's to really believe that his father's watching over them, then there's probably a whole lot more that he's been privy to. Jungkook can't help the slight laugh that falls from his lips, though he forces himself to meet Yoongi's gaze for an extended moment, a way of showing that he welcomes the affection.

That he's glad to show some of it to his dad.

"Yah, are you suggesting to my father that I'm not polite most of the time?" Jungkook laughs, his expression immediately softening at the look on Yoongi's face as he takes a bite of the mandu. There's a mix of emotions there, and while Jungkook knows he's probably not quite intuitive enough to disentangle all of them, there's a soft ache in his chest as he wonders whether or not Yoongi's mom would have made meals like these, too.

And an ache as he wonders when he'll be able to invite Yoongi over to his house for a proper meal. Soon, he thinks. Even if he can't tell his mom yet about their relationship, soon.

"He likes mom's cooking, that's a good sign too, right?" Jungkook asks his dad, quickly shifting to pile the pieces of fruit next to the mandu, contemplating the set before deciding on a pyramid formation.

Yoongi smiles, almost shy, his head bowing. The look on Jungkook's face at that small kiss is enough to make him want to do it again, but he refrains. If Jungkook's father were right in front of them, visible and tangible, he's not sure he would have been so bold. Without that presence, though, he feels free to imagine, to hope, that there would be approval. That his love for Jungkook would be enough to melt away any reservations his father might have had. It is, Yoongi thinks, the best thing about himself, this love; it pushes him forward, makes him want to do and be better. He has to hope Mr. Jeon can see that about him.

"I'm not suggesting, I'm saying," he teases. "No, you're very good. Most of the time." Jungkook is usually so thoughtful and good to his elders, but they're still just kids. Of course he's going to get out of line now and then. They're all friends. Yoongi doesn't see anything wrong with it. He watches as Jungkook assembles the plate, everything neatly laid out with a practiced ease. How many visits has he made here alone? It's unfair, Yoongi thinks, that they've been deprived of the people who loved them.

"Besides, everyone seems to like your mom's cooking," he adds. "Does it speak that highly of me if she's just a good cook?"

Jungkook can't help but chuckle a little at Yoongi's words. In all honesty, he probably isn't the best at following all the customs when it comes to his hyungs — he has a tendency to fall back into casual speech far too much, and he doesn't pick up nearly enough chores to merit how many times he's been treated to dinner. But Yoongi's never been the type to care about the arbitrary rules, Jungkook thinks. Yoongi's able to focus on the important part — the affection that Jungkook has for all of his hyungs.

Jungkook's very good about that, most of the time.

"Mm... it still means you have good taste. And that you know to appreciate good things when they're given to you," Jungkook points out, his gaze skirting slightly at the thought of his hyung back home, how Yeongwook never bothers thanking his mother for her effort, or complimenting the dishes themselves. Jungkook can't help but wonder if his father sees that, too.

Or the blows that his son's forced to endure.

"Here, have another," he says, pulling his thoughts away by picking up another mandu and holding it out for Yoongi to eat.

Yoongi nods, thoughtful. He can agree to that, at least. When he's lucky enough to receive something good in his life, he cherishes it, from delicious food to the love of his life. Enough bad has happened in his life; he won't let the good go by without being grateful for it. It's why he tells Jungkook so often that he loves him. It's the excitement of everything being new, yes, but it's also that, a desire not to let good fortune go unremarked. To make it clear he knows just how lucky he is, that this is something he won't ever take for granted.

Leaning over, he bites into the mandu, grinning. Once he's swallowed, he reaches over to rest his hand on Jungkook's arm. "I can't actually argue with either of those," he says. "My taste is impeccable and I'm very appreciative." He has to wonder when he'll get his chance to come over for dinner, but it's not something he's going to push, in no small part because he's not sure he's ready anyway. Keeping his distance, maintaining a straight face instead of doting on Jungkook, it won't be easy. The idea of it reminds him a little of how he used to worry Jungkook would feel if he knew the truth of Yoongi's affections, that he would see their lessons as something conducted under false pretenses; now he wonders if Jungkook's mother would feel that way if she knew about their being together.

For now, though, he reminds himself, he only has one parent to impress.

"Your taste has to be impeccable if you chose me," Jungkook agrees with a cheeky grin, quickly placing the chopsticks down on their plate before laying his hand on top of Yoongi's and giving it a slight squeeze. It's nice, Jungkook finds, that not everything about this conversation has to feel heavy. Nice that there are certain parts of this conversation that are simply easier to have, as much as he would rather have his father physically there.

These days, though, Jungkook finds it easier not to steep in regrets. Because for all that he wishes his father were alive, life as it's been until now is also what brought him to Yoongi's side. Moving in to his stepfather's house, changing school districts — without that, Jungkook might never have found Yoongi at all.

Which strikes him with another thought.

"Maybe my dad's laughing up there," Jungkook muses softly, "because he had a hand in helping me find you. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Did he?" Yoongi asks, curious. He's not sure how that would be the case, but it makes him smile to consider. Maybe in some way, that's like a blessing of their relationship. As wistful as he might feel about meeting Jungkook's father like this, too, he doesn't feel bad exactly. If Mr. Jeon disapproves, Yoongi can't tell, and that's enough for now.

"That would be nice." He reaches for the chopsticks, lifting another mandu up for Jungkook. "I want him to like me. Laughter would be a good sign, I think."

It wouldn't be disapproval, at least, which is a start. Yoongi doesn't really expect any of their parents to be happy about this, but maybe being dead gives people a better perspective, makes them realize that, when life is so short, love is important no matter where it comes from.

"I feel like..." Jungkook pauses, opening his mouth to take the mandu and chewing thoughtfully, buying himself a little more time to gather his thoughts. He takes the time to savor the mandu filling, the carefully minced vegetables that lend a more varied texture to the food.

No matter how busy she might otherwise be, Jungkook knows his mom will always put everything down to make sure there's some good food Jungkook can take to his father.

Somehow, coming here is always a reminder to Jungkook of how blessed he really is.

"Mm," he hums, swallowing the bite. "I feel like... after my dad passed away, that period was the hardest my mom and I ever knew. But then, one day, things started getting better. And they've never — they've never stopped getting better since, you know? There are hardships, but overall I'm. I'm so happy now. And I like imagining that it's because he's looking out for me."

Yoongi considers that, nodding slowly, thoughtfully. He could argue if he wanted, protest that Jungkook's life is still far from easy or peaceful, but this isn't the time or place. Besides, if Jungkook is happy anyway, that's the only thing that really matters.

For himself, it's seemed for so long like things would never get better. Like he'd be stuck in this abyss, alone, forever, plunged into darkness in his mother's absence. But bit by bit, things are changing. Maybe that's her doing, too.

He smiles. "Imagine them up there," he says, "playing matchmaker. Maybe they approve more than we know." Maybe their happiness is all that matters to their parents, too. Maybe death washes away those prejudices and fears that held them back on earth.

Jungkook's gaze skirts to the side in order to meet Yoongi's, a soft flush rising from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. It was easier to make assumptions about his father — easier to justify that it was natural for a child to hope for things from their parents and to crave acceptance. Easier to fall back on the belief that it's almost a parent's responsibility to continue loving their child, no matter what challenges might come in the way.

But to hope for the approval and love of Yoongi's mother has always felt even more distant and abstract. It's even more important to Jungkook than the opinion of the still living parent. Maybe that's unfair of him, maybe Yoongi's father should have more weight in the equation. Jungkook finds himself hard-pressed to care as much, when Yoongi's father has clearly shown himself to be neglectful.

"You think your mom would really approve of me?" Jungkook asks quietly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Should we head over soon to find out?"

"I don't want to rush this," Yoongi says, "but yeah, when you're ready."

The first question is harder to answer. When he thinks back on the things his mother said when he was a kid, it gives him pause to imagine she would be happy about this relationship. In the end, though, he always comes back to the same notion, that she just wanted his happiness. That was all. Of course she expected him to do well in school, but she was never the kind of person who prioritized anything above him. If she prodded about his grades, if she warned him of the dangers of liking other boys, she only ever did it to protect him, to ensure his future happiness. She couldn't have imagined he'd find a love like this so young. If she'd seen Jungkook, heard them play together, if she knew how incredibly happy Jungkook makes him... she'd have to be happy about that, right? No one who loves him as much as she did could wish for her child to be alone and miserable, and that's what he knows he would be without Jungkook.

He smiles softly and nods. "She'd love you."

Jungkook's lips part when Yoongi comes back with his final assessment, given after the care of a minute or so, countless emotions passing over Yoongi's expression. It's how Jungkook knows that the statement isn't one that Yoongi's simply throwing around for ease — not that Yoongi ever takes anything about his mother lightly — and Jungkook finds his face flooding over with warmth at the thought. He really, really wants to be loved by Yoongi's mother. Almost as much as he craves love from his own parents.

To break his awkward silence, Jungkook grabs another piece of mandu and holds it out for Yoongi, blinking against the heat in his eyes. He swallows thickly seconds later, turning back to the grave marker, and bowing fully in front of it. Lets his forehead touch the still damp surface of stone.

"Dad... it's been hard for me sometimes. There are days when it's so hard to see ahead beyond the next few hours, when everything feels so heavy and like I'll never be — like I'll never know what it's like to breathe without that weight on my chest. But I keep going because I know mom needs me, and because I think, it's the least I could do to honor your name," Jungkook says, his words slightly muffled by the proximity to the grass. "I don't always know if I deserve it. But it's a good name, right? Jeon Jungkook... ah, what am I saying? It's just. It's not that hard anymore, dad. When I'm with Yoongi, everything feels — it feels right. So, watch over him too, okay? I'm sorry for being the son who always comes here asking you for things. I promise I'll try even harder, I'll get better grades and I'll go to university and make you proud. But you can be happy for me now. Because life is... it's really good these days."

Jungkook sits up, slightly bleary-eyed as he licks his lower lip. "I'm going to go meet Yoongi's mom. You should — you should hang out with her sometime. I think she's pretty great."

Yoongi tries not to fidget, hands in his lap, the last traces of mandu gone as Jungkook bows over the marker. Yoongi can't make out everything he's saying, and he's caught between trying to and feeling he's intruding on something private. What he does hear, though, makes his heart ache. Makes him proud.

Proud of who Jungkook is and how hard he tries. Proud to give him any kind of relief.

As Jungkook finishes, Yoongi bows low again, eyes falling closed as he tries to find the right words. "Thank you," he settles on finally. "Thank you for him. Thank you." It's unfair, he thinks again, that this is how they meet. The simple words don't feel like they do any kind of justice to how deeply grateful he is that Jungkook exists and for everything his father did to make him who he is, even in his absence.

When he sits up, he glances to the side, eyes widening at the sight of his forgotten flowers, and he plucks a few stems from the bunch to lay beside the food. "I don't know if you like lilies," he says, "but I brought some. Please accept this small token." It suddenly seems embarrassingly tiny next to all he has to be thankful for.

"He won't say it for himself, but it's actually really cute that he brought these lilies, dad," Jungkook chirps up, the smile having returned to his face in full as he watches Yoongi lay the flowers by the food. "He asked me what kind of flowers you liked, and I told him that I didn't think you were picky, or if you are then I... well, I don't remember." Jungkook's cheeks flush slightly at the admission. "So he brought you his mom's favorite kind of flowers. Isn't that nice?"

Being able to brag about Yoongi, even to the emptiness of the winter air, makes some of the tension in Jungkook's chest unfurl. Slowly, he starts to get to his feet, chuckling at the way his legs feel just the slightest sensation of pins and needles. Hooking the much lighter basket on his elbow, Jungkook reaches out for Yoongi's hand with his own, giving the name on the marker a final, lingering glance.

"I hope you aren't too lonely," Jungkook murmurs. "We'll come visit you again soon, okay dad?"

Jungkook turns to meet Yoongi's gaze, giving a small nod.

Yoongi ducks his head, cheeks prickling with self-consciousness, but he's pleased all the same. If Jungkook thinks the gesture is a good one, that's enough for him. Pulling himself to standing again, he nods. "We will," he says. "Bye. It was nice to meet you."

He loops his arm through Jungkook's again, heading back to the path. It's only as they start making their way in the direction of his mother's grave that Yoongi starts to feel nervous. He believes what he's said, sure she has to approve of Jungkook, but it feels like a big step all the same.

Still, things went well with Jungkook's dad, he thinks. It'll be fine with his mom.

He looks over at Jungkook as he walks, the route a familiar one, and then leans over to kiss his cheek. "Thanks. I'm glad we did that."

Jungkook finds himself lost in his thoughts as they start to make their way over to Yoongi's mother. He's never been particularly good with prepared speeches, so he's tried not to think too hard about what things he specifically wants to say, for fear of beating himself up about it if he doesn't get everything out. But he can't help but think about it now — all the things that he wants Yoongi's mother to know. How Yoongi is the center of his world. How Jungkook plans on making every effort possible to keep Yoongi happy.

How some days, Jungkook isn't sure where he'd be if it weren't for Yoongi.

The kiss to his cheek is what finally pulls Jungkook out of his thoughts, blinking in surprise before relaxing into a smile, tugging on Yoongi's hand until the both of them come to a stop.

"I'm glad we did it too," Jungkook says quietly. "I'm really glad you got to meet my dad." He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Yoongi's lips, still slightly peppery from the earlier mandu. Pressing their foreheads together for a few seconds, Jungkook listens to the wind that passes by the both of them. "And I'm really glad we're going to see your mom."

The kiss is brief, but reassuring, and Yoongi smiles, quietly grateful. He would never wish this kind of understanding on anyone, let alone someone he loves this much, but it helps, knowing Jungkook gets how hard it is to lose a parent. "Me too," he says, free hand coming up to rest against Jungkook's neck, skin chill in the winter wind.

"She used to worry about me," he admits. "When I was a kid and I... I wasn't just interested in the girls the way she expected. Thought I might get hurt." He doesn't have to explain to Jungkook, of all people, how incredibly dangerous it can be to be queer. His mother had good reason to be protective. She only ever wanted him to be okay. "But I was too little then, you know? I didn't know to hide it. And it never meant anything serious. This is..." He huffs out a breath and shakes his head. "This is everything. And I know she'd like you."

The same mother who would help him with his homework or steal him away from it to play for a while, who only ever wanted him to succeed so he could be safe and happy — she would never ask him to give up that which makes him happiest and most whole. He has to believe she would understand this. That she would be happy for him.

Jungkook listens intently as Yoongi explains the worry his mother had for him in the past. It's certainly not hard to imagine. Even without knowing what it's like to be a parent, Jungkook thinks that he would worry too — even worries now for the both of them, with all the strength and resolve he knows they have. It's still dangerous to be queer in this country, and the progress towards understanding feels all too slow.

"If she was just worried about you getting hurt... that seems like she'd probably understand," Jungkook says quietly, his chest twisting with the thought that he has nothing even remotely as tangible to really know what his parents would have wanted for him. "I guess I never had any talks like that. When I was little, sure, I liked both girls and boys, but it wasn't — it wasn't hard for me to believe that girls were for marrying and boys were for being best friends. And once I was older, I became pretty private."

Jungkook ducks his head, a flicker of something between embarrassment and disappointment crossing over his features, cheeks warm and flushed.

"I guess I'm pretty straight-passing, huh?" Jungkook asks, his brow furrowed.

Yoongi lets out a soft laugh, tugging gently at Jungkook's arm. "You thought I was straight," he points out. "It's not a bad thing to be." It's safe. As much as he'd like to be able to shout his love from the rooftops, he still considers himself a private person. It's Jungkook he wants to share; his sexuality never seemed like anyone else's concern. They're lucky they can pass, as long as they're careful, even if it feels like a curse to need to.

Someday, he tells himself. Things will change or they'll go somewhere they've changed already. Someday they'll stand on a city street, the crowd passing by as he kisses Jungkook, and no one will care.

"I think she thought I'd grow out of it," he admits. "That I just didn't know better yet. But she mostly just wanted me to be safe." And this, what he is, what he has with Jungkook, feels safer than anything else he's ever known.

"Hmm, I guess that's true," Jungkook grins, taking a step forward when Yoongi tugs at his arm. Even with everything they shared, Jungkook wouldn't say that there's anything about Yoongi specifically that reads as queer — and maybe that's part of the important lesson anyway, that these parts of one's identity aren't in any way molded into the skin. It's all a matter of how much people want to express themselves, how explicit they want to be.

Because queer doesn't look one way or the other. Doesn't act one way or the other. It's such a simple and obvious fact now, even if it didn't always feel that way to Jungkook before.

He tilts his head, listening to Yoongi muse about his mother. "I think that's one of the things I'm afraid my mom will say, too. That it's just... some kind of phase and I'm being rebellious or whatever. I wish I could know how to make sure she understands," Jungkook says softly, squeezing Yoongi's hand. "Maybe it'll be easier for your mom to see it. And hopefully she'll know that I plan on keeping you safe, with everything I've got."

Yoongi nods, lingering a moment just to look at Jungkook, to draw strength from his hope. He believes it, he does, but it still helps to have someone else say it. "She'll understand," he says. Starting up the path again, he shrugs. "Maybe I'm just being optimistic, but I think she would have come around as long as she knew I was safe." His father he's much less certain about. Given how little his father seems to care, it seems to Yoongi doubtful that his opinion has changed any or that it's contingent on Yoongi's safety or happiness.

"Your mom loves you," he adds. It's clear she's the only light in that household and that Jungkook adores her. "She'll get it eventually. I bet it's the same with her. She just wants you to be safe." It's one thing Yoongi knows they'll agree on, how badly they want Jungkook to be safe and happy.

The fear doesn't entirely melt away with Yoongi's reassurances. Jungkook knows himself well enough to know that it can't, even if that too makes him feel slightly guilty — maybe the thought did start in a place of self-defense, but it's all too easy for him to imagine his mother not being able to accept that part of Jungkook's identity, no matter how much she loves him. For her to want to stamp it out somehow, like she might be able to carve away all the parts of her son that don't quite fit or work.

Maybe Jungkook isn't being fair to her. But he's long since learned how dangerous it can be to hope.

"Well, there's no place where I feel safer than with you," Jungkook says quietly, squeezing Yoongi's hand. If all else fails, he thinks, they'll escape together. They'll have a place that's all their own.

It'll happen.

"C'mon. I don't want to keep your mom waiting too long," Jungkook smiles, ducking his head.

Yoongi smiles, though it's a little wistful. Even in the best moments, he can't help it if thoughts of his mother are softened with a kind of melancholy; the brightest memories are a little dimmer, tinged with regret.

"You see?" he says, leading the way down the path. "If she understands that... if I can make her see I'll keep you safe... maybe she'll come around." He doesn't dare hope that Jungkook's mother will simply accept them. Such understanding is difficult enough to expect even among their changing generation; he assumes its absence entirely from their parents. It feels safer that way. But if he could just show her how much he loves Jungkook, how willing he is to do whatever he has to to make sure they're protected and happy together — if she loves Jungkook as much as she seems to, maybe that will be enough. "I mean, we want the same thing."

I hope so, Jungkook thinks to himself. I hope so. I really, really hope so.

There's a certain realism in Yoongi's words even now. Even as he offers Jungkook reassurances, there's a certain softness in the tone that gives Yoongi away. Not quite hesitation, Jungkook thinks, but instead a softly protective tone, one that tries to build up courage but thicken skin at the same time. If Jungkook's mom doesn't come around, they still want the same thing. They'll still be okay.

And Jungkook has to believe that eventually, eventually his mother will understand, even if shock makes it hard to at first.

"You'll probably win her over with how responsible you are," Jungkook muses with a small smile. "And how lovely the piano sounds under your fingers."

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