I'm only me, Jungkook wants to argue. He's only Jeon Jungkook, a young man too overwhelmed by the high rises of Seoul, who feels so often left behind by the world, who feels so often like he has nothing to offer it to begin with. Jeon Jungkook, who was small and unnoticeable at school, a boy who did little more than scratch doodles into his notebooks. But it's hard to push the words out when Yoongi looks at him like this, like he's precious and special and a part of Yoongi that the elder would never relinquish.

Maybe it's okay to feel less than whole sometimes, Jungkook thinks, if it also means knowing that he belongs here. Belongs with this person.

"Nuh-uh. Can't be everything if it's your love that completes me," Jungkook muses instead, edging under the weight of the spray, sighing contentedly as the water sluices down his body. His hands start to roam over the expanse of Yoongi's skin, less urgency in the touch than before, replaced now with the gentleness of wanting to soothe any aches, any tightness. They've come a long way from Seoul, after all. Even the happiest of days can be long and hard on the body.

He nudges Yoongi's shoulders, encouraging the other boy to turn around as Jungkook leans in, pressing kisses to the base of Yoongi's neck.