jeon jΟ
ngΔΈooΔΈ (
lovestrippedbare) wrote2019-03-09 03:19 pm
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There are times, Jungkook thinks, when unexpected changes in plan work out for the best. Giving up on the idea of Busan during winter break wasn't the easiest choice at the time Jungkook had expected it to be the highlight of their winter, and giving into the pressure of Yeongwook's blackmailing hurt on multiple levels. But distance seemed safest. Planning, biding their time, having Jungkook carefully siphon a portion of his allowance over to Yoongi for safekeeping, every passing day made the trip feel more viable again, until the two of them suddenly realized that Yoongi's birthday would be an easy occasion to leave for, and that was that.
They've picked up memories along the way. The first night Jungkook had Yoongi stay over. The first dinner together with his mother, with her offering countless thanks for helping her youngest with his studies. A trip out to a nameless beach, all seven of them together, huddled and bracing against the last of the winter winds.
Getting to March isn't as difficult as Jungkook expected it to be, and now that they're here, the wait has made everything all the sweeter.
He takes countless pictures with his camera of their seats together on the train, of the little box meals they buy from the lady with the cart. Of the ramyeon they buy an hour later, when it's clear that the box meals are more packaging than substance.
Of Yoongi, staring out the window of the train car, a soft smile on his face.
At first, Jungkook struggled with the idea of spending much of Yoongi's birthday on the train, but the trip to Busan takes several hours at best, which would have required missing class on Friday. Seeing Yoongi's peaceful expression on the train helps to set a little of that regret to rest, as does the stifled laughter they share as they stumble down the hall to their room in the hotel.
"Hotel Elysee," Jungkook says with a flourish as he waits for Yoongi to swipe their room key. "Is that, like, French?"
They've picked up memories along the way. The first night Jungkook had Yoongi stay over. The first dinner together with his mother, with her offering countless thanks for helping her youngest with his studies. A trip out to a nameless beach, all seven of them together, huddled and bracing against the last of the winter winds.
Getting to March isn't as difficult as Jungkook expected it to be, and now that they're here, the wait has made everything all the sweeter.
He takes countless pictures with his camera of their seats together on the train, of the little box meals they buy from the lady with the cart. Of the ramyeon they buy an hour later, when it's clear that the box meals are more packaging than substance.
Of Yoongi, staring out the window of the train car, a soft smile on his face.
At first, Jungkook struggled with the idea of spending much of Yoongi's birthday on the train, but the trip to Busan takes several hours at best, which would have required missing class on Friday. Seeing Yoongi's peaceful expression on the train helps to set a little of that regret to rest, as does the stifled laughter they share as they stumble down the hall to their room in the hotel.
"Hotel Elysee," Jungkook says with a flourish as he waits for Yoongi to swipe their room key. "Is that, like, French?"
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"There they are," he says, pleased, as they approach the tank, his eyes widening at the sight of all the tropical fish. Unlike that big brown fish blending in with the sandy floor, these fish are brilliant and colorful, catching sunlight filtering down from above as they flit past. "They're so pretty, wow. Where would we go to see them? Outside of here, I mean."
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Besides, the feeling of having Yoongi in his arms is worth it.
"The Mediterranean is pretty close to like, Vienna and stuff, right? I mean, not close close, still much further than all of Korea, but I always hear stuff about how there are really great trains in all of Europe and you can really get around pretty easily," Jungkook murmurs in thought. "Like with week-long passes or something."
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"That would be fun," he says, brightening at the idea of it. "Riding across Europe from Vienna to... somewhere in Greece maybe? It's really pretty there." At least, the pictures he's seen have always seemed beautiful, everything white stone and bright sunlight. The water should be lovely and clear enough to see the brilliantly colored fish. "I mean, if we're going to go, we should just... do it. See everything."
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"Just a couple of months and lots of train tickets. We don't have to stay anywhere fancy, and I bet we can figure out how to be careful about what we spend on food, too," Jungkook reasons. "Walking's free. We'll explore all the places, and uh, bring a little book with the most important stuff we might wanna say."
He clears his throat, breaking into English. "Hello, my name is Jungkook. How are you? I'm fine, thank you, and you? Where can I find hotel? Where is bathroom? How much money is this? I am lost, what way to..." He pauses, realizing there aren't many landmarks he knows off hand. "To the tropical fish," he concludes in Korean with a snicker.
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But it's so easy to dream with Jungkook, so easy to envision a future unfolding for two. To imagine racing around Europe, always at each other's sides, laughing, holding hands, kissing against a brilliant blue Mediterranean sky.
"Very nice," he says, grinning. "Your English is pretty good." It is, at least, good enough that, between the two of them, they should be able to navigate alright, especially if they bring along a useful phrase book. So he'll save, he thinks. He's already putting money aside in case he needs to get Jungkook out of here to safety; that money could easily turn into a fund for a European trip if that need never arises. "We barely even need a little book."
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Jungkook wrinkles his nose, gaze trailing lazily along with a bright yellow fish before he clears his throat and attempts his best Italian accent. Which is probably more of a British accent. Or not much of an accent at all.
"Pasta? Pizza? Sì, sì... Gelato? Espresso? Ciao!" He starts dissolving into giggles before he even finishes, realizing that he doesn't really know any Italian beyond the dishes that they serve at Italian-themed restaurants, which he's also pretty sure fall drastically short of the real thing. "At least we won't go hungry," Jungkook reasons.
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"Now what," he asks after a moment, "was that accent? I can't even imitate it." Granted, he also can't speak any more Italian than Jungkook has already demonstrated, so he's probably in no place to judge, but not judging has never really been Yoongi's strong point.
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Pursing his lips in a pout, Jungkook pulls away to walk further down the exhibit, keeping his eyes peeled on the displays for any sign of a parrot fish, or any of the fishes he recalls watching in Finding Nemo. And keeping his pace quick all the while, just so Yoongi has to work a little to keep up.
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It is, admittedly, probably a fair assessment and Yoongi knows he couldn't speak any real Italian if his life depended on it. In fact, he has no intention of trying. "I can't do any better," he admits, but he's not going to prove that and make a complete idiot of himself. He just hangs onto Jungkook, brushing a kiss against his neck. Truthfully, Jungkook's willingness to make a fool of himself is at once adorable and attractive to Yoongi. In spite of his apparent confidence, he's always been more self-conscious than he'd like to let on.
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Truth be told, Jungkook likes the fact that Yoongi tends towards more bitter and savory tastes. They have enough of an overlap between them that choosing what to eat is never a problem, but the areas where their tastes differ are a good opportunity for Jungkook to try and stretch himself, even if some attempts are futile. Like the aforementioned coffee.
"Can any of us really handle the other European languages worth a damn?" Jungkook asks, smiling when he feels the press of Yoongi's lips against his skin. "Maybe Tae could pull something out of his ass. Or maybe Namjoon hyung has a lot of random knowledge tucked away somewhere."
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"And anyway," he adds, a note of protest in his voice, "it's not like I don't like sweet things. I like cake. I just don't like that much sugar." Besides, he's pretty sure too much sugar makes him puff up, and he's a little more vain about things like that than he cares to say.
Nestled here against Jungkook, it's so tempting just to keep kissing him, dotting his neck and jaw with kisses, but he knows better than to press his luck. Instead, he tucks his head against Jungkook's shoulder, angling them toward another tank.
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it's too hard to speculate about.
Thankfully, Yoongi offers an easy distraction, his breath soft against Jungkook's skin. Jungkook grins at the pout clear in Yoongi's tone, his hands smoothing over Yoongi's forearms. "I guess you do like sugar sometimes," Jungkook murmurs, tilting his head back and forth as they head to the next tank. "Like when it's all over my fingers."
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"As long as I can lick it off," he teases, voice kept low. "But I like anything I can lick off your fingers." He tries not to let himself think about that too much, though, not when there's still plenty of this place he wants to see. There are children pressing up against the glass alongside them, and his gaze drops to a little boy trying to wave a toy at the fish through the window. He smiles, watching him wriggle the stuffed crocodile emphatically against the glass, trailing it up and down to catch the fishes' attention. It's enough to distract him from anything dirty-minded for the moment, too charmed by the innocence of the moment for that.
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Though that's dipping further into semantics than Jungkook cares to, right now. Especially when he turns around and finds Yoongi watching a little boy playing up against the window, one who's almost jamming a stuffed crocodile against the glass. For some reason, Jungkook's always found it easier to picture Yoongi engaging with a little girl, but the grin on his face makes it clear that Yoongi can easily find the charm in rambunctious little boys as well.
They're probably too young for Jungkook's chest to ache as much as it does, but he's glad for the feeling, giving Yoongi's hand a little squeeze. Someday, he thinks to himself. They'll get there.
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"He's cute," he says, the question forgotten, his hand rubbing soft circles against Jungkook's back. "They all are." He huffs out a soft laugh. "I bet you were adorable. A little terror, though." It's easy to imagine Jungkook being so fascinated by the world that he gets himself into trouble, stumbling into messes and adventures, the kind of kid who toddles off when his mother's not looking for half a second. Hell, it's easy enough to imagine him doing that now, never mind as a child.
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But before he can comment, Jungkook realizes the shade that's been thrown his way, and he blinks before feigning the most offended look possible.
"I was an absolute angel, thank you very much," he counters, which is a flat-out lie. Jungkook's pretty sure that before his father passed away, he was both loud and demanding, as one might expect from an only child who's been doted on. "All you had to do was point me to a playground and I'd be set." Jungkook narrows his eyes, staring at Yoongi thoughtfully. "Meanwhile, I wouldn't be surprised if you, like... I don't know, stopped by every busker and told them they were playing their instruments off-key."
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"Actually, I loved buskers," he says thoughtfully. "I used to drag my parents over and make them stop to listen." That may not be completely true. He's not sure. He knows they would stop a lot, but maybe that was his mother's idea sometimes, as much as it was his own. They were so inseparable when he was little that he's hard-pressed to distinguish between their decisions when it comes to how they spent their time. "Though I do remember falling asleep on the piano once because I wouldn't go to bed." He'd insisted he wasn't tired, but he absolutely had been.
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But he outright whines when Yoongi mentions falling asleep on the piano, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's middle, pinning his arms against his waist. "Ahh, you're not allowed to tell me cute things like that while we're out in public," Jungkook whines, pouting even as he drops his forehead against Yoongi's shoulder, smiling from ear to ear. "Of course you'd fall asleep on the piano. Of course. Not watching TV, not reading books under your cover. The piano."
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"Oh, I did those, too," he says. In retrospect, he's never been very good at sleeping when he's supposed to, even before his nights were plagued by self-doubt and overthinking. He has trouble remembering specific incidents for most such occasions, but he knows he insisted on staying up too late too many times. "But the piano is probably the least comfortable thing to fall asleep on. It's a good thing they carried me off before I had key prints embedded in my face."
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He lets Yoongi go afterward, reaching down between them for Yoongi's hand and tugging them a little further down the length of the tank. He can't remember why they're here at this specific spot anymore, but with so much time ahead of them this weekend, there's no rush. It's not long before Jungkook finds a couple of bright orange fish weaving in and out between a series of stacked stones, and he crouches to get a better look. There's something playful about the movement, and Jungkook tilts his head along, sharp little motions that mimic the quick flick of their tails.
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He follows along as they move down the hall, following Jungkook's lead to kneel down in front of some bright fish, though his attention soon turns to Jungkook and trying to hold back a laugh. Sometimes there's an unguardedness to Jungkook that Yoongi envies as much as he loves it. It's charming and it's not something he has much of, unless surrounded by friends. Letting loose around the others is easy, but this isn't for him, mimicking fish in public. But it's Jungkook and he loves that.
"Are those clownfish?"
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As soon as he says it, Jungkook blinks to find a few more kids crowding in, pressing their hands and faces up against the glass and repeating the name to their parents. Jungkook quickly backs up and out of the way, laughing as he reaches for Yoongi's hand to help himself back up to his feet.
"Wow, I guess that's the magic word," he grins, scratching at the back of his neck. "Bet those movies really pushed more kids to visit the aquarium."
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"That's nice," he says, entirely sincere as he heads further down the hall. "More interest in this kind of stuff is a good thing." He doesn't know a ton about fish, except that they look cool, but getting kids interested younger means more people interested in conservation and stuff, he figures. "Oh! Over here." He tugs at Jungkook's hand, leading him down a darker stretch of hallway to a tank that's glowing faintly, jellyfish bobbing silently through the water. He wouldn't want to encounter one in the wild, but in the dim light, their translucent skin faintly pink and iridescent, they're undeniably cool.
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Slinging an arm around the back of Yoongi's waist, Jungkook pulls him closer, his lips slightly parted in awe as he stares up at a jellyfish hovering near the top of the tank.
"They look so... delicate," Jungkook remarks, tilting his head. "And a lot prettier down here than when they wash up onto the beach. I wonder why their bodies are all... I don't know, curly and almost lacy? They look like really fancy umbrellas."
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He cracks a smile at the comparison, head tipping to the side as he eyes the jellyfish, imagining them as fancy little cocktail umbrellas or parasols. "There has to be some kind of advantage to it, right?" he asks. "That's how nature works. But you'd think being that... delicate, that translucent, would be a disadvantage. Or maybe predators can't see them very well?" He wonders what even eats a jellyfish when so many of them sting. Seals, maybe. Slipping an arm over Jungkook's shoulders, he reaches out with his other hand to touch the glass. "Maybe it's easier to get away."
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