lovestrippedbare | 𝕒 𝕡𝕚𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕖

Entry tags:

yoongi

𝕒 𝕡𝕚𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕖

It takes a while before Jungkook decides on exactly what to bring to Yoongi's place. He already feels a little foolish, having overlooked the fact that Yoongi surely doesn't have the same luxury of time that they did before — that they probably should have been more mindful of even then, as hindsight tells them now. Even if Yoongi doesn't live in a place that requires rent, it's clear that he still needs to work enough to pay for food and drink, and perhaps for shelter as well on nights that aren't as forgiving in climate. There probably aren't many jobs so willing to part with money when their employee doesn't have a permanent address.

The thought halts Jungkook's hand as he reaches out towards the store shelves. To bring too much now might only make Yoongi feel worse about his position, and Jungkook needs to be thoughtful with what exactly he brings, at that. Nothing too perishable. Maybe something warm, Jungkook thinks, that can heat up with a bit of water from an electric kettle.

A few bowls of ramyeon, various flavors. Several rolls of kimbap that Jungkook tells himself he'll partake of equally, so that Yoongi feels less burdened. Chips, chocolate, banana milk and soda. Next time, he'll bring something a little healthier, but for now, Jungkook's primary objective is to check out as quickly as possible, rushing on his way to Yoongi's place, even though he's already gotten the warning that Yoongi might not show up until well after dark.

No matter. By the time he shows up at the building, Jungkook seats himself on an abandoned plastic crate, sipping at his carton of milk while he opens up his textbooks, using the remaining light from the day to get started on his homework. For once, it feels like the effort won't be in vain.

Just three more months and he'll have graduated, and this won't be a dance that there's any more need to play.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

It's not untrue that Yoongi is at work into the evening. If that's the case, though, it's because he volunteered for it to be. It's yet another act of cowardice and he knows it, guilt burning through him for every moment of his shift. Texts from Jungkook only make it worse. He wants so badly to be the man Jungkook fell in love with, but he was stronger then, stronger than he thought he was. All that's left of him is this frightened asshole, hiding away from the offer of unconditional love.

Because what happens when Jungkook spends more time with him, gets to know this new Yoongi? What happens when he sees how he's changed, the kind of life he now leads? Maybe there are conditions after all.

And he can't stomach that. Bad enough to lose Jungkook and god knows he's already disappointed him enough, hurt him enough, but he's not sure he can stand to watch Jungkook's opinion of him change.

Usually when he works, he's able to tune out and let the time fly by, another day pointlessly gone. But today all he has is the thought of Jungkook and the words he keeps coming back to: Stay gone. He should have. He shouldn't have gone into that music store, no matter how badly he wanted to see Jungkook again. At least as long as he was gone, Jungkook stood a chance of moving on one day. How can he if he knows how to find Yoongi? It's selfish not to want him to do so.

And there will be questions and Yoongi doesn't know how he'll answer those. Doesn't know if any answer he gives could ever satisfy. He was a coward. He ran. He's still a coward. He's still running.

running late, he texts, heart in his throat, thick with guilt. sorry. maybe tomorrow? ♥

The smile fades from Jungkook's lips once he's fumbled for his phone, cleared away the screen to find Yoongi's words. Too brief, too vague. Jungkook tries to remind himself that a few words is still infinitely more than he had over the past couple of years, but fear wins out immediately — fear, that Yoongi regrets their reunion. That he's going to shut Jungkook out again.

That Jungkook no longer has what it takes to get through to him.

It's hard not to wonder what's changed. Two years ago, Yoongi would never have turned an opportunity to see Jungkook down, even if it meant breaking rules, disappointing others. Jungkook worries at his lower lip until he can taste the metallic on his tongue, huffs a breath that barely passes for a laugh, and instead nearly sounds like a sob.

It's just one day, he tells himself, letting words stand where emotions can't. Believe him. Like you should have believed in him for these past two years.

With a soft breath, Jungkook takes the time to parse out the food in his bag, stuffing the kimbap into his backpack (it might not last into the night) while leaving the rest. Places the bag carefully by Yoongi's door. He's run into no one else here at the building; there's no reason to think that Yoongi won't find the food when he returns.

okay. ♥
i love you
tomorrow, then ♥

He tries to keep the conversation lighter the next day. Little remarks about the old lady with the shop between their houses, who scolds Jungkook whenever she sees him out, as though assuming he's playing truant or otherwise getting up to 'bad business.' She used to be kinder to him, Jungkook remembers, before he started hanging out with all of his hyungs.

i'm pretty sure she judges people by their hair color

But when the sky starts to grow dark, Jungkook finds himself inevitably turning back in the direction of Yoongi's building, intent on trying again. There's less in his bag, this time — just kimbap, a couple pieces of fruit. Things that he can easily take back to his house with him, without suspicion, if it comes to that.

Not that it should. It's Friday, after all, no major obligations waiting for him the next day.

hey, no rush, but i'm in your part of town
let me know when you're off work? ♥

Somehow, the more he wants to see Jungkook, the less inclined Yoongi is to let himself. Over the months, the years, the sound of his phone chiming with a text has become terrifying. It might be nothing, just the company he works for. Every now and then, though, it's Jungkook, and the possibility of that leaves him on edge even before he looks at his phone and remembers this is supposed to be okay now. It gets easier as the day wears on, but that's essentially the only thing that does.

He said he'd stay. He said he wouldn't hide anymore, and here he is, doing exactly that. How many broken promises before Jungkook gives up on him entirely? He doesn't really want to find out, longs to fall back into his arms and apologize for yesterday. To admit he was just afraid.

But he still is. He's too weak for this. The more Jungkook needs him, the more frightened he becomes, anxiety clawing at his throat as he hesitates to answer. He needs to try, he tells himself. Wasn't it always worth it? Whatever pain they felt, whatever they endured, they did so together. And they were fine.

Until they weren't. Until Yoongi broke his vows. The others can't trust him; he already told Jungkook as much. Now he wonders if he can even trust himself. It's hard to know anymore which voices are lying, which are right. Isn't it kinder to let Jungkook down now than it would be to let them depend on each other again before he destroys everything?

But it fucking hurts. He came home the night before to a bag of food and nearly cried. Jungkook is still trying to take care of him. And he knows Jungkook would never say it, would never even entertain the idea that it might be true, because he's a better person than Yoongi ever was, but it feels like too much, like Yoongi is already a burden, trying to drag him down.

Is it better to disappoint him now or later? Does taking care of him mean letting him go? If Yoongi lets him in, isn't that just because of his selfish need not to be alone?

As if being alone bothers him anymore. It's being without Jungkook that hurts.

He used to tell him when it was bad, and that made it better. Somewhere along the way, though, everything got worse. It's more than anyone should have to bear for him. He stares at the text for a long time, trying to figure out how to respond, turning over responses in his head. Ones where he admits everything. Versions of his life where he doesn't say anything at all, just disappears again.

i love you

It's the only thing he can think of that he doesn't immediately erase, wishing he hadn't sent it so soon as he fumbles for something more. He needs space to think, to process, but that's hard to get when he's fighting himself. There's nowhere he can turn, and the only person he trusts to hold his hand through these kinds of thoughts is the person he's shutting out.

it's a bad night

Jungkook used to hold him through those, wrapped in his arms until Yoongi's breathing eased, until he started to feel real again.

i think i need to deal with it alone
tomorrow?
sorry

He's already on Yoongi's doorstep when the text comes. The first leaves him smiling, though it's tentative and unsure — those three words can be said with so many different tones, and it's hard to say which is being used here. Whatever hope he had is immediately struck down with the next text, and the few following that, each a blow that leaves Jungkook feeling unbalanced. He slides to a seat by Yoongi's front door, head leaning back until it hits the frame. A couple of times, Jungkook repeats this motion, waiting for his thoughts to settle.

Years ago, Yoongi would have come to him for the bad days. An arrangement that took some time for Yoongi to accept, not wanting to drag Jungkook down with him, constantly worried that he was more trouble than he was worth. It isn't hard to imagine that the walls Yoongi built around himself are stretched higher now, and that too much time has elapsed for him to fall back into the regular routine of letting Jungkook be there to help.

Maybe if he sits here, waits the night — waits until the two of them are face to face — then Yoongi might relent. Might let him in.

But might is the operative word here. What if waiting against Yoongi's explicit request only drives him further away?

What if not waiting gives Yoongi the time to run?

yoongi-ah

His fingers linger over the screen, and Jungkook's teeth pull at his chapped lips, worrying the skin.

you know that i would rather be there for all the nights, right?
even the bad ones
i love you

Jungkook locks the screen quickly, turning it to black, and rests his forehead against his knees while he waits for a response.

It's not a lie really. It's a bad night, the kind where Yoongi feels like he's trying to crawl out of his own skin. He lingers at the bus stop after he gets off and lights a cigarette, hoping it'll calm him down, but his hands still shake. What he wants more than anything is to invite Jungkook in, to regain the safety he once knew. It never made the pain go away completely, but it helped, reminded him there was someone who loved him through all of it.

And Jungkook thinks he can still be that, but Yoongi's less certain. It's not like he doesn't know how unappealing his coping mechanisms would be to someone else, probably even to Jungkook. Curling up on the floor with a cigarette and whiskey might not make things much better, but it's something. If he turns to Jungkook again, he'll only drag him down with him, and maybe he'll see what a mistake this is.

Fuck, maybe he should let him come over. But there's a far cry between knowing Jungkook is better off without him and wanting to prove it definitively.

i know
i just don't think i know how anymore
i'm okay. i will be.

He won't. If he loses Jungkook, he really might as well just die. But if he lets him in, he'll hurt him, and that's just as bad. He won't be okay. He can't be okay.

i just need to sleep or something

Jungkook stares at his phone, at the words that keep pushing up the screen. All of them feel like lines that Yoongi's using to convince himself that he'll be able to pull through without needing to involve Jungkook. Without making things difficult for Jungkook. It feels like an extension of the two years they spent apart, the image easily filling in the gaps and spaces left from before — these must have been the excuses Yoongi told himself to keep away, and that in of itself makes it hard for Jungkook to breathe, worrying when the next opportunity to see Yoongi will actually come.

i want to be there for you

He pauses, biting down on his lip.

i love you
tomorrow, okay?

And tomorrow does come, though with hope stretched thin, expectations few and far between. Jungkook takes a different tactic today, sending only links to songs over the course of the day, waiting until long after the sun sets before he makes his way to Yoongi's place.

Because maybe it'll be easier to convince Yoongi to let him stay if he's there, face to face.

Easier to convince Yoongi that Jungkook wants to be here, if Yoongi has the chance to look into Jungkook's eyes and see the conviction there.

So Jungkook approaches quietly, taking a small breath as he stares at his phone, fingers hovering over the screen before he clicks it off and slides it into his pocket. Walks up to the door, shutting his eyes and knocking tentatively on the door.

The night is a long one. Whatever Yoongi might have said — and maybe it was true, that he just needed to sleep this off — sleep came only in fits and starts. It isn't until the sun is high in the sky that he falls asleep, napping on and off through the day. None of it seems especially satisfying; he wakes feeling groggy and disoriented each time, and still he lets himself drift off again. It's not like he has anything else to do. When he's awake, all he does is worry, so why not just sleep his life away?

He's awake, though, when the knock comes, flicking the sparkwheel on his lighter and watching the flame leap and subside. He nearly drops it at the sound of a knock, unexpected as it is. No one visits him here. No one even knows he's here.

Except Jungkook.

Yoongi's heart jumps into his throat even as his stomach drops, punctuated by a flare of guilt. There have been songs coming in through text on and off through the day, and he's listened to them whenever he's awake, at once comforted and pained by them. Jungkook still loves him. It's all he's wanted for so long, so why can't he just let him in? Why can't he just ignore the part of him that knows doing so is selfish and let himself seek some form of happiness? It's been so fucking long.

He gets up and pads quietly across the concrete toward the door, hesitating a few feet away. Why should Jungkook have to put up with this? He doesn't know how to be a person, how to be a boyfriend. How to support Jungkook the way he deserves. Anxiety claws at his ribs, pull his heart tight so he can hardly breathe. Being with Jungkook again is all he wants, so why can't he fucking make himself open the door?

He should have left the door unlocked, taken away his own choice in the matter. Instead he manages the last few feet only to sink down against the wall beside the door, trying to take in a deep enough breath to ease the panic. There's no right answer, no version of this story that ends with both of them happy. He pulls his knees up to his chest, curling in on himself, wishing Jungkook were holding him instead.

There are little, unfinished touches to the building. Jungkook's pretty sure they never fully insulated the place, his own steps having echoed far too loudly in the halls. No ventilation system, leaving the air a touch stale. But what he notices now is the small gap between Yoongi's door and the floor below, no weatherstripping to keep the draft from flowing in or out. And, as it turns out, nothing to block the light that shines underneath.

It's possible that Yoongi left the light on over the course of the day, that he knew he was returning home late and so wanted to provide himself something for his eyes as he slipped back into his place. But Yoongi has a phone, has the flashlight there, and so Jungkook can't help but think that the likelier reason for the light is that Yoongi's inside.

Yoongi's inside, but he isn't coming to the door.

Won't be coming to the door.

Jungkook's gasping for air before he can help himself, leaning forward, forehead pressed to the cold metal of the door as he knocks against it again, the sound softer this time. Little more than a thud from the heel of his palm. "Please, Min-ah," he begs, his voice cracking.

He had believed the two years apart would remain the most painful experience he's ever lived, but now Jungkook can't help but feel that this is worse. To know where Yoongi is, and to know that for some reason, Yoongi doesn't want to see him.

He's too pathetic. Too suffocating. Too much, and so Jungkook takes a step back, one hand over his mouth to stifle his uneven breathing as he turns and starts back down the hall.

The sound of Jungkook's voice is enough to make Yoongi feel like his heart is shattering. He sounds so sad, so hurt, and Yoongi can't even bring himself to be there for him. To fix his own mess. Even his body seems to betray him; he wants to reach out, to slip his fingers beneath the door so Jungkook can see him, or to reach up and open the door. Instead he stays balled up, his face hidden against a knee. Even if he could do it, would he? He can barely breathe. How could he bring himself to let Jungkook see him like this, least of all when Jungkook is why he's so fucking anxious?

He hates that most, perhaps, of everything about himself now. That he could be anxious about the one person who's ever brought him real comfort from his fears is impossibly cruel and nothing he seems able to change, just another weakness, another flaw, built into him now. Another reason not to inflict himself on Jungkook.

"I can't," he mumbles into denim, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Footsteps retreat and if Jungkook leaves now, Yoongi has the feeling he might never come back, and then what's the point? What the fuck is Yoongi living for if he's going to let things end like this? What use is he to Jungkook if he doesn't have the strength it takes anymore to be there for him?

Why would he come back? Yoongi won't even open the door.

Can't, maybe, his body too tense for movement, his throat too tight for words.

This is better, he tries to tell himself. Jungkook can move on now. And if Yoongi doesn't really want him to, that's just him being selfish. In the end, Jungkook is better off without him, no matter what he might think. Yoongi's not even sure how much longer he'll be around anyway. They love each other, but the voice in the back of his head says it's not enough. He's not enough. Maybe Jungkook will see that now.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

𝕒 𝕡𝕚𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕖

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject