Jungkook’s face is illuminated by the blue light of the screen in front of him. Everything around him is slowly, finally fitting into place. He watches the phone in front of him, messages flooding in from Taehyung. He can see a bottle of Soju left out on the small kitchen table as he looks back down at the phone screen, it’s a joke, it has to be.
They’re supposed to be fine, everything’s supposed to be okay. He wishes that he could go see Taehyung, but he doesn’t think he has the strength. Tears blur his vision, everything is too much for him, this isn’t true, everything he’s being told are lies. Taehyung always likes to joke, but no, apparently all that they’d done over the past year and a half had been nothing but a joke to him.
He doesn’t know when it happened, but he isn’t stupid, no, he’d known there was something going on with Taehyung. There had to have been, why else would he constantly dodge the countless times he’d said ‘i love you’. Why else would he not tell Jungkook what was going on, but like a fool he had ignored it. Now here he is, hugging a throw pillow to his chest as he reads over messages from Taehyung, every single one of them twisting the knife in his heart. He doesn’t want to process the words but he can’t help but open the chat, throwing his phone onto the ground beside him.
He thinks of how fucking obvious it had been now, been that there was someone else in Taehyung’s life. Someone who wasn’t Jungkook, someone who could probably treat Taehyung better than Jungkook ever could. He says his name over and over on his tongue, he knows who and Taehyung knows he does. But he just doesn’t want to believe it.
His name’s Park Jimin, a dance major who he’s never met before, he hates him already. Taehyung’s apologies don’t mean anything to him, they shouldn’t mean anything. Taehyung shouldn’t love someone else, he should only love Jungkook, not Jimin.
Jungkook I’m sorry.
Baby please answer me.
He just stays there, on the couch looking at the bottle of Soju that’s already unopened on the counter, it’d feel good to drink, to let go, to just forget the last year and a half. It'd feel good to bury himself in someone else, maybe it would bring him peace. He knows that Taehyung doesn’t want him anymore, so what would even be the point in staying. There’s no reason for either of them to be here, there’s no reason for him to torture himself like this.
He reaches over for his phone and there are no new messages on his phone, there’s just a picture him and Taehyung had taken together. He tries not to think about it but he can feel tears sliding down his face, and they’re landing on his phone screen as he types through blurred vision.
He needs to do this, he won’t let Taehyung do it, he matters more than Taehyung’s feelings right now, he doesn’t want to be tortured anymore.
Let’s break up.
Yoongi feels his heart cracking, everything around him turning to black when he hears those words come from Jimin’s mouth. He decides he didn’t hear them properly, they’re not real to him, they’re not there. Jimin’s just lying to him. This isn’t real, Jimin is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, the most beautiful man he’s ever met and he’s sitting across from Yoongi with a sad smile on his face, nothing but pity in his eyes as he watches him fall apart.
He tries to piece everything together, tries to piece together why he was never good enough for him, he always did everything that he could to keep him happy. Was that not enough? But then again, he knows that enough is never enough, it’s never been. He should’ve seen this coming, everyone he’s been with, everyone he’s ever loved has left him. First it was his family when they found out about his dreams, then it was Daehyun who’d been the first person to actually care, then it had been Hongbin who’d been kind enough to allow Yoongi to heal before moving forward and now Jimin’s name is added to that list. He doesn’t want to cry, he’s strong, he’s used to this, but like always, he can feel the tears falling down his cheeks, moving along his jawline, to his chin until they finally fall to the ground.
“Y-You what Jiminie?”
He looks up through his tears and sees Jimin reaching to touch his shoulder and for the first time since they’d met, he moves away from the touch. He can’t trust Jimin, just like everyone else, he’s been left alone too often.
“You heard what I said Yoongi…”
He heard, but he doesn’t want to believe it. No, he can’t believe it, he can’t even process it. He always knew that he didn’t deserve Jimin, the man with the perfect face and beautiful personality. The man who would celebrate every time that Yoongi would eat, the man who would celebrate the smallest victories. The man who had the most beautiful crescent moons under his eyes whenever he smiles, that man who means so much to Yoongi loves someone else.
Someone by the name of Kim Taehyung and not Min Yoongi.
It stings, it hurts and he feels his bottom lip start to tremble and he just bites into it, trying to keep calm. He can’t, he won’t let whoever stole Jimin away live with it, no, Jimin belongs to him, not anyone else.
“You have to let me go Yoongs, I’m so sorry..”
“If you were the right person, you wouldn’t fall in love with someone else.”
Jungkook doesn’t see Taehyung much after that, if at all, he keeps his distance. He knows that Taehyung had wanted to remain friends, but no, that’s too much for him. Maybe in a few months, but a few weeks after, when he still stays up crying instead of studying? When he still gets drunk and fucks strangers so he can cope? No, no it’s too soon. So he moves through the small hallways that seem giant, he moves through the crowds making his way to his lecture theatre.
When he sits down he realises how wrong he feels, he has nothing to do. He and Taehyung always used to flirt and tease each other during classes from different university campuses, but no, it’s a completely different story nowadays.
Taehyung never comes here anymore, he’s seen him waiting around the dorms once or twice and Jungkook didn’t even acknowledge him, not at all. He’d just walked right past, waited until he was gone so he could sob to himself as he got a bottle of Jinro Gold out from his fridge.
Drinking’s been better to him than Taehyung ever was, or ever could be.
He throws his head back, allowing the cocaine to drip down the back of his throat, causing a numb buzzing feeling to move all through his skull. He feels like his head's floating. He can see everything and he feels his senses sharpen, he feels like he’s above it all, like everything is within his control. It’s been too long since he’s felt in control, so as he goes out in the crowd, he finds someone.
He can’t see them properly under the light, the only thing he can tell is that they have light grey hair that changes colours in the light. He feels them push back against him and his hands immediately go to their hips. He lets out a small purr at the feel of their soft stomach underneath his hands as he starts kissing down their neck slowly. He can hear small mewls of want, can feel the way their throat’s vibrating against his lips as small sounds come from the other person.
To say he feels good right now, he feels like a fucking god. He can see, hear and feel everything, he pulls his lips off of their neck and notices that he’s wearing a silver chain with a cross on the end of it. He wonders if this man believes in god, or if he just wears it for aesthetics. He doesn’t know, but the man definitely is beautiful. He notices the way he reaches around, turning around to look at Jungkook, his fingers immediately reaching for his cock, trying to undo the buttons and zipper of his jeans.
It’s quick, fast and dirty, Jungkook has the man pushed against the wall of the bathrooms in the club, riding out his high as he pushes himself inside him, his walls warm and wet around his cock as he slowly starts fucking into him. The noises he makes are beautiful, little purrs and whines when he angles himself just right and hits against his prostate, he has to hold him up so his knees don’t buckle underneath him. He fucks him hard and brutally, trying not to think of Taehyung when he feels him tighten, he’s sure the people outside the small cubicle can hear them, but he doesn’t care. He can feel everything, he can hear every little sound, his high slowly dwindling as he pushes himself right inside, spilling inside him watching as his cum slowly trickles down his thighs onto the ground.
When Yoongi wakes up he feels an ache and there’s dry cum on his stomach and chest, he only grumbles to himself, first heading for the showers. He doesn’t remember much about the night before, but he does remember the smell of piss, sweat and alcohol in the bathrooms. He remembers how it had felt to have someone fuck him for the first time since Jimin had left him. He almost felt free with the revelation that he could move on. He feels a small amount of pride when he sees the purple and brown marks all on his shoulder and collarbones.
He can’t help but wonder who, who that was and how far away from him they were, in that bathroom cubicle he’d felt on top of the world. Like he was being fucked by a god, like he was being given what he deserved for allowing himself to go out and get blackout drunk. He smiles to himself as he scrubs at his body, the scent of sweat and cum being replaced by lavender, oddly the soft scent reminds him of Daegu, he doesn’t know why. So he moves throughout the apartment, throwing on clothes that are too big for him and grabbing his backpack from next to the door so he can get to work on his small self project with Namjoon.
He doesn’t feel the strange emptiness he’s been feeling in the past weeks, and he’s shocked. He’d been fucked in a cubicle by a stranger and he finds that empowering? Strange. He doesn’t send anyone the usual hellos and he just sits right down at his own small desk, the equipment around him already prepared. Usually he’d get mad someone had left it all out but right now, he doesn’t care. So he just sits down and gets to work, allowing the stranger from the night before to completely leave his thoughts.
On the way home, he sees two people waiting outside the dorms on the way to his and he can hear shouting. He doesn’t bother listening, it’s not his business. He doesn’t recognise the man with the lavender hair knocking on the door at the end of the hall, but he does recognise the person standing in front of him. He tries to slink away and he thinks he’s succeeded, but then he hears his name called and he can’t but turn around, forever weak for that voice.
“How’ve you been, Yoongi?”
“I’ve been okay, why’re you here?”
He can see him fidgeting with the bottom of his sweater, a nervous habit.
“Taehyung needed to pick up some stuff from Jungkook.”
That’s when Yoongi looks up and sees who he assumes to be Taehyung, the one with the lilac hair trying to reason with whoever’s behind the door and he just wants to leave. He feels distant from the situation, he feels like he doesn’t even know Jimin anymore, he feels like Jimin isn’t his anymore, and he isn’t.
Every night Jimin’s been cosying up to another warm body, kissing someone else, his lips but are only a memory to Yoongi nowadays.
Jimin has someone, Yoongi has no one.
He catches a glimpse of black hair and golden skin, coming out of the apartment and right up to him and Jimin. He can see his eyes red rimmed and there are tear tracks down his face, he doesn’t acknowledge Yoongi at first.
“Fucking leave me alone, Taehyung I don’t give a rat’s ass about your stuff, it’ll be in a box outside the door next week.”
When he turns around he doesn’t even send Yoongi a hello, he just runs back to his room and slams the door. Yoongi decides to just slink away in that moment, leaving Jimin with no words, no ‘i love you’ and no goodbye. It doesn’t feel alien, but it doesn’t feel right, it feels empty, there are words to say but he couldn’t speak them. Even if he tried they’d just get caught in his throat, they always do.
Jungkook recognised the man who had been standing with Jimin, he recognises his pale skin and the shape of his lips. He remembers his eyes and the way his hair colour appeared to be changing with the light. He remembers his purrs of delight as he fucked into him slowly, he remembers smells of sweat, piss and cum. He remembers everything, the way it had felt to have complete control, the way he had been able to see and hear everything.
It had all just fallen into place, everything had clicked together, everything had felt right during that high, during that deadly mix of alcohol and cocaine. Everything had been better, his high had been more intense than any other he’s experienced, he had felt more in control, he’d felt so much stronger in that moment. A moment of fleeting stability after weeks of drinking alone, weeks of going to clubs with no one.
He wonders if they’d recognised him, he remembers that they never really got to see his face in the light, when he turned around to look at Jungkook it had probably been shadowed by the light. For some reason he finds closure in this, in the thought of someone as beautiful as that. With pale skin and grey hair, skin that had been soft and supple underneath his fingers.
He finds himself wondering what their smile’s like, he finds himself wondering how he takes his coffee and he wonders what other mysteries follow him. Why he thought getting fucked in a club bathroom without a condom was safe, he wonders and he keeps thinking. He feels a weight lifted off of his shoulders, the hurt from Taehyung is still there and probably will always be there. But there’s hope for him, there are other people, there are more things in life than Taehyung.
Taehyung would run around at six in the morning screaming because he got one thing wrong while working on his folio, who would sing to him sweetly before bed, who would make sure he ate every meal. He misses him, but he has to move on eventually.
So whenever he gets up he moves to watch the parking lot from his small window, never bothering his room mate who’s barely actually sharing with him. He’s always off with someone else, Jungkook never knows what he’s doing so when he wakes up to see coffee and eggs served on the small breakfast bar they share and he just sees a small smile.
“Glad to see you’re up and running again.”
He just nods in thanks before sitting down, he doesn’t feel his usual grogginess or an ache in his limbs. He wonders if he should go out again, he wants to experience the same feelings. He wants to experience the alertness, the awareness and the breathlessness. He wants to lose himself to the shadows, blending in with unknown figures and let something new take over.
He moves the plate to take his usual seat next to the window, he never sees him, but hopefully perchance he will this time. Though he can’t stay as long as usual due to his own classes, he at least knows he’s at the same university, and that’s enough for Jungkook.
Yoongi hadn’t meant to run into anyone, he was just taking the rubbish out. He definitely wasn’t dressed for it either, in plaid pyjama bottoms that are slightly too big for him and an oversized campus hoodie he stolen from Hoseok engulfing his frame. Now there’s someone standing in front of him for the first time in what feels like years. It isn’t Hoseok, his roommate, or Jimin trying to make polite conversation but someone who he’s seen before.
It’s the man from the club, the man who reminds him of sweat and dancing. The man who had made him feel beautiful as they fucked in one of the most disgusting places he can think of. He doesn’t say anything when he sees a small smile appear on his face, his eyes wandering up Yoongi’s body, and finally resting on his face and he feels his heart do a backflip when he sees his smile. His eyes light up and it almost reminds him of a bunny’s.
“Jeon Jungkook, I had the pleasure of fucking you while high on cocaine and drunk on cheap alcohol.”
There was something there for the two of them. They finally knew how to be free, they knew how it felt to love someone who really loved you, how it felt to be able to trust someone completely and perfectly.
From that moment on, when Yoongi was dressed in oversized pyjama pants underneath a flickering hall light, and from that moment Jungkook found him, they were inseparable.
Love can be found in the strangest of places if you look hard enough.