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Polly Pocket Knife

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It’s nothing. It’s nothing, but it’s still something god.


It’s something. Enough to hold on to at least. And it’s his, his, his, nobody else's.


He swore to himself, crossed his heart hoped to die, fought with anyone who ever told him any different. He said ‘I’ll never ask them for help. Once I turn 18, that’s it, I’m out I’m gone sayofuckinnara, bitches. If I never see you again it’ll be too soon’. All of that cheesy pathetic shit, because it felt so fucking good and like he needed to say it. Like he had all this pent up fucking damage inside and he just needed to say something and finally let some of it out or, or, or—


“That would be it, you know? Neighbor’s got this pool, man. All blue and inviting, waterfalls and rocks and shit and he’s just such. a. prick.  And I’d spend so much time just staring at it. Summertime and my windows got the perfect view of it and I just thought, I thought so many times that—well, fuck it, fuck him. It’s not like he uses it anyway.”


Or he’d wind up so far he’d spin out.


Oh, but here he is. Here he fucking is calling his mom because he’s a twenty-two-year old college drop out that can’t even afford his own goddamn groceries and he’s so stubborn that’s he managed to live off of one pack of ramen and half a bag of m&m’s for four days before he was too good and dizzy to stop himself from dialing her number (with shaking hands like his body was still trying to fight it). And he’s just in so much pain that he can’t even move from his spot on the floor. He’s pathetic, defeated in every way he could possibly come up with. And he’s creative, he’d come up with a million.


His eyes flutter open and shut as he stares up at the ceiling fan. So slow, but at least he has one, it’s better than nothing. He says that a lot to himself “it’s better than nothing” it’s a real contender for his next bio on whatever social media account he decides to make next (as if there will magically be chiller people there than there were on any of the last ones).


“Yoongi—are you sure living here is—is it safe here? this isn’t a good area—I just—where did you get this couch from? the side of the road—is that a street sign? you can’t have a street sign in here that’s—I don’t want my son in jail you need to put it back ! I could go to jail just for knowing you have it like you know, accessory?—anyways I have to get home because it’s almost noon already and your dad should be up by now—he’s not doing good by the way he keeps saying he’s going to die soon and I can’t believe him like what kind of load of crap is that really he refuses to go back to the hospital—it would be nice if you came and saw us every now and again? I pray for you every day, you really need to put your trust in God to get you out of this situation, Jesus loves you Yoongi. Well okay I’ll go now, I gotta go, and...I love you too. Goodbye.”


The fridge creaks when he opens it but it’s nice to see how it looks when it isn’t so empty. A jug of 2% milk, water bottles, an opened can of PBR. A bag of apples, containers of his mother’s cooking—leftovers maybe? but food, good food, food that makes him feel like everything’s going to be okay when he eats it because memories be damned his mother’s cooking will always make him feel like a child again. Safe, secure, free. Even if his childhood really wasn’t. It wasn’t but there’s lunchables and that just honestly makes him laugh. It hurts his chest. He hasn’t laughed in awhile.


Yoongi heads to the roof. It’s quiet up here, sort of, the traffic is actually quite loud but it’s soothing in a way because he’s not down there, he’s up here, away from it all. Away from the daily chaos of life. He sits with his legs crossed, plays with the cellophane on his Newport’s and just stares at them, the water bottle, the lunchable, neat and untouched on the concrete floor. His chest his heaving, he’s so hungry. But it’s just—


“My parents? Nah, dude. I made it this far without them, right? Besides...they probably wouldn’t pick up the phone.”


It’s just that he swore it would never come to this. Yoongi huffs and peels the plastic cover open. Pizza. That was his favorite as a kid. It’s funny how he calls her to tell her he’s starving and she goes and buys him junk food like she doesn’t remember that he’s older now and a lot less picky than he was back then. He draws a sad face on the crust with the sauce packet. Sprinkles the toppings on it haphazardly and takes a bite. It tastes like giving up. It tastes like survival.



“What’d he want?” Yoongi asks and really, what doesn’t his boss want these days? Yoongi can’t complain. He’s getting more hours, he shouldn’t complain. He kicks a few rocks, leans his head against the brick wall. “It’s fucking hot out here.”


Good ol’ Johnny. Just a tall, sandy brunette with a foul mouth. Mostly he’s Yoongi’s co-worker but sometimes, sometimes Yoongi thinks they might be friends.


“Yeah. He—” Johnny crinkles his nose and waves the smoke out of his face. “You ever gonna quit that shit?”


No. Nope. I mean, I’m trying to, I’ve really been trying to quit them but they just won’t seem to let me go. Why are you asking? Are you trying to say that you care?


Do you care about me?


Yoongi smirks and flicks a few ashes onto the sidewalk. “I’ll quit when you quit being a miserable piece of shit. What’d Jeon say?”


Johnny grins but he clearly doesn’t mean it. It makes Yoongi smile for real. He’s smiles even broader when Johnny tries to snatch the cigarette out of Yoongi’s fingers and fails. “Too slow.”


Johnny laughs and punches him in the side. It’s playful right? That’s what men do. That’s what Yoongi’s boss would say if he were here. Yoongi pretends it doesn’t sting. Drops his cigarette to the ground, let’s it burn for a few beats before he crushes it with his converse.


“That’s Mr. Jeon to you, respect your elders, bro, he’s like pushing sixty.”


Yoongi rolls his eyes. He doubts his boss is that old. He has this pretty wife that comes into the shop sometimes, looks kinda young maybe forty at the most, but that probably doesn’t mean anything. She might just look young for her age or maybe she is young and she just fell in love with him anyway. They’ve got a son too, Jungkook. Yoongi’s never met him. He’s not sure how old he is either.


“Anyways,” Johnny’s saying, “He’s got this job out in Colorado. Needs a few people to fix up his cabin or some shit. If he thinks I’m goin’ to Colorado, he needs to get his fuckin’ head checked.”


“Damn.” Yoongi feels it like, just this weird feeling in his chest. This awkward tangling of emotions that make him feel like he’s getting seasick on land, right where he is under the beating sun, nowhere near the water. “Colorado.” He repeats aloud, lost in his thoughts, lost in trying to get a grasp on how he even feels about it. “How long?”


Johnny squints in the sun, unhooks his baseball cap from his belt loop and places it on his head to block the rays. He’s not looking at Yoongi, they’re not looking at each other. Both of them are just staring out at the highway. “Said a week but knowing him…”


“Two weeks.” Yoongi nods his head. “Damn.” Just damn.


“Look, if you don’t wanna go, don’t. I sure as shit ain’t gonna freeze my balls off in some deserted cabin up in the mountains.”


“Right.” Yoongi says breathlessly. He wants another cigarette. He can’t think straight. It’s too fucking hot outside.


Is here so great? What’s so great about here? Nothing, nothing, nothing, not a damn thing.


“Wouldn’t worry about it.” Johnny pats him on the back just a little too hard. One of those little reminders that they’re just friends. ‘Just bros’ that’s it, nothing more. Never will be. “Said he might have his kid do the job if he doesn’t get enough people to sign up. Just avoid him and ride it out.”


Yoongi’s alone again. Sweat dripping down his skin, salt and nicotine in his mouth. He thinks, what’s the difference? Being alone here, being alone there, what’s the difference?




At the desk, they take a picture of Yoongi. Don’t even warn him just click, and then he sees his blank face printing out in black and white. It’s one of those label name tags, says ‘My Child’ on it. Yoongi stares at the office woman, she only just winks at him. She’s got it all wrong. She must be under some far-fetched impression that Yoongi’s a good son. That Yoongi’s actually willing to be here and support his mother, that he’s wishing his father gets well soon. He’s not sure if he is. He’s not sure if he’s ever been a good son, ever been a good person. He’s just here because, because ever since he got the news his chest has been burning and he feels like he—


“They’re only human, right? I mean, aren’t we all just fuckups trying to get through one more day?”


He feels like he doesn’t want to be here but being anywhere else would be that much more suffocating. He needs to be here. Just once. One time, he’ll endure it and that’s it, that’s it, that’s it. He’ll finally be able to breathe, just a tiny bit easier. He’s holding on to hope that he’s right.


His mother sort of lets out an exasperated laugh and then unpeels it, presses it down on Yoongi’s chest, too close to his heart for comfort. Her manicure is a bit chipped, fingers a bit more warm and wrinkled than they used to be. He thinks, well, he’s not a kid anymore, jesus christ, that’s what he really thinks.


Hospitals and churches and high schools. Three places that Yoongi really dreads walking into. They all make him feel like, like he’s got all this shit to work through, all these awful memories and like he’s nowhere near the person that he wanted to be the last time he was there. Like he needs fucking therapy and like he seriously needs to fucking cry. Like he’s just someone who’s never truly faced anything. Like he hasn’t moved on he’s just been running away, running for so long and somehow he ended up right back at the starting line.


It hurts. Yoongi doesn’t want to admit it but the feeling is so strong he can’t shake it off. He loves his parents, they might not understand each other but nothing changes that. He doesn't want to see this shit . He can’t deal with it. He doesn’t want to see his dad all hooked up and pale. Looking like he’s literally on his deathbed. He’s not, but the doctor tells them both if he doesn’t quit smoking then he will be. Borrowed time, that’s what Yoongi keeps thinking, this surgery only gave his father a little bit of extra time. He’s thankful because that means his mom won’t be alone. Yoongi won’t be in a cabin with no contact to the outside world when his father—just, he’s relieved she won’t be alone.


“Colorado?” His father asks, voice cracked and dry. “Oh yeah?” His eyes flutter closed for a moment. He’s being worn down by the meds. A small smile pulls at his lips. Yoongi hasn’t seen one of those from him in god knows how long. “That’s where I met your mother.”


Yoongi can’t bring himself to touch him. Something inside tells him it would bring unwanted tears to his eyes. His fingers barely make it to the hospital blanket. “Yeah, I know dad, I know.”


“Yoongi, you know your father and I—you know we love you, right?”


“Yeah.” Yoongi’s throat feels so dry, his heart feels like it’s trying to stretch. “Me too.”


“As long as you know, it’s okay as long as you know.”




“A road map? You sure that’s even updated?”


Jungkook’s tall, bleach damaged hair, practically drowning in his hoodie. He’s older than Yoongi expected him to be, but he still seems kinda young, maybe early twenties. Yoongi can’t really see his face, he’s standing with the sun behind him and got on these ridiculous round sunglasses. They remind him of Willy Wonka.  


Yoongi can see the angry frown on his lips though, that’s hard to miss. So is the silver lip ring.


Yoongi says, “What’s with the glasses?”


Jungkook folds the road map with such force, it makes a ‘woosh’ sound in the air. “Just get in the car.”


The drive there is quiet,  but it’s not suffocating. It’s bearable. It’s really not too bad. Yoongi thinks it’s funny, it’s funny how he’s the only one who ended up signing up to do this job and the boss made his son go with him. It’s funny that he ended up on a road trip with a total stranger and it’s somehow not that awkward.  


Sometimes Jungkook sings along to the music playing on the radio. He’s got a beautiful voice, spellbinding. Yoongi wants to tell him that, that he sounds better than the people singing on the radio. He just can’t find the courage to push the words out. For the most part they both just maintain the silence.


It’s night time when Jungkook’s laughing about the name of some shitty gas station they pass after they pull off an exit. ‘Quickie’ or something. Yoongi laughs too. They must be getting tired.


“I like your finger tats.” Jungkook tells him, offhandedly. Like he’s been thinking about it and didn’t know how to bring it up. Yoongi wonders if they’ve both been thinking thoughts like that this whole time and neither of them could bring themselves to tell each other. Yoongi wonders if he and Jungkook are similar kinds of people or if he’s just projecting that, if he’s just idealizing.


Yoongi looks down at his hands. L O S T B O Y inked out on his pale skin. A little inverted cross on his pinky because he needed there to be eight characters, he just hates odd numbers for some reason. “I got it when I was younger. When I was feeling—“ He laughs. “You’re probably the first person who’s ever told me that who wasn’t just using it as an excuse to hit on me.”


Jungkook sucks in his bottom lip, he does that a lot. It makes his silver lip ring look smaller, tighter on him. He’s quiet. His lips are pretty and he’s quiet, like he’s thinking something over. Yoongi rests his head back against the seat and watches the street lights pass by in the dark.


They stay quiet together for awhile. But it’s nice, it’s calm. There’s no animosity between them. That’s all Yoongi can really ask for, that’s all he really needs.  


“Hey, what do you think about getting a hotel and like crashing and then double teaming the drive tomorrow? See if we can make it all in one day. You down?”


That’s the longest sentence Jungkook’s said to him all day. “Sounds reckless.” Yoongi grins. “I’m in.”


They check into a seedy motel that only has single bed rooms available and the woman at the desk looks at them like she thinks they’re going to fuck inside of it. Yoongi wants to tell her that they are, for some reason, just to make her head spin.


Jungkook just climbs into bed with Yoongi like it’s nothing. No ‘i’ll take the couch or you sleep on the floor no homo’ like Johnny would surely say had he been the one who came on this trip with him instead. But Jungkook just climbs into bed and pulls Yoongi down with him and then rolls over facing the other way and passes out. He doesn’t even change his clothes. Barely kicked off his shoes. He must’ve been really, really, exhausted.


So when Yoongi gets back up, he does so as quietly as he can manage. He pauses before entering the bathroom and wonders if Jungkook’s still wearing his sunglasses too. So he tip tip toes over to Jungkook’s side of the bed and finds that he’s face down in the pillow, frames off and safe on the carpet and arm hanging off like he fell asleep mid-taking them off. Yoongi holds in a laugh.


He washes up in the bathroom and puts on some sweatpants and lays down on top of the empty side of the bed. He watches the traffic lights peeking through the blinds and coloring the walls. He feels like, he feels like he can breathe and he feels like maybe, maybe this trip won’t be so bad after all.


(and he doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s really nice to not have to sleep alone.)


Yoongi wakes up to Jungkook’s hand gently shaking his shoulder. He’s asleep in the passenger seat with a random coat thrown over him as a blanket. He doesn’t recognize it.


“Wake up, you’re gonna miss it.”


Yoongi squints, opens his eyes a little more. He’s just in time to see a ‘Welcome to Colorful Colorado’ sign zip past them. “Wow.” Yoongi says. “Wow. My parents met here.” He's not sure why he says it, why in his sleep-induced state he feels like it’s important. He just does. It just is.


“Really?” Jungkook asks. He seems really well-rested. Yoongi doesn’t remember moving over to the passenger seat. Doesn’t remember Jungkook waking up and taking the wheel.  


“Yeah, she uh, left her keys at a park. He found them. A year later, they got married.”


“That’s so cool. I want a story like that. Something simple and shit, ya know? You been here yet?”


“No.” Yoongi says breathlessly. Just in awe of the scenery around them. It’s practically the same as Kansas but it’s just, just the magic in its meaning. “First time.”


They pull into a lonely gas station to refuel and get some breakfast. Jungkook’s really nice the whole time, he laughs as they drink coffee and eat donuts and fruit on the roof of their rental car. He’s being really sweet. Yoongi thinks, maybe he’s slept on it, and thought about it and decided to be sweet. Yoongi doesn’t need sweet, he just needed okay. Sweet is even better. Sweet is sort of addicting. Yoongi’s not sure if it’s a good thing. The way Jungkook’s pretty laugh and pretty eyes and playful banter is making him feel inside. All swirled up like a smoothie of emotions.


“I grew up here, sorta.” Jungkook’s voice blurs as Yoongi’s ears pop. They’re climbing up a really long road that’s wrapping around a hilly terrain.


“No shit?” Yoongi groans as he sits up a bit in the passenger seat, straightening out.


“Yeah, just you know, I mean this is my family’s cabin.” He pulls a funny face and then laughs. “We used to come here for summer vacation, sometimes Christmas.” He sighs. Yoongi swallows and rubs his eyes. “It’s a shame we gotta sell it, lease it out or whatever. Kinda sad about it.”


“Oh.” Yoongi says. “Oh. yeah, that’s—that sucks.” Tries to absorb everything. “If you lease it though, you could still eventually get it back one day, right? Still technically be yours.”


“Mmm.” Jungkook nods his head. Smiles. “Either way, we gotta fix it up nice, alright?”


“Sure thing, captain.” Yoongi promises with a sleepy salute to his head.


Jungkook gives him one of those smirks that’s not sexual it’s just faintly amused. “Don’t call me that, perv.”


“What? I’m—” Yoongi’s ears pop again. He pouts and places his hands over them as if that would help.“You’re the pervert if you found a way to take that wrong.”


Jungkook just snorts out a laugh and keeps driving. Up, up, up and around. The elevation is fucking Yoongi’s ears up. He keeps looking over the barrier and down below and thinking of the movie, what was it? North by Northwest? He can’t remember.


Yoongi wants to ask why. Why they have to sell the place. Wants to ask if Jungkook’s okay.





Everything’s smooth at first. They work well together, almost instantly click.


The place is dusty but it’s nice and they only really have to sort little things, a bunch of little things. Like fixing ceiling fans and changing light bulbs and treating the wood and painting. And washing, they do a lot of washing and sweeping and dusting of course. Just cleaning everything up. The biggest problem is getting the heat to work right. The repairman can’t come until next week and the vents just so nasty and hard to clear out that the first few nights they have to light up the fire place. Sleep on separate couches in the living room together just to stay warm. Yoongi likes that they’re sharing space, that they have to. It’s cold but it’s bearable, at least it is in the beginning.


“Yoongi?...Yoongi, you awake?”


“I guess so.”


“You were laughing with your eyes closed. Did you have a funny dream?”


“M’not sure, let me finish it and I’ll update you in the morning.”


“Okay.” a hard laugh. “goodnight.”






“I swear to god, Jungkook.”


“Do you think...people who laugh in their sleep are happy? You know like people that have funny dreams. They’re asleep one minute and the next you see them laughing with their eyes closed. I don’t know, are those people happy? Or are they...only experiencing happiness that they don’t get to in real life?”


“I dunno, couldn’t tell you.”


“Hmm. You ever had a lucid dream?I get them a lot. I like...flying in em’, it’s the only thing I can really control. I’m just so desperate for it, the feeling that takes over my body. It’s something I’ve always wanted so badly. To fly in real know?“


“You sound like you’re flying. You sound high as a kite.”


“No, I mean yeah—“ he laughs. “Sorry, I get this way sometimes, but still...I’m just wondering—”


“You’re wondering if I’m happy?”




“I see.”


“Well, are you?”


“Goodnight Jungkook .”






They’re sorting through books. Packing them all up.


Yoongi says. “It’s strange.”


He’s tracing his finger over a scribbled signature in the cover a copy of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.  


Jungkook laughs. “What is? I haven’t seen that thing since eighth grade.”


“I always thought it was weird how you’re supposed to sign a book when you gift it to someone. I never did that, I couldn’t even sign a birthday card without regretting what I put down. I always gave them to people blank.”


Jungkook thinks it’s cute. He thinks, Yoongi’s cute because he’s afraid to put his name on someone else’s book. He smiles at him, can’t help the teasing tone in his voice. He asks, “Would you give me a book, Yoongi? Would you sign it for me?”


He’s kidding. He’s only kidding but Yoongi’s adam's’ apple bobs like he’s swallowing down nerves and he just lets out a breathy laugh and keeps going through the shelf.






Sometimes… sometimes, they touch. Just accidental touches, a brush of arms, fingertips, in the middle of something ordinary like preparing dinner together, making morning coffee, working together, passing each other in the hallway. Sends these little shots of good and bad and wonderful and terrible straight up Yoongi’s viens. Gives him goosebumps, makes him lose his breath. Just Jungkook’s warm tender skin rubbing against Yoongi’s so, so, short and sweet it’d be barely noticeable if Yoongi were with somebody else, anyone else. But with Jungkook, these sweet accidental touches just linger, linger, linger, ghost on his skin for hours. And it’s just—it’s shocking. It makes Yoongi feel like staying, it makes him feel like running away.






They laugh a lot, talk a lot and somehow manage to get to know each other pretty well considering it’s only been a few days. There’s handfuls of random conversations scattered about throughout the daytime. And then at night over beers in front of the fire their talks get a little deeper. Like how Yoongi hated youth group as a kid and isn’t sure if he believes in a higher power or if he ever did and how he felt like none of the kids that went to church were ever genuine. And Jungkook tells him that he gets it and that he hated being a teenager, hated high school, but everything he says about his teenage life sounds like a precious memory, like a contradiction, like he doesn’t realize that he didn’t hate it that much at all. Yoongi finds out that Jungkook likes to sleep with the fan on even if it’s really cold or else he feels like he can’t breathe and Yoongi tells him he can’t sleep without a light in the room, even as an adult he’s just still a little bit scared of the dark and that he has to fall asleep before three am if he’s alone. Yoongi fails to tell Jungkook that he’s always alone.


“Why three?”


“Just, you know, the witching hour. Fucks with my head.”


They’re in the living room, it’s become sort of their communal resting place. Eating oatmeal and watching the news on the little shitty TV that’s so old it still has an antenna. The anchors are talking about a snowstorm, saying it’s supposed to be really bad and listing off the counties it might affect and Yoongi suddenly realizes that Jungkook’s looking at him.


It’s cold, even with the sun out but Jungkook’s looking at him and it’s making Yoongi feel all hot and bothered, warm and nervous. He swallows dryly, turns to face him with raised eyebrows.


Jungkook looks apprehensive. “Yoongi...we’re on that list,” he gestures towards the television, “We might get snowed in.”


“Oh. Oh, fuck.” Yoongi’s scared. He’s never had this experience, doesn’t know to deal with it and the heat, the heat is still barely working. What if they, what if they freeze to death? He doesn’t want to die out here, not like this, not when he still hasn’t really—felt love? Felt what it was like to be in love, to be loved.That’s important to him, he realizes. Maybe it’s a little too late for that.


You’re too late, Yoongi. You’re always too late


Jungkook’s arm is around his shoulders. Yoongi gasps. The warmth is just, oh, he’s never felt a tingly sensation like that accompanied with someone hugging him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’ll get through it. It’s fine. Happens all the time out here. Sorry if I scared you. Did I scare you?”


His voice is sweet like honey, calming like lavender. His body feels so big next to Yoongi, holding Yoongi. Yoongi feels a sense of safety, a little bit dizzy in the sensation. He wants to get closer and drown in it. Drown in Jungkook’s arms. “Yeah.” Yoongi pushes out, he can’t look at Jungkook, he’s too close, too beautiful. Doesn’t want to feel his heart break. “I mean, no, just a little bit, yeah. The heat, it’s, I’m worried about the heater.”


“Look,” Jungkook starts, rubbing his hand up and down Yoongi’s arm, squeezing him against his side. Yoongi feels like he’s melting. “We just need a plan. I think, we could start the fire early. Now, just to get the temp up in here. And pull that bed out from my room, push the couch back, put it right here on the floor. We’ll make some soup too. We’ll do everything we gotta to stay warm while we’re still able to move and think straight. You following?”


Yoongi nods his head.


“K. Good, then. Then once we got everything set up, we’ll try our best to clean the vents out. Just work until we’re sweating and then hopefully the heat’ll come through easier. It’s fine. Yoongi, say we’re fine.”


“We’re fine. Gonna be fine.” Yoongi swallows and looks at him, finally looks at his pretty eyes. Dark and big and wonderful. It’s hard to look away.


Jungkook gives a kind smile. Boyish but real motherly. It feels like comfort. “Good, I’m gonna call my dad and let him know what’s up.”


They work in silence, with determination, trading off tasks and honestly they’re a good team. If Yoongi’s mind wasn’t so preoccupied with death he would say that they’re the best team. Harmonious. They finish just as the sun goes down.


Yoongi watches the fire shift and change colors and shapes and it’s pretty, it’s daunting but it’s really pretty. The storm is whooshing outside, snowing hard and violent. Jungkook’s climbing into the bed behind him. It makes Yoongi feel like holding his breath. He feels the bed dip a tiny bit just enough to let his body know that there’s another human behind him now. Yoongi shivers.


“Cold?” Jungkook’s voice is a little raspy. Like he’s exhausted but he’s still checking on Yoongi isn’t he? Like he’s been doing all day long, still sweet as candy. Yoongi wants to put Jungkook into his mouth, see if he tastes as sweet as he sounds—Oh god. No. Yoongi closes his eyes. He can’t think like that. He’s not allowed to think thoughts like that.


“Yoongi?” Jungkook’s asking again, scooting, close, close, closer. His warm hand is on Yoongi’s shoulder. He’s only a few breaths away. Yoongi shivers again.


I’m not cold, you’re making me shiver. You’re doing this to me. It’s not the snow, not the weather, it’s you.


“I know you’re awake.” Jungkook says with a laugh, scoots closer. “Too quiet to be asleep.”


“Sorry.” Yoongi finds himself saying. “I was just...thinking, I guess. Lost in my thoughts. Sorry.”


“Yoongi.” Jungkook says again. He says his name like, like, Yoongi doesn’t know but it’s different. It’s just different coming from Jungkook’s lips. The way he holds Yoongi’s name on his tongue like it’s fragile. It’s just a word, just an ordinary name. It’s not weak, he’s not weak.


Jungkook slides his chin near Yoongi’s ear, presses his chest against Yoongi’s back. Slowly slides his arm around Yoongi’s waist, under the blanket. It’s oh god, it’s intimate. It’s speeding up Yoongi’s heartbeat, it’s covering him in warmth and tingly sparks of excitement and goosebumps and panic.


“What are you—”


“M’ Cold. What, I can’t hold you?” A laugh. “You’re comfy. I’m cold and you’re comfy. We could sleep like this.”


“I—um.” Yoongi swallows. He wants to say no but it feels so good. This feels so fucking good it’s just not in him to say no. He wants this, wanted to be held like this ever since he could remember. “Sure. Yeah. It’s—feels nice.”


His words must be some sort of secret password or something because as soon as Yoongi says them Jungkook lets out a relieved groan. And he gets really close and personal, holds Yoongi so nice and tight against him, large hand on Yoongi’s tummy and just sighs into Yoongi’s hair. “Right? So fuckin’ nice. It’s been so long.” He says in sleep covered words.


“What has?” Yoongi dares to ask. But he knows the answer already, it’s been a long time for Jungkook to cuddle with someone. It’s been a long time for Yoongi too, but it was never like this. It was just post-sex with his lazy ex-boyfriend who would flop on top of him like he couldn’t be bothered to get up.


Jungkook’s words are so sleepy as he says them, like he shouldn’t have said them but he does. He says. “Since I wanted to do this.”


And Yoongi can’t write them off. He can’t pretend like they don’t mean anything. There’s nothing it could possibly mean except ‘I want to hold you like this’. And that’s just too much. It’s too, too, too much. Yoongi trembles. Jungkook’s breathing is just steady like he’s definitely passed out and his arms are strong and Yoongi wants to wiggle out just so he can get a hold of his heartbeat, of his mind, of his body. Just so he can really absorb what Jungkook just said to him. But he can’t. He can’t move and Jungkook’s so warm and comforting, like a human melatonin and he’s dragging Yoongi down into sleep. Into nothing but the feeling of being in his arms.





More than a week in Jungkook’s family’s cabin. They did get snowed in and most of their daily effort goes into trying to fix the heat and combat the cold and barely any of it goes into actually getting their tasks here done so they can leave. They couldn’t leave now even if they were done, they’re trapped. Yoongi’s just grateful Jungkook’s aunt stocked about a month’s supply food for them before they got there. She lives up here something like an hour away, Jungkook said. But if the repairman couldn't make it here neither could she. So, the both of them are just holding onto hope that they’ll be able to survive this together before they run out of the things they need to stay alive.


The good news is that it finally stopped snowing and the TV is saying that they won’t get another storm for at least a few weeks. So it’s just a matter of clearing the roads and Yoongi and Jungkook need to do a lot of shoveling in their own front yard, a lot of it.


They’ve been sleeping together every night. Not sex but sleeping together in the bed in front of the fireplace. With Jungkook holding Yoongi close, making him shiver and melt. Making him feel like he’s picked up a new addiction that’s going to kill him before his cigarettes even try. Jungkook’s new. He’s new to Yoongi but he feels like he isn’t. He feels like he’s always been there in Yoongi’s life. Like sleeping in his arms is just muscle memory. Something his body was missing rather than just now learning how to mold into. He’s funny, a little bit frustrating but really endearing and Yoongi hates how much he’s starting to like him. He’s only just met him but it feels like he’s liked him for years. For a long, long, heartbreaking amount of time.


Things are getting a little heated at night, too. At least, for Yoongi they are. He’s felt Jungkook’s hips pushing against his ass a few too many times for him to be able to ignore. He wouldn’t be able to ignore it if it was only once, if he’s honest. He feels the way Jungkook’s fingertips sometimes press into his stomach like they want something. Like they’re enjoying the way he feels more than they’re meant to. Tug like they want to pull his shirt up. He hears the way Jungkook’s breath sounds, hotly breathing into his ear, like he’s getting slightly excited. Like he wants to breathe a little louder. Like he’s struggling not to.


Yoongi wonders if he’s over thinking things. If he’s just imagining these things happening because he wants them to be happening. He wants Jungkook to huff and flip Yoongi around and kiss him silly. He wants to feel Jungkook’s lip ring against his skin. He wants to moan into Jungkook’s mouth and let him grind his hips against him. He wants to feel Jungkook hard and hear the way he sounds when he’s aroused. He wants Jungkook. It can’t be helped. Sometimes people just want other people that they can’t really have and it sucks but it’s just life. Just the way the world spins.


“He said he liked me. And once I said it back he said that—that he was only kidding. He said ‘I’m just kidding you’re ugly as fuck’. He said that to me in front of everyone. Everyone heard and they laughed. I never rode the school bus again. Started carrying around a pocket knife. Just for—well, my protection. I couldn’t walk four miles to school and back everyday without protection.”






Jungkook feels a sense of dread when the repairmen finally comes. Because it means the heat is getting fixed which is a good thing, it shouldn’t be a bad thing but—It means he and Yoongi no longer have a reason to share a bed at night. And Jungkook’s been going through it. An intense rush of emotions like he’s never felt before, ever since he first met Yoongi, ever since they first exchanged words and shared the same oxygen. On the street, in the car, in the shady motel. He likes him, can’t cure that. He really likes being around him. He really likes holding him at night. It’s therapeutic, it feels like medicine, it feels like getting high. It feels like he’s falling in love.


So the heat gets fixed and Jungkook doesn’t say anything about it. He wouldn’t dare bring it up. Like ‘hey, now we don’t need to sleep together anymore ha ha’, there’s no way. He just kind of rides it out, waits it out, washes up and gets in some sweats and climbs right back into bed by the un-lit fireplace, leaving plenty of space, and waits to see what Yoongi chooses to do about it.


Yoongi’s adorable. Waddles into the living room holding his blanket and looking all lost and sleepy. He hesitates, lingers in place, sits down on the futon pushed up against the cabin wall.


Jungkook giggles and says. “You don’t wanna sleep there. Trust me, you don’t.”


Yoongi’s lips twist up like he’s hiding amusement. He asks, “Why? It gonna break my back?”


Jungkook wants to say, ‘because I’m not there’. He doesn’t. He tells the truth instead. “So many people have fucked on that thing. I can’t even list them on my fingers.”


“God.” Yoongi grimaces, makes Jungkook laugh harder, and stands up looking violated. “Ew.”


Jungkook smiles and pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Just c’mre. No one’s fucked here.”


Yoongi’s furrowing his eyebrows, giving Jungkook a skeptical look but he knows it’s all for show. He can tell by the way Yoongi’s walking over that he wanted to sleep here too. The thought makes him feel really happy.


Yoongi’s snuggling into his spot on the bed. His side, right in front of the fireplace, back towards Jungkook like he always sleeps. He says, “I thought this was your family’s cabin. Who was having sex here anyways?”


Jungkook snorts. “I was a teenager, with a key, to my parent’s empty cabin. You think I didn’t road trip with my friends and throw a few parties? I did. Got in so much trouble for it.” He sighs and moves closer to Yoongi. Yoongi jumps a bit under his touch. Jungkook pulls his hands away.


Yoongi asks. “Did you? You have sex there too?”


“Yeah...I mean, yeah.”


“Oh.” He says. Just, “Oh.”


Yoongi falls asleep and Jungkook just lays there, drowning in his thoughts.





Jungkook’s taking a shower and Yoongi’s finally finished organizing a few boxes of fragile dishes and packing them into nice cardboard boxes with newspaper and bubble wrap. Jungkook had said they wanted all the expensive stuff packed and locked up. Gonna drop it all off at his aunt's house before they head home because she’s good at re-selling things online. It’s her hobby or something. Yoongi’s worried about meeting her for some reason. He tries to ignore it and get his to-do list done. He sighs in the hallway, stretches his arms up in the air as he yawns. There’s only one room left, the one room he hasn’t dared to venture inside of since they arrived:Jungkook’s room.


It’s not his current room so to speak but it was his at one point and that’s gotta mean there’s things inside of it that matter. That are special. That Jungkook might not want him to see. Yoongi hesitates. Paces down the hallway and lingers in front of the door, unsure if he should just wait. Take a break and wait for Jungkook to get out of the shower. He stretches out his arm, lets his fingers kiss the door. It creaks open.


Yoongi finds a shoe box that says property of J.J.K under Jungkook’s box spring. The mattress is absent since Jungkook pulled it into the living room and they’ve been sleeping on it every night and somehow it’s just now hitting Yoongi that it’s his. Like that they’ve been cuddling every night on Jungkook’s bed. His past bed. A bed full of memories that Yoongi won’t come close to ever touching except by laying on top of it.


Yoongi closes his eyes. He knows what this is. It’s that secret box, that secret place that kids tend to hide their favorite things inside of. That place that no one’s ever supposed to see. He’s practically holding a diary in the palms of his hands and all he has to do is pop the lid off of it to see the secrets written inside. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows that but he just finds himself slowly opening it anyways.


“What are you doing?”


He jolts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice and drops the box. “I’m sorry.” Instantly spills out of his lips but Jungkook’s not having it. He looks extremely upset.


I fucked up. I fucked up bad.


“No. Get the fuck out. Just get out.”


Jungkook’s wearing a bath towel around his hips. Water droplets clinging onto his abs, his small waist, his hard body. His eyebrows are showing because his hair is wet and dark looking from the shower and combed back to reveal his forehead. He’s standing in the doorway looking so furious that Yoongi’s afraid to walk past him but—He’s just—god damn—he’s so hot. Yoongi swallows and snaps out of it and clears his throat and stands up in a rush.

He’s bad he’s a bad person. Thinking about Jungkook like that right when he hurt him. It’s wrong. He’s so wrong. Jungkook stares him down and barely moves out of the way enough for Yoongi to pass him without bumping into his body. “I’m sorry.” Yoongi tries again, up close Jungkook’s eyes look violent. “I—I didn’t see anything.”


Jungkook closes his eyes, annoyed, he’s annoyed. “I don’t care. Get out.”


Yoongi gasps and walks out and he gets a little more emotional with every step. This is just, he hates this. He hates himself. He hates Jungkook talking to him like that. He shoves on a warm beanie and his boots and throws a coat on and pushes open the back door. It’s bright and chilly, white everywhere.


Yoongi stands on the snowy porch, looking out at the mountains, just trying to breathe. He shakes as he tries to pull a cigarette out. Shakes even more as he tries to light it. But there’s these blurry little tears burning his eyes, getting in the way. They have no business being here. The flame finally sparks up and Yoongi inhales deeply. It’s been a few hours at least since he’s smoked. Maybe days? He forgets. Still has most of his pack left, though.


He closes his eyes as he blows out the smoke. Feels it calming his body down a bit. Enough. Enough to breathe. This whole trip just feels like a huge mistake. He can’t wait to go home. It never felt like home before until he left and now he actually misses it. His home. A shitty apartment with used furniture and never much to eat. At least it never snows there. At least it's his and he misses it. He misses sleeping alone because this this is just too hard for him. He’s catching feelings and he can’t do that. No, he’s already caught them, like catching the flu. It’s completely taking over his body making him feel ill. It’s painful to be in Jungkook’s arms and it’s more painful to be on his bad side. It’s painful to know that the way he aches, the way he feels inside, that it’s not okay.


He takes another shaky hit and blows it out. The door swings open. Jungkook’s wearing a bucket hat over his damp hair and sweats and a long sleeve shirt and a jacket that’s not even buttoned, vans that aren’t even tied. He’s not dressed for the weather. He looks so freaking upset.


Yoongi sighs. “You’re gonna get sick, Kook, your hair's still wet.”


Yoongi can’t help it. He holds the cigarette stick between his lips so his hands are free to begin snapping Jungkook’s buttons closed. He can’t get a cold, not now, they can’t have that. Yoongi tells himself that’s why, tells himself he doesn’t care for more than those reasons.


Jungkook’s breathing hard, staring at him and then he’s taking the cigarette out of Yoongi’s mouth and hitting it before Yoongi realizes what he’s doing. He blows the smoke out and hits it again. Yoongi’s hands are frozen against Jungkook’s bomber jacket. “You can’t—“


“I can do whatever I want.” Jungkook says, cutting him off and making this face when he hits it again, like he hasn’t tasted something so sweet in a while. He tosses it into the snow. Lets the smoke pull out of his cherry red lips. “You hear me? I can do whatever I want.”


And then he kisses Yoongi. He kisses him. He’s kissing him. His hands are cold and cupping Yoongi’s cheeks and his mouth is warm and wet and pressed urgently against Yoongi’s and it’s just. Oh. Wow. Yoongi closes his eyes and kisses him back. Kisses him again when he feels Jungkook’s lips leaving, brings him back in with his fists clenching onto Jungkook’s jacket and tugging him closer. He thinks, oh god, no, come back, don’t leave me. Kiss me again. Jungkook does. He tastes like comfort. He tastes like heartache.


Jungkook pushes against him, makes him stumble back against the house as he kisses him. Hot and hungry and full of want. Yoongi’s barely keeping up to speed. His heart is just—his entire body is going through a mess of emotions.


“What is this?” Jungkook breathes out, still holding Yoongi’s face in his hands. “You want me too?” He sounds lost, surprised. He kisses Yoongi’s first answer away. Like he can’t wait for an answer, like he just needs to feel Yoongi’s lips. “Hmm? Want me?”


“Yeah.” Yoongi manages. “God.” He lets out an embarrassing whine as Jungkook sucks on his bottom lip, lets it go and immediately kisses him again. “ ‘course I want you.”


Jungkook kisses like a rush of blood to the head. He’s so greedy, with his mouth and his hands and his tongue licking over Yoongi’s lips. Yoongi feels emotional, weak at the knees. He’s still crying a little bit. Jungkook might notice, he keeps kissing him anyway. He’s like a tree, strong and rooted to the ground and Yoongi’s like a fragile little bird, just barely managing to withstand the wind. Barely hanging on.


“Inside.” He finds himself breathing out. “Let’s go inside.”


They stumble into the kitchen. It’s bare and probably the biggest room in the entire place and the winds shutting the back door closed for them because they didn’t even bother. This whole time they’ve been worried about freezing to death but they didn’t even bother to close the door. Jungkook’s too busy kissing Yoongi and Yoongi’s too busy kissing him back.


He pushes Yoongi up against the counter. Hands large and warm running all over his body, making him feel things, the best things, just a warm and welcomed rush of heat and goosebumps and dizzy spells. Yoongi thinks, he thinks that he’s never loved anyone before but this is probably it. This is probably what love feels like. He’s dated. Been through some pain, knows how much it hurts to go through a break up. But this isn’t the same. This is a million times more intense, this is something he never wants to let go of. He doesn’t care if it makes him crazy, then he’s crazy. He’d let himself be insane just to feel this way for just a little bit longer.


Jungkook groans, pushes his hips against Yoongi’s, bites down on his ear, sucks his piercings like he’s trying to swallow them. Yoongi’s just, a little helpless, a little bit under attack and loving it. He’s just shyly holding onto Jungkook’s clothes and trying to keep him close. He’s just kissing Jungkook’s lips and cheeks and neck and anywhere he can reach in the midst of it all. Praying Jungkook still wants him, praying he doesn’t change his mind.


Jungkook’s eyes are so, so brown and magnetic up-close. Yoongi could drown looking into them. He’s making all these, these noises, these pretty, boyish grunts and groans and moans and they’re driving Yoongi completely mad. He pulls Yoongi’s beanie off, runs his fingers through his hair. Presses him harder against the counter. Tells him, “I'm sorry. You’re so pretty. Look at you. Pretty baby.”


Yoongi gasps. Feels warmth wash over him. Feels himself twitch in his jeans. He loves that. Loves it so much.


Jungkook’s nibbling on Yoongi’s neck, pushing his erection up against Yoongi’s, just grinding against him. Yoongi’s moaning, his eyes shut closed, his head thrown a little back, gently holding onto Jungkook’s hips. Jungkook keeps talking him through it. Keeps saying things he’s probably gonna regret later out of the moment, but Yoongi doesn’t want to think about that. He’s in love with what he’s hearing right now. Things that he’s always wanted to hear from a lover but never did. Things that he didn’t realize he wanted to hear. “Love your lips. Love your body. Can’t stop staring. Can’t stop wanting you so bad. You don’t even know how bad, Yoongi, you’d suffocate.”


Yoongi just moans in response. He can’t really manage anything else. He’s overwhelmed with euphoria. Jungkook brings his hand to cup over Yoongi’s erection. “God. You’re—so hard. Oh my god.”


Yoongi’s chest starts heaving, he’s letting out moan after moan because Jungkook’s touching him, rubbing his cock through his jeans and making him wet. Making him feel so fucking good with just his hand. Jungkook’s tongue greedily licks the seam of Yoongi’s lips. “Mouth’s like, like a pretty peach. Like my favorite color. Just wanna bite it.” He breathes this against Yoongi’s mouth, licks him over and over again. Yoongi’s trying to stay standing and keep his eyes open but it’s just he’s practically melting, leaking so much pre-cum from Jungkook’s words.


He parts his lips with a moan that wrecks through his throat when Jungkook’s hand unbuttons his jeans and slips through his underwear. “Oh, baby you’re so wet. Fuck.” Jungkook moans out before shoving his tongue into Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi moans into it, thrusts his cock up into Jungkook’s hand. Lets Jungkook’s tongue tangle with his own while he kisses him. Hot and hard and wet and greedy. Things are getting so heated, so completely out of control. Yoongi has to push his hands against Jungkook’s shoulders to catch his breath. Jungkook seems to get it right away, he’s so good at that, when did he get so good at reading him?


“You okay?” He asks, looking into Yoongi’s eyes, waiting for answer, looking like he cares. Still rubbing his palm against Yoongi’s cock, but slower, slowly. It’s driving Yoongi just as crazy. Feels just as good.


“Yes, I’m—” Yoongi moans and then lets out a breathy laugh. “just been a while.”


“Yeah?” Jungkook asks, voice a little wrecked sounding, eyes a little dark. “Want me to stop? Wanna stop?”


“No.” Yoongi shakes his head. Just in case, just in case Jungkook doesn’t think he means it. “No, just—I can’t believe this.” He bites down on his bottom lip. Thrust his hips up a little.


Jungkook’s eyes soften and he brings his lips to Yoongi’s ear. Whispers into it with hot breath. “I know, fuck, I know. Me too. I mean, you’re so beautiful, Yoongi. You sure I can have you like this?”


“Oh.” Yoongi’s leaking pre-cum all over Jungkook’s hand. He’s getting close already. It’s just that hot. Jungkook’s voice and his mouth and his hands are just that hot. He feels like—like Jungkook’s got it all wrong, like he must be confused. Must have Yoongi mixed up with somebody else, somebody who deserves to hear those things. His heart hurts. “Don’t say that, Kook, people don’t say that to me.”


Jungkook shushes him, covers his lips with his mouth, kisses him sensually, intensely, wet and soft and just a little bit of urgent pressure. “I do. I say it.” The corners of his wet and open mouth turn up a bit. His eyes are all dark and heady again, sexy. Looking into Yoongi’s soul lazily. Taking everything he wants. “You got a problem with that? Huh, baby? Can’t I tell you how pretty you are? How sweet you are?”


Yoongi moans and closes his eyes, loses his footing, Jungkook keeps him up, keeps him grounded. Keeps kissing him and rubbing him, making him feel like jello, like heaven. All tingly and hot and good and dizzy. All fucked up.


He keeps thinking, Jungkook’s calling me baby, saying I’m pretty, saying I’m sweet, Jungkook’s crazy.He has to be.


Jungkook sinks his teeth into Yoongi’s neck, starts sucking in a bruise and it’s sending chills down Yoongi’s spine. He can’t stop fluttering his eyes, rolling his neck, letting out embarrassing moans. Can’t believe how amazing Jungkook is with his mouth, his tongue, the way he kisses his skin, gives him hickeys, all over. Just keeps marking him all the way down to his collar bones. “I’m not.” Yoongi chokes out. “I’m nothing special.”


“That’s bullshit.” Jungkook says instantly, brings his lips back to Yoongi’s mouth, bites on his bottom lip, sucks on it, groans. “You are, you’re fuckin’—are you kidding me?”  He lets out an exasperated laugh and kisses him again, again, again. “Have you lost your mind, Yoongi? You’re perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re everything.”


Yoongi groans and grabs Jungkook’s face, threads his fingers through his hair, tugs, pulls him close to reconnect their lips. He pushes his tongue inside of Jungkook’s warm and welcome mouth and kisses him deeply, tries to say it back with his body because he just can’t bring himself to say real words. To tell Jungkook how desperately he wanted this, how desperately he wants him, like this. It’s more than he ever imagined, it’s more than he’s emotionally prepared for. He just didn’t think that Jungkook would say these things to him, deep down he thought, at best—at best Jungkook would fuck him like—like the same way he would fuck a one night stand. Just something to do while they’re trapped there, something quick and emotionless and fun. Something that would end in Jungkook taking a shower and Yoongi smoking a cigarette and trying to calm his heart down and stop from crying and Jungkook never, ever, speaking of it again.


Not this. This is memorable. This is bruising.This is making him feel things he’s not sure if he’s supposed to.


Jungkook’s moaning into the kiss, making these hungry noises as he kisses Yoongi back. The metal of his lip ring just a constant reminder that this is real. This is really happening. Jungkook’s got his arm twisted, in a way that makes his bicep flex against Yoongi’s body as he strokes Yoongi’s cock, tighter, hotter and Yoongi’s hips are aching, body trembling underneath Jungkook’s touch. All he can do is hang onto Jungkook’s shoulders and try not to pass out. He feels himself pulsating, getting hard as ever, leaking more, so much more than he’s used to. He breaks a part from Jungkook’s mouth, leans his head down. Eyes hooded, breath catching in his throat. “Shit. I’m—”


“What baby? Cum? Wanna cum?” Jungkook sounds, god, he sounds so lustful, so turned on. He keeps pumping him. “Hmm? Gonna cum in my hand?”


Yoongi moans, moans, moans. Grinds his cock up needily.


“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you. Want you to cum in my mouth.” Jungkook kisses him, swallows his moans. He grabs Yoongi’s hand, brings it to his lips, presses Yoongi’s tattooed fingers in and out of his mouth, kisses them, drags his tongue around them, sucks them in and oh god. Yoongi can’t, he can’t handle the image, it’s just too hot, too much, too, too much. “So pretty, baby, look how gorgeous you are.”


Yoongi groans. Jungkook’s staring into his eyes and he just has this expression, this dark, heated expression and he’s holding Yoongi’s wet hand against his parted lips. “That good? Would you like that? Me sucking you off?”


“Oh. Oh my god. God. please. Kook I—I can’t—”


“Shh.” Jungkook lets out a breathless laugh, kisses Yoongi short and sweet and then he’s removing his hand from Yoongi’s cock. Lifting Yoongi up by his thighs and setting him roughly on top of the large kitchen counter. “I got you.”


He gets situated in between Yoongi’s legs and kisses him, hot and deep. Makes out with him while grunting and groaning and holding onto Yoongi’s hips. Grinding against him. He’s so hard, so hard and the feel of him against Yoongi’s body is making him want more, so much more. Making him feel so much needier than he’s ever fucking felt.


Jungkook’s back to marking up Yoongi’s neck like he can’t get enough. Like he can’t stop tasting his skin. He’s just so, so, down. So into it. So into Yoongi. It’s hard to swallow.


Yoongi tells him, “I want you to fuck me.” The words just come out of his mouth like nothing, like another breath of air, so natural, unafraid. It’s the truth, it’s the truth but Yoongi is afraid. He’s afraid of what all of this could possibly mean. He’s afraid it might not mean anything.


He doesn’t want a blow job. He can’t risk it, he can’t risk that being it. He wants to feel Jungkook deeper than that. Just in case, in case it’s the last time, the only time he gets to be with him like this. Yoongi wants to make it last as long as possible.




They’re on Jungkook’s mattress—still laid out on the living room floor. Yoongi said he ‘wanted it like that’ and that just made Jungkook all the more hard.


“What are you into that?” He teased out. Couldn’t stop himself from making Yoongi blush, blush, blush. Such a pretty little thing with rose on his cheeks. “Wanna be bad in my bed?”


Yoongi frowned, looked so cute and bothered sitting there where Jungkook dropped him. Eyes all sharp and black, glittering in the dimly lit living room. Jungkook thinks Yoongi’s probably the most adorable guy he’s ever met.


Jungkook just barked out a laugh and took his long sleeved shirt off and then kneed his way on the mattress, got all close and personal with Yoongi. Kissing his frown away, pulling at the hem of Yoongi’s t-shirt. Their hats and shoes and jackets long since discarded in the hallway and on the kitchen floor.


Yoongi’s arms go up like he wants Jungkook to take his shirt off for him and it makes Jungkook laugh and bite down on his bottom lip and do exactly what Yoongi’s asking for. Reveals that pretty flawless skin, Yoongi’s body. Just light muscles and taut nipples that Jungkook wants to suck in his mouth and a cute navel and slight happy trail going down into his unzipped jeans. “You’re so hot, baby. God.”


Yoongi purses his lips, tries his damnedest to hide his smile but Jungkook can spot it easily. It’s so endearing, Yoongi’s hopeless. Don’t try to hide things from me baby, it’s hopeless. Jungkook’s not sure where he got the gall to call Yoongi baby but he can’t keep the pet name off of his tongue. Saying it once was enough to open the flood gates to all the pet names and praises and things he kept thinking, kept holding back whenever Yoongi would just do anything and it got to him. It happened so much, it was hard to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t have the clearance before but Yoongi kissed him back, Yoongi kept kissing him back, said he wanted Jungkook and that was it. That was enough, Jungkook’s an open book now. A running faucet, pouring out praises like water flowing out of his mouth.


Yoongi clears his throat, voice all husky and shy when he speaks. “Shit. You are.” He says eyeing Jungkook’s body, fingers reaching out and tracing over Jungkook’s muscles. His biceps, the veins in his arms, his abs. His palms land on Jungkook’s chest, eyes getting all hooded and glossy as he slides them up, up, up, to Jungkook’s neck and wraps his fingers around it. Thumbs pressing a notch higher than gentle into his skin, he squeezes his neck a bit, makes Jungkook miss a breath, looks so hungry when he does it too. “You’re sexy. I should kill you.” He grins, gummy, playfully, so playful. “Should kill you before you kill me.”


Jungkook laughs, grabs Yoongi’s frail wrists, kisses Yoongi’s hands before threading his own fingers through them and holding them and Yoongi’s eyes go a little bit wider and his smile turns into parted lips and Jungkook presses Yoongi down into the mattress. Down so he’s on his back with his knees up towards the ceiling and Jungkook’s laying in between his legs on top of him. It feels so good, skin to skin, holding Yoongi’s precious hands.


Yoongi grunts and says, “See, you’re tryna kill me already. Can’t breathe.”


Jungkook laughs and pushes his body up, hovers over Yoongi’s pretty face and kisses his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. Pulls all sorts of gorgeous noises out of him when he grinds his hips against Yoongi’s erection. Still hard, still soaking wet underneath his boxers, still so hot to see and feel and think about.


Earlier right before Jungkook picked him and up and carried him to bed, Yoongi had this tin in his suitcase with things in it that made Jungkook’s mouth water, made Jungkook want to see Yoongi using them. He only opened it to grab his lube and a condom, turned red when he realized Jungkook saw the other contents before he could close it back up. Jungkook wanted to tease him about, ask why he had brought those things in the first place but Yoongi kissed away his questions. So that was that.


Jungkook sits up on his knees, runs his rough palms over Yoongi’s soft skin, tugs at his waist band, takes the rest of his clothes off—except for his ankle socks because Yoongi wanted to keep them on— and he tries not stare too much at Yoongi’s hot naked body because he’s being all shy about it, kicking Jungkook’s thigh, demanding, “You too.”


“Okay, okay.” Jungkook chuckles and takes his sweatpants off but he leaves his black boxer briefs on, loves the way Yoongi’s looking at his clothed cock. Like he wants to eat it. Like he urgently needs to see what’s underneath the thin material.


Yoongi tilts his head where it’s rested on the bed—blonde hair all spilled out and messy —licks his lips dryly. “Your thighs are so nice. Choke me with em’.” He grins.


“Sure.” Jungkook laughs and climbs back on the bed, lube in hand, on his knees, and he spreads Yoongi’s thighs open a bit. Pushes them up, makes Yoongi’s knees bend more. Yoongi closes his eyes and chews on his bottom lip, like he feels too vulnerable and exposed. “So pretty.” Jungkook says, rubbing lubed fingers against Yoongi’s entrance. Just circling, pushing gently, waiting until Yoongi stops gasping and relaxes. “You thinkin’ about it?” Jungkook asks, looking at Yoongi with a small smirk. “My fingers stretching you out?” Yoongi bites down on his bottom lip, muffles a moan, looks at Jungkook with a pleading expression. Jungkook keeps going, loves it, love this too much. "That a yes? You want that? Want me to fuck you with my fingers?”


Yoongi moans. “Oh god. Hurry up. Shit—”


Jungkook grins and pushes a finger slowly inside of Yoongi, feels the way his body jolts in reaction, tenses up, squeezes around him and then finally relaxes again and Jungkook pushes it all the way in. Pulls a curse and a groan out of Yoongi’s lips. He’s so tight, “So tight.” Jungkook’s already dying to be inside of him. But he enjoys this part, loves that he gets to do it with Yoongi, gets to finger him open and get him nice and wet and ready for his cock. He loves it.


Yoongi’s tough at first, but he opens up pretty easily, pretty nicely, seems to be in his own world as Jungkook moves his finger inside of him, stretches him out, adds another finger and starts scissoring them. Yoongi’s eyelids open and close, his voice goes from moaning and cursing to complete silence. He’s adjusting. Getting used to it, starts fucking himself on Jungkook’s fingers. He looks at Jungkook all sharp and heady and Jungkook groans and curls his fingers, pushes them deeper, at an angle, looks for Yoongi’s prostate. “My god baby. Look so hot like this. Can’t wait to fuck you.”


“Shit.” Yoongi moans and presses his hands into the bed. Those veiny pretty, pretty, hands that Jungkook’s dead sure he’s in love with. He spreads his soft thighs out more, lifts his head up a bit to look into Jungkook’s eyes. “I want—I need you.”


Jungkook bites his bottom lip and pulls his fingers out, adds more lube to them, pushes back in with three digits. Makes Yoongi’s cock twitch in reaction, so wet and hard and hot lying there on top of Yoongi’s stomach. “Can’t believe you didn’t let me suck you off.”


“Fuck.” Yoongi groans, pushes his hips down into Jungkook’s curved fingers more urgently.


“It’s so fucking pretty. I want you to fuck my mouth so bad. Wanna feel you cum down my throat.”


Yoongi’s moaning, looking wrecked already. “Shit. Kook, don’t—don’t do this to me. I—I need you inside me. Just fuck me.”


His eyes glisten like they’re forming tears, Jungkook laughs, feels all good and turned on, wants to kiss them away. “Sure I’ll fuck you, sweetheart. I’d love to fuck you. Flip over.”



“Oh my god.” Jungkook groans.


Yoongi’s choking on his spit. On his hands and knees, ass up, hips in Jungkook’s hold. Jungkook’s behind him, pushing in the head of his cock into Yoongi’s wet, stretched out ass. He feels so thick and hard and heavy inside of Yoongi. It’s a lot, it’s hard to stay in the moment. It’s hard to stay out of it. Jungkook’s, just, wow, he really can’t stop praising Yoongi, saying so many things Yoongi never imagined he’d hear coming out of his hot mouth. Dirty things, too. Things that make Yoongi moan and want to cry at the same time.


It’s contagious. It’s making Yoongi want to say things he’d normally hold back during sex. Not that sex with other guys was ever anything like this. Not even close.


Jungkook pushes in a bit more, stretching Yoongi out so, so, so, nicely it burns. Yoongi loses his voice. Jungkook’s hands, so big, rough holding his hips so gently. “Fuck, babe. Alright—God, you’re tight.”


A sound escapes Yoongi’s throat similar to a whine. Jungkook pauses, asks, “You okay, sweetheart, you okay?”


“Yeah. Mm. Yes.” Yoongi chokes out, doesn’t want Jungkook to stop. That’s the last thing he wants. He needs this. He needs this. “Keep going, keep going.”


Jungkook sighs, grunts, so manly, he’s so boyish and manly, makes Yoongi weak, weak, weak. “Yeah, alright. Fuck.”


Jungkook pushes in more, more, more, inch by inch, testing Yoongi’s elasticity, stretching him out so, so, well. Yoongi sobs, pants, shuts his eyes closed tight. Jungkook’s hands rub his skin, his lower back his hips, his ass cheeks. Feels so good. Feels so fucking good. Tingly, affectionate. Jungkook’s an affectionate fuck.


“Christ.” Yoongi curses when Jungkook pushes in, all the way in bottoms out, really fills him the fuck up. So thickly, so perfectly. “You’ve got a fucking great dick.” He finds himself spitting out like, god, can’t he keep his mouth shut?


Jungkook likes it though, oh, he seems to love hearing that. The way he moans in reaction, the way he grabs onto Yoongi’s hips just a little rougher, a little less controlled. He takes one hand and starts rubbing big circles into Yoongi’s left ass cheek, giving it a few experimental spanks. Egged on by the way Yoongi’s moaning in response. “You like that?” He says, all hot and teasing, voice dripping in so much sex that Yoongi could die from it.


“Uhih.” Yoongi says back, it’s supposed to mean yes but Jungkook gets it. He gets it. He gets Yoongi like nobody else ever did, ever will probably. Yoongi can’t see him, can’t see his glorious body and beautiful face but he can tell he’s grinning, he can tell by his breathy voice.


“Yeah?good.” He says and spanks Yoongi again, rubs the spot afterward like licking a wound, keeps doing it every time Yoongi moans, harder every time. Yoongi’s mouth waters thinking about the red spot that’s surely forming on his flesh. From Jungkook’s hand, Jungkook’s touch.”I love your ass. I’m in fucking love with it.”


Yoongi groans and pushes back on Jungkook’s cock, as much as he can with Jungkook fully inside of him and Jungkook’s hand immediately goes back to his empty hip. Grabbing on and groaning and then he’s pulling out a bit and pushing back in and Yoongi gasps. “Shit. God, yes.”


Jungkook makes a sound that’s higher pitched and not really a word but he repeats the movement. Slow, halfway out halfway back in, softer on the way he pulls out and harder on the way he comes in. Yoongi’s moaning with every thrust, resting on his forearms, barely managing to hold his head up. He’s grateful that Jungkook can’t see his face, how his eyebrows are furrowed and his teeth are grit together. How his cheeks are burning hot and red. How a little bit of saliva is pooling at the corners of his mouth.


Oh. Oh baby, you’re so hot like this. Look at you taking my cock so well.God.” Jungkook’s fingers press into Yoongi’s skin, his hips picking up the pace. His exits a little more drawn out, the way he fucks into him a little harder, a little rougher, a little more eager. Jungkook’s noises, god, the noises that he makes as he thrusts into him are driving Yoongi completely wild. Making him dizzy with want, making his thoughts white out. He feels so fucking good inside of him, so thick, so perfect, so right, so hot.


Yoongi’s moan, moan, moaning, louder and louder and Jungkook’s hips kick harder, push in deeper every time. He’s starting to fuck him rougher, skin slapping, fingers pressing into the mattress to hold Yoongi’s body up. Jungkook’s groaning, cursing, saying things like, “Baby, baby, you’re so pretty, feel so good, so damn good on me.” Babbling praises out. So hotly, so sweetly, so freely. Yoongi’s spent.


Jungkook says, “I wanna see you. Wanna kiss you, yeah? Come on, flip over, get on your back for me.” While still fucking into Yoongi like he doesn’t plan on stopping.


“Ah, okay, okay, yeah.” Yoongi manages, wincing, sweat dripping down his nose. “Let me, let me.”


Jungkook groans and slows his movements, grabs Yoongi hard and fucks him deep a couple times moaning. “Yeah, sorry, God. Ass is too good.”


He finally pulls out and Yoongi’s left gasping, empty, clenching air. He stays on his elbows, head bowed trying to catch his breath, Jungkook’s hand rubs his skin, then he flips him over onto his back. He’s so—god, Yoongi didn’t know how insanely good Jungkook would look all sexed out. Eyes dark and hair and body damp from sweat. His muscles, his body, Jesus, Yoongi can barely breathe. His cock, too, so blushy, even through the condom, so thick and veiny, wet from lube. Yoongi’s mouth waters, knowing that’s gonna be inside of him again. Knowing that was inside of him. Imagines what it would be like to have it in his mouth, looking up into Jungkook’s bewitching eyes.


He thinks, I don’t want you just tonight, I want you every night, I don’t want anyone else, I’ll only compare them to you, I’m going to compare everyone to you forever, they won’t be good enough, not even close.


And it hurts? It hurts more when Jungkook pushes into him again, so close, face right above him, kisses him, sweat and moans mixing into Yoongi’s open mouth. They kiss so fervently, so deeply, so needily. Jungkook gives back every emotion that Yoongi’s feeling inside, just pours it right back into his mouth. His lips are so soft, his tongue is so good. Yoongi loves it, loves the way he kisses him. Loves the way he’s fucking into him. Loves running his fingers through Jungkook’s hair and tugging, pulling moans out of Jungkook and swallowing them down.


“That’s right. Fuck me, fuck me, harder.”


Jungkook stares into his eyes, fucks him harder. Kisses him harder, holds his thighs up, angles his face, sucks bruises over bruises on Yoongi’s neck. Says, “God, you’re so fucking pretty. You’re so fucking hot. Sure you want this? Sure you want me?” Like he still can’t believe it. Like Yoongi’s something that precious, that special. It’s intoxicating. Mind blowing.


“Of course I do.” Yoongi pushes out, desperate for Jungkook to believe him. Holds Jungkook’s cheeks and forces eye contact. “Of course I fucking do.”


Jungkook kisses him in a rush. Says, “Ride me.”



Jungkook pulls the blanket over them as Yoongi sinks down on his cock. Like they’re in a cave, their own little world. Yoongi likes how safe it makes him feel, how hot and dirty like they’re doing something secret. He’s leaning over Jungkook, hands on his chest looking down at him, trying to keep his eyes open, trying to adjust to how big Jungkook feels inside of him at this angle. Jungkook’s hands are back on Yoongi’s hips like they belong there, like he can’t get enough of the way they feel under his palms. Yoongi loves it, he loves how small it makes him feel, how adored.


“You wanted this right? Wanted to fuck on my bed cause nobody else has.” Jungkook says it like reading Yoongi is that easy. Yoongi can’t hide his face, his panic. Jungkook’s right, he’s so right. Yoongi chews his bottom lip and tries to look away, pushes his palms into Jungkook’s chest and bounces his hips a little bit, moans.


Jungkook says. “It’s okay. I love that. I love it.” He looks like he means it.


Yoongi moans and starts to move his hips, starts to fuck himself on Jungkook’s cock and Jungkook’s eyes get all hooded and he bites down on his bottom lip and just watches. Tightens his grip on Yoongi’s hips and helps him bounce.


“God, yeah.” Jungkook hisses. “Fuck, yeah.”


Yoongi feels so good, bent over like this. Jungkook’s hitting his prostate and it feels so good, he’s almost over-sensitive. His cock is just aching so bad, but being constantly hit with delicious waves of heat. It’s running all over his body, the feeling that Jungkook’s giving him by being this close, this deeply connected to him. There’s nothing closer than this, nothing more intimate.


Jungkook says, “Kiss me.” and Yoongi listens, bends down with shaky hands and kisses him softly, repeatedly. Jungkook moans and licks over his lips, licks his entire mouth as Yoongi grinds on his cock, pushed in deep, keeps rolling his hips and moaning against Jungkook’s tongue.


Yoongi sits back up when it’s getting too much, making him too emotional but fuck—fuck, Jungkook grabs his hands, holds them while Yoongi’s riding him and oh no, oh no, that’s fucking Yoongi up. He can’t deal with it, it’s too close, too intimate, pulls at his heartstrings, brings tears to his eyes. He’s crying. He’s fucking crying.


Jungkook says, “Oh. no, don’t cry baby, you’re too pretty. Don’t cry.” and Yoongi’s orgasm comes harsh and strong, wrecks his entire body. He cums untouched, with tears in his eyes riding Jungkook’s cock, holding his fucking hands. It’s so good, too good, it hurts his chest.


He falls a bit on top on Jungkook, collapses in his strong arms. Jungkook shushes him, rubs his back, helps him ride it out, fucks up into him a little rough asks “You okay? Can I cum in you? Wanna cum in you.” and Yoongi nods his head, kisses his neck, eagerly welcomes it, wants it and Jungkook gets a little more handsy, a little more sporadic and spills into the condom.


They stay like that, with Yoongi on top of him under the heat of the blanket, catching their breath. They stay like that for a while.



Yoongi seems sleepy. He’s really quiet. Jungkook washes him in the shower, scrubs his body, shampoos his hair, kisses him. Yoongi seems to like it, lets out pretty sighs, gets all soft and clingy, holds onto Jungkook like he feels weak. Like he needs to.


Yoongi’s eyes are sharp as they watch Jungkook wash himself afterwards. Full of thoughts he’s not saying. Jungkook feels a little anxious. He smiles anyway.


Jungkook helps Yoongi get dressed, he’s just so quiet, and it’s putting Jungkook on edge. Making him worry so much that he did something wrong. But when they climb back into bed, clean sheets, Yoongi doesn’t face the fireplace like he usually does. He turns around and cuddles into Jungkook’s chest. Lightly kisses his neck. Jungkook sighs, feels relieved, holds him close.


They fall asleep like that.






They’re trying to finish up everything today. Sweeping, washing, packing up. Working so much they barely have time to communicate. Yoongi’s trying not to cry, he’s trying to fight his miserable thoughts away. Like how Jungkook’s barely looked him at all day.


He goes to smoke a cigarette outside. Jungkook’s already out there, just looking at the mountains, the snow covered trees that look like yogurt covered pretzels. Just taking a break.


“Hey.” He giggles as he sees Yoongi come out, pulls him into a firm hug, so warm, so warm, tears are forming in Yoongi’s eyes. Jungkook kisses his hair, holds him close. “There you are. Sorry we have to work so hard. You’re amazing. Look so cute today.”


Yoongi stays in his arms for awhile. Weakly hugs him back. Forgets about the cigarettes. Forgets how much his heart aches.


He’s just being nice right? He’s just being nice to me. Does he love me? Do you love me, do you love me, do you love me?






They said goodbye to the cabin. It feels like saying goodbye to a dream. It feels like having to wake up to regular life, responsibility, obligation, reality.


Jungkook holds Yoongi’s hand at stop lights.


Yoongi doesn’t know what it means.




Jungkook’s aunt is just—she means a lot to him? Always let him watch movies like The Labyrinth and Beetlejuice behind his parents back. They weren’t really fond of him watching fun movies, playing Pokémon. All the things he loved to do. They kept him from it, gave him guitar and Taekwondo lessons instead. Said he needed structure, needed to learn to discipline himself. Needed to know how it good it felt to work hard for something and win. Needed to know how much more it hurt to lose.  Jungkook’s not upset, he’s not. He feels like it was important, it’s all a part of who he is now but still he just can’t help having a soft spot in his heart for his goofy aunt.


“It was around Christmas time. We were at my aunt’s house, she was asking me what I wanted Santa to bring me. I said—I told her I saw this commercial for this little heart shape polly pocket. I said that’s what I wanted the most. My dad he just, he freaked out. I was only seven I didn’t know that it would make him so mad. I never brought it up again.”


Now that Jungkook’s an adult his mom’s a little different than she used to be. She laughs more, holds back less, drinks two glasses of red wine with dinner every night. Tells his friends when they come over embarrassing stories from Jungkook’s childhood. She’s just more free. It makes Jungkook wonder what changed. It makes him wonder if he was hard to deal with before, back then. If he was the reason she was always so stressed out.


His Dad’s still the same person he's always been. So predictable, habitual, stuck in his ways. He’s the kind of dad that’s always working and when he’s not he’s just constantly outside washing the cars, checking the fluids, spying on the neighbors. The kind of dad that only opens up when he’s not sober. Physically dependable but emotionally just out of reach. He’s always telling Jungkook that one day he’ll take over the business, one day he’ll make him proud. Jungkook doesn’t know how to deal with it, he never did. He wanted something bigger than that, art, photography, dance, something that makes his heart beat faster. Something that he loves.


“What about now, dad? Don’t I make you proud now?”


Jungkook brought it up a few times, with all the courage he had in him. His dad would just say “that’s girly shit” and laugh it off. It was shitty, soul crushing, made him feel like he couldn’t be himself anymore.


His mom doesn’t want him to move out. His dad made him finish business school. His aunt bought him a nice camera. His life is just that. He’s never had anyone else manage to wedge their way in that deeply. At least not enough to really stick. Jungkook feels like, he feels like Yoongi might actually be the first. It scares him.


Yoongi makes him feel ambitious. He makes him feel soft, and excited and eager. Yoongi makes Jungkook feel all sorts of things he hasn’t felt since he was younger, less naive, less jaded. He makes him feel things that’s he’s never felt before ever.


He wants to say something akin to “I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t sign up to fall for someone I only just met. That’s uncalled for. I won’t do it.” but then...he looks at Yoongi and he just feels like he’s home. Yoongi’s just a small and pretty blonde with crescent, piercing, dark eyes and lips like peaches with baggage, he’s got so much baggage and Jungkook wants to hold it all for him, ease his pain, make him smile. He wants to take their lives and put them together, struggle together, grow together, even if it doesn’t make sense, because it just feels right it feels like it’s supposed to be that way. It feels like Yoongi’s reaching out his hand, and all Jungkook has to do is grab it. He wants to, he wants that. He’s pretty sure he already has.


Yoongi’s smoking a cigarette and drinking lemonade outside by the frozen swimming pool. Jungkook’s watching him from the kitchen through the glass sliding door. His aunt nudges his shoulder. “You like him, don’t you?”


Jungkook swallows. “Do you?"


She smiles, bright and knowingly, same way she used to smile when they shared a secret. “Of course I do. I think he’s great.”


Jungkook sighs and leans against the counter. He feels the words slipping out before he can stop them. “He works for dad.”


She shrugs, nudges him again, pulls a laugh from his lips. “So what? What’s that punk gonna do? He gives you any shit and you call me, okay? Don’t worry about my brother. You’re always worrying about them. Ever since you were little. It’s not a crime, you know. Choosing happiness isn't a crime.”


“Yeah.” Jungkook laughs, feels a little out of breath, “Yeah, I guess.”


“So? You gonna date him or not?”


“I dunno—I hope so.”


“Well, good, me too. I better get an invite to the wedding. Don’t even try that ‘it got lost in the mail’ shit with me.”


Jungkook laughs harder, pulls his aunt into his arms and hugs her. Tries to say I love you with his embrace. “Never. I’d never do that to you.”


She giggles. “I know.”


“It’s good to see you, Jungkookie. It’s good to see you smiling.”




Jungkook shows up at Yoongi’s door. It’s raining out, it’s really, really, really, late at night and it’s been a few weeks since they last saw each other and Yoongi was starting to accept things. He was starting to accept that they were just exactly what they seemed to be. Two people who had something sweet and meaningful for a little bit, just for a little while. It hurt, it hurt to think like that but that’s just life. Yoongi’s used to it.


He didn’t plan on getting over Jungkook, casting his feelings aside, sweeping them under the rug like they were less than what they really were. Instead he was trying his best to embrace them, his feelings, the love and emotions he felt so, so, strongly whenever he thought of Jungkook. Which was all the time, he thinks about Jungkook every single night and day. He was trying to be happy. Happy he got to be with Jungkook, to meet him, know him, touch him, taste him in his mouth. He tried to stop crying every night when he got into bed and there was no one there to hold him anymore. He tried not to feel like heart was shattering in a million pieces whenever he thought about Jungkook moving on and starting a life with someone else, anyone else. He tried, he swears he tried.


Jungkook’s here now, right in front of him, completely soaked from the rain and he looks, he looks desperate. Heartbroken. He looks how Yoongi feels inside.


He says, “Why haven’t you texted me? Why didn’t you call?”


“Kook,” Yoongi gasps, still trying to absorb it all. “Kook, it’s raining. You’re gonna get sick, you’re a wet mess.”


“I don’t care.” Jungkook tells him. “I don’t give a fuck, I need to know this. I need to know why.”


“I—” Yoongi can’t bare this. He can’t handle this. His heart is doing back flips, his head is spinning. He can’t. “I didn’t know if—I don’t know.”


Jungkook swallows, eyelashes wet from the rain, he looks beautiful, always does in a way that makes Yoongi ache. “I missed you.”


“What?” Yoongi stumbles back a few steps. Jungkook steps into the threshold of Yoongi’s apartment.


Jungkook’s arms are around him before Yoongi can move, getting rainwater all over Yoongi, all over the foyer tile. He asks, “Didn’t you miss me?” and he sounds like he’s crying and it makes Yoongi gasp and it breaks his fucking heart.


He feels tears burning in his eyes and he hugs him back, tight, tight, tighter. “ ‘Course I missed you. I missed you a lot. I missed you so much. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m just scared. I was scared.”


Scared of rejection, scared of your dad, scared of being happy.


Jungkook’s hands are shaking as he pulls back to cup Yoongi’s cheeks. “Look, I don’t know what’s scaring you but—just fuck it, okay? you have me, you can have me, and we can be scared together. I mean, we got through a snowstorm. Just me and you baby, nobody else.”


Yoongi lets out a teary laugh. Jungkook sighs and smiles and kisses his nose, kisses his lips, makes a little sound like he’s suffering when he does it.


Jungkook’s breathing hard, he sounds like he’s begging. “Tell me you want that, tell me you want me.”


Yoongi’s hands grip handfuls of Jungkook’s coat and hold his body close. His eyes are burning and his heart is beating wildly and he just feels so warm inside, even though he’s wet and cold from the rain. He pouts a bit and looks up at Jungkook who’s just sweet, sweet, sweet as ever, smiling down at him with tired eyes. “You first.” He chews on his lip, feels like he’s floating. Still terrified, still an emotional wreck, but hopeful. He feels hopeful. “I need you to say it first.”


Jungkook just lifts Yoongi up, wraps his legs around his body and makes him yelp. He brings his lips to Yoongi’s ear, and makes him shiver, makes him close his eyes, makes him hurt in a good way, the best way. “How bout I tell you something better? Hmm? How bout I tell you that I love you.”




“Hey, Jungkook, you awake?”


“Hi, baby.”


“Hi.” a laugh. “Jungkook?”




“What was in the box?”


“Box? Oh.” he sighs. “Polly pockets.”




“Yeah.” he laughs. “Really.”





Yoongi gives Jungkook a book. It’s titled, ‘So you’re trapped in a snowstorm? 101 things to do.’


It’s not a real book. Yoongi typed it up. It makes Jungkook want to laugh, makes him want to cry even more.


He opens up the cover. It’s signed.


“Hey baby. Life has always been hard, it’s still hard, it still sucks but it’s better with you, it’s sweeter with you, it’s meaningful with you. I hope you know how much you mean to me but just in case you don’t I wrote it all in this book, and I put my shitty handwriting on it just for you, because I knew it’d make you smile. I’d do anything to see that bunny smile. Happy Anniversary. I love you.”




idea # 1). get trapped with someone cute


idea #6). cuddle for warmth near the fireplace


idea #20). fall in love


idea #99). take them home with you


idea #101). never let them go