Archive of Our Own

♢♢♢

Sometimes, Yoongi is in a field full of poppies. Bright red flowers moving in soft smooth motions, dancing in the wind, letting the air play with their small velvety leaves. It’s a barely there spring breeze stroking crimson petals, tickling tiny buds, seeping through his whole body. Yoongi likes it, how the wind plays with his hair, how it warms him up from his very core. He can feel the sunlight touching his skin, leaving little pecks wherever it can, tickling his fingertips and making him feel light and warm. Those times are not bad, he comes back and his chest is not contracting, he doesn’t feel like his lungs are giving up on him and he always finds giggles with a cute orange tint to them at the other end, chubby fingers peeking out of morning sheets and pink cheeks smiling only for him, so it’s not that bad to be gone for a while.

Other times, Yoongi is surrounded by darkness and darkness alone. He finds himself in dim alleys, cold mazes of concrete he can’t run away from. He can’t breathe then, he can’t see, and he almost can’t feel himself, because there are black fingers tearing through his insides, numbing everything. Yoongi hates those times, because he sees no escape and it terrifies him, how lost he feels, the idea of never coming back seems to root all over his mind. He feels empty, so empty he is nothing but hollow, and his lungs do collapse then, and he feels like screaming only to realize he cannot. Those times, they’re not good at all, he can’t sleep at night, with so many nightmares haunting him, waking him up with cold sweat and too many images swirling in his mind. Things he does not like, things he wishes would never happen.

But in that very moment, he’s with Jimin, so he focuses on that. It’s hard to do that, because the movie they’re watching moves too fast and there are a lot of colors and if Yoongi gets too immersed in them, he's sure it will only make him go absent again, and he doesn’t want that. Jimin is laughing, so he concentrates on that sound. It works, it always does, because Jimin is warm, and his laughter is too, so it brings him back entirely, and that makes all the sense in the world for him.

The younger's fingers are mindlessly stroking circles on his shoulder, and his arm feels heavy on his shoulders, but that keeps Yoongi from drifting away one more time to places he might not be able to come back from, so it's fine. He’s with Jimin and he needs to remember that.

“You won’t understand what the movie’s about if you keep staring at me, hyung” he hears the younger tease, but when Jimin looks at him and sees his blank expression, that cutely annoying smirk fades and he pales a little bit. Yoongi decides that color doesn’t look good on Jimin at all. “Are you okay? Is the movie triggering you or something?”

“No, no, I’m fine” he lies, and he knows Jimin knows, so he adds, “I was starting to… drift away, kind of. But you pulled me back. It’s okay, I’m okay”

“Oh?” he feels how Jimin’s grip gets tighter around him, and he decides to rest his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, eyes going back to the TV screen.

“Your laughter. It always works. I’m fine, really. Let’s watch the movie”

“What were you daydreaming about, can I know?” Jimin’s hand goes from his arm to his hips, and his fingers find their way to his tummy, playing with the little scar there, tracing the edge of his hipbone, tickling softly, easing him off.

“The poppies, again” he mumbles against the skin on the brunet’s neck, movie suddenly forgotten, deciding that getting soaked on Jimin’s warmth was a better idea.

“You’ve been thinking about poppies a lot lately, hm” he snickers some when Yoongi bites him on the neck, softly, followed by a million of pecks. “You’re distracting me from the movie, hyung”

“Do some popcorn” it’s a soft whisper, but it’s followed by another series of butterfly kisses, so Jimin laughs openly this time. “We can’t watch a movie without popcorn, what kind of date is this”

“Aigoo, you’re impossible” he snorts, “I’ll do some”

Jimin giggles when Yoongi grumbles, not really wanting to let go, and he kisses the top of his head, mumbling an I love you that gets tangled in between the elder’s green locks.

Yoongi won’t tell, but poppies remind him of Jimin. Of how pink his cheeks are in the mornings or how red his lips turn when they’ve been kissing for the longest of times. Of how beautiful his bright orange locks shine in the sunlight and he memorizes the lines Jimin’s fingertips make on his arms and belly and just everywhere every time he feels odd and uncomfortable on his own skin.

He won’t tell, but Jimin knows anyway. He always seems to know.

 ♢♢♢

At times, Yoongi finds himself in places he doesn’t remember. It’s like he’s been on auto-pilot for the longest of times and all of a sudden he’s pushed back to reality full force and he just doesn’t have time to adjust. He feels like a robot, limbs moving on automatic without him registering things properly, surrounded by shadows and a veil on his mind, and suddenly a lot of light, so white it leaves tiny color sparkles dancing on his eyes, dizzying and confusing. His brain is suddenly filled with a lot of information and his temples start to hurt, and he just feels so stupid and so helpless it makes him want to scream. It’s not a nice feeling, knowing he was doing something, but not knowing exactly what.

Like right now, he’s in the middle of Seoul’s most concurred street and there are lots of people around him, so many people, all over the place, wherever he looks at, coming and going and moving too fast and talking too loud and he panics. He doesn’t remember going out of his flat, he doesn’t remember choosing to wear that grey scarf, he doesn’t remember what he was supposed to do out there. So he panics a lot and he sees how his hands reach for his phone even when he doesn’t remember making that decision, but he tries not to think about that or it’ll be worst. He doesn’t really remember dialing either, but there it is, Jimin’s voice reaching his ear, warm and grounding no matter where it comes from, and then there it is too, Jimin’s hand a few minutes later, curling around his, intertwining their fingers. It feels like an anchor and Yoongi doesn’t really mind not remembering when was it that Jimin came, because he suddenly feels wide awake, and it doesn’t feel overwhelming at all.

“I’m sorry I called, I just panicked and-”

“It’s okay, hyung, I wasn’t busy anyways. Let’s go get coffee together!”

Jimin is bright, too bright, and it almost blinds him too, but Yoongi feels thankful for the enthusiasm. He’s thankful Jimin is not prying, nothing but waiting for Yoongi to share whatever he feels like sharing. That’s something he always liked of the younger, how good he was at sensing other people, how much he seems to understand that sometimes Yoongi doesn’t want to talk and sometimes he does.

“I can’t remember what I was doing” he does seem to want to talk right now so he does, and Jimin looks at him, with that fond smile that only he can pull, the one that is both ways worried and caring, and he lifts their hands until he’s kissing Yoongi’s knuckles. He know Yoongi's hands get kinda fidgety when he's anxious, so grabbing his hands help. “I know I was going to do something, but I don’t remember, and I was walking and I found myself here and there were a lot of people all of a sudden and I felt...” he trails off, with Jimin’s little pecks distracting him. He feels like smiling, so he does.

“It’s okay, don’t worry” Jimin smiles in response. “Christmas presents! That’s what you said you were going to do. We can go shopping together, if you want”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good” Jimin beams at him, and it feels nice, how he seems to get excited over little things like Christmas shopping together. It is so simple to please him, Yoongi can’t but feel amused. “Did you put this scarf on me before I left?”

“Yeah, it’s cold. I don’t want you to get sick, hyung, you always get sick on Christmas, and that’s not Christmas-y at all, you know” he’s staring at his walking feet, getting distracted by the way they move, but he doesn’t miss the pout tinting Jimin’s rant. He likes it when Jimin wears his feelings on his sleeve, he loves how easy it is to read him, it always makes things feel more real, it helps because that way Yoongi doesn’t have to doubt everything. “It’s the one your mother gave you” he hears him say. “You always use this one around holidays”. It’s calming, how Jimin knows of his little habits, how easy it is for him to make Yoongi feel safe with just that.

“Yeah, it is this one. Thanks” he mumbles, and it sounds a little muffled by the scarf, but he enjoys it a little too much, the wool is warm and soft and nice against his lips.

“No prob. But let’s get you a coffee first, you’re freezing”

“’m not”

Jimin pecks him on the nose and his lips feel really warm and maybe yes, he’s freezing a bit, because his skin starts to sting where it misses Jimin’s warm touch. Which is everywhere, if he’s honest to himself, so he settles with holding his boyfriend’s hand a little bit tighter and focusing on the warm feeling expanding on his chest as they walk.

It’s always upsetting, getting lost, his mind detaching from time and giving him the ugliest of feelings, shaking his sense of reality away, making him doubt things. But it’s nice, when he’s welcomed back like this on every one of those times, with Jimin reassuring him, reminding him of things, with all those little details he seems to know like the back of his hand.

With Jimin always by his side, the only thing he never lets slip from his mind, from his thoughts. Always Jimin.

 ♢♢♢

More often than not, than he’d like to, Yoongi can’t find his body. He totally loses track of it, and he tries really hard to find it, but he can’t seem to, and that’s when he feels upset the most. He knows he has one, of course he does, he can see it, but he feels so out of it, it punches the air out of his lungs. Those times, he cannot feel his limbs his, he can see fingers moving and he can see a face reflected on a mirror, but it’s not him moving them and it’s not him the one looking back on the reflection. Those legs are supposed to be his, but they feel so out of place he’s sure they will give in any minute, and he’ll fall and break of how little he’s feeling himself, with his chest not breathing enough air in, and his head feeling so light, it’s only baffling. He feels like he’s watching someone else, he feels like he’s watching himself from outside, and it is so maddening, he feels like he’s gonna lose it any minute.

Now, he knows Jimin’s hands are all over his skin, he knows because he felt them a minute ago, soft fingertips all over his thighs and his tummy and chest. He knows Jimin is kissing his lips, because he felt those lips when they were making paths from his hips to his jawline, he remembers the little bites and the playful tongue. He knows that Jimin is five inches deep into him and it should feel right, him moaning into the crook of his neck should feel good, but it doesn’t, because he’s not really feeling it, he’s feeling out of it and his chest is not letting his lungs breathe properly and he feels so light headed he starts to panic.

“Stop” he whispers, and he chokes on his own breath and he literally feels his chest closing because he can see a pair of legs around Jimin’s hips and he should feel attached to them but he doesn’t, and those hands clutching to the younger’s back are supposed to be his, but are they really? So he panics, and he panics a lot. “Stop, stop stopstop” he feels like drowning, and he’s not sure if Jimin really heard his broken mumbles, but then the younger one does stop and the anguish still doesn’t fade, he still doesn’t feel like himself and it’s so unsettling, so so triggering, he’s gonna have an anxiety attack any minute.

“Yoongs?” Jimin is there, right on top of him and breathless and in all his messy-hair-swollen-lips glory, and he looks so beautiful it hurts, because it shouldn’t be happening, he shouldn’t be feeling like this, he shouldn't ruin things like this, but that hand on Jimin’s chest feels so not his, he can’t help but let all the bad thoughts hit him all over again. “Hey, you okay?” Jimin moves and caresses his cheeks and he doesn’t realize until then that his cheeks must be wet, because Jimin is serious all of a sudden, totally out of him and worried.  “Yoongs, you’re kinda scaring me, what’s going on, talk to me please”

“I just.. I don’ feel, my body, my body, it feels weird I was just looking at my legs around your hips and they didn’t feel mine and I just.. I panicked they don’t feel like mine I know they are but I’m feeling out of myself and I’m sorry I just, I-”

“Hey, hey, calm down. Yoongs, just, calm down, okay? You’re not breathing” he feels how strong Jimin’s grip is on his cheeks, and he tries really hard to focus on that, tries to use the pressure Jimin’s fingertips make on his jaw as a way to find himself one more time. “Breathe with me. It’s okay, you’re okay, you just need to calm down. What do you want me to do? Can I hug you?”

Jimin knows, he knows every time Yoongi feels like this, hugs help, the tightest he can, as strong as his arms can circle around him, the more pressure he feels, the easiest it will be for him to snap out of it, Jimin knows. But he still asks every time, and it is so endearing, how even if he knows, he still makes sure he does nothing to trigger him, how he always tiptoes around him, trying to make him feel every bit comfortable.

So he nods, and it takes less than a second for Jimin to be everywhere, all arms and kisses and sweet nothings being whispered and it is so relaxing it feels ridiculous. It is so easy, for Jimin to relax him and fill whatever void he’s feeling on his chest, to shush all the anxiety away, Yoongi almost feels like laughing. His hands circle around the younger’s waist and he holds like he doesn’t want to ever let go.

He doesn’t deserve Jimin, he thinks. Jimin that must be really frustrated right now, still hard and so close to his own release before Yoongi decided it was a good moment to let his fucked up mind take command. Jimin that is hugging him so hard right now he wouldn’t be surprised if bruises with the shape of fingertips blossom on his pale body tomorrow. Jimin that always, always knows how to handle him. He doesn’t deserve him and he feels so bad for making him go through this, he feels so stupid and ashamed and dumb and Jimin shouldn’t be with him, he should find someone better, someone that is not broken, someone that can hold themselves just fine.

But the idea of Jimin not being around scares him most than his body not feeling his, so he tries to choke that ugly thought back down where it belongs before he lets it grow on his chest, because Jimin is right there now, hugging him and mumbling encouraging words and being his down to earth and if he’s still doing all that, maybe, maybe it means he will stay.

“You better?” he hears him mumbling against the shell of his ear some time later, and he splashes a lot of kisses there, kisses his lobe, his temple, right there behind his ear, his jaw. Yoongi can’t help but smile. It’s so Jimin, so dumb and so Jimin.

“Yeah” he wriggles under Jimin until he gets it and moves, and they’re cuddling now, facing each other. “I’m sorry” he whispers against the other’s neck, and he feels soft and okay, his lips are kissing whatever skin he can reach and they feel his now, his arms are around the other’s waist and they are his too, and it’s okay. “I ruined it, I just... ruined it all, I’m-”

“It’s okay” he pecks Yoongi’s nose. “I can’t really be mad when you’re not feeling well, you know, I’m not a jerk” another peck, and then a bunch more, on his lips and his cheeks and eyelids and just everywhere, and it makes Yoongi’s chest feel alright.

“But you were..”

“Don’t worry about me, I can live without orgasms just fine” he says it like it’s the best thing he can say about himself, so full of pride Yoongi can only snort. “We can cuddle, I am the biggest fan of cuddles, hyung. Let’s do a cuddling fight!”

It’s amazing, how a minute ago he was panicking about Jimin hating him for the biggest cock block he could possibly ever pull, and now he feels like he couldn’t be more in love with the boy, because seriously, cuddling fights?

“How do you even do cuddling fights?” he laughs, because Jimin has already started whatever that is, and his kisses are tickling him everywhere and the younger is moving all over his body, kissing and biting softly and even blowing raspberries from time to time and it’s just too much. “Wait, that- that’s-that tickles, stop, ohmygod”

“I’ll show you" he blows a last raspberry before settling himself to Yoongi’s side, and his arms are around him again. “I’ll be the big spoon, because I am the king of cuddles”

“You are?” he doesn’t mind, he really likes how Jimin’s heat feels against his back, how their legs tangle so easily. How his body is feeling his now, how okay it all feels in that moment.

“Oh yes, there’s no point in arguing about this” he feels a kiss on his nape, and then a nose pressing and warm breath touching his skin and his mind has never felt more at ease than now. “I love you, Yoongs”

It spreads like fire, from his chest to every corner of his body, tickling his fingertips and curling his toes. It’s the most relaxing thing he has heard the whole day, and Yoongi feels a little envious of how easy this all seems to be for Jimin. He wishes he could be the same when things get rough.

“You’re not that bad, either”

“Aish, why are you like this? You know what? I’m cuddling with you forever, we’re never leaving this bed and you’ll never be able to move... and then we’ll sleep forever. And you’ll miss all your fave shows” Jimin gets really random when he’s sleepy, and he loves it every time. He smiles fondly at how slurred his non-threatening-at-all words sound, and how the breath that’s warming his nape becomes more even and profound.

“Aren’t you too evil?”

“The ultimate worst, fear me”

He lets that warm feeling on his belly lull him to sleep, that one Jimin’s hands moving absently next to his hips make him feel, before he starts doubting things again.

It’s his belly and those are Jimin’s hands and it’s okay, they feel okay.

♢♢♢

There are other times, bad times, very bad ones, when Yoongi thinks things are not real. Not a thing of what he sees or feels seems to be real, he can’t really trust his senses because everything seems to be fake, and that drives him the worst kind of crazy. Things don’t seem to add up, and his brain forces him to believe things he’s sure about, are not real. He can’t trust them, his thoughts, why would he, when they're nothing but fucked up, when his mind is broken beyond repair and makes him perceive things as if they were made of broken glass, full of cracks and missing pieces. Those days are always the worst, and they find him locked on his bathroom, silently crying because why does it have to be this way, why can’t he have a full week without feeling like utter shit, why can’t his brain just do things right. Why are the voices in his head, reinforcing every bad thought, every bad idea he has ever had, not shutting up.

Why is Jimin, every time this happens, on the other side of the door, waiting. Always waiting, and never giving up.

“Hyung” he listens. But it might as well not be real. He is probably imagining things right now. “Hyung, have you taken your meds?”

What if this is all a dream? What if this is nothing but a nightmare? One he cannot wake up from. What if he’s not really there and somewhere else and he can’t find himself? What if this is the other end to every time he drifts away or doesn’t remember things?

“Hyung, answer me, please” there is a soft thud against the floor, and Yoongi imagines Jimin sitting down next to the door. But what if…

“What is the fucking point, they don’t help” his voice is broken and there are more tears streaming down his cheeks, but he doesn’t bother in cleaning them away, because they are not real, he’s not real and nothing is real, so why bother.

What if nothing he has ever experienced actually happened? What if every memory he has ever had is only but made up?

What if Jimin…

“Hyung, tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Let me help, please”

“This is just… nothing feels real. Why should I take those shitty pills when they don’t stop things from feeling wobbly and fake and just... this is not real. None of it feels real, none of it feels…” he trails off, and decides that hiding his face on his hands is better, that way they will stop shaking and feeling itchy, as if they were telling him to do things he should not. His head hurts from all the crying, from all the nasty feelings filling his mind.

“Let me in, please”

“None of this feels real. Nothing in this shitty world is real, this is a nightmare, all of this. I am a nightmare and-” it all feels like a mistake, a big big mistake he can’t wake up from and it’s hurting his mind and messing with his senses.

“Yoongi, open the door. I am real, and so are you, let me show you how real we are. I want to hug you so please, please open the door so I can do that”

He doesn’t really believe what he hears, but he also finds himself opening the door, finally, because there is something about that voice he listens that is pulling him towards it. It might not be real and he might find himself in a deeper black hole but there is just something about it, he doesn’t really mind losing himself if it is while listening to this voice, soothing even when it’s full of worry.

And that’s how he finds himself between two arms he knows so well, surrounded by a warm body that molds almost perfectly with his, cuddling in the most awkward yet perfect way two people could be cuddling on a bathroom floor full of broken glass.

“Why is the mirror all over our bathroom floor?” Yoongi can’t see because his face is hidden on the other’s neck, but he can sense a tint of amusement on Jimin’s voice, almost as if he found it super hilarious that their mirror is broken and spread all over the place and not on the wall where it should be.

“I… didn’t like the person that looked back at me” he admits, and Jimin’s embrace tightens up some. “Sorry, I’ll buy a new one”

Jimin rocks them back and forth so softly and slowly Yoongi almost misses it, but it’s helping sooth his mind and he feels very thankful, because those ugly shouted thoughts about how nothing being real and everything being fake are now shushing and his mind being silent is really overwhelming.

“Did you hurt yourself? Are you bleeding?” Jimin’s chin weights on top of Yoongi’s head where it’s resting, but Yoongi doesn’t mind, because it’s slowly starting to feel very real and that’s okay, that’s how it should be.

“No, I didn’t”

“Did you do it because you wanted to hurt yourself?” Jimin’s voice is wary now, and he hates it. He hates the fact Jimin is worrying about it, hates the fact Jimin is ever considering the idea. He hates how rightful Jimin is about considering that.

He looks at his hands, clutching at Jimin’s soft thin summer tee, hidden between their bodies, and takes a deep breath because being honest is never easy. “No, I didn’t do it because of that. I just thought the mirror was lying” he feels really stupid, but he decides Jimin deserves to know.

“Why would it be lying, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen”

That’s definitely the most off thing Jimin could have said in that moment, but Yoongi is snorting so it’s working, oddly. It sends waves of relief down his spine and for two whole minutes, he doesn’t feel like things are the product of a really twisted nightmare he can’t escape from.

“That’s not what I…”                                                   

“I know, I know, I was just being dumb, sue me” Yoongi looks at him then, it amazes him every time how easy it is for the young boy to find new ways of sending his crappy mind to sleep. “What about having a bath together, huh? We can use one of your dumb bath bombs”

“They are not dumb” he would fight him better than that, but Jimin is stripping him from his clothes so he finds it hard to be mad at him. He rolls his eyes when Jimin takes off his shirt and kisses there where his sternum ends, but a little smile escapes anyways when he hears the other giggling at his reaction.

“Okay, they’re not dumb, they’re cute. And colorful. And relaxing”

“That’s better” the other’s fingers are fumbling with the elastic of his sweatpants and boxers, and it’s not sexual in the slightlest, but Yoongi can’t help but feel stupid butterflies on his belly. It’s really lovingly, how much Jimin seems to care and how little he seems to mind. “I can take my pants off myself, you know. My brain’s full of dark twisted thoughts and shit but I think I can still take my pants off” he teases, because Jimin is being too caring and too good to him, and he doesn’t really know how to deal when he's like that if not by ruining it entirely with his lame retorts.

“Okay, you can keep your pride. Just be careful not to step on any shard of glass, alright?” he sticks his tongue out but lets him do. “And I know, hyung, I know you’re functional”

It’s a silly clarification, because of course Yoongi knows Jimin thinks that, but hearing it feels so nice anyways, especially when he doesn't believe it himself sometimes. He stops a full three seconds to look at him, the deep kind of look, the one that exposes how much he loves Jimin and how terrified he is of losing him, of tiring him with his shitty mood swings and weird thoughts and even uglier attacks and crises from time to time. That look that strips naked his soul for Jimin to look and memorize, with all its cracks and patches, but also with all the love Jimin gives back, with all his kisses and hugs and smiles and the laughter, that laughter that has saved him so many times before.

Later, he will find themselves on the bathtub, surrounded by the warmest water, colored and scented in some weird way, peach probably, since Jimin seems to really like peach scented things, and it will feel real. Jimin will wash his hair and comment on how his green seems to be fading and how maybe he should try a new color, do something new and different, if he feels like it, and it all will feel domestic and real for a while, a long while.

It all will feel like things could go well indefinitely, every time Jimin laughs it seems like they will, and he finds it very relaxing how the orange haired boy seems to know that too, and how he knows just the perfect way to keep all the bad at bay.

♢♢♢

But that is not enough, sometimes. It’s never enough actually, he knows, because sometimes, on his worst days, his very very bad days, days that are as dark as they can get and as heavy as he wishes they’d never be, Yoongi wishes he wasn’t real. He wishes he could stop existing, he wishes he could separate from his body and never, ever reach it back, because what is the point. He wishes for his worst fear to actually happen, and that scares him the most, it scares him to no end.

What is the point, when every time things seem to go well, there is something that is going to ruin it, when no matter how good things seem to be, they always, always get fucked up and it’s never, never enough, no matter how hard he tries to, the good is never enough, it will never be enough.

He really wishes he could just disappear, close his eyes and let the ugliest thoughts he could manage to create on his mind to take him over, finally, because he makes nothing but Jimin sad, he does nothing but hurt him, and he is tired of not being able to stop it. He is so tired of things being good for a while and Jimin smiling brightly and being happy only to find Yoongi gone and lost and scared some nights. He is so tired of seeing how Jimin tries, tries really hard, not to let their surroundings crumble around them when Yoongi feels weak enough to keep them up himself. He is tired of letting the bad be always heavier than the good.

He is tired, so tired, of losing it and it being Jimin the one receiving his crap always, the one that has to listen to his screams and yells and the one that has to deal with him pushing everything away when it is too much, Jimin included.

Like in that moment. He knows he fucked up the minute he sees Jimin’s face contort into one of sheer disbelief, of hurt, hurt he caused because he just shoved him away and he doesn’t even remember why. He can only remember the rush of frantic thoughts and how bad he wanted them to stop and Jimin trying to reach and…

He swore he would never, under any circumstance, push Jimin away, and he just did that.

There is an awful, awkward silence he wants to break desperately but fears will shatter any minute from now, and it is Jimin the one that makes a decision.

“I just want to help you, you know!?” he can see Jimin is trying really hard not to get angry, but tears are filling up his eyes, Yoongi can see that too, and Jimin is only human, but he’s still terrified, because he’s doing it again, he’s ruining things again.

He is tired of not loving him properly, of not giving him what he deserves.

“Let me help you, Yoongi, please! I get things are not easy for you sometimes, but don’t push me away! Please!”

He hates it, how Jimin always says that word, please, how he always seems to be begging around him, how he never really gets mad at him when he has all the rights to be. He hates it how Jimin is crying now, because it was on Yoongi, he made the other cry, he always does. He hates all this because he doesn’t understand, so he lets it explode.

“Why would you?! Why, why would you want to, why... it just, it doesn’t make sense, why-”  he is not even making sense now, but nothing does, so he lets words sputter the way they want to, getting tangled with his tears. How much he’d want for things to not be real, for this to be a dream right now.

“Because I want to!” it is never nice when Jimin yells. He should never do it, because his voice breaks every time and it breaks Yoongi’s heart too. “Because I love you, Yoongi” he offers again, softer this time, and tears are running down his cheeks and Yoongi knows he is just the same, but it still pains him. “Don’t cut me off, please”

There it is again, that ugly word, that awful feeling. Yoongi wants nothing but to disappear, stop feeling things, because they are overwhelming and they are too much and he doesn’t feel like he can take the weight of the world on his shoulders in that moment, so he does the only thing he can do in that moment.

He crumbles. He lets his guard down.

“How do you do this?” It’s nothing but a whisper, but he knows Jimin heard because he’s closer now, as if on impulse, as if there was a bigger force pulling him closer no matter what, no matter how.

“Can I hug you, Yoongs? Can I get close to you?”

He hates that too. How wary the younger one needs to be in situations like these, as if he wasn’t sure how he would react, as if he needed confirmation to do the only thing Yoongi needs right now to clear his mind. As if he wasn’t sure he trusted him, maybe. But Yoongi shakes that idea away because he knows Jimin does. He wouldn’t be there if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stayed after all.

“But I wasn’t thinking and I just…”

“You know I won’t if you don’t want me to. But please, please let me hold you”

Jimin is so soft, so sweet and so soft, he wants to melt on his arms. Yoongi hides his face on the younger’s chest and it smells like him, like hazelnuts and chocolate and a bit of vanilla too, but just the slightest, and he almost misses it. It’s warm there, and it makes wonders on his peace of mind because suddenly he feels exhausted, but in the good sense. It means he has let go and he can finally breathe again, and he is nothing but thankful.

“How can you do this?” he mumbles again, and his words die muffled on soft fabric where dried tears die too, with even softer arms around him that hold every little piece of him. “How can you be so understanding and so perfect and…”

“Ah, well” Jimin clears his throat to hide all his crying, and it takes him no time to go back to his cheery self. “I was born like this, you know? Nothing we can do about it” he feels how the younger noses at the top of his head, hiding his giggles on his green hair, and it’s calming like that.

“Yah, stop being so full of yourself” he huffs, only to make Jimin laugh this time.

And just like that, Jimin makes him smile. It shouldn’t be this easy, it doesn’t feel right that it is this easy for him to make things feel better again. It scares him, kind of, because he can’t help but think what he will do whenever Jimin is not around anymore, whenever he decides that enough is enough and he can’t take more of Yoongi anymore.

But right now Jimin is spreading little butterfly kisses all over his face, making sure to cover any part of his skin he can reach, and it’s so dumb because he’s giggling and Yoongi is smiling a lot and the younger one doesn’t seem to have a plan on how to properly kiss him and it’s dumb, he’s dumb and they’re dumb.

And it feels sort of perfect. And that is scaring. All of them is scaring, but Jimin has never once let go and it grounds him once again.

“Thanks” he says after a while, when the sudden kissing attack eases, with his face hidden on Jimin’s neck like he belongs there, and he might as well do. “You always know how to make the bad things go away”

“What would you do without me, huh?” he knows Jimin is joking, he knows, but he has never said anything that is more true than that.

“I don’t know” maybe he’s being too honest because he feels really tired and he only wants to cuddle in their bed until he feels like he can't stay awake anymore, but he doesn’t really mind how vulnerable his words make him look right now. “But I don’t really wanna find out”

“You won’t, you can’t really get rid of me” his arms adjust around him and Yoongi feels like jelly of how both physically and mentally exhausted he is, but he holds the other tighter because no matter what, he never wants to let go.

“Please don’t. I feel like I lose you every time this happens” he mumbles against his skin, and he leaves shallow sleepy kisses there, tickling his lips and his heart.

“Okay, you’re being too honest, time to sleep”

“Yah” he doesn’t fight when Jimin leads them to their room, or when he takes his sweatpants off and tucks him in bed, not even when he joins minutes later and loses no time in cuddling again, making sure they don’t spend much time apart. “Is your hair really brown?” he blurts suddenly, because he just notices, and that kicks his sleep away. Jimin’s hair was orange just a few days ago and he doesn’t remember when he changed it and what if…

“Yeah, I changed it the other day. Don’t panic” he adds suddenly, and Yoongi finds himself relieved, because how come he knows him so well. “I told you, but I guess you forgot” there is no actual bite on his words, no tease, only warmth and softness driving him to sleep.

“Why did you change it? I liked the orange”

“Oh, really? I just, I don’t know, I guess I wanted a change?” that voice is making it really hard for him to keep his eyes open, so he just gives in to the pleasant coo and tries to search for sleep.

“Changes are bad, they’re confusing. I can’t call you pumpkin now”

“Oh my god, I really need to start recording you when you babble like that. This is pure gold”

He would object, but he is halfway on the land of dreams so he just lets foamy clouds surround him with no end, darkness swallowing him whole and making him fall eternally. He does listen, before losing conscience, that soft voice, his favorite one, whisper something that sounds like changes can be good, you changed for good, you’re better and I’m proud, hyung, and contrary to what he’d think, it doesn’t trigger him and it doesn’t send him to unsettling dreams.

He never does, not with Jimin.

 ♢♢♢

But sometimes, things are okay for a long while and his mind is in peace. Sometimes, Jimin kisses him and it feels like his cheeks being kissed and not a ghost of his skin. Sometimes, he listens to Jimin’s laughter and it’s like tinker bells bringing him back to his senses, like stars guiding him home after a long run on a moonless night. Sometimes he gets lost, not in his thoughts but in Jimin’s honey skin, so smooth it feels like clouds made of candy he only wants to taste till his tongue hurts. Sometimes he pays attention to the way the light reflects on his boyfriend’s skin and he truly believes the world is not an ugly place to live, because how can he think the universe is fucked up and evil when a thing like Jimin exists, with his lovely smile and his careful hands that always know how to hold him.

And it’s happening in that moment, Jimin is sleeping so soundly and he looks so peaceful with his face like that, plump lips barely open and face free of worries and he is so breathtakingly beautiful, with the morning light carefully touching every inch of skin exposed, from his forehead covered with that tousled bed hair to the exposed bit of abdomen his ridden up sleeping tee is showing. He is so beautiful it almost hits him the wrong way. But then Jimin wakes up just in time, like he always does, like he knows just when Yoongi’s strength starts to fail.

“You’re staring” he mumbles, and it’s nothing but filled with sleep and the best kind of good morning he could give. Jimin is full of puffy eyes from so much sleep and groggy smiles because he’s still half asleep, and it’s perfect. “I’m real, if you were wondering” he puts his hand on his cheek and that gesture alone is enough to send any bad thought he might have had, away.

It will forever amaze him, how with just a simple touch or three words, Jimin has a better effect than any other thing he has ever tried. He just lets the warm hand soothe him until Jimin talks again.

“So, what are we doing today?”

“Today?”

“It’s your birthday, hyung” he beams, and it’s only been a few hours since the day has started, but he decides it’s already the cutest thing he has seen this whole week.

“Is it, really?”

“Oh jesus, you forgot”

“I.. maybe” he genuinely lost track of time, if he’s honest to himself, but that doesn’t make Jimin’s smile falter, so he decides it’s not that bad.

“We could go out, have a date!” Yoongi is not so sure about leaving his bed when March is still cold and he feels so warm and soft in their set of warm blankets and their amazingly warmer comforter, and it must show on his face, because Jimin adds “Or we can cuddle a lot. You know, I’m the fan of cuddles”

“Cuddling sounds good, I love it when you beat me in cuddle fights”

“Okay, I get it it’s your birthday, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be all sassy” Jimin pouts and maybe that is the cutest thing he has seen this whole week, the month even, because his lower lip is barely protruding and his eyes are turned into slits and they are still puffy, so it only makes them look cuter and Yoongi wants nothing but to pinch his cheeks.

“I’m the prince today, I can sass all I want” he hides his face into his pillow because he’s not ready to face the world yet, but he can hear how Jimin rolls his eyes.

“You’re the prince always. I’ll go make breakfast” he leaves a quick peck on Yoongi’s temple and moves, and the bed feels immediately colder. Yoongi is not sure he likes that, he feels tempted to just reach and tuck him under the blankets with him again, but his stomach is also growling, so he resists against it.

“You’re so cheesy” he totally denies the smile that spilld from his lips, or the delicate pink tint dusting his cheeks, and if Jimin can see them, he stays silent and only smiles.

“And you love it. My prince” he hears him singsong as he leaves the bedroom and truly, what has Yoongi done in this life and his past three to deserve this.

“Your hair looks really nice with that grey color” Jimin comments a few minutes later, when they’re lying on the couch with a bunch of bowls pilling up next to them and food on ther bellies. Breakfast was more leftovers from last night than anything else, but they’re cuddling now and it all feels domestic and nice and Yoongi appreciates the effort, really. “You look like a grandpa”

“Is that your idea of a compliment?”

“The cutest grandpa! You didn’t let me finish” just a pout is what Yoongi’s heart needs to skip a beat or two. “The cutestest of grandpas”

“That’s not a word”

“You are such a party-pooper” the brunet adjusts his cuddling position next to him on the couch and they watch absently how Jimin flips through the channels, trying to find something interesting. “Hey” he says after a while of finding absolutely nothing on the TV, continuing after Yoongi answers with an hmm. “You’ve been working on your music lately, right?”

“I have” the younger one looks at him then, and that smirk only makes Yoongi feel he’s going to regret whatever’s gonna happen. “Why?”

“Can I listen?”

He should have known.

“No. They’re not finished, nothing’s finished”

“Please, show me one, just one. I wanna listen to whatever you’re working on, please. It's been so long since you last showed me something, pretty please?” Jimin pouts again, and Yoongi can count exactly how many minutes it’s gonna take for him to give in when the younger gets closer and starts kissing him on the earlobe. “Come on”

“Are you really seducing me into showing you my songs?”

“Maybe” he can hear the cheeky smile on the brunet’s voice, and his breath gets caught between his lungs a little when Jimin’s teeth nip at his lobe the softest. “Is it working?”

“Maybe” he repeats, humming.

There is a reason why he doesn’t really show his songs to Jimin until they’re finished, and it’s because they are always a mess. They’re like his mind, a whirlwind of notes and melodies with no meaning until the very last minute, and Jimin’s seen enough of that, so he only feels good enough about them when he gets to put an end to them, finally, with polished edges and harmonic beats, clear messages and fluid rhythms.

So of course he freaks out a bit, when he decides to hit play on one of the latest things he’s been working on, because it is not clean, he has nothing that can be called clean, it’s all a mess and it’s not perfect and it makes him feel anxious, a lot, but when he registers how Jimin’s face brightens the minute he realizes the rough lyrics are talking about him in the best of ways, his heart skips a grand total of three beats and it’s for all the good reasons. He decides then, when the other looks for his hand and laces their fingers together, mumbling a soft barely there hyung with so much more meaning than the word itself, that Jimin smiling to the words he was so very worried would be enough to describe how perfect he is for him, is the best anxiolytic he could ever, ever have.

 ♢♢♢

Occasionally, especially on rainy days, Yoongi daydreams a lot. So much he loses track of time, of what’s real or not, of who he is and what he was supposed to be doing. His face goes blank, his eyes lost, absent in time, and he is not there, but he is at the same time, trailing off to another world that only exists on his mind, one that’s only his, a million of dimensions only he can have access to. But in days like those, like this one, it’s not bad, because he is daydreaming of kisses under autumn trees, hands crushing dead leaves and dusting his afternoon, of feet running in warm wet sand and laughter hidden between waves in Busan. He daydreams of poppies in his heart and orange sunsets trying to kiss his pale skin, or an orange boy actually kissing it, as if competing with the sun itself and winning, always winning. He daydreams a lot, but on good days like those, like this one, he is not alone, he is never alone.

There is a hand there, somewhere, that reaches to grab his and ground him, but that hand is real and Yoongi snaps back into reality, his most important one, the one that matters because he gets to hear that voice.

“Come back to me, hyung” he listens, and he does. It’s a whisper, soft, wrapping him, and it dissipates the haze in his mind.

“I’m here”

“Welcome back” Jimin kisses his forehead and smiles against his skin, and Yoongi finds himself in the corners of Jimin’s big, comfortable arms, those corners he memorized so many sleepless nights, the same corners that hide the darkest tears he has ever shed. It’s warm, because that’s what Jimin is, pure warmth, and Jimin is absentmindedly rushing his finger through his grey locks, and it is so relaxing and tender he feels like sleeping forever. Jimin’s presence itself is so calming, with their breathings almost matching and the brunet’s chin resting on top of his head, Yoongi can’t help but think it’s been a long day but definitely a good one. “You doing good there?”

His arms are wrapped around Jimin’s middle, tight, and it’s become a habit of his, to hold him tightly whenever they cuddle, whenever he can. Jimin likes it, he can tell, because the minute his hands close around his waist, the younger molds to his body, like puzzle pieces finally fitting perfectly. Their legs are tangled in ways he never thought legs could be tangled, and he finds it a little hard to find out which pair is his and which Jimin’s, but that doesn’t upset him, because his head is pillowed in the other’s arm and it’s warm and okay.

He doesn’t know how he’s doing. He only knows it’s been a long day, a very long one, and it was good. He knows it’s been a bunch of those lately, and that scares him, because he can feel how things are starting to get paper thin and he really, really doesn’t want to crumble again. He’s had a bunch of good days in a row and he wants to take them to their fullest before he runs out of them again, because he knows it’s a matter of time before a bad thought pops in his mind suddenly again and takes all this progress to hell. He’s been feeling good for a while, he knows the bad is just around the corner like it always is.

So he doesn’t know how he is doing, and he doesn’t want to know, because admitting he’s doing good feels like a placebo and saying he’s doing bad is a lie right now, so he just doesn’t answer. Silence is not awkward between them, it never is, and their heartbeats filling the room are enough, so he just doesn’t answer.

“If it’s not okay now, it’ll be okay someday” Jimin offers, petting his hair and kissing his forehead, his temple, his eyelids. “Yeah?”

“Don’t do that, it makes me feel sleepy” he mumbles, and that only intensifies the little pecks around his eyes, a lot of kisses hanging from his eyelashes. “Yeah” he answers the question after a few heartbeats, and he nuzzles his nose on his boyfriend’s chest to escape the ferocious attack of butterfly kisses on his face, deciding to revel on his never-ending warmth.

“I know what you’re thinking” Jimin says, and Yoongi can hear his heartbeats so loud against his ears, he gets lost in them for a second. His chest moves whenever he breathes to speak. “Don’t let it get to you”

“I know” he traces Jimin’s abdomen, every muscle and every crevice, every corner and every bone. “Thanks”

“Whenever” he giggles, and it sounds like water running through rocks high on the mountains, cooing him to sleep. “That tickles”

His hand stops then, flat against Jimin’s abdomen, and he just feels. “So beautiful” he mumbles.

“My body? You wanna get this?” he teases, brushing his fingers up Yoongi’s arms seductively, and he can only roll his eyes, because of course Jimin would take it that way.

“You” he deadpans. “I feel like I don’t tell you how beautiful you are to me enough. But if you’re going to act all cocky, I might as well keep it to myself from now on” he removes his hand from Jimin’s chest on a full display of his fake offense, and Jimin laughs.

“Aigoo, no, wait” Jimin moves to hug him tightly, and somehow he ends up on top of Yoongi, all laughs and pecks all over his face. “Tell me I’m pretty again”

“No. Get off, you’re heavy” Jimin doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, but Yoongi doesn’t really mind, because a smile filters through his lips and it’s a gummy one, like the ones Jimin likes so fondly.

“I love you, Yoongs” he kisses the tip of his nose, and it’s nothing but sincere, Yoongi knows, Jimin’s heart against his tells him so. “I love you and I want you to know that nothing’s changing that, yeah?”

“So cheesy” he has nowhere he can hide his face, so Jimin gets to see the flush of his cheeks, and the younger smiles widely. “I love you too”

He leans in and closes the tiny gap between them before Jimin can add something dumb and ruin the moment, and their lips are chapped and it takes the younger by surprise so he doesn’t answer instantly, but their mouths mold perfectly to each other’s and it’s like ice melting and solidifying at the same time. There are hands all over the place but no one is rushing and Yoongi feels like he could kiss him for all eternity, like if his lips remain together, nothing bad can happen, all his days will forever be good.

He knows that’s a lie, but he lets himself enjoy this moment, because Jimin makes him feel like he can go to a lot of different places on his mind and come back safely and it’s all that matters at the end of the day.

 ♢♢♢

Some nights, Yoongi’s mind gets full of gaps, so many of them it feels like a road full of holes, like his mind is a piece of fabric bitten by moths, with memories seeping through his fingers, leaving that annoying feeling of knowing but not enough, never enough. It makes his mind be filled with big vast blank spaces that become mazes he doesn’t know how to get away from, with too many walls and too little air to breathe, and that usually scares him shitless, because he feels so lost and trapped on his own head, it only adds to his feeling of unreality, the fear of things not really being the way his senses tell him they are.

But then, he takes note of a pair of hands on his hips, strong and stable, so much, the grounding effect leaves him breathless, his head spinning of how fast he feels in the right place now. There are fingers pressed against his hipbones in ways he is sure are going to bruise and bloom in all kinds of pretty purples, and there are fingernails creating the tiniest, simplest crescent moons on his pale skin and there is an odd feeling too, pressure between his legs that feels way too good and oh, oh, he’s riding Jimin.

He’s panting, filled to the brim, his hands flat against the other’s chest and he’s riding Jimin.

“You okay?” Jimin looks at him curiously, and Yoongi knows he’s getting worried, because he must have seen how out of place he feels. “You suddenly stopped there. Not that I mind but…”

“I’m fine, I just… don’t remember how I got here” he looks around and they’re in their shared room, as expected, and Yoongi is on top of the younger and there is nothing out of place, not even a bit, but it feels so weird and confusing because it’s all blank before this and his brain is starting to shout alarm signs and he really, really doesn’t want to ruin this again.

“Do you want to stop?” there is nothing but silence and their breaths and heartbeats, and that, somehow, eases off his confusion.

“Not really, just… help me remember?” he looks into Jimin’s brown eyes and there is so much lust, it suffocates him, but it’s okay, he feels the same.

“Oh” there is mischief in his voice, a flash of red in his eyes. “I can do that” Jimin moves into a sitting position and that sends pangs of pleasure down his spine when he adjusts to the new angle, nothing but shivers climbing up his back. “We were watching a movie” Jimin noses at his jaw, and Yoongi moves on reflex when he tilts his head to make room for the other to kiss the skin there, from the angle of his mandible to his chin, nipping and kissing. “But then, you started kissing me. A lot” more kisses down his neck, between words, full of tongue and teeth and meaningless mumbles. “Very, very insistently, if I say so”

“That… sounds like… something I’d do” he feels Jimin’s mouth on his collarbone, biting and sucking and then it’s suddenly behind his ear, kissing that place the older likes so, so much, and Yoongi arches a bit on raw impulse, earning a growl from the other.

“Yeah” Jimin moves then, a short experimental thrust, as if testing the waters, and it feels like dying because he finally, finally is moving but he is also being an asshole. “And then you… straddled me, and we kissed some more”

“Y-yeah?” Jimin has picked up a rhythm now, slow and steady, and the angle is just too much to handle and not enough at the same time, so the only logic thing Yoongi can do is try to drown his moans on his boyfriend’s lips, a clash of mouths more than anything else, but Yoongi can’t bring himself to mind what they’re trying to do.

“Mhn, yeah” Jimin is faster now, skin shimmering with sweat and lips swollen and eyes lidded in the most sinful of ways, and Yoongi feels like arching his back in the weirdest of angles he can manage, but he’s flushed against Jimin’s chest and his heat is so overwhelming and grounding, the brunet’s warmth getting to every crevice of his existence, he resists the idea. He meets him halfway on every thrust, though, and his thighs start to ache, but it feels good and comforting, in a way. “And… then your pants were off... somehow”

He likes how Jimin’s voice sounds, breathless and broken at the end of every word, clogged with choked moans, because it’s all him, he’s doing that, pushing Jimin to his limit, and it feels real on every inch of his body. “A-and yours?”

“Oh… they were off, too- damn it, Yoongs” he then adjusts around Jimin, clenching, and it feels delicious in a way nothing else can feel. It burns, from his pelvis to his back, arms and legs, until the feeling gets to his fingertips and curls his toes. It burns with every move and every gasp, with every hum Jimin pours onto his mouth and every bite Yoongi places on the other’s shoulder. It burns, and it feels like tickles in the morning and being alive.

For a fleeting second, between solid hands on his back scratching red marks that fade too soon and his name being moaned in the best of ways, he feels ridiculous. Ridiculous of the idea of a dick up his ass being an anchor to his sanity, of skin against skin and heat, so much human heat wrapping him, it weirdly feels like his down to earth. It is a ridiculous, hilarious way of putting his mind to ease, and he almost feels like laughing at how of an idiot he feels, but then he realizes it’s not a dick on his ass or moans getting lost in his ears, but the owner.

It’s Jimin, it’s always Jimin. With his sloppy kisses and his miserably silenced moans, with his hips thrusting his way up and hitting there, exactly there, with his hands going from the small of his back to his thighs, and then to wrap around his length and flick and tuck with the perfect pressure and the perfect angle, turning Yoongi into a puddle of gasped curses and drowned moans. It’s Jimin because there is nothing more raw than this, there is no other moment where he is vulnerable and exposed like this, open for the brunet to explore him up and down and see every nook and crook. It’s Jimin’s love also, it feels raw too, fiery and unruly, hitting him so strong on his chest he can’t breathe, wanting to make him cry of how much he loves him back and how little he feels he’s giving back.

Jimin is his down to earth and will always be.

It feels so real it slaps him in the face. He has never felt more raw and real than this and it closes down his chest and makes him stutter on his rhythm for a minute or two.

“Oh god, you’re real” he gasps on the other’s lips, and he is close, so close it’s hurting. Their foreheads are pressed and their breaths mix, and Yoongi doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he resolves into making his fingers get lost on Jimin’s hair, tucking slightly with every thrust that pulls him closer to the edge.

“Yoongs?” it’s whispered against his lips, and it feels wonderful, but then Jimin stops and he can’t help the frown that flourishes on his face, because really, he looks so beautiful, being breathless and flushed down to his chest, and why did he have to stop. “Hey, you want to stop? We can stop if it’s too much for you”

“No, no. Just… tell me you’re real. This is… real, it’s real”

He doesn’t dare open his eyes, but Jimin holds his face between his hands softly then, just like he holds his heart, and even though he can’t see, his gaze burns amazingly against his flushed cheeks, his bitten lips, his entire soul.

“You’re real” it’s a whisper against his eyelids, and it comes with a kiss to the tip of his nose and the slowest of thrusts. “I am real, too” kisses concentrate on the corner of his lips, on his open mouth. “We… are real” he gasps against his lips. Jimin’s pace becomes faster, too fast his breath gets stuck on his throat a few times and his head feels so dizzy it’s disorienting him, but his hands never leave Yoongi’s face and their lips are brushing so it’s okay, that brings him back. “Very, very… fuck- real”

It’s almost overwhelming, and Yoongi can’t help but drink all of Jimin’s whispers and gasps, giving nothing but moans and cries in return. He feels so full, so ready to explode any minute now, he wants to scream. So he does, he screams Jimin’s name in pathetic soft weeps, he mumbles the biggest incoherencies into the younger’s lips, and they also happen to be the biggest truths he has ever said in his life. He arches and it is too much, Jimin is just too much.

“And I’m… oh god- I’m here”

“You are. We-“ Jimin chokes on his words when Yoongi moves in a certain way that makes his head spin, and the older decides words are no longer needed there, not when he can see white already, little lights gathering on his closed eyelids, ready to explode any second. Words are not needed, so they kiss.

They kiss like there is no tomorrow, they kiss until their lips bruise and their lungs die some, until their chests hurt and their heads threaten to shut down from lack of oxygen. Jimin’s hand is back on Yoongi’s length, and Yoongi’s fingers dig on the other’s shoulders and nape and just everywhere as if they were his life-line, because right now all the edges are blurred and he is almost there, he can almost touch it, and honestly, it’s too much to take in.

Yoongi comes between their stomachs and on Jimin’s hand with no warning, in a rush of white and curses and names being awfully pronounced and a second or two of maybe spacing out. He sees the lights on the back of his mind exploding as he rides his orgasm, and he can sense the start of overstimulation and the pang of pain on his lower abdomen, but he resists the uncomfortable feeling, letting Jimin chase after his own release. It’s worth it, because then Jimin is moaning on his ear, lips pressed against the back of it, mumbling the most beautiful nonsenses, filling him with warmth and love, so much love he bites his lips until he draws some blood, and somehow, Jimin’s growls are the most credible thing he has ever heard.

He feels lulled to sleep right there, on the brunet’s arms, with his forehead resting in the other’s shoulder and their breaths catching up. He holds tightly, because all his walls feel vulnerable and he’s afraid Jimin will slip from his grip. So he just stays there without moving and without letting go, never wanting to let go.

Jimin, of course, can sense that, and it takes him no time to grab his face between his hands one more time and look him deep in the eye.

“You know, right, Yoongs? You know?” Jimin looks so blissfully fucked, with his hair a mess and his neck even messier, decorated with thousands of hickeys, his swollen and smiley lips and his tinted cheeks, it should be a crime. It should be a crime for Yoongi to deserve him, but he does.

And does he know, too.

He knows Jimin is never leaving, he knows Jimin is the only thing he’s sure is real in this ugly world, he knows he’s his down to earth, the only one who knows how to relax him, the only reality he wants to live, to remember. He knows a lot of things he can’t really put into words, but it’s better that way, because they both know and that’s enough. Of course he knows.

“I know”

He knows the only place that feels really warm and real and there are Jimin’s arms and Jimin’s lips. He knows.

And he needs nothing else.

 ♢♢♢

Sometimes, Yoongi can’t feel his body, feather-light limbs and heart. Other times, his body weights a lot, heavy with how real it is, lungs full of stones and head a burden. There are times in which he cannot remember things he did, moments of panic where he finds himself lost and alone, even if he’s not. On specific days, he does nothing but remember every little detail possible, like how Jimin bought kiwis for him the other day and they ate them at two am in the morning just because Yoongi really felt like it, or how cutely Jimin frowns his nose and wrinkles form there when pouting stops working as bribery.

He often finds himself not knowing who he is, if he’s even there at all or if it’s all just a big, fucked up nightmare he can’t wake up from, some kind of trap his mind loves to torture him with. But lately, more than never, he panics at how much he knows about himself, because it’s a new feeling, an odd, foreign feeling he doesn’t know how to deal with, a feeling he’s not sure he likes. But sometimes, most of times, when he carefully follows the gentle rhythm some fingertips make on his skin, fingertips he knows well, or when he counts all the kisses that hang on his eyelashes, he has no doubt he is Min Yoongi and very in love. He is so sure, it sends a wave of calmness down his whole body, so calm it feels like a dream, but Yoongi doesn’t panic, because it feels like the good kind of dream, a good feeling. The same feeling Jimin’s soft laughter invades him with, like a blow of pure fresh air he didn’t know he needed, or the feeling Jimin’s hands are leaving now, fingers rushing through his hair, sweetly massaging his scalp, relaxing him to the deepest corner of his chest.

“Where are you right now, hyung?” the soft voice breaks through his chain of thoughts, and he realizes being pushed back into reality with mumbles like that one against his hair is not triggering at all. It only feels like being hugged and reminded of things going well.

“Nowhere, really” he shifts on Jimin’s arms, resting his head on the other’s chest, getting lost in his heartbeats, wanting to make music with that beat in millions of different ways, listening to the lyrics they’re asking him to write. “I was just thinking”

“Wanna share?”

He does, they always share everything, but he doesn’t know how to start. How should he put into words how easy it is for Jimin to snap him back into reality, to take all the sadness and darkness away, to make him feel like things are good and will always be that way. How can he express the relief he feels on his chest whenever Jimin laughs or pouts or just hums a song whenever they’re lazing around their shared place. How can he say all that, how to be clear enough for the younger to truly understand about how light his chest feels and how silent and calm his mind is whenever Jimin kisses him and drowns him with I love yous and You’re beautifuls and all kinds of affections.

He can’t, he really tries hard to, but he just can’t.

“I am just… really thankful I have you” it’s not even half close to what he truly feels, those words don’t even encapsulate a third of what he really wants him to know, but he decides it's enough for now, sort of. Letting Jimin love him and loving back has always been easier than putting his thoughts and feelings into words, after all.

His response takes Jimin by surprise, and Yoongi finds a little of satisfaction in that, smirking between the creases of Jimin’s practice tee, the one he didn’t get time to take off once he got back from practice because Yoongi was already linking his arms around his middle, the one he sweated on and felt disgusting in, but Yoongi was not giving up the hug so he decided it wasn’t that bad.

“You were thinking that?” he hums, genuinely curious, as if it’s the very first time he’s entertaining that idea, with a smile leaking through his voice. Fingers are carding through Yoongi’s grey locks again and it’s nothing but peaceful everywhere. It’s been a while since he last had a marathon of good days.

Yoongi has half the mind to feel offended by a grand total of five second, because how come Jimin doubts he could think that. How can he even waver, how can he even fathom the idea of Yoongi not thinking that way about him. But then again, Yoongi can never seem to find the words to let him know, so.

He truly has no idea. Jimin with his smiles and his heart made of gold, with his lungs so full of love and arms with nothing but hugs and validation. Jimin with his lips ready to kiss whenever they can, whenever they need, with his fingers that know every inch of his body and how to press all of his buttons. Jimin being just Jimin.

He truly has no idea the effect he has.

“You have no idea” he voices, lifting his head from where it was resting, and looks him in the eye. It’s been hours since Jimin got home from practice, but his cheeks are still flushed red and his hair is still a little damp and messy from sweating and the young one would say he’s all disgusting without hesitation, but Yoongi thinks he looks beautiful like that. All slightly tired and so human, so imperfectly perfect.

“Hm? Enlighten me, then” he gives Yoongi that worn out smile, the one that makes things twirl inside of his chest. The older moves until he’s straddling him, and Jimin makes a little squeaky noise Yoongi feels proud of. “Oh”

“You help me a lot, always. All the time” he plants a kiss on the corner of Jimin’s lips and the other giggles some. “You take the bad thoughts away” it’s a full kiss now, one Jimin is really eager to return, so full of love and passion it aches on the deepest of Yoongi’s bones, sending all his nerves into short-circuit. “You ground me” he delivers a bunch of butterfly kisses on the brunet’s jawline, from his ear to his chin and down, all over the expanse of that neck made of honey and stars.

That’s the word, the feeling. Jimin grounds him. In ways nothing else can do, in ways he cannot comprehend and doesn’t really want to, as long as it stays that way.

“I love you” Jimin giggles, because Yoongi’s lips feel really warm against his tee, mouthing those words over his chest, exactly where the heart lays, beating fast for him to listen, a song he knows by memory.

“I love you too, hyung. A lot” Jimin’s giggles choke and die on his lips when Yoongi’s pale hands sneak under his tee and reveal his chest for the older to resume his kissing path. “Wait no, hyung, I’m all sweaty and ugly, don’t” he complains, but his body betrays him when his back arches at Yoongi’s teeth playing with one of his nipples. “Wait wait, I’m all- oh come on” Yoongi sucks particularly hard and smiles at his little mischief.

“Don’t mind” he mumbles, and the warmth of his mouth has Jimin quivering a bit, that and the soft afternoon breeze hitting his too-warm-from-dancing skin. It makes Jimin push his hips further unconsciously and Yoongi growls at that.

He gives up on Jimin’s nipple in favor of splashing lots and lots of kisses on his tummy, on every rib he can sense and in between them too, on Jimin’s belly button, making him giggle a lot, and on the lining hipbones cut on the younger’s skin. Down and up and to the sides and down again.

“Don’t ever leave me, please” he mouths against the skin there, right were Jimin’s sweatpants start, stopping him from kissing lower.

“I could never” he breathes, out of air, and Yoongi doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s already worked up because well, his mouth is mere inches away from the brunet’s crotch and he can feel it. “I will never. I’m always… I’m always here, don’t doubt that. You know”

“I know” he bites at the younger’s waistband, lazily lowering it with nothing but his teeth, and Jimin huffs impatiently, lifting his hips up in order to help the undressing fasten up a little bit.

“Are you seriously going to blow me when I’m all sweaty and ugly from practicing the whole day?”

“It’s your birthday, why not” he mumbles against the exposed new skin, kissing right at the base of Jimin’s dick, enjoying a bit too much how Jimin glances at him.

“And are you planning on killing me out of mere sexual frustration or something? Because seriously…”

“I can stop if you don’t agree with my blowing technic”

“Oh fuck god no, you are not going to leave me here half hard. Help yourself down there, I beg”

“Hmm” he licks experimentally, little small flicks of his tongue at the base, slowly kissing his way up to the tip, following the dorsal vein there.

“I have never been this… fuck- rude to you. I can’t believe you”

Yoongi smirks and even has the audacity to send a gummy smile Jimin’s way, but he kisses the tip of his dick anyway.

“You’re in a good mood, hmm, today” Jimin notices, voice muffled in what Yoongi only can guess is the pillow. He hums, and it sends electric waves to the very end of Jimin’s spine, overflowing his brain when the older starts playing with his tongue there, pressure on his slit and warmth all over. “Ohmygod, stop the fucking tease stop it just stop it”

Yoongi smiles, wrapping his lips around Jimin’s length in response, cheeks already hollow. It feels heavy against his tongue, and that somehow, in an odd way, is grounding, like everything in Jimin.

He is in a good mood, yes, he’s been having a lot of those lately. How can he not, when he wakes up every morning to Jimin kissing his eyelids or sneaking into bed with a homemade breakfast. How can he not smile when he keeps finding little post-it notes between his music sheets with tiny encouragements scribbled in the most careful of handwritings, or comforting silences when he’s having a not so good day and the only thing he needs is to be alone for a while.

Because sometimes, when everything is wrong and he feels like just giving up and letting darkness swallow him whole, Jimin breaks through his dark cloud like the bright sun he is and proves him wrong. And sometimes, when everything is alright and he feels like he could eat the whole world if he’s holding the other’s hand, Jimin is the energy he needs to keep things that way, because he can’t do that alone, and he knows the other is more than happy to give.

He’s like a constant, always there. When days are ugly and things are confusing and tiring, Jimin is there with arms open and ready, and when days are good and the haze on his mind is gone, he is there too, to make sure it stays that way as long as possible, to remind him he's functional, and that’s one of the things he’s the most thankful for.

One way or another, Jimin is always there. Like a pillar.

Jimin, who is warm and thick and heavy on his mouth right now, and that’s the most veracious thing he has ever known. He, who is nothing but moans and mumbles that sound like his name and oh my gods and fuckfuckfucks, and that is real, it feels so, so real, it hits Yoongi hard on the face. That maybe that’s enough for him to stop thinking the universe will shatter on him any minute. Jimin will be enough.

So it’s okay for a while, he knows, because whenever it stops being okay, whenever his mind falls again on that whirlwind of anxiety and confusion, Jimin will be there to remind him that things do get better. They always do if Jimin is around, if Yoongi keeps coming back to him whenever he gets lost.

It’s gonna be okay, he knows in every one of their kisses that it’s gonna be okay.