Chapter Text
1. beginnings
“like this,” yoongi murmurs, like an incantation. “start on the cusp of your breath. spit it, like you’re mad. like you’ll die if you don’t get it out.”
yoongi’s hand comes up to brace jungkook's shoulder, and everything focuses in the small space of the recording booth. namjoon, p-dogg, slow rabbit—they look on from the outside. the hangeul stops swimming in the wrinkled paper. it’s quiet.
jungkook parts his mouth in the convex of the pop filter and begins to rap.
3. woods
"jungkook? where are you? jungkook-ah!"
"over here," jungkook calls loudly, voice cracking from relief.
yoongi's lithe frame breaks through the underbrush, and when he sees jungkook, he slows, skidding to a stop. dust and dirt fly up, and yoongi tries to catch his balance. jungkook just tries to compose himself.
he wasn't scared. not at all. he just got lost when he tried to take a piss. he's not shaken up. (that's what he tells himself.)
yoongi, though - yoongi's eyes are wide and wild, gleaming under the moonbeams from the forest canopy.
"jeon jungkook," yoongi says, breathless. "don't go running off in places we can't follow."
he shrugs off his windbreaker and slings it around jungkook's shoulders. jungkook lets out a strained, quiet breath as the residual warmth of yoongi's body sinks into his bare arms, and yoongi pulls him by the wrist, back to the campfire, back to the group.
10. winter
"it's cold. straighten your scarf," yoongi says, but his fingers are already reaching upward to tug at the red wool around jungkook's neck. the first knuckles of his hands press against the line of the boy's jaw, the soft underside of his chin. yoongi draws the scarf up, the flat of his fingers brushing against jungkook's cheeks, and jungkook blinks slowly, owlishly at the gossamer touch.
yoongi feels distant alarm. something isn't right.
without warning, he ungracefully tugs the scarf up over jungkook's face and pulls his hands back like he's been burned.
"hyung," jungkook splutters, indignant. the sound is muffled; he yanks the wool down.
"fix your hair too," yoongi says, swallowing, and turns away.
79. swim
whenever they're in bodies of water, they're always fully clothed.
in some ways, when jungkook rests his palm over yoongi's hip, when he tries to smile for the picture while his focus is swimming, sinking, drowning in the obscene sensation of wet cloth against firm flesh, it's worse than being shirtless.
81. thunder
the weather has really been abysmal these days, so bad that yoongi can't even leave the dorm to get to the studio. it's forced him to stay home to work, so here he is. the thunder outside is barely audible through the music playing through his headphones. he trains his gaze on the words before him, pen poised above the paper, praying he'll actually get inspired - and then everything goes dark.
the power tripped. the entire dorm is blanketed with black.
yoongi pauses the music and slips off the headphones, blinking, looking around.
hoseok swears, jimin makes a surprised sound; namjoon's groaning "the circuit breaker", and though yoongi has an iron will and steel gut, though yoongi does not fear a lack of light, he leans in a little closer to the boy next to him.
when his vision readjusts, jungkook's staring back. the lightning strikes, briefly illuminating his face, and yoongi sees the surprise flicker.
the crack of a celestial whip sounds across the sky. jungkook does not flinch - he's not scared - but he grimaces at the noise. each time the thunder sounds, the frown deepens.
yoongi wordlessly takes the headphones from around his neck and carefully crowns jungkook.
"fly by epik high," he says, soft, and presses play.