Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10730172.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Jeon_Jungkook_&_Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Jeon_Jungkook/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga
  Character:
      Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Jeon_Jungkook, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap
      Monster, Park_Jimin_(BTS)
  Additional Tags:
      Self_Loathing, '''canon'''_universe, Canon_Universe, hints_of_jikook_-
      Freeform, Underage_Jungkook, yoonkook, Sugakookie, Angst
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-25 Words: 5755
****** Here is a map with your name for a capital, (here is an arrow to prove a
point:) ******
by flowjobyoongi_(thedastardly)
Summary
     Yoongi looks down at the top of the boy’s head and he can feel his
     eyes filling with warm tears. He looks so innocent, so pure and
     sweet, laying against him like this. Yoongi places his hand on
     Jungkook's head and smiles - he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t deserve
     this.
     He hopes that he can reconcile this in another life.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them,
Min Yoongi is sucking a bruise into the thigh of a boy who is too young to know
what that means.
There is a lot of silence in their dorm room, too much silence for comfort.
Yoongi can hear the sounds of his lips, wet and hot against Jungkook’s thigh.
He blushes red, deep red, and pulls away. Above him Jungkook has half-lidded
eyes, mouth open just slightly, teeth too big for his small mouth. Nose too big
for his small face. He’s every day of sixteen on the bed and Yoongi’s shame and
guilt is a hot brand in his heart.
 But he never pretended to be a good person. He never said he wasn’t sick.
“Stay here,” Yoongi says quietly and goes to his computer, finding anything to
fill the silence in the room. The music is just something to fill up the empty
air, to distract from the sound of… whatever sound Yoongi is making with his
mouth on Jungkook’s thighs. To mask the sound of whatever is going to come
next. And what comes after that.
Yoongi climbs back between Jungkook’s legs, laying stomach down on the bed,
shifting his larger pale hands under the dark muscles of his thighs. He didn’t
move, even an iota, and Yoongi smirks up at him, plump upper lip curving up on
one side, matched by an eyebrow. Good boy.  
“Do you like it JeonJungkookie?” he purrs out to the teenager under him. His
favorite nickname for the group maknae said all at once, a lilting song that
rolls so easily off Yoongi’s acid tongue. Something sweet for something bitter.
Alchemic exchange.
Jungkook nods, face red, ears pink at the tips. He’s eager, despite his
embarrassment. Yoongi can see the shift of his muscles, moving his hips
slightly closer, shirt hiked up around his chest. His hands are gently gripping
the sheets on the bed, nervous.
First, Yoongi had kissed him soft, testing, striking quickly while the teenager
was still bold. When Jungkook had given him that look from under his bangs.
Then, it was hot and wet, tongues meeting, Jungkook moaning into his mouth and
Yoongi pushing him back, pants down, pants off, shirt pushed all the way up
under his chin. Yoongi’s mouth on Jungkook’s nipples. Every filthy word in
every book he’s ever read rising in his head and his heart.
Then, it was down, sucking bruises into his thighs.
Now:
Yoongi leans closer, breathing hot against Jungkook’s erection. This is his
first time seeing Jungkook’s cock and he is eager to taste him. He knows he’s
not the only gay idol, he’s not the only boy in the world who wants to swallow.
Jungkook is the only one who’s show any interest in him though. Yoongi has to
own a part of that. He needs it, even if it makes him feel like he’s falling.
Even if it makes him feel like he’s bad, evil, destructive.
I hope I disappear.
“Tell hyung-nim that you like it. Tell me that it feels good JeonJungkookie.”
Please, please, please --
Tell me I’m good.
Please, please, please --
Pull my hair, fuck my face, give me that teenage feeling again.
Jungkook’s sweet voice, blossoming aegyo, “I like it hyung. Please do it. I
like you…” A beat, then, a stuttered, “You’re so cool, hyung-nim.”
It’s a sharp pang in his stomach. Gut-wrenched. Jungkook is honest and open and
not at all fucked up like Yoongi is. Yoongi looks at the red-purple bruise he’s
sucked into Jungkook’s thigh. He swallows hard. He can vaguely hear the others
in the living room. Their voices are distant, quiet and very far off. He thinks
he can hear them but it’s so far away from where they are now.
How did he get here? When did Jungkook come into his room and lay on his bed
and look at him like that with that look . That face that said I like you, I
want you, I want to try you out and see what happens.
You’re like that too, right, hyung?
The voices quiet again, dishes coming out of the cabinet, chairs scraping wood.
His mother’s voice, somewhere in the back of his head,
We don’t understand you, Yoongi-ah.
Yoongi looks back at Jungkook and smirks up at him, devilishly, and swallows
him down in one go.

*
This is not what we meant to be.
“A massage is nice. Thank you, Jungkookie,” Yoongi laughs, as Jungkook’s hands
work his shoulders, half joking, half serious. They’re sitting in the practice
room, backs against the mirror.
A PD noona is snapping photos. They’re laughing and goofing off. Jungkook
becomes tired of what he’s doing, young and easily bored, and they move,
sitting close together. Jungkook is leaning against him. Yoongi throws an arm
around the teenager.
The proximity is intoxicating and Yoongi is knowing, thinking about how close
they have been when they’re alone. Yoongi feels like he’s in on something
secret, something elevating. He’s above these people. They all covet Jungkook
and he’s got him. He has him on top of his body, his puppyish hands holding his
hips and his long teeth catching his lips.
“He’s so cute,” He says and Jungkook beams at him.
When he falls asleep the PD noona snaps a few more photos and leaves them,
gushing over how adorable Jungkookie is.
Yoongi looks down at the top of the boy’s head and he can feel his eyes filling
with warm tears. He looks so innocent, so pure and sweet, laying against him
like this. Yoongi places his hand on Jungkook's head and smiles - he doesn’t
know why. He doesn’t deserve this.
He hopes that he can reconcile this in another life.
 
*
You cannot have an opponent if you keep saying yes.
Time passes slowly, heavy, like a burden.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like me anymore, hyung?”
Yoongi feels like someone has punched him in the stomach. Of course he likes
him, but why did it have to be Jungkook? Why couldn’t it have been Hoseok? Or
Jimin? Or even Taehyung?
Yoongi can’t lie and say he hasn’t idly fantasized about Taehyung’s ethereal
beauty or the length and girth of his cock. He saw it through sweatpants once,
no underwear, and sucked his teeth at him.
Unprofessional.
And yet, Yoongi had imagined Taehyung bending him over the kitchen table for a
solid three days after that. He wanted to be split open and it made him sick
with emotions.
There was Hoseok too. Funny and loud and pliant as wet sand in your hands.
Yoongi thinks that it would be easy to be with him, to be alone with him. He
thinks that Hoseok would hate him after and that’s good. That’s what he needs.
Jimin would be the same. A pretty boy, in a plain, country sort of way. Jimin
who looks for male attention, who wants validation. Yoongi could give it to him
and then when Jimin inevitably hates him Yoongi doesn’t have to care.
That’s fantasy though, it’s not real.
Not real like Jungkook is real and close, always so close, and growing taller
by the second.
(How did he get so tall already?)
Yoongi thinks one day he’ll say no and Jungkook will do it anyway and Yoongi
will realize that’s what he’s wanted all along. To be held down and punished
like he deserves to be. If anyone had any right to it it would be Jungkook, the
boy who he took advantage of as much as possible. What a good hyung I am to let
you do this to me. What a good boy you are, Jungkookie. We're the same so it's
okay.
At first, it’s hard to say no. Yoongi learns later, much later, that it can be
easy, if you don’t care about Jungkook’s face when you say it.
“Of course I like you Jungkookie. Do you want to listen to music in my room?”
Yoongi says calmly, absolutely purring the words out to him. I want you, I want
you, I want you -
Jungkook beams. He blushes. Yoongi can already feel the boy’s cock on his
tongue, heavy, stifling his breathing. Tears forming in the corners of his
eyes.
The doctor had asked,
“Yoongi-ah, do you want to hurt yourself?”
And he had said,
“Sometimes.”
 
*
The boy is a bird, a bad bird. He falls out of trees.
“Are we fighting?” Jungkook is taller than him, broader. Yoongi can barely
stand to look at him at times, like squinting into the sun and getting a
headache.
Today, he hates him. He hates his face and his hands and his waist. He hates
the way the sweat on his stomach tastes, the way that he laughs like sunlight
streaming through leaves. The loudness of it like the summer cicadas. He wants
to push him but knows he can’t. He’s too big and he hates that too.
He hates being gay, today too. Recently, someone asked him his ideal type and
he spat out something about a girl. Something convincing, rote. Jungkook had
done it too and Yoongi felt sick hearing him say it. He wants to scream, to
throw a fit, to kick something over.
I hate you Jeon Jungkook and I stole your underwear to show you how absolutely
beneath me you are.
I hate your cock. I hate your hands. I hate the way you feel inside of me. I
want to go to church and pray for the both of us. I want to be put in jail. I
want a beheading.
End our suffering.
Finally,
“I’m not fighting with you. I’m telling you.” Yoongi doesn’t look up from his
computer as he says it.
I can’t even spare you a glance. You’re nothing to me.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. He sucks his teeth. Annoyed.
Yoongi snaps his head up to him, gaze even and a little dark. A storm’s
warning. Thunder cracking. Jungkook looks away and lifts his eyebrows. Scolded.
He knows when to keep his mouth shut.
“Okay. So… we’re done?”
I wish you’d call me a ‘faggot’. I wish you’d spit on me. I deserve it.
“Yes.”
Jungkook leaves the door open when he goes so Yoongi gets up and slams it.
Somewhere in the dorm he hears Jin yelp.
*
The enormity of my desire disgusts me.
Time passes, staggeringly.
Jungkook is sucking a bruise into Yoongi’s throat.
“Harder,” Yoongi demands. “Do it harder, Jungkookie. I wanna feel you later.”
And it’s true. Yoongi wants a reminder of how much Jungkook wants him. He wants
that neediness again. He wants this boy, this gorgeous boy who will do anything
he asks, who makes him laugh so hard and loud.
Funny, sweet, honest, earnest Jungkook. Never taking himself too seriously.
Yoongi loves his innocence, no matter how much he’s tried to rob him of it.
Jungkook still knows how to make him light up like it’s the Lunar new year.
Drunk, on Naver, searching does good cock treat depression?
Jungkook’s teeth nipping along his jaw, down to his collar bone. Yoongi’s eyes
fluttering, heat pooling in his stomach as he runs a hand through Jungkook’s
hair.
“Leave a mark,” Yoongi says, breathless with want.
“Okay,” Jungkook’s voice is honey, dripping gold and sweet.
Yoongi thinks about smirking, cat-like, up at the make-up artist when she gives
that frustrated sound that comes only with having to hide an idol’s double
life. He wants to gloat because every woman wants Jungkook.
Yoongi wants to suck his teeth and tilt his lips up as he says it,
“Jungkook comes in me. In my ass, in my throat. Are you jealous?”
Yoongi has difficulty, at times, reconciling his feelings. Jungkook is his,
sometimes, but then Jungkook is also everyone’s all at once. Always.
Jungkook moans against him, his body is hard and heavy. He’s so wide on top of
him, shadowing Yoongi’s slight, pale frame. Jungkook’s dark hands are under his
thighs, deftly lifting his hips, crushing their cocks together through layers
of cloth.
God, he’s gotten so good at this, Yoongi thinks and blushes. He pushes the
thought away, hides it somewhere for no one to see with the rest of them.
Earlier that day, after filming their live performance, Yoongi had reached
behind himself, Jungkook’s heavy body leaning innocently against him, and
pressed his palm against his cock in his trousers. Jungkook had let out a puff
of air, like he was punched, and then his hips had jerked forward. Wanting.
Yoongi didn’t even blink.
Is this what his doctor called ‘manic behavior’?
Jungkook pulls away from his neck with a wet smack, eyes half lidded, bunny
teeth showing under his swollen lips.
“I didn’t tell you to stop, come on,” Yoongi digs a heel into Jungkook’s back,
slides a hand around the nape of his neck, pulling, demanding as the day he was
born. Yoongi has always been a want, want, want person.
Give, give it to me. 
“I just wanted to look at you, hyung.”
Sometimes, secretly, Jungkook is a romantic.
Yoongi blushes and makes a rude sound, upper lip curving up into that trademark
pout. “Yah, you’re just trying to figure out a smooth way to get me undressed.”
Jungkook’s smile is blindingly cute and Yoongi almost makes him leave. It’s
almost too overwhelming, like he’s drowning in something he cannot explain. He
wants to scream and he wants to cry all at once. Who said Jeon Jungkook could
have this effect on people? Who gave him the right?
Jungkook is on him again though, lips and teeth against his throat. He has all
the finesse of an eager teenager and Yoongi feels so young with him.
“It feels so good, hyung,” the boy whines against his skin, tongue laving over
the red mark he’s left behind. His satoori accent is slipping out - common for
him when he's excited and rutting against Yoongi like this - and Yoongi’s skin
lights up electric.
Yoongi images him biting down so hard he breaks the skin and his blood is like
rubies falling from Jungkook’s mouth. The simile is overly generous - Yoongi
doesn’t feel like he’s worth half as much as Jungkook is. The group’s beloved
boy.
Our Jungkookie.
When Jungkook pulls back again - eyes focused on the zipper of his own pants,
undoing the fly, pulling himself out, getting ready - the light is like a halo
around Jungkook’s hair.
Golden.
 
*
l. Hold onto your voice.
It’s only a matter of time before someone catches them.
Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s happy or sad that it’s Namjoon.
Namjoon is a good leader and a nice kid. He likes him, even if he’s a little
cocky. It’s not any worse than Jungkook’s cockiness if he’s honest about it.
Maybe he’s just competitive with Namjoon. Either way, they do have a mutual
respect for one another. Although, presently,Yoongi is feeling it dissolve
somewhere in the tenseness of the situation.
He’s looking everywhere at once, eyes pointedly avoiding Yoongi’s.
Yoongi can only imagine what he thinks. Hip hop is dead or something.
Jungkook is panicked. He’s on the verge of tears. So sensitive, always so
sensitive. Only a moment ago Jungkook was giggling, doing some kind of bit, a
funny voice. Now, Yoongi can feel him shaking where his hand is holding his
bicep. They weren’t doing anything too bad, just making out, rutting, heavy
petting. It could have been way worse. Yoongi’s cheeks are flushed from
arousal, embarrassment, excitement. Those fangirls write fanfiction about this
kind of thing don’t they?
Namjoonie, come join us...
Yoongi cannot help himself, Namjoon may be leader but Yoongi is older. He can
do whatever he wants with whoever he wants. His gaze is challenging and
serious, eyes dark and small, heavy lidded with lust.
He smirks,
Fucking do something, Namjoon.
(Later, Yoongi wonders why he did that, why he acted like he was invincible
when Jungkook isn't. Another mistake. Another regret.)
“We can talk about it later,” Namjoon says and he turns and leaves, shutting
the door behind himself a little softer than Yoongi expected.
The air in the room is still for a minute and then, Jungkook loses it.
“He’s mad. He’s so mad. He’s going to tell Bang-sshi.” Jungkook’s body is all
nervous energy, an absolute mess. He’s crying in no time (sensitive, sensitive,
so raw and helpless at times) and Yoongi grabs his face, blotchy and red
between his pale hands.
“He’s not going to do anything that hurts this group,” Yoongi says seriously,
firmly. “We have to take care of each other. No one else is going to do it.
Namjoon won’t hurt us. We need each other.”
Yoongi wonders if he needs Jungkook more than Jungkook needs him.
Jungkook nods, tears still warm on his face. He hiccups and sniffs, trying to
calm down.
Yoongi can’t predict the future but he knows they’ve all worked too hard to let
anything bring them down. The group is too important to cause a scandal.
Namjoon wouldn't. They all care about each other.
And later, in the studio, he and Namjoon don’t discuss it past,
“Keep it to the dorms, okay?”
“Okay.”
But Yoongi knows what that means,
“Act straight, okay?”
“Okay.”
Later, much later, Yoongi knows he will thank Namjoon --
“Without you I wouldn’t have met him.”
 
*
ll. Hold onto your breath.
Next time, it’s Jimin, and it’s much less intimidating but definitely much
worse.
They’re in the bathroom and Yoongi is on his knees, Jungkook’s cock all the way
down his throat. Kookie’s hand is on the back of his head too, fingers curled
in mint hair as he leans against the sink.
The door opens suddenly and Jimin is there, and Yoongi doesn’t even pull off
before it’s all satoori and cursing.
And they must have been a sight - Jungkook's mouth open, looking down, thighs
clenched as Yoongi swallowed him to the back of his throat. He knows what
Jungkook likes best during a blow job. It was what they did their first time
together and Yoongi has all the mental notes. He likes to drag it out, make it
feel like sex - especially when they can’t have sex.
Jimin must be jealous too, he thinks. Yoongi knows he wants Jungkook too. After
Jimin leaves, flustered and red, he smirks at Jungkook, who is a blushing mess.
“It's okay, Baby,” Yoongi reassures him, an uncommon pet name. He rarely uses
it. “Lets finish.”
After that Hoseok knows in what Yoongi thinks must be a record time for gossip
to spread.
Hoseok comes into his room without knocking, hands on his hips.
“He's sensitive. He's a sensitive boy. So, will you just be nice to him,
please?” Hoseok is all maternal instinct, sucking his teeth and leaving before
Yoongi answers.
The guilt rises up in him again and he wonders how Hoseok would react if he
knew what Yoongi did to Jungkook when he was sixteen and if he would hurt him.
If he would hit him.
Everyone says Hoseok is the scariest when he’s angry.
Maybe he’ll kill me.
 
*
Do you love yourself? I don’t have to answer that. It should matter.
Yoongi cannot help himself, his moods swing like a pendulum. His heart wants
and wants and wants until it’s too full to bursting. Then, he’s all acid. Maybe
he thinks it will make some kind of difference in his work if he punishes
himself as much as possible.
Don’t give yourself so much credit. You’re not tortured. You’re spoiled.
Maybe he genuinely believes that he doesn’t deserve Jungkook.
One day,
“Don’t come into my bed.” He bites out the words and Jungkook slinks away with
his tail between his legs. No questions asked.
Another day,
“Get out of here, I don’t need you in my studio. Why are you always hanging
around? You’re so annoying.”
Jungkook is gone again and again without a word. He’s learned a lesson from
Yoongi’s attitude over time. He knows when he’s not wanted. Except he doesn’t
know that Yoongi always wants him and that’s why he shoves him away. Yoongi
thinks he’s so sick. Yoongi thinks one day he won’t come back.
A boy crying wolf as he’s devoured.
One night,
Yoongi passes by Hoseok and Jimin’s bedroom and he sees him on Jimin’s bed.
They’re giggling, lying close together. Yoongi stops and looks and Jimin’s eyes
meet his, challenging. Yoongi’s heart aches in his chest but he leaves anyway.
A text written to Jimin soon after, angrily,
You can have him. I don’t give a shit.
His doctor always told him to stop saying he didn’t give a shit, he didn’t give
a fuck.
Stop hiding behind words.
Of course, a week later when he calls for Jungkook he comes. He follows behind
like a puppy, always eager.
They’re pressed up against a wall in the hallway, heading toward Yoongi and
Jin’s bedroom - unoccupied for the moment - and Jungkook is kissing his throat,
lifting him up easily. They’re panting against each other, like teenagers -
give me that teenage feeling again. He’s so strong now, Yoongi feels like
Jungkook's going to break him and he wishes he would. Yoongi grasps his biceps,
feeling the raw power there.
He wants to be destroyed by this.
“Why do you do that? Be mean to me sometimes?”
The question is so innocent and earnest Yoongi can hardly stand it but --
Jongkook’s voice is dark with lust and he has him on the bed, pushing his
thighs apart, a hand sliding up his stomach, fitting against the spaces between
his ribs; a thumb against his nipple. Yoongi feels his eyes roll back in his
head, and he arches off the bed, craving Jungkook’s touch, his lips, his
everything. That fruity perfume he wears --
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Yoongi says, not wanting to admit.
I took away your innocence to be selfish and needy. I took you away for myself.
I needed you. I still do.
Jungkook laughs from deep in his throat, nuzzling Yoongi’s neck with his big
nose, kissing his pulse point, making promises.
Don’t hide behind those words --
But,Yoongi thinks,
Words are all I have.
*
I said kiss me here and here and here and you did.
Yoongi touches Jungkook’s shoulder, prompting the boy to take his headphones
off his head. He’s gaming and it’s annoying and most of the time he’s loud. He
and Taehyung get together and act every bit the maknae line when they game.
Except now.
Yoongi smiles at him. He looks cute like this, expectantly waiting to hear
whatever leaves Yoongi’s mouth. He’s always paying such good attention when he
speaks. He doesn’t do that with anyone else… not really. Yoongi’s heart swells
at the thought before he continues.
“Let’s go eat. Hyung will treat you to lamb skewers,” Yoongi says but Jungkook
was standing before he even finished the sentence. He is beaming, standing tall
and looking down at Yoongi just slightly. This kid who was smaller than him
once. Yoongi gives him a smile and goes toward the door. Jungkook gets his
coat. 
-
They go out to eat frequently but it’s a ruse, a code.
Yoongi does take him out - they do eat, of course - but in the end it’s just a
way to be completely alone. They enjoy each other’s company, talking about
whatever they can think to say to each other, whatever they don’t want the
other members to hear.
Jungkook uses a voice that no one else ever hears when they talk. Yoongi has
never made him act formally with him - a testament to their relationship.
Yoongi has always treated him older than he is. Jungkook does though,
sometimes. It’s more special when he does.
Yoongi spoon feeds him rice and meat. Watching him chew and smile. He's a happy
kid, despite it all, and he makes Yoongi happy. Jungkook always wears his heart
on his sleeve like this.
It always ends the same way though:
Yoongi drives them to Zhou Mi’s house in Seoul. He is almost always in China
and his home is empty. Yoongi has the door code and he asked him for
permission.
I need somewhere to bring someone back…
Ah, you have that kind of relationship. Please make sure she won’t steal my
things, Yoongi-ah.
Of course, Hyung.
Lately the dorm has felt stifling, too crowded. It happens often and when it
does Yoongi is glad to know he and Jungkook have somewhere they can go. Lamb
Skewers is almost always code for Let’s go to Zhou Mi hyung’s house and fuck.
Typically, the apartment is only for sex - the dorm is for blow jobs and
rutting, almost never penetration anymore. Yoongi likes going through the
motions with Jungkook though, touching each other and making it feel special.
Jungkook is tender and eager, the best qualities in a lover, in Yoongi’s
opinion.
They can go slow here, full of food and each other. Happily existing together.
Totally in sync with one another. Yoongi loves beats, keeping time, and
Jungkook knows just how to do it. He knows when to go slow and when to speed
up, knows when Yoongi wants slow and shallow or hard and fast. Yoongi’s heart
is a drum in his chest.
Yoongi has done it more than a dozen times now but he still gasps when
Jungkook’s cock slips inside him, still whines when he thrusts and moans his
name like it’s brand new. He still turns red when Jungkook buries his face in
the crook of his neck, lips kissing and tongue licking and nose nuzzling.
Yoongi lets him manhandle him too, push him around a little in the bed. He
likes knowing that he’s handing control over to Jungkook completely sometimes.
It makes him feel less lewd, more equal.
Yoongi feels full of Jungkook even when they’re not fucking. Sometimes, when
they look at each other he feels that heavy feeling in his chest, in his heart.
He’s weak for this boy, this teenager who still can’t drink for another year
but knows how to lift him by his hips and fuck him how he likes.
Yoongi praises him, sucks on the metal in his ears, pushes Jungkook’s hair off
his forehead, touches his neck at the pulse.
“Come in me,” he says and it’s a plea and it's a command and Jungkook follows
orders, panting and trembling the whole time. He says his name like a mantra
when he does - Yoongi-ah, Yoongi-ah,Yoongi-ah - and Yoongi thinks he can't
stand it, Jungkook leaving himself behind, inside him, like this.
“Yoongi-ah…” he pants and smiles down at him, shallow thrusts, hips languidly
moving, taking care to give him absolutely everything.
Yoongi, looking up at him, hair stark contrast to the white pillows. His pale
hands on Jungkook’s dark biceps. Sunshine kissed golden skin.
A whisper,
“You listen so well, baby.”
Yoongi’s heart overflows. Cymbals crashing.
He’s going to do so well in the military one day.
*
O how he loves you darling boy.
“Why didn't you ever tell me about that stuff in your mixtape?” Jungkook is
reverencial in his whispers. They’re lying together, touching, kissing. It's
soft, softer than usual. Yoongi feels weightless, like the only thing tethering
him to this earth is Jungkook. Jungkook’s arms, strong muscles and veins.
And Yoongi knows that Jungkook has been thinking about asking him all day, all
night. He finally plucked up the courage.
“It made me cry, hyung… it was so intense.” Formal language, the special
treatment. Jungkook moves a strand of Yoongi’s hair away from his face. He’s
blonde again, dark circles under his eyes. Filming always takes it out of him -
especially when they do so much at once. All he could think about was Jungkook
- I like you blonde, hyung.
“Is it good?” Yoongi asks and for once he wants nothing more than for Jungkook
to praise him. He thinks that Jungkook’s opinion matters more than anyone
else's. Yoongi can’t think of anyone else he would want to impress more than
Jungkook. He's beautiful and honest and always has been. He makes him laugh and
Yoongi feels as though he's enveloped in him. Like they match up no matter
what.
Jungkook nods. “It’s really good.”
You’re really good.
Yoongi looks up and smiles, humming appreciation. He doesn’t know what to say
but he’s glad that Jungkook likes it. That he likes him.
He turns on his side, looking into Jungkook’s big, brown eyes. He can feel
Jungkook’s skin prickling, anticipating. Yoongi is always restless with him,
needing him. He laces their fingers together.
They look at each other for a long time and say nothing.
Yoongi kisses him first.
You have all my words now. Do with them what you will.
*
tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.
Time passes too quickly, too much, to many years gone, and already you’re --
It’s graduation day and Yoongi is standing in an elevator behind Jungkook, who
is radiant. He watches the back of his head, the movement in his neck as he
turns to speak to someone. The double helix piercing in his ear is glittering
in the lights. He’s so grown up.
Yoongi chews his bottom lip and feels like his heart is raw and exposed, needy
and ready. Jungkook’s smile sets something alight in him that Yoongi has never
been able to extinguish, no matter how much he has tried.
A hand on his back, feeling the warmth there, radiant golden light spilling out
of every inch of him.
Later, his yellow school jacket is on the floor and Yoongi is on him, riding
him slowly.
“Time has been better to you than me,” he says as Jungkook’s hands find his
hips, plumper than when they first did this. “You grew up well.”
Yoongi feels guilty, even as he says it. He feels like he’s tainted this boy,
this beautiful boy who never asked him to kiss him, who never said he wanted to
be with him, not really. But he was there, and when Yoongi kissed him he kissed
back. When Yoongi undressed him he helped. Whenever Yoongi said ‘let me’
Jungkook let him.
He was always following him around, showing up when he wanted him, when he
didn't want him.
Suga is the kind of person I could follow.
“Thank you, Yoongi-ah,” he murmurs, focused and sweaty. Yoongi likes him like
this, focused on him. It’s selfish. He’s selfish but he knew that about himself
a long time ago. It’s been so many years of selfishness.
Yoongi runs his thumb along Jungkook’s lower lip. He is restless, intoxicated
on the heady scent of sex and sweat. His heart is full to bursting again.
Tomorrow, they can’t anymore. Yoongi has already decided to break it off again.
Some things never change. Yoongi is tired of cycles though and worries for the
end. It’s been too many years.
Even if I leave, you’ll do well on your own.
Yoongi leans forward, pushing Jungkook’s hair off his forehead, kissing him,
“Don’t hold back, okay?”
That smile, his teeth, his eyes, the way his nose scrunches up when he is so
happy he cannot contain himself.
Yoongi hates this part.
“I never do.”
*
your breath on my neck like a music that holds my hands down, kisses as they
burn their way along my spine —
It’s Yoongi’s twenty-fourth birthday and Jungkook is standing in front of him.
The room is dark, the light is falling in pools on the floor. Jungkook is tall
and his hips are narrow and his chest is broad. His arms are strong and dark
and Yoongi’s fingertips itch to wrap around them again.
Yoongi feels slight and needy. He misses this boy’s arms, his legs, the way his
fingers set sparks along his spine.
“I saw your video.”
“Did you like it? Hyung-nim?”
That smile lights up the dark.
Jungkook takes a step forward and his shadow eclipses Yoongi’s entire body, his
body eclipses Yoongi’s life, his everything. Jungkook had said he was perfect.
He wants to run. He wants to say something, anything but --
The words catch in his throat and he thinks about how he never has fumbled for
them. Not since he was young. Not since, not since…
Laying together, fingers intertwined,
It’s really good.
And Yoongi didn’t have anything else to say to that. It was all there, on
Jungkook’s ipod - ready to be heard again and again. Yoongi wearing his heart
on his sleeve.
Yoongi wants to say,
Give me the full body treatment.
But instead says nothing.
Finally, Jungkook’s fingers touch his hip, testing, and their eyes meet and
it’s the knowing. The feeling. The needing.
“Okay,” Yoongi says and Jungkook smiles again,
Bright, staggeringly beautiful.
“Okay,” Jungkook replies and they fall into each other again. It’s the point of
no return - event horizon - and Yoongi is slipping further into Jungkook’s
orbit. No one like him exists. A true singularity.
He is sucking a bruise onto Jungkook’s neck, golden skin filled with red.
Marking the perfect, golden child up with intent. They’ve always been leaving
marks on one another. Maybe they’ve always belonged to one another.
How long will this last? Yoongi cannot say, but --
 “I love you,” falls from his mouth before he can stop himself, slipping a hand
around Jungkook’s neck, pulling him closer, mouthing against his jaw, his
adam's apple. He doesn’t have time to regret it, he occupies himself with a
hand on the front of Jungkook’s jeans.
Jungkook’s skin is a memory, a reminder. Every touch, every up, every down.
Yoongi remembers every time he said no, every time he said yes. He remembers
every time Jungkook touched him, surprised him with tenderness. Reminded him
that someone cared about him, that he forgave him for everything.
Their movements are automatic, sense memory. They’ve known each other for too
long now, too eagerly, too emotionally. Jungkook wants him, wants all of him,
decided to have him through it all, no matter the consequences. Jungkook has
never stopped loving him even when Yoongi acted like he had.
Make me begin --
Greet me happily then --
It’s been so long since Yoongi fell he wonders if he remembers how.
He says it again, again, again.
Yoongi’s fingers circle his wrist, holding his heart, holding on for dear life,
Did you change or did I change?
Jungkook smiles, eyes shining.
“Me too.”
It’s Yoongi’s favorite song.
End Notes
     can you even believe that if you google 'Suga BTS friends' the only
     result is Zhou Mi from Super Junior M and Suga legitimately has the
     code to his home in Seoul.
     also, this is only lightly beta'd. please excuse my bad spelling,
     writing ect.
     all of my 'headers' for each part are from the richard siken bot on
     twitter lol
     you can harass me on twitter @yoonjisgal
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