Chapter Text
They sit there for a long time, just rocking backwards and forwards, Jungkook sobbing into Yoongi’s shoulder, Yoongi stroking Jungkook’s hair, whispering into it.
He won’t rush him. Jungkook needs this. He’s been under so much stress, so much pressure, that this isn’t even going to be the end of it, and Yoongi knows that. Tomorrow, they’ll have to fix it. Tomorrow, there will be discussions and rebukes and gentle reminders for Jungkook that he is not alone, not now, not ever, and his hyungs love him too much to let him drown alone like this again.
But that’s tomorrow.
---
Tonight, Yoongi will leave all of that alone. Jungkook doesn’t need a pep talk, he doesn’t even need a plan to get through the rest of debut preparations or the hell that’s debut itself. He just needs space from all of that.
Yoongi will be that for him.
Jungkook’s tears are slowing, a hiccuping sound that tells Yoongi that they’re coming to the end.
Yoongi makes his decision.
“Come on,” he says, one hand on the wall. “Up we go.” A not insignificant weight rests on his shoulders because Jungkook refuses to let go but Yoongi is used to it.
---
Jungkook lets Yoongi take his keys out of his pocket, hanging them back on the hook; he puts Jimin’s right next to them. Their building is so old, they still have actual physical keys. He scoops up Jungkook’s hat, his hoodie, kicks his shoes back under the shoe rack. Hobi might have a fit about not being tidy but that’s something Yoongi is prepared to risk.
Jungkook looks at the closed door, and he turns away.
He doesn’t want to leave. Not now.
Yoongi holds Jungkook’s hand. “I’ve got you,” he says, again, firmly and he feels Jungkook’s grip tighten.
---
“What now?” Jungkook is swaying, the days of no sleep, no food, and too much work catching up to him. His words are slurred, falling out of his mouth like he forgot how to speak. Every lesson on their interview technique, elocution, the management’s decision to focus on losing the satoori has gone out the window, and Yoongi smiles.
“Bed.” He says simply.
“I - I’m -” Jungkook is probably going to say something like he’s not tired or that he needs to do something else but Yoongi holds his chin, gently.
“Tomorrow will come.” He strokes Jungkook’s cheek with his thumb.
---
Jungkook nods and his eyes shine a little brighter - he’s exhausted; the mere thought of tomorrow is enough to push him over the edge, bringing his tears back.
“Let’s go to the bedroom, okay?” He presses his forehead against Jungkook’s gently, knowing that they both need the small physical reassurance. “You and me.”
“They’ll n-notice…”
“I’ll talk.” They knew he was going to speak to Jungkook. “We’ll just go straight through, Kook.” Judging by the lack of interruptions, part of him wonders if Jin and Namjoon have sat on Jimin and Taehyung to keep them out, but he’s grateful nevertheless.
---
“They’ll -”
“We don’t have to tell them anything tonight,” he says, gently. “Hyung has you, okay? I’ll take care of you.”
“I’m sorry.” Jungkook is distraught again, for a different reason, and Yoongi can see the guilt in Jungkook’s eyes even as he wells up in tears again. He always thinks of his feelings as his own burden.
“I know.” Yoongi takes Jungkook’s hand. He doesn’t say anything else as he pulls Jungkook away from the front door. The rest of the apartment is warmer, and he’s grateful for it. Jungkook doesn’t need a cold on top of everything else.
---
He slides open the kitchen door, and braces himself for the flurry of questions. The others don’t disappoint.
“You want -” Jin half stands, obviously completely thrown to see a red eyed, still crying Jungkook. “Jungkook - are you okay?”
“What happened?” Jimin throws down his napkin, half standing before Hobi puts a hand on his shoulder, pushes him down again. His other hand is on Taehyung’s arm, doing the same thing there. Not quite sitting on them, then, but close.
“Yoongi-hyung, is… everything alright?” His voice is very calm, almost soothing, but Namjoon’s face is clearly worried. He didn’t expect this.
---
Yoongi hadn’t quite figured this part out in his grand plan - he hadn’t really anticipated Jungkook falling apart completely in the hall, and while it doesn't change anything, it does… complicate matters a little more than he expected. Not even Hobi, twice wronged today, wants to see Jungkook in tears like this.
“We had a talk.” He chooses his words carefully, knowing that the youngest two are out of the loop on just how bad Jungkook’s state has become.
“Is he okay?” Taehyung asks.
“Obviously not!” Jimin’s exasperated and Yoongi watches as Hobi squeezes tight on Jimin’s shoulder. “He’s upset!”
---
“Jimin-ah…” Hobi starts massaging Jimin’s shoulder, instinctively trying to soothe him down.
“But look at him, Hoseok-hyung! He’s crying - that’s not normal!”
“It’s fine, it’s-” Hoseok tries to soothe Jimin down but he’s not having it.
“Something happened and Jungkookie isn’t okay!” Jimin’s heart is big. Seeing Jungkook’s upset has made him upset, and he looks like he might actually start to cry.
Yoongi sighs. He didn’t predict having two upset dongsaengs tonight, two people to put back to rights again.
But Hobi steps in, wraps his arms around Jimin. “It’s okay,” he says, softly. “Yoongi-hyung’s going to fix it.”
---
“It’s fine,” Yoongi says, even though it clearly isn’t fine, even though this clearly isn’t normal for them. “I’ve got him, Jiminie. It’s… it’ll be okay.”
“Will it?” Jimin isn’t intentionally being mean, he’s just upset and worried. “Doesn’t look fine to me.”
“Don’t be bold, Jiminie…” Hobi isn’t going to let that fly. Respect is king in his eyes, and he tightens his grip on Jimin’s shoulders.
“Sorry, hyung.”
Behind him, Yoongi feels Jungkook crowd closer, a silent plea to leave, to get away from the stress of everybody looking at him. His grip on Yoongi’s hand is tightening.
---
“It’s okay.” Yoongi hopes that Jimin will read between the lines.
“Do you need anything, hyung?” Joon asks.
“Don’t… don’t come in for a while, okay?”
“In?”
“The bedroom. We need… space.”
Namjoon’s gaze is sharp, almost piercingly so behind his glasses. He nods slowly, knowing what Yoongi’s saying, even if the youngest two haven’t cottoned on yet. It’s almost time for the nightly regime to begin - trading off time in the bathroom to shower, brush their teeth, do their new skincare routines (management’s orders) - and for him to kick everybody out of the bedroom unilaterally is a big ask.
---
But when Taehyung goes to say something - to agree, to object, Yoongi doesn’t know - Namjoon shakes his head, shushes Taehyung. “No, it’s fine. Go ahead, hyung.”
“As long as you need.” Jin says, softly, and Hobi nods.
He doesn’t say anything else, but he can feel all of them looking at him as he guides Jungkook through the kitchen, into the corridor to the bedroom. He can already imagine the whispered conversations - maybe guessing what he’ll do, or commenting on why their youngest member looks absolutely wrecked, but that’s not for him to deal with now.
His focus is Jungkook.
---
He isn’t fighting Yoongi.
Honestly, he didn’t expect it - he’s always said that Jungkook is a good boy and even when he’s upside down, tired, distressed, and hurting, he’s good. This time, there is no resistance as Yoongi takes his hand, leads him down the hall.
The utter silence behind them is echoing in Yoongi’s ears; he knows that tomorrow morning, there will be a discussion and it’ll be probably slightly (very) uncomfortable.
But that’s tomorrow, and this is now, and Yoongi’s learned all too well not to borrow pain and suffering from the future when he doesn’t have to.
---
Yoongi pulls the bedroom door closed almost all the way. He usually leaves it quite open while nursing, an invitation to the others that he and Jungkook are not totally sealed off from the rest of the world, but not tonight. He flicks on the lamp in the corner, casting warm, yellow light to dispel the dark of the room. It’s messy; cluttered as always, and Jungkook has to step over the shoes, piles of laundry, and the occasional stuffed toy (Taehyung leaves them everywhere ), but it’s their sanctuary now.
“Come here.” He says, and Jungkook willingly comes to him.
---
Undressing Jungkook isn’t something Yoongi’s done very often - mostly a handful of times when Jungkook has been sick - but there is a marked level of trust that hasn’t been there before. Jungkook stands there, placid, as Yoongi lifts his hoodie over his head, his hair falling over his eyes as he reappears through the neck. This time, it’s not just out of necessity that Yoongi is doing this.
But then again, this is what he does. He’s always taken care of Jungkook, even before they started nursing. He cradles Jungkook’s cheek, so aware of how exhausted his littlest dongsaeng is.
---
He presses his face into Yoongi’s hand, every inch of him seeking reassurance and relief.
Yoongi will grant him it.
He puts Jungkook in one of his own t-shirts, (black, of course), a pair of Namjoon’s shorts, holds them out for him to step into. Jungkook doesn’t object, just holds on and steps into them carefully.
He’s too far gone for that.
Yoongi leads Jungkook forward, leaving the clothes abandoned on the floor. Someone else will pick them up later - Hobi, probably, or Jin, if he’s feeling particularly neat - but it’s more important to keep Jungkook moving towards the bed.
---
Jungkook curls up small, nestles deep into the corner, his back against the wall. When Yoongi doesn’t join him immediately, he looks confused, a little thrown, one hand reaching out, but Yoongi soothes him with a gentle hand in his hair. He climbs the ladder to his own bunk, switches his own alarm clock off, and collects what he needs: both of his pillows.
Jungkook never liked them much but Yoongi suspects he’ll end up sleeping in Jungkook’s bed tonight, so he’s bringing his own.
As he climbs down the ladder, he looks over at Jungkook, his bright-dark eyes wide.
---
Jungkook makes space for him, lifts up the duvet so obligingly so Yoongi can slide underneath, in the unusual coldness of the room. The bed smells like laundry detergent.
It’s not the first time they’ve shared a bed, and Jungkook immediately tangles their legs together, snuggling close as though he’s been completely touch deprived for weeks. Although, now that Yoongi thinks about it, he has.
So much has been happening, and the usual hugs, massages, the gentle touches… they’ve not stopped but they’ve been significantly reduced. And Jungkook thrives on the physical connection, loves it, seeks it out wherever possible.
---
Yoongi’s heart breaks a little more at the thought of Jungkook missing out on something so very important. He resolves to fix that but now, Jungkook wants something else.
He slides his shirt up, strips it off completely. Underneath his t-shirt, the tank top hides nothing as he feels Jungkook’s gaze. As he lifts the tank up, exposes his nipple to the cool air in the room, Jungkook reaches for him. So eager, but Yoongi can guess why. He’s over full, the swell of milk pulling his skin taut, the veins blue and green under the surface.
He latches immediately.
---
The moment the first drop of sweet, rich milk touches Jungkook’s tongue is a relief for them both. The sweet feeling of the let down of his milk never fails to make Yoongi sigh, and Jungkook melts into Yoongi’s side, his eyes closing as he nurses.
He’s desperate.
That much is clear to Yoongi. He expected it, predicted it, even - it was a part of his plan. He usually feeds Jungkook about eight o’clock, between the last classes of the day, using their half hour break in their studio room to get him through the last dance session.
Not today.
---
He’d made an excuse, hugged Jungkook tight, but didn’t follow him into the studio, carried on talking with Namjoon and Hobi. Jungkook hadn’t liked it, hadn’t liked being told no, but Yoongi had held firm against the pouting mouth, the unsubtle tugging on his collar, whispered soothing words as a poor replacement instead.
He’d put hands on Yoongi’s hoodie, crowded close to him, whispered in his ear now, hyungie? Please? But Yoongi had shushed him softly, let him cling to his shoulders.
If he had explained it, Jungkook would have resisted, said he didn’t need it, said he was fine.
---
But going without then meant he can feed Jungkook now, he has the milk to do it. It hadn’t been comfortable - routine is hard to break, after all, and his body knew that eight thirty was the sweet spot feeding time - but he’d weathered it anyway.
Within a few mouthfuls, the effect is clear. Jungkook sighs as the milk settles him, the sweet endorphins starting to course in his veins. Yoongi has never stopped being amazed at how much change just a little milk can bring about. His weight rests heavy on Yoongi’s body, boneless, pinning him to the mattress.
---
“I’ve got you,” Yoongi says softly, trying to reassure him. He combs his fingers through dark hair, strokes down his cheek to the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, down to the full pout of his lower lip. He can feel the rhythm of the suckling, the steady sounds so familiar now. He loves this - this moment that’s all his, where Jungkook just stops. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.
Jungkook fights so hard but he doesn’t need to.
Yoongi stares down at him, at closed eyes and fluttering eyelashes, no longer hard and tense, but soft and sweet.
---
He cradles the back of his head, stroking his thumb gently down Jungkook’s neck.
Outside, he hears the sounds of the others getting ready for tomorrow - the shower starts running, the toilet flushes, the sound of chopping vegetables from the kitchen as Jin preps the next few days' breakfasts ahead of time.
They have another full week ahead of them. It’s photos time - something for the album, Bang PD said, a very important something. Yoongi suspects it might be the album photobook. That means outfit changes, hair, make up, a lot of pressure.
He does not look forward to it.
---
Shadows move across the light in the doorway, sounds drifting through the opening as the others wind down for bed, hang up wet laundry, sort the mess of shoes in the hall. He hears Hobi complaining about untidiness and Jiminie, you need to practise putting your trainers away! Yoongi smiles. This is normal for them - it’s unconventional, but he’s become used to it. They make it work, pulling together to keep their apartment theirs.
It’s a home.
Jungkook slows more, drifting on the edge of sleep already, but Yoongi touches his cheek, wakes him up just enough to keep going.
---
The heater clicks on with a loud clunk, the noise of the water in the pipes out of place in the quietness of the room. Jungkook stirs at the sound, lifting his head away from Yoongi’s chest. “What - ‘yung?”
Yoongi guides him back down, over to the other nipple without a word, shushing the half murmured objection away. He’s noticed that - Jungkook is so easily distracted when he’s stressed, unable to stop himself from responding if something disturbs the moment. But he’s easy to settle, too - there’s only a second of minor reluctance before he relatches, mouth wide, lips soft.
---
Jungkook twists under the blanket, wanting to press closer but there’s no way to be closer, there’s not a single centimeter between them, and Yoongi strokes his cheek, encouraging him to settle, to go back to nursing and the milk that he needs.
Jungkook sighs; Yoongi soothes him again, whispers, “I have you,” to him, so softly, as Jungkook nestles down, eyelashes fluttering closed as he relaxes again.
He pulls the blankets up to Jungkook’s shoulders, covering him more, sealing in the warmth. Jungkook says nothing, but he slides his hand further under Yoongi’s shirt to coax the milk out.
---
As Jungkook nurses, a shadow appears in the doorway; this time, it doesn’t disappear. Instead, the door slides open once more, and Jin leans through.
His gaze in the dim light is worried. He’s trying to hide it, but Yoongi can see the fear that Yoongi wouldn’t be enough - that Jungkook would still be fighting him in here - slowly disappearing as he takes in the scene. They’re so rarely interrupted but Jungkook is so far gone he doesn’t even notice the intrusion. As he planned, It’s serene in here.
Yoongi’s casting his magic, restoring Jungkook to rights, and it’s working .
---
Jin observes from afar, a statue in the half light, the noise from the living room loud until he makes a decision, steps into the room fully, slides the door closed behind him.
A hand slips around Yoongi’s wrist, fingers pressing into his pulse point. Jungkook likes to do that - he has a thing about it, and Yoongi had learnt that it’s a comfort mechanism for him. It’s not uncommon for him to find Jungkook asleep next to him on the bus, on a plane, wherever, having grabbed onto his wrist in a fit of sleepy neediness.
He doesn’t mind.
---
This is what he was aiming for, he thinks, as he looks down at Jungkook, the mess of black hair on his head his mouth half open as he rests on Yoongi’s chest, a drop of milk on his lip. He looks so very vulnerable tonight.
Jin sits on the end of Jungkook’s bed, lays a gentle hand on Yoongi’s ankle over the covers. It’s not pushy, it’s not demanding. It just is.
Jin understands Yoongi. He understands the worry Yoongi has, the pressure that they’re under, how hard they work to shield the youngest ones from the relentless grind.
---
It’s the price they pay for being the oldest, Yoongi supposes, even if sometimes, it’s too much and too difficult.
He and Jin seem to spend half their lives soothing down upsets, navigating the turbulent seas of hormonal teenagers, being crammed into a too small apartment, relentless pressure being vented at home because they have to be professional at work, and half of them are too young to really understand what that means. They end up mediating more tears and fights, more stupid little spats that they ever thought possible.
They make it work though, bring everybody back together again.
---
In his arms, Jungkook stirs, his hand pushing down to get more milk.
Jin looks a little uncomfortable, his ears turning red in the half light but he doesn’t leave. He stays, rubbing his fingers on Yoongi’s ankle. He’s never made it a rule to be left alone with Jungkook, never forced any of them out of the room, but nobody’s ever interrupted them.
Jin is the first who’s willingly slid into the bubble of calm that Yoongi puts around them both, everybody else lurking around the edges until they’re finished nursing .
He wonders if that might change after this.
---
He brushes the hair out of Jungkook’s eyes, feels the sharp pinprick of the thorn-like piercing. He sighs as Jungkook nestles even closer. He’s gotten used to the fact that Jungkook is a cuddler in his sleep, used to dealing with the weight of a growing maknae pinning him down. It’s familiar to him now, after so long.
Jin reluctantly gets up after a few minutes, whispering something about lunch prep in the kitchen. He strokes Jungkook’s hair, curving under his ear. He almost - almost but not quite - does the same to Yoongi.
“Look after him, okay?” He whispers softly.
---
Yoongi holds his gaze as he nods, knows that Jin’s not just speaking about this, about tonight. They understand each other all too well.
And then Jin does something that Yoongi… doesn’t expect.
He lifts the blanket, tucks it tighter around Yoongi, covering him back up again. He’s tender, gentle, as if it’s no big deal, as if it’s something that he does all the time, but it isn’t.
It feels… different. It feels nice.
Yoongi watches as Jin presses a finger to his lips, smiles down at them both, looking happier than he has done in a long while.
---
The worry hasn’t completely gone from his face but it’s so much less than it was before.
Yoongi watches as Jin smooths the blanket, picks up a stray teddy bear, returns it to Taehyung’s bed. He scoops up the pile of clothes on the floor, dumps them in the laundry bin by the door. Jin and Hobi are pretty much their last line of defense against the chaos and mess in the apartment.
Jungkook is heedless of the interruption, drifting on waves of sleep that threaten to take him completely. He doesn’t even stop nursing as Jin waves, slips out.
---
It’s testament to how tired Jungkook is that he is drifting so easily, but Yoongi also wonders if it’ll be like this every time.
Half of him didn’t expect it to work. Jungkook is stubborn. The last nine days - and the two weeks of camp before that - prove it. He perceives anything but reaching the highest level to be a personal failing, and he will tear himself to shreds if someone doesn’t do it for him.
They’ve tried leaving Jungkook to his own devices, they’ve tried lecturing him, they’ve tried reasoning until they’re blue in the face.
It didn’t work.
---
He cares too much about Jungkook, Yoongi thinks to himself, tightening his grip on Jungkook. Most people would walk away, would say it’s out of my hands, or call me when he loses it completely. It would be so much easier to do that. But Yoongi couldn’t do it, couldn’t let Jungkook implode under the weight of insane expectations and management’s ridiculous, contradictory orders that must never ever be questioned.
Yoongi’s not most people.
And neither is Jungkook. He’s too good to burn out like that, like so many others that Yoongi’s seen, to join the ranks of former trainees.
---
It’s always been this way.
When they first met, Jungkook wasn’t just a little hesitant, a touch nervous. He was painfully shy, anxiety coursing through every inch of him. As time went by, he struggled more and more. He shied away from skinship, showered alone when everybody else had gone to bed, spoke only when spoken to and nothing more. Trying to get him out of that shell has been… a mission all by itself.
But Yoongi refused to let Jungkook sink back then. Offering him this was the only thing that Yoongi had after he exhausted all other options.
---
It had started quietly, just him and Jungkook building trust, building a connection that was theirs, letting Jungkook feel close to someone. Gradually, he grew, physically and in maturity, spreading wings Yoongi knew he had, opening himself up more and more. He flourished, became a little bolder, a little more daring, seeking out challenges instead of hiding from them.
But he hadn’t really thought about it beyond that. When he first started nursing Jungkook, he never really planned what was supposed to happen next, just thought it would gradually ease down over time, a natural endpoint reached by unspoken agreement.
---
Yoongi knows that by doing this, he’s absolutely committing to it. He’s signing up for the long haul, keeping Jungkook afloat in the oncoming storm that is debut and afterwards. Everything they have, they’re risking it all. Soon, there’ll be contracts to sign, promises made for seven years of hell. They’ll be launched into the world as Bangtan Sonyeondan.
If he accepts this now, he’ll be Jungkook’s support for a long time.
He didn’t plan it, didn’t think about that far into the future, but as he looks down at Jungkook, he can’t foresee a future where it stops soon.
---
Jungkook rests on his chest, lips still parted but deep in sleep, carried there by Yoongi’s milk and exhaustion. His cheeks are still a little pinker, dried tear tracks visible in the dim light, but now he looks peaceful. He still clings onto Yoongi, seeking warmth and closeness even in sleep, and he moans a little as Yoongi shifts, sliding down his tank top, covering back up.
The others don’t need to see him like that.
It always makes him feel warm and soft when Jungkook finishes nursing but this time, he can add relief to the list of emotions.
---
Outside, he hears the sound of Jin loading the laundry machine for the morning, humming to himself; Namjoon and Hobi telling the youngest two to turn off the consoles, chivvying them to save it even as they protest, asking for just five minutes more, please, Joonie-hyung, please!
Namjoon on his own might give in - he’s the softest hyung and they know it, and all three of the youngest are absolutely willing to use it to their own ends - but Hobi is utterly immune to pouting, or begging or promises of anything. Yoongi smiles as he hears the groans of compliance.
---
This is normal for them, and it’s soothing to hear it, something normal and familiar in the strangeness of today. He knows in a few minutes, there’ll be a light tap at the door, someone peeking their head through to check that all is well before they all file in, changing into pyjamas, climbing into bed.
But for now, it’s quiet in here, their island of calm, and he cradles Jungkook close, feels exhaustion begin to pull him under, too. His brain is going fuzzy, his eyes closing.
Jungkook’s not the only one pushing himself to the limits this week.
---
Jungkook snuffles in his ear, the deep, even breaths of someone lost to all but the sandman, and Yoongi sighs, lets sleep begin to pull him down, too. In the corridor outside, he hears shuffling, then the sound of the door sliding open. Hobi shushes the others as they file in, but he’s too tired to react.
He hears Namjoon breathe a sigh of relief, and he absolutely doesn’t miss the hand on his hair, again, the gentle stroking that tells him it’s Jin, finally doing what he was desperate to do earlier.
Yoongi finally drifts into dreams, alongside Jungkook.