Work Text:
holy fucking shit, that just happened, he thinks.
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yoongi knocks on the door. eventually, it opens to reveal jungkook’s excited smile on the other side. sushiney as ever, he thinks. they share a brief hug, wishes it could be longer. jungkook’s (piece of shit) boyfriend walks over to greet him as well.
it’s summer. a bright sun warms and brightens the house. they have nothing to do, wasting summer days and summer nights smoking cigarettes and dancing to old music on vinyl. jungkook’s boyfriend is always around, and yoongi fucking hates that and him. he takes an opportunity and hops onto the counter next to jungkook, his boyfriend still lingering. listening to kurt cobain’s raspy voice in the background, they share a cigarette, and secret smiles with secret meanings
they don’t even know what they mean.
//////
yoongi thinks jungkook defines the word beauty, encompasses it. he watches him dance, swaying his hips to the tune of an old david bowie song. the bright summer sun shines down on him, almost as bright as his golden smile. he radiates warmth, and yoongi feels so cold, feels like he's too far away from the warmth that is jeon jungkook.
he almost forgets jungkook’s boyfriend is there.
//////
more secret smiles and now secret glances.
they might know what they mean.
//////
a few more people come over. jungkook’s boyfriend drinks a few more beers.
they watch him stumble away, obviously drunk. yoongi sees jungkook expression shift, wants to ask him how often this happens, what happens when this happens.
he doesn’t.
//////
more glances, this time at lips and straight into eyes.
they definitely know what it means.
//////
everyone’s either smoking or drinking. yoongi and jungkook lay on the couch, laughing, sharing. jungkook’s boyfriend walks over, harshly grabs jungkook’s wrist. he wraps his arms around jungkook’s waist. way too tight, yoongi can tell. he mouths at jungkook’s neck, not wanted. jungkook lets him do it anyway. a fake laugh spouts from his lips.
yoongi feels sick and angry, feels a burning in the bottom of his stomach.
//////
yoongi later finds jungkook sitting outside. he takes a seat next to him. he feels jungkook lean closer until his head is resting on his shoulder. they share a feeling now, and then they share a glance and almost a kiss. almost, but suddenly, yoongi feels himself being ruffly pushed into the ground, scraping his face along the concrete. he doesn’t register what the fuck just happened until he hears and sees it. it being jungkook’s officially piece of shit boyfriend screaming at jungkook. jungkook looks scared, small, a few lone tears drops falling down from his doe eyes.
he loses it then. those eyes are made for crinkling from laughter and bright, sunshine smiles, for reflections of the sunlight and a radiating warmth. he won’t let this asshole make them show anything less. he punches him and he punches him and he punches him and he punches him for the yelling and the touching and the grabbing and the drinking. he keeps going and keeps going and keeps going for the secret glances and the secret smiles and the secret feelings.
jungkook pulls him off with tear tracks on his cheeks. yoongi places his hands on his hips, soothing touch rather than controlling. jungkook places his hands on his cheeks, stroking the scrapes gently. their almost kiss becomes a real one. yoongi doesn’t think there’s anything else he would ever want more on this earth.
he feels a storm in this kiss.
//////
yoongi feels the breeze of a late summer’s evening hit his scrapes, and he’s never been happier because holy shit, that just fucking happened.
he shares a secret smile with the sun.
//////
him and jungkook share more kisses.
he feels sunshine in these ones.
he hopes to feel sunshine in all the rest.