Work Text:
jungkook is lonely.
in a world where soulmates are your only chance at finding true love, jungkook’s wrist laughs in all it’s blank glory at his misfortune. because jungkook doesn’t have a soulmate, and so it is written in the stars that jungkook will never experience love.
waking up on the morning of his eighteenth birthday was supposed to be a joyous affair, where his family would gush about his unique soulmark and make silly, outlandish predictions about what kind of person his match would be. and jungkook would act embarrassed – act shy and annoyed by their prodding but secretly relish in the confirmation the blackened mark brought. it wasn’t supposed to be spent crying in his mother’s warm hold, mourning his loss and cursing every god and deity in the heavens above for punishing him in such a cruel, torturous way.
his birthday was supposed to be spent getting wasted with his friends and gazing at the sky while lying on the slightly wet grass in his garden, trading his idea of an ideal soulmate for other’s. not alone in his studio, throwing jars of paint angrily against previously blank walls because he can’t stand the sight of their bareness.
he’d spent his whole life dreaming of the day he’d meet his soulmate, how it would happen? would it be like a cliché romance novel, both feeling an electric shock travel up their arms while one passes a latte to the other in a coffee shop? or would their love be forbidden – a romeo and juliet tale of star-crossed lovers, kept apart by those they hold dear? or maybe, it would be simple and ordinary, like meeting in a supermarket while both reaching for the same orange and catching a glimpse of a familiar mark adorning the others wrist.
jungkook had never worried about not having a soulmate – because everyone has a soulmate. the system had no flaws, until him that is. every single person on the planet has a mark, even the reclusive forty-year-old living in his mother’s basement down the street. even that girl who stalked him for months, following him to the gym and to the park and even to his house. even his best friend, taehyung – an aromantic with no desire for love whatsoever – has a platonic soulmate out there, somewhere.
jungkook has no one.
he’d entertained the thought that perhaps his soulmate had no mark aswell – that that was their mark – because the system doesn’t make mistakes, jungkook. there’s a reason for everything. like his brother said. but intense research soon confirmed his worst fears – there is always a mark. no matter how small, there will always be a mark of some form.
and so now jungkook is here, still throwing paint at his walls, imagining that they are the creators of the soulmate system and revelling in the loud smashing of glass against them.
it’s just so unfair. jungkook isn’t a bad person, he’s never done anything to warrant this. sure, he’s made mistakes, but who hasn’t? he’s fairly sure that he’s far more deserving of a soulmate than many others out there who take theirs for granted. like he would probably have done, had he had one.
but he doesn’t.
is there any point in living when he knows he’ll never find the one, the person he’s destined for? is that not what life is for after all, to meet your soulmate and love them for the rest of your days?
he lifts a scalpel off his work desk, thumbing at the handle and raising it towards his wrist – his bare wrist, the wrist that should be tattooed - pale skin glowing in the candlelight. and he presses the blade to it, adding pressure and preparing to draw upwards when he spots a wooden crate in the corner of the room, fake limbs piled inside and threatening to tumble out.
they’d been for his final art project – to make a life-sized sculpture. he’d used them for scaling and measuring, making sure the body wouldn’t be disproportionate and look as lifelike as possible. and an idea hits him. his grip on the scalpel slackens and it falls, it’s connection with the floor echoing in the otherwise silent room.
if the universe won’t give him a soulmate, then he’ll make one himself.
and after three months of planning, measuring, crafting, painting and assembling, jungkook steps back, taking in his creation – no, his soulmate.
he’s perfect.
he’s slightly smaller than planned, but jungkook doesn’t mind, because it works on his soulmate. his feline eyes stare forward, still unseeing until jungkook finishes the process. his soulmate stands stationary, blonde hair swooping slightly down onto his perfectly proportioned face. his lips rest naturally, slightly parted with straight, white teeth visible through the gap. his chest remains unmoving, and his arms hang limply by his sides, large hands and long, thin fingers at their ends.
but the best thing about jungkook’s soulmate is definitely his soulmark. it’s inky black, small and most important of all - it matches jungkook’s.
jungkook looks down at his wrist, no longer blank, now covered with a small spanner, then looks at his soulmate’s matching one; a bolt.
he steps forward slowly, closing the gap between himself and his soulmate, and stops right in front of him. reaching his right hand out, he grasps his soulmate’s chin and tilts it up, before leaning down and capturing his lips in a kiss.
and jungkook breathes life into his soulmate, the previously inanimate body sucking in a large gulp of air as jungkook steps back. he watches as his soulmate turns his head from side to side and sluggishly blinks, fingers curling and uncurling.
and jungkook stares. because he has a soulmate. he isn’t alone anymore. he’s normal.
“where am I?” his soulmate asks, a faint smile upon his lips in spite of his questioning.
“right where you belong. i’m your soulmate, jeon jungkook. what’s your name?” jungkook replies, still staring in awe at his soulmate.
“my name is min yoongi.” his soulmate – no, yoongi – says.
“i’ve waited so long for this moment, yoongi. you have no idea how happy i am to finally meet you.” jungkook grins, leaping forward and encasing yoongi in an impossibly tight hug. yoongi slowly raises his arms and wraps them around jungkook, seeming unsure about his actions.
“don’t worry, that’s perfect. you’re perfect, yoongi.” jungkook soothes, smiling contently and feeling warmer than ever before.
they have their first date the next day – brunch at a quaint, little café in the middle of nowhere. their linked hands and closeness earn them a lot of confused looks, jungkook had become somewhat notorious after news broke of his lack of a soulmate after all, and no one can seem to keep their eyes off of the couple.
sitting across from each other, hands still linked across the table, jungkook smiles to himself.
“are you happy?” yoongi asks, staring at jungkook’s mouth.
“i’m smiling, aren’t i?” jungkook answers, smile turning to a teasing grin.
“ah, of course. i’m glad you’re happy, i’m happy too.” yoongi replies, his own smile subtle but present.
jungkook squeezes yoongi’s hand slightly, before turning his gaze towards the window, glancing at everyone passing by. couples fill the street; some laughing, some fighting, some silent. no two pairings act the same as each other, but they all have something in common – their interactions are all so human.
the movements, the expressions, the voices, all sound so real. there’s life in every little thing they do.
jungkook turns back to face yoongi. perfect yoongi. yoongi who is all jungkook has ever dreamed of and more.
yoongi smiles at him.
and jungkook smiles back because he loves yoongi.
and yoongi loves him.
they have weekly dates after that one, each one bringing a new experience. this week’s date is simple – movie night. jungkook looks out all of his favourites while yoongi lays on the couch, watching jungkook and smiling softly, like always.
after putting titanic into the dvd player, jungkook returns to his rightful place – yoongi’s arms – and leans against him, waiting for the film to come on.
yoongi plays with his hair, something jungkook taught him to do a few weeks back, and jungkook sighs contentedly.
the movie plays, and soon enough jungkook is positively sobbing at the ending, rose left all alone on the makeshift raft, as the love of her life – her soulmate – drowns.
jungkook feels yoongi rub his back in comfort, and dab a tissue under his eyes to wipe away the tears. when he turns to face his soulmate, he is met with a gently smiling yoongi, like always. yoongi isn’t crying of course; yoongi never cries, or gets angry, or sad, he’s always serene, always slightly smiling.
yoongi is considerate, caring and calm.
yoongi is perfect.
and jungkook loves him.
and yoongi loves jungkook.
jungkook is cleaning the house when he feels a sudden urge to dance. not just dance, slow dance.
so he finds an instrumental song – one that’s slow and passionate and full of love – and calls for yoongi, and suddenly yoongi is there, as if he had been the whole time.
jungkook walks forward, takes yoongi’s hands and places them on his waist, before linking his own around yoongi’s shoulder. he begins to sway, and yoongi follows, and soon enough they’re both moving in time to the music.
jungkook grins as he grabs a hold of yoongi’s right hand, lifting it into the air.
“twirl me.” he commands, and yoongi obeys, swivelling his hand while jungkook spins, laughter light and airy.
and yoongi smiles.
they continue to dance until the sun sets, and the room is no longer light, darkness swallowing their surroundings. jungkook tries to find the light but knocks a vase over during his quest, porcelain smashing on the wooden panelling right as jungkook finds the switch.
the room is filled with artificial light as he flips it, and jungkook wishes to be met with an angry face. yoongi’s angry face.
but yoongi isn’t angry.
yoongi is smiling.
still smiling.
because yoongi is perfect.
and jungkook loves yoongi.
but sometimes jungkook wonders if yoongi loves him, when all he seems capable of doing is smiling and following orders.
they’re walking through town when it happens. a girl comes up to them, youthful eyes glowing.
“you two look perfect together!” she says, and jungkook agrees. they do look perfect together.
because yoongi is perfect.
almost too perfect.
jungkook thanks the girl, and yoongi follows suit, still smiling.
and as jungkook watches the girl bound away, embracing another girl tightly and being scalded for running off before receiving a kiss, he turns to yoongi.
“can we go back to the studio?” he asks, widening his eyes slightly, for what reason he isn’t sure however, because he knows yoongi’s answer will be-
“of course, whatever you want.”
as always.
and they walk back, jungkook sets the pace – slow, relishing their time together.
when they reach their destination, jungkook leads yoongi inside, and sits him down on a chair in the centre of the room.
“i’m sorry.” he whispers, leaning down to kiss yoongi one more time.
and yoongi smiles.
jungkook walks away.
he exits the studio and locks the door behind him, before walking towards the beach.
and when he gets there, he throws the keys into the ocean.
because he loves yoongi.
but yoongi cannot love him.