Chapter Text
Jungkook's eyes flutter closed. And he basks in the waves of dimmed, golden sunlight filtering through the window.
Yoongi lives off small, stolen moments like these. The music room is their haven.
Jungkook's fingers caress the piano keys, with the gentle affection of a shy lover. Yoongi pretends he doesn't acknowledge this. That his heart, the stupid, treacherous thing, doesn't skip a beat and melts away in his ribcage.
Jungkook's eyebrows pull together. His fingers hover the right keys, but he lacks confidence. Yoongi's transparent hands reach for Jungkook's, and only tremble a little at the boldness of the move. Jungkook stiffens significantly under his touch, but doesn't say a thing. He never does.
The tips of his fingers commit the curves and valleys of Jungkook's knuckles to memory as they rest over them. They always find themselves wishing to slip into the crevices of his hands. Jungkook must notice. If the way his cheeks blush when Yoongi’s hands linger, too little too much, is any indication of that. He doesn’t say anything though. Smiles.
Yoongi wishes he would.
Their hands press the keys with a firm, but gentle touch. The mellow sound flutters around them, and bounces off the walls. Dies a slow death, as Yoongi's hands remove from Jungkook's, and then the younger boy does not carry on with the melody's heartbeat. As if on silent strike, for the touch of Yoongi's cold fingertips on his skin. On the side, said boy is trying really hard to hold back the urge to comply.
Jungkook starts humming the tune, as the last vibrations of the piano subside. He closes his eyes, a soft smile tugging at his lips. It's the first verse.
You're the sunlight that rose again in my life.
A reincarnation of my childhood dreams.
Yoongi's heart falters, kicks against his ribcage. He silently reprimands it. Jungkook's only humming the lyrics, his lyrics, but the carefully woven emotions of Yoongi are still there. Or maybe they are someone else's; with being an artist meaning that sometimes you steal from others emotional experiences and make them your own.
Nevertheless, the implicit lyrics in Jungkook's honey dripping humming take his breath away. Jungkook takes his breath away. Yoongi stares at what feels like a scene from his life reel, stilled in time. There's a literal halo of light surrounding Jungkook. An ethereal stream of sunset light pouring from the window over him, and the old brown piano.
I don't know what this emotion is.
If this place is also inside a dream.
The lyrics of the first verse stick to the front of his mind. They do so for a while, even after Jungkook moves on to the next verse, and his fingers try to follow the song with the keys. Yoongi's mind becomes sluggish. It's as if there's no one else, nothing else that matters, existing beyond the four walls of their music haven. Everything's in perfect harmony. Until they get to the chorus.
Take my hands now...
The piano whines under Jungkook’s amateur touch. It's a small mistake, but the dissonant note disturbs the harmony of Yoongi's fantasy bubble. Jungkook winces, removes his fingers from the keys. Yoongi sighs.
"Enough for today. I'm tired already, let's go home." It's a lie, and Yoongi knows it.
Neither of them want to go home, they never do. That's why they linger behind at the music room, long after everybody else has left. Jungkook doesn't protest, though. He nods. And they both walk to the bus stop, side by side. Innocently brushing arms as they leave the bubble dream behind, with the last of the sunset's dying light. Try as he might, Yoongi can't help but humming the chorus to himself again and again, when he's alone on the bus ride home.