Work Text:
"Be my bus buddy?"
Yoongi looks up from his phone to see Jungkook and gives him a smile, "You know it."
"Cool."
Yoongi tucks his phone away and looks at his friend. Jungkook has a massive black sweater on and blue ripped skinny jeans, his converse are black and covered with dirt on the toes. They each have a drawstring bag slung over their shoulders, courtesy of the PTA, with Bangtan High School Grad Party written on it in ugly, ugly, yellow over black. Yoongi won't miss the school colours, but he will miss high school.
Of course, at the same time he won't miss it at all. Because who really likes high school all that much? But it's easy to feel nostalgic, and it's even easier to miss the friends you've spent four years bonding with. Especially since they're all going to a different school. The thought makes Yoongi's heart ache, makes his throat close up like he might cry.
He nearly did today, at the ceremony. At their graduation. One of their teachers gave the most heartfelt speech about using their art as their superpower, and Namjoon got philosophical as always. It wasn't until Jungkook was on stage with the other honorary athletes, instructing the class to swap their tassel from right to left, that it really hit Yoongi. Even though they didn't throw their caps in the air, everything came crashing down in one big wave (a tsunami). It was over, they were done. They didn't need to wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning for calculus but—
It still isn't over.
"I'm glad you came," Yoongi says, "You said you might not."
"Yeah, I didn't think I'd be able to get off work but I swapped with someone. And, you know, I have to see you all for as long as I can before, uh, we leave."
"Yeah. That's what I was thinking too," Yoongi agrees, looking around them.
Namjoon and Jimin are chatting with their fellow Valedictorians, Taehyung and Seokjin are with their theatre buddies taking pictures, and Hoseok is with the leadership crew signing yearbooks.
"Graduates!" Someone finally yells over the loudspeaker of the school cafeteria. It's past 10pm, and half the graduating class is gathered to go on the school-sanctioned grad party. One that is—despite Yoongi overhearing whispers of edibles and flasks—drugs and alcohol free. Safe and monitored.
"Class of 2019! If I could have your attention," a short PTA mom with a tight bun and dark lipstick tries to yell over the chatter, "We are going to get on the buses now, but before you get in you must see me outside so I can check you off. You can head out now, but remember you must see me!"
With that, a mass migration occurs. Students swarm up the steps to the exit, and Jungkook and Yoongi linger long enough for their other friends to come join them.
"Jungkook!" Hoseok shouts excitedly, giving him a hug, "You're here!"
"Yep."
Namjoon attempts to stuff his personal bag into the one the school handed out, and Yoongi eyes it.
"Did you seriously bring your makeup bag?"
Namjoon glares at him, "We're gonna be gone for 5 hours, you'll thank me when we're bored after 2am and have something to do."
"You think I'm gonna let you do my make up?" Yoongi laughs, "I don't think so. I've got my skin care routine down, that stuff will just fuck it up."
"You have a skin care routine?" Jungkook asks as he holds the door open for them all to step outside.
"Yeah, it’s called water."
Jungkook snorts and grins, staying close to Yoongi’s side so they aren't separated.
"You can do mine," Hoseok says to Namjoon, looking sly.
Namjoon rolls his eyes, because they all know Hobi won't sit still long enough for Namjoon to be satisfied, and last time Hobi got up mid-lipstick application and it left a pink mark up his cheek. Namjoon thought it dishonored his work, and Hobi thought it was the most hilarious thing since Jimin beat Jin in an arm wrestling competition. Weight training had really been doing something for the dancer.
Yoongi ends up in the window seat, the sky black outside as they barrel down the highway. The thing about tonight is that it's the very last time he's going to see most these people. They’ll all leave and see new schools. New people. No reason to stay in contact if you haven't been good friends. But even if Yoongi doesn't know very many of them very well, he genuinely likes most everybody. And they seem to like him well enough too, and university, well. Is big. It isn't the same. It's easy to get lost in the crowd.
Here at least, they all know him. And soon, he might be no one.
"I can't wait to play some laser tag," Jungkook comments, making Yoongi look at him in the dark.
The people on the bus are rowdy, which, he should have anticipated. They're blaring music on someone's speaker, Sik-k bouncing off the walls like they're trapped in a tin can.
"Oh yeah? Laser tag huh?"
"Dude," Jungkook beams, eyes shining, "I fucking love laser tag. We played it when I graduated middle school and I demolished the other team single handedly."
Yoongi laughs, "You're that confident are you? You better be on my team then."
"I don't know Yoongi, shouldn't I prove myself to you by taking you down?" He cocks a playful eyebrow.
"I think you just want to show off."
Jungkook presses a hand to his chest, "Me? Never."
Yoongi elbows him in the side for that fondly. Taehyung pokes his head over the seat in front of them, looking down at Yoongi and Jungkook.
"Did I hear laser tag?"
"Yeah!" Jungkook says loudly over the ruckus in the back, "Laser tag! You in?"
"I'm already there. Let's get the others to play too," Tae suggests, and proceeds to reach across the aisle and yank on Hoseok's sweater.
"It's gonna be a battle of the best now," Jungkook whispers conspiratorially to Yoongi.
"Only of Seokjin plays," he corrects, making Jungkook’s mouth fall open in realization.
"Fuck, you're right. Seokjin!" Jungkook gets on his knees, turning to peer back over their seat.
Yoongi shakes his head, not all that excited to play but absolutely ecstatic to see his friends go up against each other in a healthy show of rivalry. They've been like this all year. In singing classes and gym and particularly playing football in the fall. They were both team captains, and they were supposed to work together but they never could play on the field at the same time. Their styles clashed, and they'd frequently yell at one another from the sidelines, urging each other to pass the ball, kick it harder, or take the damn shot already.
Despite it all, or maybe because of it, they became fast friends. Jungkook is on leadership too, and Yoongi always saw him in the morning announcement videos they put out. He was smiley and good natured and so fucking good at everything.
Is good everything.
And most certainly Yoongi will be just as impressed with his laser tag skills.
"Seokjin is in," Jungkook tells him in satisfaction as he slides back down into his seat, now closer to Yoongi than he was before so half his body isn't hanging out into the aisle. "He's not gonna see what's coming to him."
"I don't know," Yoongi teases, "Jin is pretty good at those carnival shooter games."
Jungkook's expression becomes focused, "We'll see about that."
Yoongi smiles to himself, looking back out the window as the bus shudders over a bump in the road. Seoul is somehow more beautiful at night than during the day. It's mostly due to the lack of smog and the stars that peek out to say hello, but it's the lights on the ground that make Yoongi stare in awe. The buildings with windows glowing white and soft yellow, the bridges with street lamps in a variety of colours, the skyscrapers decorated with multicoloured bulbs that change color with the season.
They're yellow and orange and pink now, mimicking some of the flower buds that have just come into full bloom. It's hard to imagine what this massive city would look like if it went dark.
"Do you remember when that black out happened?" Jungkook asks quietly from his side.
Yoongi nods, not phased by Jungkook practically reading his mind.
"I thought the world was ending," Yoongi replies, "I had never seen darkness like that before."
"Me either. I remember going outside to stand on the street with my, uh, brother. Since we lived up in the hills we could see as it just swept through Yongsan. Jung and Mapo went dark too and it was just...scary."
"We wouldn't survive the apocalypse."
"Hey," Jungkook nudges him, "speak for yourself."
"You’re right, you're right," Yoongi tries to remain poker faced, "I forgot that your laser tag skills will save us all."
"They will," Jungkook insists, laughing as Yoongi's composure breaks into a large smile.
"I don't doubt it."
At long last they roll to a halt. The mom at the front of bus instructs them to disembark and get a card and wristband to play—as she emphasized—unlimited games. They do as much, Yoongi helping Jungkook with his band and the the other returning the favor wordlessly. Jin comes up with Jimin by his side and cracks his fingers, nodding towards the sign that says Laser Tag Xtreme in dramatic lettering.
Namjoon reluctantly tags along, Jimin taking him by the elbow as they get in line with some other classmates. One of the employees, dressed in blue and wearing a less than pleased expression, comes out and lets them into a dark room.
"Hell yeah," Tae exclaims. The vests for the game are hung on the wall, looking like armor from Halo with lights glowing on the shoulders, front, and back. Taehyung slings one over his head and buckles it on, the others following suit. Jungkook takes a jacket with green lights, and Jin takes one that's red. From this point on, they are no longer friends, but enemies.
"You ready to be slaughtered?" Seokjin demands, using his broad shoulders to look intimidating.
"You'll be running in no time," Jungkook shrugs, unphased.
"No slaughtering," Namjoon frowns.
"Oh come on, Joonie," Jimin chides, "let the idiots have their fun."
"Hey!" Seokjin turns on him, making Jimin fall into laughter and hide behind Namjoon.
Yoongi struggles with the straps of his vest, trying to tighten it on his waist. He sticks out one lip, fingers fumbling and ultimately giving up. The gun hangs awkwardly from a plastic rope down to the floor, and Yoongi yanks it up, seeing how it fits in his hand. He pulls the trigger experimentally and jumps when the sound of shooting blares from the speakers on his shoulders.
"Alright," the employee claps to get everyone's attention, "we're gonna start with watching a video and then we'll begin."
The video is easily 15 years old, a bit grainy and way out of date. No roughhousing, no violence, no running. The rules seem kind of ridiculous, and truly make it less Xtreme than advertised. When the words no swearing appear on screen, Hoseok announces to the darkness—
"Well, shit."
Taehyung and Jimin erupt into laughter, Jungkook too.
At last, they're let into the room. It's dark with rainbow lights flickering and dancing around, a bit like a disco. A smoke machine must be hidden somewhere, because grey fog is rolling in and filing the space. Throughout the room, walls and columns break up the area and create hiding spots. Yoongi follows Jungkook to their home base as Jin and Jimin walk the other direction with some other students, leaving 5 for the green team. The base is a wall with a screen on it, keeping track of energy and points. They can see the other teams count on it as well, and as they stand in front of it a woosh sound from the jacket lets them know they've been fully energized.
Jungkook is number 97, and Jin is 92.
Jungkook points up at the screen, "See that? We're even now. But by the end, well," he smirks, scheming, "you'll see."
Yoongi can't help but smile, "Oh yeah? Jin seemed pretty sure of himself."
"He's good," Taehyung chimes in, "We played once in theatre as a team-bonding exercise and he was like, no joke."
Jungkook waves him off, "Don't worry team, I got this."
"You just about tripping on your own gown earlier doesn't leave me with a ton of confidence," Hoseok interrupts.
"Hey," Jungkook's eyes go big, "that could have been so humiliating let's not talk about that."
"What happened?" Taehyung asks, arm slinging over Hoseok, "Kook tripped at graduation?"
"Almost," Jungkook corrects through gritted teeth, "But I didn't."
"Jungkook tripped?" Namjoon turns around.
"No!" He throws his hands in the air and Yoongi laughs.
"Jungkook did not trip," Yoongi takes his side, "Now let’s crush Seokjin."
"That's the spirit," Jungkook gives Yoongi a high five.
A siren blares three times, and a deep ominous voice booms, go!
Jungkook slinks away into the dark, his green lights the only sign of him as he moves. Yoongi shuffles his feet, unsure whether to go with him, or if he would just mess Jungkook up. He decides to go solo, leaving after Namjoon and going to a wall on the far side. He squints through a cut out in the wall, and panics when he hears an alarm beeping in his jacket. Shit, he's getting shot at.
He moves away from the hole but peeks his head around the side of the barrier. He spots red lights, and aims his gun. Yoongi fires over and over again, but the person moves away before Yoongi can hit the target or score any points. Frankly, he's not surprised. He doesn't usually do well with things like this, but of course he's playing anyway. Because his friends are here. And this is their last night.
It feels weird to think about. Unreal. Incomprehensible. The part where they're done with high school classes is okay, that's fine, that’s a damn relief. What's hard to grasp is that this night is—
Yoongi presses his back against a wall and slides down, crouching and looking around the corner. He takes aim and fires, finally hearing the tell-tale ding of a shot opponent.
—the end. The end. Maybe the end of his group of friends as he known it. Namjoon is going to cosmetology school. Which, he's gotten an immense amount of shit for. He says he's going to take night school to become a psychologist at the same time, and somehow the combination makes sense for Namjoon. He's creative and steady, but also a leader, a fixer. A listener.
Yoongi gets shot rapidly on one side, his shoulder exposed through a gap in the wall. His suit says energy out, recharge, energy out, recharge. So Yoongi dashes back to the base, the jacket wooshing full of energy. He holds his gun tighter and nearly bumps into Taehyung as the other returns to the base to recharge as well. Tae has his signature boxy grin, and points up at the screen.
"Look, were crushing them."
Yoongi cranes his neck, and sure enough it's 5,500 to 1,700. And if Yoongi is reading it right, Jungkook scored 3,200 of their points on his own. He is good. Not that Yoongi is surprised, because it's hard to be at this point. As Yoongi takes a step back into the action, he can't help but feel a bit guilty.
Jungkook has expressed his dislike of being called the golden student, the golden child, athlete, what have you. Everyone expects him to be perfect, to be good at everything, and Yoongi knows that creates a ton of pressure for him to live up to. So Yoongi tries to not make it seem like he expects the most out of Jungkook. Tries to acknowledge the other's work ethic instead of his good grades. Says you practiced hard, instead of that's pure talent. When Yoongi does this, Jungkook stares at him with warm eyes full of relief.
Jungkook suddenly rushes past Yoongi, gun out at he takes down someone in red who’s running away.
Yoongi passes through the dark to join Hoseok's side, aiming over a barrier to shoot at the people there. Yoongi fires—
Hoseok and Jimin are going to the same dance conservatory next year. Even though Hoseok will by studying street dance and hip hop, Jimin learning contemporary dance, at least they'll have each other and see each other. They won't be as alone, and they're even talking about rooming together.
—and knows he hits Seokjin based on the frustrated shriek he emits.
Yoongi evacuates the area with Hoseok right behind him, and then suddenly a bell rings and the lights go up.
"Alright, game over! Back in the room," the employee in blue calls out.
Some grumbles radiate out throughout the room, and then Yoongi sees Jungkook.
The guy has a shit-eating grin. He's walking with a bounce in his step. He has the posture of a man who just kicked ass at laser tag, and kick ass he did.
They take back off their vests, hanging them like saddles over protruding poles from the walls for the next group to use. They trudge out, Seokjin and Jungkook exchanging banter highlighted by Jungkook's snickers and Seokjin's whining.
Seokjin is going straight to a university. Majoring in theatre, with a focus on acting. He has grandiose dreams of being an actor, and hell, if anyone is gonna be able to do that it would be Seokjin. He has the attitude, face, and memorization skills necessary for the job. Yoongi thinks he'll see his friend on the big screen one day.
Yoongi just hopes he sees Seokjin again before then.
Next up is mini golf. Jimin and Yoongi have to pick up the slightly shorter golf clubs, which Namjoon and Hoseok tease them endlessly for. Taehyung puts Jimin in a friendly headlock and snuggles his face into Jimin's fluffy blond hair, the shorter shoving uselessly at his friend's chest. Jungkook hands Yoongi a pale blue golf ball, Yoongi's favourite colour.
"It was the last one in the dispenser," Jungkook tells him, twisting his black ball between his fingers. "I thought you should have it."
"Thanks," Yoongi says, swinging his club back and forth and gazing around the course. Little wooden houses, a windmill, and water fountains decorate the paths of fake green grass that twist around the structures. It’s not that chilly despite it nearing eleven at night. Maybe that's because summer is nearly here, or maybe that's because there's no time to feel cold tonight.
"Way to win laser tag," Yoongi adds, "Not that I ever doubted you.”
“I bet you’ll win this though,” Jungkook rests his club against his shoulder, the end sticking out into the air.
“Why’s that?”
“You’re closer to the ground,” Jungkook looks smug, and Yoongi pouts at him. The other laughs and then shakes his head, “I’m sorry. I saw the opportunity and took it. You’re not short.”
“Sorry, can you say that louder?” Yoongi requests, cheeks aching with the size of his own smile.
“You’re not short,” Jungkook says loud enough for Hoseok to glance over and giggle.
“Louder! So they can all hear!” Yoongi presses.
Jungkook snorts, but takes it in stride. He hops on top a fake hill of grass and spreads his arms wide, like he’s going to take flight.
“Everyone!” He bellows, their friends turning to stare. Jimin whips out his phone, zooming in and out dramatically. “Min Yoongi is average height! He is not short!”
Taehyung has to take over filming as Jimin folds over in laughter, Namjoon pats Yoongi on the back, and Jungkook hops down, sidling up to Yoongi.
“How’s that?”
“Perfect,” Yoongi replies, blushing from the attention they called to themselves. To himself.
Jungkook slings an arm over Yoongi’s shoulders and pulls him close to his side. Gentle and reassuring.
They start going through the course. Skipping the parts that are too hard; they’re here to have fun not get a migraine. Yoongi feels the way silence envelopes him and his tongue gets caught behind his teeth. This happens sometimes, even when he’s among his best friends. It’s just easier to be quiet than to trip over his words trying to make a joke. Jungkook does a similar thing. He’ll grin huge and giggle a lot, much like Yoongi, but he doesn’t take part in the conversation unless someone singles him out.
Namjoon takes three tries at hitting his ball and his club swings right past, achieving nothing. Yoongi laughs at him, earning himself dagger eyes from his friend. But Jungkook is laughing too, and they look at each other with their friends jostling Namjoon around them.
Yoongi isn’t sure how he’s going to manage without Jungkook to turn to in moments of despair; or moments of utter bliss.
Yoongi’s jaw tightens and he grimaces down at his feet. He can’t imagine going to a party without Jungkook to leave early with. Can’t imagine sitting in a group at dinner and not knowing who to sit by. What if he has cat memes to send someone? Or a high quality vine compilation of animals singing Christmas carols? Only Jungkook likes things like that—and sends Yoongi videos of dogs greeting their owners after they’ve been away in the military, or sloths blinking sleepily in a tree—in return.
Maybe that’s supposed to be the magic of the internet—they can do all this without being beside each other.
Then why does it already feel like it’s not enough? They’re going to be busy in college, very busy, and sure they’ll exchange texts and Snapchats but eventually they won’t have a reason to keep up with it anymore and Yoongi—
Doesn’t want that day to come. Is dreading it really. He’s scared that one day he’ll get a message from the taller and it’ll be the last one he ever gets. Yoongi’s scared he himself is gonna lose the energy and motivation to keep in contact with Jungkook. He’s scared they’re going to drift apart and never come back together.
Don’t get Yoongi wrong. He loves all his friends. So very much. But where Namjoon is logical Jungkook feels, where Hoseok is strict Jungkook is patient, where Jimin is comforting Jungkook knows how to give him space. Taehyung is forgiving and Jungkook holds Yoongi accountable. Seokjin is protective and so is Jungkook, but where Jin stands in front of Yoongi, Jungkook stands beside him. All those things together make him different than any of the others. For some reason, this difference feels incredibly important to Yoongi. He doesn’t like the idea of Jungkook being lumped in as just—
Anyway. Yoongi can’t, or doesn’t want to, picture his life without his friend.
But Jungkook. Well.
He’s going to Busan. A little school by the sea, who offered him an insane full ride to play volleyball and surf and football. Jungkook found a local art studio he’s going to try and volunteer—or work—at painting murals throughout the town, or restoring old artworks. He’s going to have a place to live, there’s a gym nearby and lots of local markets. Jungkook is excited to go. Thrilled, really. When they were doing entrance exams Jungkook hadn’t had a plan for his schooling after high school. He said he’d wait for offers and see what happened.
And man, offers he got. His sports and arts combined, plus his strong academics, made him the perfect candidate for college investments. All the teachers love him and he came with high recommendations. Jungkook was stressed a long time, and more than a few times Yoongi said, “Just go to Seoul National and figure out the rest later.”
Because SNU is close. Because it wasn’t Busan. And Jungkook wouldn’t leave.
Then—Jungkook decided. He didn’t consult Yoongi or any of their other friends. Which, Yoongi supposes is good. Jungkook made the decision based solely on his own desires and no one else’s. That’s what most people had done. Because it’s their own futures and no one else’s. They should be thinking about themselves, and be selfish for once. Maybe for the for the first time. (Like Namjoon and cosmetology school.)
(Like Jungkook and Ilgwang College, renowned for their athletics and lavish facilities and hand-picked students.)
Yoongi’s stomach curls with dread at the thought of everyone leaving. Of being alone. Of going to Seoul National and still living at home because he can’t afford anything else, and because he couldn’t apply to the programs or scholarships he wanted to—but that’s something else. Namjoon is going back to Ilsang and Jimin and Hoseok will be on the far south side of Seoul and Yoongi will be here. Like a bird that stays put while the rest of the flock migrates.
Of course they’ll come back during holidays and summer breaks, but eventually they’ll land internships or jobs that keep them away. They’ll get their own places and Yoongi—
It’ll never be the same again. After tonight.
They finish mini golf with laughter. Saying goodbye to their colorful balls as they drop them down the last hole, where they’re tunneled away to a collection bin somewhere. Yoongi looks into the dark abyss and says:
“Goodbye, you will be missed.”
And Jungkoook says as he drops his golf ball down, “Toodles.”
And that makes everyone laugh again. And they’re all so happy and Yoongi feels something squeezing his chest because he is increasingly not happy. Not happy. Not happy. He can’t say that though, and risk ruining this. Risk Jimin breaking down and Taehyung going silent. Namjoon getting hard as he tries to remain indifferent and Hoseok’s heart mouth turning upside down, going flat. Doesn’t want to see Seokjin get teary eyed and pull Jungkook in for a hug.
Doesn’t want to see Jungkook stare blankly back at Yoongi, because Yoongi has never seen him cry.
(And it would be so much worse if he did, especially now.)
They head back inside, Taehyung and Jungkook foaming at the mouth in hunger. They devour a dozen greasy pizza slices between them and make a blend of sodas from the machine, half Fanta part Coke part Dr. Pepper. Yoongi grimaces, but Jungkook makes him take a sip and, admittedly, it’s not bad.
Namjoon taps out a beat on a table decorated with black and gold tinsel, and Jimin hums along, Hoseok standing beside them and rolling his body to the rhythm. Some other school kids are in the dining room with them, someone is passed out in a chair and the others are absorbed in their phones. Privately, Yoongi wonders what they’re thinking. And in a way, is envious of how indifferent they are to this milestone; this end of an era. Yoongi’s knows most people name high school as the worst years of their lives—but Yoongi’s dad always calls it his golden days, and Yoongi can’t help but feel the same. Like it’s never gonna get better than this, and it’s all down hill from here.
Yoongi snacks on cold popcorn and a seltzer water, praying not to get anything stuck in his teeth.
They move on to the arcade, and Seokjin challenges everyone in sight to a battle in Guitar Hero. He beats Jimin by an embarrassing amount, and Namjoon by even more. Jin calls over theatre friends and other people from his classes, a circle forming around him. Taehyung and Hoseok are playing air hockey, with Jungkook jumping up and down in between them, claiming not to be cheering for the one over the other. And he’s not—he’s just shouting at each of them for making dumb plays.
Yoongi doesn’t feel out of place exactly, he’s just retreated into himself. Jungkook catches his attention, and offers a soft smile. He walks around the hockey table to join Yoongi.
“It’s almost two in the morning.”
“Is it really?” Yoongi questions.
“Yeah. I’m not even tired though. I got my second wind.”
“Or you’re just drunk on exhaustion,” Yoongi’s lips quirk.
“Or that,” Jungkook sighs. Then he turns in, gets closer to Yoongi, and places a hand on Yoongi’s back. “What do you say about getting out of here?”
The shorter looks up at him in alarm, “What?”
“There’s a Nene Chicken across the street, we can just, you know, slip out and go eat.”
“But you just had pizza,” Yoongi says, too surprised to even comment on the leaving the grad party where the chaperones are legally responsible to know their whereabouts.
“Yoongi, when have I ever not been hungry?”
Jungkook has a point.
“And we’ll be back before we have to leave, they won’t even notice we’re gone.”
“Our friends will,” Yoongi feels it’s important to mention.
Jungkook shrugs, “So? You in?”
“Well,” Yoongi bites his lip, glancing around the arcade. Everyone is occupied with either watching or playing a game, they only have two chaperones and neither of them are in sight. “I guess.”
“Hell yeah,” Jungkook grins, leaning forward on his feet and suddenly taking Yoongi by the wrist, “Let’s get it.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes fondly, coming along as Jungkook leads them out of the room, down the hall with the bathrooms, and out a door labeled with a green exit sign.
It’s that easy, but Yoongi still bursts out laughing, nerves getting to him as they run across the parking lot with streetlights shining down on them. Jungkook is smiling impossibly wide, and when they reach the street corner they’re both out of breath.
“Doesn’t it feel to good to get out of there?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, “It really does.”
“I can’t wait to get some chicken. Thank god they’re open 24/7.”
Yoongi huffs, “I can’t believe you’re serious about this.”
“When do I joke about food? Of course I’m serious. We can share something. You ate, like, nothing in there.”
“Yeah, because it was all greasy as fuck and Nene definitely isn’t any better.”
“Maybe not,” Jungkook allows as the light changes and they cross the near deserted road, “But it’s greasy and delicious. That pizza was just greasy cardboard.”
“And you still ate that much?”
“Hey, I was hungry.”
“Are hungry,” Yoongi corrects.
“You right,” Jungkook sticks his tongue out slightly, “So hungry. My mouth is watering. I haven’t had Nene’s in a thousand years.”
“Weren’t you eating it Monday in class?”
“That was a thousand years ago, Yoongi. C’mon now. It’s been a long fucking week.”
“I agree.”
Jungkook only lets go of Yoongi’s wrist as he pushes open the door to the fast food place. They go up to the counter where an employee, looking bored out of his mind, lights up at the prospect of having something to do.
“Hey, can I get a regular bulgogi chicken basket for here, please? And then whatever he’s having,” Jungkook gestures back at Yoongi.
“Hey, I can buy my own food.”
“But I’m the one who dragged you here, let me get it for you, don’t worry about it.”
Yoongi pouts, but he’s not ever gonna turn free food, not that Jungkook needs to know that.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, please?” Jungkook eyes widen.
Yoongi looks away, and approaches the counter next to him.
“Can I get your kimchi crab burger? Bulgogi style.”
The guy rings up their order and they hear the chef in the back clang around, getting to work.
Yoongi and Jungkook tuck themselves into a booth at the far end of the restaurant, away from the windows that look out onto the Fun Center they abandoned.
The food comes out faster than anything freshly made should come out, even if they are in a chain built on the speed of service. But the food is hot and it’s greasy, and as Jungkook promised, it’s delicious. Yoongi’s burger drips on his chin and Jungkook’s fingers get covered in sauce as he eats the bones clean like a Mukbang channel on YouTube. Yoongi tells him as much, and they soon are discussing what SNS career they’d go viral in. Yoongi says he’s make remixes of pop songs and turn them into something grungy, but Jungkook wrinkles his nose at the suggestion and says Yoongi should be an ASMRtist called ‘Kitten Whispers’.
“I feel like you’ve thought about this before if you already have a name picked out for my channel,” Yoongi leans back in his seat, rubbing his tummy that’s stuffed full of burger and fries.
“Maybe,” Jungkook smirks, “Do you think I’d be a TikTok star?”
“Maybe. Or like a health channel on YouTube that gets sponsored by Muscle Milk and Supreme.”
Jungkook leans his head back in laughter, “That would be the life.”
“No, but seriously,” Yoongi continues, “I think you’d be a vlogger. But like, a really artsy one. Like that video you made when you and Jimin went to Tokyo during winter break. Like that.”
“You always bring that up,” Jungkook says quietly.
“That’s because it was really good. And I know you loved making it.”
“I did,” Jungkook picks at his napkin.
“Why aren’t you going to school for film?” Yoongi asks.
And he’s asked before. Because there’s not just the Tokyo video, there’s one from Osaka and the US and Seoul. And from school and his sports teams. He’ll be working on a new one in class when they’re meant to be writing an essay or catching up on work, and instead Yoongi will look over to see Jungkook immersed in the editing process.
“Yoongi,” is all Jungkook replies with. A sign he doesn’t want to get into it now.
“Sorry,” Yoongi clears his throat and takes a drink of his soda. “How was prom?”
Jungkook’s expression changes from closed off to almost awkward, maybe embarrassed?
“What?” Yoongi presses, intrigued.
“It was fine. I mean, Jihyo and I didn’t really...talk very much.”
There’s a beat of silence as Yoongi’s brain processes his words, “You mean you—“
“No! No! No nothing like that,” Jungkook blushes. “We just don’t have much in common. And I don’t really think she’s my...“
“Your what?”
“My type,” Jungkook finishes quietly.
“Oh. Well that’s fine. You’ll meet lots of cool surfer girls at school probably.”
“Yeah, I don’t think—” Jungkook shakes his head, “Nothing. Never mind.”
“No, what?” Yoongi sits forward, it’s not typical for Jungkook to be so cagey. Especially with Yoongi. “What are you thinking?”
“I think—“ Jungkook bites his lip and looks up at the ceiling— “I think I don’t like girls like that.”
It takes a second. For it to make sense. And when it does, Yoongi doesn’t know how to react. No ones ever come out to him before, if that’s even what this is. He could be misunderstanding entirely, and Jungkook is going to say something any second that cements the fact that Jungkook is, in fact, straight. As Yoongi has believed for as long as he’s known him. Because Jungkook talks about girls, talks to girls, asks them on dates and holds hands with them. Gets them lunch and flirts effortlessly and acts confident—
But maybe, that’s all it ever was. An act. A last-ditch attempt for Jungkook to convince himself he wasn’t—
“What I mean is, I think I’m gay.”
“Oh,” Yoongi says plainly. And realizing he should probably say more, since Jungkook’s baring his soul, “How do you know? I mean—not that I doubt you or anything, I just—“
“No, yeah, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassures. “It’s probably weird since I’ve been...seeing girls all year,” Jungkook fiddles with the strings of his hoody. “I thought I just hadn’t found the right person, you know? Like they were all pretty and nice and everything, but whenever they wanted to get closer or tried to have conversation with me about our, uh, relationship, I just felt weird. I didn’t want that, and I never thought about them romantically, really.”
“I get that,” Yoongi tells him.
Jungkook smiles, grateful for Yoongi’s validation, “Yeah. And I guess, I’d thought about some guys, you know, in ways I shouldn’t have.”
“Not shouldn’t,” Yoongi corrects, “There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I know, that’s not what I mean. Just—“ he sighs.
“Who was your gay awakening?” Yoongi asks cheekily.
This gets Jungkook to laugh, and lightens the mood considerably.
“Well, probably Justin Bieber. Tony Stark, obviously. And you know, when I met Namjoon he was...really attractive and smart. I think I had a little crush on him before, but I only admire him, I don’t really, uh, like him like that.”
“Oh man, me too. I had a crush on Namjoon when we were like fourteen and I just about combusted everytime he smiled at me.”
Jungkook blinks. Stares.
Yoongi realizes what he’s said.
“What?” Jungkook asks, face changing to something expressionless. “What do you mean?”
Yoongi’s throat closes up, his insides twisting and condensing into stones at the pit of his stomach. He isn’t meant to tell Jungkook this, hasn’t told anyone this—even though Namjoon knows. Hoseok knows. Seokjin knew first and the rest followed. Yoongi had never told them, really, but one day they collectively stopped asking about the cute girl in band and started asking Yoongi about the boy who played bass and that was that. No biggy. Nothing to worry about.
“I—I’m—“
Yoongi can’t say it.
Jungkook says it for him, “You’re gay?”
“Um.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jungkook asks, and he doesn’t sound mad like Yoongi thought he might. More concerned. More sad. “I’m sorry if I made you feel weird about it. Or if I said something wrong that made you think I wouldn’t accept you. I’m sorry, Yoongi.”
“No, don’t be sorry.”
Jungkook’s eyes get wider, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s hard,” Yoongi responds plainly, “but you know that. And it didn’t seem important. I don’t really get a lot of crushes or want romance very often. And I’d didn’t want you to think differently of me. We were becoming friends and I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“You wouldn’t have scared me. If anything, it probably would have been the opposite. I would have asked you a bunch of awkward questions as I tried to figure out what the fuck I was feeling.”
“That would’ve been okay, I wish I could’ve done that for you.”
“It’s okay,” Jungkook frowns. “I figured it out anyway.”
Silence takes a seat at the table. Yoongi checks the time and Jungkook clears their empty baskets. They should probably head back soon, but Yoongi doesn’t want to. (His head is spinning and his heart is thudding and he still hasn’t caught his breath from the revelation that Jungkook isn’t straight and how this changes—how this changes nothing. Because there’s nothing to be changed.)
“Yoongi,” Jungkook begins as he sits back down. “Can I tell you something else?”
Yoongi nods.
And he has to admit his curiously is piqued. While he’s known all his friends since middle school, he didn’t actually meet Jungkook until the beginning of this school year. He’d been in a different district, and had just moved here. Having a new student senior year was exciting to begin with, but he fit right in with Yoongi and his friends seamlessly. Almost like they’d been waiting for him to arrive all this time.
He bickered with Jin, played games with Taehyung, went out with Jimin, worked out with Hoseok, studied with Namjoon, and talked to Yoongi. He fell in place like the last piece of the puzzle and Yoongi couldn’t help but notice him more than he’d noticed anyone in years. Liked Jungkook’s laugh, his smile, his wrinkly nose and eyes. His never ending hunger and his height. How considerate he was towards others and how he was a big, big, goofball. But Jungkook never talks about his family. About why he moved here to begin with. About why he’s choosing a school far away and to study something that’s not his true passion when he had so many other choices.
“I like you. I really like you. When I saw those girls all I thought about was how I’d rather be spending time with you. I know it’s shitty of me to say this, but I like you so much, Yoongi.”
Yoongi tries to speak but he can’t. He sniffs, emotions swelling and tears already falling to his cheeks.
“Don’t say that,” Yoongi chokes out.
“Yoongi,” Jungkook whispers in worry, “Yoongi, I’m sorry.”
Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s wrists from across the table and squeezes them.
“No, no, no,” Yoongi babbles, “No. Jungkook-ah. Fuck, I like you too. But I never thought you—“
Jungkook seems to get an electric jolt up his arms, his fingers tightening on Yoongi, and then he’s crying too. (And Yoongi’s never seen him cry.)
“Yoongi, what?”
“I do, and I’m sorry too.”
They sit in the booth with tears streaming down their faces. The horrible truth of it all is that it doesn’t matter that they like each other, because it’s time to say goodbye.
Sure. They have a few months of summer break before school begins, but that time doesn’t really count. Whether they part ways then or now they’re still leaving each other’s sides. Still have growing up to do and still will have different paths their schooling and careers take them down. Yoongi cries because now that it’s started he can’t stop it.
“Yoongi. I love you.”
It’s hard to believe this is real. That Jungkook just said that. That any of this is happening.
“We can’t,” Yoongi says under his breath, “you know we can’t.”
“I know. But I wanted to tell you and I never thought you’d actually—“
“Of course I feel the same way,” Yoongi looks up at his friend, “Of course I do. I thought it was obvious.”
“No, it wasn’t obvious,” Jungkook almost, almost, scowls.
“I don’t know what to say,” Yoongi admits dumbly, “I didn’t think this would happen.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
Yoongi shakes his head, wipes the back of his hand under his eyes, “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t matter. Even if I had told you at homecoming, or at Christmas, it would always turn out like this. Saying goodbye.”
“But shouldn’t we enjoy the little moments of happiness we have?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, “but doesn’t that make it harder in the end?”
“Maybe,” Jungkook softens, “But with you, I don’t think I mind.”
“Jungkook.”
“I mean it. I know I’ve been confusing, I’ve been confused, and even though I knew how I felt all along and denied it, I’m not denying it now.”
Yoongi is at a loss. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. It’s too much. If things were different then maybe this would be the happiest moment of his life (the most beautiful moment in life), but it feels like getting dunked in cold water. Like being woken up from a dream to find himself in prison. It’s brutal. He’s pictured dates and kisses and phone calls and perfect, simple, domesticity with Jungkook. Craved it. But—those were daydreams. Yoongi never thought they could come true. Knew that even if his feelings were reciprocated that they still couldn’t.
~
They leave the restaurant in silence. Cross the street with a foot between them, aren’t laughing when they sneak back in through the front door. Their friends shout and grin when they spot them, don’t even question where they were.
Seokjin is still playing Guitar Hero, he’s been named the reigning champion. Taehyung drags Jungkook away to play some VR game, and Yoongi sits on the floor across from Namjoon.
Namjoon has his makeup kit open, matching a foundation to Yoongi’s skin tone and then dabbing it over Yoongi’s face before blending it in with powders and concealer and other things Yoongi doesn’t know the name of.
“What happened?” Namjoon asks quietly.
“Jungkook told me something,” Yoongi says, unable to keep it back. But he’s had a little bit of time to process now, and Namjoon is who he understands stuff best with. “He likes me.”
Namjoon hums, swiping a fluffy brush over Yoongi’s forehead and cheeks.
“And I told him I like him too. And we just, I don’t know, cried. And kind of argued? But not really.”
“What were you arguing about?” Namjoon accepts his story without judgement, not a single note of surprise in his voice.
“If it’s worth it, I guess.”
“Worth what?”
“Worth getting our hearts broken for a few months of good times.”
Namjoon holds a color palette up beside Yoongi’s face, glancing back and forth between the two with a small crease in his brow.
“And what do you think?”
“I think we should rip the band aid off now. And he thinks we should try.”
“What are you scared of?” Namjoon asks. And that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What’s Yoongi so scared of that he won’t enjoy the time they have to be together?
“Falling in love and never falling out. It’s already hard enough knowing I won’t see him all the time when he moves away. If I get too invested in the idea of us I think it could hurt too much. I might never get over it.”
“And you think he will? You think it’s any easier for him?” Namjoon raises a brow.
Yoongi’s brain screeches to a halt, “No.”
“Okay. Then maybe this isn’t so bad, you know? You’re in it together whether you want to be or not. You’re gonna have to talk this out. And maybe, you know, maybe you don’t ever have to say goodbye. Maybe this is just the beginning of something new.”
Yoongi’s considers this as eyeshadow gets painted on his lids, sticky gloss on his lips, and highlighter on his nose and cheekbones.
~
Despite everything that’s happened, or maybe because of it, Yoongi and Jungkook still sit next to each other on the ride back.
It’s quieter than before. But Jungkook still leans up against him, and they smile at each other.
The giddiness of exhaustion makes an appearance as they reach the school, it’s practically dawn, five in the morning, and everyone is sleep deprived. Yoongi feels excited knowing Jungkook likes him back. He’s hyperaware of the other’s every move, but it’s in a good way. In a way that makes Yoongi cling to him as they file off the bus.
“Let’s watch the sunset guys!” Taehyung yells, blinking sleepily.
“Don’t you mean sunrise?” Seokjin chides, but follows him down the path to the football field.
Jungkook and Yoongi walk close together, because they truly can’t stay mad at each other for very long. And it’s not like they were even mad before—just overwhelmed by the shock of it all. The potential in the air between them. The questions about everything they’ve done together that their confessions raise. What did it mean when Yoongi slept in Jungkook’s lap? Or when Jungkook spent the night at his house? Or when they spent homecoming in the corner of the gym talking for three hours straight, even though the music was unbearably loud.
But these aren’t questions for now.
Yoongi understands what Jungkook meant now.
They have to cherish these moments of happiness, or else, what are they?
They all sit in a lopsided circle on the turf. Talking about freshmen year, about middle school, about meeting each other and their past arguments. They talk about Jungkook and how he became their friend this year, about the teachers and people they will miss. How school will never be the same again.
And it turns out, they all have the same fears Yoongi’s been carrying with him all day. Scared of loneliness and isolation and disconnecting from each other. Terrified of making bad decisions, or being unable to find friends. Or scared of making new friends, because they love their group of seven too much to want anything else.
“What’s something you wish you had done in high school that you never got to?” Namjoon asks them.
“Won the National Dance finals,” Hoseok says, “That would have been nice. We all worked so hard but couldn’t quite beat the rest. I guess I’ll just have to work harder to be one of the best.”
“You already are,” Jimin smiles. “I wish I had eaten more junk food. I’ve been trying to be the best too, but I feel deprived of fried chicken and cake.”
Seokjin laughs, clapping, “Jiminie lets go get donuts after this!”
“Yes!” Jimin sits up straighter in the grass. “Can we? Please, don’t play.”
“I’m serious, let’s do it.”
“Okay,” Jimin grins, “Yes.”
“I wish I had spent more time with you guys,” Namjoon frowns, “I spent so much time on school work and practicing makeup at my mom’s salon that I didn’t hang out with you as much as I wanted to. I feel like there’s memories you all have that I just...don’t,” he rubs his thigh and smiles sheepishly.
Taehyung leans over and hugs him tight, “It’s okay, Joonie. You were following your passions. We love you for that.”
The sun has risen over the horizon by now, but the sky is cloudy and there isn’t much to see in the sky besides the soft light and cool breeze stirring tree branches, lush with freshly bloomed leaves and flowers.
“I wish I had been more vulnerable with you all,” Jungkook whispers, “I kept all my feelings inside while you all talked about important things. I ignored my own stuff because I didn’t want to contribute to your worries. But now I wish I had been more honest about being stressed or tired or whatever, because I think you could have helped even more. You already did help so much without even trying, but—you know what I mean.”
“Ah, Kookie,” Jimin massages a hand over Jungkook’s back. “It’s never too late. We’re always gonna be here for you.”
“Thanks.”
Jimin nods.
Taehyung speaks next, “I wish I had taken more pictures. We all did so much, and sometimes we just sat around on our phones, but all of that was special. I wish I had pictures to look back on of all of it.”
“Me too,” Jungkook hums.
“Send me any pictures you guys have of us together,” Taehyung requests, and they all nod.
“I think I was too afraid of trying new things,” Seokjin tells them, “I stayed within my comfort zone for most of my high school. I became someone else on stage but never told my own story very well, and didn’t always let myself care about projects we were working on in classes. I wish I had done more and dived deeper, but I also think I grew a lot. You guys helped me own up and have confidence on stage. I appreciate you all so much.”
Hoseok looks at Seokjin with teary eyes and they exchange sad smiles.
“I feel like mine is so dumb compared to all yours,” Yoongi huffs out a laugh, his friends turning to look at him. “It’s so inconsequential, it literally doesn’t matter at all. But from watching TV and movies and stuff when I was younger, I had expectations of high school and then they weren’t met at all. I thought in high school I’d have a bunch of new things happen to me, but there’s not really cliques or mean girls or gossip like they want you to believe there is. I guess adults just want to show that teens are stupid and make bad decisions,” he snorts.
“And what do you wish you had done?” Namjoon pushes.
“Ah, that,” Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, feeling himself blush hard. He picks at the fake grass and refuses to make eye contact as he says, “I wish I’d had my first kiss.”
No one laughs.
“Me too,” Namjoon says.
Yoongi looks up at him, then another voice comes from his left.
“Me three,” Jungkook agrees.
Yoongi’s heart skips a beat.
“You never kissed any of the girls you hung out with?” Seokjin asks, blissfully unaware of everything that’s happened tonight. Or—this morning? Whatever, whenever.
“Er, no,” Jungkook hedges, biting his bottom lip and then looking around the group. Yoongi holds his breath as Jungkook opens his mouth again, “Actually. Um. I’m actually, um—“
“Oh my god!” Jimin squeals, shaking Taehyung by the shoulders, “It’s happening!”
Jungkook shakes his head, embarrassed, “Stop that. You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“We do!” Jimin insists, and then calms himself down, “Sorry. Please continue.”
“I’m gay,” Jungkook says and Jimin smiles so wide his eyes disappear.
There’s a general sound of affirmations and validations and Jin teasing Jungkook about his own handsome face and it’s a good moment. A moment Yoongi never had because he never came out right and said it. But still, this somehow is enough. Feels like all the confirmation he felt from them over the years is being voiced now, acceptance and support and, most importantly, love. Good and pure.
“Ah, Kookie, I’m so proud of you!” Jimin says.
“You didn’t say anything, Yoongs,” Hoseok notices, “Did he already tell you?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi smiles, and meets Jungkook’s eyes. Their gaze is full of warmth and comfort. The same love, good and pure.
“Oh!” Taehyung chirps, “You guys aren’t—“ Namjoon elbows him hard, shutting him up.
But the question lingers even if it is unvoiced.
And no one pushes it any further.
They lie in the fake grass. Reminiscing a little more and thinking about how it’s Monday, and in an hour students will be arriving for classes. They wish they’d done a senior prank, or something special for their class. They think about how much they’re not gonna miss the cafeteria food, but will miss the street food that’s located only a couple blocks away. Vendor after vendor selling soba and skewers and boba. Rich smells and fruity smells and good smells all around. A haven for a hungry high schooler.
Jimin and Seokjin leave with Taehyung, planning to go donuts and coffee at a café just down the street. Namjoon and Hoseok leave soon after, nearly stumbling as they stand, completely run down from their long night. At this point, going on nearly 24 hours of no sleep. They stomp across the football field, and Yoongi watches them turn into small figures in the distance.
Then it’s just Yoongi and Jungkook.
Yoongi looks over at him. Jungkook sitting cross legged, hands flat in the plastic grass and dark hoody hanging around him. His hair is parted oddly and blowing slightly in the wind, his eyes soft with sleepiness and lips curved into a slight smile. Yoongi exhales deeply. His body feels weird. Sort of like how it does after three shots of espresso or a nasty energy drink.
“Yoongi,” Jungkook says out of nowhere, moving closer so they’re sitting across from one another. “It’s not too late, you know.”
“For what?”
“To fulfill you high school wish.”
Yoongi blushes, looking at his lap.
“We’re still in high school as long as we’re at the grad party, and this is just an extension of the grad party. We’re even at school.”
“You fulfilled your wish tonight, Jungkook,” Yoongi replies, ignoring the other’s implications.
“How?”
“You were vulnerable with me, and with the others.”
“Maybe,” Jungkook shrugs, “but it feels too late.”
“It’s never too late,” Yoongi argues, and realizes he’s just dug himself into a deeper ditch. One that Jungkook won’t let him crawl out of alone.
“Does that mean you want to then?”
“Want to what?” Yoongi feigns ignorance, hoping Jungkook won’t have the guts to say it out loud.
“Kiss me, while we’re still in high school.”
“I don’t know,” Yoongi tells him, and it’s true. He doesn’t know. His heart is pounding in his chest.
“I want to kiss you,” Jungkook confesses, And Yoongi doesn’t understand how he can say it so easily, after all these months of keeping the truth buried inside. Maybe it’s all spilling out now, overflowing and a little desperate to cling onto something they’ve never experienced before. Clutch tight to their youth before it’s ripped away and the cruel world eats them and their dreams for dinner.
“But we obviously don’t have to,” Jungkook continues, “It’s just—I thought maybe—if we can’t have anything else, we could have this. Be each other’s first. I don’t want to ever forget you Yoongi, and you make me feel so understood, and comfortable, and like I want to talk. But even now, I’m still not so good with my words.”
“You’re amazing with your words,” Yoongi glares at him, and Jungkook lets out a short laugh. Like he doesn’t believe Yoongi.
“What I mean is, for me, touching things is my closure. When I moved here I touched all the walls in my old house. When my—my brother died I touched his headstone—“ Yoongi’s mouth falls open, because he didn’t know that’s what happened, didn’t know, and Yoongi wished Jungkook had told him— “and I said good bye to my old life by keeping a box of all the important things, and I touch them to remember and hide them to forget. But. Kissing you for me would be like, like, like saying good bye.”
“Okay,” Yoongi agrees before he can think it through. There’s no one he’d rather do this with, no one he trusts more, Jungkook is the only person he’s ever felt like this about.
He scoots closer, places his hands on Jungkook’s knees and uses his arms to lift his torso up slightly, getting them eye level with each other. Jungkook moves slowly, a hand curling in Yoongi’s hair. His eyes are glittering, and Yoongi can feel a hole being burned in his chest. It hurts, but Yoongi wants this more than he ever imagined now that he knows it’s possible. And Jungkook is right. It’s something akin to closure.
They press their foreheads together, Jungkook’s soft skin brushing against Yoongi’s. He’s even more beautiful this close up. He’s warm and radiating kindness, compassion, and a deep sadness.
Yoongi never thought he’d fall in love. Still isn’t quite sure if that’s what this is, but if he had to name the feeling the moment their lips met, he’d call it euphoria.
Euphoria.
Like the sunset being a magnificent, watercolor pink, before plunging the world into darkness.
Fleeting, full-bodied happiness. Lips careful, faces close, nothing that special. Brief, but seeming to carry the universe in the moment they touch. Jungkook’s mouth tastes like chapstick, and wings, and Yoongi’s sure he’s not much better off. His heart is in his throat and his palms are clammy. It’s too much, and he pulls away.
And then it crashes. The euphoria is yanked out from underneath him and there’s only this to fill the space: Yoongi’s aching heart, the tears he’s holding back, the future that’s as unknown as the ocean’s waters.
A terrible emptiness is taking Jungkook’s place in Yoongi’s soul. Because even if they’re right here next to each other, holding onto one another, their paths have already diverged. Yoongi walking one direction, while Jungkook goes another.
“Yoongi,” Jungkook whispers into his shoulder where he’s resting his head, “I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Never stop making music,” Jungkook says, and Yoongi feels a wave of emotion crash over him (like a tsunami), and starts to sniffle into The crook of Jungkook’s neck, gripping tight to his sweater. “Yoongi, I know you said you can’t study it in school because you’re scared you’ll learn to hate it, or that your parents will be pissed at you, but you’re so good at it, okay? Your lyrics are so moving, and you make such incredible instrumentals even with the bare minimum equipment you have. Please, Yoongi, please follow your passions. You’re—“
That’s the thing too, though. Yoongi’s parents didn’t go to college, and now they’re expecting him to. He grew up with mixed messages. His parents enrolling him in an arts high school, but then turning around two years later to tell him he needed to score high on entrance exams if he had any chance at becoming a doctor. An accountant. A lawyer, a businessman, an analyst, anything that wasn’t an artist. He’d thought they’d wanted him to pursue his passions, but it turns out all they all want is for him to make money. For him to do the things they never did.
So he is. Or, he’s going to try. He studied and got high enough scores that SNU is covering his tuition, but they’re not offering aid for a dorm. So he’s gonna live at home. Work to make his parents proud. Work to show them that their sacrifices over the years have paid off. Because even if Yoongi had been able to submit portfolios to art schools and apprenticeships and production companies, there’s no knowing what would have come of it. He could have flopped. Been rejected. And Yoongi’s scared of failure, almost more than anything else.
And part of him is starting to believe that it’s better to be safe, to get a college degree, get a normal job, and try to make time for hobbies on the side.
Yoongi doesn’t even know what his dream would be if he had tried harder to pursue music. He doesn’t really have a dream chase after. Doesn’t see a rainbow he wants to follow to a pot of gold. There is no dream—not for him—there’s just small things. Small moments. Glimpses of happiness. Flashes of euphoria.
And now Jungkook’s crying too, and wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s waist to hug him tight, “You’re amazing, and I love you so much.”
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut.
And hopes this moment lasts forever.