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What if things worked out?
With every possibility that things don’t work out and take the wrong turn, also exists the possibility that things do work out. In which there is this life that Yoongi once imagined and dreamed of, this ideal life where he’s happy and content and truly at peace with himself and what is beyond his control; a life without feeling the looming need and overbearing sensation to be in control of everything.
All Hoseok had asked then, a seemingly simple question it had seemed at the moment, was:
“Have you been sleeping okay?”
To have Yoongi immediately in tears.
“Not really, but thank you for asking.”
—
For a good five to ten years, everything within Yoongi was like a storm that had just picked up speed, whirling all that was within reach, and all that was just nearly out of reach, into the roaring mess that he eventually learned to put up with every single day of his life because he has to keep living. It’s not the ideal way for anyone to live by any means, and he knows that too. He knows it very well.
Knowing is a start; being aware might just be the first and most important step to moving forward. But, being and feeling like you are stuck and trapped makes everything that much harder. How do you move forward when you’re rooted in place by the very things that make up your existence? How do you look ahead when it’s pitch-black darkness and nothing else in sight? How and where do you even begin to walk towards when you don’t even have the energy to crawl?
His new medication is messing with him, bad. His hands are trembling, his whole body is shaking, shivering. He wakes up multiple times in the middle of the night in cold sweat feeling like his body is being set on fire while metal clamps press in on both sides of his head. His throat feels parched, and when he manages to use whatever energy is left in his floppy and numb limbs to get up, he’s hit with another wave of dizziness and blurred vision.
The oasis in this vast desert is but an illusion.
It will get better, Yoongi thinks – tries to convince himself – that this is the known part of the process. It’s all part of the process of getting better, of feeling better, of finally feeling more grounded and himself. Or so he hopes. Yoongi really does hope so.
All he has left is to hope.
The chemicals in his brain are doing things he can’t understand. The feeling is weird and new and different. He’s not so sure he likes it. He’s not so sure this is normal, but then again, what does he know about being normal ? And while it feels like it’s never-ending and uncomfortable to say the least, he still wants to believe that everything will eventually balance out and find a more comfortable equilibrium where he can function without feeling plagued by what feels like a thick fog that won’t clear out.
—
How Hoseok and Yoongi ended up together isn’t the result of some miraculous meeting. They wouldn’t really call it that, anyway. Sometimes they joke and laugh about it, reminisce over their days as young college students, remember all the nights they stayed up together just to watch “cleaning my fish tank” videos because they were both going through a rough time, for different reasons, but feeling the pain and sadness together nonetheless.
“Do you think humans are born to be sad?” Hoseok had asked one night, while his head rested on Yoongi’s lap.
“Maybe, but then we find reasons to be happy, we find our own little joys despite the inevitable,” Yoongi says. “If that makes any sense.”
“I think it does,” Hoseok agrees, and Yoongi hums, runs his fingers through Hoseok’s hair.
They sort of just ended up together eventually, like the river flowing into the sea. It sounds pretty simple, and maybe it was, still is. All ups and downs included, and considering the part of the equation of being in a relationship with another human being you love and care about is sharing space, sharing words, sharing ideas only to disagree on them, they’d both agree that maybe the good and right kind of love comes easy and free of constant, piercing pain. That the good kind of love is, well, good.
—
The fog clears up a little over time, with time. Surely.
Still, Yoongi breaks his bowl first thing in the morning and spills cereal and milk all over the kitchen floor because he woke up with shaky hands that just refuse to calm down. A fuzzy brain and weak-feeling limbs that seem to act on their own, not at all listening to his commands. It’s been tough. It’s always been tough, but this is a different kind of tough that he’s never experienced before. And as we know it, the unknown is scary, and not many people willingly jump into the unknown with pure excitement and joy.
Yoongi clenches and unclenches his fists, does that multiple times as he slowly counts to ten in his head. His body is trembling so much that he can feel the blood pulsing through his veins, can feel the thump thump thump of his heart beating against his chest, feels it in his eardrums, feels it in his clenched fists.
He’s not cold, but his teeth are chattering. He’s not hot, but he’s sweating profusely.
It’s not the first time Yoongi’s felt like the world has been turned upside down, but this is a whole different area of unknown and unfamiliar that’s literally and metaphorically and chemically messing with his head.
He hasn’t mentioned this to anyone, and maybe he should. He probably really should tell someone about this rather than just keeping it to himself and dealing with it by himself, the way he always does and always has. It was never his intention to keep this a secret, he just wasn’t planning to bring it up, especially not to his family. And anyone else, Yoongi didn’t exactly feel the need to let them know, so out of the blue.
But at this point, he feels like he might be going crazy, he feels like he might actually be losing his mind by the second. To feel this way, to feel so overwhelmingly wired and buzzed and exhausted at the same time, and having almost no control over his hands and feet and his entire body at this stage, feels more than just a little scary and concerning even though he knows that most of it is pretty normal and nothing uncommon.
Still, when your mind and body are both going through what seems like earthquake after earthquake, it’s hard not to feel alarmed and worried.
At this point in time, Yoongi is in his last year of university, and Hoseok a year below. They’ve been friends since Hoseok’s first year and Yoongi’s second. Though a year apart, they hung around the same circle for the most part because of their shared interest in environmental science.
They’re close, maybe not best friends in the BFF best friends forever type of way, but they’re close and they’ve spent quite a bit of time together throughout the years. Neither of them have brought up anything beyond their friendship, and neither of them have mentioned anything about the potential of being more, but Yoongi knows he can trust and depend on Hoseok, and Hoseok can say the same about Yoongi.
That’s why, the first and perhaps only person Yoongi felt like he could tell and talk to and be open about this is naturally Hoseok, whom Yoongi knows will not judge or make fun of him or dismiss him for something like this.
If there’s anything Yoongi has no doubts about, it’s Hoseok.
—
“You okay? You sound a little distressed,” Hoseok notes, calm but concerned.
And the thing is, Yoongi hasn’t explain what exactly is going on with him, hasn’t brought up the whole medication thing or any of how and what he’s experiencing because of it, yet all he had to do was call Hoseok and say hello to have the younger picking up the call in no time and picking up the change in Yoongi’s voice.
“Do you have time? I wanna talk to you about something,” Yoongi tries to sound steady and normal , but right now, he’s anything but. “Doesn’t have to be right now, but just- If you’re free, I kinda need to talk to you.”
“Sure,” Hoseok responds with no hesitation. “Of course, Yoongi. I can meet you outside C Block on campus in ten?”
“Okay, yeah. Thank you, see you soon.”
“Of course.”
It’s a quiet Thursday afternoon, and Yoongi waited four whole days to finally muster up the courage to tell Hoseok, calling knowing that neither of them have class on Thursday afternoons, not wanting to disturb Hoseok even though he feels like no matter what or how he ends up telling him, there will be a disturbance – slight or not – in their relationship. One way or another.
Logically, and emotionally too, Yoongi knows that he doesn’t have to feel this tense and stressed out and anxious, but there are things he can’t really help but to feel, reactions he can’t really help but to experience as a response to being the way he is.
He’s pacing back and forth the entrance of C Block, which is the midpoint between their accommodations and thus their usual meeting point. Yoongi can’t seem to stay calm whatsoever, and all the pacing is just making his heart race even further, exacerbating the adrenalin and shakiness he’s already experiencing at an extreme level compared to usual.
He needs to relax, and calm down. He needs to slow down, and probably sit down. So he does just that, sits down on the bench outside the building, counts the seconds he breathes in, counts the seconds he breathes out, tries to guess the shapes in the clouds, holds onto his thighs to stop his legs from shaking, shakes his head to get rid of the dizziness, sits on his hands to stop them from trembling, looks up when Hoseok calls out to him–
“Yoongi, hey,” Hoseok’s voice isn’t as loud and bubbly as usual. It’s the voice he uses when he senses a serious conversation, when he feels a change in the atmosphere, when he thinks – knows – that Yoongi has something important to tell him. “How are you feeling?”
Yoongi has always found that detail interesting about Hoseok. The way he asks how you’re feeling rather than what you’re doing, the way his tone becomes serious but not intimidating when he knows something is up after reading the room, reading between the lines, attentive always.
He takes a seat beside Yoongi, and they exchange smiles so genuine and understanding even without words being said. Yoongi is more of a words person, whether it’s through reading, writing, or talking, despite how anxiety can get the best of him during conversations, he’s very much a words person. But when he looks at Hoseok, when he’s with Hoseok, that’s when he comes to understand that actions often times do, in fact, speak louder than words, that actions are capable of speaking volumes on their own.
“Hi,” Yoongi says a little belatedly, without answering the question about how he’s feeling, but Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind much, just smiles again, reassuring, grounding, speaking volumes. “Thanks for coming.”
“For you, anything, you know that,” Hoseok says simply, yet it sounds more like a promise than anything.
Yoongi is sure that Hoseok can see the nervousness on his face, can notice the shakiness in his hands, can feel the restlessness easing out of his body, but he’s not pointing it out, he’s not drawing any attention to it. And for that, Yoongi is grateful, always grateful for Hoseok. That being said, Yoongi still needs to tell Hoseok. That’s the whole reason he called Hoseok in the first place. That’s the whole point of them meeting up so suddenly. That’s the whole point of this, yet now that the time has come, Yoongi is at a loss for how exactly to phrase things.
“I feel like absolute shit,” Yoongi blurts out, because that is how he feels. He adds, “right now. I feel like utter crap right now, like my body is being set on fire then dunked in an ice bath all at the same time. I feel so dizzy and light-headed and every time i sit up or stand, the whole ground spins and I have to sit back down and close my eyes for a while. I can feel my whole body vibrating, my hands, my legs, my eyes, everything. I say right now, because I hope that’s just a ‘right now’ or ‘for the time being’ type of thing when it comes to being on antidepressants. I guess that’s what I wanted to tell you– that I’m on medication for my mental health, for my damn brain, and it’s messing with my head right now, and I felt like I needed to tell someone, and you’re the one person I trust the most, so here we are. That was a lot. This is a lot.”
“It sure is a lot, and it’s okay that it’s a lot. I’m fine with that. I’m sorry you’re going through so much though, that sounds terrible,” Hoseok empathizes. “But I’m glad you’re getting help, and I hope this uncomfortable phase will be over soon and you feel better soon too.” Hoseok makes sure to also say, “thanks for telling me, and you can tell me more – or not at all – if you want, yeah? If there’s anything I can do, I’d be more than happy and willing to.”
“Thanks, that means a lot,” Yoongi wishes that for someone who considers themselves as a words over actions person, he’d have more eloquent and meaningful words of gratitude to express. But he’s really going through a lot, and to demand his brain to do that right now just wouldn’t work no matter how hard he tries to squeeze his brain for better word choice and phrasing. “Thank you, really.”
“For you, anything.”
—
Winter break began, but rain has been falling – pouring – down the sky nonstop since then, too. There hasn’t been a day when the sun came out, when the skies were clear and blue. Just gray on top of gray, layers and layers of dark, heavy clouds harboring even heavier raindrops that so generously give and give.
Everyone’s been cooped up in their homes, only going out when necessary, only going out for work or groceries and heading back right after as to not get drenched within seconds of stepping foot outdoors. Hoseok and Yoongi are no different from the rest of the college students, choosing to stay indoors, safe and dry and away from the harsh rain and even harsher winds in addition to the freezing cold that late December brings. It will probably start snowing soon.
Hoseok is over at Yoongi’s apartment on most days now that they don’t have classes to attend, and with the great timing of having a thunderstorm overlap with winter vacation, all their plans of being in the outdoors and enjoying nature are now down the drain. Which, is not the worst thing in the world, considering all Hoseok wants to do is to spend time with Yoongi, outdoors or not.
“Yoongi,” Hoseok gently tap tap taps the older’s legs when he hasn’t responded to his own name after the third call. “You doing okay there?”
“Oh,” Yoongi finally turns to Hoseok when tapped. “What was that? Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Hoseok smiles. “Just wondering if you’re okay.”
“Yeah, was just a little lost in thought, but I’m okay,” he reaches for Hoseok’s hand, gives it a squeeze then. “Are you?”
“I am,” Hoseok returns the gesture easily. “Can I give you a hug?”
Endearing, sweet, kind, understanding, wonderful, beautiful, are just the very few words amongst millions of more that Yoongi can think of to describe Hoseok and all the good that he embodies and brings to the world. There have been countless of times in the years that they’ve known each other that Yoongi has felt this ever-growing and expanding love he has for Hoseok, and that’s something he has never questioned. Just like right now, there’s no questioning, doubting, or second-guessing how much he adores Hoseok.
“Of course. Come here,” Yoongi turns to Hoseok and opens his arms for Hoseok to fit himself right against Yoongi’s chest, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s solid frame, resting his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder.
“I really love you, Yoongi,” Hoseok whispers, now that they’re so close, and there’s nothing and no one to disturb them. Just them and the sound of raindrops landing on the windowpane, just them and the sound of their calm breathing, just them and the low humming of the heater, just them and the steady thump thump thump of their hearts inches apart. Just them, and the world.
Just them, and this world and all the bumps in the road that they will get through together. Side by side. Hoseok and Yoongi. Yoongi and Hoseok.
"And I really love you."