Work Text:
Jungkook tries not to think of it.
But it’s hard.
So hard…
Because he can feel the shape of Hoseok’s body under his hands. The subtle shift of his muscles as he moves accordingly.
Ah… Jungkook thinks.
I didn’t even know you could move your body like that…
Like he’s made of water.
Like he’s made of light.
Like he’s not real.
Under Jungkook’s hands. So close Jungkook can breathe him in.
It’s… curious… how he can feel the way Hoseok moves under his hands. The way his body flows, and shifts. The weight of him against his palms. The residual touch of him against his fingertips.
Brief. And there. And solid.
Ever changing.
He can feel so much. Every little movement.
Every muscle fiber connected to every bone.
It ripples. The way the muscles under a tiger’s pelt ripple in the sunlight.
The way life ripples underneath the surface of every living thing.
Jungkook wants to touch him more.
Hold him closer.
Feel the heat of him, the weight of him against him.
Again and again, as they practice the choreography again and again Jungkook feels Hoseok under his hands and again and again Jungkook wants to—
He’s so beautiful.
Hoseok is so beautiful.
Again, Jungkook is reminded of... Of who he is. Of where he stands.
Of what he’s doing.
What he’s thinking.
And again, they practice, again and again and again.
Jungkook starts at his armpits, can feel the close heat of Hoseok’s body.
Again, he feels the tautness of his teres minor. The way it holds steady, unyielding.
His hands move down, briefly on his latissimus dorsi, can feel the way it starts to give—the way it starts bending— reaching— the same way he reaches for Hoseok’s hand when he sees it empty.
He can feel Hoseok’s ribs under his hands, can feel the strands of the anterior serratus under each fingertip. Can feel the way they expand and contract like little waves against him.
Like Hoseok is strong.
Like he’s powerful.
He’s at his waist.
His… small... small waist…
Can feel the length of Hoseok’s external oblique. Can feel the flexibility of it. The soft layer of skin on top of the firm, stability of it.
He wants to pull Hoseok closer to him.
Wants Hoseok to feel the way Jungkook’s heart is pounding in his chest from exertion.
Wants Hoseok to feel the heat of his breath against his skin and know it’s because of him.
Wants—
His hands fall, to his hips, and his grip is loose.
He doesn’t want it to be loose.
He wants to hold Hoseok tightly.
Wants to pull Hoseok closer to him.
Wants to hold him close.
Wants to hold him.
Feel the heat of Hoseok against him. The strength in his body built from years of dance and a flexibility no one can compare to.
He wants to feel the beating of Hoseok’s heart against his hand. Against his cheek.
He wants to fall asleep to the sound of it.
“JK? You okay?” He’s breathing hard. They all are. But Hoseok is looking at him with mild concern, and when Jungkook makes eye contact with him he wants to answer with—
I’m in love with you.
I want to kiss you.
I want to hug you.
I want to love you.
I want to be with you.
He inhales—
But he can’t.
He blinks the sweat out of his eyes, and says, “Yeah. I’m okay, hyung.”
He has Hoseok.
Even if not a lover.
He has him in his life.
He is someone he trusts.
Someone he respects.
Someone he cherishes.
Someone he lives with.
Someone he is able to love—
And even though his heart beats Hoseok Hoseok Hoseok—
He’d rather keep this version of him than lose him all together.
“Hey, hyung.”
“Hm?”
I love you.
“I love you.” He says.
Hoseok blinks, and then laughs. “I love you too.” He says, ruffling Jungkook’s sweaty hair.
I love you more, Jungkook thinks.
I love you more, Jungkook wants to say.
I love you more, Jungkook doesn’t say.