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“What are these for?” Jungkook plucks Hoseok’s glasses smooth off his face, lifting them up towards the ceiling lights and squinting as he looks through the glass. “You need glasses now, hyung?”
“You know I don’t,” Hoseok replies with a whine, pouting when Jungkook places them on the shelf before coming to join him on the couch. “It’s just…” Hoseok cards his fingers through his hair, suddenly self-conscious of how short it is now. “It feels like there’s something missing ever since I cut my hair– it might be because I’ve had it long for quite a while. It feels weird now that it’s gone; and it’s like I have to add something to compensate–” Hoseok flutters his hands about in the air, feeling a soft flush bloom on his cheeks as it strikes him how silly he must be sounding right now. “I’m probably making zero sense, sorry–”
“No, don't worry, that makes sense, hyung…” Jungkook shakes his head, sighing as he finally takes a seat next to Hoseok. He drapes his arm around the couch, heat emanating from where his fingers graze against Hoseok’s shoulders. A feather’s touch, but something that scorches into Hoseok’s skin, a grounding heat that he will miss.
“You don’t need it here though,” Jungkook continues, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. The tension leaves his body and it feels as if he’s melting into the couch, melting beside Hoseok. Slowly, he peels his eyes open and glances sideways at Hoseok, smile small and meek, lip ring glinting under the light. “You don’t need to put in any extra effort when you're with me, hyung.”
All Hoseok can do is nod in reply, unsure how he’s supposed to react– unsure if he’s supposed to react at all if he were to give it some thought; what is he supposed to do when he doesn’t know how to read into that? Doesn’t know if there’s anything to read into, in the first place. “Yeah,” he says instead. “I know that, Jungkookie.”
“Mmm.” Jungkook hums, nudging Hoseok with this thigh, grinning when Hoseok shakes his head. Quirking a brow in question, Jungkook mutters, “What?”
“You’re such a kid,” Hoseok says with a soft chuckle, and that somehow manages to get a rise out of Jungkook.
“Am not,” Jungkook mutters, nudging Hoseok’s knee with enough force to make him yelp out and nearly topple, if not for the firm arm now resting on his shoulder. When Hoseok turns to chide Jungkook, he is met with a frown on Jungkook’s face, his lower lip jutting out and the damn ring twinkling menacingly– Hoseok has half a mind to reach over and tug at it with his teeth, take Jungkook by surprise and reduce him to a blubbering mess.
But he doesn’t… That’s a line they haven’t crossed, not yet, and they won't any time soon.
“Are too,” Hoseok punctuates with a boop on Jungkook’s nose, squeaking in surprise when Jungkook playfully tries nips at his fingertip. “Hey! That’s my finger, not a carrot, bunny boy.” He is putting in visible effort into making things sound light-hearted and casual, and he wonders if Jungkook can see through his little charade.
“Shut up, hyung.” Jungkook’s grinning now, teeth shining as bright as the lip ring, eyes crinkling mirthfully. Mission accomplished, Hoseok thinks, helpless to hold back a mirroring smile of his own.
“You’ll always be a kid to me, Jungkookie... I raised you, remember?” Hoseok preens, reaching out to pull Jungkook’s cheeks, giggling when Jungkook grabs hold of his wrists and protests vehemently. “My baby,” Hoseok coos, feeling the fondness reverberating inside him, filling his chest with so much warmth, so much tenderness.
“Yes, mom,” Jungkook grunts out. But there’s a slight hitch to his voice and it is obvious that he too is so immeasurably fond of Hoseok. There is so much love here, so many different kinds of love– a sort of love that is familiar and comforting, another that is gentle and longing, yet another that can not yet be defined, something that's still slowly moulding into itself, forming its own shape, a little scared even.
There is so much love here and Hoseok will miss it dearly. He will miss Jungkook dearly.
“You know...” Hoseok says, letting his hands go lax, allowing Jungkook to hold them in his, thick thumbs rubbing at the sensitive pulse points of Hoseok’s thin wrists and making little tingles bloom at the contact. Jungkook looks at him in question, lips parted curiously. “I came over because I thought you’d be in LA when I have to enlist.” Hoseok exhales shakily, forcing his smile to go as wide as physically possible. “I came to say goodbye–”
"But I moved my schedule around so that I can come back from LA real quick, hyung,” Jungkook pipes up immediately, his thumbs subconsciously pressing into Hoseok’s wrists and making it hurt just the tiniest bit. “I told you, right? I don't want to miss sending you off; I want to be here for it, no matter what. I'll make sure to be there when you leave, hyung. I would never miss it. I–” Jungkook gulps, his nails digging into Hoseok’s flesh and grating against his bones. “I absolutely have to be there, hyung.”
For a minute, no one speaks. Hoseok’s lips part and he inhales slowly, carefully, feels the air fill his lungs and ground him even as Jungkook’s grip slackens around his wrists. “You’re a good kid, Jaykay,” Hoseok stutters out, trying to keep the magnitude of his feelings at bay, trying not to be overcome by the onslaught of his emotions, trying not to drown in them. “That makes me happy.”
When Jungkook nods, it is slow and gentle. A complete contrast to the spitting fire in his eyes, tumultuous and dizzying, burning in the depths of his irises. He drops Hoseok’s wrists and the wind bites at the spots where he’d pressed too hard, the skin now rendered a tad sensitive. But before Hoseok can start to miss the warmth of his touch, Jungkook is curling himself around Hoseok, just grabbing him by the waist and tucking Hoseok under his chin, tight and secure and comfortable. Familiar– this is familiar territory for them.
This is something they do all the time. Jungkook likes to touch Hoseok, to hold him; and Hoseok likes to be touched, likes to be held. Jungkook likes how Hosoek smells, likes how Hoseok feels in his arms. And Hoseok, in turn, likes how Jungkook smells, likes how it feels to be inside Jungkook’s arms. It’s a win-win situation for the both of them, really.
Something starts to slowly bubble inside Hoseok, something that terrifies him, something that knocks the air right back out of his lungs. There is no time for this, whatever it is, there is no time for uncertainties, no time for half-baked feelings. A familiar lump settles in Hoseok’s throat, something he can’t swallow down, something that’s keeping his inner turmoil bottled up and bubbling, effervescent, ready to burst if he doesn’t nip it before it’s too late.
“Remember– Remember a couple of years ago…” Hoseok stutters out with a forced chuckle, forcing his heartbeat to stay in check, forcing himself to stay in check and continue to act normal around Jungkook. To not cross the line. “Remember when I was thinking of quitting Bangtan and you got so upset when you came to hear? You were crying so much, Koo, and clinging to me, begging me to stay– begging me not to leave you.” Hoseok’s voice mellows and he sighs, the memories from the past misting around him like a cocoon.
“You cried so much that it hurt me just looking at you.” Hoseok gulps, feeling the sting at the corner of his eyes, realising that he’s not doing a very good job of steering the conversation in the right direction. “My cry baby bunny.” He clears his throat and puts on his signature j-hope smile, all straight shiny teeth and fake gusto. “Not gonna cry for hyung this time?”
He regrets it the moment he says it, cringing inwardly, scrunching his eyes shut and groaning under his breath. “Wait that was out of line, I'm sorry, Jungkookie–”
“I’m not a kid anymore, hyung,” Jungkook cuts him off with a low chuckle. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, looking away into the distance, like he’s trying to burn a hole into the darn wall with how intense his gaze is. “Not gonna cry this time,” Jungkook repeats. Only this time, he’s looking at Hoseok with those eyes again, those wide glossy eyes, dark and glazed and unsettling. “I love you so much and I’m gonna miss you so much… but I’m not a kid so … I’m not gonna cry now, hyung.”
“Oh.. okay... alright,” Hoseok whispers, chest squeezing. “I was just messing with you, Koo, you know that, right?” Jungkook nods immediately, head bobbing so harshly that his hair rises up like a dark halo around his head. Hoseok’s smile grows soft and he reaches out to pat Jungkook’s head, curling his fingers into the soft curls. “And I love you too. And I’ll miss you too, my little Jungkookie.”
When Jungkook hugs him, it’s something that happens so organically, with no preamble. One second, he’s carding his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, smiling tenderly at him. The next, Jungkook has his arms wound all the way around him, so suffocatingly tight, like a boa constrictor. Like he doesn’t want to let go of Hoseok. Not now, not ever. And if Hoseok could only let Jungkook have it his way, he would.
But he can’t.
“I should get going now,” Hoseok whispers against Jungkook’s nape, smoothing his hair back and tucking it behind his ear. “You have a flight to catch in the morning. You should get some rest, Koo.”
Jungkook grunts, tightening his arms around Hoseok and making him burst into a soft peal of laughter, hugging Jungkook back through the tight clench of his chest. “Let go, Koo, come on,” Hoseok whispers, nuzzling his nose into the junction where Jungkook’s neck meets his shoulders. "Let me go." Jungkook’s collar slips to the side, revealing the tip of his tattoo sleeve. Hoseok hums, mouthing against it, before trailing little butterfly kisses down Jungkook’s arm and finishing against his fingertips, kissing them one after the other, with reverence, with adoration. Jungkook’s arms are lax now, holding Hoseok within reach, but not trapping him anymore. Even though a treacherous voice inside Hoseok’s head wishes he would– wishes that Jungkook would hold him right here forever, so he wouldn’t have to leave, so they wouldn’t have to part.
“Okay,” Jungkook says, slowly removing himself from Hoseok, as if it pains him to do so. He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His eyes are filled with… something that Hoseok doesn’t want to read into right now. That would be crossing the line he’s steered clear of for so long.
“Okay,” Hoseok parrots, slowly removing himself and nodding sweetly. “I’ll see you on the big day, yeah? Have a safe flight and have a great time in LA.”
Jungkook nods, quiet, looking a little frightened. “Alright, hyung.” he replies, much too chastely. “And don't forget... I'll only be gone for a couple of days. I promise to be back home so damn quick, I swear to god, hyung.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok says, nodding, taking a step back even as he waves goodbye at Jungkook. He turns around, back to Jungkook, sprinting towards the door. Jungkook is right behind him, feet silent against the floor. “Bye–”
“Should I accompany you on your way back?” Jungkook asks when they’re at the door. “It’s not so late that I can’t keep you company–”
“No, it’s fine. I already called for a cab a while ago,” Hoseok lies through his teeth. “Don’t worry about me, Koo. Good night,” he whispers, quickly rising to his tiptoes and pressing a kiss against Jungkook’s cheek, breath catching when he moves too clumsily and his lips meet cold metal– the lip ring! But the touch ends as soon as it had been instigated and Hoseok pulls back, ignoring the audible gasp that Jungkook had let out, ignoring the thundering roar of his heart in his ears. Ignoring the line that’s blurring– glitching– Instead, he smiles and waves goodbye, turning around and sprinting towards the elevator.
Fortunately, the lift opens immediately and he’s able to make his quick escape, face flushed, eyes playing back the scene on loop behind his eyelids. Hoseok places his hand above his chest, waiting for his heart to cool down. The bell announces that he’s reached the basement and he gets out, booking an uber, exhaling shakily when he sees that it’ll arrive in a few minutes, thank god. He’s about to walk over to the lobby when he remembers the pair of glasses he’d left behind.
“Ah shit–” Hoseok groans, swiping his hands down his face and groaning. It’s not like he absolutely needs them back or anything– but he’s going to do a live stream for the fans soon and he doesn’t want to feel self-conscious about his hair. It’s one thing to be himself around Jungkook, but it’s a different story when he’s doing a broadcast for the fans. With a click of his tongue, he turns back around and takes the lift back to Jungkook’s floor. He’s only going to grab his glasses before heading right out. Just a minute or two at most. He hopes Jungkook hasn’t already headed to bed; he doesn’t want to be a bother.
When he finally makes his way to Jungkook’s front door, however, he finds that it’s open. Shaking his head in disdain and already formulating a lecture in his head about being too careless and leaving the door open, Hoseok sneaks inside and grabs his glasses from the shelf, walking towards the couch where he sees Jungkook laying down his arms pressed over his eyes. It seems Jungkook hasn’t noticed Hoseok yet. Good. Maybe Hoseok should frighten him and teach him a lesson. That’s what he should do. He makes a whole elaborate plan to spook Jungkook, even though he already knows it’s futile to try and scare their iron-willed maknae.
But before Hoseok can so much as open his mouth, he is hit with a heart-wrenching sob that freezes his feet in place. The sound rips Hoseok apart, wounds him from the inside out and leaves him winded. His eyes go wide in shock and he stares open-mouthed as Jungkook breaks into a fit of sobs, all the while laying on his back, arm slung across his eyes, teeth gnawing into his lower lip in a vain attempt to control the intensity of his wails, tugging at his lip ring so harshly that it leeches the colour around it.
Jungkook is crying. He’s a sobbing, blubbering mess, tears staining the grey couch a shade darker where they fall. The sound is raw and laced with curses, laced with little broken pleas, incoherent garbles that sound like Hoseok’s name. Jungkook is crying because he’s going to miss Hoseok. Jungkook is crying because he doesn’t want Hoseok to leave. Jungkook is crying because he loves Hoseok. Jungkook is crying because of Hoseok. He’s that same kid from all those years back, that same kid begging Hoseok to stay, to not leave him. Jungkook hasn’t changed from back then. He’s still the same. But he’s also changed a lot. And Hoseok has changed a lot too. They’ve all changed in their own ways. This tightness in Hoseok’s chest– this yearning for god knows what– this wasn’t there before. Perhaps, it is a consequence of that very change.
For a moment, Hoseok feels all his walls crumble down around him, he feels an overwhelming need to run over and jump into Jungkook’s arms, to kiss his tears off, kiss that stupid lip ring off– kiss all his worries off. To simply, mindlessly... kiss him. Hoseok wants to kiss Jungkook. He wants to cross the line.
Just like that, as if acknowledging it reinforces it back into existence, the line zips and sparks back to life, crackling like a live wire, threatening to split and burst through everything. But Hoseok somehow manages to keep it in place, manages to keep himself in check. When he turns around, it’s silent, barely a rustle over the sobs in the room. When he closes the door behind him, it is gentle and firm, even if his fingers tremble with enough force to rattle his entire body. When he rests the back of his head against the door, it is with a thud so soft that it only ripples inside his soul, doesn’t make a sound otherwise.
The exhale that rips past Hoseok’s lips is only loud because of the ringing in his ears. But it’s okay– everything is okay. The line is still preserved. Hoseok and Jungkook are still preserved. Hoseok swallows the unrelenting lump in his throat, closing his eyes and lifting his head the slightest bit before letting it thud lightly against the door, no noise. He clenches his eyes shut, refusing to let the tears form, refusing to cry right now. Not right now, not where there is a possibility that Jungkook might hear him, that Jungkook might open the door and take him into his arms, that Jungkook might kiss him silly and bruise his tongue with that lip ring–
That is a line he will cross another time.
Fin