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Yoongi feels like his brain is melting.
Stuck underground, heat clings to him like a second skin.
Sticky.
Oppressive.
Every time he tries taking a full breath, his lungs tighten in protest.
Yoongi lays back against the worn leather sofa. His eyes are closed, but every noise tethers him to consciousness—the hum of the air purifier, the creaking of old metal, Jungkook singing lightly under their breath.
Their head is in his lap, the two falling into position after Yoongi practiced the guitar. His fingertips are scarred over from hours of plucking at the strings, but he hopes Jungkook can't tell. Or, at the very least, doesn't care. Yoongi's touch is soft. Something careful and considerate, smooth circular motions on their scalp that should gross him out because they're both drenched in sweat. But Jungkook is Jungkook, and Yoongi somehow doesn't mind.
He can feel the younger's stare before they begin talking.
"Yoongi?"
"Mmm?"
"How much longer do you think we have this time?"
A small sigh escapes him before he looks down into Jungkook's wide, glassy eyes.
"I don't know," Yoongi's honest. The time spent in the bunkers gets longer and longer each round. Their youth was hopeful and bright, but now the stretches of time spent underground reflect a rarely discussed and ashen future. Even the typical excitement of going back out becomes shrouded in the exhaustion of having to readjust.
Jungkook groans, pressing their face into Yoongi's thigh and biting in frustration.
"Shit," Yoongi hisses, "First of all, gross. And second, ow."
"'m sorry," Jungkook says, mouth still smushed above Yoongi's knee, "I'm just tired."
Yoongi's face pinches in concern before softening. "I know."
Usually, the two are content to waste away in silence for a bit, but Yoongi can practically feel the restraint slipping before Jungkook asks, "What do you miss the most?"
"A good cup of coffee," Yoongi answers straight away. Though, the thought of a hot drink right now is enough to make his stomach lurch.
"Coffee?" Jungkook giggles—a wisp of something light dancing around the dim room. "Like out of everything you could miss?"
"You put me on the spot." Yoongi shrugs. "What else am I supposed to say?"
"Simplicity is key, I guess."
"How much better are your big plans then?" He asks, trying his best to ignore the pools of sweat collecting at his elbows.
Jungkook finally sits up and faces him. "So much better."
Yoongi listens as they ramble about places to go, things to do, and people to meet. It's cute, he thinks, when Jungkook pouts about being trapped. The way their eyes shine at older, better memories. The lisp that exposes itself when their excitement starts to build.
"And—ah, shit. Never mind," Jungkook says, shaking their head.
Yoongi nudges their shoulder. "What? I'm listening, I promise."
"It's not that. It's just a little embarrassing."
Yoongi doesn't say anything, but doesn't give Jungkook an out either.
"I miss kissing, okay." They immediately look down, twiddling with the drawstrings of their shorts.
"Kissing?" Yoongi laughs, but not unkindly. "I get it. I mean, look at where we are."
"I just…yeah," Jungkook says, letting the rest of their sentence fizzle out.
"What do you miss about it?" Yoongi asks, trying to tame his captivation. Even after all this time, he never tires learning new things about Jungkook.
There's just something about them. A curious soul so eager to soak up every experience this world has to offer. Jungkook lives and loves headfirst, diving into things without restraint. Every action is deliberate—every touch, taste, and smell. Every discovery is like a new star put up in Jungkook's galaxy, and every lesson forms constellations to remember them by.
Someone else might have found the question weird, but Jungkook offers a smile before saying, "I think my favorite thing is that first kiss with someone."
They continue, but this time, Yoongi's pretty much useless. One mention of a kiss, and he's been plunged into a familiar trance. Thoughts only of Jungkook's lips; wonders how they would feel and taste. He gets some bits—words like gentle and shy —and Yoongi's ears go red thinking of how different their experiences are.
Yoongi's first kisses were all heated affairs. Sultry, sleazy little things. Some preceded by fuck-me eyes at a party, others barely soothing the sting of being pushed up against a locked shelter door.
He tells them as much, and suddenly, he's got a lapful of Jungkook—their arms looped around his neck.
"Seriously? No one's ever kissed you like that before?"
"Why is that so hard to believe?" Yoongi tips his head up—partly an illusion of annoyance, mainly to avoid Jungkook's gaze.
"Because it's all I can think about doing sometimes," they admit, voice barely a whisper.
A beat. And then,
Yoongi slowly lowers his head, words bleeding out of him in a rasp. "Jungkook-ah, you can't just say that."
Jungkook bites their bottom lip, but their eyes are unwavering, and Yoongi is beyond overwhelmed by the display of their want. It feels like he's in a fever dream—a cruel show of everything he's ever desired taunting him moments before he wakes.
"Why not?"
"Because, i-it's us," Yoongi stutters.
"Exactly. It's us." Jungkook drops their arms back to their sides. "C'mon, you have to know."
Yoongi gathers the courage to look at them once more and, yeah, he knows. Knows that Jungkook knows, too. Knows of all the time they've wasted.
"Can I just…" Yoongi breathes out, raising a hand to touch Jungkook's face.
They immediately close their eyes, letting Yoongi do what he needs to do—a simple yet grand demonstration of trust.
He first brushes the sweaty bangs off Jungkook's forehead, exposing every bit of their face he can. His hands are featherlight as he traces their eyebrows, looping back to cascade down the bridge of their nose and along the divot of their cupid's bow. He hasn't done anything remarkable. Not really. Not yet. And still, Yoongi already feels the swell of tears building. This act alone is more intimate than anything he's ever done.
Even when Yoongi gains the courage to start ghosting kisses across Jungkook's skin, they don't flinch. He plants one right in the middle of their forehead, another to the scar on their cheek.
Then, finally, Yoongi presses their lips together.
It's over before it's really started, but the two break apart breathless all the same.
"Hi," Jungkook says, all bunny smiles and crinkly eyes.
"Jungkook, hi."
"Can I—again?" Jungkook pleads, a slight wheeze in their voice.
Yoongi gives in. He kisses them and forgets it all. Forgets the heat, the hopelessness. Forgets everything except those lips, perfectly pink and tantalizing.
He aches for more. It's not the crazed hands and frantic pulls of clothing he's used to. Not with them. But rather a gentle slide under their shirt and a firm hold on their waist. Jungkook cups Yoongi's face in response and smiles until Yoongi smiles back, teeth clinking in celebration.
The kisses are desperate and delicate all at once. Perfect, but Yoongi is alight with greed. He wants to meld into each other, wants to feel the cliche of not knowing where one person ends and the other begins. He wants this to be the only way he breathes.
Yoongi settles for deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue against the seam of their lips. A whimper escapes Jungkook that Yoongi captures in memory. A soft, honeyed thing that sticks and echoes in all the hollows of his heart.
Jungkook's hands tangle in the front of Yoongi's shirt, hesitant then clutching. They lean forward, following Yoongi's lead for only a moment before pulling away.
"Wait, wait, wait," Jungkook says, a breathy lilt to their voice. "Can we lay down for a bit? Wanna kiss you slow for now."
"Yeah," Yoongi says, letting himself be guided. He shakes his head. "Yeah, sorry, of course."
They kiss again. Once. Twice. Countless more. Yoongi fails at keeping track. Time seems to be both fleeting and infinite, and all he knows is the feel of their lips moving against each other, saccharine sweet and syrup slow.
Eventually, it all comes to a stop. Yoongi’s tucked into the crook of Jungkook's neck—skin salt-slick and warm. He laughs, and the sound ripples out of him easily.
"Damn, that bad?" Jungkook asks, clearly teasing.
"A smile just didn't seem like enough."
He feels a kiss pressed to his temple, and Yoongi knows he's been understood.
He feels small in this moment, a little exposed, but not in a bad way. And while this feeling is strange now, he can't wait to get used to it. To kiss and be kissed. To care and be cared for. To love Jungkook and be loved back—for all the days they have left.