Work Text:
AMATE
The chill tickled Jeon Jeongguk's cheek as the cloudy weather frightened him; it was going to rain. He glanced at his restless fingers, shaken by his left leg. Min Yoongi was taking way too long. He bit down on his lip, distressed, while he stared at the heavy clouds that presaged a storm. He had left his house without paying any mind to his mother's wise advice about the changing weather.
He leaned back on the bench at that empty square. It was almost time for the church to open for Mass. The teenagers — except for a few, including himself — were getting ready to enjoy their Saturday. The temperature was quite pleasant and ideal for staying in bed, which he would have done, had a short man with mint-coloured hair not rung him up to ask for help. Jeongguk, at nearly nineteen years of age, considered himself too soft-hearted to resist his best friend's affection; however, he would get Yoongi back for this — he would charge him with snacks and cuddles, no discount.
He slid his tongue over his lips, trying to soothe the feeling of dryness, and just as he was about to pull his phone out of the pocket of his denim jacket to tell Yoongi that he was tired of waiting for him — and that his mother would tell him off about his absence at dinner — he saw the owner of the green hair locks approaching him, with a cigarette between his fingers and a large backpack. The grey atmosphere highlighted the colour that the older boy brought into the younger's life — a symptom of passion, as Jeon's sister would call it. His complexion was flushed by the brutally cold breeze, and his warm eyes harmonised with the smug sideways smile. Jeongguk sighed; that glimmer in his friend's eyes was the simplest yet most precious thing he could ever witness in his earthly life.
"Ggukie-ah! Sorry I took so long. I’d forgotten to bring my backpack, so I had to walk back two whole blocks," he said, showing his dark blue bag with a black zipper slung over one shoulder.
"What's with the backpack, hyung? And put out that stinky cigarette, will you!” he exclaimed grumpily.
The older boy laughed at Jeongguk’s pout and put out the cigarette after a drag.
"I'm staying at your place for a few days, is that all right?" he asked, inspecting the other from head to toe. He knew he was irresistible, and he took advantage of it.
"More problems?" Jeongguk gave an earnest frown.
"We’ve got a deal, remember? No asking questions. I’ve brought cocoa butter lip balm! I had a feeling you'd forget yours and your lips would be in that state. Irresponsible, aren’t you?" He handed him the lip balm, shifting the topic completely.
"Yoon-hyung! I can't—"
"Let's go back to yours and listen to music and eat popcorn! I miss playing with your cat."
Jeongguk opened the lip balm and ran the yellow stick over his plump, chapped lips. He took a deep breath to convey his displeasure and thanked him for his kindness, feeling too broken to insist on a never-ending argument. Besides, when he felt Min's cold hand pulling his from the denim jacket, the warmth that filled his chest was comforting enough to make his heart surrender.
SULPHITE
The grin on Jeongguk's face was wide and firm. Yoongi was able to awaken the purest sensations and, just by being there with him — and, of course, with his other friends — he could give Jeongguk a feeling so joyful and sweet that it had been keeping him up at night lately. The boy with colourful hair was so full, so beautiful, so admirable, so himself.
Jeongguk allowed himself to travel through the memories of the day he first saw him: the ninth grade graduation party. Yoongi had been named the valedictorian of his class, while Jeon accompanied his parents to celebrate his brother's graduation from elementary school. Amidst the fun and the fancily dressed crowd, Jeongguk found himself captivated by the dessert table — but no more so than by the feline irises of the grumpy boy who was delivering a speech on stage while staring at him. Yoongi still had that disorienting look in his eyes. His features had matured during puberty, his voice had become husky, and the mystery surrounding him was beyond the defining power of words. It was all so extraordinary when it came to Min Yoongi.
The dead of night was dark, with countless stars dancing with the lovely moon while the embers sang as they burned. Yoongi had been staying at Jeongguk’s for a week, but his visit would really mean nothing without their sneaking out of the bedroom window to meet up with Namjoon, Hoseok, Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung. They were far from town. After all, Jeongguk had never been good at evading persuasion, and all the adrenaline Yoongi exuded with his riddles, bad habits and desire for freedom had him feeling ecstatic and inspired. He was undoubtedly a fool, completely lost in the impetuous ideas of his loved one. That was their meeting spot: an old, worn-out building. Whenever they could, they would gather there to do some catching up.
“So, you left him on read?”
“As if Yoongi would ever give any explanations,” Jimin chuckled before laying his head on Hoseok’s lap and pulling a plaid blanket over himself.
Jeongguk blinked and stared at Yoongi, who was flicking a grey lighter, his eyes fixed on the flame. He really wasn’t the type to give explanations. Frustrating. Three months had passed since Jeongguk first offered to share a room with him, and thus far, he had received nothing but emptiness regarding the reason for his visits. At first, it was fine. The joy of being a safe haven for someone he loved so dearly brought him hope, along with the pleasant feeling of being safe and comfortable enough a person for his friends. He shouldn't have been surprised; “as if Yoongi would ever give any explanations”.
“I don't think it’s fair,” he said, his voice low and firm.
Interested, Yoongi gave him a sidelong glance. “Why is that, Gguk?”
“I don’t think your lack of emotional responsibility is fair.”
Silence. The exchange of glances between the mysterious boy and the docile boy was so intense that none of those present dared break it. Jeon feels his body go lightweight with the courage to tell Yoongi, for the very first time, what had been bothering him. Min, for his part, put away the lighter and continued to stare into the doe eyes that ever fascinated him.
“I don’t like the way this town works.”
“How does it work?”
“We’re in a paper town, filled with paper people. Everything’s so foldable, fragile and shallow.”
PHOTOGRAPHIC
Winter had the asphalt covered in snow, like a beautiful and thick velvet carpet. Jeongguk wore a blue beanie and a heavy coat to protect himself from the wind that blew mightfully on his flushed cheeks, as he watched Yoongi stroll around the square with his camera in hand. He could’ve sworn that he would never grow tired of admiring him; the sweetness in his smile, the depth in his eyes, the fragrant, faded hair — which seemed to match the season — and, especially, each detail of his best friend's skin and soul, all left him absorbed in a passion hot enough to last a lifetime.
He smiled shyly upon noticing the shutter sound in his direction.
“Hey! The scenery looks prettier.”
Little did the young man know that, through Yoongi's eyes, nothing could ever hold a candle to Jeongguk’s constellations — whether they were the moles scattered across his pale skin or the ones that shimmered ardently in his eyes.
“You say that because you’re a fool.” The shutter went off again. “Oh, I love your little pouts whenever you get all sulky.”
“Share some cotton candy with me and tell me about your week, then I'll strike a pose for you!”
That was an undeclinable request. Soon, their fingers were stained with blue food dye as they exchanged comments on the children's fighting at the square.
“We’ve never argued,” Min remarked.
“You intimidate me.”
“Pardon me?”
There was a long, lazy sigh. It was time, Jeongguk could feel it.
“I get hurt by some of the things you do, and if it weren't for the vastness of the things you cause me, we would’ve had a serious fight already. The thing is…” He stared at the other boy's curious face. “The thing is, I always end up giving in, afraid of the possible 'what ifs'; the risk of losing you scares me. All this self-indulgence suits me right as I understand that I'm the person you lean on whenever you need. That means something, doesn't it? I'm so silly…”
“Jeongguk, if you—”
“I know you'd listen to me any time, like you're doing right now, but I dunno. It was comforting, somehow, and I held on to it. I'm not proud that we’ve never argued... I'm not proud that I let it go, because saying this out loud, while looking at you, brings me so much relief that I wonder why it took me so long. I prioritised your comfort and forgot to demand something my soul yearned for. It’s just that you're so you. You're a person full of metaphors, escape hatches, quirks, colours and figures, and it makes me feel small.”
“I’m so sorry, Gguk,” he said sincerely, daring to caress Jeongguk's chin. “I am really sorry.”
“It feels good, saying it now.” He smiled faintly.
“Remember what I said last week? About our paper town.” He earned a nod from Jeongguk. “I sensed you were different the day I saw you, all shy, at the graduation party. We were so young. Ever since then, my chest swelled whenever I was in your company, because it was, and still is, the most special thing I’ve ever accomplished in my entire life, and I felt over the moon. That’s why I asked you to join me on my mountain hike as a gift for my seventeenth birthday: my favourite place with my favourite person. When you cracked up at my lame joke under the star-glimmered sky; when you looked at me with curiosity, eager to know all about my first job at the corner shop; when I started smoking and you spent the next three weeks coming up with rewards for me to drop nicotine; when you happened in my life, it felt as if everything had fallen into place. A meaning that can't be translated into words and can only be experienced once. I hate living here. I hate how just anyone's name echoes in the streets. I hate the injustice and the prejudice that drain the energy of the innocent; I hate the self-centeredness it awakens in me; I hate that it’s lifeless. It’s merely paper. And then, you. The person who, without so much as realising it, would make me stop along the way and crave for a piece of it, even a tiny little piece of paper, just to write our names in it in small letters and allow us a story.”
Jeongguk was melting, completely undone, indulging in every syllable that fell off the other boy’s lips.
“I wish it were spring, so I could give you a flower under a blue sky before telling you this,” Jeongguk started. “I don’t want to be friends, hyung… I want to kiss you.”
“Doing things is never as good as imagining them.”