Work Text:
its six o'clock and snow is falling and blanketing the city in powdery white beauty. there aren't a lot of people on the roads, but the ones that are drive at a snails pace, the few running buses crawling along their routes. there are people out, though. walking, slipping, shoveling, playing – people everywhere, enjoying the first snowfall of the season, just in time for christmas.
normally, jeongguk would love this. he loves winter, loves weather that requires getting warm and cozy and snuggley. he loves making snowmen, snowball fights, ice skating. all of it. everything winter-cold-snow-holiday related he is down for one hundred percent.
and yet.
why did we drive we should have just taken the bus driving in the snow is so unsafe if we leave to go home and the roads aren't clear yet we're gonna crash and we're gonna die and i don't want to die i have so much more to do in my life i can't
“you're gonna break the glass,” a voice murmurs into his ear, cutting through the noise in his brain. jeongguk blinks, looks down at the wine glass trembling in his vice grip and forces himself to relax his hand. it takes a few seconds, a deep breath or two, but he manages. he manages and he forces himself to go through his breathing exercises (in for five, out for five, in for five, out for five) to make the incessant voice in his head calm the fuck down, to try to break down the heavy weight that sits in his gut and threatens to drag him down to the center of the earth.
its snowing and we drove here and i know hyung said it'll be fine but what if its not and we slide off a bridge and crash and die and
“guk-ah,” the voice says again, the deep dulcet baritone a lifeline that jeongguk clutches to, the only thing keeping him from being washed away in a wave of anxiety and nerves. a large warm hand presses into his lower back, fingers curling and uncurling into the material of jeongguk's ugly christmas sweater. “do you want to leave?”
jeongguk closes his eyes, inhales slowly, holds it, (we're gonna die out there we're gonna crash and die) releases, then turns and opens his eyes. he opens his eyes and looks at his hyung, and namjoon looks back with patience and caring and love and the very big knot in his chest loosens just a little bit in the warmth of his understanding gaze.
“i...” jeongguk swallows, glances over namjoon's shoulder at their gathered friends sprawled out on the available furniture. taehyung and jimin curled around each other and laughing at something on jimin's phone; yoongi and hoseok talking animatedly about some artist or another, hands flapping and grins wide as their respective girlfriends look on with fond smiles; jin bouncing on the couch as he dances horribly to the christmas song playing in the background, crooning along without a care in the world, completely oblivious to the love-struck glances yoongi keeps shooting him.
it's comfortable and it feels like home and he doesn't want to leave, but the snow keeps falling and jeongguk is acutely aware of the fact that they drove instead of taking the bus – because its christmas day and the buses aren't running their usual routes and knowing them they'd have gotten lost – and he just doesn't know if he can handle all of this.
car crunching like an accordion, glass everywhere, bodies ejected from the vehicle, blood everywhere dead dead broken and bruised and battered and dead
it takes a considerable amount of effort for jeongguk to turn his back on the window but he does it, namjoon's hand shifting seamlessly from his back to wrap an arm low around his hips. namjoon tilts his head down to press his lips against jeongguk's temple, noses at his hairline. “we can leave,” he says, tightening his grip on jeongguk's hip, a thumb slipping under the hem of his sweater to rub soothingly into his skin.
“don't you want to stay though?” jeongguk doesn't quite look namjoon in the eyes but he makes a solid attempt at it, the blood in his veins burning hot under his skin with embarrassment at the idea of namjoon having to leave the party early just because jeongguk can't handle his shit. just because jeongguk can't keep himself from panicking over the smallest fucking things.
“i want whatever will make you happy,” namjoon replies easily, tilting his head down enough to catch jeongguk's eyes. he replies easily and his smile is easy and honest and it brings tears to jeongguk's eyes, tears that he blinks quickly to dispel.
his eyes dart away again, back to their friends. each and every one of them is continuing on as if jeongguk isn't having a small crisis off to the side; the only sign that they know something is wrong is hoseok glancing at him with a bright, reassuring smile before returning to his conversation. they carry on as if this is no big deal, as if jeongguk is normal, as if this is a normal thing; they don't stare and they don't judge and jeongguk swallows down the lump in his throat. he's so lucky to have them, so lucky to have namjoon, and it would be a damn shame if they died in a car crash tonight.
wheels slipping, car twisting, metal crunching, dead dead dead DEAD DEAD
“hey—hey.” suddenly the wine glass is gone from his hand and namjoon is all in his space, arms around his shoulders and pulling him into his chest. the material of namjoon's own ugly sweater scratches against jeongguk's face but he presses closer anyway, sinking into namjoon's warmth, breathing in his woodsy scent. it takes a moment for jeongguk to realize he's trembling, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.
if we drive we're going to die hyung said we'd be okay but i know we're gonna die i want to go home but we can't go home because if we do we're gonna d
namjoon is talking, jeongguk can feel it rumble through his ribcage, and then he's being guided through jin's apartment, pushed into the guest room, pulled down on the bed in a mess of limbs and cradled in namjoon's arms like a baby.
“its okay guk-ah, we can stay here for the night, yeah? see how the weather looks tomorrow and if the roads are clear we can go home then. is that okay?” namjoon peppers jeongguk's face with kisses and god jeongguk just wants to cry.
“but you have to work tomorrow hyung, we have to go—“ namjoon cuts him off with a kiss.
“i can tell them we're stuck because of the weather, it's not a big deal.”
“but—“ namjoon-hyung has to work tomorrow but if we leave we're gonna die we can't leave but he has to work i'm holding him back i'm
“jeongguk. we can stay here tonight. it's okay.” namjoon's voice is firm, unrelenting, but his eyes are so soft and caring and loving and –
god, that's all it takes for the ball of lead in his core to unravel at lightning speed. and then he unravels and proceeds to burst into tears. not cute tears, not delicate tears, no – there's hiccups and snot and probably drool too. ugly and raw.
he cries and he cries and he cries, partly because of all the anxious energy finally releasing, partly because he just wants to be fucking normal. jeongguk wants to be able to live without constant panic, he doesn't want to be a burden on his friends and family and on his boyfriend and the fact that he can't have even that just... sucks so fucking much.
apparently he's been saying everything he's been thinking out loud because namjoon is crushing him in a hug, running fingers through his hair soothingly.
“you're not a burden, jeon jeongguk. you're my boyfriend and i fucking love this shit out of you, we all do, and we knew that it would be a rough couple months while you switched medications, so don't you dare beat yourself up about this, okay? i will tickle the fuck out of you if you start beating yourself up, i will make you piss your pants if you try to beat yourself up over this. it's okay. everything is okay.”
there's a scream from the living room, followed by booming laughter. “okay, everything is okay with us,” namjoon amends, and jeongguk can't help but smile as he chuckles under his breath and wipes at his face with the sleeve of his sweater.
“sounds like they're murdering jimin,” jeongguk mumbles. namjoon hums his agreement
with a sigh, jeongguk buries his face into namjoon's neck, inhales deeply, holds it, then releases it shakily, namjoon's hands rubbing along his back, his shoulders, everywhere and anywhere to help him relax.
“everything is okay,” jeongguk says, trying hard to believe the words he's saying.
“everything is okay,” namjoon echoes back.