Chapter Text
Jungkook
A light rain drizzles against the car roof, sliding down the windows like translucent pearls, misty grey like the early summer morning.
It’s hot despite the soft pitter patter against leaves and bushes in their miniature excuse of a garden. Or more like eight square meter of weeds nowadays, though it did have potential. The house itself was chaotically small. It was indeed a house but it served more as a glorified two story flat than an actual family home, wedged in between twenty identical houses on a long uphill road.
And yet, Jungkook loved that damn house like he’d never loved any inanimate object before.
Yoongi and Jimin had bought it right before they met him, little over three years ago. Back then everything was still so new and unexplored. Jungkook was fresh into university, life an overwhelming concoction of new impressions and struggling dreams. Meeting Yoongi and Jimin at that point had been both exhilarating and grounding at the same time. Compared to his insecure classmates they were a hard contrast of stable and mature, but still young and carefree enough to stir something deep in his stomach that he’d never really felt before, not at all in the same fleeting way he’d dated other people. In a way their three years had been like a whirlwind, but it had also been so very, very tender.
Jungkook still remembers how hot that first summer had been, the sunflowers Jimin had grown the year they started dating and how they had become so big he and Yoongi had to saw them down before they engulfed the entire kitchen window. He also vividly remembered how happy Jimin had been that year.
”Do you have everything?” Yoongi asks, passing him on the front step. He carries two duffel bags and three sleeping bags, all while struggling to pat down his jeans pockets, probably checking he got his phone, keys and wallet. Jungkook already knows Yoongi has one hundred percent surely forgotten his phone charger in their bedroom and reminds himself to go get it before they leave.
”Yeah,” he says, blinking away raindrops caught in his lashes, wet after staring too long at the mud under the kitchen window. He pulls the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. He still thinks of sunflowers. Maybe they could grow them again sometime, when the soggy rain stopped.
”Hyung! Did you already pack down my toothbrush?” Jimin yells from inside. ”I told you I need it!”
”Why would I pack your toothbrush?” Yoongi drawls loudly over his shoulder and throws the bags into the car. They were taking Yoongi’s car, because Jungkook didn’t own a car and Jimin’s was a tiny piece of junk, but also because Yoongi had a damn nice car. Big black SUV with space for a family of seven, but they always used it as a five seater and the back for storing all sorts of shit. It was almost cute how much Yoongi loved it, and Jungkook loved to drive it.
”Well, it’s not here, so where the fuck would it otherwise be?” Jimin snaps in return. Jungkook heaves a deep breath, knowing Jimin had left his toothbrush on the kitchen counter earlier when he anxiously tried to do five things at once plus find time to brush his teeth, which he apparently didn’t manage.
Jungkook glances warily at his oldest boyfriend and expects no less than a verbal quarrel. But miraculously Yoongi only closes his eyes towards the grey sky with a tense twitch in his jaw. Sometimes Jungkook thought he was a goddamn saint. But he also knew neither of them could bring themselves to be actually upset with Jimin, at least not today.
”It’s in the kitchen!” Jungkook hurries to yell to prevent a disaster before they could even get in the damn car, let alone outside the city.
With a heavy heart he thinks it will be a very, very long trip.
—
”2500 miles, from south to north,” Jungkook says. Jimin sits with his feet propped up on the dashboard in the passenger seat. Jungkook points at the map in his hands from the back, hanging over his shoulder. ”It’s about three or four days, give or take. Depending how many hours we drive each.”
”We shouldn’t push it, no night driving,” Yoongi says, rolling to a stop by a redlight. Jungkook watches a man sweep the front step of a bakery outside the window and is surprised Yoongi hasn’t nagged Jimin about taking down his feet yet. ”It’s unhealthy and dangerous to drive for too long if we don’t even have to.”
When the light turns green Yoongi switches gear and drives off towards the main road. Jungkook slumps back in his seat, peering out the window with sleepy eyes. The big city was oddly empty so early in the morning. Perhaps the only time it wasn’t buzzing with life was right before the morning commute.
When Jimin keeps eerily quiet Jungkook glances at him through the rearview mirror.
Had it been a year ago, his boyfriends would have been a chatting, bickering, heart-eyed mess in the front seat despite it being ungodly early in the morning. Jimin would have blasted their eardrums in with some gross club-remixed pop song and Yoongi would have grunted about desperately needing coffee, but still with a smile on his face and his free hand roaming all over whomever sat in the passenger seat. Jimin would have been twisted around or in the back playing games with Jungkook, challenging him to music quizzes and singing along to old songs they listened to as teenagers, and Jungkook would happily have agreed despite being half asleep.
Now he only catches Jimin frowning down into the map while chewing on his lip, looking hollow.
”We have time, baby, there’s no rush,” Yoongi says quietly and reaches over to squeeze Jimin's knee.
”I just wanna get this stupid fucking trip over with as soon as possible.” Jimin snarls and shies away. He crosses his arms and looks out the window which makes Yoongi draw back his hand, hesitantly taking a cramped grip on the wheel.
Jungkook closes his eyes and prays he can sleep the majority of the way.
—
Jungkook doesn’t get any sleep, what with how loud his boyfriends argue.
”Hyung! You should’ve taken that exit, 75th is that way,” Jimin flares and slaps a finger on the map, then up against the window. ”We’re not even out of town yet and you’re already going the wrong way!”
”It was intentional. If we take R78 it will go just as quick, if not faster,” Yoongi grumbles, eyes on the road.
Despite the frown, Jungkook thinks he looks pretty today. He always did, but lately he’d been looking more and more tired for each passing week. Every morning those deep circles under his eyes seemed to have taken a sickeningly worse shade than the night before. His cheeks weren’t as full as they used to be and his whole posture seemed to slump more than usual. Jungkook hated it. Especially when Yoongi locked himself in his studio and stayed in there until sunrise with a bottle of whiskey and too much time alone, even if it was in the middle of the week and the third time he did it in five days. Jungkook hated that more than anything.
Today Yoongi doesn't look like that though. He looks tired, they all looked tired nowadays, but today fairly so because it was still early and they had been awake since before dawn. There’s a healthy rosy shade on his cheeks from having the window open, dark hair rippling fluffy and newly washed over his brows. Jungkook wants to touch it, card his fingers through it and kiss his pale skin.
”Literally everyone takes R78, we’re gonna get stuck in traffic and then this shit will take forever,” Jimin argues.
Jungkook wants to kiss him too but for several other reasons. Mostly for the same reason you put a bandaid on kids even though they didn’t have a flesh wound. Sometimes shit hurt anyway, without showing.
”It’s not even six in the morning, there’s no traffic yet,” Yoongi lashes out. He doesn’t exactly raise his voice but he flails a hand towards the mostly empty road, frustrated.
”Or you can just stick to the planned route!” Jimin spits back. ”It’s not like I made this shit up because I wanted to.”
”Oh for fuck’s sake, Jimin. You and I both know she wouldn’t give a fuck about what fucking road we take out of the city!” Yoongi barks. Very eloquent. Jungkook kind of understands him. But he immediately flicks his worried gaze their way anyway.
He can see the moment Jimin freezes in his seat, hands cramping around the map, jaw tense. He goes eerily quiet, staring forward out the window and Yoongi does too.
”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Yoongi mumbles eventually, reaching for Jimin while keeping his eyes on the road. Again, Jimin shrugs him off, glaring out the window.
”It’s fine,” he says. Jungkook knows he’s not fine and he hated every time he said those words.
A thick silence stretches in the car, nearly palpable beyond the rush of vehicles outside. Jungkook fights the painful lump forming in his throat, thinking back to little over a year ago when they went to visit Seokjin and Namjoon in the next town over. That car trip had been short but nice. He’d been napping and making out with Jimin in the backseat most of the time, more to tease Yoongi than anything else. They had thoroughly made up for it later. But it had also been one of the last things they had done together before everything had changed.
”Can I have the aux-cord?” Jungkook mutters. Both his boyfriends jump like they had completely forgotten he was even there, which may hurt more than witnessing their arguing. Sometimes he felt more like a divorce child than a boyfriend. He hated that most of all
”Of course,” Jimin mumbles absently, voice horribly thick as he hands him the cord.
”We’ll take the next exit,” Yoongi says and flicks on the blinkers. ”If we turn around by the gas station we can still get back to the 75th, okay?”
Jimin only nods jerkily, eyes wet and glassy. Jungkook plays a song and the nostalgic tunes of retro inspired pop drowns the heavy silence.
—
”Baby, wake up.”
Jungkook stirs awake, groggy from uncomfortable yet somehow deep sleep in the backseat. Yoongi shakes his knee, twisted in the front seat. When Jungkook opens his eyes he notices Jimin already scrambling out of the car like he can’t even stand the thought of spending another minute inside.
”We’re having a short stop, you should stretch and find a bathroom if you need.”
Yoongi’s eyes linger painfully long on Jimin’s back, before he too opens the door and steps outside. All that is there is the road with fast passing cars and the open concrete area of the gas station. Beyond that are trees. The still early day is heavy with clouds. The rain had stopped but the air felt clammy so close to the sea.
”I’m getting coffee,” Yoongi mumbles, stifling a yaw when Jungkook gets outside. Yoongi turns to him with a raised brow and hands burrowed in his hoodie. ”You want anything?”
”Just a Pepsi.” Jungkook shuts the door and absently watches Jimin’s retreating shape, stalking off alone, probably to smoke far away from the gas station.
”Only Pepsi?” Yoongi asks, highly sceptical. Jungkook doesn’t really listen.
”He probably wants hot chocolate, and those weird honey-oat bars, you know?” He turns to look at Yoongi. Jimin always wanted hot chocolate, even in the summer. Hell, that boy would choose hot chocolate over his new born if he had to. It was certainly a trait he’d inherit from his mother. She’d always been a weird woman, but a very lovely one.
”I know,” Yoongi says and raises one hand to pat Jungkook’s cheek with the back of his fingers. For a brief second, Jungkook basks in it like some neglected touched starved street cat. Then Yoongi pulls away and gives him a tired half-smile that somehow manages to look more sad than reassuring.
”I’ll get you something, be right back.”
After finding the restrooms behind the gas station, Jungkook saunters off alone. Yoongi is still in the shop, looking like a ghost wandering around the shelves. But Jungkook knew why he was tired, they were all so fucking tired, right into their bones, and not really due to lack of sleep, even if it might partly be because of that too.
He finds Jimin sitting with his back turned on a picnic bench by a lawn close to the road, more staring at the sky than actually smoking. Had it been a year ago he would have been glued by their hips, dangling off Yoongi’s arm or around Jungkook’s waist at all times no matter what they did, and they would have loved it.
Jimin wasn’t like that because he needed to, but because of how he was as a person; openly caring and affectionate, so very attentive and eager to share his love, at least when he was comfortable. Jungkook loved him for that, so very much. Yoongi was like that too but not in the same way, not in the open. At home he was the clingy one, the vocal one but affectionate with gestures rather than words, and in public it was Jimin. Jungkook was the rocky middle ground somewhere in between and felt fine with that. Or at least he did before. Now everything was different.
They were different.
Things hadn’t always been like this, of course. They had been together for nearly three years, Yoongi and Jimin for an infinite amount longer. They got together in high school. Nobody in their right mind actually ever believed in couples staying together for that long. Jungkook hadn’t either after seeing his own parents divorce and handle it like bitter teenagers. It was such things that only happened in movies, but Jungkook had early learnt how wildly wrong everyone was just by looking at those two boys.
This fact had never really bothered him; that they had been together for so long without him. It didn’t bother him because it had never bothered them. Maybe he’d been a tiny bit sad that he hadn’t met them sooner in his life, but on the other hand he wasn’t so sure he would have been ready back then, plus they had made up for all that time rather quickly.
The both of them had fallen head over heels for him just as hard as he’d melted into their odd love and wished he could be a part of it rather than being jealous of either of them. Maybe it was strange, but for Jungkook it had always been both of them, as two strong individuals but also as one solid mass of something so good he couldn't put into real words. Perhaps safe or home was the most sappy but also the most accurate ones. But lots of things could happen in a year, and even more could change in the span of a few short months.
’Nothing is too late, till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate.’
It was another weird thing Jimin’s mom often used to say. She’d read it somewhere on some obscure part of the web, or god forbid in an actual book, but Jungkook doubted it. That woman spent more time online than in the real world. But those words had been oddly comforting for them for a long time. She’d always been so free, so unapologetic, and therefore so supportive. The only one to openly take them all three under her wings like they all belonged together in some fucked up tiny family.
Perhaps that was why she had affected them all so much.
Jimin was in a way a lot like his mother. She had always been one of those people who dressed like every day was a gala at the opera, despite shopping mostly on vintage ebay. She wore Gucci perfume only to pick up milk at the local convenience store, but also forgot where she put her car keys and glasses every single morning. She’d moved up north to see the stars and fall in love even if it was half a life away from her only son, because she knew Jimin if anyone would understand. She always drank from glasses with a foot, no matter what drink, and ate microwaved pizza off the fancy china because life was a party and too short to own fancy china for it to collect dust on a shelf.
The gut-wrenching unfair part was how right she’d been.
It had come out of nowhere, the illness. Silent and creeping. As soon as it came it became worse. It was over in only a couple months. Jungkook was still fairly new into their relationship when it began, barely over a year, and he’d helplessly had to watch Jimin slowly fall apart while feeling more and more like he couldn’t even manage his own daily life. Then he’d had to watch Yoongi fall apart by seeing his high school sweetheart withering away, all while desperately trying to keep them all three floating. It was nothing but unfair, like the world tried to tear them apart by purpose.
Perhaps nobody truly ever deserved to die. Perhaps some people actually did deserve to die. Perhaps if it had been old age and after a long happy life it would have hurt less. But one thing was sure, and that was that the last person on this sad planet deserving to die was Park Minji. It was too quick, too early, ripped out of their hands. So much heartache and bitterness grew out of such loss because there was no one to blame, no one to take out all that sorrow and anger on except for themselves or some deaf higher power.
Jungkook shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, walking on gravel up to where Jimin sits. Weak summer sunbeams split through the clouds and fall light and warm on his bare knees. Jimin too is only wearing shorts and a sweater, his dark hair rustling in the wind. Jungkook wants to curl up next to him, to just hold and be held, but he has a strong feeling Jimin doesn’t want that. Jungkook doesn’t really blame him. After all, they had more or less dragged him along on this trip against his will. Of course he was upset, for more than one reason.
Before she died Minji had written a letter. She was undoubtedly a very fucking weird person, they all knew that, but this was perhaps the weirdest thing she’d ever done… and maybe the most heart breaking. The letter had contained many tears and laughter, but also a request. And really, who were Jungkook and Yoongi to refuse when her last odd wish was for them to take Jimin on a road trip from south to north?
It was all they could do even when Jimin had refused for nearly six months, mostly because he wasn’t even human for a while, which they had of course respected, but later because he said it wasn’t important. It was stupid and everything was fine and they didn’t have to go. Jungkook and Yoongi didn’t agree. If Minji had asked for it then it was something that had to be done.
So here they were, on a shitty gas station four hours away from their home with a planned route drawn on a battered old roadside map with a red ballpoint pen, scribbled markings here and there with notes saying something like; stop here for gas, stop here for food, stop here to sit in the grass while looking at the lake and for the love of god stop moping about fairy tales. Neither of them knew what the hell any of these notes meant, not even Jimin, so they figured they would just have to wait and see.
”Hey,” Jungkook says and slumps down on the bench next to Jimin. He keeps staring forward, at the sky and the road and the passing cars, half smoked cigarettes cramped between his fingers. Jungkook thinks he might not even answer so he says, ”share,” and clips his fingers towards the cigarette.
”We shouldn’t smoke,” Jimin says absently and hands it to him anyway. He seems lost in thoughts, but for once not really angry. Jungkook agrees and takes a couple drags, then hands it back.
Jungkook didn’t exactly smoke. Jimin had quitted smoking years ago, long before Jungkook met him. He only picked it up again recently, a nervous habit when his mother got ill. It wasn’t like Jungkook or Yoongi could ever bring themselves to deny him that small relief with everything else going on. They figured he would quit again eventually, when the world seemed a little less burdensome.
”Are you angry with us?”
Jungkook dares to ask the unaskable question. The air feels heavy and tense between them, but he knew it was even more tense between Jimin and Yoongi. Jungkook had willingly helped him but it was Yoongi who had actively decided they should go on the trip, forcing Jimin out of that dark sad bedroom.
Jimin is quiet, a thin pillar of smoke snakes up in the sky between them. Jungkook’s chest hurts because he already knows the answer and he fights the abrupt urge to cry.
”Sometimes I think I’m angry at everything,” Jimin says hoarsely, ”and I don’t know how to make it stop.”
Jungkook swallows thickly, watches cars swish by at high speed. In one way he’s happy Jimin didn’t just say he’s fine, because they knew he wasn’t. In another he doesn’t know how to deal with this answer either.
”How are you feeling?” Jimin asks, mumbling against the filter, pulling Jungkook out of his head.
”What? Me? I’m okay,” Jungkook says, surprised. Jimin only hums and reaches out a hand to thread his fingers in the back of Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook nearly jumps a little, but only because he really didn’t expect it, which undoubtedly is… sad.
”Your hair’s getting long,” Jimin says and Jungkook automatically leans into his side, twirling a dark lock of his own bangs around his finger.
”I know, I should cut it.”
”Nah,” Jimin jests, tugging lightly on some strands, ”it’s nice to pull.”
Jungkook glances his way and sees a tiny smirk playing on his mouth. Jungkook snorts, smiling a little. He tries to remember when he last heard Jimin joke, it must have been months ago. Over a year? For a brief moment his head spins and everything feels weirdly nice, almost normal.
”Did you get some rest?”
”Enough for a car-nap,” Jungkook says, rubbing his stiff neck. He felt fine though. Some artificial sugar and he would be good to go for another six hours. The fresh air made him feel awake. Jimin hums again, exhales and throws the cigarette on the asphalt. They spot Yoongi walking out from the store, carrying coffee and a bunch of snacks. Jungkook stands up to go and help him.
”Kook,” Jimin says, hurried like in the passby before Jungkook could get too far. When he turns, Jimin frowns, almost annoyed. ”Yoongi is tired… You know how he is, never says shit out loud.”
Jimin doesn’t really look his way but Jungkook knows that he cares, otherwise he wouldn’t say it. Jungkook nods, because he already knew, but he’s still surprised that Jimin noticed such small things too. Not that he didn't normally do, but Jungkook wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t do it right now. It kind of warms his heart and makes his throat feel clogged at the same time.
Perhaps it was still there… albeit faint, whatever it was they were doing lately. But more times than not Jungkook feared they might have already lost it.
—
Jungkook is so focused on driving, lost in thoughts, he doesn’t notice his boyfriends arguing over the music. Not until they are nearly yelling, abruptly ripping him out of his trance. Maybe he was getting so used to it that his brain automatically zoned out in pure defence, but now it was hardly ignorable even if he tried.
”It’s only a short stop. It will take two minutes, in and out.”
”I don’t fucking want to. What are we even gonna do in a roadside bookstore?”
”I don’t know, Jimin. I didn’t write this goddamn map,” Yoongi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s slumped in the backseat, Jungkook is driving so Yoongi could get some rest but that seemed far off now. Jungkook knows he’s trying to stay calm. The way his hair is wildly messy and a muscle strains in his neck says very much different though.
”I thought you wanted to stick to the route?” Jungkook asks. Jimin only glares daggers out the front window.
”I thought you actually might wanna see this shop,” Yoongi says, looking at his phone. ”It’s kinda quirky looking on Google. Nothing special but definitely very Minji—”
”Don’t you understand!?” Jimin flares and throws his hands in the air. ”I don’t want to be here at all!” His chest heaves and he looks so fucking torn. Torn as in he battles with himself over wanting to follow the map meticulously or just throw the whole thing out the window and let it be swept away with the hot afternoon wind.
”Let’s just stick to the route, that's the whole point,” Jungkook argues. Somehow it was not the right thing to say. Jimin crosses his arms, squinting at them both in the rearview mirror.
”Stop fucking ganging up on me.”
”We’re not ganging up on you, you’re being ridiculous,” Jungkook says, trying to focus on driving instead of his spiking frustration.
Right now they were on a high road, beyond that were nothing but flat yellow fields as far as anyone could see. Jungkook almost wished they were back in the city where they could at least flee to a taxi or a café or even back home if they needed to get away. But they can’t. They’re stuck with their bottled up feelings in the claustrophobic space of a single damn car for the next coming days like some fucked up test that Jungkook was sure they would fail.
”Like you haven’t already been ganging up on me for months, planning this shit!” Jimin retorts.
”Like I could have ganged up with either of you even if I wanted,” Jungkook spits bitterly.
He knows he shouldn’t but there was a lot of pent up frustration inside of him too. It had boiled and simmered for quite a while now. His boyfriends weren’t the only ones affected by this mess even if some irrationally wounded part of him sometimes thought they believed so.
”What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jimin snarls.
”Why are you angry with me?” Yoongi scowls.
”Oh, god forbid he would ever be upset with you,” Jimin scoffs. ”Have you even seen the outside of your studio in the past three months, hyung?”
”What the—” Yoongi is about to hiss a retort, probably to say something like he spent the nights in there for work when all of them knew he did it to drink alone. But Jungkook is faster.
”Will you two ever fucking SHUT UP!?” Suddenly he feels like hitting something solid, or maybe screaming until his lungs hurt. ”This is exactly my point, all you guys do is either fight or hide! I’m so fucking sick of it!”
The car goes silent. Probably shocked, but Jungkook doesn’t look at their reactions. He doesn’t need to. It was rarely a time he could ever remember yelling at his boyfriends. They both could be at each other's necks more often than not, even long before all this shit started. But back then Jungkook knew it had nothing to do with how much they loved one another, though lately he wasn’t so sure anymore and he himself had never really been like that. Now however he’s so pissed he’s scared he might ram someone.
But while he sure is angry he’s not very keen on actually causing an accident, so by the next convenient emergency stopping spot he flicks on the blinkers and pulls over by the side of the road. It’s just a long square of absolute nothingness, grass and asphalt divided by a clump of concrete from the main road. Jungkook steps on the brakes, cuts the engine, hurls himself outside and slams the door shut, stalking off along the grass.
Away from the car’s AC the air is thick with dust, hot in the afternoon sun. So far south the summers could become really dry if you didn’t stay closer to the sea. Jungkook heaves a couple shaky breaths, raking a hand through his hair. He already knows nobody will come after him. He’s sure Jimin is crying by now and Yoongi would never be able to tear himself from trying to console him. Especially not now, not like this on this stupid fucking trip.
Jungkook doesn’t blame them. Not for that. He doesn’t really blame himself either. He just needed some air or he would have exploded. He was only so human and sometimes lately they made him so damn angry he didn’t know what to do, especially when they only fought instead of talked like adults. Because of this, Jungkook is so far into his head he nearly jumps out of his skin when a car door slams behind him and quick footsteps approaches.
”Jungkook! Wait — Please, ” Yoongi’s strained voice reaches his ears. He sounds like he’s been running a marathon and Jungkook is honestly surprised he’s even there at all. He twirls around when Yoongi grabs his arm. Jungkook stifles a sob and wipes a sleeve over his nose when he realises he’s crying. Somehow he’d been too angry to even notice.
”Baby, what did you mean by that?” Yoongi holds his face and frantically wipes his thumbs over Jungkook’s wet cheeks, stroking messy hair out of his face. Jungkook's eyes burn and he unwillingly lets out a small sob.
”I can’t do this anymore!”
”Can’t do what…?”
Yoongi sounds so scared, looks scared, eyes wide and voice a hoarse whisper, and still Jungkook thinks he’s one of the two most beautiful people in the world, even in his threadbare old hoodie and unkept undercut hair. From the bottom of his heart Jungkook hates that Yoongi sounds so scared. But he hates what they are doing even more.
”I can’t deal with you both fighting all the time, hyung! Either that or you lock yourselves up all alone. You just argue among yourselves. It’s like I’m not even fucking there!”
Yoongi flinches, deep worried crease between his brows, lips parting like he wants to speak but isn’t sure what to say. ”We don’t… I didn’t think—” he tries but Jungkook cuts him off.
”Well, that's how it feels.” Jungkook turns to walk away, twisting free from Yoongi’s hands. He was still angry, needed to be alone before he said something he might regret.
”We didn’t know that’s how you felt, Kook. You never told us,” Yoongi says loudly.
Jungkook can hear the frustration in his voice even if he doesn’t look. Suddenly he feels even worse, alarmingly guilty and upset with himself since he knows Yoongi is right. He should have told them, but it hadn’t been that easy. He just wished they would have noticed, just a little bit.
”I never found the time,” he croaks, turning back to glance at Yoongi. ”There was never a good moment to tell you. It was always about Jimin, and I get that! I really do, that’s not the problem. But if it wasn’t about him it was about you two not being able to talk to each other, and if you didn’t fight you didn't even stay in the same room. How could I tell you when I feel like I haven’t been on the same planet as either of you for months?”
Jungkook blinks several times as his throat laces up and his eyes burn wetly again. Yoongi looks pained, thoroughly stunned but also desperately reaching for him and this time Jungkook lets him.
”I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, pulling him into a hug. Jungkook nearly chokes because the awful sad truth, the reality that was eating on them more than they probably understood, was that Jungkook could barely remember the last time either of them actually hugged.
”Baby, I’m sorry— I didn’t know… of course we should’ve asked how you felt… it’s not all about us,” Yoongi rambles frantically, close to his ear. ”It’s just been so fucking much.”
”I know,” Jungkook sighs and buries his face in Yoongi’s hoodie. It smells like him, like home and their cheap fabric softener and remains of Yoongi’s citrus perfume. God, it felt like decades since he’d last felt that scent up close.
”Please don’t run away, I can’t split myself in two,” Yoongi pleads quietly and runs his hands over Jungkook’s back. It feels so nice, so familiar. Jungkook wants to stay like that forever, melt into him and disappear.
”I wasn’t gonna run away, I just needed some air,” he mumbles, muffled into Yoongi’s shoulder.
”Okay… Okay, good.”
”Is Jimin crying?”
”Mm,” Yoongi hums, turning to press a kiss to Jungkook’s temple. Jungkook blinks hard, very nearly cries again too.
”Go back to him.”
Yoongi shakes his head against Jungkook’s hair. ”Come with me. He needs you too, you know? I know he doesn’t tell you but he feels so fucking guilty about a lot of shit, especially dragging you into this.”
Jungkook almost says that he didn’t know, mostly because that was what it had felt like lately. But he also knows that’s not true. ”What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks instead. ”You’re in this just as much as I am.”
”Yeah,” Yoongi scoffs. ”But I’ve dealt with his ass since we still lived with our parents and had to sneak out to the playground just to hold hands. I can’t possibly bail now.”
Yoongi jokes, he knows that, but Jungkook frowns, nearly jerking away. Something twists in his chest but he’s not sure if it’s something sad or pure raw affection.
Sure, he had thought about it, he wouldn’t lie. During those fucked up lonely days when neither of them had said a word to each other in forty eight hours despite still living together. When Jimin couldn’t keep up with his job and only stayed in bed, Jungkook spent his nights sleepless on the couch watching TV until his brain began to rot, and Yoongi locked himself in his studio doing god knows what. He’d wondered if they would all break up soon, go different ways. Somehow it felt unimaginable to him, like something he couldn’t grasp even if he knew it was a very real possibility. Maybe it would be for the best instead of hurting each other more. But one thing he’d never even considered was leaving the two of them behind.
”Hyung, I would never leave you guys just because of something neither of us can help,” Jungkook says, almost offended. ”Unless you want me to—”
”No, no. God, that’s not what I meant,” Yoongi holds him closer, probably feeling Jungkook going rigid. His voice suddenly sounds strained and uncertain and Jungkook hates it. Yoongi rarely sounded uncertain. He was calm and solid and collected and their rock that they cramp-like held on to in hot and cold.
”I- I just meant that… If you wanted out, none of us would ever blame you, Kook. We would understand.” Yoongi’s voice wavers. Jungkook feels like he’s gonna throw up. Did they really think he wanted to leave?
”Well that’s not happening,” he spits and clings to Yoongi’s shoulders, hugging him tight. ”You won’t get rid of me that easily, even if you act like two hot headed idiots more often than not.”
Yoongi exhales shakily against his neck, forehead pressed against his shoulder, like he was holding his breath with his whole body. He leans back, threading his hands in Jungkook's hair while looking at him. There’s a smile on his face reaching all the way up to his eyes, faint and fucking fragile but it’s there and Jungkook feels like crying again.
”Don’t tell him,” Jungkook blurts out, suddenly nearly panicking. ”Please don’t tell Jimin what I said before. He’ll blame himself and feel even worse.”
Yoongi is silent for a moment, probably actually contemplating, because in the end both he and Jungkook would always look out for Jimin, just as he would look out for them.
”I think it will be worse if we don’t tell him,” Yoongi says eventually, slowly pulling away. ”You’re right, we clearly have a lot of shit we need to talk about.”
Jungkook sighs as they start to walk back, wiping a sleeve over his stuffy nose and red brimmed eyes. For one holy second he nearly dies of fright when Jimin isn’t in the car. A billion horrible thoughts swirl in his head until Yoongi tugs on his sleeve and he spots Jimin sitting on the grass a couple hundred feet away.
Jimin is sad, Jungkook knows that. He’d known that for a long time, but somehow he thinks this is some other type of sad than the one he’d been battling for the past year.
Silently, without a word, he and Yoongi slump down on each of Jimin’s sides, right on the dirty grass. The sun burns their knees and cars swish by behind them in deafening speed. Jungkook honestly expects Jimin to pull away, to shrug them off and say he’s fine and then clam himself up like usual. But somehow this time he doesn’t. When Yoongi hooks an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close he leans into him all pliantly. When Jungkook intertwines their hands Jimin squeezes back and tugs him closer to his side.
”It will be alright,” Yoongi sighs, mumbling against Jimin’s temple. We will be alright, is what Jungkook wants to hear.
”You always say that. ’Doesn’t mean shit,” Jimin sniffs but nuzzles his face against Yoongi’s neck, then he lifts Jungkook’s hand to press it against his lips. It’s such a small thing, but after so long it feels like a bandaid on those invisible wounds.
”Then I’ll keep saying it until it becomes true.”
—
The sky blends into some dark mix between black, orange and magenta. Jungkook has been driving for a good five hours and it had started to feel in his back and legs even long before Yoongi fell asleep.
However much he resented the trip Jimin tried to stay awake so Jungkook wouldn’t need to drive alone, but he struggled and Jungkook didn’t have the heart to wake him. He did fine alone for a couple hours anyway, when it was still bright outside and the road was endless and only went straight forward. Now it was evening and they had reached another stop.
”Where are we?” Jimin asks, peering bleary eyed out the window.
”Who knows?” Jungkook says. ”I just followed the map.”
”There’s literally nothing here, a gas station and a convenience store,” Jimin rubs his eyes. ”What the fuck kinda rural town is this? Are we gonna spend the night in a parking lot?”
Jungkook only gives him a tired shrug. His belly growls and his shoulders feel stiff. He wouldn’t mind a hot shower but the possibilities seemed feeble. ”There’s a diner marked on the map,” he says. ”I guess we’ll go there and see what happens.”
The diner is something taken directly from a vintage movie, except it’s probably scarily authentic. There’s music spilling from wall-hanged speakers, lazy tunes of some obscure old rock song. Burgundy round barstools are spread in front of a counter and equally deep red and plastic sofas make up little booths by the windows. The black and white tiled floors look nearly psychedelic and the red walls are covered in countless polaroids, postcards and post-it notes.
Fluorescent lights flare white hot in their eyes as they step inside, Jungkook nearly laughs at Yoongi looking like a newly woken hissing vampire. But his amusement dies a little when he sees Jimin stopping dead as soon as they get inside. For a moment he just stands there, hugging himself with a confused frown, eyes roaming around the room.
”You okay?” Jungkook asks, grabs Jimin’s hand and tugs him along. He follows but looks fairly lost in thoughts.
”Why would she want us to go here?” he mumbles absently, scrunching his nose. He rarely talked out loud about Minji nowadays, it was like the name-who-must-not-be-mentioned, but when he did it always stabbed something in Jungkook’s heart.
However, it was indeed a good question. Except for them and a chef standing in the oozing greasy kitchen the diner was nearly empty. Not very surprising considering it seemed to live around fifty people in total in this shithole. But there were a couple old patreons seated by the bar and a family with no less than seven kids in a booth in the back. Either that or they had a birthday party.
”I’m so hungry I could eat anything,” Jungkook mutters when they slump down into a booth, scanning the menu like some salivating stray dog.
”What do you want, Minnie?” Yoongi hums, reading a menu of his own. Jimin still looks like he’s mentally trying to solve a riddle while frowning at the walls.
”Milkshake.”
”Milkshake? Babe, you need food.”
”Fries.”
”Jimin.”
”Fries with milkshake… Do you think this place has been in a movie?”
Yoongi sighs, lays down the menu and rests his chin in his hand. ”Maybe, it sure looks like it. Why?”
”I feel like I’ve seen it before…”
Though confused, Jimin soon focuses back on the table, meekly agrees to having a burger with his fries when Yoongi gives him an exasperated look. After a few minutes a girl pops out to take their order. She’s young, fried blonde hair, dressed in a retro inspired pink shirt and looks like she’d rather be literally anywhere else in the world than in this exact spot. Jungkook almost feels bad for her.
Their food arrives, and despite the whole day’s gut wrenching quarrels making them lose appetite, all of them wolf down their burgers like they haven't eaten in weeks, even Jimin. After that they pour all their fries in one big pile on a tray like they always did — probably by habit though none of them comment on it — to dip in whatever substance they want to dip in while sipping on their milkshakes.
Maybe it’s the fluorescent lights burning their brains in, or the content tiredness settling after a good meal, but something about the place seems to have them all relaxing, even just for a little bit. Jungkook is seated opposite his boyfriends and he watches the little telltale signs of Jimin wanting affection. It had been such a long time since he saw it that it almost has him mesmerized.
”You think those are all their kids?” Jimin hums while spying on the family a couple booths away. He squirms a little, chews on a fry and slowly scoots closer to Yoongi’s side.
”I hope not,” Yoongi says. ”Seems stressful.”
When Jimin stifles a yawn behind a hand and rests his head against his shoulder, Yoongi picks up a fry and dips it in his milkshake before holding it up to Jimin’s mouth.
”Looks kinda cute,” Jimin says and lets Yoongi feed him the fry while staying pressed against his side. Yoongi honest to god looks slightly stunned, which probably is sad, but he quickly shifts to curl an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, dipping another fry in milkshake.
”You want seven kids, love?” he teases and feeds Jimin the fry. Jungkook sinks back in his seat, smiles to himself and watches them both silently.
”We can barely take care of ourselves,” Jimin scoffs, but turns his face to press his nose against Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi smiles a little, dips another fry in the milkshake and this time he holds it up to Jungkook.
”You know I don’t like that,” Jungkook crosses his arms and scrunches his nose.
”Weirdo,” Jimin teases as Yoongi feeds him the fry instead. Without a word Yoongi dips another fry, but in ketchup this time, and holds it towards Jungkook. Jungkook rolls his eyes but leans forward and lets Yoongi feed it to him anyway with a satisfied smirk.
”Now you,” Jimin grins deviously and dips a fry in both milkshake and ketchup, holding up to Yoongi’s mouth.
”I’m not eating that shit,” Yoongi scoffs, leaning away while grimacing wildly. ”Eugh, fuck off.”
”Yes, you have to,” Jimin giggles and chases him with the fry. And it’s so stupid, childish at best, but it’s probably the first time in what felt like half a lifetime that either of them had heard Jimin laugh.
Both Jungkook and Yoongi stare wide eyed, lips parted and bodies frozen in awe.
”What…?” Jimin blinks at them, squirms a little uncomfortable at their staring, until Yoongi promptly grabs Jimin’s hand and lets him shove the whole gross fry into his mouth.
Yoongi makes a funny disgusted face and Jimin throws his head back and cackles happily, eyes creasing. Jungkook feels a little bit like crying again. He would rather not though; cry in the middle of a shitty diner because his adult boyfriends were playing with food. So instead he laughs with them, bubbly and warm while sipping on his soggy milkshake.
When they are done eating, they stroll up to the counter to pay. Jungkook throws an arm around Jimin and mumbles about the awful fluorescent lights while Yoongi waits for the waitress to cash them out. The lady behind the counter is not the same as the girl taking their order before, maybe they were family. She’s older and looks like she’s been living and aging along with the very diner herself.
”You don’t happen to know any camping spots nearby?” Yoongi hums while paying for their food. They still had no fucking idea where to spend the night. ”I assume there are no motels here?”
”Oh no, honey. No motels,” the woman says. ”There’s a camping spot by the lake though, a couple minutes north. Very popular with the youths back in my days. I’m not so sure how it’s doing now though.”
”Thanks,” Yoongi nods. It would have to do. It was probably better than sleeping in the car parked behind a gas station where they most likely would end up robbed and murdered in their sleep.
”I... I’m sorry… Before you leave, I have to ask,” the lady says when Yoongi is done paying. She leans against the counter, waving her hand. ”I can never keep my mouth shut. You see, we don’t get many outsiders visiting, but you look so much like someone who used to come here.”
Jungkook looks up, curiously drawn from his conversation with Jimin. He expects the lady to be talking to Yoongi, however odd that would have been, but when he never answers both he and Jimin glance their way. The lady leans casually against the counter, chin propped in her hand, all the wrinkles around her eyes pull in a happy smile when she looks towards Jimin.
”Me?” Jimin says, looking around, thoroughly confused. Jungkook slowly lets go of him as he steps forward.
”Of course, dear. I could never forget. Aren’t you that happy little kid that learnt to walk in our parking lot?” The lady laughs heartily. Jungkook can practically feel Jimin go stone cold by his side, heart dropping and inhaling sharply.
”What?”
”I’m pretty sure your mom told me that story every single time she was here. Lovely woman, but very strange, if you don’t mind. Very young, of course.” The lady keeps talking, droning on and on and Jungkook isn’t sure if he should stop her or let her keep going. ”Well, that sure was a while now, wasn’t it? But you still look just the same, just like her! Didn’t you know?”
Jimin mutedly shakes his head, hands trembling against his sides. The woman seems fairly oblivious to his underlying breakdown. Jungkook very much isn’t, but he also doesn’t know what to do. Yoongi looks equally helpless, if not worse.
”I even got some pictures somewhere,” the old lady muses and moves away from the counter. She crosses the room, slippers clapping against the tiles, and stops near the entrance door. She scans the walls while scratching her chin until she finds a couple polaroids taped up in a cluster, yellow with age but still in a much better condition than a lot of the other pictures on the walls.
”Ah, here they are! You took your very first steps in that parking lot. She was so proud of you, said it was unusual for such young kids to walk so early. You were quite stubborn, if I remember. Well, she was too, so I guess it runs in the family. She would never let anyone live that memory down without telling it a billion times!”
The lady rips a polaroid from the wall, turns to shove it into Jimin’s hands. There are more pictures but this in particular seemed to be the main piece. Jungkook and Yoongi stay close to his sides, peering over his shoulder at the photo.
In the picture is Minji, a lot younger. So awfully young actually. That was probably the saddest part; she’d never grown very old. She married young, had a kid early, divorced by the time most people settled down. To be honest, that was a very Minji thing to do, but it must still have been so very difficult. Jimin sure knew it had been, what with no other family around. Yoongi knew a lot about it and Jungkook a fair deal too. But the laughing baby version of Jimin in the picture was happily unaware, chubby hands cramped around Minji’s slim ones while walking over the open gravely parking lot.
”Oh, honey, is something wrong?” The lady frowns when Jimin doesn’t answer.
Jungkook’s breath echoes overbearingly loud in his head, two tiny droplets of water splatter on the tiled floor like an earthquake by Jimin’s feet. A small strangled sob ripples through the crappy rock music and Jungkook watches Jimin inhale a deep shuddering breath.
”She—” he clears his throat thickly, voice muffled behind his hand. ”She passed away recently.” Jungkook is honestly proud of his composure, but he also wants to drag his boyfriend from this room and let him scream his lungs out into the night.
The lady looks stunned, short fingers pressed against her mouth, then she looks genuinely sad. ”Oh, honey, that’s awful to hear. I’m so sorry—”
Jimin quickly shakes his head. Yoongi puts a hand to his back and Jungkook swears to every higher being that if Jimin says he’s fine he will plunge a fist through the concrete wall. Surprisingly, he doesn’t.
”Can I keep this?” Jimin blinks some tears away clinging to his lashes. The lady nods feverishly. ”Of course, love. You can take them all.”
”No,” Jimin smiles faintly, looking at the other pictures on the walls, clutching the one on his hands to his chest. ”I want them to stay here. They belong here, capsuled in the past.”
__
The lake lays dark and quiet in the tranquil night. Out there no lights from any city reached between the woods. Moonlight falls cold on still water and stars twinkles silently in the sky. Around the lake is a wide spread meadow of trampled grass and wildflowers, but beyond that are only trees.
”Shit, what if we get murdered? This place is creepy.” Jungkook shivers a little in the damp night air. He’s still only dressed in hoodie and shorts. Yoongi stands bent, halfway crawled, into the back of the car, trying to make up some makeshift bed of sleeping bags and pillows.
Jimin had been withdrawn ever since they left the diner. Sometimes they heard him sniffing quietly from the back seat, asked to be alone whenever they talked to him, but he’d still for some unfathomable reason taped up a battery driven string light inside the car. It was such a Jimin thing it made Jungkook want to haul him into a hug and never let go, but he also knew Jimin wanted space.
”There’s literally nobody here and I’m sure even less people know this place exists. I’m not very worried,” Yoongi says. ”I’d be more concerned about mosquitos eating our faces or being cold.”
”I’ll eat your face and keep you warm,” Jungkook wiggles his brows. Yoongi snorts, actually looking a tiny bit amused while crawling into the car. There he slumps down on the sleeping bags, tiredly rubbing his eyes.
”Baby?” Yoongi asks. ”Jimin-ah…?” Jimin gives a small hum. The light from his phone illuminates his face. Jungkook sits in the trunk opening, watching stars blink in and out behind clouds. ”Don’t you wanna come and lay down?”
There’s silence for a moment. Jungkook already knows Jimin contemplates excuses and options to run away, he always did. ”I think I’ll go for a walk,” he says eventually, voice raspy. ”I’m not tired yet.”
Jungkook knew that was probably a fat lie, Yoongi too. But neither of them felt like stopping him, only sad that he clammed up all his feelings in some hard dark ball instead of letting it out.
”Don’t go too far,” Yoongi mumbles, probably trying to not sound too dejected.
”Bring your phone,” Jungkook says. Jimin hurries out of the car, pack of cigarettes cramped in his hand as he slams the door shut and disappears into the darkness around the lake.
Eventually Jungkook kicks off his shoes, crawls inside too, lays down beside Yoongi and leaves the trunk door open for Jimin. They would have to sleep with the damn mosquitoes but he didn’t really care. All he wanted was to lay down and hold his boyfriends, and in any normal case he would have wormed in next to Yoongi, pressed his face into his neck and been all over him even if they were alone, just as all of them would have done if one was briefly away. Kind of one of the perks of having two boyfriends. But right now everything was upside down. It didn’t feel right. He knew Yoongi felt it too because he stayed away.
Yoongi lays on his back, exhales deeply with hands pressed over his face. Jungkook can feel his frustration and sorrow mirror in himself, storming and choking, briefly held at bay but hopelessly unable to help however much they wanted.
”I wish—” Jungkook croaks. He quickly clears his throat, surprising himself with how strained his voice sounds. ”I wish he wouldn’t push us away.”
Yoongi doesn’t answer but Jungkook knows he feels the same. He wants to hold him, hold his hands, hold his face, hug him, anything. But he doesn't dare to, the distance between them felt as far as the actual distance between them and Jimin.
Jungkook blinks hard when his eyes fog over, watches the little string light in the ceiling blur and flicker, wavering in and out. Suddenly it just stops glowing all together, and deep down in some fucked up part of his brain, Jungkook is certain it’s some kind of sign.
__
At some point Jungkook forgot to count the minutes, perhaps he even drifted off for a while. It had been an awfully long day, but he doubted he could actually fall asleep like this, not deeply. Neither could Yoongi.
It felt like an eternity since Jimin left. The door is still open and outside only the noise of crickets and wind rustling the trees echoes over the quiet lake. When Jungkook is sure Yoongi’s squirming and nervous fidgeting is gonna drive him insane he’s ready to storm outside to go find their boyfriend himself. But that’s when they hear quick padding footsteps approaching in the grass.
Jungkook sits up. He spots a dark shadow walking closer, the tiny glow of a cigarette and Jimin hugging himself like he’s cold. His lower lip wobbles when he lifts a half burned cigarette to his mouth. It would be pitch black but moonlight falls on his face and illuminates puffy eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Jimin stops by the car, drops the cigarette to stomp it out, but doesn’t get inside. He only stands there and looks at them when Yoongi jolts up too.
”Can— Can I come inside?” Jimin whispers. He looks so small then, so lost and vulnerable, like he really tries not to but ends up in tears anyway. Bewildered, Jungkook scrambles over to take Jimin’s hand.
”Of course you can, what are you even talking about?”
Jimin doesn’t really answer, not really able to with the way his body racks out a sob, one hand pressed over his mouth. ”Shit, Jimin...” Yoongi curses. ”Baby, come here.” His voice sounds thick as he pulls Jimin into his arms when he crawls inside. Jungkook closes the trunk behind them before they all fall down and wriggles into the pile of sleeping bags.
”I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry, I’m—” Jimin bubbles incoherently and presses his face into Yoongi’s chest.
”What are you even apologizing for?” Jungkook asks, alarmed and holds Jimin around his middle. He buries his face in his neck and lets Jimin cramp-like tangle their fingers together over his belly.
”For walking away, for being like this,” he sobs, half turning to Jungkook while repeatedly wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve. ”I feel like I’m ruining everything, all the time, but I can’t help it. I wanted to give you guys some time alone, ’thought maybe you needed it. B-but I miss you so much. I can’t even give you that, I’m sorry—”
”Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Yoongi exhales heavily. He grabs Jimin’s face and presses kisses to his forehead and cheeks. Jungkook can hear how relieved Yoongi is, but also how his voice breaks. Jungkook is also relieved, happy that Jimin came back, but he nearly chokes on the fat lump growing in his throat.
”Unless you actually want to be alone, don’t ever walk away like that again, okay?” he mutters into Jimin’s neck, blinking away fresh tears rolling down his nose.
Jimin nods, and cranes his neck to press a kiss to Yoongi’s jaw, reaching up to wipe a tear from his cheek. Yoongi stays silent but cards a hand through Jimin’s hair, carefully pressing his lips to his brow. Jimin sighs and squirms around, resting his head on Jungkook’s chest and lets him hold him close. Yoongi hugs Jimin from the other side, throwing his arm over them both. For a while they just lay there in silence, hearts hammering and breath calming.
”Why did you turn off the lights…?” Jimin asks eventually. His voice sounds so small Jungkook doesn’t even know if he should laugh or cry some more.
”We didn’t,” Yoongi says. ”I think the batteries died.”
”Dude, I thought it was some bad omen. I got so fucking scared,” Jungkook snorts weakly.
”Me too, I was ready to go get you, Minnie,” Yoongi huffs.
”Oh,” Jimin laughs wetly, wiping his nose again.
”We’ll buy new batteries tomorrow,” Yoongi mumbles, kissing Jimin’s neck. ”Enough so you can have them lit up in goddamn daylight too.”
Jimin giggles a little, but pretty soon falls into shaky silence again. Jungkook knew he was sad and it wouldn’t just go away after some lighthearted words, however much he wished it would. It was always there now, would probably always be there. Hopefully with time it would morph into something less stabbing, dulling out in a hollow ache instead of overwhelming pain. Not to be forgotten, but perhaps filled with other things making it seem less prominent, less heartbreaking and more about remembering fond memories.
They don’t sleep much that night. Jimin seems inconsolable and utterly unable to stop crying. It was like something had broken and now it was impossible to close, only going up and down like waves. It hadn’t been this bad since the first couple days after Minji passed, because after that it seemed like he’d just stopped feeling anything at all. Perhaps bottling up so much grief for so many months had to come out at some point. Even if it hurt him to no extent, Jungkook thought it was probably healthy.
Neither of them say much, but they hold each other close and it’s so much better than being separated, or ignoring each other or hiding, like they had done for months. They whisper gentle things until the black sky turns grey, birds chirp in the woods and they drift off into an exhausted sleep.