Laundromat Machine

for

Yoongi left Namjoon's appartment after sitting on the floor for aproximately eighteen hours, it was night time and he felt like getting his lungs filled with something that wasn't the smell of Namjoon's used bed sheets and the hot dust he left after taking a long shower.

His cologne sticked in the air and Yoongi felt like the scent was eating him alive, slowly was he losing his senses and it even sticked on his shirt.

He knew a place that could clean him up, he checked his phone and his eyes glanced over the usual missed calls, mostly it were around three to seven and just another offended message.

'What am I even going to work then for?'

Because Mom didn't want you to drink so much|

Because Mom didn't wa|

Because Mom|

|

He sticked his phone back in the pocket of his used jeans and opened the doors to the washing saloon, as expected, Jungkook caught his eyes. He was sitting in another corner and watching the laundromat machine work, but it seemed as Yoongi entered, a feeling of general warmth spread over him. Suddenly the room was just less empty than before.

Maybe it was for the better if Yoongi would just forget about his responsibilities for another night.

But it would be completly different.

Jungkook was a quiet guy, but he made Yoongi curious about his potential. He had the eyes of somebody who lived a good childhood, with all the extras.

Bruised knees, candy and adventures.

Jungkook looked like a boy that had been taken care of properly, with one of those mom's, who'd bring their child's lunch if they forgot to pack it. A mom with a lot of time and twice as much love must be his mom, Yoongi thought to himself, while he watched him innocently playing with his fingers and smiling at Yoongi slightly as he approached him.

Yoongi knew he must've looked like somebody moms would've warned their childs about, but maybe that was why Jungkook seemed so attached already to the male.

Because he desired the things that had been kept away from him.

He desired the pain, the real pain.

Not only a scratch and cut, he wanted to feel what it must be like to lose his heart and get it in somebody's hands, cold icy ones, that would cut through the warm muscle like sharp blades through his abused wrist.

Jungkook was taught to marry a lovely wife that would love him and bake his favourite cake for him and their children, but he never found himself really in need of such a wife.

He felt in need of the real love.

Not the warm and careful kind of peaking lips and holding hands.

His mind was like glass and his thoughts were irational liquid that yelled to be free, he wanted to hold the hand of somebody who would shatter his mind and lose every piece of it, somebody so toxic, every kiss would poison him and make him spit out blood and guts.

And there was Jungkook sitting, looking at Yoongi when slowly warm sticky blood dripped down his chin.

Perhaps Yoongi was an alternative to the blades, but instead of cutting Jungkook's skin, he broke the glass and gave Jungkook this burning sensation of knives cutting through his heart.

,,A nosebleed again?"

,,I guess I'm gonna keep your shirt forever."