Laundromat Machine

my

Yoongi's figure was one of the slim, almost female kind. His waistline was slightly smaller than his hips and his shirt would always hang down his shoulders and leave this bit of space between his skin and the fabric, it had become tighter over the years that it had been washed wrong and too often by Yoongi.

It was obvious that Jungkook couldn't wear it, he had gotten his dads naturally wider shoulders.

The shirt of Yoongi laying on his bed looked like it was from a lovely night time visitor and usually Jungkook would make sure to hide it somewhere nobody could see it, but he had been so tired from the night he spent laughing at Yoongi being goofy and loosing a shirt full of blood, that now it was just laying there, under his body that he had plopped onto the matress.

Tired wasn't even the right word, Jungkook was horribly exhausted.

He didn't want to see the mornings, they were too bright for his eyes and he was thinking about how horrible Yoongi's skin must look like in the sun light.

It was so pale and all the marks of fights were painting it, like his skin was some kind of galaxy wallpaper for a phone screen. Sometimes his marks were so strong, they were shining through the fabric of his clothes.

No wonder Yoongi didn't cry after one of his light, plain white shirts.

Jungkook was getting lost in the way he breathed, he had not even noticed how the door swung open and somebody sat down next to his head, patting it. Slightly he brought up his heavy eyelids and he was hit by instant sunlight and the so familiar face, fullfilled lips and a pair of round glasses and even the iconic 2009 Justin Bieber haircut.

,,You've been clinging to this shirt for hours, does it belong to your new girlfriend?"

and he pointed at the piece of clothes below Jungkook.

Jungkook was way too tired to argue and just turned his head away from the handsome twenty - three year old male, that happend to be his only friend in his nineteen years of life. At least the only permanent one. The only one that knew Jungkook well enough to tell what he actually wanted to say but didn't do, due to the heaviness of his eyelids and the fact that the way his voice swung gave him worse headaches.

,,So it's a him."

he mumbled and ran with his fingers through Jungkook's hair earning an approving groan.

,,Jeez kook, you little faggot."

,,I'm gonna kill you, if my mom heard you."

Seokjin sighed, he really cared for the younger and it hurt him to hear that.

,,I've told you, just move to me."

As if Jungkook had never been considering it. Just running away with the most important things, a few pairs of extra socks, his cereal and not to forget his old nintendo, he would take it all with him and run down the few blocks to Seokjin's appartment. He would offer Jungkook all he needed, no bed times, aspirin and a warm blanket. However, Jungkook wasn't raised to run away. It would break his mother's heart and he wasn't one to break hearts. He was one to get his broken if he would be left on his own.

He was supposed to marry young and get children, maybe three and smile at his neighbours whenever they would cross paths and ask how his wife was doing, but at night, he would keep crying.

This would never be what Jungkook really wanted but this was what he wanted the others to see, it was what they thought would be best for Jungkook and they might have been right, if it was Jungkooks intention to live an easy life.

But what was life without a little bit of pain and the bitter taste of blood, he wanted to lick off from Yoongi's lips so bad?