Our Rain Soaked Bodies | YOONJIN

8. SATURATED SUNLIGHT

THE FIRST THING that comes to Seokjin's mind in the morning was why the fuck his back is hurting like a goddamn old man. He shifts, then sinks into a soft-like-cloud bed that uncharacteristically belongs to only one man on earth. Seokjin is in Yoongi's bed and that pretty much immediately answers his own question.

He sits up, his first instinct is to find Yoongi but his head was spinning like a damn carousel and it is a miracle that it stayed on his shoulders. Yoongi, himself, is nowhere to be seen. The apartment is seemingly silent and vacant, Seokjin is still in his yesterday's clothes, so he idly wonders if he magically transported through a locked door and barged himself into Yoongi's place.

He tries to stand up but his weak legs almost give up under him. "Christ," Seokjin mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead in a tired manner. How long did he sleep? 3 or 4 hours?

Once he makes sure that he wasn't nauseous or on the brink of throwing up his stomach contents all over the hardwood floor, Seokjin heads to the bathroom. With the faucet on and cold water running, Seokjin scrubs his stiff face and finally looks in the mirror with water dripping down from his chin; surely had he looked better on other days.

With practiced reflex, Seokjin grabs Yoongi's toothpaste from mirror cabinet, squeezes it onto his index finger and scours his mouth with it as a makeshift toothbrush. It's not a pleasant activity, his skin running on the ragged edges of his teeth and it never really clean more than getting rid of morning breath. He never bothered to get a toothbrush for Yoongi's place; why would he since they're just hooking up? But if he keeps coming to Yoongi's then he should get one and cut the hassle of getting ready in the future, he can even drop off some spare clothes for himself—

[I love you.]

Seokjin grabs the edge of the sink with his hand, bracing himself as the sudden glister of recall flashes through his mind yet again. His body tenses like it's been struck with electricity and his heart slams into his ribs. He tastes sourness on the back of his tongue as he accidentally swallows bits of the toothpaste in the attempt to breathe little easier. He glances back up to his reflection and winces.

When they started seeing each other, it was never meant to have a future. No strings and no baggage. But now Seokjin—subconsciously or not—was thinking about a future, the one with Yoongi in it.

[I love you too.]

In the deep down, he is afraid—afraid of the three words mean nothing more than fever talk to Yoongi, or even more afraid of Yoongi actually meaning it then later see Seokjin as he is and realizing what a mistake of loving him he made.

The phantom whispers echo in his head, till it turns into full shrieking screams—it screams with Yoongi's voice, it screams with tenderness in every syllable, it screams I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE—

Seokjin slams the bathroom door behind him, when the heavy bang silences the words at once, he finally exhales shakingly in the gratifying stillness of solitary white noise as he stands in the apartment hallway.

At the end of the corridor, the bottle-dyed head pokes out. "Hey, morning. Are you okay?" A shy smile is on Yoongi's lips and one of his eyebrows is raised in a questioning gesture.

"Ugh—yeah,"

"I have just made some breakfast, I dunno whether it's good." Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair in a nervous manner but the tension in him melts out of his shoulder when their eyes meet. "But come here and try it. I have a migraine pill for you too, if you need it."

As fast as the sheer panic that has rushed over Seokjin, the maelstrom that was in his head finally settles down and he breathes little easier.

"Okay." He barely mutters and Yoongi disappears into the kitchen with a nod, leaving Seokjin alone again.

With nobody to catch his truth in the gloomy ill-lit hallway, he whispers those words himself, I love you, just to know whether it sounds same on his own lips.

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