"if
the ocean
can calm itself,
so can you.
we
are both
salt water
mixed with
air."
― Nayyirah Waheed
_ _
They're in Amsterdam and Autumn is settling in - all the leaves dying on the trees and the wind sharp enough to bite, to sink its teeth into your cheeks and nose and prick like glass shards in your lungs when you breathe it in. Last night, they played to a sold out crowd at the Ziggo Dome and Jungkook is still a little drunk off the cheers, off thousands of voices singing their songs, in spite of lingering frustration at his injury - at being stuck in a chair and potentially letting down everyone who came to seem them. He already battled through the crush of failure, though - drank a little too much, then did a VLive where he could finally put all his churning thoughts in order - and tonight was a good one.
Tomorrow is a free day - a breath between now and the two days of concerts in Berlin - and Jungkook's looking forward to it. Wants a few hours in the city before they have to leave for the next one, just to wander and take pictures and maybe hold his boyfriend's hand.
His boyfriend: Yoongi.
It's both new and isn't. Something that's bloomed slow between them for what feels like years, but only gained a label six months ago, when Yoongi asked him to the studio one night and then asked him out on a date, shy and stuttering. They couldn't really go out - didn't want to risk that - so that date was Chinese takeout in the studio the next night. Yoongi lit a little candle for romantic atmosphere and kissed Jungkook squeezed onto his tiny couch, and it was honestly everything Jungkook could have wanted.
They told the others two nights later - hands gripped tight as they sat on the couch in their dorm and got the story out in one rambling spiel. No one was really surprised, everyone cautioned them to be careful. But it wasn't a strong warning, because they're all used to secrets, to being careful, to the things that they've had to keep hidden since long before debut.
Still, him and Yoongi have been careful. No overt affection outside the ordinary when in public, no dates beyond the safety of the dorm and the studio, kisses only behind locked doors. Not many people know his name in Amsterdam, though, so Jungkook wants a proper date, while they have this fleeting chance.
"It'll be fun," Yoongi murmurs when Jungkook slips into his hotel room well after midnight. He looks half-asleep already. Like most of them, he's been stressed and close to sick lately, pushing himself far too hard and worrying far too much when Jungkook got injured, but he still insisted that he wanted to go out - as long as they take it slow. "But sleep now."
Jungkook hums and curls up under the covers, draping himself across Yoongi's back to be the big spoon and running his fingers through Yoongi's red hair. "I like this hair on you, hyung," he says. "Don't know if I ever said."
Yoongi huffs, but it's a pleased sound. "You did, but thanks. Now-"
"Sleep, I know," Jungkook teases and presses a kiss to Yoongi's neck.
He drifts off faster than he anticipated, but wakes up with a jolt only a few hours later to the sound of quiet wheezing next to him. It's pained, horribly familiar, and Jungkook scrambles upright, fumbling for the lamp and nearly pitching it off the dresser in his haste to turn it on. He manages to catch it, though, and a click echoes through the room before everything turns hazy and gold, light illuminating the bed and a glint of scales.
