He took his time. Let the hot spray of the shower play across his sore muscle and ease away the tension and ache in his scalp. Let it wash away the sin and the guilt and the traces of what had happened. Felt so much better for being clean again, drying himself with a soft, fluffy towel and glancing over at his little collections of lotions, choosing one that smelled deeper before, like his skin was wrapped in soft warmth. Just like before he had no reason to try and look cute, and silently he mourned the loss of the comfort the thick hoodie had provided. But he would actually rather die than put it back on before it had been washed. So he chose a loose pair of pajama pants instead, pairing them with a dark blue tee shirt and grabbing another hoodie, this one bright white and a little worn and thin. It had always been one of his favorites, the green depiction of Yoshi never failing to make him smile. And somehow it even did now, tugging it down over his head as he tried not to think of how he should spend the rest of his night.
Taking an extra moment, he tossed his soiled clothes into the washer in some desperate attempt to actually save his pants and underwear. He really couldn't afford to keep ruining them. It wasn't like there was anyone actually waiting for him.
Yet there were sounds coming from the living room. Another episode of the drama he had been watching playing on the television, and as he moved into the room, he realized it was because Jungkook staring mindlessly at it. Laying there spread out on his sofa, hand beneath his cheek as a sort of makeshift pillow and his legs curled up to his stomach, he realized that the other looked young. Innocent in a way he hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, the persona that he seemed to slip into. The aura that surrounded him and seemed to roll off in thick waves. But he looked soft now, cheeks fuller now than before. And he watched as someone told some corny joke that shouldn't even have been funny and those dark eyes lit up and his lips upturned and he did absolutely the cutest little bunny smile he had ever seen.
It was so easy to understand why Jimin kept coming back in that moment. He probably got to see this all of the time.
Or maybe he didn't. Maybe no one really knew the real Jungkook.
"You're still here." He didn't meant for it to sound as surprised as it did. As dreamy as it did. Like his heart wasn't pounding out of control within his chest.
"Yeah." That voice sounded different. Softer than before. Like it had those few times when he had slipped out of that persona and into another. But this was slightly off. And he realized in the next second that it was probably Jungkook's real voice. The one he used when he wasn't trying to act like someone else. "Not real excited to go home."
"Want to talk about it?" They weren't friends. He didn't even know what they were. But something inside of him wanted to be there.
"Yoongi and Taehyung are disgusting." It would be a lie to say he didn't let out a soft laugh at that, and he watched as Jungkook rolled over onto his back to face him. "Oh sure, you're laughing now. Just wait until you're trying to play Overwatch and they're beside you trying to eat other's faces."
Suddenly he was glad that they hadn't chosen to infect this place with their loved up antics. Chances were it was because they knew that while he would smile and bear it to their faces, it would only cause his silent suffering later on. But apparently he had just foisted that off onto Jungkook instead.
"Well, you can always crash here if you want." What he really wanted to ask was why Jungkook didn't just go stay with Jimin if it was truly that bad. After all, that was where he had been the night before, wasn't it?
But he didn't actually know. It could have been one of a hundred different things. There was an array of different scenarios that could have played out to keep him from actually coming. His imagination had just latched onto the first thing, to whatever would hurt him the most.
"Gonna share your bed with me sweetheart?" Sweetheart. That one little term of endearment should not make his heart flutter the way it did. Should not have him practically melting into a puddle.
"Mm, I don't know. What's in it for me?" Besides for the warmth of another beside him. He wondered if Jungkook would mind cuddling, and then instantly forced his mind away from that line of thought.
"I'm pretty great at cuddling." It was as if Jungkook could read his thoughts, and he felt the telltale heat rushing into his ears. It only deepened as he watched those arms spread wide open, as if in invitation. "Come here."
There was never going to be any other choice but to do exactly as he was instruction. It was as if he was no longer fully in control of his own body, his feet carrying him across the distance that separated them. Until he could lift himself onto the sofa and positioned himself in the tiny space that had been left next to the other's body.
Only to feel himself being lifted, settling down until they were chest to chest and his legs were spread open and pressed on either side of slender hips. Those arms wrapped around him and tightened, head lifting until he own was tucked into the crook of a warm neck, and he sighed as he felt Jungkook's chin come to rest atop his still damp hair.
It was so nice. So warm and comfortable and everything he had dreamed of. Tight and secure and he felt so safe. Loved. That was the word for it. He felt loved. Despite the way he knew that's definitely not what this was. This wasn't love and this wasn't ever going to be anything near it. Just a moment of affection that his previous actions had afforded him.
They watched the next episode that way. With Seokjin's weight resting on Jungkook, eyes trained on the screen, simply soaking up each other's warmth and comfort. Until he could feel his eyes growing heavy and he knew that sleep was going to take him, despite the way he fought against it. Despite the way he wanted to bask in this feeling for just a little bit longer.
It was like a once in a lifetime opportunity, a set of sensations that he was never going to feel again. Like he was only ever going to be loved in this moment. And then it would be gone, disappearing into the night like it had never existed at all.
