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yoongi woke up to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the smell of salt, the warmth of the sun against his face, the feeling of fingers running through his hair. even though it was the first time he woke up like this, it felt homey, everything cushy and placid around him.
he snuggled closer to the hard warmth underneath him, closer to the low rumbling of somebody humming a melody he didn’t know, but already loved.
the humming stopped, yoongi whined, and the air filled with the mellifluous sound of laughing. obnoxious, but somehow exquisite and alluring.
“what time ‘s it?” yoongi mumbled, eyes still closed.
“almost eight,” seokjin said. “are you hungry?”
“‘m sleepy,” yoongi said, burying his face in seokjin’s neck. it smelled like sea water, sleep and sunscreen. “you woke me early.”
“ i didn’t wake you, you woke all by yourself,” seokjin said. yoongi just hummed and got even closer, half of his small body sprawled on top of seokjin’s, buried to the neck in cozy blankets.
“you smell like beach,” yoongi said, words half muffled against seokjin’s skin.
“at least i don’t smell like fish,” seokjin commented. yoongi snorted, finally opening his eyes and looking up at seokjin.
“you’re dumb,” yoongi said, voice rough and eyes drowsy. seokjin cupped his left cheek with a hand, his thumb caressing yoongi’s cheekbone.
“i love you,” he said.
yoongi smiled.
❇❇❇
“are we there yet?” yoongi asked.
the road was long, passing right alongside the beach. it wasn’t too early, but they were the only ones driving, seokjin’s pickup truck sticking out like a gray smudge on a canvas full of baby blues and soft yellows. windows down, 140 km/h, salty droplets splashing against yoongi’s face whenever they got too close to the cliff.
“one more hour,” seokjin said, eyes fixed on the road, one hand holding yoongi’s over the console. “are you hungry now?”
yoongi hummed.
“i want pancakes,” yoongi said, looking at seokjin with a small pout.
“you’ll have to wait.”
yoongi sighed, the sound loud and exaggerated in the almost quietness that surrounded them. the crash of the ocean, the occasional screeching of a seagull, the sound of the tires against pavement.
yoongi let go of seokjin’s hand, and unbuckled his belt.
“what are you doing?” seokjin asked, eyes still on the road. eyes always on the road.
yoongi didn’t answer. he took off his shoes, stuck half of his body out of the window, hands grabbing the roof. with a swift movement, yoongi sat on the window frame, feet resting on his seat and arms stretched over the heated top of the car.
“that’s dangerous,” seokjin said, yelled so yoongi could hear. there wasn’t any reproach on his voice.
yoongi pretended he hadn’t heard him. seokjin let him be.
❇❇❇
sometimes, yoongi spaced out and did things without noticing.
it was scary, at first, not being able to remember why was he at the grocery shop, or how had he ended up at the library at two am. but seokjin had helped, seokjin always helped, and it wasn’t perfect, but it was less scary.
when they arrived at the only ihop in the small town seokjin grew in, yoongi got out of the car without closing the door. his dark hair was tousled and messy for sitting on the window frame for so long, light clothes wrinkled and face blushed by the sun.
he crossed the street without looking. a car almost ran him over.
seokjin took his hand, heart beating fast, and walked to a table without letting go.
sometimes yoongi could be like that for a long time, alien movements and odd behaviour. no apparent purpose.
other days, the better ones, it was just a small episode. just a matter of minutes.
that day was a good one.
the food was in front of them; a tall stack of steamy, golden pancakes, and a jar of syrup.
yoongi looked around, a frown between his now clear eyes.
“when did we get here?” he asked.
“not too long ago,” seokjin answered.
“did i do something stupid?”
routine question. he sounded sad, and tired.
seokjin smiled, shook his head, grabbed yoongi’s hand on top of the table.
“eat.”
❇❇❇
it was 12:30 on the third day of their road trip, when they finally arrived at seokjin’s family beach house.
big, white, open, full of windows. yellow and blue striped curtains, off-white carpet, wood tables and seats.
the back of the house faced the mountain. its backyard was a small forest, the warm midday light filtering through the tall, skinny trees.
yoongi stared at it. seokjin stared at yoongi.
“you like it?” he asked.
yoongi turned around, and looked at him. “komorebi,” he said.
while yoongi unpacked their suitcases, seokjin took the notebook he used to document every trip yoongi and he did. it was covered in worn out leather, the pages full of polaroids, maps, quick scribbles.
he had a list of words yoongi used to express his feelings. words seokjin didn’t know.
he wrote komorebi , and put the small notebook back in his backpack.
“wanna go see the beach?” yoongi asked. he was dressed in swim trunks and a white shirt.
“those trunks are awful,” seokjin said, undressing right in the middle of the living room. he had had his own beach clothes underneath his long sleeved shirt since that morning.
“like yours are any better,” yoongi scoffed.
“i look good in anything,” seokjin said, grabbing a pair of towels and the house keys.
“you like me in anything,” yoongi retorted.
“i like you in nothing .”
“ gross. ”
❇❇❇
the times seokjin had woken up alone in the last three years weren’t many.
it usually implied that yoongi hadn’t gone to bed at all, or that they were fighting. that time, yoongi had gone to bed with him, and they were fine.
yoongi’s side of the bed was cold. the rest of the room was sunny and cozy.
seokjin looked at the window and was transfixed, staring at the warm light filtering through the thin curtains, the small particles of dust dancing around.
the door creaked when yoongi walked in, swimming in one of seokjin’s shirts and with his hair dripping wet.
seokjin looked at him.
“i went to see the sunrise,” yoongi said. he opened the curtains, and the early morning light against the crystal windows painted the wall like a rainbow.
“were you...”
yoongi shook his head. “i was myself,” he assured seokjin. “i just felt like...”
he didn’t finish the sentence. seokjin understood.
yoongi stood there, looking like a work of art covered in sunlight, pale fingers clutching the hem of the shirt.
it was seokjin’s favorite.
seokjin looked at him with the same fascination he looked at the particles of dust dancing in the air. small things, full of strange beauty. something wonderful amongst the mundane.
there were a lot of things that made yoongi nervous, but being watched wasn’t one of them.
seokjin knew it, so seokjin stared.
the silence was deafening, thick in the air as they looked at each other, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable.
slowly, yoongi got undressed. his eyes never left seokjin’s, and seokjin kept staring at yoongi’s half-illuminated face, even when he dropped the shirt and stood there, soft, and thin, and naked.
“c’mere,” seokjin said.
sometimes, they were harsh. hair pulling, loud groans, teeth breaking skin, mouths trying to touch everything at the same time, hands around throats.
other times, they did things like this: yoongi on seokjin’s lap, kissing him lazy, hands against his neck and body moving idly. seokjin holding yoongi by the waist, pulling him closer, or cupping his face and murmuring i love you s against his lips.
yoongi’s soft moans, his body aching for more. seokjin’s fingers pulling him apart, moving swiftly and assertively.
yoongi, naked and vulnerable, against seokjin, fully dressed and steady.
those were the times yoongi was in need of comfort, and seokjin knew it without asking. those were the times seokjin painted yoongi’s skin with constellations of bruises and kisses. those were the times seokjin held yoongi close, and let him cry against his shoulder.
❇❇❇
taehyung was seokjin’s baby cousin. he lived a few houses down the beach, and was one of those kids that always smelled like salt and had an everlasting tan.
he was excitable and left sand all over the place, but yoongi liked him.
“hyung, why are you leaving so soon?” taehyung complained.
“it’s a road trip. we have a long way ahead of us,” seokjin said.
they were laying on the sand, yoongi’s head on seokjin’s stomach. the beach was almost empty, the sun on it’s higher point, a fresh breeze blowing softly. it was perfect.
they were leaving the next day.
yoongi liked there, but seokjin and he were both restless souls. they craved movement, change.
being motionless made them anxious, fidgety, morose. stillness made them fight, like cornered animals.
“we’re eloping,” yoongi said.
taehyung gasped, seokjin laughed.
“at least come to the bonfire tonight,” taehyung said, “you’ve missed it everyday.”
“it wasn’t an accident,” yoongi said.
“ hyung, ” taehyung whined.
seokjin put a hand on his shoulder, told him they would go. taehyung smiled, big and boxy, and yoongi didn’t feel like complaining.
he liked s’mores. he could go to a bonfire.
❇❇❇
there were no s’mores on that bonfire. but there was alcohol.
“i really wanted some s’mores,” yoongi said, grabbing a beer.
seokjin laughed and sat next to him. the beach was fuller than that morning, young people dancing and swimming and drinking.
“is this what being a college student on a beach town feels like?” seokjin asked.
“looks tiring,” yoongi said.
“everything looks tiring to you.”
there’s no bite on seokjin’s words, but they made yoongi frown. he took a sip of his beer, and didn’t say another word for half an hour.
any other normal person would've forgotten about something so minor, but yoongi wasn’t normal like that . he couldn’t stop thinking, not even for a second.
“if you think i’m boring then why did you even agree to come to this trip?” he asked, bitter.
seokjin looked confused.
“i never said you were boring.”
“i mean, since i’m always tired and everything exhaust me, you might as well be traveling with an old man.”
“yoongi, that is not what i meant.”
“then what did you mean?”
“it was a joke, okay? i was teasing you. i wasn’t complaining, and i wasn’t making fun of you.”
there was this thought, at the back of yoongi’s mind, that bothered him frequently: the knowledge that seokjin deserved someone better, someone who wasn’t so insecure, someone who could handle a joke, someone competent.
then, there was seokjin’s voice, the real one, outside of yoongi’s head, that reminded him every day that he was loved, that needing help was okay. telling him that he wasn’t broken.
“i’m gonna take a walk,” yoongi said.
❇❇❇
yoongi liked the beach. he liked the warm sand under his feet, the sound of the ocean, the way the sun (or the moon) reflected on the deep, calm waters.
water, he didn’t like it so much.
yoongi didn’t swim, never had. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but that he didn’t know how.
yoongi didn’t swim, but sometimes yoongi spaced out and did things without noticing.
things like walking off the harbor, right into the tepid, dark sea without realizing it.
when he was like this, he couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet. it felt like looking at the world through a very strange filter, that made everything look misshapen and unreal.
that didn’t mean he couldn’t see the way everything went dark, feel the way everything went suddenly quiet, the way his body sank. if anything, it made it worst.
yoongi could see the bubbles of air floating around him very detailed, but was also overwhelmed by the immensity of the ocean. he could see every little detail, and the whole picture, at the same time.
he could see his body -- was that body his? -- moving once his self-preservation instinct kicked in, but he just kept sinking lower and lower and lower .
it was scary, way scarier that being 100% conscious, because he somehow knew what was going on. he could see himself, but he wasn’t himself.
he could perceive his surroundings, but he felt like he was watching some kind of trippy movie, full of dark colors and bubbles.
it was scary, knowing something wasn’t quite right but not being able to fully understand it.
things got steadily darker and darker, until all there was was black. yoongi felt like leaving his body, and it was strange because he wasn’t even in it.
he was tired. tired of not understanding, tired of not knowing himself, tired of just floating around.
just tired.
❇❇❇
he couldn't remember what had happened. one moment everything was weird and dark, and the next thing he could remember was the burning pain inside his lungs.
he threw up a lot of water, apparently. taehyung said it was about three liters, but yoongi didn’t believe him.
seokjin, he wasn’t actually there until yoongi was already breathing, cold and shaking all over.
it was a girl, who got yoongi out of the water. foreign and a surfer, apparently, with blond hair and strong arms. yoongi was clutching at her for dear life, when seokjin got there. he didn’t know what to do, so she helped him.
“hold him. take him to somewhere warm while waiting for the paramedics. don’t let him get cold,” she said.
yoongi was already cold. blue lips, pale, shaking, crying.
it was a good sign of breathing, like a baby when the doctors got him out of the womb. it didn't mean seokjin wasn’t freaking out.
“hey, everything is okay. you’re fine, don’t worry,” he said, voice shaky and eyes wet. he held yoongi closer to his chest.
the whole party stopped to see what was going on, but nobody was dead so it wasn’t very interesting.
seokjin took yoongi to the house. taehyung waited for the paramedics. yoongi cried until he fell asleep.
now, they were back on the road.
“i don’t want to die,” yoongi said. it was the first time he’d spoken since the night before.
“i know,” seokjin said. the landscape slowly changed from its pastel palette to a darker one, full of bright greens and warm browns.
yoongi liked the mountain better than the beach.
seokjin, he was a snow kind of guy.
it was getting dark. they would have to sleep on the trunk again.
“i don’t think you were unconsciously trying to kill yourself,” seokjin said. they were already lying down, looking at the moonless sky. it was a new moon night.
yoongi hummed.
“sometimes, i think i just don’t realize how much i really hate myself.”
❇❇❇
they found a couple of hitchhikers on their second day. it was early, so early that yoongi was still half asleep on the passenger seat.
he was the one who noticed them. “hey, look at that,” he said, pointing out at the two figures that were standing on the roadside.
“this is a terrible place for hitchhiking… almost nobody takes this route,” seokjin commented.
he was right. they were the only ones on the road at the moment.
it was suspicious, and they should’ve passed them, but when they got a little bit closer, yoongi noticed something.
“they’re carrying instruments,” yoongi said.
seokjin slowed down.
yoongi rolled down the window.
“are you serial killers?” he asked.
the pair looked confused for a second. then, the short one, with light blond hair, laughed.
“no, we’re musicians,” he said. yoongi liked his voice.
“this doesn’t seem like a good place for hitchhiking,” seokjin said.
“we’re not in a hurry,” said the tall one, with coppery blond hair.
“but we could use a ride,” added the other.
they were called jimin and jungkook, and wanted to get to the nearest town to take a bus that would turn around the mountain and go back to the beach.
music was the love of their life, or so they said. jimin played his ukelele and sang, and jungkook accompanied him.
they voices matched, somehow, and yoongi didn’t need to ask to know they were lovers.
they seemed incredible young, but exhaled a passion so tangible that yoongi didn’t feel like asking how old they were, or where were they headed. they spoke about music, and yoongi fell easily in the conversation.
seokjin watched them. the sight of yoongi turned around, knees on his seat like a little kid, made his heart flutter.
❇❇❇
“we ran away to get married,” jungkook said.
they’d drove for hours before reaching the small town at the foot of the mountain. too tired to look for a hotel, they stopped at some kind of tavern to relax a little.
they would sleep on the truck that night, yoongi supposed. he didn’t know what jimin and jungkook would no now.
“so you guys really eloped,” seokjin said, smiling slightly.
“we ran away because our hometown sucks,” jimin explained, “but getting married would be a plus.”
yoongi didn’t believe in the church, or god, or marriage. but he believed in being in love, and he believed in wanting to spend the rest of your life with the one you loved.
seokjin talked, while yoongi drank and looked. he had talked enough while they were on the road, and now he felt like he didn’t have much more to say.
it was three am when jungkook and jimin decided to leave. the would look for the bus, they said. seokjin gave them his number and hugged them. they promised to call when they reached the beach.
yoongi was drunk.
once the boys were gone, yoongi stood outside, looking at the sky. seokjin hold him, big arms wrapped around yoongi’s small frame.
yoongi closed his eyes and sighed, the alcoholic haze making him swing slightly. he felt like floating, but in a good way.
“right now, i’m happy,” he said.
“i’m happy, too.”
❇❇❇
there was an asshole in the tavern. he was drunk and ugly, and called seokjin a terrible thing that made yoongi's blood boil while they played pool.
yoongi knew seokjin didn’t need to be protected. he could take care of himself.
but yoongi also knew that seokjin was a pacifist, always against violence and choosing to fix things with words.
drunk assholes didn’t care about words.
seokjin tried to ignore him, the asshole insisted. he said something really nasty, and seokjin turned around to leave.
the asshole pushed seokjin, and yoongi saw red.
“hey, dickhead, keep your fuckin’ hands off of my boyfriend or i’ll break your motherfuckin’ fingers!” he snapped, walking towards the pool table.
seokjin said his name, his voice low. a warning.
“i ain’t afraid of a pair of pansies,” the asshole slurred.
he was too drunk, way drunker than yoongi.
there wasn’t even a proper fight. the asshole rushed towards yoongi, too drunk to even walk straight. yoongi punched him in the nose.
he probably broke it.
the thing about assholes was that they never came alone. this one had other two friends, and they were notably sober.
yoongi didn’t care. he was willing to fight the whole bar if he had to.
but then there was people stepping in. someone grabbed one of the sober assholes. the bartender told them they would have to leave if they didn't calm down.
seokjin dragged yoongi out.
“i was fighting for your honor,” yoongi said.
seokjin rolled his eyes, a small smile lighting his face.
“i guess we shouldn't sleep here… just to be safe,” he commented.
yoongi nodded. they didn't need a flat tire.
“you guys need a place to stay?” a voice called.
it was the one who had grabbed the sober asshole before. he walked towards them, a cigarette hanging between his full lips and somebody else walking besides him.
“we're okay,” yoongi said, narrowing his eyes.
the stranger laughed. he was tall and had dimples on his cheeks. “i’m namjoon,” he said.
“i’m hoseok,” said the other one. hoseok had a heart shaped smile.
“we saw the fight. i like you,” namjoon said, smiling at yoongi.
“you have a good spirit. a troubled kind of force,” hoseok explained.
yoongi didn't know if he was more confused or intrigued.
“where do you guys think we could stay?” seokjin asked. he had made the decision for yoongi.
intrigued.
❇❇❇
hoseok and namjoon lived on a pimped trailer. at the moment, they were parked on some kind of outdoor parking lot.
“are you hippies?” yoongi asked, “or hipsters, maybe?”
“yoongi, that's rude,” seokjin scolded him.
hoseok laughed.
“we're runaways,” namjoon said.
“that seems to be the latest fashion,” yoongi said.
nobody asked him what he meant by that.
seokjin and namjoon got along pretty well. namjoon talked about the stars while he helped to set up a makeshift tent for seokjin and yoongi, and seokjin listened, that amiable smile on his face.
yoongi was left alone with hoseok.
hoseok had an extremely perky nose and perfect teeth. he never stopped talking.
yoongi wasn't listening.
“why do you look like you want to kiss me?” hoseok asked. teased.
“this is my ‘i want to punch you’ face,” yoongi said. it was a fact.
“well, your boyfriend must spend an awful amount of time being confused.”
yoongi didn't deny it.
“what are you running away from?” he asked.
“we don't know it yet,” hoseok admitted. he looked serious for the first time. “what about you? where are you going?”
“forward.”
“you are annoyingly mysterious.”
yoongi shrugged. he didn't know where they were going.
❇❇❇
yoongi laid wide awake, his head on seokjin’s chest and his eyes glued to the tent’s ceiling.
“what's wrong?” seokjin asked. yoongi had thought he was already sleeping.
“do you like namjoon?” he asked.
“he’s nice. and smart,” seokjin said. he threaded his fingers through yoongi’s hair.
“so you do like him.”
“i do. i like him the same way i like hoseok. they're good people.”
yoongi didn't mean it like that . seokjin knew it.
“what's going on inside that pretty little head, yoongi? talk to me,” seokjin said, hugging yoongi closer to him.
i wish i knew , yoongi thought.
“i think this has been my hardest year,” yoongi said.
seokjin hummed.
“and what do you wanna do?”
yoongi didn't know what to asks for. he'd already made seokjin take a road trip just so he wouldn't end up throwing himself out their apartment window. he couldn't be more selfish than that.
“i want you to be happy,” he said. “and i want to be happy with you. always.”
“then we're already halfway there,” seokjin said. “i love you, yoongi. if you need to run away so you can find yourself, then i’ll go with you.”
the tips of seokjin’s index and middle finger were pressed lightly against yoongi's lips. yoongi closed his eyes and kissed them.
their time was running out. the road trip couldn't last forever, and real life was right around the corner. there were jobs and classes and an apartment waiting for them, and yoongi knew he couldn't drag seokjin along forever.
he would leave, at some point, yoongi was sure. he’d leave because yoongi wasn't himself more often than not, and because yoongi couldn't say i love you without feeling scared. he'd leave because yoongi was complicated and didn't even knew himself. he’d leave because yoongi was a lost cause, a dead end. he'd leave because they were other people, better people, and seokjin deserved that.
but until then, yoongi would take what he could get. yoongi would take the mornings of warm sun and soft singing, the laughs between bites of fast food, the bonfires, the strangers, the sunrises, the bar fights, the wind against his face. he would take the salty kisses, the feeling of skin against skin, the burning touches, seokjin’s fingers inside his mouth.
“when you leave,” yoongi whispered, “i want to know where you are, even when you don't want me anymore. i’ll miss you forever, y’know? but i’ll understand. i wouldn’t want to stay with the worst version of myself, either. but i’m so selfish, jinnie... i just don't want this feeling to disappear.”
seokjin was already sleeping.