It is late evening as Jungkook and Jimin are walking through the streets of Tokyo. The two are passing a jewelry store, one particular item, or rather a pair of it, caught the attention of Jimin and he stops his steps, examining the round objects behind the clear glass with his eyes.

Jungkook notices how Jimin isn‘t at his side anymore just a few seconds later. He turns around and sees him staring through the glass of a jewelry store, the items getting much attention of bypassers since they are brightly lit by many lights.

Stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his parka, he walks over to his traveling partner to be able to understand what has gotten the pretty eyes of Jimin captured like that. Jungkook stands beside him and searches with his own eyes for the piece of jewelry.

He recognizes them to be rings.

„Do you like those rings?“ Jimin hears Jungkook question, neither Jungkook‘s nor his own eyes have left the beautiful rings for one second since they have been seen by the two of them. „Very much, they are beautiful.“ Jimin replies, a smile appearing as the thought of both of them wearing them strikes his mind.

„Well, let‘s go.“ Jungkook suddenly hears Jimin say, as he looks over to his side, he is already leaving the shop window behind which glass the rings lay.

„Wait… you don‘t want them?“ Jungkook asks and stops the older‘s walking away with a grip on his shoulder.

Jimin turns around, smiling „I do, but the price is quite up there and since you rarely wear any rings it would just be a waste of money.“

He really is fond of the shining jewelry, but he does not want to buy something that won‘t be worn by the person that‘s most important to him.

Jungkook knows that his boyfriend really wants these rings, of course he knows, he knows so much about Jimin that it sometimes surprises himself. The taller boy avoids eye contact out of embarrassment of the words that are about to leave his mouth „Let‘s buy them. I will wear it as much as possible.“

The face of Jimin lightens up, obviously happy about the promise. He pulls Jungkook into the store and asks for the rings of a retail saleswoman.

After trying them on and finding a fitting size, they purchase the rings, leaving with an expensive looking bag which contains the black jewel cases that protect the silvery-copper colored rings.

Pulling his older boyfriend into an alleyway, Jungkook guides him until they reach a small park. It is lit by dimmed street lights and has no one besides the couple around.

Jimin chuckles at the sudden pulling of Jungkook „Why did you bring us here?“

With no words, he reaches inside the bag they just got from the jewelry store and takes out the black case which contains the treasure of a ring. „Give me your hand. The right one.“ Jungkook demands, carefully taking the delicate hand of Jimin into his, having his beneath Jimin‘s smaller one.

Almost not being able to hold back a light scream, he observes Jungkook, how he flips open the black case, taking the ring out with his fingers and slowly putting it on Jimin‘s right ring finger. His other hand shoots over his mouth in order to not break out into tears as Jungkook presses a short kiss on the ring and the finger which it is around.

„A beautiful accessory for a beautiful person.“ Jungkook comments, smiling at the shiny metal that decorates Jimin‘s hand.

„Jungkook…“ Jimin sobs, this young boy in front of him turns into a real, grown up man whenever they are alone. Jimin turns red, he always compliments him in so many ways that flutter Jimin way too much.

Jimin reaches inside the bag as well, taking the second small box out of it, opening it and almost being overwhelmed by the feeling as he sees the beautiful ring that seems to be just meant for Jungkook.

And at that, he realizes something, his head shoots up, expression shocked. „Wait- is this a proposal?“

Jungkook is hit with realisation over this situation, exchanging shocked looks with Jimin. „I- I-...“ He can‘t think of any words, he only stutters but the sounds that are leaving his mouth don‘t make any sense.

Jimin takes Jungkook‘s into his own hands, feeling the ring press against each other‘s skin. „Jeon Jungkook, I need an honest answer from you right now. Do you plan to marry me?“

The jaw of Jungkook drops seemingly down on the floor, silencing his nonsense. He didn‘t think that far yet. Hell, sometimes he doesn‘t even realize that the two of them are in a relationship!

„Uhm… Jimin-ah, I..“ He feels his hands being squeezed tighter.

„Tell me.“ Jimin‘s begging words are.

Jimin is putting way too much of pressure on Jungkook, and too sudden most importantly.

Yes they are in their second year of their relationship, they trust each other blind and know almost every little detail of the other.

But is Jungkook ready for such big of a promise?

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he listens to his thoughts and what his heart tells him. He loves Jimin, he loves him so dearly like he never did anyone before.

He makes the stars shine so much brighter at night, when they are looking out the window, wrapped in a yellow blanket.

He makes him smile more than anyone else ever did, loving the wrinkles he will most likely have at young age because of that already now, because Jimin caused them.

He makes him anticipate every morning when they head to sleep, because it will be Jimin he will wake up next to.

Always.

After a few seconds, his eyes open up again and he looks into the dark eyes of the boy in front of him, into his love‘s eyes. „Yes.“

Jimin breaks into another sob, sinking down on the ground in the pose he always takes in when he is embarrassed about something, his hands being tightly hold by Jungkook, not letting go.

He feels bad for making Jimin cry like that, he is so sentimental when it comes to the two of them. They need each other, their bond has gotten so strong that it is impossible to even think about losing Jimin one day.

„Please get up, seeing you like this hurts me.“ he begs of the older, pulling him up by his hands he grips tighter by the second.

„I am sorry I… I am just so happy.“ Jimin confesses, explaining the tears in his eyes as tears of happiness. Standing up again, even though his legs are still shaking, he slowly slides the round object of jewelry on the right ring finger of Jungkook, feeling a tear running down his cheek.

Jimin copies the gesture of his younger boyfriend from before, maybe he should address him as fiancé from now on, and places his lips on the metal, touching the skin where it isn‘t covering as well.

They meet eyes when Jimin removes his lips and lifts his head back up, Jungkook smiling brighter than ever.

Jimin feels his body being dragged into Jungkook‘s arms, the safest place on earth. Putting his head on the strong chest of him, he hides behind the Parka which Jungkook is wearing, tears still flowing strongly.

They went back to the hotel they are staying in after Jimin calmed down again. Jungkook got so worried about his tears not stopping, that he was considering to go to a hospital, which only made Jimin laugh.

Back in their room, Jimin doesn‘t even let his, now fiancé, take off his shoes, he searches the warmth he always finds in his arms as soon as the door closes.

His arms are squeezing tightly around the waist of the younger, not wanting to let go that quickly.

„Jimin-ah, you‘re clingy.“ Jungkook responds to the hug and tries to slip off his shoes anyway with the help of his feet, managing at least one of the pair.

„How can I not be clingy in such a moment?“ Jimin asks, reminding both of them what just happened not even an hour ago.

They got engaged.

Both their rings seem to burn, making them aware of them even more.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook gets off his second shoe as well and wants to push the person that reminds him of a koala off him, this is all just too much at the moment.

Jimin is too cute.

He can‘t handle it.

Jimin pins him against the door, not letting him escape just yet.

There is no need to stand on his tiptoes right now, unlike Jungkook, Jimin is still wearing his shoes and is a bit taller than usually, able to reach the long yearned lips of the younger.

Like always, Jungkook gives in to the silent request of Jimin‘s lips to please just shut up. Lifting both his hands to place them beneath each side of Jimin‘s jaw, he moves them back bit by bit until the soft hair of Jimin can be felt.

He pulls him closer.

Tonight he won‘t be able to get enough of him.

Every single fiber in his body carries Jungkook‘s name at the moment, he forgets all of his surroundings and even that he hasn‘t taken off his shoes.

He gets pushed into the bedroom that has a double bed inside, falling onto the soft mattress as his calves reach the bed and he can‘t take a step further back.

Jungkook craves for Jimin‘s lips he had to let go off when they both fell on the mattress, he surrounds them with his own right the next second, not letting Jimin say the sentence he was about to start.

Tapping and then having to hit Jungkook‘s shoulder, he finally gets released of the hungry mouth of the boy above him, huffing and feeling his lips swell up.

„Stop.. wait.. please..“ Jimin begs and tries to catch his breath, closing his eyes to get to his goal faster.

As he feels like a normal breathing human again, his eyelids open again and it’s his heart that is giving him trouble now. Jungkook is looking down at him with what seem to be heart eyes, the color of them being so lovely at the moment and having the eyes crease a bit as he smiles make him question if Jungkook really is an ordinary human or a mixture of the cutest bunny alive and a greek god.

The boy that has been hovering about the smaller body of Jimin drops to the side, not leaving the face of the beautiful boy he can now call his fiancé. He smiles even brighter as the word strikes his mind.

„You are so beautiful.“

Jimin turns a shade of pink, hiding behind his small hands before turning away to avoid Jungkook's expression.

Jungkook laughs as the reaction of the boy that is two years older than himself. He scoots closer to Jimin until the front of his body touches the back of him, placing a kiss on the small space on his cheek that Jimin‘s small hands can‘t cover.

„Love, don‘t hide from the truth.“

Eyes catching the ring on the ringfinger of Jimin, he takes the hand it is on away from his face and kisses the knuckles of it.

„I promise you, Jimin-ah. One day I will marry you.“

"Hyung! Have you seen my wallet?" Namjoon came asking from his bedroom.

"I think it's on the counter over there," Yoongi responded, motioning his hand in the air then bringing it down to his hair and patting it. The movie playing in front of him couldn't interest him less. He started watching Namjoon that was sprinting around with the cuffs of his blue checkered pajama bottoms hitting the parquet floor of their dorm living room.

Namjoon had gotten more forgetful lately, constantly going around and asking Yoongi if he saw this or that. That usually happened when he was stressed and he guessed because it was of the upcoming album. Every album was a burden, of course, but since they had gotten so much international attention lately they had felt a bit more burdened than normal. He hoped Namjoon didn't lose his sanity in this journey.

"Found it," came the voice of the said man, waving the dark blue wallet in his hand. He went back to his room and came out there with empty hands. He sat next to Yoongi, running his hands down his thighs as if to calm himself.

Yoongi slowly grabbed his hand, entangling fingers as if to give some type of comfort. He shined his usual "I understand" smile, looking at his bandmate in the eye.

There was something rough touching his palm against his hand. He slowly pulled his hand and brought the hand closer to his face to see red, crescent shaped scars under the boy's fingers. Exactly four of them.

"What are these, Joonie?" he asked, slowly dragging his thumb across them. They must've hurt, he thought.

"Ah, I dug my nails into my hand in my sleep, apparently. They were there when I woke up. They'll pass though, nothing serious," Namjoon assured the older sweetly, his dimples showing under the low lit yellow lamp of the living room.

"Be careful, Joonie. We need these hands, you know?" Yoongi warned carefully, slowly letting the hand go and turning to the TV.

Okay, maybe those scars made Yoongi anxious more than they should but he couldn't help it. While yes, he had seen Namjoon stressed many times and worse off before debut, Namjoon never had such a bad habit before. So yes, maybe Yoongi was a bit paranoid and a bit too overprotective but he just didn't want Namjoon, his dear friend of seven years, to be hurt.

That night, an hour after Namjoon went to bed Yoongi slowly opened the door of his shared room with Taehyung to check up on him. Call him crazy but he wasn't going to let this go. He slowly made his way to Namjoon's bed, careful to not make too much noise even though both of the males slept like a log.

When he sat down next to the sleeping boy, he saw, from the small light let out into the room by the ajar door, that yes indeed Namjoon's hands were balled up and his hands were digging into the flesh of his palm. They were squeezed so hard that Namjoon's knuckles were turning white.

Yoongi panicked at first although this was what he was expecting when he stepped into this room. He grabbed the boy's right hand and tried to pry the fingers open by force. Not so surprisingly, they didn't budge. He let the hand fall with a huff.

What would my mom do, Yoongi asked himself in these types of situations, when he had to take care of someone. He had to be especially careful since a, this was Namjoon and b, this was Namjoon.

He then grabbed the fist again, this time slowly caressing where the fingers were squeezed in and patting the hand slowly. He was shocked to realize that his hand was a bit more relaxed now, even though it was still in the same position as before. Just, not with so much power.

He continued his motions some time though the effect didn't continue. His nails were still tightly gripping the flesh, probably still scarring his hand. So Yoongi did what he could do; he brought the balled up fist and kissed Namjoon's fingers slowly, one by one.

They were chaste kisses, meant to soften his friend's hand. He slowly kissed his knuckles as well and it was kind of a miracle that this worked out because Yoongi had totally pulled the whole thing out of his *** (and it was a bit instinctual as well, maybe mixed up with his /own/ need of human touch but he wouldn't talk about that, especially not now).

At least his plan had worked, Namjoon's hands relaxed and his nails not in any connection to his palm. Yoongi noticed that the scars were bleeding and he started tapping at it with his t-shirt. Probably not the best idea but he didn't have any clean cloth next to him right now and this was the best he could do.

He did the same thing to the other hand as well, leaving brief kisses and caressing his knuckles. When his fingers budged he saw that this hand was bleeding too so he did the same thing.

When he got out of the room with a bloody t-shirt and some confusing emotions he hoped that Namjoon didn't clench his hands again during his sleep. Unfortunately he had to sleep too, so he couldn't stay up all night next to Namjoon.

The next morning, Namjoon came to him while examining his palm, noticing that the scars were a bit more softer this time.

"Told you it would stop, these will pass in no time," Namjoon reassured, his lips in a soft, concentrated pout. Yoongi may have found it adorable.

"That's good, Joon-ah. Wouldn't want you picking up any bad habits," said the elder, his voice soft and his mind in relief that Namjoon hadn't noticed.

The same thing happened the other night. And a couple more nights after that. And it had been a week. A week of Yoongi sneaking into Namjoon's bedroom and kissing his hands open and relaxing them. He probably should have told the younger by now, let him know he had such a habit and figure out a solution together. But he loved giving affection like this. Especially to Namjoon.

He was actually an affectionate person, though not when you meet him first. He had known Namjoon for seven years now, so it was normal he thought. His little nightly routine didn't hurt anyone, in fact, he helped Namjoon. All he did was help, without causing anyone trouble (and also not having to explain to anyone why he knew of Namjoon's habit when the scars had passed, only leaving a brief trail from the time Yoongi waited for Namjoon to sleep).

This continued on for two weeks, too long in Yoongi's opinion. Would this habit of Namjoon's pass after the album release? On the beginning of the third week, when he did the same thing and maybe lingered there a bit more than he was supposed to, staring at the younger's face; he noticed that Namjoon's cheeks were more tight than usual. He didn't want to question why he noticed that, to keep his sanity.

He slowly cradled the taller's cheek as he very carefully prodded around with his fingers, wary that he would wake him up. He was pretty sure that Namjoon was biting the inside of his cheeks, very hardly, as his lips were pursed and his teeth were nearly touching each other.

With his cheeks flaming up, he leaned down and kissed the man's cheeks, patting them and nosing at them; offering comfort. Even though the younger's face was more relaxed now, it was still kind of uptight which didn't relax Yoongi at all.

There was obviously one way to fix this and he really didn't know if he was emotionally ready for this.

After a big, calming breath he leant down and left the softest kiss on Namjoon's lips, his hands about to fall off because of how much they were trembling. What he first noticed was how soft Namjoon's lips were even though they were so chapped and the second thing was that he wanted to do this more.

Not a very good start.

Namjoon was even more relaxed now but he was still biting, Yoongi could sense it so he leant down and kissed the younger, a bit more tougher this time to get him to let go of his cheeks.

Then Namjoon's lips pried open and Yoongi scrambled up in shock. When he looked up, he saw Namjoon with wide eyes, trying to understand what was happening.

"Hyung?" he asked softly, breathing a bit harshly from the shock of it all.

"I-I-uhh," Yoongi scrambled for an answer, his hands shaking and his eyes looking everywhere but Namjoon in a frenzy. Namjoon slowly moved inside the bed, making place for one more person on it. He lied down again patting the space next to him.

"Sleep with me, hyung," Namjoon lazily muttered, clearly very sleepy. That was not what Yoongi was expecting.

The shorter slowly laid down above the sheets, his hands still trembling. They were face to face with Namjoon now and he was noticing all the little things on his face. The small acne scar on his forehead, the fallen lash under his eye; the burr on the inner corner of his eye, the blackhead on his cheek. He was breathtaking.

Namjoon lifted the sheets under him and put it over them, snuggling closer to his hyung and putting his head near the shorter's chest. His hands were still balled so Yoongi took them in his hand and put his thumb between his fingers and palm. Namjoon tangled his legs over the other's and put his head on his collarbone. Yoongi felt like his heart was going to explode.

As if that wasn't enough Namjoon turned his head and pressed a kiss on his chest and moved so that he was closer to the shorter. Yoongi moved their hands so that his thumb was still there but he held the other's wrists with his other fingers. It was domestic, really. All Yoongi could see in his dreams were now happening in real life. He was cuddling to sleep with Kim Namjoon.

Next morning, after lazily yawning and rubbing his eyes, he remembered last night's events as if he was hung-over. Namjoon had caught him stealing a kiss in the middle of the night, as he was caressing his cheeks.

Jungkook likes to think that he isn't as impulsive and reckless as everyone says he is, but the truth of the matter is that he is. It’s what finds him at Incheon International Airport at *** crack o’clock with a duffel bag containing ten days of clothes, buying a ticket for the first flight out of Seoul he can afford. As he walks to the gate, he searches for an AirBnb in London, unsure, really, of whether or not that will be a good idea. He’s never been to London, never even had a slightest bit of interest in the city and thus has no idea what it’s like. He’d seen snapshots when he went to see Kingsman with—Jungkook shoos the thought away quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket in hopes that it’ll help clear his mind too. He brings up his boarding pass to hand off to the flight attendant at the terminal, smiling gratefully because Christ, he’s cutting it close.

It’s been a month since the breakup, and Jungkook wants to say he was fine for a while and just needed some time away, but Jungkook was miserable. His bed became a magnet for self-hatred. He kept telling himself how lame it was that he was this distraught over some guy. But Namjoon wasn’t—isn’t—just some guy. Jungkook gave him almost four years of his life. He gave him his heart. It just fucking hurt.

The last straw was a video, posted on Hoseok’s Snapchat story just the other night. They have this thing where their friend group barhops once a month, and Jungkook decided to opt out. Taehyung asked him why, which was kind of stupid, and he got an honest response: “I feel like shit, Tae, and I don’t want to be reminded of why.” He knew if he didn’t go, Namjoon would, but he was somehow still surprised when he saw the older in the background. Twice as surprised when he saw the way he was dancing with a random partner. He saw all the signs, could tell easily that Namjoon took the person home, and he felt sick to his stomach.

He keeps his duffel bag on him as he boards the plane and makes his way down the aisle in search of his seat.

“Twenty-six F, twenty-six F,” Jungkook mumbles, squinting at the too-little lettering above each row, underneath each overhead compartment. He brightens when he finds it, dims a little when he realizes it’s the window seat, and nearly jerks back in shock when the aisle seat holder raises their head.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” the flight attendant asks and Jungkook’s confused for a moment before he remembers oh yeah, I’m not wearing a binder today.

“Sir, actually,” Namjoon says from his seat, leaning into the aisle to get between him and the attendant.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” the flight attendant corrects quickly, flushing.

“Is there any other seat available on this flight?” Jungkook interjects hurriedly, trying to hide the rising panic in his voice.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the flight is completely booked. Our last ticket was sold just a few minutes ago.”

Yeah, to me, Jungkook thinks, and he curses every deity, god, goddess, and other higher power for allowing this specific reality come into being. “Are you sure? Can I… trade with someone?”

A look passes over her face before she schools it, but he still caught what she wants to say: Who in their right mind would want a window seat? What she says instead is, “Sorry, sir. I don’t think we have time.”

Dread settles down in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach as he sighs in resignation, nodding in acknowledgement and stepping out of the way for Namjoon to let him in. He does so quietly, doesn’t say a thing to Jungkook but the younger can feel his eyes on him. They both reach for the armrest at the same time, and Jungkook retracts his hand with a flinch that travels over his whole body.

“Sorry,” Namjoon says quietly, and Jungkook hates how quickly he makes a face and how long it takes to mask it. Namjoon notices. Of course he does. He notices and quickly shuts up, faces forward, and listens intently as a different flight attendant goes over the safety procedures. Jungkook opens the window and turns as far towards it as the seatbelt will allow him to face, slides his headphones over his head, and wishes he could be anywhere but there.

Namjoon has many talents, but perhaps his greatest one is running away from his problems. It’s a talent he’s managed to perfect over the years, though he hit road bumps in which he could actually process his emotions and maturely handle the problems he stumbled upon. Most recently, however, he’s managed to carry out the most flawless act of it.

Jungkook is an integral part of their friend group, and simply avoiding all of their friends wouldn’t cut it. They all knew where he lived—someone would end up at his apartment or one of his favorite places to relax and bombarding him with questions he couldn’t answer and demands he couldn’t meet and sincerity he couldn’t match. The best solution was to get out of Seoul, and Namjoon decided to go big or go home. Going to the other side of the globe would allow him to be far away from his problems and also see a new place he’d never been before. And the others would say it was irrational of him, but Namjoon was hurt beyond rationale.

He booked the flight almost immediately after the breakup, set to leave about a month from that day, packed and unpacked because he managed to talk himself out of it, then packed up again and repeated it all until the night before his flight. He woke up only an hour later and headed for the airport with whatever he managed to pack before he passed out and went through the motions of check-in and security, barely awake enough to process any of it.

He’s hyping himself up to not think about Jungkook as the passengers finish the overhead compartments and getting settled in their seats, because every day before that, Jungkook was all he could think about.. This is a vacation that will last for as long as it needs to, and he’s doing this to get his mind off of Jungkook. To clear his mind. To give himself the breather he deserves after everything that’s happened. He thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job of talking to himself, because he almost feels confident he will be able to keep his mind off of the only boy he’s ever truly loved. But right when he starts to believe in himself, two jean-clad legs appear in his peripheral. Namjoon glances up, and every single cell in his body turns to mush.

They stare at each other for a minute, and he can already see Jungkook going into flight mode. He sees the flight attendance approach, jumps in to make the correction, and then scoots by to let Jungkook to his seat, trying not to too-obviously inhale. When they reach for the armrest at the same time, Namjoon is filled to the brim with regret the moment the automatic apology leaves his lips.

He keeps an eye on the younger until he seems to zone out, music probably on full blast, eyes closed so he can go straight to sleep. Jungkook doesn’t look to be in any better condition than he is, which makes him feel a little bit better, but he still looks effortlessly gorgeous, tired as the bags under his eyes reveal he is. Namjoon wants to kiss him. Wants to hold him.

God, it’s only been a fucking month, you useless sack of frozen meatballs.

“Can you stop staring at me, dude?” Jungkook mutters. Namjoon winces.

“I’m not staring at you,” he replies with a snap. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m going to be completely heartbroken over you and pine over you.”

“I can feel your eyes on me, asshole. Don’t need to open mine to know how it feels when you’re watching me.”

Namjoon thanks his lucky stars Jungkook didn’t say anything about his wording. He didn’t actually intend to say it like that, but he can’t exactly take it back. So he eloquently says, “whatever” and returns to listening to the pilot, even though every inch of his body is screaming at him to pay attention to Jungkook.

He has to physically and emotionally prepare himself when he sees the flight attendant asking if passengers would like any refreshments a couple rows down, because he needs to wake up Jungkook. Or get his attention or whatever. And he knows Jungkook won’t get anything because on this airline, it’s not complementary, and he won’t want to pay more. But it gives him a chance to touch Jungkook and- Is that weird? Is that creepy? Does that overstep any boundaries created in the last twenty-four hours? It’s only been about four weeks, but it feel like it’s been forever. Namjoon’s missed Jungkook to the point that it’s almost absurd, but he feels like there’s a wall of bulletproof glass separating them.

He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and god, it’s so familiar. Jungkook’s eyes snap open and he glares at Namjoon, who tries to subtly gesture towards the flight attendant. The younger slides his headphones off. “What?”

“Hey, you’re not even listening to music. Did you just put those on so—”

“So that you would leave me alone? Yes, but it looks like it didn’t work anyway. What do you want?”

His chest aches. It’s so uncharacteristic of Jungkook to talk to him like this. He’s not used to it. Even their other arguments were a lot tamer. And he wants to say he doesn’t understand, but he does. What he said that night… he wouldn’t be surprised if Jungkook never forgave him, and his chest aches even more.

“I was just letting you know that the flight attendant’s coming to take your order,” Namjoon bites back.

“I’m not ordering anything. You should know that, since you think you know me so well.”

It’s a bullet wound to the chest, to have his own words thrown back at him. The regret and the shame and guilt all hit him at once, crash over him as Jungkook fixes a hard look on him. His otherwise stoic face must crack—he’s sure it does and that Jungkook sees. So he turns, doesn’t answer, and stares straight ahead, trying to get his emotions under control before he says or does something stupid, like admit how much he wishes they’d never argued that night.

Jungkook is hyper-aware of him. He can feel every time Namjoon shifts, every time the older looks at him, every time Namjoon sighs, and it’s tearing him apart. It takes every bit of self-control in his body to ignore him, but even then the urge to say something is nearly impossible to ignore. There’s a point where he almost does, almost asks why he’s taking a flight to London at *** crack o’clock, but when he sits up and opens his eyes, Namjoon is fast asleep, lips parted, chin to his chest as his body just barely keeps his head from falling completely. And because it’s been weeks since he’s since him, Jungkook let’s himself look.

It infuriates him how great Namjoon looks, how well he seems to be doing. He’s beautiful, and it seems effortless to Jungkook. His hair’s a little messy and he’s wearing a black t-shirt and sweats, but he doesn’t look like his heart was ripped out of his chest or like he was at all affected by a breakup with his boyfriend of four years. He looks… fine. Perfectly fine.

So lost in thought, Jungkook doesn’t realize Namjoon’s leaning until his head makes it onto Jungkook’s shoulder and the older lets out an obnoxiously loud snore that has several heads turning towards them. Jungkook tries to relax his muscles, tries not to sit so stiffly, but they haven’t been this close in so long. He debates with himself for a minute and then two, and then he takes a deep breath, takes in the smell of Namjoon’s shampoo—honeydew.

(“Why honeydew? That’s so… obscure,” Jungkook said.

Namjoon chuckled, nuzzling his face into the younger’s neck. “Good word. And I like the fruit, so I assumed I’d like the scent. Which I do.”

Jungkook hummed and buried his nose into his hair as much as he could manage. “Smells nice.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook hummed again. He was and still is always very sensitive to smell, very picky about the scents he kept around himself—the laundry detergent he used, his shampoo, scented candles he burned, fragrances he used for himself, the smell of his chapstick—and he was sure Namjoon knew this. “I’ll keep buying it then.”)

He wants him closer, wants Namjoon to wrap his arms around him like he used to. He wants to bury his face in his hair, lose himself in honeydew. But instead, he sits there stiffly, waiting for the older to wake up. But his lack of sleep eventually catches up with him, and he nods off before he can stop himself