Angle Of Refraction (Chapter 6: desaturation)

...desaturation: [in photography] to reduce the percentage of hue in a photograph, causing a fading effect...

The next morning is the coldest yet, and it’s almost tragic (or unfortunately comical, as Jungkook would have put it, to see Taehyung scowl and try to stuff his hands deeper into the limits of Jungkook's coat pocket) how they’d been expecting at least some semblance of spring.

Jungkook knows this from the rude breeze that steals beneath the covers when he reaches over, only to feel empty air in the space beside him.

There’s a sliver of light, tinted orange and the softest blue, scattered in freckles over the white sheets. Jungkook's eyes chase the rays back to the gap between the curtains, where Taehyung stands with his back to him, his hair soft and messy in the morning glow.

“Come back to bed,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice still hoarse and sleep-laden, but Taehyung hears him, letting the curtains fall over the open window as he turns around. “It’s freezing.”

“I wasn’t aware that I’m your personal space heater now,” Taehyung lifts a brow, but at Jungkook's disgruntled expression, he chuckles and pulls the windows shut before tucking himself back under the sheets, tangling their legs together. “Better?”

Jungkook nods, letting his eyes flutter shut again beneath the gentle caresses of Taehyung's fingers threading through his hair. “Better,” he echoes, and he feels Taehyung's lips against his temple while he drifts back to sleep.

(This would be one of Jungkook's favourite memories, a little later when he starts to miss waking up in the mornings to a clumsy bump of Taehyung's nose against his, a sprinkle of sunshine in Taehyung's sleepy smile.)

When he wakes the second time, Taehyung is straddling his hips, and Jungkook has to blink a couple of times before the edges of his vision stop blurring. His hands smooth up the other’s thighs, instinctive, and Taehyung hums, low and appreciative.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, equal parts confused and affectionate.

“You sleep like the dead,” is what Taehyung responds with, and Jungkook catches the twinkle in his eyes, feeding his now budding suspicion.

Jungkook rolls them over, smothering Taehyung between him and the mattress, takes pride in the way Taehyung stares up at him all dazed and— oh, Jungkook wonders if he looks at Taehyung that way too, sometimes. Wonders if Taehyung notices whenever he does.

“What did you do?” Jungkook kisses the words into Taehyung's skin, palms gliding up the back of Taehyung's shirt as tilts his head up to capture Jungkook's lips in a languid kiss. He tastes sweet, a little like desperation, a little (a lot, very much so) like a drug.

It’s expected when Taehyung doesn’t respond with a proper answer, just smiles and pulls away to press his index finger against Jungkook's lips. Jungkook tips his head to the side, inquisitive, and Taehyung reaches out, making a clumsy grab at his polaroid camera.

“Just gathering souvenirs,” Taehyung murmurs, and Jungkook's heart does a little lurch forward in his chest, as if wanting to flee from the confines of his ribcage. “Taking with me what I don’t want to forget.”

“Yeah?”

The sides of Taehyung's lips quirk up, faint, and he sits up, making Jungkook rise with him, manoeuvring themselves until Jungkook has his back pressed up against the headboard of the bed, and Taehyung settles perfectly in the seat of his lap.

Taehyung lifts the polaroid camera, positioning it in front of his face. “Smile for me,” he says.

“I can’t smile on demand, I’m not photogenic,” Jungkook's fingers curl into the hem of Taehyung's shirt, stubborn.

“Uhm,” Taehyung gives him a pointed look because that’s bullshit, you’re lying, but he lifts the polaroid camera again, anyway. “Think of something you like, something that makes you happy. Most people would smile, no?”

Jungkook hums, tracing lines over the taut of Taehyung's stomach, his tone teasing. “How about someone?”

“That works too,” Taehyung's already got his finger on the shutter, nearly blinds his subject with the flash (“It’s automatic, I can’t disable it.”).

Jungkook thinks about Taehyung.

When the polaroid finishes developing, Taehyung lifts it up to where the late morning light catches the film and beams. He says, “I like this one best.”

Kissing Taehyung will never be within Jungkook's realm of understanding. At least, that’s what he thinks, because with every subsequent one, Jungkook falls. He falls, he falls, for the way Taehyung's lips would always part under his own, the soft flutter of Taehyung's lashes against his cheeks when Jungkook would startle him by leaning in close too fast.

Still falling, Jungkook reckons, when Taehyung runs his hands over the creases of Jungkook's shirt as he’s rolling the hem higher to Jungkook's neck, kissing a slow bridge of bruises from Jungkook's navel all the way up to the spot beneath Jungkook's ear, making his breath catch.

“Taehyung,” Jungkook breathes out, a soft moan bubbling up from the seam of his lips, and Taehyung lifts his head, moves his kisses along the line of Jungkook's jaw.

“Hmm?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, just finds himself staring mutedly into oceans and remembering that he’s not even that good at treading rough waters, grasping at faint memories of himself spluttering in the waves off of Busan beaches.

Taehyung laughs, soft and warm, brushes the bangs away from Jungkook's eyes. Says, “come on then, sweetheart. Let’s go out?”

“Mm,” Jungkook lets himself get tugged out of bed, wraps his arms around Taehyung from the back and smiles against the soft hairs at the nape of Taehyung's neck as he grumbles for Jungkook to hurry up and get dressed, we’re wasting precious seconds.

It reminds Jungkook of the first time they’d met, back in Osaka, and he can almost see the train tracks beside the Shijonawate station, and the black words stark against the white background of a sign fixed above the coin laundry shop.

Given, Sapporo and Osaka are miles apart in terms of similarity, but there’s a sort of nostalgia that clings to everything they do. Little things like walking along the streets and past familiar chains of convenience stores with no destination in mind, to explosive, new gestures like Taehyung reaching out to tangle his fingers with Jungkook's, hands swinging in the bright, early afternoon light.

“It’s Nijo market,” Taehyung suddenly says, and Jungkook turns, quizzical, picks up on the way Taehyung's eyes seem to brighten.

He follows Taehyung's line of sight across the pedestrian crossing to the biggest crab he’s ever seen, sitting right above a shop, by its sign. “Jesus,” Jungkook's already trying to count the amount of money he’s predicting they’ll spend, and it doesn’t even come close to the figure he’s churned out.

Not even close, and that’s how they find themselves seated in a small shop, sharing a pathetic but pricey meal of one crab leg and a slab of pan-grilled salmon.

“Well,” is what Jungkook says, kind of bitter but in awe at the same time (especially with their receipt sitting innocently and heavily under the plates).

Taehyung laughs, and feeds Jungkook the last of the crab. “This is what enjoyment is all about. We indulge, but not beyond a certain extent, so things will stay special, and we’ll keep wanting more.”

“Point taken,” Jungkook lets his chopsticks break the salmon into flakes, dipping a little piece onto the swirl of mayonnaise before topping it over the rice that’s caught between Taehyung's own chopsticks. “Is this why all the good things are out to wring our finances dry?”

Taehyung shrugs, says, “I only choose to look on the bright side of things.”

Jungkook lifts a brow, because keep saying that when you try to check your bank balance and realize that your account no longer exists.

(“Do you want sashimi? Christ, look at what those people at the other table are having— it looks so good—”

“No, we still need to survive the rest of the day, Tae.”

“But— right. Okay, okay, don’t look at me like that, where’d you even learn that—”

“I learnt it from you.”

“I’m not an actual puppy, god. I’m a grown fuckin’ man.”

“If you insist.”)

Sometimes, Jungkook thinks it should be weird that Taehyung is amazed by the simplest and most insignificant of things (but Jungkook likes to think that it’s a good thing, because why else would Taehyung even spare him a glance?), but then there’s the way Taehyung smiles, and wow, it’s already out of this world as it is.

They’re walking, drifting along the sidewalk, when Taehyung tugs Jungkook closer to a short flight of stairs leading towards the small canal running between the roads.

“Stepping stones,” Taehyung's eyes twinkle, and Jungkook misses the warmth of Taehyung's hands when he pulls his fingers away to tread closer to the first stone. “I’ve always thought they had some sort of magical feel to them.”

“Is that you speaking, or your inner child?” Jungkook chuckles, following behind Taehyung as he hops from one stone to the other, until the both of them are standing in the middle of the canal, water trickling south on either side of them, clear and earthy.

Taehyung merely hums, revels in the uncharacteristic squawk that escapes from the seam of Jungkook's smug grin when he reaches over to give the younger a little shove.

“Fuck, do you want me to get hypothermia?”

“I’m sure we’d find a way to save you.”

“Yeah? In case you forgot, I’m not the one who went to med school!”

“Well, I did. One remedy is sharing body heat, so tell me you don’t want to cuddle with me *****, and I’ll reconsider pushing you in.”

Jungkook gapes at him, the audacity, and resigns to a faint scowl, stretching an arm out in equal parts warning and trying to extend his balance.

“Don’t worry, babe.” Taehyung grins, hopping over until they’re both pressed up chest to chest on the same stepping stone, and Jungkook briefly realizes that Taehyung stands a little taller than him. Oh, mortification, but Taehyung arranges Jungkook's hands to rest on his waist, eyes crinkling at the sides. “You know I like you better alive.”

“We’ll see about that,” Jungkook grumbles, but his arms tighten around Taehyung, and there’s the faintly resonating laugh that shakes Taehyung's frame, filling Jungkook up with warmth and satisfaction.

They’re on the streetcar line to the Ropeway Iriguchi station when it happens.

Taehyung seems to hold Jungkook's hand tighter, and when Jungkook turns to him, questions in his eyes, it starts to sink in. Slowly, at first, then it happens all together, strings up a tightness within Jungkook's chest that won’t let him breathe easy, because—

“Hey,” Taehyung murmurs, and Jungkook has to blink his focus back onto Taehyung's face.

He says, “mm.”

Taehyung doesn’t reply, just leans in, and Jungkook is instinctive to react, letting their lips brush for the briefest of seconds, then more, and more, until when they both pull back, the landscapes outside have changed and the sky seems to be less bright.

Jungkook stares, quiet, into Taehyung's abysmal eyes, and drowns.

— because tomorrow, at this time, Jungkook will be in Seoul, and Taehyung will be where Jungkook can no longer reach out to hold his hand whenever he wants to.

They kiss again in the cable car on Mount Moiwa, Taehyung with his lips parted and Jungkook with his back pressed against the glass, breathing in stuttered moans once Taehyung's kisses start to drift lower.

“I don’t think this is safe—” Jungkook's voice is thick, rough even, but Taehyung smiles against his skin, and he doesn’t protest much, even when the cable car seems to tilt towards the left, where both their weights reside.

Outside, the sunset is a brilliant splash of pastel hues, the colours sinking lower and lower until all there is, is the lightened black of the sky, and the twinkling of lights (maybe streetlamps, maybe from the windows of someone’s house) beneath them.

The sun swallows up the stars, and this is what Jungkook tells Taehyung later, when they are tangled limbs in bed, and Taehyung is gazing down at Jungkook with so much adoration in his eyes that Jungkook's heart kind of flutters.

“Why is that?” Taehyung's lips are ceaseless, and Jungkook realizes perhaps a little too late that maybe Taehyung's obsession with the human anatomy expands beyond the boundaries of medicine, that apart from fixing, Taehyung likes to break and be broken as well.

A low moan bubbles up at the base of Jungkook's throat as Taehyung's fingers crook in him just right, making his body jerk and his eyes squeeze shut, trembling to the barely-there tickle of Taehyung's breath when he whispers, “I’ve got you,” by Jungkook's ear.

Taehyung touches him differently that night, like he wants to take his time, but they’re running out of it. Jungkook wants to tell him to hurry up, hurry up, please, but he doesn’t, just lets Taehyung's fingers trace over every inch of his skin, mesmerized by the look in his eyes.

“Because,” Jungkook answers, his words slow and slurred, “in the day, you can’t see the stars, but they’re still there.”

“Yeah?” Taehyung's fingers are cool, brushing the bangs away from Jungkook's half lidded eyes, fluttering.

“Sometimes there may be brighter things in the sky,” Jungkook breathes out, already slipping away despite his iron resolve to stay awake, “but the stars will always be there. Don’t forget that.”

Taehyung whispers, “I won’t,” and Jungkook smiles, his eyes closed.

“So even if you can’t see me, I’m always there.”

They part ways at the airport after having a quick ice-cream date, because Jungkook is a bitch to wake up in the mornings and Taehyung had trouble trying to pack all his things into his luggage.

Jungkook's holding his passport in his hand, his air ticket pressed between the pages. Taehyung smiles at him, soft, a little unsure.

It’s a quiet farewell, if not the quietest that Jungkook has ever experienced.

There’s an announcement for Jungkook's flight that blares throughout New Chitose Airport, and Jungkook can see Taehyung's breath catch in his throat. He steps closer, tucks Taehyung into his arms and hugs him so tightly that Jungkook’s not sure if he’s trying to keep them together, or crush them into pieces.

“Text me when you touchdown,” Taehyung murmurs, and Jungkook nods, chasing his lips for another kiss.

He says, “I will. You too.”

“Mm.”

When Jungkook's in queue for boarding, he turns around, and thinks he catches the faded lilac of Taehyung's hair at the opposite boarding gate, on his flight towards Hanoi.

It’s a little empty, a little quiet, a little lonely, but Jungkook's always prided himself in being good at doing things alone, so he closes his eyes, earphones plugged in, makes sure he doesn’t look outside the window during take-off so he doesn’t have to think about the expanding distance between him and Taehyung.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***