Work Text:
Yoongi’s morning is calm. He wakes up to the birds chirping next to his window and the sweet peas greeting him cheerfully. He goes to work on time, and gets his good share of sun in the process; he reluctantly welcomes the warmth wrapping around his limbs. It is nice, it feels nice, even if he hates how god awfully bright the sun is. It is funnily ironic, their love/hate relationship.
Jimin, his co-worker and thing one, greets him with a bright smile, hands busy tying up his apron, and a nod. Yoongi returns it, walking past him into the staff room, a tiny room where they could put their stuff, hang their coats or get changed if needed. Yoongi simply puts down his backpack and takes the hanging apron with his nickname on it, and walks out right away.
“Got any orders so far?”
“Hmm?” Jimin says without looking up from his phone, “Not at all. Seems like today will be peaceful,”
“I hope so,” Yoongi sighs and Jimin looks up with a teasing smile which Yoongi returns, “I’ll get the flowers out,”
“Want me to help, hyung?”
“Nah,” Yoongi says, lifting the bucket filled with white roses, “wouldn’t want to interrupt your sexting session,”
“I’m not—,” Yoongi doesn’t gets to hear the rest of it because he turns around, pushing the door open with his back and once out, he places the roses in front of the store. Once satisfied he whispers at them a soft greeting and they all beam, thankful for the attention. With a smile on his face, he goes back to the store.
This is Min Yoongi’s life, simple and domestic like this. He doesn’t have a cat but he has nearly twenty small pots filled with small flowers, three cactuses and two vines growing in his house and he prefers it that way. Not because plants were easier to take care of but because they made him feel at home (plants, either way, aren’t easier to take care of and whoever who says that can’t listen to them complaining every five damn minutes about— anything, really).
Yoongi would go out every day after saying goodbye to his plants, and either he’d go to school or greet Jimin and get the store ready for the day. His job is simple: take care of the flowers, cheer ‘em up a little, don’t let them wither too soon, and if there’s an order, arrange them. Jimin is in charge of the rest. It's simple like that, and actually really nice.
He places down a bucket filled with lavender and, content with his arrangement, flicks the door sign over. He sighs, listening to the flowers chat normally and is gently pushing the door open (hopefully for the last time in a while) and then someone passes by him really quick— he barely has any time to process anything before there is a strong sound and he hears thousands complaints all of sudden. When he looks back, he sees someone had tripped and had knocked down a few buckets in the process. Yoongi blinks twice before he turns around and walks towards the guy grunting on the ground.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” and even if he means the person lying on the floor, he gets several replies from the flowers. Most of them negative, he feels his heart constrict a little, “I’m so sorry,”
“Uhh,” the guy sits slowly and presses the heel of his hand to his forehead. Slowly, he looks up at Yoongi, squinting, “I didn’t see that,” he says slowly. Yoongi finds it funny enough to laugh softly.
“I mean,” he says, offering his hand to the stranger, “Obviously,”
The stranger takes his hand and Yoongi pulls, hard to help him get on his feet. When he does, he fixes his clothes a little and looks at Yoongi and— okay, he is tall. He is tall and his curly hair is a mess and he has this sun kissed skin that is practically glowing in the morning light and Yoongi might or might not forget how to breathe and— the stranger turns around, looking at the mess he’s done and sighs.
“Oh, I’m really sorry,”
Right, the flowers. He hears the bell chirp and turns his head to look at Jimin with a surprised expression, a little bit of concern washing over his expression, “What happened, hyung?”
“Uhm,”
“I tripped,” the guy explains with a sheepish smile. Yoongi doesn’t wait for the rest of the conversation and instead scrunches down and looks at the mess.
Flowers don’t understand a lot of things, but it isn’t like they were stupid— simply, there is only so much their existences can retain, and the perception of life and death isn’t one of those concepts. They don’t know they live and don’t know they die. They know about the pretty things in life and know about the nasty things in life— it's knowledge that passes down generation after generation through DNA; if said flower lives through a breakup, lives through a funeral, lives through a wedding, and it manages to reproduce, then its children will know about these things, that’s how it works.
So when they are knocked over, they aren’t scared for their lives but their egos. Yoongi tunes out the conversation Jimin is having with the clumsy guy and tries to usher quietly the flowers who aren’t damaged at all. The ones who didn’t make it, though— Yoongi sighs.
“How are they, hyung?” it takes Yoongi a moment to realize Jimin is asking him a question. He looks up and sees both guys looking down at him, and the stranger with a confused face.
“They’re mostly just upset,” Yoongi says simply, “They feel attacked— yes, okay, I know you were attacked, I’m sorry,” he says to the complaining rose he is holding between his fingers.
“Oh!” he looks up when he hears someone gasp, “Oh, you’re like, one of those half human, half plant, right?” Yoongi blinks, the guy’s eyes shine excitedly, “Like, you talk to nature and can grow flowers of your fingertips and—,”
“Yoongi hyung,” Jimin says a little harshly. Yoongi stands up softly, suddenly wanting to disappear, “hyung, get inside. I’ll fix everything else, m’kay?”
“What? But I’ve never really met a plant guy!” those words sting Yoongi, and he hears the sharp intake of breath Jimin does. Not meeting anyone’s gaze he slids himself into the shop.
It isn’t that Yoongi’s kind is weird, not really. It’s just they usually aren’t found in the city, for obvious reasons. It is of common knowledge there are more species of humans, Yoongi had been taught about that in school. But again, he had grown in a small town in Daegu where he wasn’t the only plantae, he had his siblings, his parents, and there were the Cho, who were plantae like them.
And so, because it was normal, no one treated Yoongi differently. Because Yoongi isn’t that different, not at first sight. Looking closely you’ll notice his eyes are dark green, because of the chlorophyll in his system; he doesn’t has the need to eat or sleep, but he can do it either way if we wants to (he doesn’t do it as usual because even if he didn’t need the food, he'll digest it either way and he’ll get fat). He does need to get as much sun as possible and has to drink more water than your average human, but that is as far as the differences go (aside from the obvious, magical features).
Ah, and the vines that grow under his skin. They seem like tattoos, but they’re actually vines who habit Yoongi’s body, if Yoongi dips his fingers in his skin, softly, he can feel how solid they are. The vines, however, don’t talk to Yoongi. Not like the flowers, plants and threes do. He had asked his father about it but he dismissed it— it was nothing to worry about.
“I’m sorry for that, hyung,” he hears Jimin after the ring of the bell, “I’m really fucking sorry, fuck,”
“It’s okay, Jiminnie,” Yoongi says simply, looking at the shelves with small pots, which hold small flowers.
“No, it isn’t,” Jimin grumbles, “that fucking asshole—,”
“Jimin,” Yoongi says, in a warning, and even if his heart aches a little he tilts his head and gives Jimin the most sincere smile he can muster. Jimin sighs, again, while running a hand through his hair, silky strands falling back in place.
“Okay,”
Jimin dropps it.
*
It isn’t that plantae are strange, but humans have this habit of making everything that is slightly different of them a circus freak. They gawk at the unknown and pity them, Yoongi knew this very well when he decided to go to the city to study biology.
Yoongi knows very well what humans are capable of, it only is necessary to look at the story books, look at the streets, or breathe the air. Humans are destructive, they burn petroleum and chop down forests, they throw trash to the sea and hunt down animals; it's terrifying. More often than not Yoongi worries about the possibility of them being the next— that his kind will be hunt down like preys, kept down in captivity. Studied, and messed with. It wouldn’t surprise him, either.
The professors make sure no one harasses Yoongi, going as far as to give him certain privileges but Yoongi understands; they see him as something to be treasured. Most of his professors have never met one of his kind— almost no one in the city has. So at first it is hard to get used to be the mystery everyone wants to know about. By the end of Yoongi’s first year, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t know Yoongi.
“Hyung! Jimin told me what happened the other day,” Hoseok, Jimin’s boyfriend and thing two, says while taking his usual spot next to him in the Cell and Developmental Biology class, “It’s so awful, honestly,”
“Hello to you too, Hobi,” Yoongi says without looking away from his textbook, “Slept well?”
“Slept well? You’re kidding, with the paper we have to hand in today?”
“Which you had two weeks to do, by the way,” Yoongi says, smiling a little.
“Hyung,” Hoseok groans, “Why are you so applied. God, I wish I didn’t need sleep like you do,”
“No, you don’t,” Yoongi says gently, closing his textbook. He turns his head to look at Hoseok and finds him staring at his hands, instead. At the brim of his sleeves, “Oh,” Yoongi says and pulls the sleeve from his left wrist slowly, showing a dark spot in the back of his wrist, “I don’t know how that got there,”
Hoseok reachs for his arm, softly, and looks at it carefully, “Does it hurt, hyung?” his touch is ghost-like, he holds him with such care Yoongi feels fragile. He shakes his head no, “Can I touch it?”
“Hmm,” Yoongi says affirmatively, holding his breath as Hoseok softly dips his fingers just about hard enough for the skin to give in a little. It doesn’t hurt, Yoongi had done it that morning too, when he noticed. It's solid, though. Like a cocoon. Hoseok looks up to him and Yoongi almost chokes on the breath he's holding, because he looks at him with such warmth. Yoongi retrieves his arm slowly, just to make sure he isn’t ripping it off of Hoseok’s hold, because being the subject of such affections does things to his heart and he can’t stand it. Not so early in the morning.
“Hyung, hypothetically speaking,” Hoseok asks, putting out his textbook and going through the pages slowly, “If something were to happen to you, you’d tell me, right?”
“Sure,” if Hoseok noticed his hesitation, he didn’t mention it.
“Okay, wanna grab lunch with me and Jimin?”
“I think I might pass this one, I’m—,”
“It’s okay, Yoongs,” Hoseok says softly, trying to hide the disappointment. Yoongi sighs.
Humans are crazy and confusing. Yoongi sits through the whole lecture, taking notes and highlighting the ones he deems important because he is diligent like that, and because that way he can pretend he doesn’t notice the glances Hoseok keeps sending in his direction.
He met Hoseok during his first year, the younger ushered away a bunch of girls who were showering Yoongi with questions, making him visibly uncomfortable, and ever since then made it his personal job to take care of Min Yoongi, even if he himself made it clear he was fine and didn’t need protection. That’s how he met Jimin, too, thing one, who took a liking to him immediately.
Ever since Yoongi met them, he hasn’t been alone. The two months in which he was new at the city and struggled to get used to it, disappeared from his memory. It is as if before his two friends there wasn’t anything memorable— which isn’t entirely fake either. They make his life funnier, carrying around personalities and smiles that could outshine the sun, it makes sense Yoongi feels comfortable around them. He damns his genetics.
Thing is, the pair confuse him too much for his liking, and Yoongi dosesn’t have anyone else to ask about it but them and his flowers— and his flowers aren’t that helpful at all.
“Uhm, excuse me?” Yoongi looks up and suddenly he feels his stomach drop, “Oh, it’s you!” and the guy who had knocked down the bucket of roses sits down next to him (Yoongi all of sudden regretts not accepting Hoseok’s offer), “Ah, you see. I told my friend what had happened and he said “isn’t there like, one of those dudes in the science department?” he’s from the art department so— anyway, I asked around a bit because what were the chances, am I right? And they told me where to find you and it’s actually you! How crazy is that?!”
Yoongi is scared (and maybe that is an understatement) because new people make him scared. And the guy is all smiles and wrinkled doe eyes, and yet Yoongi can’t help but shrink in himself because humans are crazy.
“Uhm,” he says intelligently, “can I help you?” the guy smiles wider.
“Ah, yes, er— Yoonji-ssi,”
“Yoongi,”
“Yoongi-ssi! Sorry,” he leans against the table, “Right, I wanted to apologize for the other day. Uhm, it wasn’t my intention to fall on the flowers— or be rude, at all, I mean,” he scoffs, “I was just surprised, that is. Because you were so cute and you were talking to the flowers, I mean, how adorable is that, honestly?” Yoongi blinks, he feels himself relax a little because of the younger’s honest tone, “But your friend scolded me for it and, thinking back on it, I was kind of disrespectful and it’s eating me alive, so I wanted to apologize,”
“Okay?” he says, unsure.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi-ssi,” and his lips stretch in a bunny smile that shows almost all his teeth. Yoongi smiles shyly at the guy’s face, and his face lights up, “I’m Jeongguk! Dance major, first year,”
Right, Yoongi thinks, art department.
“I’m a biology major,”
“That’s so cool,” Jeongguk says easily, “I, uhm— was wondering if I could see you around? Maybe?”
“I mean,” Yoongi replies, placing his arms on the table, his guard completely down, “we’re from different departments but—,”
“Not what I meant— oh,” Jeongguk chuckles, “Jesus, you’re really cute,” that is the second time he said it, and this time Yoongi flushes and looks down at his hands, because he is saying it to him directly, with such doe eyes and that makes things to him that he can’t—
Humans are crazy and confusing and dangerous. Damn.
“Well, if I’m not here I’m most likely at the flower shop,”
“Ah, but if your friend hates my guts,” Yoongi hums approvingly.
“He’d beat you to a pulp,”
“He’s smaller than you, hyung!— er, can I call you hyung?" Yoongi shruggs, then gives him a lopsided smile.
“Don’t underestimate his rage, I’m warning you,” Yoongi says with an easy smile. He looks away and— oh, speak of the Devil.
“Oh, shit— Well, it was really a pleasure to meet you, I’m really sorry again!” Jeongguk must notice the shorter male coming with furious eyes to the table they were sitting on. He takes Yoongi’s hand and he freezes for a second, almost panicking, but then realizes Jeongguk was only writing something down and relaxed, “That’s my number, text me, hyung!” Yoongi is confused because he is sure the taller male didn’t have any pen with him when he sat down, but before he can ask, he is standing up abruptly and giving him a radiant smile, “See you again, flowerboy!”
Yoongi’s cheeks burn red as the freshman runs away and Jimin slamms both hands on the table. Yoongi hides Jeongguk’s number under his sleeve.
“What was doing that idiot here?!”
“He studies here, Jiminnie,”
“Was he harassing you, hyung? What was his name? I’m going to fucking report him—,”
“Jiminnie, Jiminnie—,” Yoongi reaches out to the younger’s hand and squeezes it softly, giving him a reassuring smile, “It’s fine, he was apologizing?”
“Apologizing?” Jimin breathes, “Hyung, you should’ve seen yourself! Your body language, it was pure pain, you seemed so scared! My blood went cold when I saw him speaking to you! Dammit!” Jimin runs a hand through his hair and Yoongi frowns, slightly.
“It’s okay, Jimin, really,” Jimin looks at him with a straight face. He is analyzing Yoongi’s emotions, that much is obvious. Yoongi does his best to not look away, trying to ignore the way his stomach tickles under Jimin’s gaze. Jimin sighs, and looks away.
“Fine,”
He drops it.
*
You:
Hi, it’s Yoongi
12:58 am
Jeongguk:
!!!!!
huyng
flowerboy!
I thought id never heard from u!
12:58am
also, wtf
so late do you not sleep or
????
12:59
You:
actually I don’t need to
hahaha
1:00am
Jeongguk:
Cool as fcuk hyungggggggg
jelly
m tired as hell :(
1:01am
You:
don’t be, there’s nothing to be jealous about
also I’m sorry
01:01am
Jeongguk:
wdym
ur so cool! u talk 2 flowers and don’t need 2 sleep
that’s like
goals
1:03am
You:
if you say so, Guk
01:03am
Jeongguk:
?????
omg!!
Jkkdsjfksla
do I get to call you yoongs then?????
01:04am
You:
i'm your hyungg??
01:04am
Jeongguk:
ur my flowerboy
Sjjkdsa okay, gtg
i’ll text you in the mornig??
01:05am
You:
sure, goodnight :)
01:05am
Jeongguk:
:D
see ya!
01:06am
*
Humans are crazy, confusing, and dangerous and smell nice. Jeongguk is sitting right next to Yoongi even if the seat in front of him was empty, and so close Yoongi can’t help but breathe in Jeongguk’s perfume and it is just so nice, Yoongi has to try really hard to not bury his nose in Jeongguk’s neck.
Currently, the younger is telling him the story of how his brother ended up with stapled fingers because he didn’t want to let Jeongguk play wiyh the computer even if it was his turn and Yoongi has to tell him to stop but doesn’t want to— no matter how grumpy Jimin will be if he arrives late to his shift (again) because of certain freshman.
“Ah, you’re making that face again, hyung” Yoongi frowns a little.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, you look all troubled, hyung. Honestly it’s super cute but— I get it if you need to leave,” Yoongi recognizes Jeongguk’s signature easy smile (he has seen him giving it to almost everyone he crosses with, and he is not jealous because of that, not at all—), and if Yoongi didn’t want to leave before, he most definitely doesn’t want to leave now.
“I can always call Jimin, I’m sure he’d understand—,”
“You’d try to convince grumpy for me?” Jeongguk teases, then puts a hand to his chest, “I’m touched, hyung” Yoongi pouts at that because, honestly, what else he can do?
“You know what, never mind? See you arou—,” Yoongi is already standing from the booth but is abruptly jerked down by Jeongguk, whom now is super close and no— Yoongi can’t handle to be this close to Jeongguk, that isn’t good for the human side of him. It makes his heart beat loudly and quickly in his chest and something stir at the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he needs a good gulp of water, “Jeongguk, I’ve got to get to work,” he says but doesn’t try to free himself from Jeongguk’s grip.
“I can’t let you go just yet, hyung, you’ve got something that’s mine,”
“Hmm?” Yoongi tilts his head, frowning, “Do I?”
“Hyung! Are you not going to kiss me goodbye?” oh.
Oh.
Something is overheating in Yoongi’s system, he is actually panicking for a second. Min Yoongi has never kissed anyone, and Jeongguk is some guy he had met three weeks ago, is younger than him and a social butterfly. He is all smiles and doe eyes, and Yoongi can be blinded for the temporary spotlight but he isn’t dumb enough to know that he is only that— temporary.
Who knew who else was waiting for Jeongguk, while the younger is making them wait for the sake of making Yoongi flustered.
Yoongi sighs, and smiles softly. He places a soft peck at the corner of Jeongguk’s mouth, actually holding his breath and while he is at it he wiggled his arm free. When he pulls away, Jeongguk has the nerve to look taken aback, like that wasn’t exactly what he was waiting to happen. Maybe it wasn’t. Yoongi sighs again, standing, this time around Jeongguk doesn’t stop him. He turns around and gives him a bright smile, either way.
“See you around, Jeongguk!”
*
“Run that by me again?”
“I kissed him,”
“You’re fifteen minutes late because you were kissing that ass—,”
“Jimin,” Jimin gives him a hard stare and he seemes like he wanted to say something else, but ultimately decides against it, simply shaking his head in disapproval.
“Okay, hyung” he drops it, “I’m telling Seokjin, though,”
“Jiminnie!”
Where Yoongi comes from, things aren’t that different but you’d have to spend a considerable amount of time on both realms to actually notice that. Anyway, there are differences, of course, and one of those, probably the most evident for Yoongi, is that things back home are simpler. Easier. Yoongi, either way, isn’t the type to let emotions get the best of him, but there are times like these in which small things take a huge toll on him and he can’t, simply can’t, help it.
He is, after all, still (even if only half) human.
There is a soft knock on his door, and the sunflower next to the door screams, it’s the cute boy! Yoongi keeps telling her his name is Jimin, but she refuses to call him that way. Yoongi lets out a loud sigh and finally opts for ignoring him, hoping he’ll go away.
“Yoongi hyung!” the younger knocks again, this time slightly harder, “I got a text from Hoseok hyung that you are skipping class, and I know you are in there. Open the door!”
Jimin, obviously, can’t know that. It isn’t like he can hear the sunflower telling him that yes, indeed he is there and that he hasn’t left the place since Monday night, and that he hasn’t received proper sun ever since either, and that Yoongi can’t be left alone to his devices. Yoongi screws his eyes shut, and presses the heels of his palms to his ears. Jimin will go away, he will go away, why wouldn’t he go away?
Yoongi can feel the loneliness stinging in his chest, and the anxiety of skipping class is eating him alive, too. This is something Yoongi didn’t have to deal with when he was home, there wasn’t a time he felt like he didn’t want to go out, meet his friends or do his chores. He can’t explain it either. It is just suffocating and so, so exhausting. Last time he felt like that was when he fell ill— when he was like eleven years old. Just this time there isn’t any sickness, he can tell because his system is working excellently.
He jolts, opening his eyes, when he feels something touching his hands. In front of him, scrunched, is Jimin looking at him with a slight frown on his features. Yoongi blinks, confused.
“How did you—?”
“I figured you’d have a spare key somewhere, hyung, I actually wasn’t sure but when I moved the sunflower, there it was. I announced I was going to go in, but you—,” Jimin sighs, and his fingers close around Yoongi’s wrists, “What’s wrong, hyung?”
“I don’t know,” he says honestly, because it isn’t like he has something to lose. He can’t hold Jimin’s gaze so he focuses it on his hands, he can see the way Jimin’s fingers contrast against his skin, and the way they hold him so carefully, as if they are afraid of breaking him but more afraid of letting him go. He feels dizzy.
“When was the last time you got direct sunlight? Have you been getting hydrated? You seem pale and… dry,”
“I’m fine,” Jimin stays quiet for a few seconds, Yoongi looks up and notices him worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Finally, Jimin looks away.
“So not in the last twenty four hours, I see,” and with this, he stands up, letting go of Yoongi. Yoongi’s chest stings at that but he doesn’t say anything about it. Jimin looks around the flat and then looks back at Yoongi, but his eyes doesn’t meet him, “I’ll make you a bath, hyung, that should help, right?”
“Yeah,”
“Okay, you just— stay here,” Jimin turns around and Yoongi watches him walk away. He has to take deep breaths from how much it hurts. After all, plants need love to grow up. Keep growing up. Yoongi scrunches back against the wall, from where he is sitting he can see the kitchen and can see the small pots aligned on the counter, still asleep. It is early in the morning, either way, it is fine.
When Jimin comes back, he pulls Yoongi on his feet and drags him to the bathroom, the shades are tied and the light is seeking through without restraint, making the water glow. Pure morning sun, Yoongi feels slightly better just from looking at it, he wants to be bathed in sun, and stay there for a while.
“Get in,” Jimin asks, “I’ll be right back.” Yoongi is pliant. He takes off the t-shirt and gets into the tube; the water is warm, Yoongi feels his pores opening. He sits on the tub with his jeans still on, immediately soaking through, and lets the water cover him completely; then closes his eyes.
Yoongi has a lot of stuff to do, but for a moment he feels his brain actually blocking every thought and just— relaxes. That feeling, pressing his chest so hard it made it ache, was disappearing, slowly, and he can tell his body is gaining energy just from being directly under the light, soaking in water.
“Hey, flowerboy,” Yoongi opens his eyes and frowns, looking to the door to find Jeongguk leaning against the doorframe, with a wide smile.
“Jeongguk?”
“That's me,” he greets, smiling, “Morning,”
“I don’t understand,” Yoongi says, but doesn't bother to sit straight, “What are you doing here, and where is Jiminnie?” Yoongi notices the way Jeongguk’s expression falters a little, but Jeongguk is quick to cover it up. Yoongi frowns deeper, trying to accelerate the process of connecting his emotions back to his brain.
“Jimin called me from your phone, said you weren’t feeling well and asked me to take care of you for the time being,” Jeongguk explains, then finally gets into the room, looking around the place, “He said he’d be back for lunch,”
“I see,” Yoongi presses his lips into a tight line, “I’m sorry, I’m making all you guys worry,”
“It’s okay, flowerboy,”
“But I’m being a nuisance,”
“You’re not,” Jeongguk’s voiced softens, then tilted his head, “I live nearby, after all we study in the same school, right? I always wake up to make breakfast for Tae— my flat mate, and his boyfriend Namjoon, who isn’t my flat mate but might as well be, since he’s always there,”
“I’m still sorry,”
“Don’t be,” after saying that, Jeongguk kneels down and leans against the border of the tube; where he is now, Yoongi can see the way the light curls in his face and make his eyes clearer. He isn’t moving, his body still in complete state of relax, but his heart is beating so fast in his chest he is sure that the water is going to start shaking, “You should meet Tae some time, he’s a good guy. Met him in High School. He’s a little eccentric but he has good intentions only,”
Yoongi just watches him, quietly. There isn’t much sound coming from the street, and having the younger boy there felt surreal. He can hear the water softly crashing against the sides of the tube and his own breathing. Then, slowly, something starts to burn at the pit of his stomach.
“And you, Jeongguk?” he asks after a while, “Do you have good intentions only?” Jeongguk lets out a breathy laugh and turns his eyes to the water, where he lets his arm hang from the edge of the tub, making his fingers sink on it. He moved them, softly.
“So you’re hydrating? How does it work, exactly?”
“It’s the same as you, really. My skin absorbs the water, maybe just a little more than yours. It isn’t exactly necessary, though. I can just drink water, or take a shower, or have soup, or stand under the rain. This is faster, I guess,”
“Hmm,” Jeongguk dips his whole hand into the water and reaches his wrist, just like Jimin had before, “are these tattoos, hyung?”
“No, that’s an actual vine. It’s inside me,” Jeongguk whistles.
“That’s so cool,” his eyes follow the pattern under Yoongi’s skin all the way to his neck, where it gets lost. Then he looks at Yoongi, “Does it talk to you, hyung?”
“No,” Yoongi swallows and his throat feels dry even if it shouldn’t, “It’s not supposed to, so it’s okay,”
“You’re so amusing, flower. I really, really like you,” and this time Yoongi’s cheeks tint pink and he has to look away. He feels slightly dizzy again.
“I’ve been here enough, could you reach me the towel?”
*
You:
thank you for today, really.
16:02PM
Guk:
Its okay, really!! It was nice spending time w u this morning
also
off topic but u remember I mentioned Tae?
16:02PM
You:
yea
16:03PM
Guk:
alright, there’ll be a party at his boyfriend’s place
his parents are out smth like that nd asked him to take care of the place
wanna come?
16:03PM
You:
Idk guk
don’t do parties
16:04PM
Guk:
oof
pretty please????? :(((((((
for meee??
:(((((
16:05PM
Yoongi stares at the screen, feeling a pang of nervousness, and looks up to Hoseok. Hoseok is reading the textbook and taking notes on the small notebook on his lap. Yoongi cleares his throat.
“Hobi, you go to parties, right?” Hoseok looks up, a little amused, and gives him a soft smile.
“Yeah hyung, why?”
“What is it like?”
“Like every movie you’ve seen out there,” he shrugs, “some are not as bad but mostly it’s just people hanging out, getting drunk and grinding on each other,” Yoongi takes in the new information from Hoseok and then looks back at his phone. He hasn’t answered yet, and Jeongguk would probably sense his hesitation upon the read mark. He weighs down his possibilities.
You:
can I bring someone?
16:09PM
Guk:
??
well ofc
as long as u dont forget to bring urself ;)
16:09PM
Yoongi scrunches his nose, blocks the phone screen (deciding he deserves to be left on read this time) and looks up at Hoseok again, who seems a little fazed.
“Would you come with me to a party?” Hoseok blinks.
“You. Min Yoongi, actual plant, actual flower, a day creature— to a party?” Yoongi nods, solemn, as if there is nothing wrong with it. Hoseok looks at him for a few seconds, expression unreadable, and finally leans against the chair. Sighing, “Sure, Yoongs,”
Yoongi thanks him.
*
Hoseok is doing a great job of dismissing people without being rude and Yoongi is going to have to give him more credit for it. He is actually surprised, too, by the amount of people who seemed interested on him and Hoseok had to tell off— mostly girls, but that didn't leave boys outside of it and Yoongi is remembered, once again, that humans are scary.
“Yoongles!” Yoongi looks up from his cup of— he doesn't know what it is, but it is both sweet and sour and he pretty much loves it at this point, “Jimin just arrived, mind if I go fetch him?”
“Go getcho man,” he says, feeling his tongue a little heavy. He frowns. Hoseok eyes him with something so tender that Yoongi is tempted to tell him to stop doing that because it does things to him, this he shouldn't feel, but before he can open his mouth, Hoseok is gone. Yoongi shigs, the ghost of the bitterness lingering in his chest presses his lungs a little.
“I thought he'd never leave you alone,” Yoongi jolts and turns around to the new voice. The guy standing in front of him is stunning, Yoongi actually forgets to say something and simply stares helplessly. The taller boy laughs, “Yes, people do that around me a lot. I'm Taehyung, I'm Jeongguk's friend. And you're Yoongi, right?” Yoongi nods.
“That’s my name,” Taehyung smiles, laughing softly.
“Jeongguk was right about you, you are super cute,”
“M’not cute,” he frowns.
“Sure,” Taehyung winks at him and Yoongi feels his corporal temperature rise, “the tomcat said you are one of those plant guys,”
“Is that something bad?”
“Not at all! My mom is a witch, actually,” and this time Taehyung’s smile is boxy and a lot more warm than the previous ones; it is more honest, “Obviously I’m not or I’d be cooler but— my mom knows a lot about your kind, she says you are the purest creatures in the fae realm,”
“Your mom sounds nice,” he says, simply.
“She threatened the tomcat, said that if he makes you cry she’ll cut his tongue and reattach it,” Yoongi frowns at this.
“Tomcat?”
“Jeongguk,”
“Why is Jeongguk a tomcat?”
“It means you’re promiscuous,” Yoongi feels his heart pick up at the voice coming behind him, he turns slowly and ses a big toothy smile, “hey there, flowerboy,”
“Are you?”
“Hm?”
“Are you promiscuous?” there it is, Jeongguk’s breathy laugh. The taller man envelopes Yoongi in his arms and rests his chin on the top of his head. Just like before, he doesn’t answer.
“You met Tae,”
“Yeah,” he says softly, “He’s nice,” and when Jeongguk swoons him softly he feels the world spinning and stumbles with his own feet.
“Oh,” Jeongguk says and pries the almost empty cup from his hand, “No more drinks for you. Tae, could you get him a little bit of water?”
“Sure,” then Taehyung looks at him and gives him a soft smile, “Don’t let the tomcat bully you, Yoongi hyung,”
Yoongi thanks him and looks up at Jeongguk. He can barely distinguish the shadows of his face with the bad lightning, but it is there. It is also as pretty as ever, and it is giving him his casual easy smile— the one he has seen giving to so many people.
“I wish that smile was for me,”
“But it is, floweboy,”
“I mean,” he licks his lips, “for me only,”
Jeongguk presses his smile into a tight line and deflates a little. Yoongi ignores the bitterness it brings to him and frowns. Jeongguk looks at him as if he knew something Yoongi didn't and that infuriates him.
Stupid humans and stupid feelings.
So it was to be expected his emotions would get the best of him, which is the reason he conjures the sweetness in his tongue, locks his arms on the back of Jeongguk’s neck.
Yoongi has never used a flower kiss but it was instinct, really. There isn't any science to it. He leans in towards Jeongguk's lips, letting out a small puff of air which contains Yoongi's most sweet pheromones.
Jeongguk looks surprised for a second, as if not expecting anything of what just happened and not knowing what had just happened. Yoongi looks up to him and sees the way his pupils blow up, the look he ses on his face is something he'd relate to need and his heart only can skip a beat before Jeongguk lunges forward, kissing him abruptly.
Honestly, Yoongi knew what would occur, it is the type of thing they teach you on school. However, he realizes too late, that doesn't necessarily mean he is ready for it.
For a second he panics when Jeongguk laps softly at his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and gasps softly against Yoongi’s mouth. Then he thinks of Taehyung, whom might be looking at them.
But then Jeongguk slides his tongue in Yoongi's mouth and the fire that licks pleasantly at the pit of his stomach cleans Yoongi's mind. Suddenly it doesn't matter anymore and he bats his eyes closed.
Jeongguk is smooth, his lips encircle Yoongi's just right and the slow glide of his tongue against Yoongi's has him holding his breath. Yoongi feels Jeongguk's hand cupping the back of his neck and pulling him closer, and when he did so, he also licks the roof of Yoongi's mouth which makes him feel weak on the knees.
It is something Yoongi hasn't experienced before, and every sensation is like a explosion of colors and Yoongi's lungs are starting to burn but he doesn't want to pull away, he can't pull away.
Apparently someone makes the decision, because he is jerked away.
“Sorry for the inconveniences, but we need him for a second,” Jimin's voice comes muffled, he is pulling Yoongi softly but determined and Yoongi follows him stumbling on his feet.
“Jimin—,”
“Hyung, they're only playing with you, can't you tell?,” Yoongi blinks at that, “He's a fucking idiot, I'm going to pull out his enormous teeth one by one,”
“Jimin,”
It all downs on him so quickly. What had just happened, what he'd done. It is suddenly so overwhelming, it all comes to him really quick, like a huge wave breaking on the shore and Yoongi is suffocating.
He can't do this, he feels the tears clogging up behind his eyes, and he can't do this.
“I want to go home,” comes in a whisper. If Jimin doesn't hear it, he seems to feel the Yoongi's tension. He guides him to a chair and sits him down, pulling both hands on his shoulders and leaning down.
“I'll go get Hobi hyung,” he says loud enough, “Don't move, I'll be right back,”
Yoongi nods, nervous. He closes his eyes to not have to see Jimin disappearing from his view, and he stays that way for a few seconds, breathing shallowly.
The music is too loud, and the atmosphere is too tense, and it is deep in the night but Yoongi needs a good recharge because suddenly he feels so deflated and so embarrassed. He wants to bury himself and become a garden plant, that would be ideal.
He kissed Jeongguk because he wanted to prove something, how stupid of him. Taehyung warned him, didn’t he? Obviously he'd know Jeongguk better than anyone; he'd know the real Jeongguk.
Not the dancer Jeongguk or the all smiles Jeongguk.
Oh, stupid, stupid Yoongi.
“Yoongs,” Yoongi's eyes shoot open and he feels the skin of his hands growing colder.
Jeongguk is standing in front of him, looking at him with such dark eyes something stirs in the pit of his stomach.
“Yoongles, Jesus,” Hoseok comes on sight and wraps himself around Yoongi easily, like he belongs there. With his help he is back on his feet and even if Yoongi's senses are dimmed, he is sure he can hear Jimin screaming at Jeongguk, “Let's go home, hmm?”
It isn't like Yoongi wants to say no.
*
“He's following us, hyung,” Jimin says, distressed.
“Jimin,” Hoseok warns, softly.
“Honestly like, what's his problem?” Jimin turns around fully, “What's your fucking problem, dude?”
“It's me,” Yoongi says with a strained voice, “I poisoned him,”
“Excuse me, what?” Hoseok stops walking to turn around and look at him with concern on his eyes. Yoongi feels even worse, “Hyung, is he okay?”
“Ah, yes,” Yoongi nods, softy, “It's just, uhm, this thing we do to, like, court someone?”
“What,” Jimin deadpans, blinking while frowning.
“It's this, spell? I guess that's the best way—, it's called flower kiss. Whoever who gets it will be enamored with the person for about eight hours,”
Hoseok looksat Jimin and Yoongi sees that something is going through them, it makes him feel even a little worse— there are other two people he cares about and doesn't really know. Finally, Jimin shakes his head and turns to Yoongi.
“But he's fine, right? It's not... dangerous?” his voice is deflated.
“No, it isn't,” Yoongi peels himself away from Hoseok and smiles softly, “I'm sorry, I know it's weird and maybe a little disgusting—,”
“Jesus, Yoongles, no—,”
Yoongi doesn't hear the rest because suddenly he is being pulled with strong arms circling his waist. He lets out a gasp as he is pressed against someone's chest.
“Yoongs,” he hears a whisper fanning the hair at the back of his ear; it goes straight to his heart.
“Jeongguk, let go of him, what the fu—,”
“Jiminnie, sweetie, calm down,”
“Hyung, but he's—,” Yoongi screws his eyes shut.
“This is my fault,” he says, interrupting the pair, “I'll take care of it,”
“You don't have to, he's a big boy, surely can fend for himself,”
“It's okay, Jiminnie,” Yoongi says, opening his eyes and smiling, “Either way, I don't want to go back to an empty flat,” Jimin deflates, visibly this time, and looks at Hoseok. Helpless. Hoseok sighs and looks at Yoongi, then at Jeongguk.
“If you're so sure, Yoongles,” he says, but it was obvious his discomfort with the situation, “But let us walk you there, hmm?”
The walk home is silent except for Jeongguk's sweet nothings whispered into Yoongi's hair, straight to his heart.
*
Yoongi has never dealt with the spell, so he doesn't know what to expect (one thing is read it from the book, and another is actually going through with it). Either way, Jeongguk falls asleep curled around him on his couch and Yoongi's heart is aching so much Yoongi is afraid it is going to wither. He cards a hand through soft strands, carefully.
“It was all pretty, wasn't it?” he says, to no one in particular, “Our pathroads. But it all withered.”
(“So, you brain washed me into falling in love with you?”
“If you put it like that, it sounds like something really bad,” Yoongi sighs, looking down at the pancake mix he is working on, “But if you might, that's more or less what happened. Minus the love thing, is infatuation not love,” Jeongguk hums, as if letting the younger know he understands, “I'm sorry,”
“It's okay, hyung,” Jeongguk says breathing out a laugh, “I find it freaking adorable, to be honest. If you hadn't stolen my heart before, you've definitely done it now,”
Yoongi swallows, once again, the bitterness lingering in his mouth)
Jeongguk is looking up at him from where he is sitting. Yoongi tries to not be so conscious about him as he hears the tulips talking about the beautiful lady who has requested them for her gift. Yoongi is caressing their leaves softly and humming along, just to make sure the flowers know he is listening to them, but he is feeling slightly dizzy himself, and a little out of it. He wonders if he needs a little bit more of direct sunlight.
“Hyung, two questions,” says Jimin as he walks out of the staff room, “One, what is doing Jeongguk here?”
“I’m just keeping company,”
“He doesn’t need company,” Jimin retorts, without acknowledging him, “He has me, and he has the plants, too,” he huffs, “Anyway, are those tulips ready?”
f
“Yeah, they’re good,” Jimin gets next to him, their arms pressing and Yoongi’s heart shakes weakly.
“What are they saying, hyung?” Jimin asks in a softy voice, and for a second it feels so intimate Yoongi can’t help the small smile that creeps to his lips.
“They’re mostly just excited, they keep talking about the beautiful lady that chose them,”
“Yoongi hyung, what’s that?” Jimin takes Yoongi’s wrist and examines it closely— it is the same purple spot that Hoseok had pointed; it is bigger now, and it seems like it is starting to bleed under his skin. Yoongi frowns.
“I don’t know, really,” Jimin dips his fingers carefully around it, “It doesn’t hurt,”
“Seems like a flower,” Jeongguk stands next to Yoongi, on the opposite side, resting his forearms on the counter and leaning against it, “It looks like it’ll blossom,”
“Well, I've never seen a flower like that," Jimin thinks out loud, then, "what do you know about flowers, either way,” Jeongguk shrugs.
“Enough,” he pries Yoongi’s hand away from Jimin and looks at it closely, “I think it could be a Red Dragon Flower,” Yoongi goes cold.
He keeps quiet and eventually Jimin huffs, again, “Well, anyway. I’m taking this bouquet with me, I’ll be back soon— don’t try anything or I’ll cut your tongue, tomcat,”
“You told him,” Jeongguk says, looking up.
“He tells me everything, so trust me, I’ll know,”
Yoongi waves Jimin goodbye and then looks at the spot in his arm— can it be? Jeongguk has to be wrong, right? It isn’t possible. Yoongi doesn’t know of anyone who has grown flowers inside. He is going to have to call his father—
“Flowerboy,” Jeongguk sing-songs his nickname, “Is what Jimin said true?”
“What if it is?” Jeongguk pouts and takes Yoongi’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers, then looks up to meet him again.
“Do you talk to him about me?” Jeongguk smirks, Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“You talk to Taehyung about me,”
“Yes, but Taehyung and I are best friends,” Yoongi gives him a soft smile, and quirks a brow.
“I’m not sure what’s your point,” Jeongguk laughs softly and opens his mouth to reply, but his phone goes off and he frowns. He gets it out of his pocket and lights the screen, then his eyes widen.
“Okay, I have to leave. Fuck, I totally forgot what I came here for—,”
“How?”
“I got in and you were talking to the flowers and that was so… endearing, I don’t know, it’s your fault— anyway,” Jeongguk smiles a little nervous, walking away from the counter and towards the door, “Tae is an art major, right? They’re making a small exhibition in school of the whole semester works and he asked me to invite you,”
“When is it?”
“In— two hours, but I’m supposed to go earlier to go help him. Will you come?” Yoongi tilts his head, thinking of it for a few seconds. Then nods.
“Yeah, sure, tell him I’ll be there,” Jeongguk smiles sincerely, and it takes Yoongi’s breath away for a second.
“See you there, then!” and he springs out of the flower shop.
Yoongi can hear the flowers chatting pleasantly next to him but suddenly it is all so quiet. He lets out a soft sigh, and looks down at his hand which was holding Jeongguk’s not long ago. Jimin is so wrong.
*
“Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung beams at him, Yoongi gives him a small smile, shrinking in himself, “Glad to see you made it, how are you?”
“I’m good,” he says simply, looking around the provisional exhibition room, “This all looks amazing, I really like it,”
“Ah, you can’t say that, you haven’t seen my works just yet,” Yoongi smiles wider.
“Well, show me then,”
“Uhm, Jeonggukie is hanging them— he’s stronger than me and well, they’re heavy. We’ll have to wait,”
“Where is he, by the way,” at the mention of Jeongguk, Yoongi starts to look for him in the room. Taehyung grabs his wrist to get his attention back and his hand is so warm around him, he foregoes the panic of having someone touching him so suddenly.
“He’s— busy,” Taehyung says, hesitant, “I— uh, told my mom about you, she said that if you ever need something she’s willing to help,”
“That’s really nice of her,” Yoongi frowns, “You are from Daegu, no? I can feel the ghost of an accent,”
“Ah, yes. Hyung's is a little thicker, I guess. Well, I’ve been living in Seoul good eleven years so—,”
“Actually, there’s something—,” Yoongi pries his wrist away from Taehyung and rolls up his sleeve, “I don’t know what this is. Jeongguk said that it could be a flower but— I don’t know, this isn’t usual,” Taehyung looked at his arm with curious eyes.
“Wait, let me take a picture, I’ll send it to my mom,”
Yoongi nods and while Taehyung bends over with his phone and the camera app open, he looks around the room looking for the messy brown hair and bunny smile. The room is flooded, there are paintings and a few sculptures that Yoongi is dying to go and check out, he is also really curious about what would be Taehyung’s paintings like—
He spots Jeongguk. His slim but tall frame is almost easy to miss, but Yoongi is sure it was him. He feels his chest fill with air but that is quickly replaced when he notices the smaller female standing in front of him.
They are fairly away but Yoongi can recognize the smile he is wearing miles away— it is one of those honest smiles Yoongi has seen only a handful of times. The void in his chest is back on full force, knocking the air out of his lungs.
“Hyung, can you move a little, I need better lightning—,”
“Taehyung,” Yoongi’s voice is so small to his own ears, he looks at Taehyung, “Taehyung, who is she?” Taehyung blinks and then the shadow of something Yoongi doesn’t know cover his features. Taehyung straightens and looks back to Jeongguk, then he lets out a sigh. Yoongi looks at them, too, trying to get his lungs to work.
“That’s Sooyoung,” he explains with a tired tone, “That’s uhm, Jeongguk’s girlfriend,”
As if on cue, Jeongguk bends down and places a soft peck on the girl’s lips. The latter giggles softly and punches the younger’s chest softly. The smile Jeongguk is portraying makes everything worse, Yoongi feels his whole body go stiff.
“I see,” he says, shakily.
“Hyung, I’m sorry, I—,” Yoongi blinks the tears away, he takes a deep breath through a swelling chest. Then the room is too big, and there are too many people, and Taehyung’s is too hot and it hurt, hurt so much, because he knew— he knew all the time.
“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m afraid I won’t see your paintings,”
“I— she wasn’t supposed to be here, but she heard from her friend and just wanted to congratulate me. Please don’t think—,”
Yoongi can't breathe. He has to leave.
“Why are you explaining yourself?” the first tears make its way down Yoongi’s cheeks, “There’s no need, to do that,” he smiles despite his pain, “I’m leaving, though,”
“Wait, let me—,”
“Congrats on your work, Taehyung,”
“Yoongi hyung!”
Yoongi doesn’t hear the rest. He doesn’t hear the rest because the pain is pressing his chest and he feels the bitterness crawling through his throat and of course emotions would get the best of him, why wouldn’t they? So he turns around and makes his way out of the small room, out of the arts department, and tries his best to ignore the strange stares he is getting.
He knows his hair is turning white, that’s what happens when Yoongi cries, which is the reason he doesn’t cry that often. Or at all, because before, Yoongi didn’t have much reasons to cry. But that was, of course, before he met humans. That was before Jimin, that was before Hoseok, and that was definitely before Jeongguk.
“Hyung!”
“Taehyung, I said—,” he is yanked backwards and turned around. And there it is, speak of the devil. Jeongguk looks pale and is panting, he is breathing through his mouth and squinting his eyes at Yoongi.
“For a second I didn’t recognize you, what’s with you hair? It wasn’t like that this morning?”
And how dare Jeon Jeongguk reach for him, point out his hair and talk to him about it like nothing has happened. Like he hasn’t just done exactly what Jimin said he would do? Like he hasn’t just crushed the heart between his lungs and the swelling is preventing him from breathing properly.
The bitterness is pooling in his tongue and Yoongi feels his blood boiling in his veins, straight to his head. Jeongguk’s concern makes him sick at heart and he wants to scream at him, to punch him, to do something, anything, just—
He seizes the front of his t-shit and pulls him down. He kisses him, he places all the bitterness in Jeongguk’s mouth, he spreads his hurt in the younger’s tongue, smears the very venom from his shattered heart, and once he is satisfied he pushes him, frowning at him.
Jeongguk looks at him with a dazed expression.
“What was that? What did you—,”
“Fuck you, Jeongguk,”
*
“Run that by me, again?”
“I—I, poisoned him,” Yoongi hiccups against Jimin’s chest, “He— He probably will be sick for the next week,” he burrows himself against Jimin harder and Jimin’s arms come to envelop him tighter.
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not really, no, it’s like… a regular virus,” he sniffles.
“Hmm,” Jimin hums quietly, “Okay then, don’t worry about it, angel. He deserves it,”
“H—He,” Yoongi’s throat keeps closing around the words and he can’t find the strength to finish a coherent sentence.
“Shh,” Jimin lulls him quietly, placing a soft kiss to his forehead, “Hobi is on his way here, angel. Hey, it’ll be fine, I promise,”
“I’m just—,” Yoongi feels unimportant, toyed with, like he is just another flower in the garden, to put in your hair and throw away when it withers.
And maybe the worst part is, he can feel the way his vines are crying, too, under his skin. They don’t understand what is going on but they are on pain and it makes Yoongi cry harder because he wants to make the pain stop, and he wants to stop wanting Jeongguk to come and soothe him— how can you expect the person who hurt you to be the one to fix you?
“I know, Yoongi. I know, I’m sorry,” Yoongi closes his eyes and breathes soft sobs against Jimin’s chest, “I’m so sorry,”
Unknown:
hey, its Taehyung
Jeongguk gave me ur number
dont worry im not mad
none of us is
14:24PM
anyway, I didnt text you to tell u that
its about the thing on ur wrist?
my mom asked me to give u her number
please call her she said its important
[contact attached]
14:26PM
You:
Thank you, Taehyung
I will
14:51PM
Taehyung:
I’m so sorry, hyung
14:51PM
Read 14:52PM
*
Yoongi hugs Jimin tightly, breathing in his perfume and trying really hard to ignore the way his chest feels like it's bleeding on the inside.
“Hyung, hey, you’ll be back soon,” Jimin assures, but doesn’t let go of him either way, “They’ll get you cured and you’ll be back in the blink of an eye, hmm?”
Yoongi doesn’t want to tell Jimin that it isn’t that simple, he doesn't want to think of it either. He simply nods against him and finally pulls away. He rubs the tears away from his eyes and turnsto Hoseok.
“Ready, petal?” he nods.
“Drive carefully, hyung. Call me when you get there, Yoongi hyung!”
“Yes, Jiminnie,” Yoongi says waving his hand and walking towards Hoseok’s car. The taller waves Jimin goodbye, too, and surroundes the car to get to the driver seat, Yoongi follows suit, placing himself on the passenger seat.
Yoongi’s life used to be simple, sadly not anymore. Taehyung’s mother confirmed what Jeongguk said, it is indeed a dragon flower. Problem is, dragon flowers are actually poisonous for plantaes and the longer Yoongi keeps it inside of him, the worst. He needs to go get it removed, and after that he needs to get into treatment so his system can get rid of the reaction. All of this has to be done by experts on the matter— it is actually more serious than he let Jimin and Hoseok know. He could actually wither— and that’s why he is going back to Daegu.
Honest to god, he isn’t sure he will be back.
It has been a long month, filled with new emotions and he is a little tired from all of it. Still on pain, he feels the weight of all the things he could’ve said but didn’t. He feels the absence of Jeongguk in his life (he also feels guilty for making him sick, but details), and even if Yoongi isn’t good at dealing with human emotions, he can’t think of something more relaxing that going back to his town, even if it is just to die.
He hears a small knock on the window, “Flowerboy,”
Yoongi looks up and feels the sun kissing his skin softly. Yoongi tells himself that is ridiculous because it is a cloudy day— how fitting— and the one on the other side of the widow is a boy.
It is a boy with easy smiles and hollow words.
“Hyung, do you want me to make him go?” Hoseok next to him, asks.
“I’m right here, douchebag,”
“I don’t really think you’re in the position of calling me douchebag, asshole—,”
“Hobi, let’s not—,”
“Hyung, just— hear me out? I know I don’t deserve it, or you, and I know I did you wrong but can I? Just five minutes, please?”
Yoongi looks at Hoseok, his eyes are stone cold fixed on Jeongguk and Yoongi feels nothing but the need to refuge on his friends, to run away from all of this and go back home and die if it is necessary— he doesn’t even care.
But the vines under his skin are buzzing weakly, and he knows they want to hear what he has to said. So he just simply looks at him and says, “Three minutes,”
Jeongguk steps away from the door so Yoongi can get out, Hoseok follows him and leans against the car— the message was clear, he is giving them space but is ready to intervene at any moment. Yoongi looks at Jeongguk, squinting his eyes at the brightness.
“Is you hair not turning black?” Yoongi scoffs.
“Yes it will, it’ll take time— first it’ll be blonde, then brown and then black. Thank you for your concern, but my scalp is just fine, and not thanks to you,” Jeongguk sighs, “Was that what you wanted to talk about? My hair?”
“Tae told me about the dragon flower,” Jeongguk states, “I’m so sorry, I—,” Yoongi lifts his hand, stopping him.
“Try again,” Jeongguk looks at him with such a deflated expression, Yoongi’s heart swells a little (just a little) and has to look away, “No? Well, I have a train to catch—,”
“I’m a fucking asshole,” Jeongguk blurts out, “And I’m sorry. I know there’s nothing I can say, what I did— I wasn’t sincere,” Jeongguk looks at Yoongi through his eyelashes, “I didn’t have only good intentions, and I’m so sorry, it’s been eating me alive—,”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the poison—,”
“I mean, yes, wow, I’ve lost weight, I can’t eat anything without throwing it up— I know I deserve that,” Jeongguk’s voice is soft, “You entrusted me your hopes and I— I wasn’t careful. I should’ve told you I was dating someone, I shouldn’t have lead you on,”
“Are you supposed to be redeeming yourself? Because you’re not doing a great job out of it,”
“I’m just… sorry. You are special to me, hyung, and I know I don’t deserve anything from you but I don’t want to lose you, I—,” Jeongguk swallows, “I really like you, I wasn’t lying about that,”
“There’s a weird way of showing it,”
“All my cards are on the table, hyung,” Jeongguk says, taking a step closer. From the corner of his eyes, Yoongi can see the way Hoseok tenses.
“What about Sooyoung?”
“Sooyoung— I mean, she doesn’t really care? It’s kind of an open relationship, honestly,” Yoongi scoffs.
“You guys are made for each other, honestly,” he said in a mocking tone-
“Yoongi—,”
“Jeongguk, all of this could’ve been avoided if you had been honest with me since the beginning. You could’ve told me about Sooyoung and about you liking me, and maybe, fucking maybe, we would’ve figured it out,” Yoongi’s chest is constricting, he feels the bitterness crawling again but he swallows it down (again), “I never did anything to you! I deserved the honesty, I deserved the benefit of the doubt!”
Jeongguk closes his eyes, his lips are parted and this time around Yoongi notices a small scar on his cheek.
Humans are crazy and confusing and dangerous and break your heart—
But even so, after he spoke his mind there is nothing left inside of him but deep adoration flooding Yoongi’s bleeding chest. Tears prickle his eyes and he screws his eyes shut. Because it is so ridiculous, and he's suffering so much for the boy in front of him and he knows it— he knows it, he isn’t forced to forgive him because he has been a complete jackass but Yoongi wants to forgive him so bad, his vines are crying and he wants to forgive him and that is all it took to come undone.
“Just— what kind of fucking spell did you put on me, Jeongguk?”
“Huh?” Yoongi opens his watery eyes, and frowns.
“Why can’t I hate you? I should hate you, you make me feel so insignificant and unimportant, and why can’t I hate you?”
“I’m sorry, hyung, I’m so sorry—,”
“Yoongles, we’re running out of time,”
“I should go,”
“Hyung, please,” Yoongi looks at Jeongguk’s chocolate eyes. And suddenly it is Jeongguk looking at him with an easy smile, holding his arm and waiting for his goodbye kiss.
Forgiveness. Yoongi takes a step closer and takes Jeongguk’s hand on his. He looks up at him and smiles, broken.
“I really should go,” Jeongguk lets out a puff of air and then pulls Yoongi into a tight hug. He is mumbling thank you again and again, and one of them is shaking (Yoongi, probably) but he closes his eyes and breathes Jeongguk’s perfume. Humans smell good.
“I’ll be back and I’ll scream at you for hours and will probably poison you again, because you’re an asshole and you deserve it,” he pulls apart, “I’ll be back,” Jeongguk cups his face, smiling through glassy eyes.
“You better be,” and he places a small peck on Yoongi’s nose, “Text me when you feel like it?” Yoongi made a non-committed hum at that, but it was enough to Jeongguk.
And then Jeongguk pulls away, and Yoongi turns around and gets back into the car, followed by Hoseok. The taller looks at him with concern in his eyes and reaches a hand to clean the trail of tears from his face, Yoongi leans to the touch.
“Are you sure about this?”
“No,” he says, and maybe it is the honesty in his voice but Hoseok smiles, and it gives Yoongi ease. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes.
Hoseok drops it, and Yoongi hears him turning on the engine.