If you turn around, it's a cliff.
It's a world of temptations
What is the boy seeking with his eyes closed?
Open the curtain and crack the mirror.
Among the broken pieces a path opens up.
Inside is out and outside is in.
The world's are twisted and connected.
The intersection of everything.
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Year 20
They ran.
The sirens rang out behind them as they sprinted away, darting down an alley between the buildings, hoping and praying that the officers wouldn't get out and chase them.
Yoongi's laboured breath heaved out of his body as he tried to keep up with the rest of them, measured steps so that they didn't bump into each other as they ran down the narrow gap. They burst out onto another street, widening their stances, picking up the pace again, just in case. Yoongi was sick of running, he decided.
Namjoon, who was in the middle of the pack, craned his neck.
"Let's go to the freight train!" he called out, and Jungkook, the slightest and fasted of them all, darted left along another footpath, towards the station. As they all followed, their sprints turned into a jog as the sirens died down, thankful for the shadows of the tall buildings that protected them as they weaved through them.
"I think we lost them," said Taehyung, breathlessly.
"I can't believe you almost got busted – again!" Hoseok laughed as they all slowed down.
"Me?" cried Taehyung. "You were with me too. You're my accomplices."
"No comment, your honour," laughed Jimin, twirling around buoyantly, still high from the adrenalin.
"We can't afford to get booked," Hoseok said, slinging an arm around Jimin and slowing to a walk.
"Yeah, I'm going to start charging you interest on your bail fees, Taehyung-ah," said Namjoon, who walked next to Seokjin.
"Literally," Jimin scoffed. "We literally cannot afford it."
Taehyung grinned. "I've only been caught twice –,"
"Three times."
"Two of those times you were with him, Namjoon-ah," replied Seokjin, patting his dongsang on the back. Taehyung turned around and poked his tongue between his teeth at his hyung.
"I plead the fifth," Namjoon teased back.
Jungkook settled next to Yoongi, the backs of their hands brushing together as they walked, and Yoongi resisted the urge to reach his pinkie out and curl it around the younger's.
As they approached the side of the station, they ducked through a hole in the chain-link fence, careful not to snag any of their clothes on the cut wires, and walked over the gravel towards the freights.
In his head, Yoongi counted the trains as they went alongside them. One, two, three, four – and Namjoon stepped up onto the small ladder on the side of the blue freight to haul the door open. As they climbed in, even the moonlight wasn't enough to illuminate the space.
"Let's make a fire outside," suggested Yoongi, getting his lighter out of his pocket and clicking the flame on. It didn't do much against the dark, but the tall flame looked nice clouded by the night.
"I'll find the trash can," said Seokjin, jumping back down onto the gravel with a clatter of the stones.
"I'll look for stuff to burn," said Yoongi, walking over to where some old magazines were strewn across the floor, and began collecting the chip packets and chocolate bar wrappers that they had screwed up and left since they had last been here.
He took as much as he could in his hands and met Seokjin outside, dumping it all into the can along with bits of random wood and cardboard they found lying around outside.
"There were some wooden pallets further down," Taehyung said to Yoongi and Seokjin, thumbing down towards the rest of the trains. "Come on, Jungkook-ah!" he called, as he jumped down from the trains. Jungkook appeared by the edge of the door and jumped down after his hyung. The two of them sprinted off into the distance. Yoongi watched them both go, something inside him aching to follow them.
Namjoon climbed down from the freight and appeared by Yoongi's side.
"Got a light?" he asked.
Yoongi looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Trying to quit, Namjoon-ah."
Namjoon watched as Yoongi took the lighter out of his pocket and tried to light the corner of a piece of newspaper, setting it underneath the mound of crap in the trash can.
"But do you have a light?" Namjoon asked, as the fire caught.
Yoongi looked at him and dug into his back pocket, pulling out a box of squashed cigarettes.
"You're a bad influence on me, you know," he said, as he opened the top of the carton.
"Says you, fermenting your own alcohol in the back," Namjoon snorted, taking a cigarette. The moonshine wouldn't be ready until the summer, he thought, as he took a cigarette too and placed the filter between his lips. He felt better already.
"Do we have any drinks?" Seokjin asked, who watched the fire begin to crackle. "Proper drinks," he added, as Yoongi looked down his nose at him.
"There's some whisky left over," Namjoon replied, nodding to the train. Yoongi clicked his lighter on and Namjoon lent forward, letting the end of the cigarette catch on the flame.
Seokjin walked over to the train and poked his face in, leaning on the floor of the freight which came to his chest. "Hoseok-ah?"
"Yeah?"
"Where's the whisky?"
"Here, hyung," replied Hoseok, bringing over a bottle and handing it to Seokjin. Yoongi cupped his hand around the end of the cigarette and lit up, feeling the burn and drag on his lungs as he inhaled. As he breathed out, the smoke swirled around him.
"Have we got any chairs?" Seokjin asked.
"Someone dumped a sofa around the back. We could get that?" asked Jimin, appearing next to Hoseok at the door.
"We can sit on a few of the pallets Taehyung and Jungkook bring back too," added Namjoon, before taking a long drag of his cigarette.
The seven of them drew back together, Jimin and Hoseok with the sofa, brushing it free of leaves and debris, and Taehyung and Jungkook shuffling with a stack of pallets between them. Some they broke up for the fire and some they arranged to sit on, and before they knew it, a roaring fire was emanating from the can, flames licking the air. Yoongi stomped his cigarette out under his boot, the sparks kicking up like dust.
He flopped down onto the sofa, with Jungkook by his side. Instinctively, he wound his arm around the younger, drawing him closer. Jungkook settled in the crook of Yoongi's arm, their warm bodies pressed together, despite the panic that clawed in Yoongi's chest that the others might see and ask questions, questions he didn't know the answer to.
The bottle of whisky was passed around until Yoongi knocked back a large gulp, feeling lightheaded and dizzy from it.
"Yoongi-ah!" Seokjin scolded, who had reached out his hand to take what was a now empty bottle.
"What?" shrugged Yoongi, letting the bottle drop from his grip. "I paid for it."
Seokjin went back to talking to Hoseok and Yoongi looked into the fire, transfixed, the sight of the flames blurring in his eyes. Jungkook shuffled, laying down and pulling Yoongi's thigh to rest under his head. He picked up his lighter and began clicking it down, producing the flame, before taking his thumb off. The click of the plastic rang in his ears.
Hoseok and Seokjin still spoke quietly next to each other, with Namjoon not too far away. Jimin and Taehyung were in a teasing mood, knocking their shoulders together and giggling, poking the fire with sticks so that sparks flew off.
Yoongi looked down at Jungkook, whose eyelids had fluttered closed, his gentle even breath making his chest rise and fall slowly, and Yoongi realised why he felt so tight chested, even out in the fresh air.
He and Jungkook had kissed. They had kissed against the bathroom counter until Yoongi insisted that he put Jungkook to bed, waiting until the younger fell asleep, still thinking about kissing him, trying to ignore the growing bulge in his jeans.
Yoongi spent the night thinking of every single reason why kissing Jungkook was a bad idea. He was younger than Yoongi, for starters, and obviously, that meant that Jungkook's interest in him was nothing more than a crush that Yoongi had let get out of hand. And Yoongi was bad for him, a bad influence, a cigarette smoking, school skipping, binge drinking, good for nothing street rat who lived in a motel and delivered take out in his spare time.
He deserved a better hyung, someone who could give him more, show him the right path, someone who could make his life better.
But that didn't stop the ache in his heart he felt when he remembered Jungkook chose him to come to when he needed help, and it didn't stop the desire that stirred in Yoongi when he remembered the velvet touch of Jungkook's tongue against his and how he panted hungrily into the elder's mouth.
But the next morning, they had woken up and acted as though nothing had happened, like a silent accord they had signed in their sleep. Yoongi had walked to school with Jungkook, and the younger had disappeared into the crowds as if evaporating before his very eyes, and Yoongi wondered if he had dreamt his night with Jungkook entirely.
But here he was, in front of him, laying across his lap, half asleep and likely drunk on Yoongi's whisky and the elder had no fucking clue what they were doing.
Eventually, Jungkook stirred and sat up from Yoongi's leg. He turned to look at the elder and with a mischievous grin on his face, he leaned over and blew out the flame from Yoongi's lighter.
He smirked. "Come on," Yoongi whispered. "Let's get you home." He slapped Jungkook's thigh affectionately and moved from underneath him.
"We should all go," Seokjin said, gesturing to how Hoseok had fallen asleep on his hyung's shoulder.
Yoongi leaned over and pushed Hoseok's shoulder.
"Seok seok-ah," he whispered, and Hoseok roused. "Here," he said, pulling Hoseok forward to stand and bending over in front of him, nestling his butt between Hoseok's legs and pulling him onto his back with a faint yelp from the younger. His arms flopped over Yoongi's shoulders as everyone got up to leave.
Namjoon smothered the fire, as Seokjin walked over and closed the door to the freight train.
"It won't be long before the sunrises," Jimin said wistfully, as he threw an arm around Jungkook's shoulder, the group of them beginning to walk.
"We might see it," Jungkook replied.
"Not all of us," smirked Taehyung, who nodded to how Hoseok had fallen asleep once more against Yoongi's back.
"You got him?" asked Seokjin.
"Yeah," breathed Yoongi, hitching Hoseok higher.
They all walked through the city, where the cars were still running through the streets despite the time on the clock. Seokjin ducked into his Dad's apartment building, taking Taehyung and Namjoon with him to sleep top to tail on his sofa, rather than walk further.
When they got to the turning that led up to Hoseok's attic room, Yoongi let his dongsang slip off his back.
"Will you two be alright?" Jungkook asked, as Hoseok flopped onto Jimin's shoulder.
"Yeah," Jimin replied, giving small taps to Hoseok's cheek.
They walked in a daze along the street, Yoongi, and Jungkook watching them until they could see their figures no more.
Yoongi turned to Jungkook with a sigh, fighting the urge to avoid Jungkook's gaze. "I guess it's just you and me then, kid."
Jungkook bristled. "I'm not a kid."
"You're younger than me, so you're a kid."
"Whatever," Jungkook replied, knocking into Yoongi.
"Are you drunk?" the elder asked, putting his arm around Jungkook's shoulder.
"Not much."
"That's okay. I'm tipsy," said Yoongi, as Jungkook's arm wound its way around the elder's waist. "Are you staying tonight?"
Yoongi could feel Jungkook's reservation at his question. "Can I stay?" he asked.
Yoongi wanted to say 'let's get you home, your Mom will be worried about you' but he knew that wasn't true. He wanted to say 'you should sleep in your own bedroom for a change' but Yoongi knew that he had to share with his brother, and that Jungkook's room didn't feel truly his. He wanted to say, 'being around me is a bad idea because nothing ever good happens to me, and I want to keep you safe'.
But instead, the selfish part of his brain, the part that wanted to keep Jungkook close to him said – "yeah, of course you can stay."
They both stumbled a bit further, into the motel lobby and up the stairs, dragging their feet until Yoongi was fumbling with his keys, trying to get the right key into the lock.
He'd forgotten to turn the heater on before he left so the place was freezing. He hurried over and switched it on whilst Jungkook closed the door, shrugging off his coat which crumpled on the floor, and padded his way to the bed, flopping down with a thud. Yoongi took off his leather jacket and hung it on the hook on the wall and then laid down next to Jungkook, who had burrowed under the covers, drawing them tight around his face.
"Save some for me, brat," Yoongi scolded gently with a smile on his face.
"Too cold," Jungkook replied.
Yoongi tugged the duvet out of his dongsang's grip and laid down next to him. They were face to face on their respective pillows, and it took Yoongi a few seconds to realise they were looking into each other's eyes.
"Goodnight, Jungkook-ah," Yoongi whispered, turning over onto his other side, trying to calm the blush that was rising on his cheeks.
Yoongi stared at the wall, waiting for Jungkook's gentle, sleepy coo that he knew so well. But it never came.
"Hyung, I'm cold," Jungkook whispered after a while, and Yoongi almost jumped.
"The room will heat up in a minute," he replied, nodding to the heater in the corner.
"Hyung," Jungkook whined, and Yoongi felt him edge closer, until he was pressing his back against the elder, one arm snaking around Yoongi's waist. He nearly choked on his own spit when he felt Jungkook nuzzle against his back, and as the younger shifted to get comfy, Yoongi could feel Jungkook's erection pressing against his ass cheek.
"How drunk are you?" Yoongi asked.
"'M not drunk anymore," Jungkook said, although his voice was muffled, hot breath against Yoongi's spine.
Yoongi resisted the urge to press himself back against Jungkook. He felt himself go hot all over, and his cock begin to harden in his jeans.
He wanted him so badly, and yet he felt like he couldn't have Jungkook, shouldn't have him, and that made Yoongi want him all the more.
His fingers curled around Jungkook's that were lazily scraping against his belly, and brought them down to the button on his jeans.
"Is this okay?" Yoongi asked, turning his head slightly to Jungkook.
The younger inched closer still and unbuttoned Yoongi's jeans. "Yeah, hyung," he breathed into Yoongi's ear, rutting his hips against the elder's butt. "It's okay."
Yoongi turned to Jungkook and their lips crashed together. Yoongi rolled over so that they were facing each other again, arms wrapped around each other, tongues sliding into each other's mouths. Yoongi fisted Jungkook's hair as the younger tugged their hips closer and began to rut.
A moan tumbled out of Yoongi's mouth, as he pushed down the waistband of his jeans and boxers, wriggling under the duvet. Jungkook did the same, taking his cock out and Yoongi tried not to look, before realising that of course he was allowed to look, they were both taking their cocks out for each other.
He pushed past the feeling and looked down, seeing Jungkook take his dick in his hand and pump a few times, veins in his forearm bulging as he tugged on himself. A shiver went up Yoongi's spine, as Jungkook reached out his hand and took Yoongi's, bringing it to his shaft.
"Please, hyung," Jungkook said with doe eyes. "Touch me."
Yoongi took Jungkook in his hand and began to pump, the younger arching into his touch and moaning, high and breathy. Jungkook's hand came around and held Yoongi's cock, tugging in time with his hyung. Yoongi shivered, panted out a groan and his eyelids fluttered closed. He rested his forehead on Jungkook's, the two of them stealing loose-lipped, formless kisses, biting down on each other's lips when they twisted on the upstroke.
Yoongi felt like he could feel every curve, every vein in Jungkook's cock, pulsing and heavy in his hand. Pre-come slid down the younger's shaft, his balls drawn up under him and Yoongi knew he was holding back from coming.
The furrow in Jungkook's brow pushed Yoongi nearer to the edge, feeling the familiar sensation of heat swirling and pooling between his legs. The warmth began to spread, and as Jungkook let out a deep moan, Yoongi began to come, hips stuttering into Jungkook's grip, fucking up into his fingers as the younger began to milk his cock. His come spurted onto the mattress below, pooling below his dick.
Yoongi panted out harshly, looking down at the mess he had made, catching his breath. Jungkook wiped his dirty hand on the mattress and lent his face forward to kiss Yoongi delicately on the lips.
When Yoongi came back to his senses, he realised his hand had slowed on Jungkook's dick and the younger still hadn't come.
He took his hand off Jungkook's cock and tugged him nearer by the waist.
"Do you want to come?" Yoongi asked, his voice deep with desire.
"Yes, hyung," Jungkook panted, as Yoongi's hand returned to his cock. Jungkook turned on his back and opened his legs wide. "Yes, please, wanna come," he babbled, throwing his head against the pillow, and arching his back.
"Good," Yoongi whispered, kissing him on the jaw. "Hyung wants to make you come."
Jungkook moaned, drawing his knees up.
"I wanna come for you, hyung," Jungkook whispered, his voice stuttering as the pleasure of Yoongi's hand coursed through him. Jungkook began to thrust into Yoongi's hold, his eyelashes fluttering closed, arching his neck. "Hyung!" he almost cried. "Hyung, I'm close."
"Come for hyung," Yoongi said, as Jungkook pushed his t-shirt up his chest, exposing the curve of his small belly.
Jungkook began panting harshly, and his hips stuttered with one final thrust into Yoongi's hand, painting his stomach white with come. Jungkook's brows pinched together as he panted, looking down at the mess he had made on himself and Yoongi's hand around his cock. He threw his head back against the pillow again as Yoongi worked him through his orgasm.
Yoongi let Jungkook's dick go, wiping his hand on the mattress and curling around Jungkook's frame.
"Sleep now," he whispered faintly to Jungkook, pressing a kiss to his dongsang's cheek.
"I need to clean up first," Jungkook replied.
Yoongi kissed Jungkook's cheek again. "Hyung will do it."
He got up, tucking himself back into his jeans, and made his way to the bathroom, taking some tissue from the roll and returning to the bed. Jungkook's eyes were lazy and fucked out as Yoongi wiped the come off his belly and threw the balled-up tissue onto the ground beside the bed. Jungkook went to pull his shirt down, but Yoongi stopped him with a soft hand on the younger's, pressing sweet kisses to Jungkook's stomach as he hovered over him.
"You've put on weight," Yoongi whispered, kissing the curve of Jungkook's belly. "It's a good thing. I want you to be healthy."
As Yoongi looked up, Jungkook's eyes sparkled. The younger's hand slid around Yoongi's neck and pulled him down, crashing their lips together, both of them almost winded by their own passion.
Jungkook pushed Yoongi onto his back and rolled on top of him. "When can we do that again?" he asked, between kisses on Yoongi's lips.
The elder was afforded a few seconds of thinking time as Jungkook kissed him fervently.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I liked it, though."
"I liked it too," Jungkook replied.
Yoongi wriggled out from under Jungkook placed his hands on the younger's waist.
"Turn around," he whispered.
"Why?" asked Jungkook.
"You said you were cold," replied Yoongi. "Let me hold you."
"No," Jungkook replied with a small shake of his head, pushing Yoongi back down onto the mattress. "Let me hold you," he whispered, turning Yoongi around and burrowing down against his back before the elder could protest.
And as Jungkook fell immediately asleep with his arms around Yoongi's waist, the elder thought for a moment how nice it was to be held, for the first time in his life.
But everything at school was different.
Jungkook would look over at Yoongi, through the window of his classroom, across the courtyard, smiling at Yoongi in the classroom opposite, who would look up, catching Jungkook's eye. The younger would shyly look away, suppressing a smile, blush on his cheeks.
Yoongi would watch from afar as Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook sat around in the cafeteria, laughing, and joking with each other, sharing cups of fries. Jungkook was none the wiser that it was Yoongi who was leaving loose change in the bottom of his bag every time he had gym class. Yoongi had asked Namjoon to fake him a hall pass so he could sneak into the locker rooms whilst no one was around, praying in a cold sweat that he wouldn't get caught.
And in the old classroom, their meetings had become instinctual. Jungkook now knew that Yoongi skipped every design tech class, which aligned with Jungkook's study hour. He would go and sit at the piano, playing his scales and warming up his fingers, and hope and pray that he'd hear the creak of the door.
Jungkook came every time.
"What are you playing today, hyung?" asked Jungkook, as his rucksack dropped from his shoulder, and he closed the door behind him.
Yoongi tried to hide his smile as he turned to the younger, sliding over to make space for Jungkook on the bench as he walked over and perched on the wood.
He turned back to the keys and readied his fingers. "I'm just playing around," Yoongi replied, playing a few chords softly.
"Have you ever written a piece yourself?" Jungkook asked, as their shoulders brushed.
"I don't think I could," said Yoongi, with a small shake of his head.
"You could try."
Yoongi mulled it over, playing a few more chords, before stilling, taking his fingers off the keys, and closing his eyes.
He thought about Jungkook.
Yoongi thought about the deep brown strands of his hair as he raked his fingers against the younger's scalp, the soft skin of his jawline and column of his neck where he traced his lips across, tongue darting to the younger's pulse point. He thought about the swirling orbs of Jungkook's eyes that he got lost in, the crinkle of his nose, teeth bared in a breathy giggle. He thought about the curve of Jungkook's waist against the palm of his hands, how he gripped Jungkook's hips to pull him close – and before he knew it, his hands were scaling the piano once more in a bright, even melody, one that made Yoongi's heart sing along with it.
The tempo of his feelings slowed, winding down to the final notes that pitched through the air like shooting stars.
He thought about Jungkook.
Yoongi opened his eyes and turned to the younger, a small tear sliding down Jungkook's cheek.
With a shaky hand, Yoongi reached out and wiped it away with his index finger.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice croaky and dry.
Jungkook licked his lips. "Hyung," he whispered. "I don't know how to say it."
"Just say it, Jungkook-ah."
Jungkook visibly gulped. "What we do at night…" he began. "We're different to how we are in the day. We seem to pass each other by… but at night… when we come together it's…" Jungkook trailed off. Yoongi wanted to tell him that he didn't have to say anymore, that he understood, but the words died on his tongue.
At night, under the cover of darkness and the duvet, they were wrapped up in each other, sometimes lazy kisses, other times hurried and fervent, always with hands in each other's crotches, panting and moaning, slick with sweat and come and everything. Sometimes tears. But Yoongi would kiss them away and Jungkook's mouth would tug up into a smile, and his brow would pinch, and they would be coming all over again.
But in the day –
Yoongi had resisted the urge to find Jungkook in the day, because in doing that, it would make what they were doing real, and not just a dream, or a figment of Yoongi's deepest desires under the light of the motel sign. And if it were real, then it would become and Yoongi just didn't know if he could become the right thing for Jungkook.
"Jungkook-ah," Yoongi breathed.
He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to hold him in his arms and kiss him and tell him everything was going to be alright, that hyung will do it, but he couldn't promise that. Yoongi had nothing to offer Jungkook except for a cheap mattress, harsh liquor, and stolen moments on a piano bench because nothing about his life was good. Not good like Jungkook was.
Still, he and Jungkook leaned in closer, the tips of their noses touching, mouths parted with shallow breaths, until the old classroom door burst open.
Jungkook and Yoongi jumped apart and turned to the door, where the principal stood, shoulders raised, fists clenched. He looked livid.
"What is the meaning of this?" he spat. Jungkook and Yoongi were both silent. "This room is off-limits to students and you're here during school hours!"
His eyes looked between the two of them and then hardened at Yoongi.
"Min Yoongi, you were on your last chance!" he said, wagging his finger. "This is the final straw, young man."
Yoongi was frozen to the bench, but Jungkook got up and immediately bowed to his senior.
"gyojang-seonsaeng-nim," he said, respectfully. "Please, he was just practicing."
The principal looked at Jungkook venomously, teeth gritted. Yoongi finally found his fire and began to move, as the principal raised his hand and struck Jungkook across the cheek.
"You insolent child!" he spat, as the sound of his violence reverberated around the room.
Jungkook fell to the ground with the sheer volume of the principal's hand, and Yoongi stepped in front of him.
"Get your filthy hands off him, you cunt!" he cried, pushing the principal back with all his might so that he fell against the doorframe, almost stumbling out of the room altogether.
"What did you say to me?" the principal asked, breathless.
"I said, get your filthy hands off him, you cunt," Yoongi replied, in a measured tone. He could hear Jungkook whimpering behind him but wouldn't dare turn his back on a man so violent.
"You think you can speak that way to me!?" the principal asked, his face turning red as he staggered to stand.
"Jungkook, go," Yoongi said, out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes not leaving the principal. "GO!" he cried, and he heard Jungkook scramble on the floor behind him, grabbing the strap of his rucksack and bolting for the window.
"Get back here!" the principal shouted, watching as Jungkook pushed the window open and climbed out.
"If you think you're going to lay another hand on him, you're wrong," said Yoongi as the principal straightened up.
"I don't care about him," the principal said, dusting himself down. "I've been looking for a reason to get rid of you for years, you impertinent, rule-breaking scum." Yoongi said nothing, hardening his stare at the principal, the fire licking in his stomach. "Min Yoongi, you are hereby expelled. Take your belongings from your locker, and if you dare set foot in my school again, I will see to it personally that you are removed."
With that, the principal slammed the door closed, shaking the walls and the ceiling of dust. The adrenalin exhaled out of him, and Yoongi sat down on the piano bench, deflated, and spent.
Fuck, was all he could think.
But at least Jungkook had got out.
Yoongi picked up his rucksack and threw it over his shoulder. He wouldn't go to his locker, there was nothing in there worth taking, and as he turned around to look at the old classroom, he realised it would be the last time.
He would no longer be allowed to come here and play.
Tears filled his eyes as he looked down at the piano, as he thought of all the photocopied sheet music in his rucksack. The last thing he played on that piano was a song for Jungkook, and his heart ached. He pushed it deep down inside of him and blinked back the tears. Crying wouldn't change the outcome.
Yoongi began to walk. Out of the room, out of the corridor, and out of the school. Onto the street and away. Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.
Another school wouldn't take him, not with 'assault on a principal' on his record, and without his diploma, he wouldn't be able to get a decent job. Yoongi pulled out his phone and texted his boss.
Quit school, any hours going in the kitchens let me know. I'm a decent cook.
He pocketed his phone again and kept walking.
It would be him, the motel, and the restaurant for the foreseeable. His very small world had become even smaller, any other option having been taken away from him thanks to the principal's future signature on his expulsion forms.
Yoongi brought out the lighter from his pocket and began to click.
He began walking towards the station, climbing through the chain-link fence when he arrived, and headed towards the fourth freight from the end. On the gravel outside, the burned trash can was still there with the sofa and pallets around it from when the seven of them had last visited. Yoongi didn't want to think about Jungkook telling the others what had happened, the sad look in his eye as he told them how Yoongi had gotten him in trouble with the principal. The principal didn't even care about Jungkook, it was Yoongi he wanted, and now he'd probably never see his friends again.
Pain burned in Yoongi's chest as he opened his rucksack, eyes filling with tears again as he took out the sheet music and dumped it into the trash can. His heart was telling him don't do it, don't do it, but what was the point? He would never be able to play the piano again. What was the point of hoarding sheet music he would never play and only serve as a constant reminder of his own failings?
He picked up one sheet and lit the corner with his lighter. He held it as it blazed before him, the paper crinkling and curling as it folded in on itself. Yoongi held it till the last moment, before the fire singed his fingertips, and let it fall into the can.
The papers went up and the fire grew. Yoongi watched, not even comforted by the ambiance of it because it was still daylight, still the middle of the day when people were going about their business completely unaware that Yoongi's whole life had changed in a matter of minutes.
No, he was burning it just to burn.
He wanted to burn everything to the ground.
Yoongi left before the fire went out.
As he delivered food for the restaurant on the bicycle that night, his phone kept buzzing. The group chat was being inundated with texts, and then Namjoon started to call him, followed by Hoseok, followed by Seokjin. He ignored them all. Then Taehyung texted, then Jimin, but it wasn't until Jungkook's name appeared on his screen that Yoongi looked at his phone.
Where are you?
Then, a text from his boss.
Tomorrow, come in at 10 for the lunch shift till 3.
Thank you, was his reply.
Back to Jungkook's thread.
Working, he replied.
Jungkook's reply: Call me later.
A pit opened up in Yoongi's stomach. He didn't know what to say to Jungkook. Whatever Jungkook wanted, he couldn't give it to him, and what he could give wouldn't be good enough for what Jungkook deserved.
He didn't deserve Jungkook.
Yoongi carried on working, until he took the bike back to the restaurant and got the bus back to the motel and unlocked his door, and flopped into bed.
The days continued on like that. Yoongi got up, went to work, came home before starting the night shift, and ignored his phone the whole time. At some point, the battery ran out altogether and he didn't bother carrying it with him or charging it.
He didn't see anyone, or speak to anyone, he only cycled, chopped, slept, and ate whatever leftovers the restaurant had. He started treating himself to a bottle of whisky on the way home after the Saturday shift, asking one of the older boys from the kitchen to buy it for him, with a bit extra for his trouble.
He would lay there, as Saturday night became the early hours of Sunday morning, tracing his fingers over the pillow and mattress where Jungkook used to lay beside him, the ghost of his body the only thing left.
Yoongi had three hours after the lunch shift finished and the evening shift started. He would come back to the motel and shower, eat a packet of chips, and look out of the window, watching people go about their day, watching cars pass by, and if there was any whisky left, Yoongi would down it until it was all gone.
It was a day like any other, Yoongi thought, until there was a knock at the door. He walked over and opened up, seeing Jungkook standing there in his school uniform.
"Hyung," he breathed. It seemed like a sigh of relief.
Yoongi froze. "What are you doing here?" he stuttered out.
"I had to see you," Jungkook said softly, his brow crinkling.
Yoongi wanted to ask him why.
"You're not answering your phone –,"
"It died."
"Why don't you charge it?"
Yoongi had no answer for that.
"Can you come back to school? Please?" Jungkook pleaded.
Yoongi wanted to slam the door closed. "I got expelled."
"Namjoon's Lit teacher told him what happened," replied Jungkook. "He says you can appeal the decision."
"What's the point?" shrugged Yoongi. "That bastard isn't going to let me back in. No way."
"You can try," pleaded Jungkook. "Please, hyung. Please just try."
"No, Jungkook-ah," Yoongi sighed. "I'm sick of trying."
"Hyung –,"
"No," Yoongi said firmly. "I've got more hours at the restaurant now. I've got more money. I'm fine."
"But…" Jungkook's words fizzled out with a pathetic exhale. "When am I meant to see you?"
Yoongi's heart tugged. And then it dawned on him that Jungkook was here in the middle of the day when he was meant to be at school, meant to be studying and working hard, and instead he was here at Yoongi's motel room. He wasn't good for him, thought Yoongi. He made Jungkook make poor decisions, ones that got him slapped by the principal and skipping school. Jungkook was better off without him.
"Maybe we're not meant to see each other, Jungkook-ah," Yoongi said, averting his eyes from the younger.
Jungkook looked down, biting his lip and Yoongi could tell he was trying to stop from crying.
"We've been trying to tell you for ages, hyung, but Hoseok and Jimin are in the hospital," said Jungkook, his voice wavering, finally raising his head to meet Yoongi's gaze.
Yoongi didn't know what to say.
"How?" he asked.
"Jimin had a seizure and Hoseok was found collapsed on the street. We don't know when they're going to be discharged," explained Jungkook. "But since you don't care enough about us to charge your phone and let us know you're okay then maybe you don't give a shit," Jungkook spat.
Something inside Yoongi snapped. "I don't know what the fuck you expect me to do about it, Jungkook," he hissed.
Jungkook laughed bitterly. It was the worst sound Yoongi had ever heard in his life. "I don't expect you to do a fucking thing," he retorted, turning on his heels and walking away.
"Fine!" was all that Yoongi could reply with, calling out after Jungkook who stomped down the hallway to the stairs.
Yoongi slammed the motel door and was left to the deafening silence afterwards. He hurried over to the bed and clambered over the mattress, picking up a pillow, and began to scream into the soft plush until his lungs began to burn.
The two worlds are back to back.
They constantly become one.
There are seven boys on that path now.
Seven, yet one.