{bangtan; jungkook/suga} sworn secrecy
sworn secrecy
yoongi/jungkook || pg-15 || 0.8k || suggestive themes, angst, fluff
↳Suga is strictly an underground rapper and Jungkook is an idol, the two are in a secret sexual relationship
I never posted this properly but i'm procrastinating for a test. oh yay me
crossposted to ao3
2:43 AM.
Yoongi's not alone, he usually isn't during this time, and he savours the sound of steady breaths that resonate in the otherwise silent room. The warmth from the body next to him is comforting, more than anything else in Yoongi's life, and he just wishes for a little more.
Jeongguk stirs in his sleep, a little crinkle settling on his nose, and Yoongi smiles as he stares softly on the boy. Without his makeup Jeongguk looks so different, so normal and imperfectly perfect, not like the man who sings on the small TV, fans chanting behind the camera about how beautiful he looks. That's bullshit, Yoongi thinks, because they don't really know how far Jeongguk's beauty exceeds in real life, up close. When moments like these come, where Jeongguk sleeps peacefully in his arms without the deep, annoyed wrinkle on his young forehead, Yoongi can appreciate a view no one else can, and he silently thanks God for it.
Yoongi regrets it when he lets Jeongguk leave in the mornings, missing the warmth of Jeongguk's hand in his own from when he had fucked into him with care. He can never bring himself to follow Jeongguk out, too glum and sick with reality to meet Jeongguk's distant gaze. "There's nothing more to it," Jeongguk had said one day when silence had fallen upon them, and Yoongi's unvoiced questions for more lingered in the stiff air. Yoongi had swallowed hard that day. Now, all he raps about in smelly underground clubs and sweaty venues are songs of ashed out hearts, ghosted touches of longing, and wilting flowers from washed out possibilities.
Yoongi wishes for more. And every night he pleads to a crowd of a thousand, words he would never dare to say to Jeongguk's face, for he knows exactly what the idol would say.
"I can't be seen with you," lingers words in Yoongi's mind as he writes his next verse in the confinements of a dark studio, despite the daylight shining outside. Jeongguk's never really said the sentence, but his gaze whispers it every time Yoongi wants to go out for late-morning coffees. Instead, Jeongguk says, "I have a schedule I need to go to," and slips out the door without another sound.
Yoongi can't help but sometimes take it out on his friends, on his music, on anything he does, and he's been told countless of times how depressed and overly pale he looks for his own good. His friends might say that, but fans of his underground music say they relate on so many levels, that they don't quit on life because they've found somone else who's going through a similar pain, and that's what makes things a little bit better. But a smile never settles on Yoongi's face. That's a view only reserved for Jeongguk in their bittersweet moments. He just wishes the idol would appreciate his smiles as much as Yoongi appreciates Jeongguk's.
"Wait," he manages to say one day. Jeongguk's on his way out, already in the unlit hallway slipping on shoes. Yoongi sees how they're fresh off the runway, not a speck of dust on them and vibrant and bizarre enough for only a celebrity to wear.
Unexpectantly, Jeongguk stops and looks up at Yoongi, eyes wide and waiting. Yoongi freezes up too, because honestly he hadn't planned this out. He stays leaning on the wall, clearing his throat hoarsly. Suddenly the room feels stuffier than their earlier heated session in Yoongi's bedroom, and he feels like the ground should swallow him up whole.
"Hyung?" Jeongguk says, eyes still so innocently wide, when the moment drags out for too long.
Yoongi doesn't meet the idol's eyes when he says, "Do you wanna stay?" He regrets it the minute the words leave his mouth, eyes diverting to the half tied shoe in Jeongguk's hand. It's Chuseok, he knows Jeongguk doesn't have any schedule (definitely not informed by Jeongguk's hyperventilating tweets about having three days to spare). If Jeongguk declines, Yoongi's prayers are answered by the devil and reality will hit him hard enough for Yoongi to overthrow Hell. He'll be so broken, not even lyrics will seep out of his battered wounds.
Jeongguk looks frozen, uncomfortable, and Yoongi curses himself. But before his lips can form the sylllables for 'I'm sorry', Jeongguk's answering, "Yeah, okay."
It's simple enough to almost go unnoticed, but Yoongi's heart stops at the words. He almost stumbles to stand up straight, and Jeongguk simply walks past him into the living room, expensive shoes forgotten by the door.
yoongi/jungkook || pg-15 || 0.8k || suggestive themes, angst, fluff
↳Suga is strictly an underground rapper and Jungkook is an idol, the two are in a secret sexual relationship
I never posted this properly but i'm procrastinating for a test. oh yay me
crossposted to ao3
2:43 AM.
Yoongi's not alone, he usually isn't during this time, and he savours the sound of steady breaths that resonate in the otherwise silent room. The warmth from the body next to him is comforting, more than anything else in Yoongi's life, and he just wishes for a little more.
Jeongguk stirs in his sleep, a little crinkle settling on his nose, and Yoongi smiles as he stares softly on the boy. Without his makeup Jeongguk looks so different, so normal and imperfectly perfect, not like the man who sings on the small TV, fans chanting behind the camera about how beautiful he looks. That's bullshit, Yoongi thinks, because they don't really know how far Jeongguk's beauty exceeds in real life, up close. When moments like these come, where Jeongguk sleeps peacefully in his arms without the deep, annoyed wrinkle on his young forehead, Yoongi can appreciate a view no one else can, and he silently thanks God for it.
Yoongi regrets it when he lets Jeongguk leave in the mornings, missing the warmth of Jeongguk's hand in his own from when he had fucked into him with care. He can never bring himself to follow Jeongguk out, too glum and sick with reality to meet Jeongguk's distant gaze. "There's nothing more to it," Jeongguk had said one day when silence had fallen upon them, and Yoongi's unvoiced questions for more lingered in the stiff air. Yoongi had swallowed hard that day. Now, all he raps about in smelly underground clubs and sweaty venues are songs of ashed out hearts, ghosted touches of longing, and wilting flowers from washed out possibilities.
Yoongi wishes for more. And every night he pleads to a crowd of a thousand, words he would never dare to say to Jeongguk's face, for he knows exactly what the idol would say.
"I can't be seen with you," lingers words in Yoongi's mind as he writes his next verse in the confinements of a dark studio, despite the daylight shining outside. Jeongguk's never really said the sentence, but his gaze whispers it every time Yoongi wants to go out for late-morning coffees. Instead, Jeongguk says, "I have a schedule I need to go to," and slips out the door without another sound.
Yoongi can't help but sometimes take it out on his friends, on his music, on anything he does, and he's been told countless of times how depressed and overly pale he looks for his own good. His friends might say that, but fans of his underground music say they relate on so many levels, that they don't quit on life because they've found somone else who's going through a similar pain, and that's what makes things a little bit better. But a smile never settles on Yoongi's face. That's a view only reserved for Jeongguk in their bittersweet moments. He just wishes the idol would appreciate his smiles as much as Yoongi appreciates Jeongguk's.
"Wait," he manages to say one day. Jeongguk's on his way out, already in the unlit hallway slipping on shoes. Yoongi sees how they're fresh off the runway, not a speck of dust on them and vibrant and bizarre enough for only a celebrity to wear.
Unexpectantly, Jeongguk stops and looks up at Yoongi, eyes wide and waiting. Yoongi freezes up too, because honestly he hadn't planned this out. He stays leaning on the wall, clearing his throat hoarsly. Suddenly the room feels stuffier than their earlier heated session in Yoongi's bedroom, and he feels like the ground should swallow him up whole.
"Hyung?" Jeongguk says, eyes still so innocently wide, when the moment drags out for too long.
Yoongi doesn't meet the idol's eyes when he says, "Do you wanna stay?" He regrets it the minute the words leave his mouth, eyes diverting to the half tied shoe in Jeongguk's hand. It's Chuseok, he knows Jeongguk doesn't have any schedule (definitely not informed by Jeongguk's hyperventilating tweets about having three days to spare). If Jeongguk declines, Yoongi's prayers are answered by the devil and reality will hit him hard enough for Yoongi to overthrow Hell. He'll be so broken, not even lyrics will seep out of his battered wounds.
Jeongguk looks frozen, uncomfortable, and Yoongi curses himself. But before his lips can form the sylllables for 'I'm sorry', Jeongguk's answering, "Yeah, okay."
It's simple enough to almost go unnoticed, but Yoongi's heart stops at the words. He almost stumbles to stand up straight, and Jeongguk simply walks past him into the living room, expensive shoes forgotten by the door.