wishes; sugakookie; ynwa;
/
when yoongi wakes up, the world is different.
he can’t tell right away what’s different, but he thinks that it’s something to do with the way the air moves. it’s like spectres, haunts, ghosts walking across the earth. the last he remembers is going to sleep, black out drunk, against the side of his apartment wall. there are beer bottles on the floor and intoxication is the only way he can see him - when there’s alcohol in his blood, yoongi dreams in real life. namjoon calls it hallucination. yoongi calls it second chances.
jungkook in his second-chance-dreams is bright and lively, with brown eyes that gleam even when he’s upset, with hair mussed from movement. he looks as he always does, bright cheeked and alive, reaching out a hand to interlock slender fingers with yoongi’s. in yoongi’s second-chance-dreams, he really does have a second chance. his hands on jungkook’s elbows, push, push, pull, his hands on jungkook’s waist, his neck - yoongi thinks about rage, and when he’s drunk he’s angry. when he’s drunk, he’s sad. jungkook flutters in and out of consciousness like butterflies, flickering dreams, in and out, push and pull and -
when yoongi wakes up, that’s not his world. he can tell. there is something in the air that is different, odd, not as tense.
he remembers the sight of jungkook’s blood on the floor, his body turned away, his cheek pressed against cold asphalt. wide eyes looking up, still, at the sky - brown, sightless. whatever he wanted to see has long been gone. yoongi remembers the fit of his fingers against yoongi’s - perfect, knuckle to knuckle, the spaces between their thumbs. jungkook’s mouth is a wish. he wants it again, but wishes only come true once.
yoongi buried his wishes. he buried his heart. watched it rain. wished for something more than the pain, wished he could quit the drinking, wished he could have kept jungkook close tighter - harder - even when jungkook wanted to run away. he should have closed the door, should have kissed his bruises, should have should have wishes -
jungkook peers at him from above, blinking, “hyung, are you gonna sleep all day?”
yoongi’s breath whooshes out of him.
“kook,” he rasps.
jungkook - smiles. “hyung, we’re going to the beach today for the bonfire, remember? you gotta get ready. i think you’re bringing the beer.”
yoongi’s mouth is dry. jungkook is jungkook is jungkook - the mole under his lip, on his nose, on his forehead, near his eye; flutter of lashes against his cheeks; aegyo sal, bangs swept to the side, dipping a little past his eyebrows.
and he thinks - second chances dreams? - this seems to real to be a hallucination, seems too real to be a figment of imagination, almost like if he can reach out and touch him - just touch him -
“hyung,” jungkook starts, exasperated, leaning over yoongi’s still lack face. the strings of his hoodie hang limply. even still, he leans into yoongi’s hand on his cheek. “come on, let’s wake up.”
“yeah,” yoongi rasps. “sorry, just had a bad dream.”
was it?
“hm,” jungkook says in reply, kissing his cheek quickly.
second chances, yoongi thinks.
“lets forget about the beer,” he says, heaving himself up. “i’ll buy something else. you like banana kicks, right?”
“right,” jungkook says, bewildered, watching him go to the bathroom.
if this is a dream, yoongi thinks, he doesn’t want to wake up.