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The moment Yoongi woke up, he knew it was a bad day. His eyes opened, and he instantly wanted to close them again. He was still in bed, but he wanted his body to sink down further, become one with the mattress. Despite getting a full night’s rest, he already felt fatigued, the mere thought of getting up, needing to talk, smile, interact with people too much to deal with.
His face twitched, a half aborted grimace, but he didn’t have the energy for that either. He closed his eyes again, and let out a heavy exhale. Even the act of expanding and releasing his lungs more than usual — it was too much.
An arm wrapped around his waist from behind, and he ducked his head down. He wanted to cry, get it all out, and even if he’d have a headache later it would at least leave him drained of all this—this negative energy. But by this point, Yoongi knew, no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn’t be able to cry, his eyes wouldn’t even be able to water.
He just wanted to go back to sleep, but his mind was already awake, even if his body wasn’t.
“Yoongi hyung, you awake?” A soft voice, normally sweet to his ears was now grating. Nothing against the person, except how Yoongi’s brain decided to wake up today and hate everything and everyone. Even himself — which wasn’t anything new. But even his loved ones, which — also wasn’t new. But was every bit devastating when he later looked back on it.
At least it was the quiet sort of day, where no word would slip from a loosened tongue, not when his jaw felt like it was screwed shut.
The arm around his waist tightened. A pause, and then — “is it a bad day?”
Yoongi ducked his head down, eyes squeezing shut. Oh, how he wanted to cry, to turn around and melt into the one behind him, let him shoulder Yoongi’s burdens for a day, just until he was strong enough to take it back again.
But it was too much. His arm was going numb under him, but Yoongi didn’t want to move, teeth gritting and face curling into a snarl at the mere thought.
“Oh, Yoongi-yah.” A careful hand brushing over his arm, the body behind him rising, and Jungkook leaned over to press a kiss to Yoongi’s head.
His heart twisted, feeling hate, repulsion, anger, but also a soul wrenching sadness, yearning…
He also felt a little blank and distant from everything too.
“It’s okay if you’re having a bad day,” Jungkook whispered into his ear, his hand still on Yoongi’s arms. “But I just need to ask you a couple of questions, you only have to nod or shake your head. Can you do that for me, hyung?”
A second went by, and another, as Yoongi debated if he really wanted to do that. Did he have to? Was it worth it?
It always was. Especially if it got Jungkook to stop talking faster.
He nodded, one short, brisk movement, but Jungkook caught it anyway, pressed as close as he was.
“You’re feeling nonverbal?”
He wanted to roll his eyes. A distant part of him knew, they already hashed this out, that it still helped to communicate whenever they could, as much as they could, even if Yoongi couldn’t. And Jungkook always tried to make it easy for him, keep it as simple and and to the point as needed, so he’d know what Yoongi needed.
He nodded again.
“Are you hungry?”
He thought about it, mentally visualizing his stomach as if to gauge how empty it was, if it needed refueling anytime soon. It did, and he was, but… not right now. Not right after waking up. But he’d be awake for at least a few more hours now, and inevitably, the need to eat would become harder to ignore.
He’d eat then. Maybe.
He shook his head.
“Okay, that’s okay. We can eat later… I’ll just go grab a bottle of water — do you think you can drink some for me right now?”
That would be easier. His throat was parched, he wouldn’t have to open his mouth as much, wouldn’t have to chew… and he knew it would help him feel better too.
Would also stave off his hunger for a little longer.
A nod.
“Last question—“ he already knew what was coming, and was already contemplating his answer to it, “do you want me here, or do you want to be left alone?”
His brain wanted to be left alone — Yoongi wanted his brain to leave him alone. But ultimately, Yoongi didn’t want Jungkook to leave. Not when his arms around him were his only source of comfort right now.
He shook his head, and Jungkook huffed. “Sorry, I forgot to — do you want me to leave you alone?”
He shook his head again, this time a little stronger, a little larger of a movement.
“You want me to stay here?”
Yoongi nodded, but it was back to being a single movement. He was done and tired, and thankfully, Jungkook was done with his own questions too, because with another quick peck to the side of Yoongi’s head, he drew himself out of bed.
Yoongi curled up into himself a little more, already missing the warmth of Jungkook’s embrace.
“I’ll just get your water and I’ll be back, hyung.”
It took him barely a minute, but it was enough for Yoongi’s mind to riot — one part twisting, whispering nasty words — “will he come back? Maybe he had enough and finally left you. You don’t deserve him, it’s better if he left” — another part mentally pleading to just stop everything and sink back into the sweet embrace of slumber.
He didn’t, even with how tight his eyes were shut closed. He couldn’t.
He wanted to cry.
And then Jungkook was back, carefully slipping an arm under Yoongi, helping him up, “just a little, please hyung? For me?” The mouth of the bottle to his lips, a Herculean effort to part them enough for the water to slip through — his mouth opened a little wider, the liquid on his tongue and down his throat awakening an urge he didn’t realize he had, and he was frantically gulping it down, Jungkook barely holding him back from downing the entire thing in one go.
Smart. If he drank too much too soon, he’d have to pee. And for that, he’d have to get up to use the restroom, and…
Too much.
Another press of lips to the side of his head, Jungkook quietly thanking him — “why should he be thanking you? You’re being a burden on him, making him worry so much and have to take care of you, and he’s thanking you? Is he stupid—”
Jungkook carefully guided him back down, and after putting the bottle away, settled down on the bed behind him, arms around Yoongi’s waist to hold him close, forehead pressed to the back of Yoongi’s neck.
Yoongi’s eyes opened. He’d had them closed the entire time but — no. He didn’t like this. It hurt too much.
With a burst of energy, he turned around, a quiet “oh!” of surprise leaving Jungkook’s lips, and he furiously burrowed his way closer, practically burying himself into Jungkook’s chest. His own arms were between them, if only because he felt too small, too tired, like opening them up would require him to take on a larger presence that he had no energy for, even if to drape around Jungkook in return, but Jungkook’s arms around him was enough for now. It would suffice, especially when Jungkook still held him close, their bodies pressed firmly together, more so when Yoongi shyly straightened out his legs to tangle them with Jungkook’s.
Now, with their bodies intertwined to the point that Yoongi could almost forget where his own limbs ended and Jungkook’s began, he sighed. A small, quiet, but content sound, and pressed his cheek to Jungkook’s chest, the steady heartbeat almost a lullaby.
Jungkook dropped yet another kiss down on Yoongi’s head, only Yoongi’s hair preventing those lips from touching his skin. Another time, he’d be grumpy, playfully pouting for a real one. Right now…
He squeezed his eyes. Maybe he wouldn’t cry yet, couldn’t, as much as his body screamed for some sort of release, some way to vent. But the steady pressure of Jungkook’s arms around his waist, their legs tangled, his firm chest against Yoongi’s head… it was calming in its own way.
He was still mad. Angry, upset, furious, and saddened, feeling weighed down by the entire world. But hiding away with his face to Jungkook’s chest like this… he could ignore it just a little more easily.
At least until he was strong enough to keep it at bay again. It was a never ending cycle, but he had Jungkook. No matter what the future held, at least Jungkook was holding him now for this one, and however many others in the future.
It was a small win that seemed insurmountable under his current mental agony, but Yoongi would take it. He’d hold onto it, this and whatever other small wins he got, and later, he’d use it to keep moving, keep talking, and keep smiling.
It would do.