Archive of Our Own

It was a bad day.

And it had been a bad fucking week–month. 

Logically, Min Yoongi was fully aware that he was catastrophizing when he thought it was the worst fucking week that he’d had in his whole life, but it was high up there, and it was the worst one he’d felt in years at work itself. At almost thirty, he was fully aware of his triggers and issues and things that worked best for him, and he had Jeon Jungkook, who helped to regulate him in ways that he had never dreamed would be possible. 

Unfortunately, Jungkook wasn’t here. 

“Hyung,” Kim Namjoon was quiet as he tried to get Yoongi’s attention, but the word felt like something scratching at his skin–and not in the way that brought relief either. They were meant to be paying attention to the manager giving feedback on the most recent tracks that they had presented for one of the boybands under their label. It wasn’t Yoongi’s favourite work, only because there was other music that he preferred to focus on, but he was still happy with the work that he had done, and he had enjoyed Namjoon and Jung Hoseok’s tracks that they had also submitted. 

Apparently not.

Apparently the long nights for the past fucking month were a complete waste, because one by one, the manager was ripping each of their tracks apart. She had only been there for six months, brought in as a new manager for the idol group they were writing for. They’d had an explosive debut, one that Namjoon and Yoongi had both written for, and they’d brought in a new management team for their sophomore album. 

And everything that they had written and recorded was the absolutely opposite of everything that they wanted. 

Yoongi had had his work discarded before–not just by upper management or when he filled contracts for other artists, but by himself as well, he was his own worst critic. But he never submitted something that he didn’t believe in, and given how closely he had worked with the group leading up to their debut and then this second comeback, he felt like he understood their sound and what the brief was. Especially when listening to the work that Hoseok and Namjoon were submitting and collaborating with him on–it was good. What they had submitted was good.

Just not good enough. 

Logically, Yoongi was aware that that was okay. He’d go back to the studio and start over. It wasn’t the end of the world. 

It absolutely fucking felt like it, though. 

Yoongi had been in a rush that morning and he’d grabbed the coffee Jungkook had prepared for him and left in a small takeaway mug but he’d missed the little pill next to it and his thoughts were all overlapping as a result of it. His ADHD could be a blessing and a curse, just like his Autism, and today it felt as though his thoughts were all crashing together in his head and making his skin feel hypersensitive and his molars ache. Jungkook had put on a load of their washing last night and hung it out on their small balcony to dry but things had still felt a bit clammy, so that the socks he was wearing weren’t ones he liked very much and the seam suddenly felt as though it was grating under his toes. 

People around the table were talking, including Hoseok and Namjoon on either side of Yoongi, and absently he was grateful for the way that Namjoon nudged a bottle of water across to Yoongi, but if he tried to open the cap right now, he was pretty sure his hands would shake too much. He couldn’t hear what it was that was being said exactly, a few words were reaching him through the rushing sound in his ears but he couldn’t follow the actual conversation. He was lucky he had Namjoon and Hoseok who would catch him up later and wouldn’t look down on him for the moment he was having.  

It was just a lot. 

There was just a lot happening in his head at the moment.

And he could handle it, he had been doing it his whole life, before he had even understood why his brain was different from others or why when situations presented themselves he reacted unlike others. 

He was an adult, and he could take criticism for his work. Most of the time he could have a good conversation about it and adjust, he wasn’t some arrogant asshole who couldn’t accept feedback, but the tracks they had put forward were good. They had worked hard on them and already recorded some of the guides with members of the group that had been excited about the pieces and thought they would be a good follow up from the last album. He’d been proud of these tracks and so had Namjoon and Hoseok, and the feedback that they’d gotten already from the higher ups had been positive, so he didn’t understand how suddenly it just–wasn’t good enough.

And then as soon as that thought settled over him, everything began to spiral downwards. 

Not being good enough had long been a problem for him, right since he was a child and he would see his mother crying as she looked at him and yelling at his father before one day she was just gone. 

It had continued even after he had been diagnosed in his early teens and he had some explanations as to why he found things harder–that his brain was actually wired differently.  

“–yung. Hyung,” Hoseok’s hand was hovering over Yoongi’s arm although not touching him, which Yoongi appreciated. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He didn’t actually realize that the meeting was over and as he glanced around, Yoongi saw that it was only the three of them left in the and he let out a heavy, full body exhale before slumping forward and dropping his head onto the table. 

“Fuck,” he grunted and there were sounds of agreement from behind him. Namjoon swore a few times while Hoseok tried to take a more positive approach, as always, saying that two of the tracks had been approved–ones that Hoseok and Yoongi had worked on together–that left them with six, and they didn’t have to completely start over, not really–

Except they pretty much did. At least Yoongi did. With the feedback he’d gotten, it would be better for him to start over right than try to make all the changes he’d be given. He gritted his teeth to stop himself from snapping at Hoseok, zoning out of the conversation his friends were having and breathing deeply, his eyes shut, trying to settle his thoughts and reorient himself. He was thankful Hoseok and Namjoon moved away a bit from him and lowered their voices but waited for him so that they could all leave together when he was ready–he’d known both of them for a long time, Namjoon for over twenty years and Hoseok for nearly ten, and they knew him well. He couldn’t make eye contact with them but he forced a small smile and nodded at them when he stood up, even if it made the skin of his face stretch strangely. 

“Why don’t you go home, hyung?” Namjoon’s voice was low and calm as they left the conference room and headed down the hallway toward the elevator. Thankfully it was already later in the afternoon and the end of the week, so it wasn’t too busy, especially on this floor, and Yoongi counted his steps in his head, just needing to get out of public spaces and away from everyone. “It’s already almost four, we don’t have anything else on, right?” Yoongi was purposefully looking down at his feet but he knew that Namjoon would be looking toward Hoseok to back up his argument, and of course his boyfriend would agree. 

“Yeah! Jungkookie finishes early on Friday’s, right?” Hoseok started prattling on and it was all well intentioned but Yoongi could feel his skin prickling and his shoulders beginning to tense up closer to his shoulders as they waited for the elevator. “I could ask if he could pick you up if you want? I’ll just message him–” 

“No! What the fuck?!” Yoongi hissed, shooting a horrified look at Hoseok just as the elevator arrived and they stepped aside to allow the few people inside to step out, bowing their heads forward as Yoongi fumed. The idea of Hoseok messaging his boyfriend was though Yoongi needed to be picked up from work like a fucking child–he meant well, Hoseok meant well, and it wouldn’t be the first time Jungkook had picked him up but that was Yoongi’s decision. Not someone else's. The idea of someone else making the decision to have his boyfriend pick him up from work–

“Hey,” Hoseok’s voice was much quieter now. “I’m sorry.” Yoongi glanced at him again, and he knew his gaze must still be vicious because Hoseok visibly shrunk away and pressed his lips together and Yoongi instantly felt guilty. He gritted his teeth together, and tried not to think about the seam of his socks, and how it kept digging into the side of his toe. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Namjoon held it open for them and his lips were pinched at the corners and Yoongi knew that Namjoon wouldn’t say anything right now, while Yoongi was in an overwhelmed state, but he definitely wasn’t happy with the way he’d spoken to Hoseok. And that was fair. 

“I’m sorry, Hoseokie,” Yoongi managed to say through gritted teeth, because he knew he should apologize, but he also knew he did not sound sincere in the slightest. He would try again later but right now he just needed to get away from everyone. “Yeah, I–I’m going to head him home. I’ll see you guys later.” There was a get-together they were all invited to on Sunday, Lee Sungkyung’s birthday, which gave him two days to recover. Just the thought right now made him want to throw up and he could already feel his temperature heating up and sweat beading at his hairline. He wasn’t sure if Namjoon and Hoseok said anything behind him, honestly he didn’t care, he just wanted to get to his studio, grab his things, and get out of there. He wanted to be home. 

The first thing Yoongi did when he stepped out of the building was walk in the opposite direction of the apartment building he shared with Jungkook and went to a convenience store to buy three pairs of socks. The store was busy and he assumed loud, but he’d shoved his noise cancelling headphones on the moment he’d left his studio and just nodded silently at the cashier, who gave him an odd look before passing the three pairs of socks back. 

The second pair felt like a heaven he didn’t realize he believed in. 

Yoongi was back at his apartment within half an hour and the moment he stepped inside, he cringed as he saw that Jungkook had torn through corner cupboard with his extra art supplies as well as wardrobe cupboard with all of Bam’s collars and left things on the floor and couch. He would have intentions to clean them up when he got home–and he would, he was good at cleaning up after himself–but irritation burned under Yoongi’s skin. Thankfully all the dishes were washed and the benches were mainly cleared but the drying rack was full and Yoongi had asked Jungkook to make sure they were away before he went to work that morning. 

Just like he had asked Jungkook several times not to leave his things laying out around and most of the time Jungkook was really good, when he had lived alone he had left things out all the time and he had changed a lot for Yoongi. 

Right now, Yoongi’s back teeth were grinding together so hard his jaw was aching and his ears were starting to buzz, and none of those good things were coming to mind, and Yoongi couldn’t fucking believe that today of all days, Jungkook had left a bunch of shit all sprawled over the ground and couch. Clearly he’d been looking for something, and Jungkook had a habit of quadruple messaging and there was something about a purple jacket for Bam but Yoongi had been hyperfixated on his work and hadn’t really been focused on their messages. Whatever he had scanned over, it hadn’t prepared him for there to be a mess all over the floor and couch when he got home. 

“What the fuck?” Yoongi hissed out as he kicked off his shoes and shoved his feet into his favourite pair of slippers. The jacket and his sweatshirt were next, hung up tidily but with jerky hands, shaking off his shoulders and trying to get rid of some of the tension and already aware that it wouldn’t help at all. 

He started trying to clean up, his fingers shaking and his movements stuttering and becoming jerkier as he went on. Absently he was aware that he should open some of the windows and the sliding door to get some proper air and ventilation because despite already being down to his short sleeves he felt as though he was overheating and his skin felt sticky from where he had been sweating earlier and he could feel it coming on again as he fretted. He managed to organise the leads that had been pulled out–and cursed out both himself and Jungkook for the amount of leads that they had for Bam and Holly, who was only there part time–and got halfway through the jackets when his finger caught on something and he let out a yelp. 

“Fuck!” He shouted as he pulled his hand back from a yellow jacket and looked down at where blood was already beginning to pool under his thumb nail and he winced as he sucked his thumb into the corner of his mouth, tears instantly gathering at the corners of his eyes. The anger inside him disappeared almost immediately, the same way it had when he was in the elevator and he’d been hit with the guilt of snapping at Hoseok. Right now he just–he just felt really sorry for himself as his finger began to ache and blood  began to drip down toward his palm as he pulled it out of his mouth to inspect it again. “Shibal,” Yoongi hissed out, and it was a bit more resigned this time, trying to take in a way measured breaths and digging his toes into the sole of his shoes to try and ground himself. 

Yoongi stalked out of the lounge and past the kitchen, his agitation growing again as he noted the rack with the dishes, and it was a physical reaction across his body, the way it felt as though his skin was shrinking in over his bones and making everything feel too small and like he could barely breathe. Could barely fucking exist. He got to the bathroom and ran his finger under cold water, gritting his teeth for a few moments before reaching into the nearby cupboard to pull out some antiseptic and a plaster while trying to figure out what it was that cut him. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and ignored the recent messages, flicking back to the ones Jungkook had sent this morning. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck :(((((

I couldn’t find Bammie’s purple coat this morning, I think I left it at Jiminie’s. 

There’s a rip in the yellow rain jacket we got Holly! I saw it when I was looking for the purple coat. I’ll throw it away later–there’s this sharp wire bit pointing out from inside. 

I think it happened when we went to the park last week? When she went into those bushes? 

I’ll be home earlier than you so I’ll have all my mess cleaned up!! Love you!!

The tears came easily and Yoongi slumped against the bathroom vanity, blood droplets and smudges against the white sink and the plaster half ripped on beside him along with the tube of antiseptic as Yoongi’s body sagged, and shoved his thumb back under the running water. Jungkook was far too good for him, and he always had been, and the way he over-communicated about everything because he knew that was what Yoongi needed from him was just further proof of that–and yet Yoongi still got pissed off at him. 

He could be such an asshole–first Hoseok, and now Jungkook. Even if Jungkook wasn’t there to experience Yoongi’s anger, his thoughts had been cruel as he had been shoving things back into the cupboard, about how lazy Jungkook was, and how he always left things out, and Yoongi always had to put things away. 

He didn’t. 

Yoongi knew he didn’t. 

He was glad Jungkook hadn’t been there and he hadn’t verbalized those thoughts. 

Honestly, he had never understood what it was Jungkook had seen in him and why he had pursued him in the first place–and it had definitely been that way around, Jungkook pursuing Yoongi. The first couple of times they had met had been in big group settings, were absolutely not Yoongi’s favourite experiences and things had been incredibly brief both times. They were both events Yoongi had been prepared for well in advance, and knew a handful of people, and was able to stick with a good group and didn’t stray much at all, including when he was invited to a few new friends. That was when he had met Hoseok’s friend from dance, Park Jimin for the first time, and Jimin’s friend, Jungkook. Jungkook was gorgeous–both of them were, he and Jimin–but there was just something about Jungkook’s smile and the piercing in the corner of his mouth, but it had already been late in the evening and Yoongi hadn’t had much to drink so he really wasn’t up for much socializing but he liked the way Jungkook spoke with his friends. He’d obviously had a bit drunk and it had been mentioned that Jimin was their sober driver, which Yoongi liked and noted, and he wasn’t an obnoxious drunk even though certain topics obviously excited him, and he bowed politely before leaving. It felt like his gaze lingered on Yoongi, but he wasn’t sure, so he brushed it off. 

The second time it was a bit more obvious and Namjoon mentioned it again later, especially since Jungkook had purposefully sat by Yoongi and introduced himself again, apologizing for how drunk he had been last time they had met. 

And then the third and fourth time…It was harder to ignore. 

Jungkook seemed confident and forward and sociable and easy going and hot and just–a lot of things that Yoongi absolutely wasn’t. At least, absolutely not all of those things together in a pretty package. Not to say that Jungkook wasn’t his exact type, but…Yoongi was getting older, and Jungkook seemed substantially younger than him, and they just didn’t seem compatible despite Jungkook’s interest. Yoongi could regulate himself a lot better and his social battery could barely get him through work and several extra social events, much less a dating life. 

But it turned out that despite the fact that Jungkook seemed to be a social butterfly he actually…Wasn’t, really. He was confident in things he knew about, and when he was around his friends, and in himself, and he held himself well, but he preferred to be at home gaming or at a small bar with his friends than at a party with strangers. And Yoongi was so grateful that it turned out that they were actually a lot more compatible than he had originally thought because he had really started to like Jungkook. 

Those very real, raw feelings that he had for Jungkook caught him off guard once he actually let himself admit that he had those feelings and then realized how big those feelings were. He’d shut down and had panic attacks and it had been the worst month he’d had in a few years, something that he blamed Jungkook for unfairly and Namjoon had snapped him out with a harsh reminder that he was choosing to isolate himself and make things worse, not Jungkook. Jungkook had brought him coffee and food from the places that he liked with the specified changes that he always got, getting them delivered because he knew that Yoongi didn’t want to see anyone. Jungkook had ordered food to his home, ordering it for late at night because he knew that Yoongi had been staying at his studio until all hours. Jungkook hadn’t been pushing or spamming his phone at all hours like some lovers might have–like Hoseok kind of did–he just sent a message every few days, saying he missed Yoongi, or a picture of Bam, and that he was there whenever Yoongi was ready to talk. 

Jungkook felt like he was some kind of–perfect person that had been put on this earth for Yoongi. 

At least as close to perfect as a person could be.

Especially after all these years together, given how eager he was to learn everything there was about Yoongi and how he could communicate the right way, and Yoongi had done the same, and it had been hard for both of them at times–especially when they had moved in together. But it had been good, it was really, really good. Yoongi found himself being more flexible with certain things–sometimes it was too much and Jungkook never judged him for retreating to his safe choices for a while. Jungkook was also happy to have simple choices for dinner more often or make two options for them, and stay in rather than going out–while Yoongi knew that going out for walks every day was good for him so he always went with Jungkook on his evening walk with Bam, and Holly when he was with them rather than with Yoongi’s father. It was a good change, one he didn’t expect to make in his thirties, and just one of the many ways that Jungkook had benefited his life. He was respectful and had adjusted his thinking–which Yoongi had also tried hard to do himself, given Jungkook had ADHD himself and had his own struggles–and Yoongi knew that Jungkook tried, he tried so hard. 

A lot of the time it felt like Yoongi just didn’t deserve Jungkook. 

Yet he chose Yoongi.

Even when Yoongi was snippy or demanded to be left alone for hours, Jungkook still chose him. 

Through the few times it was bad, which hadn’t happened often, and had only happened once since they had moved in together and they still had to be prepared for, given Yoongi’s anxiety and depression, he wondered why Jungkook was still there.

In spikes of anger like now, in this exact moment, which didn’t happen often but was an accumulation of things building up, it came rushing back now. Why was Jungkook still with him when Yoongi was so difficult, when Jungkook could do so much better? Yoongi had spiralled because of coats on the couch and because his work had been rejected at work. And because of dishes left out. And because he’d cut his fucking finger. He was an adult. He was fucking ridiculous. No wonder Hoseok had thought he needed to call Jungkook to come and pick Yoongi up from work. 

He knew other people thought that too, wondered why they were together–not everyone, not their friends, not their families, but definitely some people. At a few work events when Jungkook was Yoongi’s plus ones, Jungkook had been approached when he was getting drinks or food and they had been visibly surprised when they had seen that it was Yoongi that he was with. Yoongi tried not to care, but sometimes it bothered him. Sometimes it didn’t, but there were days when it did, and he remembered every single time it happened and they all came back when he was feeling insecure and stuck in a self deprecating cycle of thoughts. They had so clearly been charmed by Jungkook’s sweet goofiness and gorgeous face while Yoongi was mainly known for being talented but quiet and keeping to himself. 

And Yoongi didn’t blame them for wondering, because he did too, over and over again. Not so much now, but in these moments, when everything was this messy, angry, fiery ball in his chest that felt as though it was stretching through his limbs and curling around his heart and lungs and squeezing tight–all his doubts came crashing over him. It was a struggle to breathe, and not to breathe too quickly when he did with how heavy his chest felt–and he wished that Jungkook was here. 

He wished that he had listened to Hoseok or just nodded and kept his fucking mouth shut and accepted help from his friend because things would just feel better if Jungkook was here. After nearly five years together, Jungkook was just really good at calming him down and–and Yoongi just really wanted him there. 

Then somehow, after five or so minutes, he was. 

It turned out Hoseok had already called him, risking Yoongi being further angry at him–or simply knowing that once Yoongi saw Jungkook he would feel better. 

“Hey,” Jungkook’s voice was low and steady as his big hands curled around Yoongi’s pale wrists, his grip tight and grounding, verging on painful but just the right amount of grounding. “Breathe, hyung, breathe,” Jungkook mimicked deep breaths, his expression patient and his exhale exaggerated as Yoongi faltingly tried to follow Jungkook’s pattern. Jungkook was watching him closely, his eyes were flicking all over Yoongi’s face–Yoongi was trying to focus on the tip of Jungkook’s pretty nose and he could see his eyes darting around, trying to figure out how bad Yoongi was feeling. It wasn’t a panic attack, it hadn’t gotten that far today, but he’d been crying hard and his chest was tight and his breathing was all over the place. “You’re okay,” Jungkook murmured. “Everything will be okay.” 

There was something about Jungkook’s touch and his voice that made things start to go quiet and his breathing finally began to slow. His skin was still on fire, too tight and prickly, and his chest still felt achy as he deepened his breathing to match Jungkook’s, but he didn’t feel quite as light headed as more. His eyes very slowly moved up until they met Jungkook’s, not something he was always comfortable with–but it was easier when it felt as though the entire world had zoned out and the only thing that existed was Jungkook. 

“Let me look at your finger, and then maybe a shower?” Jungkook’s words came out as a suggestion but they were easily taken in clear direction and Yoongi let out a shuddery breath. He also realized how much his thumb was throbbing, especially now that the cold water was turned off, and he felt his lower lip beginning to slide out in a pout he would usually try to suppress around anyone else. He was thirty-two years old and he didn’t want to go around crying over a cut on his finger and had a bad day like a kindergarten child.

But he let a tear escape as Jungkook leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the forehead. 

“Just let me look at your finger, hyung,” Jungkook repeated softly and Yoongi exhaled shakily before nodding and turning his palm over. “Ooh,” Jungkook made a sympathetic sound as he saw where the cut was, near the top of his finger, almost right under his nail where the skin was particularly sensitive, and Yoongi felt another tear fall at the sympathy. “How did this happen, hyung?” Jungkook asked, keeping his voice gentle as he opened the bathroom cabinet and took out a few extra things. “What hurt my hyung, hm?” 

“Holly’s jacket,” Yoongi mumbled under his breath as Jungkook carefully dabbed his finger dry and then applied antiseptic cream. 

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed as he glanced at him as he reached for a fresh plaster, given the way Yoongi had torn the previous plaster he’d pulled out. Yoongi cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling briefly, before taking in a deep breath and repeating himself. 

“Holly’s jacket.” Jungkook paused briefly as he was wrapping the plaster around Yoongi’s injured finger, and even from the way that his head was tilted forward, Yoongi could see the brief shift in Jungkook’s expression and he knew that there was a shadow of a smile. It was never more than that though and he didn’t say anything, there was no ‘I told you so’ or ‘why didn’t you read my messages’, he just finished wrapping Yoongi’s fingers and then gave it a kiss. 

“I probably should have done that after you showered,” he said before shrugging. “But it says the plasters are waterproof.” Yoongi nodded, inhaling through his nose before making a move toward the door. “Ah–where are you going?” 

“I–” Yoongi felt frustration flare again at the way Jungkook shifted to block the door to stop Yoongi from leaving. “There’s a mess in the lounge and the dishes need to be put away.”

“I’ll do that,” Jungkook stated. “You shower.” 

“Well, I’ve already started cleaning,” Yoongi hated that he was aware he was being unreasonable, even as he insisted. But the fact he was aware of the mess, something that he could control and put back into place and get in order again, it made the itch under his skin almost unbearable. 

“No, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook’s voice was firmer this time as he held his hands up, palms outward toward Yoongi. “I will clean up–I know you were busy today because you had the presentation and so you might not have gone through my messages. But I was meant to get home before you and I was going to have everything cleaned up, and I will do that now. I think you’ll feel better after a shower.” He knew Yoongi would feel better–Yoongi knew he would feel better after having a burning hot shower. When Yoongi and Jungkook had first been getting to know each other and Jungkook had asked what things made Yoongi feel better, hot showers were near the top of the list. It gave him a reset, especially when he felt like this–when his skin was all stretched over his bones and his bad mood just kept spiking. 

“Fine,” Yoongi grunted, eyes sliding away to fix on the wall behind Jungkook, jerkily rolling his shoulders back, feeling the tension that pulled tight all down down his back and toward his hips. Everything felt stiff and sore and fucking hurt–it felt like every single strand of hair on top of his head hurt and each of his teeth in his mouth. Just–everything. And his brain–it just kept moving, of course it did, he processed the pain, the ache in his skull from the headache that he’d felt building for the past few days and now felt like was crashing over him. He could feel Jungkook watching him but he couldn’t bring himself to look at him, not even in his direction because exasperation was still lingering beneath the surface. Jungkook waited for a few moments, because he always tried to be so patient with Yoongi, but when Yoongi kept stubbornly looking away, Jungkook shifted, reaching around him to get closer to the shower and turn it on. 

It was quiet, but there was a small sigh he let out under his breath and Yoongi felt his entire body prickle. 

He bit down hard on his lower lip to stop himself from saying anything he regretted, because he knew he would, he absolutely would. He wanted to snap, though, to flash his teeth at Jungkook and remind him that Yoongi didn’t ask for his help–Jungkook had no reason to be sighing and huffing over Yoongi’s bad mood when it was Jungkook who had decided to step right into the middle of that bad mood. 

Except then he watched as Jungkook’s hand cupped underneath the falling shower water to test the temperature, and then adjusted it before he was stepping back, and he made sure to move around Yoongi and not bump against him at all, before he was opening the little cupboard in the corner with their towels, pulling out a fluffy yellow one and putting it over the heating rack. Then he looked at Yoongi, and even though there had been a small sigh, the smile he gave Yoongi was genuine and soft, and it made Yoongi’s chest feel tight, and he was grateful that he hadn’t snapped at Jungkook.

His boyfriend was only trying to help.

He was always trying to help, even when Yoongi was overstimulated and acting like an asshole. 

Yoongi took his time taking off his clothes and throwing them into the basket in the corner, one that Jungkook emptied regularly. When he got into the shower, he closed his eyes and he could feel the burning hot water running over his body–exactly the way he liked it–and he tried to just…Let his brain run its course. It wasn’t as though he could turn his thoughts off, and it pissed him off when people implied that it was that easy, but standing under the hot water helped. It wasn’t scalding, which is how he would have had it a couple of years ago, or if he was spiralling particularly bad, but…Jungkook wouldn’t be happy with him if it was. Yoongi’s pale skin would be red for much longer and sometimes it would hurt. 

He should also not be turning the shower temperature on burning hot for reasons other than not wanting Jungkook to be disappointed in him, and when he was in a good frame of mind and steady on his feet he could process all those feelings, but Jungkook–Jungkook was his rock. Jungkook grounded him. 

It was over half an hour later that Yoongi stepped out of the shower and he felt better. Substantially better. Still not great, and there was a dull ache at the back of his skull and his skin was tingling all over, but everything felt a lot more…Settled. 

Unlike with other partners that Yoongi had had, he didn’t feel any rush to finish in the bathroom. Both he and Jungkook liked to take long showers, especially when they had bad days, and to take those showers alone, so when they had been looking for an apartment together it had been important to get one with two bathrooms. The one that adjoined their bedroom was small, just a toilet and a small shower, but it was good enough–and the main bathroom was really good, with a nice bath that they occasionally used.

He brushed his teeth and dried his hair and went through his skin care routine before leaning his hands against the vanity and letting his head droop low between his shoulders as he breathed deeply. 

Tomorrow would be better.

Today had just been…Bad. 

There were bad days. 

It often felt like Yoongi’s reactions to bad days were so much worse than other peoples. Some people would yell or snap or hit things, and then it was over. For Yoongi, it felt like it simmered under the surface while he tried not to let himself overreact and then everything just–exploded. And he couldn’t stop exploding. 

Like some kind of chain reaction, where he just burned anyone who was nearby.

Despite the way he had acted today, specifically with Hoseok, he had gotten a lot better with managing his anxiety and overstimulation and anger. That was why when it came out like it had, and he acted the way he did and hurt the feelings of someone he loved, he felt fucking awful. The memory–every single moment of it, slowed down, in excruciating details–was going to play back in his head over and over again for months to come. He would feel bad about it, guilty, embarrassed, shameful–and rightfully so, he had snapped at Hoseok and acted like an asshole, and that was on top, of the way he had gone silent and slumped down in his chair and practically gone nonverbal in the meeting–he’d acted like a child. 

Yoongi didn’t realize that he’d started breathing quickly until there was a sharp knock on the door and he blinked at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Hyung?” Jungkook said through the door, and while he didn’t sound upset or annoyed his voice wasn’t as upbeat and bouncy as it usually was. 

Yoongi knew his normal voice, and he paid very close attention to the small details of the people closest to him so that he could follow their changes in behaviour as much as possible. Over the years, as he had bounced between therapists and found one who was trauma informed as well as who had experience with neurodivergent clients that it had been a trauma response. Growing up with parents who had high expectations of him to follow in a very specific career path and family life, just like his older brother–it was difficult. He didn’t know why he was different. He didn’t know why he couldn’t be like his brother. He didn’t know why he couldn’t be good enough. He didn’t know why he was fucking broken–

“Hyung,” Jungkook’s voice was firmer this time, and he rapped his knuckles twice against the door before turning the doorknob. He didn’t swing the door open completely straight away, but he cracked it open enough that his voice came through louder this time and Yoongi jumped, jolted out of his thoughts. “Can I come in?” Jungkook asked quietly and Yoongi nodded before clearing his throat when he realized that he needed to speak verbally. 

“Yes,” he said, the word coming out hoarse, and he swallowed hard and dropped his eyes to look away from the reflection so that he wouldn’t see Jungkook’s face as he came into the bathroom. He heard Jungkook’s steps, and he felt his presence behind him but Jungkook didn’t reach out to touch him straight away.

“Do you feel better after the shower?” Jungkook asked. 

“A little,” Yoongi replied, although the truth was he felt a lot better. His body felt heavy in the meltdown hangover stage and his head felt foggy and it was very early in the evening and he was known for staying up late into the night, but he felt like he needed to sleep. “I need to sleep,” he stated, lifting his chin slightly in a nod of permission because he really needed to feel Jungkook’s hands on him all of a sudden. 

“That sounds good,” Jungkook told him, and he read Yoongi so easily, knowing Yoongi so well, because his arms were immediately circling around Yoongi, tight around his chest in a way that made it so much easier to breathe. Especially when Jungkook rested his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder and his gentle scent blanketed over Yoongi, and Yoongi’s body just went limp, his knees feeling unsteady beneath him. Jungkook felt the shift in weight, the heaviness and the way his breathing shifted, and he made sure to accommodate the way he was holding Yoongi. “Let me take you down for a nap, okay?” Jungkook phrased it like a question, but his tone made sure Yoongi knew that he really wasn’t asking. He was telling Yoongi that he was going to go to sleep, just like Yoongi had said he felt like, because Jungkook knew that sometimes Yoongi wouldn't give his body what it needed. 

Jungkook didn’t like it when Yoongi denied his body what it needed. 

That was why Yoongi needed Jungkook. 

“But I–” Yoongi couldn’t help but start to whine. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t help it. It was instinctive to want to argue. To not want to accept that he needed to go down to bed early on a Friday night when everyone else his age was going out to bars with their friends or clubs or movies on dates or just staying up with their partner or their cat–and he was going to work because his boss had given him some bad feedback. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook’s voice was sharper this time, unlike the first time he had knocked on the door. The shower had helped a lot, completely shifting Yoongi’s headspace from the way he had felt when he had entered their apartment over an hour ago. “Go take a nap. I’ve got the room ready for you. I’ll wake you in a few hours when dinner is ready.” Yoongi blinked and he finally looked at their reflection in the mirror. His pale cheeks instantly dusted pink, given Jungkoook was already staring directly at him, but Jungkook’s head had lifted from where it had been resting on Yoongi's shoulder and he was look directly at Yoongi, and it was clear that he didn’t want Yoongi to look away. It could be difficult for Yoongi to keep eye contact, but when it was what Jungkook wanted, then he made sure he kept it. Especially when Jungkook’s big arms were wrapped tight around him and helping him breathe easy for what felt like the first time in the whole day. 

“Okay,” Yoongi mumbled. 

“Good,” Jungkook said as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s bare shoulder and Yoongi shuddered, his eyes closing. He heard an echo of words that Jungkook had said to him many times before. Good boy. “Come on,” he whispered, and Yoongi obeyed. It was easy once he had made up his mind and decided that following Jungkook’s lead was the best thing to do. It wasn't like Jungkook’s plan wasn’t what Yoongi wanted to do anyway–napping for a few hours before waking to a meal that was already cooked, and Jungkook would cook a meal he enjoyed–that was perfect. 

He was so lucky.

Jungkook had turned on the air conditioning unit they had in their bedroom, and it was already nice and cool in there, and the curtains were closed so that it was dark, other than the night light on Jungkook’s side of the bed. That was something that Yoongi preferred that Jungkook brought into their bedroom–one of many things. The night light was pretty, low and inoffensive, purple and starry around the room, and there was a weighted blanket already laid out on his half of the bed. 

Yoongi’s tears filled with tears without his permission as he remembered the way he had snapped at Jungkook earlier–and also at Hoseok, and even at Namjoon–and then how spoiled he was with Jungkook. So many people didn’t have this, people who understood them, a partner who bent over backwards to understand them and give them what they needed when they were overwhelmed and yet he still–

“Hyung,” Jungkook’s fingers squeezed around his wrist, grounding him again, for the umpteenth time, and Yoongi chewed down on his lower lip. He couldn’t really make out Jungkook’s expression in the dim lighting of the room, but Jungkook was clearly looking at him, watching him, and he did that for a few more moments before taking him closer to the bed and then holding out his hand. “Your towel, hyung,” he prompted. 

“Yes,” Yoongi responded without hesitation, taking off the towel from where it was wrapped around his waist, leaving himself naked as he passed the towel over to his boyfriend.  He shivered again, this time from being exposed to the cold air of the room, but it was good, he always slept better when the air was cold around him, and Jungkook knew that. “Thank you,” he murmured. 

“Of course,” Jungkook nodded and he leaned in and kissed Yoongi briefly and close mouthed on the cheek. “Have you eaten recently?” He asked before his gaze was shifting past Yoongi and at the bedside table where Yoongi’s phone was already charging, and there was a bottle of water and a pill. It looked like his anti-anxiety medication, and Jungkook cared more than Yoongi did that he ate before taking it because of the nausea that would follow if he didn’t. He nodded once, because he’d managed to choke back some ramen at lunch. “No longer than two hours and I’ll be back," he said as he ushered Yoongi into bed and then picked up the drink bottle and unscrewed the lid, waiting as Yoongi put the medication in his mouth before passing him the drink. “More, hyung,” he prompted as Yoongi only drank enough to swallow, and begrudgingly Yoongi had another long drink before passing the bottle back to Jungkook. “I love you.” 

“I love you, Jungkookie,” Yoongi whispered as the blankets were pulled up and then tucked around him in the way he liked, before the weighted blanket was carefully organised over him, and then Jungkook was leaning in and giving him a kiss on the forehead. He lingered and Yoongi’s eyes closed for a long time, before Jungkook was straightening up. 

“Sleep well, hyung,” Jungkook said before he was leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, leaving Yoongi alone in the dark, cold room. 

Perfect sleeping conditions. 

A lot of the time it took Yoongi a long time before he was able to go to sleep, but not right now. His brain actually felt quiet and his skin felt like it fit comfortably over his bones, before a sudden thought jolted through him. He half sat up and reached over to pick up his phone. 

I’m sorry, Hobah. Hyung didn’t mean to be such an asshole. I’ll take you to lunch on Monday, okay?

It didn’t take long before got a string of love hearts and dancing emoji’s back from Hoseok and Yoongi let out a long sigh of relief, falling back onto his bed and letting his eyes fall shut again.

Thankfully, sleep came easily. 

Yoongi came out of his nap to a weight on top of him that was a hundred times more comforting than a weighted blanket could ever be–and he would know, he had spent a lot of money on weighted blankets over the years.

Jungkook was better than all of them. 

“Hi,” Jungkook’s voice was gentle. 

“Hi,” Yoongi’s response was groggy. His head felt cloudy but thankfully it was just from sleep. Jungkook kissed him on the head before rolling away and Yoongi couldn’t help but whine a little, pouting as he peeked out from under the covers to where Jungkook was now standing beside the bed. “Why’d you move?” Yoongi grumbled.

“Because I’m cooking dinner,” Jungkook replied with a grin. “And if it burns, your mood is going to be back at square one.” Yoongi pouted even deeper, but he couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth pulled up just a little in the corners at the teasing, and Jungkook's smile got wider, but it was soft. Yoongi knew it was because he was happy that Yoongi was feeling better.

Jungkook had made japchae, which was a nice and comforting meal, and everything was just…Dimmed, and quiet, and the absolute opposite of overstimulating. 

Yoongi was so lucky. 

He had no idea what he had done to get so lucky and end up with Jungkook, because most of the time they were together, he didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone who treated him as well as Jungkook. He tried to show HIM how much he appreciated the way Jungkook looked after him, but it felt like he nowhere near enough showed that. 

He did appreciate Jungkook, though.

He loved Jungkook.

He loved Jungkook so much that it made his chest hurt and his head spin and his palms sweaty and his fingers curl. 

“I love you,” Yoongi stated halfway through their dinner as they were watching some movie. Jungkook had his chopsticks in his mouth and his cheeks full of food and he looked over at Yoongi with wide eyes before chewing quickly and then swallowing his mouthful and smiling across at his boyfriend. 

“I love you too, hyung,” Jungkook responded. “So much.” He stared at Yoongi earnestly, making eye contact so deeply that it made Yoongi’s heart thud quickly and he shifted on the couch and quickly looked back down into his bowl. Jungkook smiled across from him, and Yoongi’s cheeks were warm because he knew Jungkook was still looking at him, but that was okay. He knew that it wasn’t in the studying kind of way that a lot of people looked at him–like his own parents and a lot of the people he had been around growing up–and after a few long moments, he looked away again, back at the TV. 

They spent the night that way, in relatively comfortable silence. They paused the movie to wash the dishes because Yoongi really couldn’t stand the lingering smell of food and that was something that Jungkook had long adjusted to. After the movie finished, the overhead lights were dimmed all the way down with just a small lamp turned on down Yoongi’s end of the couch as he read a book with headphones on and Jungkook put his headphones on and settled back with the playstation controller in his hands. 

Maybe it wasn’t everyone's idea of a perfect evening, especially on a Friday, Yoongi knew how crazy some weekends got for people–and Yoongi did go out sometimes, and Jungkook went out more often than him–but these were his favourites. Just quiet evenings in–when he was reading, or maybe working on something on his laptop, and Jungkook was playing his latest gaming hyperfixation and talking with Kim Taehyung or Felix Lee–while very aware of his close proximity to Yoongi and making sure to keep his voice down low. Occasionally, Jungkook would reach out and touch Yoongi’s knee, or squeeze his thigh, or kiss his cheek, and it didn’t matter that they had been together for almost three years, Yoongi still couldn’t help but blush. 

It was exactly what he needed to wind down after the awful afternoon he’d had, and while he was absently dreading going into the office on Monday, he was also aware that he had good friends, and he had held himself together relatively well in the meeting itself. It wasn’t as though he talked all that much in meetings anyway, and Namjoon had taken over most of the discussion, as usual, and that was appreciated, Yoongi had shut down, and said nothing, which was for the best, and it hadn’t been until after when he had snapped at Hoseok…

That was the part he felt worst about. 

And he would make up for it. 

Tonight, he just appreciated the quiet, the dim lighting, and being able to just exist with his boyfriend. 

It was what he wanted and needed, and Jungkook had known to give him just that. 

Yoongi woke up the next day a lot later than he would usually wake up. His sleeping schedule was a bit all over the place, and he was lucky to have a reasonably flexible schedule, at least to the point where it was okay if he took a two hour nap in the middle of the day when he didn’t have any meetings, and made up for it at the end of the day or came in early instead. He’d dealt with insomnia for a long time and was used to existing in a state of semi-tiredness most of the time, and the day that followed an autistic meltdown were similar to the days that followed when he had migraine–it felt almost like he had a full body hangover despite not going anywhere near alcohol. He hadn’t even really experienced a hangover from alcohol since he was in his early twenties, but he would take one of them over the way he felt now any day. 

Because there was a shame and guilt that came with the way he had treated his friends that didn’t come in the aftermath of drinking, given Yoongi could handle his alcohol well. 

He’d snapped at Hoseok. 

He’d gone rudely silent in the work meeting. 

He’d gotten angry at Jungkook. 

“Hey,” Jungkook’s voice was quiet beside him and Yoongi blinked, realizing how quick his breathing had become as Jungkook’s hand closed around his. Jungkook squeezed his hand a few times, and Yoongi squeezed back harder, his thumb pressing down against where he knew the heart shaped tattoo was. “You okay, hyung?” He was asking in a way that said he knew that Yoongi wasn’t okay, but he was willing to let it go if Yoongi didn’t want to talk about it. 

It was way too early to talk about it. 

“The dogs need to be taken out for a walk,” Jungkook’s voice was gentle and low and Yoongi hummed under his breath as he nodded. Both Holly and Bam had clearly been well worn out from being at doggy daycare yesterday, which Yoongi had appreciated because he had already been overstimulated enough, it would have just been worse if the dogs had been jumping all over him. Holly was good and was very aware of Yoongi’s moods but Bam was still young and could be excitable. “I can bring you back a coffee, if you want?” 

“No, no,” Yoongi yawned as he slowly stretched his arms overhead. “I’ll come with you.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pleased smile on Jungkook’s face, glad that Yoongi was taking the option of coming with him outside on a walk without Jungkook even needing to ask. His boyfriend didn’t say anything, though, which Yoongi appreciated. Instead, Jungkook rolled onto his side, leaning over to press a quick, feather-light kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder even though Yoongi knew that Jungkook would have preferred to blanket himself over Yoongi and cover him in kisses, and then got out of bed to start dressing himself. 

Yoongi took a little longer to get up, stretching his body from his toes right to his fingertips, closing his eyes and letting his whole body wake up as he yawned deeply before finally sitting up as Jungkook opened the curtains of the small window above their bed to let in some sun. Jungkook hovered beside the bed as Yoongi rubbed a hand over his face, and Yoongi knew what his boyfriend wanted, and it wasn’t too much this morning. Physical touch and acts of service were both Jungkook’s love languages, and while a lot of the time Yoongi would roll his eyes when he heard that a man's love language was physical touch, with Jungkook he just liked being close. Sometimes that was too much for Yoongi, but they had come to a good balance and understanding over the years. 

Yoongi puckered his pink lips together and Jungkook’s face visibly perked up before he was leaning in to give Yoongi a kiss on the mouth. It didn’t linger or become open-mouthed like morning kisses often did with Jungkook, another thing Yoongi appreciated, the way Jungkook knew that while Yoongi was giving him those kisses, that was the extent of Yoongi’s limitations now.

“I’ll go get the babies ready while you get dressed,” Jungkook said quietly as he straightened up and he reached out with the tip of one of his tattooed fingers and gently booped the end of Yoongi’s nose. “I love you, hyung,” he added as he looked down intently at Yoongi, and Yoongi could only meet Jungkook’s eyes for a brief moment before his eyes drifted, focussing on the piercing in the corner of Jungkook’s mouth. 

“I love you too, Jungkookie,” he responded earnestly, because he really, truly did. There wasn’t anyone in the world who had ever made him feel the way that Jungkook had, or had cared and loved him the way that Jungkook had. He felt no pressure to rush as he got up, knowing that Holly loved Jungkook just as much as he loved Yoongi and his father–which made him a little jealous at times even though he understood completely–and also knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t be bothered by waiting. He easily found ways to entertain himself and he never held it against Yoongi, despite the fact that Yoongi himself was incredibly impatient and found himself physically reacting when someone wasn’t moving at a pace he approved of. Just another way they were very different. 

Another reason why they were good together. Yoongi’s insecurities often crept up on him but this morning he felt refreshed–a little shaky after yesterday, but that was normal. It was better than he used to feel after having a meltdown like he did yesterday–not that yesterday had really been all that bad, not compared to some incidents he’d had. 

He understood himself a lot better now, and knew what he needed and how to manage himself better and how to self-soothe…And he had Jungkook. 

That was a big difference as well. 

The way Jungkook just seemed to know what he needed, and the way he gently but firmly forced Yoongi to take steps to calm down, even if he had been resistant at first. It had been everything they had talked about before–had done countless times before–the way Jungkook knew he needed to be clean from everything outside and be able to take his time to decompress alone. Jungkook didn’t find offence in the fact that Yoongi needed to be by himself–they had talked about it, a lot–and Jungkook had admitted he’d been hurt at first, but he understood now, years later, after so many conversations. 

“Jungkookie-ah?” Yoongi’s voice was soft as he stepped out into the lounge, looking around from where he could see their two dogs already wearing their jackets and harnesses. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook’s response was just as soft and reassuring as he stepped out of the kitchen with two travel mugs of what Yoongi assumed was coffee. He paused, his chest feeling full to the point it was difficult for him to drag in a breath, before shuffling across the lounge to faceplant against Jungkook’s solid chest. Jungkook easily opened his arms and managed to find something to put down the mugs on and then those arms were wrapping around Yoongi tightly. The pressure was perfect, almost so tight that Jungkook lifted Yoongi off the ground without trying, something he did often and Yoongi didn’t mind at all. He loved how strong his boyfriend was, he loved being a little manhandled and thrown around, and he loved being squeezed tight in Jungkook’s hug or pinned underneath him on the bed with his boyfriend's weight on top of him. 

There were just things that Jungkook gave to him, and helped him with, that no one else ever had. 

Namjoon and Hoseok were incredible and they knew him so well and they had–happily dealt with his oddities and quirks for so long–but there were still parts of him that he tried to keep hidden. That he felt were too big and too bad to show to his friends–but that still crept out at times, like when his frustration had come out toward Hoseok. But there were much, much worse things–like when he couldn’t stop crying for hours on end and scratching at his skin because he felt wrong. There were days on end that could stretch when Yoongi barely said more than a handful of words per day, and even then, it was only because he was prompted by Jungkook.

Yoongi knew he wasn’t easy. 

But Jungkook was always there. 

It had been over five years, and they had been living together for three, and Jungkook had seen him through a lot, and they had been through a lot, and Yoongi liked to think that he had helped Jungkook with a lot as well. 

“Thank you,” Yoongi whispered against Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook’s arms squeezed him tighter for a brief moment before he was pressing a kiss to the top of Yoongi’s head. 

“Always, hyung,” he murmured. “I love you more than anything.” It took Yoongi a moment to reply, even as his chest squeezed again and he felt tears flood to his eyes. The words had been difficult for him for a long time, because he knew how much they meant, the weight that they carried. But for Jungkook, they came much easier than they ever had before. 

“I love you too, Jungkookie. So, so much.”