Work Text:
They grew up together, Jungkook always hanging around Yoongi with those big doe eyes, peering at his older hyung with curiosity and wonder causing galaxies to shine. Yoongi lives with the Jeons, his father under Jeon’s employment, and his own family not exactly well enough off not safe enough to afford any housing elsewhere.
So he grows, a little put off with this little kid always on his tail, but he’s not gonna push away the kid. Sure, he’s always around and has the most randomest of questions, but he gets that Yoongi prefers to be quiet like no other, and as they grow older, they learn to share those quiet spaces, Yoongi slowly but surely also growing to appreciate the company more than he could say.
The Jeons are feared, but it has nothing to do with the night a guy decided Yoongi looked too pretty, all by his lonesome, walking innocently down a street past dark.
And Yoongi’s mind always hated itself, but the loathing of his own body after that pushed him to go further than he ever thought he would.
Jungkook was the one to find him, of course, and rocking back and forth in Yoongi’s tiny bathroom, sobs wracking through his body as they waited for the ambulance, uncaring of the blood — Yoongi’s blood — that was being smeared all over himself as well, he promised, he swore he would never let anything lead Yoongi to such a decision again, regardless that he didn’t know why, didn’t know what actually was the trigger of all things.
Yoongi didn’t tell him, but in the hospital, with Jungkook clutching his hand in a death grip, he softly promised back that — he wasn’t capable of not trying again, but from then on, he swore back that he’d always go to Jungkook first, no matter what.
College was… a new phase. The Jeons funded it, because of course they would, why wouldn’t they for the son of a loyal member. It meant Yoongi had to move away, to live on his own for the first time in his entire life.
But he wasn’t alone, not really, not with how often Jungkook ended up dropping by, a shy but mischievous grin, those large, large eyes Yoongi could never say no to, and soft words saying “hyung, I missed you, can’t we hang out for a bit?”
More often than not, ‘a bit’ would lead to Jungkook staying the night. And if it also led to Jungkook wrapping himself around Yoongi somewhere in between, a warm protective blanket against the rest of the world, it was only because — well. He was always an affectionate kid.
It had nothing to do with the nightmares Yoongi still wouldn’t tell him about. He would never spill those dark, nasty words. He didnt care that Jungkook knew on the peripheral how nasty the world was, and how his father was on top of it all, controlling everything not everything, not what happened to Yoongi that night like Seoul was his marionette. Jungkook didn’t know, couldn’t, never would — it would only go to his older brother anyway, the actual heir, and Jungkook was free to live a life he wanted, however he wanted, as the younger and adored child—
He wanted Yoongi.
The first time he asked Yoongi out on a date, freshly graduated from college himself, the two of them sharing Yoongi’s apartment so often the younger’s name should’ve been on the damn lease agreement as well at this point. And Yoongi gaped, staring disbelievingly at this kid —
No, maybe not a kid. Sometimes, Yoongi had to admit, lines got blurred, and he couldn’t tell who was older. Yoongi felt older when the younger was being a brat even as Yoongi begrudgingly paid for their lamb skewers all the same, nevermind that the Jeons were easily richer — Yoongi had a job, was making his own money for once, and meager as it was, it felt nice to be able to treat the kid instead — felt equal, the same shared spirit in their quiet silences, felt younger when the nightmares grew too intense, too hard to ignore, and things only seemed to be held at bay when he was in Jungkook’s arms, face covered in his chest.
And… it was a large chest. Large arms. Because Jungkook had grown, body more and more akin to that of a man than a child now. Yoongi couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t deny the fondness he’d always felt for the — not a kid, not anymore.
Couldn’t say no to Jungkook.
Even as his mind whispered nasty, terrible things at him, made him doubt and want to curl up in a ball and never have to exist again—
He said yes. A cautious smile, but a smile nonetheless. And let Jungkook whisk him away.
A quiet date, the usual barbecue near Yoongi’s — their apartment, the usual stroll alongside the Han river, the usual stars twinkling above them, the usual unease at being out past sunset, but the usual reassurance with Jungkook right by his side…
It was all the same. But everything was different.
For once, Jungkook paid, the barbecue finally seeing a Jeon’s money, the river didn’t even register in Yoongi’s mind, was it cloudy or clear, Yoongi didn’t see the stars in the skies, only ever seeing the ones in Jungkook’s eyes, and his mind was quiet, and Jungkook…
Jungkook was still by him, but this time, they held hands the entire time, fingers interlaced, palms and bodies warm.
It wasn’t always quiet, his mind, and the very next day Yoongi lashed out, pain, anger, hurt, and beyond all that, fear, loosening his tongue and confronting Jungkook, sweet patient Jungkook, with words he didn’t have to hear—
He didn’t say everything. But he said enough.
And Jungkook still stood there after it all, waiting for Yoongi to finish, before drawing him back in his arms, a soft and gentle hand cupping Yoongi’s face, making him meet Jungkook’s eyes through his own teary vision.
“I wish you were happier, hyung,” Jungkook whispered, careful careful words in the bubble between them. “But do you think that means I’d just leave you because of your depression? I’d rather have you happy, but I’d also rather have you even on the days you can’t take it, can’t smile, can’t talk. If I can’t cheer you up and make you forget, then I’d still want to be by your side, quiet and supporting you, talking and smiling for you until you can get up again,” he wiped away a tear from the corner of Yoongi’s eyes, smiling hopefully, smiling happily, smiling with so much affection in just as equally teary eyes. “Just like I’ve always been doing, just like I’ll always be doing. Right, hyung?”
And it was scary, it was frightening, it was terrifying, but Yoongi let himself hope, and let himself fall, and Jungkook was always there to catch him, staying by his side like he promised he would.
Until, one day, he wasn’t there. Not a text, not a call — not from him, but then, from Yoongi’s mother. And Yoongi rushed back to the Jeon’s mansion, the wealthy building that was his childhood home, but wasn’t, it was the people there that made it home, his own and even the Jeons.
But one of the Jeons wasn’t there anymore, never will be, and the rest were anguished, angered, and out getting vengeance.
His mother and Jungkook’s greeted him, tears in their eyes, and he could only hold them helplessly, asking, demanding where Jungkook was, will he never come back, he promised Yoongi—
A week later, Yoongi’s job was long forgotten, a text from Yijeong his only reassurance that his life out there was still there, if only on hold, for who knows how long…
Jungkook came home, no doubt notified, rushing straight to his bedroom, where Yoongi waited.
His face crumpled, and it was like their roles reversed.
“You’re here.”
“Where else would I be?”
Searching eyes, desperate, haunted. “My brother is dead.”
A broken hearted sigh, and Yoongi reached out his arms. “Come here, bun.”
And this time, it was Yoongi holding Jungkook close to his chest, on Jungkook’s bed instead of his own, their childhood house instead of their current apartment. And Jungkook breaking down, while Yoongi patiently waited, delicate hands carding through Jungkook’s hair, comforting, reassuring, supporting.
When Jungkook finally pushed himself back, he looked at Yoongi with those still searching eyes, looking for something Yoongi couldn’t figure out yet.
“My brother is dead, hyung.” But he didn’t cry this time, stoic in the way he clenched his jaw to hold back his emotions, and Yoongi nodded.
“I know.”
“You know what this means?”
His hands never stopped stroking, never stopped trying to soothe Jungkook.
Jungkook, who didn’t wait for a response, and pushed on. “We had to take care of it, hyung. And I’m the heir now. I had to do things… bad things. I-I had to kill people, hyung — I’ll have to keep killing people.”
Short and succinct, maybe a habit picked up from Yoongi, and like Jungkook learned to decipher every nuance of the few words spoken, so too did Yoongi understand.
He drew him back closer, Jungkook’s head resting on his chest, letting him hear Yoongi’s steady heartbeat.
“Remember what you said when we started dating?” A hum, no words before Yoongi pushed on. “You said you’d rather I be happy. But even if I wasn’t, you’d still rather be by my side than not at all.”
Jungkook pushed back again, not too far away, enough to only look at Yoongi, hardly daring to believe, but still already hoping, every emotion a clear beacon in his eyes to Yoongi.
“And I’ll say it too. I’d rather you be happy, doing whatever you wanted with your life, however you wish to live it. But just because you can’t… doesn’t mean I’ll leave you, bun.”
Years upon years ago, they made a promise. Now, they reaffirmed it once again.
They never broke it.