Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts” 

Psalms 105:2

Jungkook stares at his bathroom’s mirror, wet hair dripping down on the tiled floor before taking a deep breath and muttering to himself;

“I’m gay.”

He’s been doing that for the past few days, ever since he said those same words to Namjoon when they were lying inside their robes under the covers. It’s an exercise, in a way. Jungkook’s trying to say the words without bursting into tears. He watches as water gathers around his eyes and blinks the saltiness away, sighing as he shakes his head, feeling stupid some more. What benefit is there to admitting a truth buried so deep inside for over two decades if he can’t say it without fucking crying afterwards?

Namjoon held him, the first time. When Jungkook said it and started sobbing right after. He fitted Jungkook inside his arms and told him it was okay, that he was proud of him, that he was there for him, and he would never leave his side, unless Jungkook told him to. And in the midst of his pathetic tears, Jungkook held onto him harder, and thought, rather than said, I’ll never let you go. 

Before leaving the bathroom, Jungkook wraps a towel around his waist and gathers himself, leaving only a little bit of swelling under his eyes as evidence he had been crying. He goes straight to his room to put on a few layers of clothes and join his friends in the living room as they watch straight Christmas movies (Jimin’s own words) and prepare to eat pizza and drink soju to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Apparently, that’s what they did the year before, just after they left the congregation. It felt liberating, Taehyung said, but Jungkook was, of course, not forced to feel the same way.

“If you want to do something else, just tell us,” his friend had stated the night before. “Or if you wanna do nothing, tell us, too. We know tomorrow will be hard for you.”

Jungkook thinks hard doesn’t even attempt to begin to cover what being where he’s at right now, both physically and emotionally, on Christmas Day is doing to him. He’s been in an obvious sour mood since encountering (or, better, almost encountering) his abeoji at the restaurant a few days ago, and combining that with everything he was supposed to be doing today instead of staring at himself in a mirror and trying not to cry as he proclaims a sexuality he’s been oppressing for all of his life… Yeah, the word hard doesn’t come close to expressing how he feels. 

Truth is, Jungkook doesn’t feel like drinking soju and eating pizza while watching bad straight Christmas movies. There’s a sadness within him, a loss, a grief even, that he hoped Jimin and Taehyung would relate to or perhaps simply understand, but he can hear their giggles from the living room, and it doesn’t seem like they do. His friends appear to be perfectly happy to celebrate Christmas in their own way, out of the church that suppressed them, and Jungkook understands, he does, but… He feels a little bad for not relating, at least not entirely.

After putting on his cross, two shirts and a sweater, Jungkook’s phone buzzes on the bed and he can’t help the tiny smile that spreads on his face, the way his heart races and his stomach feels a bit funny. He doesn’t know how long this feeling will last upon the simple and ordinary receiving of a message from one Kim Namjoon, but he likes it. It’s something better than the sorrow of losing a part of him that he not only grew accustomed to, but he actually liked. 

you up? i wanna go on a little road trip, but i need you to drive us, little one.

Jungkook frowns. Road trip, on Christmas Day? It’s not snowing, but it could suddenly start to, and they would be trapped and probably die. 

we’re not gonna die, it’s not gonna snow, Namjoon texts before Jungkook even says anything. and it’s not too far from here. a little over an hour. if we leave now, we’ll be there before midday!

Are you reading my mind, Namjoon-ssi? He types back. Where do you wanna go? I know you left Christianity (partially) a long time ago, but I do hope you remember what Christmas is…

Namjoon types back fast, as always.

just pack a bag; a change of clothes, underwear, your favorite blanket… the rest i’ve got covered :D

Very difficult words to believe…

no, theyre not, just please!!!! trust me!

I trust you

then, pack a bag ;) i’ll be here waiting for you to pick me up… i should learn how to drive >.<

Jungkook hears more giggling from the living room and takes a breath, curiosity spreading through his limbs like wildfire. He could ask Namjoon where he wants them drive to, but he knows the older man won’t say, not through text, at least, so he does as he’s been told; he packs a bag with all the items Namjoon suggested. After putting on a beanie and gloves, Jungkook goes to the living room and relays the news to his friends, who all but simply nod and smile. 

“Do you know something that I don’t?”

“Yes,” Jimin replies honestly. “But you’ll find out in less than two hours, so don’t get anxious about that.”

“And have fun!” Taehyung adds before frowning. “Or… whatever you wanna do.”

Jungkook puffs out a breath.

“Great. Thanks. Bye.”

“Bye, sweetheart!”

When he gets to his car, Jungkook tastes the sour on his tongue. Yes, he’s curious, but today’s a hard day. He has no idea what kind of plans Namjoon has in store, but he doesn’t know if he’s up for anything. If he’s truly honest with himself, all Jungkook wants to do is crawl on his bed under the covers and cry. As he drives to Namjoon’s house, his mind can’t help but think of times passed, when he would play for the choir during Christmas Mass, and when he would look at the cross, join his hands together, and pray to God. Celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Ask for health and peace for the next year. It is what’s normal for him, has been normal his whole life, and he hates that he misses it. He hates how affected he feels by it because there’s nothing to be done about it. 

He’s not welcomed at church anymore. Jungkook’s impure. Lost. Has strayed away. And even if he were told nobody would cast him out, he still wouldn’t be able to go. Because he’s gay. He’s gay. 

“I’m gay,” Jungkook whispers, eyes on the road. He blinks and a tear falls down. 

Fuck, why can’t he just say it like a normal person and be well? Jungkook takes a deep breath, heart settling down as he turns on Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi’s street, already seeing the house from afar. He stops the car in front of it, but neither parks or turns off the engine. 

I’m here, hyung, he texts Namjoon and in less than a minute, the front door is being kicked open and there Kim Namjoon is, dressed in a puffy maroon jacket with several items in his gloved hands.

“What the ever loving–” Jungkook blurts out, opening the car door and rushing toward him, taking one suitcase and a basket in hand. “Namjoon, what’s all of this? Are we going away for a week?”

“It’s cold,” Namjoon explains as he runs back inside the house to apparently grab more things. “We need a lot of shit not to die of hypothermia where we’re going, little one.”

Jungkook blinks as he watches Namjoon bring out two more bags and a fucking portable heater. 

“Namjoon, where are you planning to take me?”

“Now, if I told you, it would ruin a surprise I worked really hard on for the past…” He stops talking, but continues to walk toward Jungkook’s car. Namjoon puts everything on the floor to open the back door. Then, he starts loading all of it into the backseat. “For the past two weeks, little one.”

“Two weeks?” Jungkook repeats as he takes the bag and the basket in his hand to the car. “You’ve been planning a road trip for us on Christmas Day for two weeks? Why?”

Namjoon looks back, blinking at him as his long brown hair waves against the wind. “Because way back in October you expressed how much Christmas means to you, and ever since we came back from Hobi’s town, you’ve been down and I know it’s not just because of your abeoji.”

“No, it’s not,” Jungkook admits. He fixes the beanie over his head even though there’s nothing to fix. “I know I can just… celebrate in another way, but my heart is so heavy. I feel so lost. I– It hurts me that I can’t go to church for Christmas Mass.”

“I know and I wanna lessen that hurt to the best of my abilities.” 

After taking a beat to process the words, Jungkook shakes his head, hugging himself. His cheeks are burning and his heart is racing and his mind is falling all over the place. 

“I don’t think you can do that, hyung. It’s just— something I have to deal with.” Jungkook gulps. “Hopefully not for the rest of my life, but for now.”

“I know.” Namjoon steps closer to him, traveling his hands over Jungkook’s arms in order to either warm him up or comfort him. Probably both. “But I had an idea that I thought might help, and if it doesn’t, well, we can always drive back home singing our hearts out to Mariah Carey.”

“Mariah Carey?”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “You don’t know who Mariah Carey is?”

“Of course I know who Mariah Carey is,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, a small smile on his lips. “I was repressed, not unknowledgeable. Jimin put her records on all the time growing up. A lot of Mariah, Girls Generation, Wonder Girls, Beyoncé…” 

“Oh, Girls Generation?” Namjoon exclaims. “I kind of need you to sing I Got a Boy for me now.”

“Never gonna happen.” Jungkook looks back at the house and the completely open entrance door. “Is Yoongi home?”

“No. He went to spend Christmas with Hoseok… I was invited as well, but politely declined.”

Jungkook looks back at him. “Are they official?”

“They’re just friends,” Namjoon breathes out, scratching the back of his neck. “Stay here, there’s one more thing I need to grab and then we’re good to go.”

Jungkook stands there, in the cold, next to his car, for approximately 50 seconds before Namjoon re-emerges from the front door and locks it in behind him this time. 

In his hands, there’s another portable heater. 

Namjoon gives him all the directions, and, ultimately, they end up on a highway. 

“Just go forward now,” the older man instructs. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Jungkook grips the wheel tighter. “Are you seriously not gonna tell me where we’re going?” 

“It’s a surprise, Jungkook-ah.” Namjoon runs his hands over his thighs. “But do be honest with me if you end up hating it…”

“Why would I hate it?” The younger man presses, gazing at him briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. “You’re not taking me camping, are you? I didn’t see a tent between the five hundred things you unloaded in my car.”

Namjoon chuckles, “No, I’m not taking you camping in 3 degrees weather, little one. But the place I’m taking you does lack electricity and could turn quite cold without the heaters, so that’s why I brought them.” 

“If I get a migraine because of how hard I’m trying to guess right now, I’m blaming you.”

“Relax,” Namjoon hums, hands on Jungkook’s thigh. “We’re almost there.”

Pressing his lips together, Jungkook chooses not to inquire any longer. The touch is comforting, and it helps settle his ever-growing nerves. They have been driving for almost an hour now, so they are, in fact, almost there, according to Namjoon’s own words from earlier.

Wherever there is.

After a few minutes in silence, Namjoon clears his throat and pulls his hand off Jungkook’s thigh, trying to turn his body toward Jungkook despite how tight the space is for him. 

“So, when I was 14, a few months before my parents kicked me out, I ran away from home. I hitchhiked my way out of town with the intention of going away forever, which is funny considering my parents felt the same way about the subject,” Namjoon says in a sarcastic tone. Jungkook catches a bit of sourness in the sound of his voice as it reaches his ears. “The guy who picked me up was a bit weird, so I just– asked him to drop me off here, in the middle of nowhere.”

Jungkook frowns, glancing at him again. “Was it cold, hot? Oh my God, Joon, this is so dangerous.”

“You’ve been calling me Joon a lot lately.”

“You don’t like it?” 

“Please, keep calling me that.” 

Jungkook smiles a little. “Okay.”

“And it was almost 15 years ago, so as dangerous as it was, I’m fine.” Namjoon takes a breath. “Point is, I walked for an hour or so, with my backpack sliding off one of my shoulders, and it was spring, so not too hot nor too cold. I ended up finding this place, which, at the time, felt hilarious to me.”

“What place?”

“The place we’re driving to,” Namjoon continues, pointing forward. “We must be five minutes away.”

“Five minutes of torture.”

“I just want you to see it instead of me telling you about it.” 

Jungkook sighs heavily and continues to drive, a deep frown between his eyebrows. Namjoon runs his finger over it to try to ease the lines, but all it does is get Jungkook to pout, which, in turn, makes Namjoon giggle prettily, so, finally, the lines on Jungkook’s forehead and around his lips ease themselves. 

He just can’t understand where, exactly, they are going; there’s nothing but trees around them. They are between cities, traveling through a highway that leads to somewhere else, surely, but not in five minutes. There’s nothing five minutes from where they are, unless it’s an abandoned house or something.

“Are you taking me to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere?” Jungkook asks. “Isn’t this how horror movies start?”

“How many horror movies have you seen?”

“Taehyung made me see The Wailing the other day…” Jungkook shakes his head, trembling a bit. “I saw The Grudge a few years ago.”

Namjoon clicks his tongue, “You’re very hardcore.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m not– and we’re here, look, right up there, to the right!”

Jungkook does as he’s told and looks, heart racing immediately. He drives closer and closer and parks right in front of it, eyes glued to the tiny construction with faded white walls and a decaying cross centered at the very top. 

“You were partially correct about it being abandoned,” Namjoon mutters slowly, eyes on Jungkook instead of the tiny chapel. “It’s been abandoned ever since I came here for the first time. I remembered it just a few weeks ago, and the more depressed you looked about Christmas, the more I thought about it.” 

Jungkook doesn’t really reply, just sort of hums.

“If you wanna leave, we can leave,” Namjoon says kindly. “I thought you might find some comfort here, but if you wanna go, we can just circle back listening to Mariah Carey’s discography. Just– Like I said, I wanted you to see it for yourself.”

“Let’s go in,” Jungkook spills out less than a second after Namjoon’s done talking, and he does so more automatically than sincerely. He isn’t sure of what he feels, and is a bit unsure if he should attempt to fully access his emotions. Opening the car door, Jungkook slips out of the vehicle, cold wind hitting his cheeks immediately as he walks toward the chapel with his eyes on the cross, breath becoming uneven. “Can you hold my hand, Namjoon-ah?”

And, in a second, Namjoon’s gloved up hand is on his. It doesn’t feel as good as when their skins touch, but it is still comforting, reassuring. Jungkook holds on as tightly as he can and together they walk over the dead leaves on the ground to the entrance door. Namjoon cracks it open like it’s his own home, and Jungkook doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it was definitely not this.

“I’ll turn on the heaters real quick, little one.”

There’s a portable heater in each corner of the small space, and Christmas lights prompted up on the walls and above the shut tight glass windows. The pews are few, broken and pushed to the side to make more room for Christmas themed cushions and blankets right under the small altar. 

Jungkook’s lips part in a gasp.

“Namjoon-ah, you– you came here beforehand?”

“Yes, I needed to make sure it was still here and, of course, clean the place up in case you decided to stay. I thought the Christmas lights would be a nice touch since I’m afraid of candles and having flashlights on would just look– well, ugly.” 

“You’re afraid of candles?”

“You’re not?” Namjoon asks as he turns on the second heater. “There’s plenty of wood all around us. Accidents can happen! And before you ask, no, I did not bike here. Tae drove me over yesterday morning. He helped.”

“I thought he went out to buy last minute Christmas presents.” Jungkook frowns. “He even came back with a few packages.”

“Yeah, that was a ruse. I enrolled your friends in my idea a week or so ago.”

“Of course you did…” He breathes out, shaking his head in disbelief. “And if I decided not to stay?”

“I’d come here tomorrow or the day after to grab my stuff,” Namjoon replies. “It’d be no problem.”

Jungkook spins around to stare at him. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe, yes.”

Jungkook’s eyes circle back to the altar; to the puddle of red, white and green cushions that Namjoon prepared for them right under the altar, which is the only object surviving the chapel’s abandonment apart from the crucifix centered on the back wall, the gold faded for lack of cleaning or just the passage of time. Cheeks suddenly burning, Jungkook looks away from the image of Jesus Christ.

“Why would they abandon this place?” 

“Too in the middle of nowhere?” Namjoon suggests as he turns on the last of the four heaters. “So, each should last us 10 hours, but I just wanted you to have a moment, if you so wish, and for us to have a moment, if you so wish. We can leave whenever you want.”

He stops right in front of Jungkook and places his hands on each of his arms.

“Once, not too long ago, you asked me to hold your faith for you. If you want me to keep doing it, we can leave now. But I know you, and I know you’re hurting, and maybe you’d like to talk to Him instead of a bunch of people who do not understand.” 

“I don’t know how to talk to Him anymore,” Jungkook whispers. “I don’t know if He’s listening any longer.”

“Of course He is, little one,” Namjoon whispers back, taking one of his hands to Jungkook’s cheek. “He’s never abandoned you.”

Instead of replying to that or try to absorb the words, Jungkook leans into the hand on his cheek.

“I still can’t believe you did all of this, I mean, the lights? How are we gonna turn them on?”

“I also brought a portable battery pack.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely crazy.” 

Namjoon chuckles for only a moment before frowning.

“Be honest with me; are you upset?”

“No,” Jungkook replies, and the sincerity of the word comes as a surprise even to himself. He pulls air into his lungs, eyes going from Namjoon to the crucifix. “I hadn’t looked at one of these in a very, very long time.” 

“What does it make you feel?” 

Jungkook exhales a shaky breath. “Everything.”

“Would it be worse if you felt nothing?” 

“I don’t know.” Jungkook looks back at him. “But we can stay a little while to try to figure it out.”

“Are you sure?” The words come barely above a whisper. “We don’t have to stay.”

“I want to stay.” 

Namjoon gulps, nodding. “Alright, then. Let’s grab the rest of the stuff in the car.” 

Being inside a temple of God after so long, after everything, makes Jungkook feel weird. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but still somehow strange. 

Namjoon has brought food, saying he made it himself with Yoongi’s assistance. Unsurprisingly, his roommate didn’t ask why Namjoon wanted to make sweet potatoes, kimchi and tteokguk. He just got onto his two feet and helped. Namjoon claims Yoongi has never been one to ask questions, but he’s way quieter since Seoul. 

They are sitting on the floor, over the green duvet Namjoon adorned with Christmas themed cushions, legs crossed and eyes on the Crucifix on the wall. It’s gotten warm enough for them to take off their boots, socks and gloves, so now that Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s skin on his, he’s calmer, more centered. With the Christmas lights on, the abandoned chapel looks almost magical. 

He can smell the food, too, and he has half a mind to tell Namjoon he much rather be eating than attempting to talk to God, but that’s the cowardly way out. Namjoon wouldn’t agree with this thought if Jungkook were to speak it out loud, however, so he keeps the cowardness to himself.

“What–” Namjoon starts, stopping himself for a beat. “What would you be doing now?”

His question doesn’t need to be more specific than that. It is Christmas, after all.

“I’d probably be getting ready for another mass. We have four on December 25th. The final one, it’s uh, it’s the most important. It’s when the choir sings, and most of the congregation is present. So, I guess I would be in my cassock, assisting. And later, I would take out my guitar and play.” 

“Was it fun?” 

“Very fun,” Jungkook breathes out. “Uh, during Christmas Eve I worked all day, it was always so busy at the store, and when I’d wake up on the 25th, I would be very tired, but it all felt rewarded during the masses, especially the last one. I’ve always enjoyed Christmas hymns.”

Namjoon hums, caressing the back of his hand with his thumb. It feels soothing even now when there’s something stuck in Jungkook’s throat.

“You have been going through so much change,” Namjoon mutters, a slight frown between his beautiful eyes. “So much has been lost, I’m so sorry about that.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Namjoon leans down to kiss his knuckles. 

“When you prayed, what did you pray for?”

The question catches Jungkook a bit by surprise. It doesn’t take more than that to make his eyes sting, and it is followed by the inevitable shake of his head and the gaze he pulls away from the man in front of him. Namjoon’s thumb continues to caress his skin as he allows the question to settle itself and for Jungkook to decide if he wants to answer it.

“What do people normally pray for?” Jungkook whispers after a minute or so, eyes on their joint hands. “Peace, prosperity, guidance. It all felt so clear to me until it didn’t. Until– until I met you. I used to pray, then I started to beg. I remember when I confessed to God that I wanted you, I thought he would save me, somehow. I had been good, so in my mind it wasn’t fair. I prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and… Nothing.”

“Because you didn’t need to be saved from wanting me, Jungkook-ah.” 

“I know, I know,” he quickly replies, taking a deep breath. “But you see, this is what I was taught. To be good, to be perfect, even, and to never stray away from the word. So, every day until I left, I prayed. I was good. I asked for peace, prosperity and guidance. And in my heart, I felt guided and supported. It was all a lie.”

“I don’t think it was all a lie.”

Jungkook frowns, holding his hand tighter. “How so?”

“I believe in a non-punitive God. I believe in talking to him, sharing and unburdening my sorrows, and I don’t expect that to bring me eternal salvation, and I’m not asking for one, either. If you believe in the same God, then, his guidance and support in your most difficult moments, no matter what they look like, cannot be a lie.” 

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally do, and Jungkook pulls away from Namjoon’s touch to clear them off his cheeks. He feels his skin tingling, his throat squeezing. It is a bit suffocating; being here, talking about this, but he isn’t about to stand up and walk away. He’s done that enough. Jungkook’s tired of running from what’s hard to face. He’s exhausted, really, so he won’t. Not this time, not anymore.

“God is, to me, a friend,” Namjoon continues, taking both of Jungkook’s hands this time. “I’m not afraid of him and except for an ear to listen to and maybe some metaphor to guide me, I don’t expect anything from him. I don’t pray to apologize for my sins, or to make up for them, and I certainly don’t pray for a special place in His Kingdom.”

“I didn’t know you prayed.”

Namjoon huffs out a smile. “I don’t, normally. Only when I’m feeling too overwhelmed.”

“I’m feeling very overwhelmed,” Jungkook confesses. “I don’t even really remember the last time I prayed.” 

“Do you wanna pray right now?”

“I don’t know what I would pray for,” he admits and it’s all about that, isn’t it? That’s what’s so hard to make sense of. “I built a wall between me and everything I used to know, and, at first, I prayed, still. I held on to it as hard as I could, but it became so difficult to understand, to relate. I am who I am, and I don’t wanna feel guilty about that anymore, Namjoon-ah, so how do I have both? I hear what you’re saying, it’s just so hard.”

“Your faith and the church, religion in itself, don’t have to mean the same thing,” Namjoon repeats the words he told Jungkook more than once before, but it feels like the first time he actually lets them pierce through him, and it hurts a bit, sure, but it also makes it easier to breathe. “Let your faith be love and not punishment, little one.”

“Is it that simple?” 

“No, but at the same time, somehow, yes, Jungkook-ah, yes, it is.”

Jungkook’s eyes fly from Namjoon to the crucifix. Taking one slow breath at a time, heart hammering against his ribcage, Jungkook thinks of times past, when he would clamp his hands together, close his eyes and proclaim Dear Heavenly Father before every prayer. He thinks of when anxiety would pulse under his skin, fear exhaling from his pores, and he would ask for forgiveness for his sins right before a confession. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. What sins? So small, they were. Insignificant. And when they became bigger, harder to control, what did he do? Jungkook begged. For light, for guidance, for his own thoughts to be banished from his mind. 

And in that begging he found a desperation he hadn’t previously known, a fear he hadn’t yet experienced quite so powerful. A fright of God’s Wrath, of hell, of shame, of abandonment. Yet, all he has found, all he’s been showered with, lived with and been touched by since the day he had to walk away, was the absolute opposite of that. 

In all his terror, all of his resistance, all of his pathetic attempts to hold onto things that no longer make sense, Jungkook has been met with open arms full of love and understanding. And these arms, often faithless, often from people who don’t have a God of their own, have helped him not to fall, not to turn around and run right back to where he came from. The further Jungkook strays away from The Word, the more he feels like himself, the more he feels like the person he’s always meant to be. So, in this new life, between these new layers of personality and self-enlightenment he’s come to know, where does God fit? 

Does He fit in at all? 

Jungkook exhales a shaky breath, closing his eyes. 

“I don’t know what to say to You,” he starts, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t remember the last time I reached out, but I still wear my favorite cross, Father, and the gold around my neck doesn’t burn like I feared it would for so long. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of silly of me to believe a symbol of Christ’s love and sacrifice could burn my skin simply for being who I am, and- liking who I like.”

What does the cross represent to you? Namjoon asked him that first night at the convenience store. Your unwavering love for the Almighty, your dedication to him?

“Wearing the cross keeps me grounded,” Jungkook says now, like he said then. Oh what? Namjoon had asked. On God, Jungkook had replied. “It keeps me grounded on the things I believe in, even when they are ever changing. It keeps me grounded in myself and my convictions, and everything good I learned from You. It helps me remember the positive instead of everything that makes me suffocate. Namjoon helps me, too, to stay grounded. As do all my friends. These bonds that I have cultivated over the past half a year are very important to me, Lord, so I’ll pray that You keep them all safe and happy.”

Namjoon rests his hand on Jungkook’s knee, caressing him over the denim of his jeans. His touches are one of the most important pillars of what keeps Jungkook grounded and he doesn’t think he needs to say it aloud for Namjoon to know that. 

“Last week, I saw my abeoji for the first time in months, and it hurt me so deeply I thought I was going to drown,” Jungkook continues, frowning lightly. “But I didn’t. I didn’t drown, and instead, I finally accepted a truth I had buried so deep inside I never thought I’d become brave enough to unearth it. I’m so full of emotions all the time, Lord, so full of feeling that it often just bursts out of me. I can’t keep it in like I used to, and truthfully, I don’t want to. I like feeling things. Even if they hurt, I like that I can feel them. Does that make sense?”

Jungkook inhales another breath, closing his eyes. 

“For almost 25 years I kept myself hidden away, Father. Shoved inside tiny boxes that made it impossible for me to move, let alone breathe. And every time something cracked one of those boxes, I shrunk myself even more just so I could stay inside. It was slowly killing me, Father, even when I didn’t know it yet. And then You decided to help me. You brought him into my tiny box, Father, and the more I tried to shrink myself to fit inside, the more that tiny box cracked open.”

The metaphor doesn’t conjure itself up in Jungkook’s head like so many before this one did. His mind is clear, and because of that, Jungkook can focus on Namjoon’s touch and the words flying out of his own mouth like a confession he didn’t know he was about to make. 

“For the longest time I let voices hiss in my ear and I gave it names, reasons and pitchforks so they could try to hold me back from finding myself, from setting who I truly am free from those boxes. I created those voices, not You, not the Devil. I was my own personal prison, and the voices were my mind’s painful yet weak attempts to keep me tamed.” Jungkook blinks his eyes open, focusing them on Namjoon and his attentive expression, absorbing every single word Jungkook speaks. “When I asked You to guide me and help me, You kept leading this man to me. I thought that meant the Devil was tempting me with sin, but that wasn’t it. How could it be, Lord? Sin could never be this beautiful.”

Namjoon chuckles, lips pulling at the side to form a shy dimpled smile. 

“That day at the lake, when I asked for a sign and Namjoon showed up, I should’ve seen what You were trying to tell me, Lord. It was actually quite obvious.”

Please, show me a path that won’t lead me away from home, Jungkook had asked right before Namjoon appeared. 

“I wasn’t home before,” Jungkook whispers, more to Namjoon than to God now. “I was shrinking myself to fit in and now I’m not. Some people call it fate, but I like to call it destiny. Fate implies that things couldn’t have been different, no matter what choices were made. Destiny is a choice we make. And although I didn’t choose to be who I am, I have chosen to set myself free.”

Jungkook breathes out, a smile playing on his lips.

“Like I chose to kiss you in the lake that day, or like I chose to ask you to kiss me in that bathroom. Like I chose to grow my hair long, and to not go back to my parents’. Or like I chose to get a job at a dance studio, and start drinking alcohol.” Inside his chest, Jungkook’s heartbeat paces steadily. “I’ve made more choices in the past six months than in the past 25 years, and although I’m still scared sometimes, I would never trade the person I have come to know as myself for that frightened little boy trapped inside boxes other people made that I believed was me. That wasn’t me, Namjoon. Not really, not fully.”

“I know, little one.”

“For those reasons, I think my faith and I still have a long way to go.” Jungkook looks back at the crucifix. “I hope You are proud of the person I am becoming because I like him very much. Much more than I ever liked the boy inside the box.”

He lets out a deep, shaky breath, but not out of anxiety. It takes Jungkook only a few seconds to fish for the feeling that is warming up his chest. Relief. 

“Happy Christmas,” he mutters. “It feels good to talk to Thee again.”

Jungkook lets his final words settle for a moment before looking back at Namjoon.

“This was beautiful, Jungkook-ah,” the older man coos with a smile big enough to turn the chapel warmer than it already is. He leans forward to press a kiss to Jungkook’s cheek. “I’m so goddamn proud of you.”

“It wasn’t as hard as I feared it to be,” Jungkook tells him, frowning as he smiles. “I actually feel better.”

“You’re so fucking cool, little one.”

“Cursing not once but two times inside a chapel, Joon-ah?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “You’re such a rebel.”

“Eleven months ago you’d have gone all wide-eyed and blushed cheeks over that…”

Jungkook doesn’t really think before he leans forward and presses his lips against Namjoon’s for the briefest and yet most satisfying of seconds. The older man seems only half surprised by that. 

“A lot of things can change in a year, hyung.”

“Tell me about it.” Namjoon caresses his cheek. “Do you want to eat?”

“I think I have a high chance of getting grumpy if I don’t eat right now, actually…”

Namjoon chuckles airly. “Well, as you know, I’ve come prepared, and you know what else?”

“What?”

Not a single word out of his mouth later, Namjoon’s moving away from him and leaning over the food basket. After a few seconds, he pulls out a bottle of red wine and a screw. 

“It is Christmas, after all,” Namjoon clicks his tongue, winking at him. “I even wrapped up two wine glasses, they’re in my bag.”

“Jesus Chr- is there anything you didn’t think of?”

Namjoon stops to ponder for two seconds before shrugging.

“No, not really. I’m prepared for everything.” He starts unscrewing the cork. “I’m a Virgo.”

“So am I.”

“Then, you must be prepared for everything, too.”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip, watching Namjoon’s hands as they pop the bottle open with ease. 

“I think I am.”

“Good to know, little one.” Namjoon smells the wine, sighing. “Ah, delicious. Can you get the glasses for me?”

“Sure!”

And as they drink and eat Namjoon’s surprisingly delicious food, Jungkook sneaks a hand against his heart from time to time just to make sure it’s beating as slow and steady as he wants it to. 

In the drive back to town, Namjoon puts on Mariah Carey and looks expectantly at Jungkook, who just snorts out a laugh and shakes his head, claiming he doesn’t sing. 

“We both know that is not true,” Namjoon exclaims. “You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard, you can’t keep hiding it! It’s honestly a lifeline for me.”

“You only heard it once…”

“And I’m dying because of that, I only have another five minutes to live.”

Jungkook laughs a bit harder. 

“I’m serious,” Namjoon insists. “I’ll be dead before we get into town and you’ll have to notify all of our friends about my sudden passing and you’ll have to explain to them you could’ve saved me with your angel voice and you chose not to!”

“Were you always this dramatic?”

“I showed up to Sunday Mass in a see-through shirt.”

Jungkook doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or take a deep breath, the memory of their encounter in the church’s bathroom seeming much more sexually charged than he thought it was at the time. 

“The speed in which I turned around was ridiculous,” he says with a click of his tongue. “And when I saw you shirtless at the lake, what straight man looks that hard at another man’s chest? I should’ve known right then that I was gay.”

Mariah Carey’s voice becomes the only sound in the tiny car. Jungkook turns his eyes to the passenger seat to find Namjoon’s lips stretched in a sweet smile, eyes shining. It takes him looking back at the road to realize it; the words he spoke in mid conversation, so freely, so openly, like it was more an afterthought than something he’s been overthinking for all of his life. Fuck, something he was overthinking mere hours ago. 

“I’m gay,” Jungkook repeats, pressing his foot on the accelerator just enough to get them from 70 to 95. The song changes and the familiar sounds of All I Want For Christmas Is You fill the vehicle. Jungkook’s chuckles echo alongside the chords. “Namjoon-ah, I’m gay!”

Namjoon claps his hands and shouts woohoo! which is both hilarious and pathetic and Jungkook cannot stop laughing. He wishes he could have the wind blowing in his hair right now, but it’s too cold for that; it’s December, it’s Christmas, Mariah Carey is singing and he is gay! Fuck, he is gay.

“I just want you for my own,” he sings, swinging his head and moving his thumbs on the steering wheel. “More than you could ever know.”

“Make my wish come true…”

“All I want for Christmas is you,” Jungkook and Namjoon sing together. “You, baby.”

Namjoon puts a hand on Jungkook’s nape and lightly massages it, laughing and singing along to the rest of the song. Jungkook’s never felt more inside a movie than he does as they speed through the empty road. All the tears he’s shed before seem to suddenly have been enough. At least for now, at least for this very moment, as he and Namjoon sing Christmas songs together, the past tears seem to have been finally enough. 

“Want to sleep over at mine tonight, baby?” 

Jungkook licks over his bottom lip, nodding. He’s never slept at Namjoon’s place. Well. That is not true. He did sleep in Namjoon’s bed once before. After the fundraiser, reading some book he can’t remember the title of. Waking up to Namjoon lying right next to him. 

It had been so shocking, so overwhelming. 

“There’s nothing I would like more than to sleep in your bed tonight,” he mutters, catching as Namjoon opens up a soft smile with the corner of his vision. “Can we put the Christmas lights up in your room?”

“Of course, little one. It’s going to look so pretty.”

Jungkook grins openly, the warmth in his chest spreading to the rest of his limbs. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed, so at peace. Can’t fish it out of his mind. Maybe because it never happened before, not like this. 

When he parks in front of Namjoon’s house, the two of them laugh as they grab all the bags, heaters and cushions Namjoon had brought to the chapel. Jungkook’s still amazed at the sheer amount of dedication to his Christmas Day project, and keeps saying how much he’s grateful to Namjoon for being insane. It takes the two of them three trips inside the house each to get all the things from the car to the living room. 

As soon as the front door is closed, Jungkook shoves his boots off feet and his gloves off his hands. He clasps his palms together so they warm up faster, and only a second later, Namjoon’s hands are on his hips and his lips are pressing against Jungkook’s. He doesn’t think it is meant to be a deep kiss, but it doesn’t surprise him when it turns into one.

Jungkook’s tongue rolls inside Namjoon’s mouth and his hands fly to the older man’s hair. Like a puzzle fitting together, the two of them, so easy to fall into place like this. The silent room turns heavy quickly; their breathing, their wet lips, the frantic movements to get to the nearest wall. There’s so much clothing between them. Jungkook wishes there weren’t. Nothing warms him up better than Namjoon’s skin. 

“Should we take these off?” He wonders, pulling at Namjoon’s jacket’s zipper. “We’re wearing three layers each.”

“I hate that we’re wearing so many layers,” Namjoon replies, shoving his jacket off himself and moving his hands over Jungkook’s own zipper. “The heater is on, we don’t need layers.” 

Jungkook chuckles at how quick Namjoon is to fight off his zipper and win. He keeps laughing as Namjoon shoves his jacket off and moves on to pulling at the hem of his jumper. 

“You want me naked, Kim Namjoon?”

“I just want to feel your skin.” 

“I’m glad we are on the same page.”

Namjoon’s lips are on his again. Jungkook gasps into the kiss, melting in the space between the wall and the other man’s body. His mind heats up at the same speed as his body, and the urgency in which they undress would get Jungkook too into his head, if he still gave a damn. 

There’s something tingling on the tip of Jungkook’s fingers as they connect with the warmth of Namjoon’s chest once they have stripped each other from the waist up. It’s almost as if touching him isn’t enough to satiate Jungkook’s need to be close. He breaks the kiss to embrace Namjoon, fitting his nose in the conjecture of the older man’s neck and breathing him in. The smell of sandalwood fills Jungkook’s nostrils and he sighs in contentment. Namjoon’s hands, lost between Jungkook’s naked back and his wavy hair, hold him tighter. 

“I love holding you,” Namjoon whispers. “Your skin is so soft, you smell so good.”

When he runs his fingers over the small of Jungkook’s back, the younger man shudders, body lighting up at the touch. He understands Namjoon completely. He, too, loves holding him. His soft skin, the smell of his perfume. His natural scent. It all draws Jungkook in, so powerfully it’s almost disorienting. Here he is, in Jungkook’s arms, and it’s still, somehow, not enough. Jungkook wants to be closer, he needs to be closer. 

“I want you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself,” Jungkook mouths against his neck. He drops a wet kiss on the skin and Namjoon gasps. “Have you ever-”

“No,” Namjoon pants even before Jungkook has finished his sentence. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you, baby.”

Jungkook pulls his head up and connects their lips again. It’s slow and maddening this time. Jungkook’s favorite type of kiss. He loves when Namjoon’s tongue rolls inside his mouth unhurriedly, breathing softly against Jungkook’s face as he moves their heads to whatever side he wants, choosing the pace and the depth in which they should go. He loves to let himself be kissed, explored. Loves to hear Namjoon’s soft gasps and tiny moans, loves the inevitable bulge that presses against his own; a satisfactory reminder that, no matter how many times the older man has done this before, Jungkook can still make him feel the same way his much more inexperienced self feels; desperately horny. 

He pulls away from the kiss, smiling as Namjoon chases after his wet lips. 

“Hyung, we need to put the Christmas lights up in your bedroom.” 

Namjoon hums, dropping his head to Jungkook’s neck and kissing the sensitive skin. The younger man’s fingers find themselves intertwined in the soft locks of Namjoon’s dark brown hair, eyes fluttering close, skin tingling at the touch. 

“I’m serious, Joon-ah,” he mumbles, a soft gasp escaping through his open lips. “I want tonight to be perfect.”

“It’s already perfect, baby.”

“I want us to have sex,” Jungkook says, ever so softly. He doesn’t really let his brain catch up to the words before they are out of his mouth, but he doesn’t regret saying them. Not a bit, not at all. “I really, really want to have sex with you, Namjoon. Full on sex. All the way.” 

Namjoon had frozen against his neck the second the word sex was thrown into the air, but it takes him a few seconds to finally lift his head up and look him in the eyes. Burning so bright, shining so beautifully. 

“Are you sure?” 

Jungkook nods, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Namjoon leans forward and presses their lips together. It’s tame, soft, and warm. When he pulls back, the older man takes his hand to Jungkook’s cheek and caresses the skin. Leaning against his palm, Jungkook can feel the heat on his cheeks and his neck. He looks away from Namjoon’s face, chuckling to himself and all his shyness.

“God, I’m so pathetic…”

“Hey, baby, look at me,” Namjoon asks, voice dripping with warmth. Jungkook pouts, eyes on the cross tattooed in between Namjoon’s firm breasts, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, the sight only gets his cheeks to burn harder. “I love how cute you look when you’re shy.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Look at me.” 

Jungkook whines a bit, but lifts his eyes back up to meet Namjoon’s dimpled smile. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” 

“You think so?” 

Namjoon’s eyes travel all over Jungkook’s face, down to his naked chest and arms. It’s disarming, but he doesn’t want Namjoon to stop looking because there’s just so much want in his eyes. It knocks Jungkook’s breath away and makes his cock twitch. 

“The most beautiful man in the world,” Namjoon mutters, fitting his hands around Jungkook’s tiny waist. He brings their bodies together again, chest to chest, eyes on eyes. “Let’s put the Christmas lights up.” 

“Yeah?”

“It will look pretty,” Namjoon hums. “But never as pretty as you.”

“You’re so cheesy…”

“You like it.”

Jungkook doesn’t confirm or deny, but he thinks his eyes betray him. When it comes to Namjoon, they always do.

It’s still day out, but the sun isn’t strong enough to make a difference in the lighting inside Namjoon’s bedroom. They giggle as they prompt the Christmas lights over books, his wardrobe and over the paintings on the walls, planting soft kisses on every inch of naked skin every twenty seconds.

Once they are done, Namjoon connects it to the socket near the entrance door and the yellow lights come to life, all dimmed and beautiful. Jungkook gulps and exhales out a shaky breath, shoving both his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Nervous?” Namjoon questions, a hand on the small of his back. “You know we don’t–”

“Joon-ah, just because I’m nervous, doesn’t mean I’m having second thoughts, you know?” Jungkook doesn’t look at him as he says these words, chooses to keep staring at the lights instead. “I want to be with you like that. If you want to be with me like that.” 

“Of course I do, baby.” 

“Then, let’s do it.” 

Namjoon chuckles reach Jungkook’s ears. The older man moves, placing himself in front of Jungkook, hands now warming up his naked shoulderblades. Soft hazel eyes on his. 

“Remember when we were talking about this, and I told you that I should be the one to bottom for our first time?” Namjoon asks and he nods. “Well, for that to happen, I need, uh, to go to the bathroom and prepare myself. I know this part isn’t sexy nor romantic, but it’s necessary, so you just wait here for me, okay?”

Jungkook blinks at him, feeling a bit stupid for not knowing what preparing to have anal sex means. He wants to ask, maybe he should have asked beforehand, and it’s probably very clear on his face that he’s confused, because Namjoon presses a kiss to his forehead and mutters:

“I have to clean myself, baby.” 

Oh. 

“Right, uh, that makes sense.” Jungkook feels his face hot again and presses his palm against his cheeks, which makes Namjoon chuckle and press another kiss to his forehead. “Stop it, I can’t believe I’m like this…”

“It’s adorable.” 

“It’s really not…”

“It is.” Namjoon squeezes his waist before moving out of frame. “I’ll be right back, make yourself comfortable and please, do not grab a Haruki Murakami book again, you might fall asleep.”

So that was the book Jungkook was reading that day. It makes him smile. Namjoon remembers it. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Good boy.”

The burn on his cheeks intensify. Jungkook grunts to himself, plopping down on Namjoon’s bed and shutting his eyes closed. He feels his entire body hot, really, and the beating of his heart is so freaking loud. It pulses all around him, in every single one of his limbs, crawling around his nerve endings, pumping right to his cock. He’s horny and nervous and excited and fuck, so overwhelmed. 

Just thinking about it… The mere thought of it, it gets him all breathless. Jungkook isn’t stupid; he knows how sex works, he knows where everything goes and everything he’s experienced so far, both with Namjoon and by himself, make it so every little bit of him aches in expectancy. As he waits, his mind floods with memories of moments past, of when Namjoon had his mouth around his cock, of when Jungkook swallowed him whole. Of them dry humping against each other, of him spilling in his own pants because he’s too overwhelmed by the friction to be able to hold it together for longer. 

What a collection of experiences he lived through these past two months. So many, so overwhelming, so good and life changing, that it feels like it’s been longer. Two months seems like so little time for someone to change so much, to live this deeply, but then again, Jungkook’s merely catching up. He spent almost 25 years inert. 

The least he can do for himself now is everything. 

And being with Namjoon, being with him fully and completely, it’s part of that. An integral piece of the puzzle of Jeon Jungkook. 

The door shuts closed and Jungkook opens his eyes, lifting his body up and placing his weight on both his elbows. Namjoon has a towel around his hips and a bit of flush on his cheeks. He offers Jungkook a smile, or better yet, a smirk, and approaches the bed rather slowly. 

“I see you’ve given yourself a hard-on while I was in the bathroom,” he mutters, dipping his knee next to where Jungkook’s legs are. Namjoon cups his bulge with one hand, getting Jungkook to gasp and throw his body back down. The older man laughs. “What were you thinking about that made you like this, baby?”

“You,” Jungkook replies, breathing out heavily. “Us.”

Namjoon hums. “Great thoughts.”

“The best.”

When Namjoon straddles him, Jungkook gasps again, cocking aching even harder once the older man’s ass presses down on it. The older man smiles at him, placing his hands on each side of Jungkook’s face when he leans down to lick into his open lips and as Jungkook chases after Namjoon’s lips, he puts his hands on the older man’s buttcheeks over the towel.

“I didn’t even have to tell you where to put them,” Namjoon whispers, trailing wet kisses over the extent of Jungkook’s neck. “Such a good student.”

Jungkook squeezes his butt, enjoying the low sound that erupts from Namjoon’s throat and how much harder he presses down on his crotch. He feels the wetness slowly spreading in his underwear, cock throbbing, aching to be touched, engulfed, satisfied. Jungkook takes one of his hands and places it on Namjoon’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. It’s wet, more teeth than tongue, and they both moan into it, the desire for the other overtaking any paciness. The desperation in their kiss, in the way Namjoon’s ass rubs down on his clothed cock, in the lack of finesse Jungkook uses to thrust his hips up, it’s all disorienting, maddening. Perfect. 

The longer they make out this way, the hotter Jungkook’s skin feels. His chest is filled with want, gleefulness, burning with everything that is Kim Namjoon, and he wants more. He wants everything. 

“Hyung,” he gasps into Namjoon’s open, wet lips. “Please. I want- I want you.”

“You have me.” Namjoon kisses his bottom lip, his jaw, his cheek, his neck. “But I know what you mean, baby. Is it okay if I give you one more lesson?”

“Please.”

Namjoon keeps kissing his neck and with every kiss, Jungkook’s body aches a little harder, his heart bursts a little more. He caresses Namjoon’s back, enjoying how the older man breathes out heavily against his wet skin. It almost hurts when the older man slides off his lap; Jungkook has to physically stop himself from whining. 

“We need a few items,” Namjoon mutters, fixing the towel around his hips before sitting on the side of the bed and rummaging through his bedside table’s drawer. Jungkook, always curious, keeps looking, choosing to ignore the ache between his legs for the time being. Namjoon drops two objects on the bed between them. “Queer men don’t use either of those often enough, in my opinion, but I want to do things right with you.”

Jungkook reads what the medium sized bottle of lube says; water based. The condom is regular sized. If he had to guess, he would say this one wouldn’t fit Namjoon.

“You bought this for me to wear?” Jungkook asks, fingers wrapping around the object. He can’t really help the blush on his cheeks; he’s never held a condom before, much less would’ve known what size to buy, if it had been up to him. “You knew just by… looking at it?”

“I didn’t just look at it…” Namjoon trails off, voice dripping with amusement. Jungkook takes his free hand and presses it against his burning cheek. Keep it together. “You’re so cute.”

“I don’t want to be cute when we are about to have sex for the first time...”

“Oh, baby, I know you won’t look this cute when you’re inside me,” Namjoon’s suddenly sultry voice replies, taking the condom from Jungkook’s fingers and placing it back on the bed. The younger man blinks at him, blushing even harder. “But for now, yeah, you look very damn cute.”

Jungkook presses his lips together, but the smile spreads across his face anyway. He hides it in between his hands, enjoying how Namjoon’s giggles fly to him like the best song he has ever heard. The older man holds both his wrists, pulling Jungkook’s hands off his face delicately. 

“Do you want to prep me, baby?” Namjoon asks, a hand on Jungkook’s thigh. “I could do it myself, but it would be infinitely sexier if you were to do it for me.”

“I want to do it,” Jungkook is quick to say. “Just– teach me how.”

“I will, love.” 

Namjoon stands up and lets the towel drop on the floor. Jungkook’s eyes travel over his body; the softness of his belly, the happy trail that leads to his erect cock, his well-defined thighs. He can’t help the saliva that gathers in his mouth, nor the way his cock twitches. Jungkook knows desire is a very powerful force, but it’s still striking to him how much he feels it just by looking at Namjoon’s body. 

“Come here,” the older man whispers, a hand lifted up in the air for Jungkook to take. He’s quick to. Once they are standing face to face, Namjoon starts unbuttoning his jeans. “You like looking at me?” 

“Yes.” 

Jungkook watches as Namjoon unzips him, pulling both his jeans and underwear down. He holds his balance on Namjoon’s shoulders, stepping out of his clothes. Now naked, Jungkook focuses on the beating of his heart while Namjoon runs his fingers on the sides of his frame. 

“I like looking at you, too.” Namjoon’s hand wraps around him and Jungkook gasps. “All of you.” 

His eyes flutter closed, getting worked up fast due to Namjoon’s ministrations. Still holding the older man’s shoulder, Jungkook throws his head back, breathing coming out in fast puffs. Namjoon’s wrist twists, tightening his grip on Jungkook’s leaking cock, thumb pressed against the slit.

“I love the face you make when you’re feeling pleasure,” Namjoon continues barely above a whisper. “How you knit your eyebrows together, part your lips, close your eyes. Like you can’t deal with how good you feel.” 

“Joon…” Jungkook whines. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna– ah.” 

Namjoon slows down, but doesn’t take his hand off Jungkook’s throbbing length. “Sorry, I get… very horny when I see your cock.” 

Jungkook blinks his eyes open, throat dry. 

“Let’s move back to the bed,” Namjoon suggests, giving Jungkook’s cock a final twist of his wrist before letting it go. “I’ll teach you how to open me up.” 

Namjoon sits in the middle of the bed. He takes one of the pillows and places it under his butt, while the other goes below his head when he lays down. Jungkook gets in the bed, too, kneeling next to Namjoon’s left foot. 

“Alright, baby, there’s no mystery to it, okay?” Namjoon starts, smiling softly at him. “Take the lube and spread a good amount onto your index finger.” 

Jungkook does as he’s told, heart pulsing in his ears. Bottle in hand, he uncaps it, spreading the content over his index finger and the coldness of it catches Jungkook a bit by surprise. 

“Now you open me up,” Namjoon mutters, spreading his legs for emphasis. He takes one hand to his cock and lazily pumps it. “Circle my rim and press it inside slowly.” 

“Just this one?” Jungkook questions. “Will it– will it be enough?” 

“We start with one, and move our way up,” Namjoon replies, licking his lips. “It doesn’t always have to be this way, but, uh, I haven’t done this in a while, so I need to prep, you know?” 

Jungkook nods, moving a bit closer to him. He looks down at Namjoon’s cock, the redness of it, then his balls and ass. Namjoon holds his legs up, both arms under the back of his knees to give Jungkook a better view and access. He’s so smooth down there. He wasn’t before. Did he shave, just for this? The thought of it makes Jungkook ache even more.

Trapping his lower lip between his teeth, he takes his lubed up finger to the rim and circles the tip around it, just like how Namjoon told him to. 

“Press it in,” Namjoon whispers. “Slowly.” 

When Jungkook does it, Namjoon catches his breath, walls tightening around Jungkook’s digit. The immediate warmth engulfing his finger makes Jungkook’s own breath catch on his throat. He slides it in slowly, only stopping when his palm flushes against Namjoon’s ass. He flutters around Jungkook, and the feeling is so foreignly marvelous that the younger man just bakes on it for a few seconds. 

“Now imagine it around your cock, baby,” Namjoon’s voice comes to him, all entancing and delicious, and Jungkook properly whimpers. “Move your finger, baby, come on. Circle it inside. Open hyung up for you.”

Jungkook holds his breath, sliding his finger almost all the way out before pressing it in once more. He does it again and again, amazed at how Namjoon’s body speaks to his movements, all shaky and breathtaking. Jungkook keeps thrusting his finger inside, circling it like Namjoon told him to, and the sounds Namjoon makes; so breathy, so deep, gasping, moaning. 

“Add another, love, take the lube again,” Namjoon asks, but it sounds more like a plea. “Put two inside me.”

Jungkook moves quickly, sliding his finger out and grabbing the bottle. He squeezes lube onto his index and middle fingers and takes both digits to Namjoon’s entrance. Pressing them in, both men gasp at the tightness. The resistance is there, and Jungkook hesitates for a moment; he doesn’t want to hurt Namjoon. 

“Don’t stop, baby, it feels good,” the older man gasps. “Scissor your fingers, yeah? That’ll help with the stretch.”

He thrusts his digits in again, eyes lost between his fingers disappearing inside Namjoon’s ass and the way the older man’s eyebrows and put together, red lips parted, tongue resting over his teeth. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook whispers, fingers plunging into him a little faster, scissoring them like he was told to. “So beautiful, Namjoon-ah.” 

“Fuck,” Namjoon exhales, tightening around the digits. “Just like that, darling, you’re doing so well. So good for me.” 

The praise gets to Jungkook’s ears like a song. He continues scissoring his fingers, basking on the wet warmth of Namjoon’s walls stretching on his digits, chest full, leaking cock throbbing so much Jungkook fears he might burst just because of this. 

“Angle your fingers up. That’s where my prostate is, you’ll feel it. Just– brush your fingers over it, ah,” Namjoon breathes out a shaky moan. “That’s it, baby, yes, just like that.”

Saliva gathers in Jungkook’s mouth, the soft feeling of Namjoon’s prostate against his fingers driving him as insane as everything else. It doesn’t matter that his wrist hurts, or that his cock aches, and he wants, he needs release. No, no, none of that matters. Not when Namjoon’s gasping so prettily. When he tightens so hard around Jungkook. He could do this forever. He would, if it was possible. 

Jungkook has never seen Namjoon so vulnerable, so lost in pleasure. Not even that night in Seoul, when Jungkook put him in his mouth for the first time. It’s striking and marveling, and Jungkook is already addicted to it. To the tightness and wetness of him, to the way he gasps and flushes and instructs Jungkook on what to do to make him feel good. 

Oh, how good Namjoon always looks when teaching Jungkook how to give him pleasure. It might be Jungkook’s most favorite sight; Kim Namjoon, twisting and turning because of him. 

“Baby,” Namjoon sighs, taking his hands from under his knees. He takes his lustful eyes to Jungkook, hair sticking to the sides of his sweaty face. “I’m ready to take you.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook stills his movements, but doesn’t pull his fingers out of him. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Namjoon licks his lips. “Come here.” 

Jungkook loves to hear these words coming out of Namjoon’s lips. Come here. It's magnetic to him. His body moves automatically, fingers slipping out of Namjoon’s tightness as he places his hands on each side of the older man’s body, kissing him full on the lips. Namjoon breathes out against him, hands squeezing Jungkook’s ass, pulling his body down to grind against him. They moan against each other’s mouth when their hard cocks touch, and Jungkook’s brain is a bit mush and very horny.

“I want you so much,” he whines, taking his hands to the sides of Namjoon’s warm body. “I feel like I might die, it hurts so much.” 

“I know, love, I know, me too,” Namjoon replies, lips against his. “I need you inside me, and I need it now.”

Jungkook whines, nodding vigorously as he tats around the bed in search of the condom. As he looks for it, it dawns on him he doesn’t know how to put it on. It’s so stupid and it makes him feel like a loser, but it is what it is. Everyone has a first time, and he knows Namjoon doesn’t mind teaching him how to do it. So, once the object is in his hand, he asks;

“How do I put it on me?” 

“Lay down, baby, let me help you,” Namjoon mutters, and the attempt at a smooth switch in position leads to their legs entangling, Jungkook plopping down on the bed with a thud and soft giggles escaping through both of their lips. “Alright, alright, we’re good, we’re good.”

Once he’s the one kneeling on the bed, Namjoon takes the condom package and rips it open with his teeth. Jungkook keeps his eyes on every inch of movement the older man makes, both nervous and expectant. His mind and his body are overrun by nerves and excitement, lust running so deep within him Jungkook can taste it on his tongue. Namjoon holds the base of his cock with his left hand and Jungkook holds his breath, watching with wide eyes as Namjoon rolls the condom onto his throbbing length. Shock waves spread through his limbs at the touch of his hand and the tightness of the condom, a choked out moan emerging from his throat and flying through the air. Jungkook lets himself breathe again, heavy and fast. 

“It’s best if we do it this way,” Namjoon says, still holding his cock. “With me on top.”

“Okay.” Jungkook breathes through his open lips, body lighting up at the sight of Namjoon moving one leg over him and holding his body up by the strength of his knees. The Christmas lights seem to be shining a bit brighter now, or maybe Jungkook’s brain is too foggy and he’s too horny. “Do you– what happens now?”

Namjoon runs his free hand over his hair and smiles down at him. “I sink myself on you.”

The words run a marathon inside Jungkook’s mind and seize up his entire body, rush all of his blood to the one place he needs it the most and it aches so fucking badly. Jungkook wants to cry and moan and die and all he needs, truly, all he wants, the only thing that can save him is to feel that wet tightness again. But different. Better. He has never tasted this, never had it, but somehow, he craves it. He craves it so desperately that he knows that he would kneel, with his hands clasped together, and beg for it.

Namjoon holds the cross on Jungkook’s neck for a second, biting down a smile on his lips before letting it go.

“May I, baby?”

“Please.” 

Namjoon lifts himself up to align Jungkook’s tip with his entrance. 

“Put your hands on my thighs,” he asks and, as always, Jungkook does. “I’ll ease myself down slowly, alright? So we can both adjust together.”

Jungkook nods, heaving his breathing, short nails digging on Namjoon’s meaty thighs, desire burning so deep within him that he no longer knows what to do with it, or himself. He waits, oh, so expectantly, and when he feels it, when Namjoon finally, finally drops his ass down and Jungkook’s tip is engulfed by his heat, the younger man screeches out a sound that is neither a moan or a cry, but some nameless thing in between, so powerful that it turns his brain into mush and whites out all his thoughts. 

With his eyes piercing through Jungkook, Namjoon continues to sink down on him, and the fucking tightness of it is unlike anything Jungkook has ever experienced. It’s fireworks and a warm and tight embrace. It sparkles in all of the colors existing in the universe, it’s mind numbing and overwhelming and it makes Jungkook want to thrust up into him because he needs more, he needs it all, he needs to be completely inside Namjoon, all of it, to the hilt, forever. 

“Shhh, calm down, love,” Namjoon mutters, lips parted as he works more of Jungkook’s cock into his tight, marvelous heat. Jungkook whimpers, jolting his hips up. Namjoon gasps, giggling breathlessly. “Fuck, this feels so good.”

Jungkook nods, strangling out an agreement that he isn’t sure makes sense in the Korean language, which leads Namjoon to giggle a bit more and sink himself down harder. Jungkook cries out, fingernails digging deeper on Namjoon’s skin, causing a string of apologies to fall from his lips and a soft it’s okay, baby, I like it to fly out of Namjoon’s. He continues to work his body down on Jungkook’s length, and every new inch of his cock that penetrates Namjoon makes Jungkook feel a little less in control and a little closer to bursting. 

His mind is a wind whirl of confusing words and desperate pleas, heavy puffs escaping through his lips as the pressure around his cock intensifies, Namjoon’s walls like velvet around him. Jungkook slides his hands from Namjoon’s thighs to his hips, grabbing at the soft skin, desperately craving to be closer to him, but how to be closer than this? 

Namjoon flushes his ass on Jungkook’s crotch, fluttering around his aching cock, hands on his own thighs, eyes moving over Jungkook’s face. 

“You okay, baby?”

Jungkook’s throat is dry and he doesn’t know his full name anymore and there’s a high chance he will start crying soon, but he’s more than fine. He actually doesn’t think he’s ever felt better than this. The tightness he feels around his cock, the euphoria of being inside Namjoon, of having him this way, of feeling him this way. It’s all too much and somehow not enough. 

“Please, move, hyung, I need– I need you to move,” Jungkook asks, but the brokenness in voice makes it sound like a plea. Maybe it is one. “I’ll die if you don’t move.”

Namjoon bites down his lower lip and presses his knees hard against the mattress, lifting his hips up. The drag of his tight warmth over his length makes Jungkook whimper, barely having time to pull in another breath before Namjoon’s sinking into him again. He builds a steady, slow rhythm and every single drag makes Jungkook punch out increasingly louder moans out of his dry throat. 

The bed creaks under them, and the sounds coming out of their lips and joint bodies are lewd, sticky, wet. Jungkook’s balls are heavy, painful, sensitive. He feels the push and pull, the shattering pleasure that builds within him every time Namjoon fucks himself down on his cock. His pace is maddening, dizzying, searing. Jungkook loves it, worships it even, wants to drown it in and make a home out of it. Of the beauty that is Kim Namjoon fucking himself on his cock. 

He looks so fucked out, so lost in it while simultaneously paying attention to every single expression in Jungkook’s face, every single movement he makes. It’s disarming and gorgeous and overwhelming and Jungkook can’t hide away from it. Despite his shyness, despite the burn on his cheeks, down his neck, he can’t look away from Namjoon’s stare. His lustful, deep, fucking beautiful stare. The darkness of his pupils, the fullness of his lips, the arc of his back as he rides him. 

“Closer,” Jungkook rasps, hands sliding to Namjoon’s chest. He wants to touch Namjoon’s face, kiss his lips, feel all of him, all over him, under him. His blazing body, so intertwined with his that it’s confusing where one begins and the other ends. “Please, be closer.”

Namjoon slows down his movements, grinding on Jungkook’s cock rather than bouncing on it and oh, it feels so good, too. It all feels so goddamn good. Jungkook’s hands travel over his sweaty skin, anywhere they can touch, his chest, his nipples, his biceps. 

“You want to change positions?” Namjoon questions, both hands on Jungkook’s chest. “We can be closer in another position.” 

Jungkook hums, happily sighing when Namjoon leans down to kiss him. The movement causes his cock to slip out of Namjoon, and the feeling of loss shocks through Jungkook’s body like a lightning bolt, a whine falling from his lips and into Namjoon’s.  The older man chuckles against his mouth, whispering soft praises and promises.

“You’re doing so well,” he husks. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be inside of me again in a moment.”

“Okay.” Jungkook kisses him again, all teeth and tongue. “What position?”

“How about you on top of me?” Namjoon suggests, caressing his cheek, chest flush against his. “I’ll spread my legs a bit, you’ll fit in the middle, hold your body up with your hands. How does that sound?”

Jungkook gulps, aching wet cock twisting. “‘Sounds perfect.”

“It’s a really good position,” Namjoon continues, kissing his bottom lip, his jaw. “You’ll feel overwhelmed.”

“I already am feeling overwhelmed.”

Namjoon chuckles, nuzzing Jungkook’s neck. “More overwhelmed,” he clarifies. “But in a good way.”

“If there’s a bad way to feel overwhelmed, I don’t remember it.” 

“I’m glad fucking me makes you happy,” Namjoon rasps, nibbling his ear. He wraps his hand on Jungkook’s cock, pumping it. Fuck. “You feel so good inside me, Jungkook-ah. I need you to know that. I’d love to cockwarm you all day.”

“Cockwarm?” Jungkook asks, mind fuzzy with pleasure. He gasps, moans, huffs out breaths, getting more worked up the harder Namjoon’s wrist twists on his dick. “Fuck, Namjoon-ah, I need– yeah, I need to be in you.”

Namjoon chuckles in that pretty way he’s been chuckling for the past hour; full of fondness and desire. He tells Jungkook they need to change positions again, and this time, they manage to do it with some finesse. Namjoon lays back down on the mattress, legs spread open, pillow under his ass, and mutters the two words that make Jungkook move instinctively; 

“Come here.”

Moving his body to lay on top of Namjoon’s, Jungkook licks inside his mouth, mind a mixture of lust and adoration, hard cock pressed against Namjoon’s thigh, aching to be inside of him again. Before that, though, Namjoon grabs the bottle of lube next to his head and coats Jungkook’s cock with it, masturbating him to spread the slick all over his dick. 

“Ease yourself in me,” Namjoon murmurs, one hand on the small of Jungkook’s back, the other on his cock. “I’ll guide you.”

Heart thundering inside his chest, a sudden fear of fucking this up takes over Jungkook’s senses. He goes down, placing his palms on each side of the mattress. His cross dangles in front of Namjoon’s face, so close and so wrong. So perfectly placed. Jungkook feels his cock twist just at the sight of it and he chooses not to overthink what that means.  

Namjoon holds Jungkook’s cock against his entrance with one hand and, with the other, he presses on Jungkook’s lower back, eyes piercing through his, a silent encouragement on his open lips.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and focuses on Namjoon’s beautiful, flushed face, and pushes himself in. Through the first ring of muscles, to the wonderful tightness of Namjoon, something he had felt only once, only for a few minutes, only a few minutes ago, and already missed like an old lover and his warm embrace. It colors him immediately, spreading through his limbs like wildfire, taking over everything he is once again. 

“Oh my God,” Jungkook breathes out, cheeks burning under the intense stare of Namjoon’s hazel eyes. “Hyung…”

Namjoon presses his hand on the small of his back again, and Jungkook pushes more of himself inside. Through the second ring of muscles, to the warm embrace of Namjoon’s walls, hugging him, welcoming him, squeezing him. Begging him to go deeper. Jungkook feels so intoxicated in Namjoon. His balls hurt so bad, his cock is hard. He keeps fucking into him, hoping he’s doing it right, hoping it’s feels as good for Namjoon as it does to him.

The older man clenches around Jungkook, getting the younger man to sob out a moan. He loses some of his balance, hands weak in sight of all the mind-boggling pleasure. Namjoon keeps his hand on Jungkook’s lower back, guiding him to go deeper, to be inside of him fully, so Jungkook slides more of himself in and bottoms out, crotch flushed against Namjoon’s ass once more, his golden cross snug on Namjoon’s lips. 

It feels so different like this. They are so close, close enough to feel each other’s erratic heartbeat, to feel the warmth of their sweaty chests, the heat radiating from their breaths. Close enough to pull the other in an eruptive, deep kiss, tongues moving together with their hips. Jungkook lets his instincts guide him, thrusting slowly in and out of Namjoon, kissing him messily, moaning against his open lips.

The rhythm he chooses is similar to Namjoon’s when he was on top of him; slow, sensual. His body wants him to rut, is basically begging to, but Jungkook doesn’t want it to be this way. Not now, not for the first time. He likes to feel Namjoon like this; opening up to him, fluttering around his length. He likes to feel his orgasm building up, even if fast, still, somehow, slow enough for Jungkook to savor this moment. 

“Yes, baby, keep doing it like this,” Namjoon encourages, nails lightly scratching Jungkook’s back. “Angle your hips a bit down, yeah, like this. So good for hyung, always so good.”

Jungkook’s fully listening, but he’s also only half listening. He feels submersed in water, flying in the blue sky, running through a green forest. He hears birds, music, the wind and laughter. Every thrust of his cock into Namjoon’s body feels like nirvana. Jungkook didn’t know such a sensation was possible, he had no idea a feeling so whole, so mystical could exist. 

He wonders, in the back of his mind, if sex feels like this for everyone. If sex tastes like wine poured into your open lips or the communion placed on your tongue. 

The purest form of devotion. 

Namjoon presses his nails on Jungkook’s butt, moving his body against his, gasping loudly against his mouth. He’s feeling good. Jungkook’s making him feel good. Namjoon’s eyebrows are knit together, his eyes still burning on Jungkook’s. His beautiful tanned skin, even more beautiful under the Christmas lights and the sweat shining on his body. 

Jungkook fucks into him a bit harder when his eyes zero on the cross dangling from his neck, the pressure at the base of his cock growing bigger, more difficult to control. His thrusts turn more erratic than before, the pull of desperation, the search for release clouding his thoughts. Namjoon clenches down on him, moving his body against Jungkook’s, meeting his thrusts halfway. 

The push and pull makes Jungkook’s limbs tremble. He loves the way it makes him whole only to pull him apart. Jungkook’s mesmerized by it. By him. Every time his hips move, he plunges all of his cock inside Namjoon and the man makes this face. This fucking face. His lips part, and he keeps clenching around Jungkook, gasping, moaning, letting himself feel everything. So vulnerable, so eager, so pliant. Namjoon’s so soft, so beautiful, so good. How lucky is Jungkook to be able to see him this way. To see all of him, to be given the chance to experience all of his diviness. 

Jungkook pulls almost all the way out of him and pushes it in again, and again, Namjoon’s lips part, moans falling from them like a song. Like the most beautiful song Jungkook has ever heard. All of it, really, all of him, all of them, it’s like a song. The giggles in the middle of sex, the huff of their breaths, the push and pull of their bodies, the lewd sounds they make every time they connect, the gasps, the whimpers, the moans. 

It’s all a song in the making. 

A song they will perfect with time and practice with adoration. A song that Jungkook wants to learn, to become so familiar with that it’s like a hymn to him. One that he would sing before bed, know all the words to, adore it more than anything because he loves the way Namjoon’s body sings to him and how his body sings to Namjoon. He would live in this song, for this song, and he would know it better than any other song, any other hymn. And this song, the song of them, the song of their bodies moving as one, it’s divine. So divine that, as he loses more of himself to the feeling of the two of them moving as one, Jungkook spills words that he isn’t sure make any sort of sense, but he hopes Namjoon understands them, anyway.

“Sing me like a bible hymn,” Jungkook gasps in a soft whisper. “Namjoon-ah, please, sing me like a bible hymn.” 

Namjoon kisses him, calves wrapped around Jungkook’s, blazing body moving against his, walls clenching around his aching cock and Jungkook knows, he can feel it, the fire pooling in the low of his abdomen, the electricity in every fiber of his being. 

“I am singing to you,” Namjoon replies, lips brushing against his, nails sinking on Jungkook’s skin. “Cum for me, baby, sing to me.” 

Jungkook pushes into Namjoon one more time before his orgasm spreads through him, bright and static. He jerks his hips forward, moaning pathetically loud and hiding his face in the crook of Namjoon’s neck. Jungkook’s entire body pulses, so blissed out, so fucked out. He hiccups, the feeling of Namjoon clenching around his spent cock making him twist in oversensitivity. 

The older man caresses his back, planting kisses on every inch of Jungkook’s skin his lips can reach. Jungkook holds him as tightly as he can, the idea of moving away from Namjoon suddenly terrifying enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

“Can we stay here forever?” He whispers, sniffing his neck. “This is my favorite place.”

“Inside me?” 

Jungkook pulls in a breath, unsure how his body has found space for shyness in the midst of all the more overwhelming sensations cursing through him in this post-orgasmic bliss. 

“Just with you, like this,” he replies, pulling his face up to look at Namjoon. Jungkook runs his tongue over his lower lip. “I want to feel this way, with you, always. No matter who’s inside who.” 

Namjoon’s smile is brighter than all the Christmas lights in the world. Thumb on Jungkook’s cheek, Namjoon pulls a deep breath of his own, expression suddenly growing serious. 

“You know how important to me you are, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” Jungkook swallows. “You’re very important to me too, Namjoon.”

“Then, since we have established that we’re extremely important to each other, I was wondering if…” Namjoon stops for a second. He takes another breath. “If you would like to be my boyfriend, officially.”

Jungkook’s lips part. The words are unexpected, but perhaps they shouldn’t be. Not after everything they have been through, not after all the confessions they have made to each other. All the sacrifices, all the punishment, all the changes, all the discoveries. All of the first times Jungkook has shared with Namjoon. 

Perhaps yesterday these words would feel heavy and scary and Jungkook would choke out in fear and deny all the feelings bubbling between them. Say once again he isn’t ready, avoid any real conversation, hide away in the corner of one of his boxes, but today is such a special day. So filled with love, acceptance, happiness. He can’t deny himself. He can’t deny the truth. 

“Boyfriend,” Jungkook repeats the word just to see how it sounds coming off his lips. “I like it.” 

Namjoon lifts his eyebrows, eyes shining. “Is that a yes?” 

“Yes, Kim Namjoon, that is a yes.” 

“Fuck, yeah,” Namjoon exclaims before holding him tightly enough to make it hard to breathe. Jungkook laughs, giggles, really, before holding him just as tightly. “You’re my first boyfriend.”

“Really?” Jungkook kisses his cheek. “I feel really special.”

“You should because you are.” Namjoon holds him with such care. Kisses him with so much adoration. “You’re the most special person in the world. My golden boy.”

Jungkook pulls away to look at him again. “Golden boy?” 

“Yes, golden boy.”

The warm tightness of Namjoon’s walls clench around his cock unexpectedly and Jungkook gasps. “Fuck, how good it feels to be inside you… What did you call this?”

“Cockwarming.” 

“Right, cockwarming.” Jungkook bites down his lower lip. “Can I make you cum now? I really, really like to hear you cum.”

“When you ask it so nicely and so sensually…” Before Jungkook kisses him, Namjoon puts a hand on his chest. “We need to change your condom, buddy.”

“Oh, shit, right.”

Sliding off Namjoon isn’t something Jungkook wants to do, but he can’t help his inflated ego at how the older man whines when he pulls out. 

“I’ll be inside you again soon, don’t worry,” Jungkook mumbles the same words Namjoon had said to him, which make Namjoon laugh. Music to his ears. “How many did you buy?”

“Plenty,” Namjoon says with a shrug of his shoulders before he expertly removes the condom off Jungkook’s length and gives it a knot. He doesn’t stand up, just throws it inside a tiny garbage can probably reserved for papers. “I’ll remove that later. Onto more important things.”

He wraps another package with his teeth and rolls the condom onto Jungkook’s already half-hard cock. Namjoon grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes a good amount over his length, squeezing him to full hardness once more. Truly desperate, Jungkook doesn’t wait a single second before capturing his lips in a searing kiss, tongue sliding inside Namjoon’s mouth and drinking all of him, over and over again, grinding his body against his. 

When he slides inside Namjoon again, it’s like a billion stars have suddenly aligned. Jungkook feels so whole, so happy, so free of any boxes, any cages, any cuffs. 

Namjoon wraps a hand around his own cock, telling Jungkook to fuck him harder, and it feels as mystical as the first time. Maybe even more. The euphoria within Jungkook only gets bigger, brighter, louder. He angles his hips upward like Namjoon taught him, and he makes sure to catch every single reaction on Namjoon’s face and body. He wants to memorize it. Learn it. Remember it. Perfect it. Adore it. 

When Namjoon cums, both by his own hand and Jungkook’s cock dragging against his prostate, it feels like another gorgeous note to their song. And truly, Jungkook would die happy, if he were to die now. Thankfully, he still has a long way to go. 

“Like a bird,” Jungkook whispers against Namjoon’s lips, cock still buried inside him. “I feel like a bird finally taking flight after attempting to use his wings for months on end and a lifetime being bound.”

“Is this your Christmas bird metaphor?”

“I decided to make one for you. Is it good?” 

Namjoon kisses him, a hand around Jungkook’s waist, the other on his nape. “It’s perfect.”

Fly, fly away. So much to see. So much to feel. An entire world at the tip of his wings.

How marvelous.

Christmas night is full of Namjoon. Full of the two of them. Of sex, of kisses, of snuggling in front of the TV watching bad straight Christmas movies and good queer movies that include Christmas. 

Somehow, so suddenly, and because of how much more he found out about himself today, Jungkook kind of gets the appeal of this type of coziness. Of hugging someone you care about and laughing at bad scripts and funny people. 

They eat the leftover food from earlier that day, and Jungkook promises to make them a proper breakfast the next morning. Even lunch, because he has no intention of leaving Namjoon’s sight. His boyfriend seems extremely happy with the idea, already making plans for them for the rest of the year. Apparently, he also has no intention to let Jungkook out of his sight until 2024 is popping champagne and screaming HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

Together, inside their cozy love bubble, they sleep, and Jungkook’s dreams are so full of sin that he wakes up rock hard and proceeds to stir Namjoon awake at 7am to ask if he would like to, please, have sex with him again. Namjoon laughs with all of his body, and turns to the side to grab the bottle of lube. 

“Safe to say this bottle won’t last long with a boyfriend as eager as mine…” 

“Is that a complaint?”

“Not in a million years.” Namjoon opens the bottle. “What position shall we try now?”  

Jungkook chews on the inside of his cheek, mind full of the dream he had; of Namjoon pressing into him, fucking him slowly onto the bed, taking all of him, carving his path into Jungkook. 

“Is it too early for me to try?” 

Before Namjoon can answer, the doorbell rings. Namjoon frowns, turning his face to the other side. Begrudgingly, he pulls the duvet off him and stands up.

“Isn’t it a bit too early for visits?” Namjoon huffs. “Maybe Yoongi lost his keys…”

Jungkook gets to his feet as well, briefly checking if he’s presentable enough to see another human being. The sweater Namjoon gave to him after they showered is big enough to cover Jungkook to the middle of his thighs and sure, it’s quite obvious that they were being intimate, why else would his skin glow so much, but it doesn’t really matter, right? Even if Yoongi still doesn’t know, this feels like the perfect way for him to find out. He thinks. Maybe. Probably. Fuck, whatever.

“You think he will be mad?” Jungkook asks, following behind Namjoon to the hallway. “No, right?”

“I’ll honestly be surprised if he gives any fucks,” Namjoon chuckles. “Yoongi’s been so weird lately. That’s mostly why I haven’t told him yet. He’s so distant.” 

Jungkook shrugs. “Well, either way, it’s cool. We’re boyfriends now. I think he will be happy for us, even if doesn’t give any fucks.”

“I like this new positiveness in you,” Namjoon mutters as he unlocks the front door, a hand around Jungkook’s waist. “It suits you.”

On the other side of the door, it isn’t Yoongi, but Jimin. The sight of him catches Jungkook by surprise, but he opens a smile anyway, hands on the arm Namjoon has around him. 

“Hyung! What are you doing here?”

“I called,” Jimin mutters slowly, looking between the two of them. There’s a frown between his eyebrows. “I called both of you. Multiple times.”

“Sorry, uh, I don’t actually know where my phone is…” Jungkook trails off. He looks beyond Jimin, seeing part of his car behind his frame. “Did something happen?” 

“Well, yes,” Jimin starts, but it isn’t necessary for him to continue. The passenger’s seat door opens and a person walks out, a big yellow bag on her right shoulder. Even before Jungkook sees her face, he knows who it is. “She showed up at the house a few hours ago.” 

Jungkook freezes on the spot, taking in his eomeoni’s face, a face he hasn’t seen in almost half a year, and the bruises that color it red and purple. Her eyes burn onto his, so sad, so full of emotion, and then go down to the arm he’s tightly holding around his waist.

As if a lightning has struck him, Jungkook pulls himself away from Namjoon’s embrace, breath coming out in heavy puffs, heart sinking to his feet.