Chapter Text
The air is cold. The balcony's floor through his sweatpants is colder. The loneliness is coldest.
Sometimes Jungkook can't cry. He feels the emotion and the sob forcing its way through his throat from his chest, but nothing happens. Instead, he resorts to punching the wall, punching mirrors, screaming into pillows, screaming out loud, and yet he's still left with an overwhelming amount of emotion just trying to break past the last seal, and... nothing.
He can't cry.
It frustrates him. Clenching his jaw and trying not to fuck his hand up, even more, Jungkook walks into his living room and slides open the balcony door. He pushes past the tidal wave of cold air as it washes over him, making his unruly hair dance in the wind as he sits on the floor.
Jungkook's legs dangle through the black bars of the balcony railing, and he watches the people on the street below him. People hold hands and run across the road giggling, and couples walk out of shops with bottles of wine and chocolate. He watches as friendship groups laugh and laugh until they're out of breath.
The emotions running through Jungkook make him feel hot, his cheeks are probably rosy red despite the winter chill, and he leans forward until his forehead rests against the cold bars. He hates feeling like this; like he has a million different feelings trying to crawl out of him but he can't express them. He just can't seem to let them out, and it's starting to feel like one day he'll just explode into tiny fragments of emotion until there's nothing left of him.
"You'll get a headache if you keep doing that," A gentle voice calls out, startling Jungkook.
Jungkook lifts his head slowly from the cold rail and peaks to his right, seeing his neighbour also sitting on the floor of his apartment's balcony. The neighbour releases a deep sigh in the cold air, and Jungkook watches the visible breath float between them, almost touching Jungkook's nose. He realises how close they're sitting, with one short, black railing separating them.
Jungkook nods once to his neighbour before he averts his gaze back to the ground, between the railing bars below him. They don't know each other, so it's no wonder an awkward silence befalls them. More people walk through the busy street despite it being close to 11pm, but Jungkook's hyper aware of his neighbour still on the ground next to him.
The neighbour releases another deep breath, and Jungkook follows the sad sound, though a smile appears on the neighbour's face.
"I'm Namjoon, by the way," the neighbour says, holding out his right hand through the railing and Jungkook can't do anything other than stare at it. In his pocket sits his right hand slowly dripping blood thanks to his frustration and shattered bathroom mirror.
"Jungkook," he whispers.
Jungkook keeps his hand clutched in the pocket of his black bomber jacket, and hopes his neighbour doesn't push…but life's never seemed to work in Jungkook's favour so why would it start, now?
"You're supposed to shake it," Namjoon replies with a little nod to his outstretched hand. "It's polite."
Namjoon only sounds light when he talks, pretending to scold, but Jungkook feels it would be rude to deny him the handshake he's waiting for. Jungkook tries to wipe his knuckles on the inside of his pocket and hopes his hand doesn't look as bad as it feels. He carefully places his hand in Namjoon's and their handshake is slow, tender.
Namjoon's lips curl down into a frown, and he keeps his grip loose on Jungkook's slender fingers, not wanting to aggravate the purple, angry knuckles that are bruising fast and still dripping blood.
"Will you wait here a second?" Namjoon asks quietly, waiting for Jungkook's small nod before rushing into his apartment.
Jungkook's not sure why they're both keeping their voices so hushed, but he feels thankful for it. He's never been a fan of loud noises unless it's the music coming from his own earphones.
Namjoon sits back on his own balcony's concrete floor and slowly reaches for Jungkook's hand, fitting it back through the railing. Jungkook furrows his brows as confusion takes over him until he sees Namjoon shift the red first aid kit onto his lap. He takes out a small antiseptic wipe and cleans over the cuts carefully.
"What did you hit?"
"A mirror," Jungkook replies, and he watches Namjoon pause and tense. A brief, sad smile crosses his face before Jungkook feels Namjoon's thumb slowly caress the back of his hand.
"I took all the glass out," Jungkook continues as Namjoon looks intently at the small cuts.
"Can I ask why you punched it?" Namjoon asks a little hesitantly.
Jungkook shakes his head, and he's relieved when Namjoon nods in reply. It's not that he's against talking about things, even if Namjoon's practically a stranger, it's more that he doesn't quite know how to articulate himself. How do you explain to someone that sometimes you feel so much but it just won't come out?
Namjoon carefully applies the gauze and bandages to Jungkook's knuckles, making sure they're wrapped up tightly with a tender touch that never falters.
Namjoon holds his hand after finishing, staring down and lightly caressing his thumb back and forth over the smooth bandage. Jungkook watches intently as Namjoon shifts back to their balcony's view, keeping Jungkook's hand in his.
Jungkook finds he doesn't mind. He wordlessly shifts to look at the street below them, hand between the railing, and resting on Namjoon's thigh.
It's late, and so the people lingering on the streets have mostly filtered away. Jungkook doesn't find anyone new to watch; anyone new to envy. He takes a steadying breath and chances a look at Namjoon, still holding his hand.
Namjoon's watching the sky. Jungkook isn't entirely sure of what he's looking at, considering it's nearing midnight and they live in a city. The stars aren't clear, and there seems to be clouds blocking the little bit of the sky visible through the street lamps.
It's a boring view to Jungkook, nothing much to see, but he follows Namjoon's gaze anyway and tries to see what he sees.
"I love the sky," Namjoon comments after a few moments of a silence Jungkook was feeling comfortable in. The kind of silence that allows two souls to entwine.
"Why?" Jungkook asks, and Namjoon startles as though he thought Jungkook was someone who wouldn't talk, or wouldn't engage with him at all.
"I can always count on it," Namjoon replies with a wistful smile. "It changes depending on the weather or the time of day, but it's always there. People come and go, and I welcome change. I've moved around a lot, met lots of people, left lots of people. I've changed careers twice and I'm not even in my thirties for another three years. It's the life I choose to live but with it brings chaos and oftentimes uncertainty, and it's easy to get overwhelmed. At least I know the sky will be there when I look up, a reminder that stability is out there."
Namjoon looks longingly, eyes fixed on the sky, and it's clear that speech came as natural as the dead of night.
Jungkook thinks he disagrees. The sky changes far too much to ever be stable, and he's always felt a little uneasy at the way clouds can change so suddenly and darken so quickly before rain's pelting the pavement. Jungkook supposes that if it comforts Namjoon, then who's Jungkook to rain on his parade?
"Do you think that deeply about everything?" Jungkook asks instead.
"I've been told I think too much," Namjoon replies easily. "You should hear the meaning I've attached to the colour of my curtains."
Jungkook lets out a little laugh, and so does Namjoon. Jungkook wonders what it would be like to float through life attaching meaning to things. Maybe he'd grow to love where he is in life if everything meant something to him, but he's not Namjoon. He doesn't look up at the sky because it's a reassurance, Jungkook looks down at the people below and sees people living a life he wishes he had. They'll cuddle people in a way Jungkook has never been cuddled, and they'll laugh in a way Jungkook has never laughed.
"You look like you think too much, too," Namjoon says, bringing Jungkook from his thoughts.
Jungkook nods and smiles slightly in response. Namjoon doesn't say anything, and instead he goes back to watching the sky.
"Are you watching for anything in particular?" Jungkook asks at Namjoon's darting pupils.
Namjoon turns and smiles.
Jungkook watches deep dimples form on his cheeks, and the little craters jolt a feeling in Jungkook's throat, forming a lump. He swallows around it, realising that the sheer beauty of Namjoon's smile, the way he smiles so easily and so prettily, makes Jungkook unreasonably emotional. Clearly it's all been bottling up, considering he felt the need for release so strong he had punched a mirror, but when he feels himself getting choked up, and a small tear in his eye, it still shocks him.
"Are you okay?"
There's concern on Namjoon's face and Jungkook watches the dimples disappear to make way for little frown lines. Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much. If someone can smile so easily and so captivatingly, they shouldn't be doing anything else.
Jungkook nods quickly, a smile he hopes looks genuine appearing on his face as he blinks the one tear away. He might be dismissing the catalyst needed to release the emotion bottled up inside of him, but it's worth it to see the dimples again. Namjoon really has a beautiful smile.
"It's supposed to snow tonight," Namjoon says, answering Jungkook's previous question, and just as he does Jungkook feels a slight wetness on the very tip of his nose. He scrunches it as Namjoon gasps, bringing his free hand to poke his nose. It's then that Jungkook remembers that his hand is still comfortably nestled in Namjoon's.
"Looks like the weather forecast was right," Namjoon beams. Jungkook feels more snow settle into his hair. A few more droplets hits his nose and he scrunches it again, only for Namjoon to emit a giggle under his breath.
"Aren't you meant to be watching the sky?" Jungkook asks cheekily, and Namjoon shrugs.
"You were too cute, I couldn't help looking at you instead."
"Oh," Jungkook replies dumbly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Namjoon replies easily. So easily, because everything seems to be a breeze for him.
Jungkook feels Namjoon squeeze his fingers as the snow continues to fall. The flurry picks up until there's a light dusting of powdery snow across the ground and on rooftops. Jungkook's suddenly hit with the realisation that he's watching the first snowfall of winter.
"Do you make wishes during the first snow?" Namjoon asks with a smile on his face. His dimples are on show again, and the lump is back in Jungkook's throat. He feels like maybe if life was on his side for once, then the lump would stop the rush of emotion threatening to overflow, but it isn't. Jungkook swallows thickly but tears sting his eyes and he can't help the few tears that escape down his cold cheeks.
"I do," Jungkook whispers as Namjoon uses his thumb to wipe away his tears.
"What's wrong?" Namjoon's voice is barely a whisper, as though he's afraid he'll talk too loudly and spook Jungkook.
"You have a really pretty smile," Jungkook says with a watery laugh that warns Namjoon of the tears to come.
Namjoon smiles bigger, and brighter than before.
"Do you think the saying, that you'll stay with the person you're with during the first snow for a long time, is right?"
"I hope so," Jungkook whispers, bandaged hand squeezing Namjoon's gentle hand.
Jungkook startles to the shrill of his alarm and groggily walks into his kitchen for a cup of coffee to start his day. As he pours his coffee, Jungkook's right hand throbs rather painfully and he's suddenly thrown back to the night before.
Broken mirror. Namjoon. Holding hands. The first snow.
Jungkook clutches his coffee in his left hand and decides to spend the morning on his balcony to see if the snow settled overnight — boy did it! The streets are covered in inches of thick snow and the trees look like someone's painted them white as opposed to their usual green and brown. There are people playing in the thick snow, including children in woolly hats and thick coats, clearly not going to school today, and Jungkook thinks his university will probably be closed, too.
"Good morning," the same gentle voice from last night says.
Jungkook finds Namjoon wrapped in a thick white jumper, blue jeans hugging his rather thick thighs. A quilted blanket is pulled tight over his shoulders as he curls up on an armchair with a book in his hands.
"Hi," Jungkook says, eyes fixated on the dimples now appearing with Namjoon's smile.
Namjoon places his book on the small wooden table next to the chair and walks over to the railing separating them, "How's your hand?"
Oh," Jungkook says, looking at the bandages still tight around his knuckles, and shrugs. "Hurts a little."
"Wait here," Namjoon says before walking back into his apartment.
Jungkook realises that their gentle voices and hushed tones weren't just a product of the late night, because Namjoon's just as tender and careful in the morning, too. It's nice. Calming.
Jungkook can't help but feel at ease in Namjoon's presence in a way he's never really felt before.
Namjoon arrives back on the balcony with a small tub of cream. He reaches over the hip high balcony railing and carefully takes Jungkook's wrapped hand, handling it with a delicacy that no one's ever afford Jungkook before.
"May I?"
Jungkook nods as he sets his coffee down on the top of the railing, not trusting his hands to stay steady as Namjoon continues caressing his hand. His thumb keeps rubbing little circles on the back of Jungkook's fingers as he uses his other hand to unwrap the bandage, and then scoop a little cream from the tub he's placed by Jungkook's coffee mug.
The circles continue as he also spreads the cream around Jungkook's knuckles, and Jungkook keeps the winces to himself as it stings slightly. He would give absolutely anything for this tender moment to never stop, and he only met Namjoon for the first time last night.
"I don't have a lot of experience with bandaging cuts or anything, but maybe you should let the air get to it now that it's trying to heal," Namjoon says as he stops rubbing the cream around and places the lid back on the tub.
Jungkook nods before picking up his coffee mug, the sight of the snow covered street pulls him to the edge of the balcony so he can watch.
"I'm glad the snow settled," Jungkook says into the comfortable silence that's hung between them a few times now. He watches everyone in the street assist in making a huge snowman, laughter reaching all the way to their seventh story balcony.
Namjoon hums, "Do you watch the street often? Like I watch the sky?"
"Yeah," Jungkook replies easily, because it feels like that with Namjoon.
"May I ask why?" Namjoon asks, and Jungkook thinks of shaking his head like last night, but he doesn't. Jungkook finds himself able to tell Namjoon. Perhaps this is what it's like to connect with someone.
Jungkook doesn't avert his gaze from the street, "I find it easier to feel things when I watch people live their lives. The way they exist with different dispositions helps me release emotions that I have a hard time releasing."
Namjoon seems to contemplate for a moment before he stands right up against the railing and bumps Jungkook's shoulder, "Sounds like you're feeling their emotions instead of your own."
"It's better than nothing."
After watching the neighbourhood families play in the snow one last time, Jungkook quietly bids Namjoon a farewell and walks back inside his apartment.
Jungkook's been held up in his apartment for three days. Cancelled classes meant his professors were sending additional work over emails and he already had a multitude of assignments he had to finish and submit.
Such is the life of a student, Jungkook finds himself without any clean clothes to wear and resorts to taking a break from his neverending stack of research to do some laundry.
Hauling his heavy laundry bag to the laundry room three floors down was relatively easy compared to dealing with the rush of feelings that clog his chest when he sees Namjoon there.
Namjoon's staring intently at one of the machines with his eyebrows furrowed, and Jungkook's not sure how long he watches Namjoon's confused, pensive stare, but when it starts to feel inappropriate he coughs to catch Namjoon's attention.
"Oh, hey Jungkook," Namjoon says, a confused lilt to his voice. "Do you know how to work this thing?"
"Is it new?" Jungkook asks. He walks over and crouches down next to Namjoon, making sure their shoulders and arms rest against each other. He hasn't been able to forget Namjoon's touch, and maybe it's the way he's gone so long without another person's hand in his, but he had been thinking about getting to hold Namjoon's hand again for the past three days.
Namjoon nods.
"It's new and confusing."
Jungkook takes a moment to look at it and it's indeed confusing, because it's definitely not in Korean. He takes out his phone and tries to translate each word before figuring out it's a Danish washing machine, and then he slowly figures out how to start Namjoon's wash.
The laundry room is fairly long with three rows of five washing machines with a tumble dryer on top. Every machine seems to be either in use, or Jungkook realises dejectedly, broken. He decides to sit on the little bench on the far wall and wait.
"Thank you for the help," Namjoon beams, perching next to Jungkook. "I'm not sure what I'd do without my favourite socks for tonight."
Jungkook only fixes Namjoon with a confused look before he elaborates.
"I have a work party tonight, and I'd like to come across as happy and easygoing since I can be slightly serious when it comes to my work. The yellow in the socks reminds me of the brightness of the sun and thus how bright my mood should be."
Jungkook can't stifle the little giggle that rises to his lips or the endeared smile on his face, and so he lets Namjoon see it in its fullness.
"You weren't kidding when you said everything in your life has a meaning."
Namjoon smiles back and Jungkook deludes himself for a second and thinks it was his own smile that triggered Namjoon's.
"Meaning makes life worthwhile," Namjoon replies, but this time Jungkook's greeted with an uneasy smile that hardly makes a dimple in his cheek.
"Maybe," Jungkook frowns slightly. "But meanings make it harder when those things are ripped away. Like a pink lamp for example, what if one day pink's my favourite colour and the next it's blue? Then I can just replace it with a blue lamp. It would be harder if the pink lamp suddenly became a metaphor for every bit of love in my life. Some things exist to be temporary, not everything needs a meaning."
"Maybe," is all Namjoon replies, but he continues looking at Jungkook with a soft glint in his eyes. It's as though he's trying to see past Jungkook and into his mind, into his soul. Jungkook wonders if their souls really did entwine with the first snow, because he feels his heart tug towards Namjoon's gentle expression.
When they share a smile, it's familiar in a way that shocks Jungkook to his core. A small part of him finds it frightening that a stranger keeps knocking the fragile tower of emotion nestled deep inside him, but for now he'll bask in the warmth of Namjoon's easy smile.
Jungkook is a student through and through. His stress has accumulated so much that it's evident in the shake of his hands and the heave of his chest. It's a shame he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the library on campus, not once able to bump into Namjoon again. Why he wants to bump into Namjoon again will remain a mystery for as long as Jungkook's brain tricks him to believe. His sleeping schedule consists of going to bed at 3am and waking up at 2pm (if his classes are in the afternoon), or sleeping at midnight and waking up at 5am. His body clock isn't quite sure what it should adjust to and doesn't quite know when it should be fed.
Which leads to now.
Jungkook's been a mess. He's spent four days on one assignment because he just can't seem to get any of it right. It's been eating away at him, and his other work has started piling up. The anxiety for the looming deadlines feels like a dark cloud getting closer and closer until the deadline will inevitably hit Jungkook like a hailstorm.
It also doesn't help that he hasn't properly eaten.
Before he started working on the assignment he knew he was due a grocery store run, but alas, the need to finish it completely overpowered any sort of common sense he possessed. So, now that Jungkook finally manages to get the work right, he stands back from his canvas to admire the work, and that's when his stomach decides to grumble loudly and his head spins.
Jungkook curses to himself, and realises he's gone two whole days without any food, only water. He stumbles from his living room into his kitchenette. Opening the few cupboards he has proves useless when finds nothing substantial, just a couple of sauce bottles and a can of coke. He realises with complete despair that he's going to need to do a grocery store run with a pounding headache and vision that keeps swimming.
Putting his coat and shoes on is a less than graceful affair, Jungkook slamming a heavy hand against the front door to stop himself from tumbling over. He can already tell this is going to go absolutely horribly, and not to mention the added obstacle of the icy, snowy ground outside.
Once Jungkook's tackled with the front door, he now needs to brave the hallway and get to the elevator at the other end. Easier said than done in his current state, but he thinks he might actually do it after three steps of unwavered balance — he's sorely mistaken. His vision swims suddenly and he closes his eyes and braces for the floor to meet his face.
Strong arms catch him instead.
Jungkook's slowly lowered to the floor and propped up against the hallway's wall. A hand cradles the back of his head, not allowing it to thump against the wall behind him.
"Jungkook? Can you hear me?"
Jungkook realises his eyes are shut and the whole situation looks worse than it is, but he's just so tired. Now his eyes are closed, he doesn't want to open them again.
"I'm really going to need you to open your eyes and acknowledge me or I'll call an ambulance," The voice is tender but the threat is real and Jungkook forces his eyes to open.
He notices dimples, first. A little smile. Then eyes filled with concern. A soft voice. Careful hands. Namjoon.
"I'm okay," Jungkook says but Namjoon's concerned eyes never falter.
"You took a nosedive towards the floor, but sure. What on earth happened?"
Jungkook focuses on the gentle hand still cupping the back of his head as Namjoon shifts closer on his knees.
"Haven't eaten in a while, was on my way to the store."
Namjoon's eyebrows furrow and the deep dimples disappear, making way for deep wrinkles at the top of his nose. Jungkook doesn't like it. He misses the dimples.
"Are you sure you're not sick, too? I mean you fainted."
Jungkook shakes his head which proves disastrous as his headache worsens and he can't help but wince before replying.
"What day is it?"
"Wednesday."
"Then I'm running on a severe lack of sleep, too," Jungkook grimaces as Namjoon clicks his tongue in disapproval.
"I just need to eat and sleep and I'll be fine," Jungkook continues softly. He relaxes at Namjoon's nod.
"Yeah well let me help you with that," Namjoon replies just as softly, and he shifts so Jungkook's arm is strewn over his shoulder.
Namjoon takes on much of Jungkook's weight, slowly walking them the few steps to Jungkook's front door. Jungkook keys in the passcode for his front door to unlock with shaky fingers, taking much longer than usual for his front door to click open.
As they make their way to Jungkook's couch, Jungkook doesn't even have the energy to feel embarrassed by the messiness of his space. There are various textbooks over the floor and the coffee table looks like a battleground between sketches of skies and sketches of streets. The sketches might bury the natural wood of the table, but the paint on the floor? The once light grey carpet looks like someone's taken a bucket of paint and just thrown it everywhere.
Jungkook feels Namjoon looking around the space as he settles next to Jungkook on the couch.
"You've been working so hard, huh?" Namjoon says, not at all judgemental like Jungkook had expected.
"I- yeah."
Namjoon nods and runs a hand through Jungkook's long hair. His fingers get stuck in the tangles and Jungkook knows there's probably some paint and grease on his fingertips now.
"I have a meeting," Namjoon says softly, slowly pushing Jungkook back onto the couch. "So I can't stay. But let me order you some food to arrive after your nap, is that okay?"
Jungkook can't help it. He can't help the way tears immediately gather in the eyes and spill down his cheeks. He should be embarrassed honestly, but between the headache and the blurry vision, he can't find it within himself to worry about something else.
Namjoon's eyes go wide at the tears, and he's pulling Jungkook back up into a seated position and then pulling him into a tight hug before Jungkook can take another breath.
"Hey, you're okay. It's okay."
"Sorry," Jungkook replies, hating how upset he sounds. "It's stupid, you should get to your meeting."
"No, let me stay. I can reschedule the meeting, you clearly need someone," Namjoon breaks the hug to get his phone out, presumably to reschedule his meeting and Jungkook feels completely dumbfounded.
Jungkook isn't used to someone doing this for him. Whatever this is, it overwhelms him, has Jungkook choking on tears and emotion he hasn't ever been prepared to deal with. He was content and familiar with the life of tears that refused to shed, emotion buried deep down with nobody to hold him, and yet here Namjoon is. Namjoon shows Jungkook an ounce of kindness and Jungkook cries and cries, letting his emotion get the better of him.
Namjoon holds his hand.
"You don't mind me staying, do you?" Namjoon asks, squeezing Jungkook's good hand, and Jungkook sees an ounce of insecurity in Namjoon's expression. Vulnerable like the skin trying to heal over Jungkook's knuckles.
"I'd love for you to stay," Jungkook replies, softly.
To see the insecurity replaced with the dimples Jungkook's come to dream about has butterflies fluttering away in his stomach.
Namjoon settles on the couch and gently pulls Jungkook into his side, Jungkook doesn't miss the release of breath from Namjoon when Jungkook rests his head on his chest.
"I'll order us something big and greasy to eat," Namjoon says, turning on the TV. "Feel free to nap, though. You need it, okay?"
Jungkook nods against his chest, eyes fixated on the tv, begging himself to not blink because he knows more tears will fall. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Namjoon replies. "Though you don't need to thank me for caring about you."
Jungkook sits up abruptly, shocking both himself and Namjoon.
"Caring about me?" he questions lamely. Of course Namjoon was caring, but Jungkook hadn't registered, he hadn't considered it like the oblivious idiot he is. Caring...about him?
"I care about you, Jungkook," Namjoon replies. His voice is level, eyes serious, like he knows Jungkook has just had some intense revelation poured over him like cold water. "I care."
"Oh," Jungkook says, nodding as unforgiving tears gather in his eyes once more. As much as he had once begged for tears to fall, he's quickly getting annoyed with their incessant need to blur his vision every single time Namjoon does something nice.
Namjoon doesn't comment on Jungkook's strange reaction, instead he opens his arms wide and allows Jungkook to settle back against him, letting him drift off into a much-needed nap, in the arms of someone that cares for him.