panorama: a broad view, usually scenic

Exhausted, but Jungkook's heart still beats with something akin to excitement. And it’s nothing Yoongi can’t see.

It’s been close to two months since they’ve began to be more selective with their prospective projects. They’re no longer a broke pair with no funding. Neither are they very much well known, but at least they’ve come to a point where they no longer have to live day to day.

It’s also been nearly two months since Yoongi's seen the light return to Jungkook's eyes when they’re behind a camera. The younger clutches to his old Nikon as if a lifeline. Jungkook's a sentimental person, Yoongi's grown to learn. He holds onto any fragment of his past with a ferocity, despite his repeated claims to be nonchalant.

Jungkook turns, then, in that moment. Flashes Yoongi a wide grin.

Yoongi gives him a thumbs’ up from where he’s editing their latest photoshoot. “Nine o’clock, kid. Head on home.”

This time, Jungkook doesn’t argue.

It’s nearly eleven in the morning when Jungkook steps into the ER with two takeout cups of Starbucks. He can already tell that it’s one of those days where nothing much happens, since he can see Jimin sitting on one of the bedside chairs, nodding off with his phone still wrapped loosely in his fingers.

Jungkook almost doesn’t manage to save it.

“Whoa,” he murmurs as Jimin startles awake. The older blinks at Jungkook, face blank, until his phone lights up and he makes a noise at the back of his throat, grabbing it from Jungkook where it’s clutched in Jungkook's hand . “Yes, that’s right.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, setting the coffees down onto the table beside them. “It nearly faced its death. Not even your medical degree will save it, then.”

“Thank you,” Jimin breathes out, staring down at his phone in wonder. Dramatic. “I can’t imagine being on call on a Sunday, and breaking my phone on top of that. There’s only so much I can take.”

They sit in silence for a while, sipping on their drinks. There’s a strange comfort Jungkook finds in the sterile white of the hospital, a distinct odour of antiseptic and disinfectant in the air. Jimin breathes in through tired lungs, his shirt rumpled beneath his doctor’s coat.

Jungkook would have stayed longer, but Jimin's phone lights up again, and a look akin to panic flickers over his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Kook. Maybe you should leave already,” Jimin makes to stand, stretching with a quiet groan. “God, I’m so tired. So much to do.”

Pretending to be offended, Jungkook gets up too, pushing the chair back to where he’d pulled it over from. “I brought coffee, how dare you send me away?”

Jimin snorts, eyes pulling up into twin crescents as he reaches over to pinch Jungkook's cheek (much to Jungkook's horror). “Sorry. You know I love you, but I’m just so busy.”

“Bye,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, straightening out his jacket.

“When are you free?” Jimin calls out to him as Jungkook's walking out of the ER.

“I have tomorrow off.”

Jimin grins, shooting finger guns in Jungkook's direction. “Lunch on me tomorrow, I’ll pick you up!”

Jungkook flips him off, laughing.

Going home to an empty apartment is still no good, but Jungkook will admit that it’s no longer as lonely now that he looks forward to waking up the next day. Everything is clockwork, as it has always been, but at least, Jungkook reckons, he gets to set the clock.

All of Taehyung's polaroids line the wall right beside the door, so Jungkook gets to see them the moment he toes off his shoes. It had been a great idea when Jungkook had first thought of it, hyping himself up by looking at Taehyung's mail.

Over half a year later, though, Jungkook can’t say that it’s still excitement he feels when his gaze wanders over to the photos. He lets his eyes linger for a little while longer, then turns away with a sigh. Sets the heater for a shower. Sets his heart for another night of aching.

(“Come home to me.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”)

Taehyung calls that night.

It’s not that Jungkook isn’t expecting it, per se. He’s laying in bed, head resting on his hands as he spaces out at the ceiling. Every inhales seems to grate his lungs as the air draws in, like sandpaper. Like breathing in a sandstorm.

Jungkook honestly doesn’t know why he feels this tired all the time, but he thinks it better than having too much time, and nothing to do.

He answers the call with a quiet, “hey, babe.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you, darling.” Taehyung's voice is low, washes like warm low tide over Jungkook's restlessness.

A small smile quirks up at the side of Jungkook's lips, unknowing but familiar. “Mm, and what if you did?”

He misses this, the playful banter. The fondness that bubbles up in Jungkook's chest when Taehyung laughs, even though his voice is riddled with static. The feedback is lesser tonight, Jungkook notes with a tint of relief.

“I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

Taehyung likes to talk, and Jungkook likes to listen. So Taehyung does, he tells Jungkook about Kumamoto. A quiet city, Taehyung muses. There’s a hint of longing in his voice, and Jungkook briefly wonders if Taehyung has left the city already. Kumamoto is a sleepy city, chocked full of nostalgia.

“They still have railways,” and Taehyung tends to lower his voice when he’s excited. Jungkook drinks it all in. “You have to pull a numbered ticket out of the machine, and pay the conductor when you exit at your station.”

“Yeah?”

“It gave me Spirited Away vibes.”

Jungkook chuckles, knowing. “Ah, you’re trying to hint something at me, aren’t you?” He plays with the corner of his blanket, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

“How clever. I’m just saying we should come here together sometime.”

“Mm.”

“I visited Suizenji Garden,” Taehyung continues, unaffected. “So pretty. I could see you in every picture I took. You’ll love the place, I just know it.”

There it is again, a tug in Jungkook's chest. Wanting, wanting, wanting. He tries to push it down, replies with a shaky laugh. I miss you, Jungkook wants to say into every quiet buffer during the call. I wish I could be there too.

“Are you feeling all right?”

Jungkook swallows, murmurs, “of course.”

Taehyung seems to perk up again at that, and Jungkook listens to him. He listens to Taehyung until his words start to slur together, until Taehyung eventually dozes off. Jungkook lays in bed, listening to the steady breathing filtering through the call.

An hour later, he whispers, “goodnight, Taehyung,” and hangs up.

(“Let me be selfish for a while longer. I’ll tell you when I come home.”)

True to his word, Jimin comes to pick Jungkook up at his apartment the next day.

Jimin is loud, not that Jungkook doesn’t know, since Jimin was the one who had heroically bothered Jungkook awake for senior year lectures and tutorials. Helpful and appreciated, but undoubtedly annoying. The doorbell rings in quick succession, with hardly a second between them.

When Jungkook wrenches the door open, he’s dressed in his sweats and a rumpled shirt, his hair s