final;

jungkook dreams of flowers on his lips, tasting like sunrise with dusty pink on the surface. he dreams of prismic light, catching in his hair, catching in his teeth.

he wakes suddenly, and he wakes knowing that the lingering feeling on his skin and mouth are more real than the visions that are slipping away from the back of his eyelids. blinking in the muted darkness, he sits shakily up from the stickiness of the leather couch and winces at the creaking of his bones.

but all heavy tiredness vanishes when a slight movement at his feet catches his attention.

in the half-dusk, jimin is sitting there, back pressed up against the low coffee table, round eyes trembling and wide behind his hand covering his mouth.

"jimin?"

jungkook's voice is quiet yet jimin still starts at his own name.

"jimin," jungkook tries again, resisting the crushing want to move closer. "are you ― " but he stops himself.

the disjointed pieces are tumbling to place now, slotting together and aligning into an idea, a chance, a possibility... but could he? dare he?

taking a fluttering breath, jungkook wets his lips and whispers in the cotton folds of the night, "jimin, did... did you...?" he almost doesn't want to finish the question. he is afraid that it'd break the fragile spell and he'd wake again, stealing and grasping at an escaping fantasy, far overplayed.

like aways jimin already knows. without breaking eye contact, the older drops his hand and nods, "jungkook, I―"

but the presence, the use of his name, the confirmation that jimin is here, and had kissed him ― like just had he dreamed, as he remembered ― is all, is sufficient, is enough.

the rest of jimin's words are drowned against jungkook's swooping lips and sweeping descent, tugging him closer by one hand at the small of jimin's waist and his other fingers finding solace against slanted jawlines.

between each hide-and-seek and reckless kiss, jungkook murmurs jimin's name, each touch, each sound, each distorted downward gaze into round eyes, more and more desperate as his exhalations shorten and run out. and jimin's resolve dissolves beneath the passion and leaves him clinging to jungkook's sleeves and collar, panting into the spaces, submitting totally to jungkook.

even though jungkook is the one on his knees, chasing jimin's lips and compressing jimin further, further back until he's backing the older against the wall, he's the one suffocating. smothered  by the mere moment, never letting their bodies separate, even for an instant. and jungkook's is already intoxicated off the scent of jimin that's been haunting his dreams for far too long. stiflingly drunk off the sound and feeling of their shallow breaths mixing in the twilight that steals at their windows. their heavy gasps are becoming coughs and it's thick and suffocating, like his ribcage is collapsing in on itself. he wonders if this is what it’s like to choke on his own lungs, but he doesn’t care, just keeps wanting more, more, more

but...

but something...

something silky catches in between his teeth and jungkook is so shocked that he jerks back and lets jimin go. and the sleek material drifts into his disbelieving palm.

it's a flower, feathery, loose, and shaped like a bird.

and jungkook has never seen a color as cold or heartless as those white petals, tattered and frayed in more ways than one.

"no..." he falls artlessly back onto the floor, blinking