‘what’s the hardest thing for a person to do?’

jungkook remembers, when he was younger, being asked that question by his former kindergarten teacher. she was kind, and always spoke softly. she was constantly cooing like she was always dealing with the infants, the less-than-one-year-olds, even though jungkook was six and in first grade, and didn't feel much like a baby now that he was going to class.

she was soft, but she had this sterness about her that came out when she was upset, or scolding the other classmates for hiding the younger ones' lunchboxes where they could find them, but not reach them. with jungkook, she only ever had one tone. he was a quiet student, who rarely ever got in trouble. but he was still, back then, unbelievably stubborn. even so, when jungkook was being chastised for ruining another student's sandcastle even though it wasn't at all his fault (it was the casualty of his unfortunate fall, pushed by his friend a little too hard in their game of tag in the sandbox), she used the same cooing tone: 'what's the hardest thing for a person to do, jungkookie?' jungkook shrugged, because the hardest thing he'd ever done up until then was open a tough jar of pickles on his own (but he was a champion and he would back down to no challenge!). he really didn't know how to react when she said, 'apologize.'

of course, although begrudgingly at first, he apologized to the student and they got along very well from then on. (jimin was, and still is, a crybaby.) and because jungkook is competitive by nature, he would point out to his teacher that he apologized, and just because he didn't want to didn't make it hard.

if he could meet his teacher again, jungkook would ask if he could revise his answer. (even though his original answer was the nonchalant movement of his shoulder.) (again, because of his competitive personality.)

she would coo, 'what is the hardest thing for a person to do?' and his older self would reply, 'write.' (he's debating whether to count written apologyin that category.)

that is the hardest thing for him to do, anyway. he supposes he can't speak for everybody else. he wants to speak to people, not for them, metaphorically, through his words, what he understands of them.

'don't you understand how jiminnie feels?'

he didn't.

'what if it had been your sandcastle, jungkookie?'

it wasn't, and until someone accidentally destroys his sandcastle, he would never know how it feels. and maybe that's why jungkook's writing is so flawed, so lacking: because what he wants to write about, he's never experienced.

jungkook has done some crazy things for the sake of writing. "crazy" as in out-of-his-comfort-zone crazy. he once had a character, in a long-ago archived story, smoke for the first time, and prior to that he had no account of what it really felt like to consume. he asked a friend-of-a-friend to take him through it, to have a taste, and now he knows what it means when he said, 'it's like being drunk without the hangover afterwards, or the complete loss of control during the trip.' he knows what it's like to have his world tilting in the most pleasurable of ways, and to find everything anyone says funny, to laugh too loudly, to feel like his blood is ten times lighter and flowing through him just a little faster; to feel it immediately after the first hit, then the second, then the third. (he tried to make it sound as poetic as possible, before he moved the file to his "other"-labeled folder.)

yoongi's eyes are closed when he clears his throat, like he'd been waiting for the right moment to say something, to interrupt his fast-churning thoughts. 'what have you learned," he says. he knows all about the things he's subjected himself to, like that time he almost got arrested with taehyung and namjoon, running from the police. 'from your experiences?'

jungkook shifts on the grass. he can feel it pricking his back through his thin t-shirt. yoongi had told him to bring a jacket. he didn't listen, of course, because this summer weather is way too hot, and now he regrets it. yoongi makes sure he regrets it, so he'll never doubt him again, by lying more comfortably on his varsity jacket. jungkook spitefully hopes the white sleeves come off green. he his lips. 'it's easier to write about my own experiences,' he says. yoongi knows, too, about that time jungkook loved someone, intensely, with all of him, only to get his heart broken, and be the cause of it. 'but it's also really ing hard.' there is no in-between, he thinks. and jungkook is starting to think he overestimates the use of personal experience - there are many times when he's had no words to really explain how he felt. then again, he at words. he isn't sure that cancels out.

yoongi considers this before he asks, 'what did you learn about people?' because writing, to some extent, is about understanding people, why they do the things they do in their situations.

jungkook takes a very long moment before he answers, squints at the sun briefly before he looks away. he didn't bring his sunglasses either. 'we're all stupid masses of carbon who do stupid things for the sake of other stupid things without really thinking.'

'flammable,' yoongi says, and he wonders aloud if jungkook is self-reflecting. jungkook responds there's no one he knows better than himself, and he feels kind of stupid for wanting to know about other people. maybe it's not other people at all he's trying to understand, but himself. he keeps that to himself, because it feels stupid, more stupid, considering what he's put himself through.

he hears he grass being ruffled, and throws his glance to the side without moving to watch his friend. yoongi rolls over to him, and then hovers over him, propped by an elbow, and jungkook thinks for a stupid second that he will kiss him. yoongi’s eyes are sharp, looking right at him, into him, through him, with a carefully neutral expression. jungkook doesn’t know what it means. 'i think you're brave," yoongi says lowly.

'brave?'

'for doing the things you do, and doing the things you did, for the sake of writing." he burrows his face in the crook of jungkook's neck, now half lying on him, arm resting on his chest. his hand is against his cheek, which he's buried in his neck, and jungkook can feel he tips of his fingers pressed flush against his skin. as if it wasn't hot enough. now he's going to sweat under his fingers. he makes no move to push him off. instead jungkook shifts to better accomodate their position, then tentatively wraps his arms around yoongi’s middle, his hair tickling his chin, and yoongi lets him and he's confused, because yoongi is never exceptionally affectionate, but it's nice.

'i don't think that's brave at all. it's stupid, really.' yoongi chuckles, and he can feel his warm breath on his skin.

'stupidly brave.' he presses a kiss to his neck, and jungkook's brain physically hiccups. he’s too scared to ask him why he did that. jungkook isn’t sure if yoongi is aware that he’d done it, but dimisses the thought. everything yoongi says and does is deliberate. he wants to leave it at that, at not knowing, so they do. and jungkook thinks it’s funny, maybe a little ironic, that he’ll set fire to an abandoned building just to see how fast everything can disappear, but not ask his friend why he’s leaving kisses on him (yoongi knows about that, too, the building on fire), or what it means. maybe it doesn’t mean anything. he's terrible at reading people, too.

they lied on the grass in a weird position but a comfortable silence, and eventually shift to take a proper nap, yoongi still stuck to jungkook's side and jungkook still holding him.