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Jungkook likes to think there’s more to everything than there really is. It keeps his mind occupied for all of the hours he spends staring out of the window, taking in the gradients of the sky as the sun sets, getting totally and utterly lost in his feelings. Oranges, yellows and light pinks bleed into scarlet and die off in an indigo mist, signaling night is falling soon. Another night spent alone wandering in his endless dreamland. He hears the waves crashing up onto the rocks at the shore as the sun dips down below the horizon. Maybe everything has a backstory to it, something that defines it more than what’s taken at face value. What if the sun stayed out forever? What if there was no night? Everything would be exposed then; his infatuation with Namjoon, the things they do in that tent on the beach. Namjoon is older, matured, and as free as the wind itself. Jungkook is envious. He’s boring, distracted, staring at nothing but thinking about everything all at once. He’s young, sensitive, inexperienced.

Namjoon sweeps through Jungkook’s life like a summer breeze, warm and pleasant. Jungkook wishes he could say it was easy, but that would be a lie.

Mom is gone in a second, not even sitting down to appreciate the small meal Jungkook threw together for the two of them. He sighs, barely even surprised at any of it. This is how it goes, she leaves for the weekend with the boyfriend she’s using for his car, leaving Jungkook to fend for himself. It’s fine, Jungkook thinks to himself. He sits down at the table, propping his chin up on his folded hands and sighs into the silence. The moonlight spills through the open window, mixing in the room with the incandescent light bulbs. It’s an easy decision. Jungkook pushes himself back from the table and stands, turning off the kitchen light and storming out of the front door. The meal stays untouched, bound to go cold in a few hours’ time. Namjoon’s house is just down the street and Jungkook doesn’t need to spend another pathetic weekend alone, wishing mommy would come home.

“It’s Jungkook.” Jimin calls as he opens the door, eyes crinkling into tiny slits when he smiles. Jungkook returns the smile unenthusiastically. Namjoon comes barreling down the stairs and swings into the kitchen. “Do you want some lemonade? Mom and I just made it today.”

“I’m fine, but thanks, Jimin.”

Jungkook steps in, trying to avoid Jimin’s gaze by looking down at the floor. He has to look up when he hears heavy footsteps barreling down the stairs. Namjoon looks brooding, black eyeliner from the day smudged underneath his eyes carelessly. His eyes look even deeper. With his slim arms exposed by a white v-neck, he pulls open the fridge and takes out the jug of orange juice. Tight fitting jeans hug at his legs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Jungkook has seen it all before, though, having become familiar with Namjoon’s body. He’s teasing, sending glances to Jungkook, making his breath catches in his throat. It’s so subtle, the way Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the glass as he pulls it from the cabinet. The same way his fingers wrapped around Jungkook’s–

“–staying the night?”

Jungkook blinks, bringing his mind back from the brink of his dirty thoughts. Namjoon is looking at him, eyebrow raised curiously as he sips at his juice. Jimin stands in front of the sink, arms crossed in front of his chest, but eyes soft and caring. He hates the contrast between the brothers. Both of them stare at Jungkook, waiting. This isn’t the time, nor the place for his thoughts of Namjoon’s bare skin.

“What?” Jungkook asks.

“Are you staying the night?” Namjoon’s deep voice rumbles through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his core outwards. Jimin shifts his weight from one foot to the other but still wears his default pleasant look. Jungkook blinks, nodding quickly. He throws in a smile because he doesn’t know what else to do. It feels so awkward under both of their gazes, Namjoon and his intense stare, ready to pounce on him at any given moment. But Jimin is so innocent, gentle, and hesitant. They’re brothers, Namjoon and Jimin, yet they’re totally opposite. Jungkook is caught in the middle.

“Who’s downstairs?” A familiarly warm voice floats into the room, followed by a tall slim woman whose voice suits her appearance perfectly. She smiles, tiny lines appearing around and eyes. “Hi Jungkook.”

Jungkook smiles, giving a small bow. He feels so awkward.

“Is your mother at home?” She asks and she sounds so innocent, so kind and loving but Jungkook’s smile fails him. He finds himself looking at the ground, at his lips. “Oh, well you can stay the night if you would like to. You all could sleep in the living room and–“

“Actually, Jungkook and I are sleeping outside in the tent.” Namjoon cuts off his mother, setting his glass in the sink. He pats Jimin’s head, making the younger boy pout. Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see the hurt look on Jimin’s face and instead focuses on his heart picking up its speed. Alone. With Namjoon. In a tent on the beach. All night. He can practically feel Namjoon’s fingers ghosting over his heated skin. It makes him dizzy.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jungkook says, but he feels like he’s choking.

“Jungkook, are you tired?” Namjoon asks, his voice muffled by his pillow. Jungkook feels small lying next to a half- Namjoon. Feels as immature as he looks. No, he isn’t tired. In fact, his mind is buzzing, anticipating. Namjoon hasn’t touched him at all, from when they were up in his room grabbing blankets off of the beds and up to now. It’s desperate, the way Jungkook has a dying desire to feel Namjoon.

“No.” He says it simply, almost in a whisper. Outside, the waves crash onto the rocks and the warm night breeze passes by them, rocking the tent gently. There’s a rock in the sand that stabs into Jungkook’s back and he tries to ignore it. He wants to focus on Namjoon, wants to know everything about him.

“I want to know what makes you happy,” Jungkook had said at the start of the summer. It was the start of something light and fleeting, this little fling with Namjoon. It seemed easier, just a few weeks ago. Back then, Jungkook wasn’t desperately in love with someone he could never have. He didn’t have to deal with the heartache of Namjoon not reciprocating his childish feelings. Back then, he was just curious and there was nothing wrong with that.

“I want to know what makes you sad. Or excited. Or even embarrassed. I want to know what turns you on.” Jungkook was talking more to himself than Namjoon as they sat on the beach on a sunny Friday, just relaxing in spite of each other. He was lost in his own thoughts, briefly. Maybe he was questioning himself more than Namjoon.

“Writing makes me happy,” Namjoon said suddenly, softly. “I can lose myself in my own words and I don’t have to come back if I don’t want to. No one can force me.”

He sighs, chucking a stick out into the water. “And I get sad when my mom is sick. Mom gets sick more often than I like.” Jungkook had looked at him, seeing a look he had never seen on Namjoon’s face before. He looked confused, lost, and defeated. It was the closest Jungkook ever got to finally break Namjoon.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon says deeply. Jungkook gasps, turning his head to look. He has to blink and remind himself that it’s nighttime. He’s in a tent, on a beach, lying next to a half- Namjoon. This isn’t their slightly intimate conversation on the beach with the sun exposing all of their dirty deeds. This isn’t the beginning of the summer when Jungkook wasn’t in love. It’s not that simple anymore.

“What?”

“Come here.”

Namjoon props himself up on his elbow and Jungkook rises from his back, mirroring Namjoon. It goes silent between the two of them, Jungkook’s breath going shallow. He his lips, mind beginning to buzz again. His eyes flit down to Namjoon’s lips, which are coming closer to his own. Quickly, his eyes dart back up to Namjoon’s. Suddenly, he feels lost. The two of them are drawing closer together until their lips barely touch each other’s. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Namjoon has touched over Jungkook’s entire body, leaving none of his skin unmarked. Fingers and hands have traveled all the way down to touch each other, but never have they kissed before. This is uncharted territory.

They tease each other for just a few seconds, Namjoon’s eyelashes flitting against Jungkook’s burning hot cheek. Neither of them are quite sure if they want to do this, but their eyes slip closed anyways. Jungkook’s lips burn when they press against Namjoon’s and his heart is pounding loudly in his ears. It’s slow at first, consisting of tentative and careful movements. Namjoon is surprisingly gentle in cradling Jungkook’s jaw, tilting his head to the side for better access. Slowly, Namjoon’s hand slides behind Jungkook’s head, pulling him in closer. Jungkook shifts his body closer and grabs at Namjoon’s shoulder for support. His fingers land on Namjoon’s skin and he’s surprised to find that Namjoon’s heart is racing just as fast as Jungkook’s.

He wants, he wants everything so badly. There’s a chance that Namjoon could love Jungkook as much as Jungkook loves Namjoon. It doesn’t have to be forever, but just for awhile. Just long enough for Jungkook to prove to himself that he isn’t totally alone in the world. They could be happy, having quiet moments by the pond and quick kisses on the edge of the water. Their intimate encounters could have more meaning to them, not just quick s that leave Jungkook wondering if he’s capable of being loved.

“This can just be for us,” Namjoon whispers as he pulls back momentarily, “And no one has to know.” He pulls Jungkook’s shirt over his head, placing his lips onto his neck. Jungkook opens his eyes, just the slightest bit. It stings, Namjoon’s words do, but he’s already too far gone. A gasp almost leaves him when Namjoon hands begins to slide downwards, towards his pants. Jungkook stares up at the ceiling of the tent, wishing he could see the stars, wishing he could tell the sky of his aching heart. He wishes it could rain to wash away all of the evidence of his childish unrequited love.

Jungkook liked to think that the key Namjoon handed to him was the key to his heart. It was the middle of the summer when Jungkook found himself falling for the older boy, slowly, slowly. Namjoon banged on his door, sending a loud sound all through the house. Jungkook appeared in the doorway in a second totally unable to hide his smile, just like a little kid.

“Hey Namjoon.”

“Is your mom home?” His smile faltered a bit. Of course she’s not at home, Jungkook thought bitterly to himself, but he shook his head instead. He kept it all to himself.

“Not now, no.”

“Here,” Namjoon took Jungkook’s hand, opened it, and placed something into his palm. It’s cold against his skin and hard. Jungkook opened his mouth, but Namjoon spoke first. “Before you ask, it’s a key. It’s just something, an escape. I don’t know.”

“I don’t –“

“Because,” Namjoon sighed, shoving his hands in his pocket without speaking. Jungkook looked at him, seeing that same look again. It almost looked like Namjoon wanted to go deeper and know more about Jungkook. He looked like he cares, or pretended that he did.

“Because?” Jungkook whispered.

“You shouldn’t be alone all the time.”

But Jungkook read it too deeply. He made it more than it had to be, because it’s all that he had. The look on Namjoon’s face faded away, like he was trying to hide it. Everything went back to being how it’s supposed to be, Jungkook being another little kid hopelessly in love and Namjoon as his heartbreaker.

It was silent, save for the birds and waves in the background, between the two of them. Jungkook looked out to the water to avoid Namjoon’s eyes. He didn’t want to see what lied behind them. When he looked up, after what felt like hours later, he saw Namjoon turning to walk away. Jungkook almost panicked. He gripped the key tighter in his hand. Couldn’t he make this moment last longer? He could just pretend, just for a little while.

He could hear it, he could hear the sound of his own voice calling Namjoon back. He could see himself screaming to the skies how much he loves Namjoon and he wouldn’t care who the hell heard him. But he didn’t. Jungkook kept it all pent up inside of himself. He pathetically watched Namjoon walk away. He kept his grip firm around the key, letting the teeth bite into his flesh. He wanted to let it go, but it felt like that’s all he had left of Namjoon, all he’s ever been given. And no matter how much he dug, he could never get more.

Jungkook likes to think there’s more to everything than there really is. It keeps his mind from sinking in thoughts of Namjoon. He likes to look at the sky and try to tell its stories. Indigo and lilacs turn into faded pinks and dark oranges with traces of black. The sun is rising again, out to reveal everything once again. It slowly creeps along the horizon, bringing along its orange glow. The waves are calm against the shore, like they’re being thoughtful to those asleep. Jungkook is thankful for the night. He can close his eyes and become lost behind them. No one has to bring him back or find him.

Namjoon sweeps through Jungkook’s life like a summer breeze, warm and pleasant. It’s blissful and nice but he damages Jungkook like the thunderstorm he is. And now Jungkook is ruined beyond repair.

dude, I hate when this freaking text thing doesn't have the indentations like I want them to! but thank you for reading!