Min Yoongi often wondered how damn in love he had to be to accept such an unfair deal with himself. Almost two years, two damn years where he settled for thirty minutes of wet kisses and desperate caresses that culminated in the fleeting ecstasy of an orgasm; moments later, all he would feel was the great emptiness in his being the instant Jin decided to get up and return once again to reality, leaving him between the cold sheets with his soul a little broken.
"We'll see each other in the morning, rest."
Those were the words with which the older used to say goodbye: monotonous and routine, but always causing so much pain. Each farewell was nothing more than a way to keep digging a hole deeper and wider in his heart, a hole that he couldn't soothe with anything other than Kim Seokjin. Fuck, he desperately longed to find another solution or, to be more precise, someone else who could love him for hours, days, weeks, months, years—forever—because that was how he wanted to be loved.
Loved by him.
He had tried several times, pushing his limits, attending parties and gatherings in search of that spark, that fervent emotion that would rescue him from his lamentable reality. Begging for that caress that would bring him to his knees and that could finally push him to say those words that would free him from so much sadness. He didn't succeed, no matter how hard he tried; he couldn't find anything in the unfamiliar faces, let alone in their touch and, therefore, in their words, because in the end, his mind always returned to one person, one damn person.
Pathetic —he thought to himself.
Once again, he tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find himself. He was sure he had been trying to fall asleep for about two hours, but his mind didn't seem to want to leave him alone on this particular night, bringing back the same thoughts about Jin over and over again. Finally, he chose to get up and head to the kitchen, where he poured himself some whiskey.
He grimaced after the first swallow, the liquid like fire in his throat. The second offered no reprieve, leaving a bitterness that coated his tongue and settled heavy in his gut. He continued, each attempt futile, until a sense of disorientation crept in. Unable to face the swirling emptiness within, he pushed himself from the chair, drawn to the beckoning darkness of the balcony. The cool night air promised solace, a chance to escape the suffocating confines of his thoughts.
The icy air whipped against his arms, sending shivers dancing down his spine. He braced against the railing, watching the city sprawl beneath him like a tapestry woven from twinkling lights and silent shadows. Somewhere out there, in that labyrinth of concrete and glass, did another soul grapple with the same darkness? Did another heart twist in the grip of a forbidden yearning? The numbers seemed meaningless, lost in the immensity of the urban sprawl, could be a hundred, a thounsand, just a few. Yet, the thought clung to him, a fragile lifeline in the tempest raging within. He closed his eyes, picturing those unseen strangers, each battling. Silently, he wished them a sanctuary that would bring them tranquility, the purest and most healing tranquility in the hurricane of emotions that enveloped them.
The question coiled in Yoongi's mind: did Jin carry the same ache he did? But the answer hung heavy in his heart, a familiar weight he'd carried for years. No, Jin's pain was a different thing, born from unspoken dreams and unrequited desires. Yoongi had walked that path once, his yearning for something that would never be his. Now, witnessing Jin's silent struggle for Taehyung felt both alien and intimately familiar, a reflection he barely recognized. The sting of a love unvoiced, the cruel comfort of friendship when all you craved was something more, the suffocating knowledge that the future you envisioned existed only in the shadows of what could never be.
Jin's suffering was devastating, burning, and bitter, as Yoongi had seen him cry too many nights while clinging to him after drinking shot after shot, asking incessantly: Why? Why couldn't Taehyung feel the same? Why couldn't he love him if they had been through so much together? Why didn't he look at him with the same eyes if he had been there in every moment? What was he lacking? What was he excess of? What did he need?
