JUST LIKE HEAVEN / BTS.

[♦] you give me the best of me.

you give me
the best of me.

TAGS: namgiseok / triggering themes: anorexia/bulimia, mentions of weed & xanax use, detailed vomiting / homophobic slurs / angst and fluff / recovery from anorexia / mentions of relapsing / comforting / shitty family members / happy ending / longshot.
PLAYLIST: idontwannabeyouanymore / billie eilish, answer: love myself / bts, serendipity / jimin, that's okay / D.O, magic shop / bts.

NOTES another long one uwu this is LORGE && this is for stormieee aka tsundoki, hope u enjoy love!

( 💫 )

NERVOUS FINGERNAILS SCRATCH at the pale skin of a tummy that used to be non-existent, sunken, as if nothing resided within the confines of the boy's body. the full, rounded flesh is now soft to the touch, and a gentle hand moves the bitten fingernails from where they're carving red marks into the skin, the touch delicate and soft.

"baby, don't do that," gentle voice, gentle lips pressed to the back of his hand. yoongi smiles softly at his boyfriend, chewing on the inside of his cheek, allowing hoseok to intertwine their fingers. they're sat at a café in downtown busan, the quiet bustle of city life a nice sound to yoongi's ears. "hey, namjoon! over here!"

the tallest of the three boyfriends looks up at hoseok's voice, awkwardly carrying three coffee cups with a matching awkward smile. namjoon's attitude tends to be awkward; when you're a six foot tall, platinum haired gay man in korea, it's kind of hard not to stand out, in ways you don't want to. "okay," he smiles, sitting beside yoongi on the blue painted seat, pecking his cheek. "a soya latte for you, my baby, and a decaf mocha for you, my sunshine."

yoongi accepts his coffee, leaning into the warmth of namjoon's body. autumn wraps around them like a blanket, a little amount of sunlight filtered through the grey clouds overhead, all the three clad in warm coats. namjoon smells like cinnamon and sandalwood incense, warm and comforting, and yoongi loves how he's short enough to fit his head snuggly on namjoon's shoulder.

"you nervous about going to see your parents, baby?" namjoon asks, looking at him from the corner of his eye with a reassuring smile. yoongi bites at the inside of his cheek again, thinking back to running his nails over his tummy. he didn't have a pouch of fat there last time he saw his mum; he barely had enough flesh to pinch between two fingers, let alone an actual tummy.

"yeah, i- i really am, joon," yoongi sighs, sipping at his hot coffee. "mum never really... well. she doesn't know."

"doesn't know what?" asks hoseok, obviously unsure what yoongi's talking about. the black haired boy sighs, looking down at his thighs, that are also bigger than they were the last time his mum saw him.

"a-about my eating disorder. she just-she just thought i was on a health kick. she supported it! she made me salads and cottage cheese and helped me get those iron tablets from the doctor cause i cut meat out-" yoongi clenches his fist, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, feeling their eyes on him. "she doesn't even fucking know i made myself throw up every. goddamn. day. she doesn't know i'm bisexual, or that i'm dating two guys-fuck." he clutches at his hair in desperation.

yoongi's life before namjoon and hoseok had been, in quick summary, a shitshow. alcoholic dad who left when he was seven, an unhappy wine mum who remarried one, two, three, four times before he was nineteen, and, perhaps the worst of it all, from fifteen to eighteen, he was severely underweight, anorexic, bulimic, and suicidal.

fifteen was an odd, horrible year. freshman year of highschool-no one told you it'd be easy. but yoongi hadn't expected it to be this hard. it was the year of a homecoming dance that he went alone to, the weird, hip hop obsessed kid who didn't have any friends, who had barely even started puberty, sans the acne littering his face like a plague.