Some things are better left untouched like Yoongi’s cherished program Cubase (“You touch it, you die. You think of opening it, you die. You try to mess with it, you die,” Yoongi has hissed after numerous hours of trying to install it) or Seokjin’s receipts (“I’ll never cook for any of you. Ever!” and in that moment of silence while the thought of not eating delicious meals settled in their minds, everybody knew that Seokjin wasn’t joking) but some things can be touched and over the months Jungkook has learnt how to hide his traces of doing such activity. That’s why he knows about the secret collection of Taeyang’s photographs Jimin has hidden under his mattress or the notebooks with rated lyrics Namjoon hides in the bottom drawer of his work desk. But not only that, Jungkook knows everybody’s passwords to all social networks and their personal accounts and even through he was tempted way too many times to change their information to something more swaggy and in spirit of hip-hop, he never did it. Because he’s good (and because Hoseok’s password is unicorns4life and Jungkook simply doesn’t have the heart to change it).
So it happens that during one of those free days they get once in a while when Yoongi hibernates for 48 hours and Taehyung gets up in the dawn to go to park and feed pigeons or something like that, Jungkook stumbles upon a peculiar folder hidden in the Program Files of Namjoon’s laptop. What he was searching for is no longer important as the folder neatly named nuclear fusion catches his attention. Few second later, after he’s made sure that nobody’s watching him, he double clicks on the folder to see its contents.
Half an hour and many head tilts later, Jungkook closes Namjoon’s laptop, his mouth dry and cheeks red, and too many vivid images in his head that he’s not sure whether he wants to forget. (He promises himself that he’ll try to forget all about it but when Namjoon comes home and grabs his laptop, Jungkook gets out of the room just to be safe.)
Soon, curiosity takes the best of him and Jungkook starts to wonder whether his other hyungs have similar folders. He makes a plan how to access all their laptops, one at a time.
“For education,” he mumbles to himself as he logs in Seokjin’s laptop and heads to the familiar location on the D disc but sadly he finds nothing there and frowns upon realizing that he spent last 15 minutes looking through cooking tutorials. He’s about to turn it off when a folder on the desktop catches his attention. “Japanese cat cupcakes and whipped cream,” he reads out loud as the content of the said folder starts to reveal itself. Jungkook never again wears cat ears that fans usually give them at the fansign.
Yoongi’s overly protective of his laptop and carries it always with himself. There are too many songs that he’s working on and that can’t be lost under any circumstances, so Jungkook preys the chance to get a hang of it far longer then he thought he’d have to. But when he finally gets the desired chance is mostly thanks to Jimin and his whining about outside being too dark to walk alone and Yoongi goes out with him leaving his laptop in the production room. Cracking Yoongi’s code is easy and when Jungkook logs in, he doesn’t even have to search for that one particular folder. In the middle of the desktop, folder conveniently named not porn waits for everybody. Jungkook grins like a Cheshire cat and skims through the files. When he leaves the production room, he needs a good biology textbook because “how that position is even humanly possible”.
Taehyung’s documents are full of cat photos and videos and just cat related things, there’s a big number of their photos and few folders dedicated to manga and anime and Jungkook almost loses all his hope of finding something that he could use to blackmail Taehyung with when he notices a folder with heart icon named sunshine and rainbows. “This is it,” Jungkook devilishly smiles and double clicks. His hopes disappear when he sees that folder is full of Hoseok’s smiling photos. “Fuck this,” he slams the laptop shut before getting up from the sofa and heading towards the toilet to puke rainbows.
aghgh the vhope, i’m dying x_x <3
Black and white photographs scattered on the floor. They’re smiling in each of them, they’re laughing in monochrome and Seokjin runs his fingers over the glossy surface of the paper. They’re caught in the free second between night and dawn, still frame of happiness and sweet dreams, wishes upon too many falling stars, coins tossed in fountains, and careless decisions.
His eyes follow familiar patterns on pictures, Yoongi is barely visible on some of them, his existence slowly fading away, reduced to washed-out memories. Seokjin gathers the photos in the hands, there are too little of them, they’re neatly placed on his palms, they’re all in monochrome because Yoongi always said that colors are not for people like him, that vibrant tones of warm palettes are for people like Seokjin, full of life, of happiness and too many unspoken words hidden in timid smiles and trembling lips.
Yoongi’s fingers are knobby; the camera resting between them is heavy but he lifts it up like many times before. Seokjin isn’t smiling, his hands covered with orange paint, ugly beige and lifeless white behind his back. Their small apartment is nothing but vertical lines and empty walls, there are no photographs, no furniture and Seokjin frowns when the paint drips on his shirt. Yoongi observes but says nothing, taking picture after picture after picture of his boyfriend.
“How about you help me?” Seokjin asks.
“I’m helping you, I’m documenting this event,” Yoongi answers with a smile on his pale features and Seokjin hears the familiar click of the camera once again.
He splashes paint on Yoongi and bright drops land on the camera lens.
“A bit of color,” he laughs. “Your photos are always in black and white.”
“The ones of you are always in color,” Yoongi responds and his voice is laced with so much Seokjin still doesn’t know.
He leaves it at this and turns his back to Yoongi, focusing once again on painting the walls with many cracks and many stories hidden in bricks and cement holding them in place.
Silk curtains are dancing on the spring breeze and through open windows Seokjin hears buzzing of life on the streets, children’s laughter and chatting of housewives on their way home. He listens to the cacophony of sounds, a small part of him hoping that among them he’ll hear the familiar voice, rough on edges yet warm in cold winter days when they sleep late and Yoongi plants butterfly kisses on his temples mumbling something about building a snowman.
Seokjin carefully listens but doesn’t hear it, all syllables foreign, all words losing their meaning as they disappear in thin air, as they decompose to letters and signs.
The photographs surrounding him tell too many different happy stories, Yoongi’s messy handwriting on their back – date, time and occasion scribbled in crooked letters. There are too many pictures of Seokjin and too little of Yoongi. Using his fingers, Seokjin can count all the photos of them together, all lines blurred, camera shaky in his unskilled hands, slight smile on Yoongi’s face, a bright one of his.
Yoongi is monochrome, precision and sharp outlines; he’s cold, black and white, blank canvas Seokjin has no right to paint on. And yet Seokjin wants him back, willing to trade all colors of the world for a still frame of perfection that Yoongi is.
love this pairing
Strategically, Jimin sets his alarm twenty minutes before everybody else’s because there’s no way that he’ll leave the dorm without showering or having breakfast four days in a row (all thanks to certain somebody he’d rather not name and no, it’s not Yoongi this time). He even decides to crash on the couch in the living room after he comes back from the dance practice just to be closer to the bathroom when he wakes up in four hours.
Along the way, he has learnt to survive on just few hours of sleep and he doesn’t complain about it (too much). Jimin checks his alarm once again before pulling the blanket up to his chin and drifting to the Dreamland where he meets Taeyang and grows taller thanks to some magical thing that can be only found in dreams.
Few hours later when the alarm goes off and Jimin slams his hand on the coffee table trying to find his phone among the empty snack packages and magazines and empty soda cans. It’s still too early, he thinks as he pulls blanket over his head, his phone tucked under the cushions so that it’s less loud when it rings again in less than five minutes. He’s about to fall asleep again when he hears the bedroom doors being opened and shuffling of feet on the floor. The footsteps are approaching the living room but they abruptly stop and Jimin can almost feel the hesitation of whoever has waken up. Then he hears a soft “thank you for wakening me up” and twisting of the doorknob and hell no, nobody will invade the shower before him so he tosses the blanket and jumps off the sofa but he’s too slow and the bathroom door close in front of his face. He slams his fists against the wooden surface.
“Jeon Jungkook!” he hisses (he wants to scream but grumpy Namjoon is prone to throwing random heavy things at whoever wakes him up and Jimin really isn’t in the mood for dodging baseball bats and rugby balls in the early morning).
There is no response and Jimin leans his head against the door. He can hear the running of water and he’s more than 100% sure that Jungkook will use all the hot water like he usually does. He hits the door once again, this time with more force, determined to make Jungkook hear him.
“Jeon Jungkook!” he growls. “I…” he begins but the door swings open and Jungkook looks at him with raised eyebrows.
“I ate 2130 more grains of rice than you,” he mimics Jimin’s voice. “I know that already. You tell me that every single day.”
“And now you’re going to demand that I call you hyung. Am I right or am I right?” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest and knowingly looks at Jimin who seems shorter than he really is. Jimin glares back at him.
“Taller than you,” Jungkook deadpans. “Hyung,” he adds with a smile Jimin isn’t sure whether it’s mocking.
“And now you want to shower and guess what? I’ll let you because I had to pee and not to shower.” Jungkook slightly pushes Jimin who stumbles backwards and then he gets out of the bathroom. “Enjoy your shower, hyung,” he says heading to the bedroom and Jimin looks after him for few seconds before getting in the shower and turning on the water. Hot water hits his back and burns his skin and he yells “I swear to God, I’ll kill you, Jungkook!”
Muffled laughter can be heard from the bedroom.