a/n: wut are dis?? not smut?? ummmmmmmmm, not exactly one-sided but kind of is??????? sugapark lol sorry i tried ;u; at least it’s kind of angsty?????

–

crack.

yoongi’s thoughts may still be thick and muddled by drowsiness, but he has a very clear idea of who might be knocking on his front door at three in the goddamn morning. he rolls over under his sheets, hoping that if he ignores it, it might go away. out of sight, out of mind.

but the knocking persists, getting faster and louder with every passing second. and yoongi has no choice but to drag himself out of bed, shuffling out of his room with a stream of curses slipping through his lips.

he doesn’t even bother to switch the lights on as he passes through the living room, unlatching the lock and swinging open the door with a little more force than is necessary.

“what do you…” yoongi starts, but the anger quickly fizzles out. the words he’d meant to spit out die on his lips as he comes face to face with a haggard looking jimin dressed in nothing more than a thin t-shirt and jeans, arms clutched around his chest as if he’s trying to hold himself together from falling apart, thin tracks of drying tears crusting white against his skin, and an angry purple bruise blossoming across the apple of his cheek that has yoongi automatically moving forward and crushing him into a hug.

crack.

“what happened?” yoongi whispers into jimin’s hair, tugging him in closer to his chest. but he doesn’t think he really wants to know.

this isn’t the first time jimin had shown up at his front in the godforsaken hours of the early morning, a fresh collection of bumps and bruises decorating somewhere new every single time.

yoongi tries to make him stop, put an end to whatever dangerous game of push and shove jimin is playing with whoever the fuck his name is, that asshole. but nothing yoongi says ever seems to work.

just for the night, jimin will agree to stay, decide that he’s finally had enough and he’ll leave him.

he’ll be strong, he can do this.

crack.

but come the morning light, jimin will disappear along with the darkness. and yoongi will wake up cold and alone in his bed again, everything back to square one, nothing will have changed.

yoongi knows this isn’t healthy for not only jimin, but also for himself. but he can’t stop. 

jimin isn’t the only one addicted.

yoongi has tried to cut him out before, god knows he’s tried.

but he can’t seem to kick him out of his life, feet dragging and hands hesitating for only a brief second before unlocking that door no matter how many times he tells himself he’ll ignore it.

yoongi can’t seem to stay away from jimin no matter how hard he tries, like a drug he’s desperately dependent on. even if he does manage to hold out for a few short days of agonizing pain and torture, yoongi will relapse, again and again and again, because the temptation will get to be too much.

because he loves him.

even if he doesn’t love him back, yoongi loves him so damn much. and he always wishes it were enough. but he already knows, always knows, it will never be enough.

and it hurts.

oh it hurts.

but he still can’t stop.

crack.

yoongi hears jimin sniffle, the younger’s breath stuttering in hist chest and knocking yoongi out of his reverie.

there’s goosebumps rising against jimin’s pale, shivering skin and yoongi immediately drags him inside the apartment.

“i’m sorry, come in,” yoongi rubs his hand up and down jimin’s arm for warmth as he locks the door, guiding him to the couch and settling down with jimin still curled into his side.

“are you okay?” yoongi rephrases his earlier question, and jimin nods this time. yoongi waits patiently as jimin breathes heavily through his nose, clearing the lump in his throat while he tries to find the courage to speak.

“we had an argument,” jimin’s voice is low and gravelly, as if he’d been crying for hours and worked his throat raw. “i started it. i made him mad. i shouldn’t have said some of the things i said.”

yoongi closes his eyes, arm tightening around jimin’s shoulder as he tries to keep himself calm.

it’s always like this, the self-blame, the sadness, the regret.

jimin will always take it upon himself, never once pointing fingers at the bastard who did this. and no matter how many times yoongi tries to tell him otherwise, jimin never listens, so stubborn in his belief that  he is the one to blame.

yoongi just doesn’t have the energy to argue anymore.

crack.

so instead he’ll hold jimin tight, keep him together as he sheds silent tears even though yoongi himself feels like he’s going to fall apart with every shake, every muffled sob that manages to escape through the fingers that jimin keeps clamped over his own mouth.

yoongi can feel his heart splinter, a fissure forming down the center that cracks and deepens with every tear that rolls down jimin’s cheeks.

yoongi’s life is spiraling out of control, veering and swerving off track as he gets dragged along with the gravitational force that is jimin, a force that yoongi just isn’t equipped to escape.

jimin cries, and yoongi dies just a little bit more.

his hot tears soak into yoongi’s shirt, the fabric clinging wet and warm onto his skin.

frustration.

burning, stinging, like acid.

yoongi silently slides down the couch until his back is flat against the cushions, pulling jimin down onto his chest and just holding him close until the shaking subsides and his breathing eventually peters out into a steady rhythm.

crack.

“i love you,” yoongi murmurs the words he can only say in the silence and loneliness of solitude, arms tightening and breathing into jimin’s hair.

–

“i love you too,” jimin whispers back, eyes clenched against the fresh onslaught of tears that threaten to pour free. he reaches up a shaky hand to trace a feather light touch across the plane of yoongi’s cheekbone, swiping a few loose strands of his hair back into place.

“but i love him more,”

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s just not enough.”

–

yoongi isn’t even surprised anymore when he wakes up to an empty apartment.

but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

crack.

can you hear that?

just another piece of his heart, no big deal.

and in retrospect, yoongi thinks maybe he’d had the chance to walk away, had that window of opportunity to turn away from all this self-inflicted pain and torture. but he’d turned away from that possibility a long ago, back when yoongi’s entire existence had not been invested in the happiness and blinding smile of park jimin, a force of nature yoongi is pretty sure he just isn’t suited to deal with.

but he will try anyways.

he will always try.

because he loves him.

and no matter how many times jimin tramples all over yoongi’s breaking heart, treating it like trash and abusing it until there is nothing left but a sad vestige of its former glory, he’ll still offer up whatever is left of the mangled remains on a silver platter.

because he loves him.

so when he’s woken up again at some godforsaken hour of the early morning by the soft sound of knocking on his door, yoongi knows he’ll force himself out of bed to unlock it and welcome jimin in with open arms.

because he loves him.

and there’s nothing he can do to fight it.