Chapter Text
The woods behind his apartment are deep and dark and, oh, so green. So green that Jungkook feels like he can drown in them when he steps through the first row of trees that open up into the greenery. The leaves shake at his every step, gushes of wind making them tremble with soft shivers that run through them like water on a river. The branches seem to reach out to Jungkook; long, cold fingers stretched out towards his shoulders like blades from watchful guards. He steps over an overgrown root and his fingers find their way to the bark of a tree, harsh under his palm. A soft mutter of the wind brushes by his hair and he can feel it whispering on his cheek as it passes by, leaving him with fresh cold on his skin. He takes another step towards the dark mouth of the forest, left wide open for oblivious wanderers to walk right in.
Jungkook walks right in.
One of the branches scratches at his shoulder through the fabric of his sweater and he turns slightly before walking in further towards the heart of the woods. There’s another whisper by his left side, eerie, low like a wolf’s growl. A flutter of the wind like eyelashes batting over cheekbones and a shadow crossing between two trees. Jungkook comes closer, boots rustling over broken twigs and leaves, eyes wide open with wonder and awe. Cold bites at the back of his neck, sharp fangs closing in over the first vertebrae, running a shiver down his spine; a dead finger for each step all the way down to his waist. He takes his hand to another tree, finding velvet in the green moss that covers it, and he traces the shape of it with his fingertips, light as a feather. There’s yet another whisper, closer, closer, closer, and louder, louder, louder, and there’s a voice singing in his ear and then—
There’s silence. It’s louder than the whisper is, colder than winter— so devastating that Jungkook turns around to look for any kind of noise in the immensity of a silent forest.
Instead, he finds two eyes gazing back at him.
Two obsidian stones glitter under the sunlight that slithers between the shaking leaves, surrounded by green and gold and silver; Jungkook feels his heart stop between the two beats. There’s a delicate hand reaching out for him, crossing the distance between them to take his chin under his thumb and push up to tilt his head. Soft velvet moss grazes Jungkook’s skin and he doesn’t even try to fight it, diving deep into the pit of darkness he finds in those eyes. Nails dig into his skin like stone under his back on a summer day and Jungkook lets his jaw go slack as his gaze drops over the body belonging to those eyes, to the figure of gold and green that stands before him.
“What have we got here?” Jungkook hears him speak and his voice is like the rustling of leaves in autumn, the snarl at the back of the wolf’s throat. Thin nails scratch at his chin, little pebbles under his knees when he fell as a kid on the playground. “Such a pretty little thing, aren’t we…?”
There are silver strands pushed off his forehead, shining like they’re both in the middle of the night, under the light of a full moon. But the sun shines bright, and it brings to the surface specks of green and gold amidst the black of his eyes. Jungkook wants to drown in them. He lets his eyes drop and follow the line of his jaw, strong and firm, and he stops at his lips made of gold, so plump and so full and parted into a thin line where teeth are barely visible. He’s smiling, Jungkook realizes. He’s smiling at him and Jungkook wants to be devoured by it. Wants to raise his hands and dig his fingers into that mouth, find out whether what he’s seen are truly pointed fangs like arrowheads or just another figment of his imagination, a product of fog and haze settled in his mind like morning mist. It all seems like an illusion his mind has made up, from the faint singing in his ears to the push and pull he feels in the pit of his stomach.
“Do you want to give me your name, pretty boy?” Another rustling of leaves, a whisper of the wind, a breaking of the earth under his feet.
A warning. A threat.
There’s no silence anymore. The woods are screaming and Jungkook isn’t listening.
The hand on his chin pulls and Jungkook steps forward without even realizing it until he already has. It’s easy to give in. It’s easy to surrender to the daydream in front of him, to his pitch black eyes and his moonlight hair. It’s easy to part his lips and breathe out an answer, as easy as it is for the sun to rise.
“Jeon Jungkook,” he whimpers, like the singing in his ears.
He hears a ringing of bells that faintly sounds like music and vaguely sounds like laughter. Leaves seem to shake all around him, shivers and shivers running along their seams with a warning that Jungkook can’t hear. There’s another pull at his stomach to accompany the one at his chin and he’s walking forward without noticing it. He takes a longer stride, eager to get closer to the mirage formed in front of him, to break away at the distance between them. Eager to reach his mouth, eager to trace the arrows inside with his tongue.
There’s another hand on Jungkook and it feels more real than the one on his chin. No longer a trick of the light, his hand first brushes at Jungkook’s jaw and then descends though his neck and towards his collarbone. It stops at the hem of his sweater and Jungkook wants him to pull at it, to take it off— wants to feel those fingers on his skin and the touch of green on his body. But he can’t find his own arms or his own voice. Instead, he keeps walking towards the figure, because he will find himself between his arms if he just keeps walking towards the green and the gold and the hunger within his eyes. There’s nothing else. Nothing but his fingers skimming Jungkook’s shoulder, tracing down his arm before reaching Jungkook’s hand. It feels like tree bark warmed after long hours beneath the summer sun. It takes Jungkook two heartbeats to stop fixating on the touch of the forest between his fingers. At the third, he notices that he’s listening to words coming out of those parted lips, moving in a way Jungkook wishes they would on his mouth.
“… mine.”
There’s a darkness to the way he says it. His voice is a deep cavern in the middle of the woods that sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine, cold and afraid and yet so hungry for it. Yes, Jungkook will be his without hesitation. He wants to tell him. He wants to scream like the woods did before, over the singing and the ringing and wants to tell him he’ll be his if that’s what he wants. But the chanting of the trees is louder; louder than before, louder than the silence that predated those deep dark eyes staring back at Jungkook. Something shines behind him, glints brighter than the golden sun. Something behind the figure that opens up, like a ripening flower trying to bloom amidst the grass. Jungkook takes another step forward and his feet can’t seem to find the ground anymore, free from the earth beneath them, diving towards the green, so close he can almost taste spring on his tongue.
I'm crazy like a fool, wild about Daddy Cool.
Jungkook blinks.
There are two dark eyes looking down at him, a brow furrowed with confusion and what seems like anger in pursed golden lips that makes Jungkook’s stomach clench. There are strands of silver falling over those eyes, and there’s no moonlight shining, but thick mud over his temples, where soft leaves seem to grow towards his cheekbones. There is no longer a warning on the leaves, but someone in front of him, staring. Spring and autumn manifest themselves like a mirage in front of Jungkook, in the shape of leaves, mud and moss; the woods incarnate. Jungkook blinks one more time, coming back from the fog as his feet reach unbroken ground just then, saved from whatever trick of the light he had been diving himself into, so willingly and eager. Something flashes across the darkness of the eyes still staring at him, burning; something that holds the same darkness that he spoke with before. Jungkook feels his heart stop for a second and, before he can pull away, his hand is being dragged towards that mouth. A soft velvet kiss falls down over the back of his hand like rose thorns and Jungkook flinches.
He’s alone in the middle of the woods.
I'm crazy like a fool, wild about Daddy Cool.
Jungkook turns around, eyes shooting over the trees in search for whatever shadow was just reaching out for him. The leaves are silent this time around, the wind has stopped its whispers and Jungkook is left alone with a sense of eerie confusion and coiled tension in the pit of his stomach. His phone keeps ringing, relentless, and Jungkook fumbles around for a second before digging into his pocket to reach out for it. He takes it up to his ear, turning around one more time in search for something familiar. Everything looks different, off, wrong in a way it wasn’t before; Jungkook feels something dark twisting within his chest. He doesn’t recognize the part of the woods he’s driven himself into, and he pushes away at the fear the moment he hears Seokjin screeching by his ear.
“Kook-ah! Thank god, what were you doing? You didn’t answ— never mind, I don’t want to know. Can you please tell Yoongi to go home and get some rest, he isn’t leaving and he doesn’t let me invoke my right to refuse service. He’ll get bags under his eyes and look like he’s seventy!”
“Hyung,” Jungkook sighs into the phone, stepping over a little stream that he definitely does not remember. “What makes you think I can make him…?”
“Just pout and ask him to, he won’t say no to you, come on, do this for hyung,” he hears Seokjin’s whine and he bites back another sigh. He doesn’t even notice he hasn’t answered him until Seokjin speaks again, negotiating when Jungkook didn’t even realize they were negotiating. “I’ll give you Tuesday off.”
“Put him on the phone.” Jungkook waits patiently as he passes another tree. There are no shadows around, no warning hanging from its branches, and Jungkook wonders if he imagined the whole ordeal. Maybe he’s a little more sleep deprived that he gave himself credit for. He hears a groan on the other side of his ear and he doesn’t fight the smile that tugs at his lips. “Hey, hyung. Rough night?” Another groan. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest?” A long and heavy groan comes back, and Jungkook can clearly picture Yoongi draped over one of the tables at the coffee shop while Seokjin holds the phone on his ear, lips pursed into an angry pout that doesn’t fool anyone. “I know, I know. It’s alright, you know Jin-hyung will be there tomorrow too,” an embarrassed grumble from Yoongi makes Jungkook giggle slightly. “Please, hyung…? You’ll make me sad.” There goes the longest groan from Yoongi before a silence settles on the other side, only broken by some rustling and sounds of movement. Jungkook thinks he hears a car close by and he turns towards the sounds of the city to walk in their direction.
“Kook-ah, you’re a true champ! You get the first Tuesday of December off, promise!”
“Hyung, we’re in May!”
Seokjin hangs up before Jungkook can finish whining.
The sunlight falls through the leaves in golden lines between the trees as Jungkook steps out of the first row, leaving the woods behind.