PLUGGED IN | minsung

part 13

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•

"I can do it."

Jisung was regretting putting himself forward already. The scene in front of him looked like something straight out of a horror film; Jeongin was still twisted awkwardly on the counter and the room was dark aside from a few spot lights underneath the kitchen cabinets. There were drops of blood leading to the counter where Jeongin lay. 

"We need more light in here. And get me towels, clean towels, so we can wipe off the blood. And something for him to bite down on if he wakes up. Ice? If you can find ice, bring me ice."

Minho paused, his eyes flicking anxiously between Jisung and the boy on the table. He wasn't sure if he wanted to leave this in Jisung's hands but Minho was never the one to take care of... physical problems. That was usually Changbin's job. If anything, Minho was ridiculously squeamish. Cleaning the blood from Jeongin's face had seemed daunting. How would he be able to pop a limb back into place?

He chose to ignore the voice in his head that insisted he was making a mistake and rushed from the kitchen in search of the supplies that Jisung had asked for. 

Jisung approached the counter cautiously. He still felt like he was playing a role in a horror film, like Jeongin was going to suddenly leap out at him and scare him senseless. But Jeongin was still. Too still.

Unable to settle the queasy feeling in his stomach, Jisung reached out one tentative hand and held it below Jeongin's nose. A sudden warmth sent a rush of relief coursing through him; Jeongin was breathing. He was going to be fine. This was just a dislocated bone. Jisung could handle this.

Minho returned in the blink of an eye, his arms full of different fabrics. He handed them straight to Jisung, who smiled gratefully and turned back to Jeongin. Minho averted his eyes.

"Okay, Jeongin, if you can hear this..." Jisung muttered, "This is really going to hurt. And I can't change that. But it'll be over soon."

With gentle hands that were only shaking a little bit, Jisung twisted up a stretch of cloth and pried Jeongin's mouth. He pressed the fabric into his mouth so that it covered his teeth.

"This will stop him biting off his tongue if he wakes up," Jisung said under his breath.

Minho wasn't sure if the younger boy was talking to him or himself. He was leaning at a safe distance away from the counter; close enough to be there if needed, far enough to (hopefully) avoid the sounds that he was sure were coming. He pressed the palm of one hand to his lips and tried to supress a gag.

"Alcohol? Spirits, preferably?" Jisung asked, glancing backwards at Minho.

Minho nodded quickly and reached up to grab a bottle of vodka from inside the cupboard behind him. He wasn't used to seeing Jisung like this; calm, confident, free of that jittery nervousness that Minho was used to. 

"What's that for?" Minho asked. The silence made him uncomfortable.

"For me," Jisung answered shortly as he flicked the cap from the bottle and took a swig.

It felt wrong, but Minho couldn't hide a smile. When Jisung offered him the bottle he took it. The vodka burned as it went down. 

"Okay, Innie," Jisung returned his attention and a now softer voice to Jeongin. "I'm gonna do your arm first. You just sit still for me, you're doing so well, and I'm just going to-"

It all seemed to happen at once. Jisung grabbed Jeongin's arm from the elbow, holding the boy down with one hand and gripping the toned flesh of his upper arm with the other, and pulled. Jeongin shot up from the table like a zombie reanimated and screamed through his fabric ball gag. Minho flinched and turned away as the sickening crack of Jeongin's bone relocating filled the room. And then the front door open, and three shouting voices spilled into the room.