Jung Hoseok Imagines

He Injures Himself Dancing

You sat down on the crash mats as Hobi continued to rehearse. The rest of the boys had left the studio hours ago, but Hobi stayed, trying to perfect the choreography for the tour. On your way home you stopped by from work, food in hand, keeping him company, knowing there was a chance he could stay there for hours into the early morning.

Whilst you were lost in your phone, you continued to hear him groan and sigh in frustration, his body was tiring, but he was relentless. Nothing was left unfinished with Hobi, he needed the choreography to be done tonight, otherwise he wouldn't sleep tonight.

You encouraged him to take breaks, handing him snacks, getting him drinks, cooling him down. It was hard, you struggled to sit back sometimes and not step in to make him stop, but he would never listen to you, his mind was solely focussed on the dance, as nice as it was to have you there, you weren't his priority in the moment.

It was fine with you, but as he got more and more angered, you couldn't sit back anymore. He spun around, landing on the ground, picking himself up to leap across the studio when his landing fell apart, and he collapsed to the floor.

"Ouch," he sighed, his hands landing hard on the floor to break his fall.

You quickly ran over, stopping him from moving, taking his left wrist in your hold. The swelling was already clear, it was red, and incredibly sore for him. Instantly you began to worry, knowing how serious even the smallest of injuries could be.

"Just stay still for a moment," you encouraged him, helping him to sit down properly, crossing his legs in front of him. "Have you got a first aid kit or something? Ice packs, something just to start the healing process?"

He pointed to one of the boxes, with a grimace on his face. You walked over, grabbing an ice pack, breaking it up to start it working, placing it on his wrist.

He flinched slightly at the feeling of the ice, but you kept your hand on him, stopping him from pulling away. "I think we need to take you to the hospital, just to get it looked at, the last thing you need right now is any lasting damage."

"I don't need to go to hospital," he snapped back, shaking his head in response. "It's probably just a sprain or something. I don't need to sit down, just let me start back up again."

"Absolutely not. It looks pretty bad, let me take you to hospital, please, just for my own peace of mind," you begged, trying to get him to see how important it was for you, and him.

He stood up, shrugging his hand out of your hold, walking over to the stereo. You shook your head, following him, pressing stop as he pressed play. "I'm not playing these games Hobi, but you need to know when enough is enough," you warned, standing directly in front of him.

"It barely even hurts anymore," he assured you, "I'm fine, honestly."

He went to dance, but you grabbed just above his wrist, his squeal loud, snatching away. His eyes fell on you in disbelief, he couldn't believe you'd done that, but it only made it clear to you that his wrist was still causing him a lot of discomfort.

"You're not dancing," you sighed, bringing his face down to look at you. "I get that you want to finish this, but if you push yourself too hard right now you could make things worse. If you don't want to go to hospital, at least let me take you home."

"But I have responsibilities, I can't come here tomorrow and tell everyone I've let them down and not finished the choreography," he grumbled. When it came to dancing, he felt the pressures of the world on his shoulders to perfect everything.

Dance was everything to him, and you supported him with it all, but his health was more important, and you knew everyone would understand. He was stubborn, which didn't help, but slowly you were beginning to make him realise.

"No one will be mad at you; they'll understand you hurt yourself. You can work on it as a team tomorrow, when your wrist is healed."

He sighed, nodding slowly. "Fine, let's just go home."

You slipped your hand into his other one, guiding him to the car. Turning everything off, and locking up, you could see the disappointment in his eyes, but it was for the best that he called it a night. Even buckling up his seatbelt was difficult for him, cringing every time he tried to pull down on the leather to bring it around his waist.

You chuckled lightly, reaching over to give him a helping hand, driving him home, grabbing him a fresh block of ice and some pain relief. He laid out on your bed, holding his wrist delicately against his chest, silently pleading for it to get better.

"You've got to take time to help it heal Hobi."

"I know, but it's just annoying. I really help that after I sleep tonight it will be better." You nodded, laying beside him on the bed, resting your legs over his. "Sorry I was stubborn; I know you had my health and importance at interest."

"Of course. I hope tonight you've learnt that at some points you need to stop, you can work hard Hobi, but you can't overwork yourself. It's no good for you and the band, you need to take care of yourself, and then everything can fall into place."

He nodded, tapping his shoulder for you to rest on, kissing the top of his head. "I don't want another injury like this."

"I'm happy to hear you say that," you whispered, resting your hand over the one that held his wrist. "Just take it easy for tonight and try again tomorrow."

"I will," he sighed, resting his head on top of yours, "do you think anyone will be mad tomorrow that I didn't sort things out?" He asked, releasing a sigh.

"No way. As important as the dance is, so are you. I bet they'll be gutted to know you hurt yourself working hard for them all, and they'll do everything to help you out. They care too much to be mad at you, they'll take care of you, I know it."

He nodded, feeling reassured by your words, fretting about tomorrow morning. "Thank you for taking care of me and making me realise that I need to take care of me."

"You're welcome Hobi. Now, can I get you anything else whilst you nurse your injury?" You smiled up at him.

"Just a good cuddle," he replied, stretching his good arm out to you."

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