teacher's pet | taekook

SeVENTEEN { iron and sweat }

TW // this chapter features blood and implications of violence.

viewer discretion is advised. as of this point you've been warned.

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Taehyung doesn't know which room Yoongi is being held in. Jungkook never told him.

It's too unnerving to pass a door in the upstairs hall; the last thing he wants is to overhear anything that could be going on in Yoongi's cell. But he can't help his curiosity either; a part of him wants to know what's going on, even if it compromised his barely-there peace of mind. He could only imagine the worst, but he knew Yoongi was alive — that had to be a little comforting on some level.

He knew Yoongi was alive because every night after dinner, Jungkook gathered a bit of food on a plate and took it upstairs. Sometimes he brought a cup of water too. It had to be for Yoongi, and that was the only food Jungkook ever gave him — a sorry excuse for a meal once a day.

After falling into bed, Taehyung overheard Yoongi's sobbing. For at least an hour every night, that sobbing turned into higher degree fits: he would scream, wail, cry for freedom, and bang something or some part of himself against the nearest wall. That was until one night, Jungkook snapped. He was so fed up that he stormed from bed and did something to Yoongi that shut him up for the rest of the night and every night after that.

Taehyung didn't ask about it. His imagination filled in the answer for him. He just prayed Yoongi wasn't dead, but he couldn't have been because even after that Jungkook continued to go to his cell after dinner and feed him the bare minimum. He had to be alive.

Because of that, most of what Taehyung has done in the past four days is ask about Yoongi

He refused to take walks because he worried about Yoongi being left completely alone, even only for a few hours. He didn't touch the endless puzzles and coloring books Jungkook provided him because he felt guilty for taking advantage of his abundance of privileges while Yoongi sat chained somewhere, starving, suffering. Taehyung couldn't focus on anything at all for more than sixteen minutes at a time before asking about Yoongi. He couldn't shut up at dinner, but it was just to try to talk about Yoongi.

Jungkook shut it down every time. "It's not important," he would say. "Stop asking." "Just eat your dinner," or "I'm busy, darling. Go read your book."

But now, Jungkook has been with Yoongi for a while, a lot longer than usual.

Normally, when Jungkook goes to feed Yoongi, he's in and out quickly — he apparently can't stand being in Yoongi's vicinity for more than ten minutes. But now he's been upstairs with him for the better part of an hour, and Taehyung was growing anxious.

Taehyung tried his best to be patient. He should wait, "be good" and stay in the living room like Jungkook told him to. Maybe Jungkook was suddenly capable of sympathy and he was letting Yoongi bathe for once, or maybe they were talking things out. He knew it was best to leave them alone; he had to trust Jungkook with this.

But he couldn't suppress the urge to go check on them once the fifty-minute mark passed.

There's no way Jungkook could stand being with Yoongi for that long, not with the way he talked about him, unless something was really, really wrong.

Taehyung carefully, but quickly, made his way upstairs, wary of the creaky floorboards so as to not make his arrival that obvious. He found a door slightly ajar — it was to a room he has never been allowed in before. Taehyung stood straight with the door, doing his best not to move it. Like this, he could peer around and into the room while hiding most of his body from whoever was inside.