Nothings Gonna Hurt You Baby // jikook

six.

Jungkook fell asleep after some time in Taehyung's arms, his friend's shirt soaked through with tears. He had cradled him in close, his large hands petting over Jungkook's back. He knew that his chest was probably in pain, and possibly other places as well but he didn't want to disturb him, he didn't have any more pain killers anyways.

The distant sound of a knock at the front door startled him, letting out a sigh of relief. He slowly slid out from under Jungkook, the boy stirring with a grumpy sound.

"Hyung, please don't go," he whined, causing what felt like every tendon in Taehyung's heart to snap.

"I'm not, I'm just grabbing the door," he reassured him.

Taehyung padded through the apartment before swinging open the front door, Jimin instantly brushing past him with a duffel bag. His expression was riddled with worry and Taehyung looked him up and down, recognizing his clothes as his dance clothes.

"He was non-verbal before he fell asleep so I didn't get the story. He doesn't seem to be seriously hurt but he has some untreated marks and has been kind of unresponsive. I've been laying down with him but I don't know what to do, Hyung."

"You did a good job calling me, Taehyung. Where is he?" Jimin comforted him, embracing him in a quick hug.

"His bedroom, it's the first room down the hall," he directed him. "I have class in thirty minutes-"

"Go ahead, I'll make sure he's well taken care of. I'll send you some updates."

The younger nodded quickly, already turning on the ringer to his phone. He leaned in for one more hug before he left the apartment with a quiet snick of the lock.

Jungkook could hear the footsteps coming his way, turning his head towards the door he fluttered his eyes open. He felt his heart drop when he saw Jimin standing in front of him.

He looked good, per always. He was in a thin tank top and leggings, a black sweatshirt draped over his torso. His hair was pushed back and wet, as if he had just gotten out of the shower.

"Go away," Jungkook grumbled, turning away.

"You know I can't do that." Jimin sighed before he walked over to the bed and dropped the duffel bag on the floor.

He knelt down by it, opening it to find a thick blanket, various snacks and medical supplies. Jungkook resisted the curious urge he felt to turn around and look at the man. He rubbed his sleepy eyes with a deep frown and pulled the cover over his head.

"Where is Taehyung? Why are you here?" He could hear the mean, sour tone in his own words and the twisted feeling of guilt pulled at him. He didn't want to be mean, or cold, but he couldn't help it. He was so angry with himself, and with the world, he didn't even know why. He reminded himself of an injured animal lashing out, part of him prayed that Jimin wouldn't take it personally.

"He had to go to class, Jungkook-ssi," he gently pulled at Jungkook's shoulder until the boy moved to his back, still facing his head away from Jimin. "You're experiencing sub drop."

"No I'm not," the younger protested. "I'm fine."

His voice was thick, hinting at the mass of tears he's shed this morning. He couldn't be dropping, they hadn't had any sort of scene.

"Oh? So you don't feel achy and disoriented? Or hopeless and insecure? Not feeling tired or unstable at all?" Jimin replied, voice sarcastic and stern. Jungkook could hear the frustration in his tone and his own heart twinged in pain at the thought he was the cause of it.