Chapter Text
The first things Jungkook became aware of was how strange he felt. His head felt huge and weirdly disconnected from his body. His mouth was dry and his tongue fuzzy. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelashes seemed to be glued together. His cheeks were too big and too warm, but his body was cold. He tried to pull the blankets up, but he couldn’t quite find his hands. Instead, his fingers just twitched weakly against the sheets. A frustrated groan fell from his lips.
“Shh,” a soft voice said. Jungkook would have been startled if he weren’t so out of it. He hadn’t realized Jimin was there. He wasn’t even sure where he was. He knew he was in a bed, but he didn’t know whose or where it was. He tried to ask, but his voice wasn’t cooperating with him, and his tongue was too heavy to pronounce anything correctly. Another groaned escaped him.
Something soft brushed over his mouth and Jimin laughed. “You’re still drooly. At least it isn’t so bloody anymore. You must be clotting.”
Bloody? Was he bleeding? Why would he be bleeding? What had happened to him? He tried to ask Jimin. “Wha-?” he managed to choke out.
Jimin giggled. “Are you even awake, or are you dreaming? Are you dreaming, Kookie? Is it a good dream?”
Jungkook had to think about that. Was this a dream? That would certainly help explain why nothing was making any sense. But if this was a dream, it was a boring one, Jungkook decided. He couldn’t even do anything.
He was distracted from this thought by something pulling on his chin, opening his mouth. He tried to turn away from it, but his muscles were weak and unresponsive.
“Sorry,” Jimin said. “I’m being as gentle as I can. Hold still for me, okay? I want to check your gauze really quick.”
Gauze? Why would he have gauze, and in his mouth, no less? He must have heard his hyung wrong, but what else could he have said? What rhymed with gauze?
“It looks okay to me,” Jimin said, wiping Jungkook’s mouth again. “I’m going to have to be really careful when I take it out. If the clot shifts or comes loose, that could really hurt. That’s what dry socket is.”
Jungkook wanted to ask Jimin what he was talking about but failed just as miserably as all his prior attempts had.
“Why are you being so talkative? When Taehyung had his wisdom teeth out, he was so quiet. He didn’t move around in his sleep or talk or anything. It was so weird. He just slept for twelve hours straight. It was like having another Yoongi-hyung.”
Wisdom teeth. That jogged something in Jungkook’s befuddled brain. He was supposed to get his wisdom teeth removed. They were impacted just like Taehyung’s had been, which meant they would have to surgically extracted. He would have stitches in his mouth. That sounded awful. He didn’t want stitches in his mouth. Wait. Did he have stitches in his mouth? He probed the side of his mouth with his tongue. He couldn’t really feel anything. There was something soft and squidgy in the back of his mouth. It tasted like blood. He gagged.
“No, no. Don't throw up, please. That will definitely move the clot.”
Jungkook whined. He didn’t like having this thing in his mouth. He wanted it out. He wanted this whole ordeal to end. He wanted to be able to talk again. He wanted to open his eyes and see what was going on. He wanted to warm up. He wanted his head to shrink back to its normal size and stop floating off into space. He wanted to wake up.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Jimin said in alarm as tears began to crawl down Jungkook’s puffy cheeks. “It shouldn’t be hurting yet. The doctor said you wouldn’t start hurting for another hour or so. Oh no. Don't cry. Don't cry, Kookie-ah, or you’ll make me cry, and then where will we be? There’s no one else home to take care of us.”
But Jungkook couldn’t help it. He wasn’t meaning to cry, but he couldn’t help it. Everything just sucked so bad!
“You’re okay.” Jimin wiped his thumbs over Jungkook’s face to dry his tears, being extra careful of his swollen cheeks. “Please don't cry. Are you having a bad dream? Do you need me to wake you up?”
Yes, Jungkook thought as loud as he could. He couldn’t understand what was happening. He needed someone to fix it for him. Jimin could fix it. Jimin could fix anything.
“Jungkook-ah, wake up. You’re dreaming.” Jimin shook his shoulder, putting his hand on the maknae’s neck to stabilize his head. Wait. If Jungkook’s head was connected to his neck, then it was still connected to his body, right? He opened his eyes.
He was in his bedroom. The light was off, but sunlight streamed in through the open window. Jimin’s face was hovering over him, looking concerned. “Jungkook. Are you all right? Are you awake now?”
Jungkook nodded. The movement was clumsy, but at least he was able to communicate now.
“How are you feeling? Any pain?”
Jungkook shook his head. “Cold,” he tried to say, but the word came out garbled.
“I think your mouth is still asleep,” Jimin teased. “I bet you don't remember coming home, do you? You were so out of it you almost couldn’t walk. The manager and I had to carry you to bed. But you’re feeling a little better now, aren’t you?”
Jungkook nodded, reaching out his hand. Jimin happily took it.
“Your fingers are like ice! Are you freezing? That’s no good,” Jimin said when Jungkook nodded. He moved to the other side of the bed and got under the covers. He put a washcloth on his chest before pulling Jungkook close. “There. You have to get all warm before the hyungs get home with your ice cream.”
Jungkook poked at the rag on Jimin’s chest, and the older boy’s smile widened.
“I need that there. I love you, but I don't really want you to drool all over my new shirt. Don't look at me like that. I know you’re not doing it on purpose. You’re still cute, even if you do look like a drunk chipmunk.”
Jungkook may not have been able to talk yet, but he had enough dexterity to pinch Jimin.