Work Text:
Oh I hope you know,
Oh I hope you know,
That I was barely hanging on,
When I first saw you I was pitiful,
And I was losing every night.
Jimin remembers the first time he saw Yoongi cry.
It’s relatively early into their years as Bangtan, maybe two years after their debut. Jimin isn’t sure. All he knows is Namjoon and Yoongi coming from the studio one night in icy silence.
The next morning, tense. Uncomfortable glances passing around the breakfast table. Jungkook getting so anxious about it that Seokjin has to take him out of the dorm for a couple hours.
Hoseok follows them, not knowing what to do in the middle of a rapline argument. Both Yoongi and Namjoon are livid, furious. Namjoon drops a plate in the sink - it doesn’t break but it makes a considerable bang - and Yoongi snaps at him. Yoongi slinks away to the bedroom - shared by all of them at the time - and Namjoon makes a stinging comment to his back.
It’s scary, seeing them fight. It’s scary seeing any of the hyungs fight but seeing these two fight is actually the scariest thing Jimin has ever seen in his life.
Namjoon’s usual calmness is gone. His temper is quick and he yells and he slams his fist on the dining room table and kicks the cabinets beneath.
When Jungkook forgets, when he accidentally eats the last of food in the refrigerator even though Namjoon told him to save it for Jimin (no one has had a chance to buy food in over a week, money’s tight at the moment, but they at least need to make sure Jimin is eating) Namjoon slams the fridge door closed.
“JEON. JEONGGUK.”
Tears are quick after that and that’s how Seokjin decides to whisk their maknae out of their too small dorm.
Yoongi’s weapon is his words. He bites out harsh, stinging jabs at insecurities, knowing exactly where to hit where it hurts most.
He doesn’t speak very often. Actually, most of the time, he locks himself away in his room pretending the noise cancelling headphones he’s using to block out the world aren’t the same ones Namjoon bought him with his first paycheck for his birthday last year.
But if prompted, he’ll speak. And when he does, it burns.
Yoongi snarls in the back of his throat and knocks away Hoseok’s concerned hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t fucking touch me. You’re not helpful.”
The sun dips below the horizon and that’s how Hoseok decides to follow his maknae and eldest hyung to the park that night.
Jimin and Taehyung huddle together, jumpy and unsure of every step and breath because Namjoon hyung and Yoongi hyung are fighting and they don’t want to stay in the dorm but they also don’t want to leave their hyungs alone when things are like this.
So they wait.
Jimin sits awake, back propped up against the wall at the end of his bottom bunk, and combs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair as the younger boy hugs his waist and tries to block out Namjoon and Yoongi’s yelling with gritted teeth.
Jimin waits until the yelling turns into frustrated final words, “ fine ,” and “ if that’s what you want to do then I don’t fucking care anymore .” Jimin waits until angry footsteps leave through the front door - Namjoon - and there’s a pause before someone storms down the hallway - Yoongi - and the bathroom door locks.
Jimin waits. Taehyung shudders in his lap.
Jimin waits Taehyung finally falls asleep and he can slip out from under his friend and knock timidly on the bathroom door.
He can hear better now that he’s close. Jimin knocks and the sound of sniffles that have come into focus suddenly stop.
Jimin swallows, wants to jam his hand through his ribcage and stop his heart from beating so fast.
“Yoongi hyung?”
The door opens, surprisingly. Jimin squints at the light that floods the dark hallway and shields his eyes.
“Are you…”
Yoongi stands in the doorway. He and Jimin are pretty much the same height now, Jimin maybe slightly more broad in the shoulders, even.
But Jimin feels like he’s about to melt into a puddle.
Yoongi watches him with an apathetic expression. Nothing gives away the past thirty minutes.
Except for the redness of his eyes.
Yoongi waits for Jimin to speak.
“Hyung…” Jimin whispers. “Do you… Are…” He shifts his weight between his feet, stares at his hands. The words get lost in his throat and he gives up with a sigh.
Slowly, Jimin leans forward.
“ Umph .” Yoongi stumbles backwards at the sudden weight, feet backtracking slightly.
Jimin’s attached to him around the waist, face pressed into his neck and hands rubbing his back.
Seconds pass.
One. Two. Three.
Yoongi makes a soft of strangled whine.
Four. Five.
Jimin tightens his grip. One hand comes up to the back of Yoongi’s neck, the other still soothing the muscles below his shoulder blades.
Six. Seven.
Yoongi crumples with a sob muffled against Jimin’s shoulder.
I asked if you might,
Stay a while,
Oh stay a while,
You said maybe if your voice could,
Make me smile,
And I told ya give me one chance,
I don’t deserve you to give me this one chance,
You’re my medicine,
You’re my medicine.
When Jimin gets a text from Seokjin it’s almost midnight. He writes to say that he and Jungkook and Hoseok will be at Bang PD’s for the night, Namjoon at the studio.
Seokjin: I think everyone just needs some space for the night. How are things at the dorm?
On his right Taehyung shifts. He stretches his arms and legs into a starfish position, one foot kicking over Jimin’s thighs and a hand almost taking out one of Jimin’s eyes.
He gently nudges his best friend into a less invading position, taking time to brush the fringe comfortably out of his eyes and return the lost ends of a blanket to his unconsciously grabbing fingers.
Jimin holds his phone above his head as he responds.
Jimin: We’re okay, hyung. Sleep well.
A sound on his left startles him.
Jimin sets his phone down and turns his head. Yoongi’s holding his hand, been holding his hand since Jimin was able to quiet his tears and coax him to lie down (the three of them move to the mattress on the ground for more space). It’s still early in their relationship as group members, so there is no full on cuddling yet, but they hold hands.
They lie a separate. They don’t touch like Jimin does when he and Taehyung share a bed. Yoongi curls up next to Jimin - not touching, but not too far away either - and that’s it.
But they hold hands.
Jimin has his palm face up and Yoongi’s fingers wrap loosely around his wrist. The other hand he keeps pressed under his chin, scrunched close to his body like the rest of his limbs except for the hand he lets Jimin hold.
“ Mianhae .”
Jimin exhales a little breath of sad amusement. He squeezes their hands.
“I’m a horrible person,” Yoongi whispers.
“No, no Yoongi, you’re not.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“It was so dumb. It was just a stupid melody.”
Jimin hums. His fingers scratch lightly at his hyung’s wrist.
It’s a new level of skinship for them, this sort of comfort touching. Jimin of course is naturally inclined to these sort of actions, but with Yoongi it’s different. He’s never wanted to overstep his boundaries, so usually he tones it down a bit. Hugs. An arm over the shoulder. Using him as a post when he collapses because he’s laughing too hard.
This, though, his fingers drawing pictures along the underside of Yoongi’s forearm… it’s not anything huge but maybe that’s it.
It’s simple, and yet in the dead of night, lying on Jimin’s bed, and amidst emotions saturated skyhigh, it’s intimate and Jimin hopes it’s not too much.
Oh I hope you know,
I hope you know,
You pulled me up when I was down,
You showed me love when I knew hopelessness,
Breathing slowly softer sounds.
“I ruined everything.”
“You didn’t.”
“Namjoon’s so mad.”
“Now, maybe, but not forever.”
“Jungkookie cried.”
“He just doesn’t like to see his hyungs fight.”
“Did you see Hobi’s face?”
“He still loves you, hyung.”
“…Jimin?”
“Hyung?”
“Why are you being nice to me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“You do.”
Jimin links their fingers together like a zipper and Yoongi stuffs his face in the pillow.
“Go to sleep, hyung. We can talk about it with everyone tomorrow morning.”
I asked if you might,
Stay a while,
Oh stay a while,
You said maybe if your voice could,
Make me smile,
And I told ya give me one chance,
I don’t deserve you to give me this one chance,
You’re my medicine,
You’re my medicine.
The next morning everyone sits in the living room and Namjoon cries.
“I’m sorry. You’re my brother. We should be in this together.”
The next morning the dust kicked up in the air starts to settle again and the maknaes start to relax. Seokjin takes special care to make a nice dinner and Hoseok treats everyone to a rather ridiculous display of his Dance Dance Revolution skills - or lack thereof, much to everyone’s amusement.
It’s a stepping stone in their dynamics as a group but.
It stirs something heavy in Yoongi’s chest. It was always there, really. But something changes after that argument. A loose stone. An avalanche of self doubt and self hatred and sometimes Jimin finds him lying in bed in the middle of the day with a glazed look in his eyes and barely enough energy to move over and let Jimin sit with him.
Everyone thinks it’s just because he likes to sleep. He works late into the nights and therefore lives with a fucked up sleeping schedule.
But Jimin opens the bedroom door, shuffles in his socks to Yoongi’s bed.
And maybe I hold you,
Maybe I look you in the eyes,
And maybe I give it all to see you smile,
And maybe I hold you,
And maybe I look in the eyes,
And maybe I tell you that I love you tonight.
Sometimes he lies down on his side and reaches over to play with Yoongi’s hair. It’s ashy red and starting to dry out. Then it’s a lighter auburn. Then mint green. Then it’s blonde and Jimin thinks it’s gorgeous but Yoongi hates it because the bleach hurts his scalp.
Sometimes he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling too.
Sometimes he just sits.
Jimin always holds his hand, though. He holds it when Yoongi is head weight and doesn’t squeeze back. He holds it when Yoongi is sobbing and clutches onto him like he’s the only thing keeping him tied to this earth.
Jimin holds Yoongi’s hand in the darkness of the bedroom and whispers, “Yoongi hyung, saranghae, ” every time in hopes that one day, he’ll realize how much everyone loves him and maybe he’ll start loving himself too.
“Jimin-ah.”
“Yes, hyung.”
“Thank you.”
It doesn’t happen immediately. There’s no bright light, a revelation or spiritual epiphany that shoots through Yoongi’s soul and brings him out of his darkness.
Nothing ever happens that way. At least, not with things like this.
It happens gradually, a little bit at a time. It happens every time Taehyung gets too excited and jumps on Yoongi in a bone crushing hug, every time Hoseok screams and dances with his entire body to make someone laugh.
It happens when Jungkookie wins their ISAC 400 relay for the second year in a row and Yoongi finds himself cheering and clapping and following Jungkook around the track in his last stretch.
When they win their first Dasaeng. When he releases his mixtape and he feels lighter.
One day Jimin hugs him from behind for no reason and Yoongi cries again.
You’re my medicine,
You’re my medicine,
You’re my medicine, (Oh I hope you know)
You’re my medicine, (Oh I hope you know)
You’re my medicine, (Oh I hope you know)
You’re my medicine.