Work Text:
‘And you're standing on the edge, face up
‘Cause you're a natural
A beating heart of stone
You gotta be so cold
To make it in this world
Yeah, you're a natural
Living your life cutthroat
You gotta be so cold
Yeah, you're a natural’
-Imagine Dragons, Natural
Jeongguk didn’t quite remember how he had managed to get himself into the situation he was in, looking at his leg which was most definitely broken if the angle was anything to go by, the pain just as bad as the limb looked. All he recalled was that someone wanted the blanket he had been given a few weeks ago by someone who pitied him as they walked by, the red and gold wool useful when the temperature was beginning to drop. The donor had taken one look at him and instead of giving him money had gone into the corner shop at the end of the street and come back a few minutes after with the colourful fabric, giving it to him with a small nod before they quickly went on their way.
He probably imagined that the person had thought he wouldn’t do anything useful with the money, would buy drugs or cigarettes or something else, but Jeongguk preferred it. The blanket probably cost more than the person would have given him just in money, and so really he had no complaints, especially when that night had been the first since he was forced out his home almost two months ago that had been even slightly close to being remotely comfortable. It didn’t mean he didn’t miss his bed, his room, but it did mean that he hadn’t been shivering as he tried to sleep in the few layers of clothes he owned, hugging his rucksack close to his chest as though it would make him feel better somehow.
The first night had been the worst, and he almost listened to the part of his head that begged him to go back to his parents, to tell them that he wasn’t really gay, would be fine studying what they wanted him to, would do anything for them to take him back. Knowing the way they were, they would definitely welcome him back, congratulate him on the journey of self discovery and the fact he had managed to fix himself, content as long as he did what they wanted of him. In the end he hadn’t, but sometimes he wished he really had, like tonight when someone had jumped him to try and get his precious blanket, a situation which had become almost familiar when he was in the worst part of his city and living on the side of a road.
The first time a similar thing happened it was because of the watch he was wearing, not one that was particularly expensive but it seemed to be enough to warrant someone pulling a knife from inside their clothes and threatening him with it. Jeongguk wasn’t an idiot, even at fifteen knew the fight was useless, and so he immediately handed the piece of metal over within seconds, the other running away once he had gotten what he asked for. The watch had been one of the few things Jeongguk had had once he had left home, other than the small amounts of clothes in his bag and the one pair of trainers he was wearing and so parting with it had made him feel melancholy despite the fact it held no sentimental value at all.
The other times had been about money and food, people not wanting his dirty clothes or dirty bag, which worked well for him since he didn’t want to have to save to buy more if they were taken from him. It was hard enough getting given enough money for his staggered visits to the nearest Laundromat, pity practically funding everything he did these days, but even pity was frugal and limited to just the smallest amount of spare change people had in their pockets when they saw him. It had only been less than two months, but Jeongguk was already very well acquainted with this way of life, needing to kill before he was killed in the solely metaphorical sense.
But now Jeongguk had definitely not been the victor in the fight he had just been in, and was blanketless as he sat against a dirty wall in the alleyway he had been staying in for a while, partially hidden behind rusting dumpsters and the piles of black bin bags which were overflowing from their containers, smelling like rotting food. His bag was a few metres away, hadn’t even been touched during the brawl to his relief, but nothing in there was much help to him just then, a few pairs of trousers and other items not having any sort of power to heal a leg that was definitely broken and definitely painful.
The pain was the least of Jeongguk’s worries, if he was being honest. The main issue was that when he was hurt like this, he was completely vulnerable to everything, especially when he probably couldn’t even walk in his condition, let alone fight. It left him feeling scared, afraid that someone would come along and see his state, take advantage of the fact he couldn’t fight back and steal everything else he owned; hurt him even more than he was already aching to his bones. It was a thought that made him sweat, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to move his leg even the smallest amount, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw when even the most minuscule motion made shards of invisible glass pierce his nerves like they were butter.
The fights before had never left him with an injury like this, never a broken bone, the only time he had ever experienced something alike to it was when he had fractured his arm during a taekwondo lesson when he was younger, needing to go to the hospital to get a cast. His leg definitely needed the same treatment, but he knew that a visit to see a doctor would probably do more harm than good, the fact he wasn’t a legal adult would raise red flags if he was alone. As much as he knew he needed help, he was scared of what would happen once people found out about his situation, and Jeongguk didn’t want to find himself somewhere he didn’t know surrounded by people who could treat him badly for who he was.
Taking a deep breath, Jeongguk looked down at his leg again, at the way he could see the bone was tilting at an angle it shouldn’t, and he knew before anything he should try and sort that out. From the amount of pain he was in already, he knew trying to set the limb straight would be outright agony, but it was the only thing he could think to do, the only step forwards to fixing this. It wasn’t a task Jeongguk exactly knew how to accomplish, but he knew enough from school about how his bone should sit in his flesh to be able to guess, knowing a vague method to pressing until something shifts into place.
It was probably a bad idea, the worst idea, but he didn’t know what else he could possibly do when he was stuck in one place, no one anywhere to help him in the world. It was the overpowering fear of what could happen if he didn’t try and help himself that overruled the fear from the pain he knew was to come, and Jeongguk knew his mind would focus on the fears from what ifs rather than anything else, and suddenly for one of the first times in his life his lack of impulse control was a benefit.
Inhaling as slowly as he could to calm his racing heart, Jeongguk positioned his hands over the area he could see where the break was, hoping what he was about to do was a good idea. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he couldn’t do nothing, and this just seemed like the first step to helping himself in the long run. At least, that’s what he was telling the parts of his mind that were adamantly against the idea, blocking out his conscience as he took one more deep breath before pressing down with all his might.
Not to his surprise in any way, the action felt like pure agony, like there was a knife stabbing into his leg over and over again, metal hitting all the way down to the bone each time. As soon as the pressure was applied Jeongguk could feel his whole body protesting, fire in his veins, and a scream was muffled by gritted teeth and sealed lips. The pain made his whole form shut down, hands losing their strength and dropping down to Jeongguk’s sides, attempt unsuccessful with the way his leg was still as bad as before. It probably wasn’t even the way you were meant to set a bone in the first place, but he at least felt like he tried, that being the slightly optimistic thought he had as his vision blurred from the pain, everything fading into black.
“Gukkie, it’s time for dinner!” A woman’s voice shouted from somewhere, the sound so familiar it almost hurt, Jeongguk not quite understanding why he felt sadness deep in his chest at the words.
“Coming, eomma!” He shouted in answer, sighing as he stretched his hands above his head, taking a deep breath as he leaned over the back of his chair.
The pencil he was gripping tightly between his fingers was returned to the small pot he had on his desk, and the papers were gathered into a single pile, the page of drawings and doodles hidden under printed maths questions and science notes. If his parents saw that he hadn’t been completely focused on his work then he would probably be scolded, especially when they wanted him to go up by two grades in the next set of exams he was going to sit, needing high predicted grades by the end of the year if they wanted to be happy. University was years away, but the two adults were already looking through different adverts and specifications for subjects that Jeongguk could study, even if the very thought made the younger feel nauseous.
Pushing his hands away from his desk, he stood from his chair, messily slotting the seat under the surface again before he was leaving his bedroom, fingers trying to neaten his hair from the mess caused by his hands running through the strands while trying to work. The smell of the food his mother had made was already reaching his nose, even when the kitchen was down the stairs and through the hall, and it made Jeongguk’s mouth water, barely having eaten anything between doing homework and playing on the new games he had gotten on his phone that he was determined to beat his high score in. His parents probably didn’t know about the latter, and Jeongguk wasn’t about to enlighten them, not when he knew the exact reaction he would get if he so much as mentioned something that he actually liked to do for fun.
It was obvious his family cared, but sometimes Jeongguk hated the way that they placed so much importance on things like his education, his future, neglecting to ask him about what he actually wanted to do. He thought about trying to talk about studying art again, but he knew the road was a dead end, the first time the subject came up it was shut down within minutes. The subject his parents were most keen on was business, and art was as different as could be to the other’s hopes and dreams for him, and they wouldn’t budge their stance on the topic for even a second.
Going down the stairs two at a time, Jeongguk playfully swung himself around the banister, humming quietly under his breath as he walked down the hallway to the dining room. Reaching the door, he could already see his brother and father at the table, and he greeted them quietly as he made his own way to his seat, dropping down onto the chair once he was opposite his mother’s empty place. They always sat in the same positions around the table, and Jeongguk found that kind of boring, but he knew his parents were strict on the matter, his father at the end, his mother and Jeongguk next to him on either side, his brother on his mother’s other wing. He imagined it was something to do with tradition or habit, but sometimes he wondered if anything would change if he just sat a metre away from where he normally did, whether the room would explode like his parents acted the effect would be.
Almost immediately after his father gave a small warm greeting of his own, Jeongguk’s mother was bustling into the room, hands carrying a large pot which she set in the middle of the table. It smelled good, better than it did from a distance by far, and both Jeongguk and his brother chimed in with compliments about the smell, his mother smiling at the words. She pulled out her chair, but seemed to glance on something that was on the seat, a hand coming forwards to pick up a small pile of papers which had been resting there. The sight made something in Jeongguk’s chest coil, but he didn’t quite understand why, mind focused on wandering what had been left on his mother’s chair.
“Gukkie, I think this work is yours,” she hummed, and Jeongguk tried to think if he had left anything on the seat, most of his things kept in his room.
As he searched his memory, his mother started to flick through the pile, probably just to make sure she had gotten the right owner, before she stopped at one of the pages. It was relatively near the back of the stack, and Jeongguk could hazard a guess that she had found one of his pages full of nothing but drawings, preparing himself for the light scolding from his parents and a reminder for him to work harder. Uncertainty bloomed in his chest, however, when a frown grew on his mother’s face, and her eyes started to dart from the page to Jeongguk and back again, before her eyes widened.
“What is it, dear?” His father asked in concern, and wordlessly his mother handed the one page over to curious hands, the white sheet thin enough for Jeongguk to see the dark lines on the other side.
It felt like a punch in the gut, the realisation of what exactly was on the page, and a small pool of panic began to grow like an infestation of fungus in his stomach. It was unmistakable, the lines of two people, the two boys he had drawn kissing a few days ago when his mind was wandering while trying to get through an essay, delicate features of the couple, one male looking strikingly like Jeongguk himself. He had no clue how the drawing could possibly have gotten downstairs, until he remembered his search for the pen he had misplaced and tried to find even under the table, probably putting his papers on the chair so his hands were free.
“Jungkook,” his father said slowly, and it made Jeongguk swallow the lump in his throat, trying to keep himself from showing any emotions at all.
“Yes, appa?” he answered, and he almost choked as his father’s eyes met his, the dark shadow in his irises something the younger had never seen before in his life.
The whole situation quickly triggered Jeongguk’s fight or flight response, and every nerve in his body was begging him to flee, to run away and hide in his room until everyone forgot about the careless mistake he had committed. He had never even hinted to his parents that he was anything other than straight, anything straying from the status quo, and it was because of the little comments his family made about things like this. It was the rolling eyes when same sex marriage was legalised in other countries, visual disgust when there had been two female tourists kissing in a park near to the city centre, the muttered words in the church they used to force Jeongguk to attend as a child, ‘You shall not lie with a male as with a female; it is an abomination’.
Even when Jeongguk held no similar belief, had realised that he was perfectly normal through the internet, the international media, he knew his parents thought differently. They were traditional beings, people concerned with religion in a way Jeongguk didn’t understand. The old lady who lived almost next to them on their road attended the church too, and yet Jeongguk had seen her wearing a knowing smile when a man had left another of their neighbour’s homes early in the morning, the owner of the house giving a small wave from his window with a blush. Jeongguk didn’t understand why his parents couldn’t do the same, but he knew he was asking too much from such creatures of nature as they were.
That was why he was barely breathing as his father seethed in silence, the frown on his face deepening as though he couldn’t find the words to say, and Jeongguk wouldn’t be surprised. Throughout his life, he had made sure to hide the part of his mind that concerned itself with matters of the heart, instead just smiled and nodded as his mother rambled about wives and weddings, when she tried to tease him whenever he mentioned a female friend at school. He hadn’t planned to tell them yet, or at all if he had to, and it was like a tsunami was looming behind his father’s figure as he finally opened his mouth.
“What is this?” He asked quietly, but Jeongguk didn’t let the level of volume fool him into security, knowing the worst anger his parents had was that of ice and stone.
“Um, it’s just a drawing I did,” Jeongguk mumbled in answer, deciding to tell the truth instead of spin himself into lies, a dangerous thing that could end even worse than the situation he was in now, if that was even truly possible.
“And why,” his father continued to question, taking a deep breath after the first words. “Why is it a drawing that you did?” He finished, and the atmosphere around them was silent, like the calm before the storm, air crackling with the tension that was just waiting to explode.
Internally, there was a siren that was endlessly screaming inside Jeongguk’s head, and his whole body felt like it was underwater, everything starting to blur from a lack of air, limbs heavy with fatigue. Scanning through his mind, he couldn’t think of one single way this conversation could end well, knowing his family would never understand, would never try to understand him in the ways he needed. They were like the immovable object that was about to be hit by the unstoppable force, and the force has turned out to be Jeongguk’s very being, the essence of who he was in its purest form.
“I don’t know,” Jeongguk murmured quietly as his response, and all the hope he had for hiding himself from his family drifted out of their windows like smoke from a house fire, the flames burning everything he held dear to his heart.
“Do you understand what this is?” His father pressed again, and this time his voice was getting louder, Jeongguk trying to concentrate on anything but the disappointment dripping from the older man’s lips. “Do you understand that it’s unnatural?” He spat, eyes flicking again to the innocently white piece of paper, the cause of the explosion of grief, anger.
Not even waiting for Jeongguk’s response, he gripped the drawing in both hands and pulled in opposite directions, a tear ripping through the page directly through the drawing, separating the two boys kissing almost perfectly into half. The action was in perfect synchronisation with the cracks which cleaved Jeongguk’s heart in two, the pain in his chest making him feel as though blood would start pooling on the front of his shirt in a permanent stain, a red patch which would remain on his skin until the day he died.
As if it was the hardest thing to do, his father dropped the paper from his hands, fists immediately curling back into themselves once the paper was floating to the floor. For a moment, Jeongguk wondered of his father wanted to hit him, knuckles clenched so tight that the normally olive skin was glowing white, the colour draining as it was stretched over bone. His parents had never even gestured to Jeongguk or his brother in anger, there had never been a hint or sign of violence between their walls, but there was still the fear when his parents truly had something to hate Jeongguk for, when they would change their whole perception of him as a person.
“Get up,” the man gruffly commanded, jerking one of his hands in the direction of the door on the other side of the ice cold room.
“What?” Jeongguk choked quietly, and now he could feel the tears starting to burn behind his eyes, the liquid which stung as it made his vision blur like an old picture.
At that, his father slammed his fists onto the table, making the cutlery shake and sound quiet noises as they made contact with the delicate porcelain plates, still set up for a peaceful family dinner. It made Jeongguk flinch back, and he could see his mother and brother echoing the same action, everyone leaning away from the embodiment of anger at the head of the table. For a second, his mother seemed to reach forwards, as though she was going to try and quell his fury, but she took another glance over at Jeongguk and stopped herself, the cracks digging even deeper into his heart.
“Get. Up,” his father punctuated as he spoke, voice becoming rougher and rougher as he got up from his seat and stalked closer. “And go and collect some of your things from upstairs,” he commanded, nothing gentle as he grabbed Jeongguk’s arm, pulling him to his feet from the chair and shoving him in the direction of the door. “I’m not going to have someone like you under my roof,” he snarled, giving the younger another push, making Jeongguk stumble over his feet.
Even when this was even a possibility that flashed through Jeongguk’s head the moment he saw the drawing in his parent’s possession, he never really thought they would tell him to leave, cast him out as soon as he was no longer the perfect child they wanted. Jeongguk loved his parents, loved them more than anything else in the world, unconditionally, no matter what, and he couldn’t understand how they didn’t feel the same. He had hoped, wished, that maybe their love for him would overrule their religion, their beliefs, that maybe their son would be more important than almost anything in the world, but evidently he had thought wrong.
“But, appa…” He could help but almost whisper, trying to stop the sobs that were trying to burst out of his chest like a flock of birds from a cage, but as he met his father’s eyes over his shoulder, all he was met with was stone.
This was a man he no longer recognised, a stranger in front of him that had stolen his father’s skin, made itself at home like a fungus as it slowly killed its host. This wasn’t his father, wasn’t the man that taught him how to write a bike with a large, proud smile, wasn’t the man who muttered soft words paired with soft touches when he had fallen off of his bike the first time and grazed his arm, scared of the blood and broken skin. It was an invader, a mole that had gone undetected and eventually taken over, and there wasn’t a single thing Jeongguk found familiar in the eyes of the person in front of him.
“Only come back when you’ve come to your senses about yourself,” the imitation of his father sneered, pushing Jeongguk out of the dining room before grabbing the metal handle of the door. “Come back when you can actually make us proud,” he said with a final shake of his head, before slamming the door shut, clicking the lock that only worked from the inside.
Jeongguk immediately turned back, tried to open the door with a clumsy turn of the handle, but the panel stayed shut, the barrier around his parent’s fort of tradition stayed strong to Jeongguk’s misery. He tried everything he could think of, banged his fists against the wood to try and get them to let him in, to try and break it down to escape inside, but nothing moved, the door remained as it always had been. It was like a nightmare, the type that Jeongguk would wake up in the middle of the night from and flee to see his mother, let her hug him tightly and tell him everything was okay, that he was safe.
“Appa!” He cried desperately, the sobs finally emerging from his mouth like a flood, but there was nothing from his father from behind the door, not a single answer. “Appa, eomma, please!”
“He said go, Jeongguk,” his mother said from inside the dining room, her own voice sounding as broken as Jeongguk’s own, the words feeling like a knife slipping between his ribs.
The tears blurred Jeongguk’s vision like there was fingerprints all over his pupils, like an old filter had been slotted into his mind and made him feel dizzy, drunk, stumbling as he climbed the stairs, tears ripping down his face like a river. He was barely thinking as he grabbed his bag, emptied it of schoolwork, the work he did for his parents, let the paper fall like rain to the floor as he clumsily pulled open draws, piling in things he thought he might need, clothes, a toothbrush, toothpaste, trying to think while his mind was trying to protest even the hint of the idea of leaving, but he had no choice.
He couldn’t remember going back down the stairs, leaving the door and everything he had known behind, running away from the only home he had ever lived in. He could barely feel his lungs burning as he refused to stop, heavy footfalls as he ran in any direction, barely thinking as he just tried to get away, barely facing reality as he hoped if he ran far enough everyone would forget and he would be able to go home. There was panic in his chest, anxiety that made his nerves spark, and a shooting pain in his leg make everything flash brightly all around him.
There was just pain everywhere, the only thing he could focus on as his eyes fluttered open, heavy lids protesting the movement, begging to stay shut, begging to just give up. Blinking, he could see his leg still stretched out in front of him, still bent in a way it shouldn’t be able to, still sending stabbing pains right through him whenever he so much as twitched. If he had to choose, then he would probably comfortably conclude that his efforts to set the bone right had just made the pain worse, a deep throbbing spanning the entirety of the limb, as though acid was being poured over the skin by the bucket load.
Instead of the panic that had been running through him like a river, now the emotions filling his body felt more hopeless, the feeling growing stronger and stronger as he thought over his situation. There was nowhere he could go, nobody he knew to call for help, and with his leg hurting the way it was, he didn’t think he could try and change anything for himself. Jeongguk felt like he was in an animal documentary, the narrator slowly explaining that with his injuries, his prospects of surviving much longer were slim to none, especially when he had no pack around him to help, alone in the world with a pretty impactful handicap.
It was the imagery of dark shadows gathering around him with gleaming teeth and sharp claws that cemented Jeongguk’s desperation into a form that looked more like determination, and he shook his head in frustration, not letting his own mind decide his fate so soon. Even if his leg felt like agony, even if the rest of his limbs were heavy with fatigue and strain, he refused to let himself give up so soon. After all, that was the whole reason he was here in the first place, not giving up who he was just for his parents, not hiding parts of himself just to make them love him, the false persona he was projecting. Giving up just wasn’t in Jeongguk’s nature, and so he took a deep breath, the voice in his head shouting words of motivation as he began to push himself up from the floor with his dirty hands.
The first attempt ended just as well as he had predicted, the pain coming from his leg so intense that he had immediately dropped back onto the floor as soon as weight had been shifted, back where he had just started from. It really was the worst sensation Jeongguk had ever had to endure, worse than any of the injuries he had ever had in the past, worse than the heartbreak of his family abandoning him to the world, worse than the weight of his parents’ joint disappointment at the person he had become as he grew. As much as Jeongguk felt the need to scream, shout at how much it hurt, he only let himself release a strained curse, knowing attracting attention wasn’t the best idea when he could do nothing to defend himself.
The second attempt went better, better than Jeongguk thought it would if he was being honest with himself, pushing hands up and sheer force of will bringing his healthy leg under his body, leaving him in a sort of half-crouched position, broken leg rested limply in front of him. There wasn’t the flames of agony that told him he had moved it too much, and for that fact Jeongguk found himself feeling more grateful than he thought he had ever been before, shouting his thankfulness in his mind to anybody who would listen. It was that emotional high that gave him the strength to push up with his good leg, hands on the wall behind him, pure adrenaline allowing him to nearly stand up straight, leg sparking as it was dragged to hang below him.
Even as he lent most of his weight on the wall, he heard victory bells chime in his ears in a throbbing ring at the fact he had defied the statistics he had created for himself, relief flowing through him at the fact he wasn’t going to be stuck on the floor forever. If he could stand, then he might be able to move, even if it was through hopping and depending on the wall for stability, there being no way he would be able to walk when his leg hurt this much when there wasn’t a single ounce of strain on the limb. It was baby steps, but there was hope blooming in Jeongguk’s chest, the flower small, but definitely there, hidden in the meadow of anxiety and fear.
There was a victorious smile on his face as he let himself begin to think of what he was going to do next, but the expression melted away like ice on a summer’s day as he heard footsteps behind him, walking closer and closer along the dark alleyway he had presumed nobody would walk down for a while. On instinct, he whipped his head around, almost pulling a muscle in his neck as he tried to pinpoint the person approaching him, eyes darting until they focused on a figure moving closer. Fire built in his stomach, panic growing as he knew he should probably run but couldn’t, couldn’t move from his point without trying to take an embarrassing hop.
Jeongguk had no other option than to watch as the figure came even closer, the shadows of the alleyway obscuring their appearance until they stepped into a patch of light, letting Jeongguk see them clearly. There was a frantic fear in his blood as his eyes took in every detail they could of the man who had emerged, heart beating like that of a mouse trapped in the corner of a room by a cat. He tried to think, think, but all he could do was watch in silence as the man stopped, pausing a few metres away from where Jeongguk was frozen in place.
A handsome face was complimented by pitch black hair, a fancy suit tailored to the other’s body like it was designed with only him in mind, every stitch calculated to how best it could frame his body in the most perfect way. He was taller than Jeongguk, not to the extreme of towering over him but taller all the same, but he looked slimmer, broad shoulders paired with a narrow waist, lean legs, a sharp jaw which could probably cut glass. If wealth had a corporal form, it would definitely be the man in front of him, not even in his clothes or the jewellery that sparkled from one of his ears, his fingers. It was in the way he held himself, back perfectly straight, head held high, eyes carefully scanning over Jeongguk’s from like he was a specimen in a museum, as though he was judging his worth to the world.
Being aware of the danger he was in, how vulnerable he was in his current state, Jeongguk held his tongue, knowing saying something wrong right now could really do some harm. People dressed like the man in front of him just didn’t come to the side of the city he was in, not unless they were doing something shady, something illegal, which meant the other could be dangerous, probably carried around something to defend himself with if he was half as smart as he looked to be worth. On a normal day, it was a bad idea to antagonise someone who held power in this sort of area, and the stakes just climbed higher when Jeongguk considered his leg, the fact he couldn’t run.
“Bad night?” The man asked, finally speaking and breaking the tense silence that had been taking up all of the air in the alleyway, so thick Jeongguk could barely breathe.
The question struck Jeongguk dumb, and he stayed quiet with a racing heart and mind as the man stepped even closer, holding out his hands as though he was trying to calm the younger down, not very effective when the gleam of metal could be seen just inside his blazer, a gun. Even so, Jeongguk didn’t move as the space between them got lower and lower, couldn’t when he wasn’t able to place the smallest amount of pressure on his leg without buckling, not wanting to seem too weak when he was under such scrutiny. Closer, closer, until the man was right next to him, looking down at his leg in thought.
“That looks pretty painful,” he hummed, and Jeongguk watched with wide eyes as he crouched down, reaching out but not touching the limb which was covered by fabric, only examining it. “What are you going to do to help that?”
It was as though there was a disconnect between Jeongguk’s mouth and his mind, his lips and tongue refusing to move into the shapes he asked for in order to speak. It was a mix of fear and confusion at the whole situation that was allowing his body to disobey orders, even when he knew not answering a direct question could get him in trouble. He knew to be wary, defensive, careful of anyone that approached him when he was a nobody who lived on the street, and that was fighting with the compelling need to answer the other’s words, making his head hurt and his blood run through his body as fast as a rushing river.
“Listen, my name is Kim Seokjin,” the man introduced himself, and Jeongguk knew the name, of course he did, the person in front of him one of the richest people in the country, the world. “And I’m willing to help you, if you want me to.”
With how the couple had risen to global fame particularly in the last few years at a trajectory nobody else could even dream to match, there was no chance Jeongguk hadn’t heard of the man in front of him and his partner. In a country which could be hateful to anything that wasn’t straight, it had always felt like a victory in Jeongguk’s chest that a gay couple had conquered the entire state, continent, the whole world, and he was kicking himself about how he hadn’t managed to recognise Seokjin sooner when he was such an important figure in Jeongguk’s life. Despite the knowledge that wealthy people only came to the area to do bad things, he was leaning towards letting Seokjin help him, especially when he was in the situation he was in. This could be the only chance Jeongguk had, the only chance at being safe, even if it ends up that Seokjin is actually an evil tyrant, or he ends up trying to return him to his family. Jeongguk wasn’t anything right now if he wasn’t desperate.
“Y-yeah, yeah,” Jeongguk accepted, throwing caution out of the metaphoric window, just wanting the pain in his leg to get better, choosing to trust that the elder’s intentions were true. “’M Jeongguk,” he muttered quietly, feeling shy at the assuring smile that Seokjin sent in his direction, not letting his embarrassment at the attention show on his face too much, the underlying fear at the whole situation that was constantly under his skin.
“Well, Jeongguk-ssi, I think you might need some help getting to my car,” Seokjin murmured with a small smile, and he offered a hand out, one that the younger grabbed after a moment of hesitation, letting that be an affirmative sign that contact was okay.
An arm was slid around his waist, and Seokjin let Jeongguk lean the majority of his weight onto him as they began to walk in the direction the other had come from, talking a few steps before the younger was stopping in his tracks. He had almost forgotten his backpack, and as much as he wanted to leave everything behind him, this was something he wasn’t ready to let go of yet, not until he really knew he was safe. His pausing in his tracks obviously caught Seokjin’s attention, and he didn’t even need to speak before the other was following his line of attention, quickly letting go to pick the bag up and throw it over one of his shoulders before they were walking again.
Overall, it was a painfully slow process, not just in the sense that it took a long time but painful in the fact that Jeongguk’s leg burned with every step, almost making stinging tears come into his eyes. That, however, was a line Jeongguk wouldn’t cross just yet, still wanting a part of his guard up around someone he had just met, not wanting his castle walls lowered just to be attacked and defeated. Seokjin seemed to be a good person, but that wasn’t warrant enough to gain his trust immediately, Jeongguk knowing people could turn on you in a single instance far too well from his own life.
After what felt like hours but had only lasted mere minutes, the sight of the main road was able to be spotted, along with a number of figures in plain black and white suit sets. They were all dressed formally, stood to attention like Seokjin was royalty, and Jeongguk supposed he was in a sense to the people of their country, possessing all the riches, power and popularity that a leader needed to thrive. One began to move forwards, as if to help, but Seokjin halted them with a single wave when Jeongguk flinched at the notion of another person coming any closer, the younger not wanting to test his luck at how many people would help him in a day.
“Lee Hyun-ssi,” Seokjin called, causing someone to move closer, but not close enough to make Jeongguk feel too threatened. “Can you deal with the meeting?”
The man he was talking to was short, dressed in a suit that was more distinctive than that of the others around him, a black necktie positioned neatly over a subtly patterned white shirt. Round glasses sat on the man’s nose, and they glinted in the low light of the evening as he gave a nod to Seokjin’s words, before turning away to converse with some of the other people standing around. With his request fulfilled, Seokjin began to walk again, approaching one of the many expensive black cars parked along the road, someone opening the door for him before he started to help Jeongguk inside.
Briefly, a thought fluttered through the younger’s head, the lesson that you shouldn’t go with a stranger no matter what they said echoing in his ears, but he squashed it back down immediately like a bug on a wall. If he didn’t get help from Seokjin, then he would get help from nobody, and Jeongguk wasn’t ready to die yet because he couldn’t provide for himself, because he was hurt and had nobody to help him when he couldn’t even walk without aid. People had never taught him what to do if he found himself without anywhere to go, and so he made the conscious decision to ignore all the other lessons stuffed into his mind by the people who raised him, instead just going with what was happening around him.
That was the mentality he had as Seokjin helped him get settled into a seat, climbed into the back of the car after him with the door shutting behind them, one man in a suit in the passenger seat and another beginning to drive them away. For the whole journey to wherever they were going, Jeongguk was silent, kept himself guarded as he tried to think of all the positive things that could come out of this situation, remembered as much as he could about Seokjin and his partner, Namjoon, recalling something about adopted sons in the back of his head. He didn’t let himself hope, but he didn’t concentrate on the dark side of what could happen because he got into a stranger’s car, trying to keep his head positive or empty in an attempt to stay sane.
Arriving at a hospital began to erode his doubts, but watching how the medical staff who were fixing his leg and other injuries glanced with something alike to fear in Seokjin’s direction resurrected every bad thing in his head, even when the elder gave him a reassuring smile. Seokjin held his hand as the bone was set, leg pulled and moved until the bone could be coerced back into position, Seokjin let Jeongguk grip onto his fingers as tightly as he could at the pain, the younger doing everything not to let a shout fall from between his lips at the agony. It was just soft looks and careful touches as Jeongguk picked a red cast for his leg, trousers removed and replaced with something looser, cleaner, allowing the thicker bandages to be wrapped around his broken bone to help it heal.
A pair of grey metal crutches replaced Seokjin as Jeongguk’s help as he moved, and the younger felt better as he moved on his own accord, slowly trailing behind the taller male as they left the hospital. Jeongguk couldn’t help but feel suspicious of the fact the staff didn’t even ask for his name, let alone his details, or anything else that was normal when someone had to be treated by medical professionals, them bypassing the receptionist’s desk all together like it hadn’t even existed, like it wasn’t something you needed to do as the first step. But the thoughts in Jeongguk’s head just couldn’t bring themselves to paint Seokjin in a negative light, not now that he had been treated and checked, now that he was again being helped into the car and his dirty backpack was still in the back not having moved a single centimetre from its place when they left.
As much as curiosity was burning in Jeongguk’s mind, words threatening to emerge from his throat, he didn’t ask where they were going, not when they pulled into the car park for Busan Station, getting out of the car just to board a train to Seoul immediately after. It was a change to be sitting in first class, Seokjin telling him that he had gotten two seats for Jeongguk so that he could prop up his leg, the elder himself sitting in just another seat over, the other people in suits that had come with them dotted around the pair in the carriage. As the landscape started to pass by as the train left the station, a blur of buildings in the dark evening outside the window, Jeongguk embraced the opportunity to rest, ignoring the want to be alert and on guard in favour of giving into the fatigue he felt in every inch of his body, Seokjin only giving him another small smile before he was letting his vision go black.
Seoul station was somewhere Jeongguk had been before when travelling the country with his parents, but it somehow felt different when Seokjin was slipping a black mask over his face, giving Jeongguk an identical mask to do the same before they left the train, the younger pulling himself along with his crutches, finally getting into the rhythm of the movement. It was dark, the train ride probably taking just under three hours, but the city of Seoul never seemed to sleep, the station still crowded despite the late hour. The rest Jeongguk had managed to get had worked wonders, and now he felt less like he was a corpse walking, and he took the energy he was feeling in his stride to find out more about what he had gotten himself into.
“Where are we going?” He finally asked, knowing the question probably sounded stupid when they had already travelled from one side of the country to another.
Even so, Seokjin answered with a smile that they were going to the apartment he lived in, that Jeongguk was welcome to stay there if he wished, that he and Namjoon had already taken in four other boys who had needed a home when they found them. The car drive to their final destination was finally something other than silent, and Jeongguk enjoyed trading off questions with Seokjin to pass the time, not letting the dark cloud of explaining the situation with his parents put a shadow over the excitement he felt at having the chance to have a family again. Seokjin had approached the subject with the utmost caution, and a simple ‘my parents didn’t like that I was gay and artistic’ dismissed the topic without any additional awkwardness, and so Jeongguk counted it as a success in his book.
With how they were talking, Jeongguk barely watched the world outside his window until they were passing through the most affluent areas of Gangnam, where modern buildings were illuminated by bright street lights, seeming to glow in the dark. It looked like a whole different world to where Jeongguk had come from, like something out of a science fiction movie, or a dystopian novel, years in the future of where they were now in time. Seokjin let them fall silent again as Jeongguk admired the sight out of the window, wide eyes tracing every street and sight, and he barely paid attention until they were finally starting to slow down, before driving up to a large silver gate.
Turning his head, Jeongguk watched as their driver gave a hand gesture at another man who was in a small compartment next to the gate, the bars sliding open once a returning gesture was shot in their direction. The car started again, and the buildings became much more spaced out, large apartment complexes surrounded by green space and features like statues and fountains, and it seemed like a fitting place for someone like Seokjin to live, the area so clean it was as though nobody had ever set foot behind the gate but them. Flowers were visible thanks to small lights in the stainless stone pavement, pinks and purples like fireworks on the ground, and Jeongguk mused that since entering the gate it was like he passed into another world, somewhere alien and yet so familiar all at once.
Around another smooth bend in the road, and the car was pausing again, but this time there was no gate, instead there was a large building which looked to be made of glass and a white sort of stone. The car was stopped, and the person seated in the passenger seat climbed out the car, opening the door closest to Seokjin with a small bow. The elder just nodded at the action, before gracefully moving himself to stand on the pavement, a small smile and inviting hand offered in Jeongguk’s direction, one which he accepted gratefully. He must have looked a sight, hopping out of the car before Seokjin grabbed his crutches and his backpack, throwing the latter over his own shoulder as he started to lead the way to the building ahead of them.
There was a code needed for the large glass door, and Seokjin entered it as Jeongguk looked behind him, at the car that was now leaving and the man in a suit that was walking to join them at the entrance of the building. With how the people were following them around, Jeongguk supposed they were probably bodyguards, not colleagues like he had first presumed in the alleyway, especially when he caught sight of more people in suits standing at attention inside the building once they stepped through the door, Seokjin leading the way to the metal doors of a lift. Pressing the up arrow, it was only a moment before the lift arrived, the guard behind them not following them as the doors slid shut.
There wasn’t any lift music, but one of the walls was completely glass, and Jeongguk could watch the reflection of Seokjin pressing the button for the very top floor as he also looked outside, wide eyes watching as they began to climb higher as the lift started to rise. It was Seokjin clearing his throat that brought his attention back to the interior of lift, the elder moving to lean against one of the sides of the small space they were in, watching Jeongguk with soft eyes and a kind smile.
“I think I should tell you that people might be excited to meet you,” Seokjin hummed, looking fond at the thought of what was going to come once the lift reached its destination, and Jeongguk blinked at the warning. “Most of the kids can be quite loud and eager, and so don’t feel too intimidated if they seem to come at you at level a thousand,” he laughed, and Jeongguk felt a hint of apprehension in his gut, hands gripping his crutches.
Even when he hadn’t had to be paranoid and careful when he was living in his own home, Jeongguk had never really felt the need to surround himself with other people, content with a small social bubble where the main focus was things like anime or comic books. Despite a confidence he made himself build as he expanded in his interests, acting as though he was never fazed when he was competing in athletic tournaments, making himself seem untouchable at school so others wouldn’t bother him with bad intentions, really he felt quite nervous when he interacted with others he didn’t know very well. He sometimes struggled with interacting with friends he thought he was close to, the reason he was living on the street instead of seeking help, not wanting the embarrassment, the shame.
Sucking in a deep breath, he crutched his way after Seokjin when the doors of the lift opened, coming out into a bright space with white walls and floor, a single door with another code needed in front of them, bracketed by framed paintings with little plaques of writing. The lift leaving almost made him jump, his body now as tense as it was when he first decided to trust the elder man beside him, and for a moment he mused the idea that Seokjin really had been lying the whole time and behind the door was a prison, or a torture chamber or something, but that seemed unlikely with how as soon as the door was opened an inch by Seokjin, the sound of two people arguing could be heard from inside.
Opening the door wider caused the voices to quiet, and Jeongguk let his eyes fall to the floor as he followed Seokjin into the apartment, taking slow strides with his crutches, not wanting to look up when he heard footsteps approaching them. The elder beside him toed off his shoes, and Jeongguk wished he could do the same out of politeness, but with his leg broken he couldn’t take off the one shoe he was wearing, the other having been stores in the bad Seokjin was now putting down by the door. Seeming to notice his dilemma, the other crouched down to help get the remaining trainer off, leaving it by Jeongguk’s backpack.
“Hyung?” Someone called, and a set of bare feet padded closer, followed by another walking at a slower pace. “Oh! This is Jeonggukie, right?”
At the mention of his name, especially with no formal honorific added onto the end, Jeongguk looked up to see two teenage boys around his own age, examining him with careful eyes. One was shorter and paler, with chubby cheeks and dark hair, but Jeongguk didn’t let that fool him with the way thighs and arms looked so toned outside of his t-shirt and shorts. The other boy stood right next to the first, taller, darker skin, ears adorably pronounced from his head, body slimmer but still looking mildly athletic in build. The way the two were studying him made him feel unsettled, even if they seemed friendly enough, something about their eyes looked more calculated than anything else, as though they were sizing him up like prey.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin hummed, gesturing at the pair in front of them. “This is Jimin and Taehyung,” he said, the two nodding as their names were mentioned, and it was good to put a name to each oddly serious face.”Where is everyone else?” Seokjin asked, Jeongguk looking around the room they were in on instinct at the mention of more people, even when there wasn’t anyone else but the people he had just met.
“I think Joon hyung and Hobi hyung are in the office,” Jimin answered, looking to Taehyung beside him who nodded at the words. “Yoongi hyung is in his bedroom, I don’t think he’s felt very well today.”
Nothing seemed odd about what Jimin had said, but once he finished Seokjin was frowning, eyes darting in the direction of one hallway with a worried look on his face. It was probably where the person who felt unwell was, the worry surely not coming from some people being in an office, especially when Jeongguk knew the family was very business orientated, with both Seokjin and his partner as joint CEOs of an international corporation which was placed on every list of most successful brands in the world.
“Jimin, could you fetch Namjoonie and Hobi for me, please?” Seokjin asked, the shorter teen nodding and going through a doorway Jeongguk hadn’t noticed until now. “Tae, can you see if Yoongi can come and join us, tell him we have a new guest he might like to meet,” the eldest addressed to the other teenager, who didn’t protest as he made his way through the hallway that Seokjin had glanced at with worry. “Now, Jeonggukie, let’s get you sat down, hm?”
Seokjin helped him over to one of the expensive sofas, the fabric feeling like a million won beneath his hands as he lowered himself down to the cushions, careful not to jolt his leg in the process. The elder fussed over him for a second, something that made Jeongguk push down a blush, enjoying the parental affection he had been missing since he left his whole family behind. As soon as Seokjin seemed to deem him settled, he straightened his posture from where he had been bent over, and the moment he moved away there were voices coming from where Jimin had disappeared off to, people coming closer and closer.
Jimin appeared again, and behind him was another teenage boy, who flashed a large, heart-shaped smile as soon as he spotted Jeongguk, a face like the sun on the clearest summer day. A man emerged as well, taller than the two teens, and the small smile he sent in Jeongguk’s direction made little dimples appear on his cheeks, handsome face even more attention drawing. He looked almost like a god, and the younger’s attention was drawn to the thighs he could see through the man’s trousers, and Jeongguk was sure a bright red blush was over his cheeks like in an anime. It was unfair, how both Seokjin and Namjoon could be so handsome, almost like supermodels from the front page of a fashion magazine.
“Jeonggukie, this is Hoseok,” Seokjin introduced, the new teenage boy giving an even wider smile as he draped an arm over Jimin, waving with the other hand. “And this is my partner, Namjoon,” he continued, and the other man gave a small nod as he was introduced, Jeongguk not able to do nothing but shyly smile in their direction.
It wasn’t awkward, per sé, but Jeongguk definitely felt out of place as the rest of the room started conversing, Seokjin and Namjoon talking about something to do with their work (‘what did Schulz say in your meeting this morning about the European merge?’ ‘There hasn’t been much progression, but the board has approved the offer we made and is open to further talks’), the teenagers talking about the video game that was loaded onto the TV (‘‘Taehyung totally cheated!’ ‘You both probably cheated, you always do’). It was a few minutes before there were footsteps from behind them, and Taehyung emerged, pausing for a minute as he looked over his shoulder, holding a hand out in the direction of the obscured hallway.
There was a second of nothing before a pale hand emerged from behind the wall, grasping onto the one Taehyung was offering, and a smaller figure stepped out from where Jeongguk couldn’t see, standing next to Taehyung with bunched up shoulders. It was as though Jeongguk’s breath had been stolen right from his lungs as he looked at the person who had come out last, eyes taking in everything they could of delicate pale features, cat like eyes and pretty pink lips. The teenager was so pretty, looking practically fragile in oversized clothes, thin ankles and wrists giving away that his true size was obscured from view.
“Jeongguk,” Seokjin called, making wide eyes look back to the elder, who had a slight frown on his face as he looked over the younger. “This is Yoongi,” he introduced, and Jeongguk looked back at the smaller figure, who didn’t do anything other than look in Jeongguk’s direction with curious eyes, which darted away as soon as they met with Jeongguk’s own.
Yoongi was adorable, Jeongguk quickly decided, eyes locked onto the person who looked to be the shortest in the room, maybe only taller than Jimin by a small amount. There was something unexplainable in the younger’s chest as he watched the other, and he didn’t quite know why it was Yoongi he was most drawn to in the room, there being so many things flashing through his head all at once. In such an alien environment, Yoongi looked to be the most harmless, but also the most vulnerable, and there was a pull in Jeongguk’s gut that just wanted to swoop in and take the other into his arms, shield him from the world and the things the younger knew from his time living on the sides of roads. He just had the urge to protect Yoongi from anything and everything, even with his broken leg, even when he didn’t know about the other except for his name, his pretty, pretty name which matched his pretty, pretty face.
He only noticed that he might have said that out loud when there was laughter coming from the others in the room, Yoongi blushing with a pretty pink colour decorating his cheeks, but it strangely didn’t bother him. Jeongguk’s guard was completely up with everyone else in the room other than Seokjin, and so to feel his walls be willing to be lowered around Yoongi was an odd feeling, especially when he shouldn’t be able to trust anyone just yet, even if they had shown nothing but kindness. Just something about Yoongi made Jeongguk sure he had nothing to gain from the younger’s company, a different thought to his suspicions of everyone else in the room, and it made him feel already attached to the small figure, wanting to be next to him instead of metres away on the couch.
“Okay, why don’t you let me and Namjoon talk to Jeongguk for a little while,” Seokjin spoke up, but Jeongguk didn’t look away from Yoongi, only blushing when the other finally let his eyes dart to the younger, a matching red hue on his own pale cheeks. “I think you should all get ready for bed.”
As soon as Yoongi turned to leave with the others, a jolt of Jeongguk’s heart felt like it was being torn away, and he wanted to ask the other to stay, ask for him to never leave the taller’s side, but he knew it would be weird, would probably make the other uncomfortable. Instead, he watched with a growing sadness in his chest as Taehyung patted the other on the arm before releasing his hand, moving to jump on Jimin when the other reached where the pair was stood, Yoongi disappearing around the wall with one more subtle glance at the sofa, so small Jeongguk only noticed because he was watching.
“Jeongguk,” Seokjin called, and it finally brought the youngest’s attention back to the older couple in front of him, the both of them now sat on a sofa to his side, the perfect angle to have a conversation between.
To his surprise, it was Namjoon that did the majority of the talking; starting on offering an arrangement to live with them, to become part of their family due to his circumstance, due to the fact he didn’t want to go back to his parents in Busan. The elder explained that they had taken the others in too, Hoseok when he had run away from a divorced home with an absent father and drug addict mother, Jimin and Taehyung from where they had been living on the streets as orphans. The mention of Yoongi’s name made his interest grow the most, and Namjoon explained that they had found him on the roof of a building, had talked him down and found out that his father had just died and he had nowhere else.
“Listen, Jeongguk,” Seokjin finally spoke up again, fixing a serious expression on his face, one hand clasped in his partner’s, the other in his lap. “We couldn’t help but notice your interest in Yoongi, and you need to know some things, okay?” He said firmly, and Jeongguk nodded without saying a word. “He’s had a rough time, and so you need to be delicate with him.”
“His father was abusive, physically and verbally, and so he doesn’t react well to violence, to sudden movements or sounds, to shouting,” Seokjin explained quietly, Jeongguk only able to listen to him with his utmost level of attention. “I need you to understand that he’s quite an anxious person, and can be a bit unstable. He’s prone to panic attacks and depressive episodes, and can sometimes resort to hurting himself if he is in a really bad state, and so you need to be really careful.”
With every added word, Jeongguk could feel the protective shield he was crafting just for the other grow more and more intricate, the need to help hide him from the world emerging more and more the longer Seokjin kept talking. He couldn’t explain it, how he already felt so attached to the smaller, how he already cared so much about his wellbeing, his health. Jeongguk was sure there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Yoongi safe, and he wanted to say that out loud, to help settle the fears in Seokjin and Namjoon’s eyes, but he just let the others tell him what they needed to, stayed quiet until it was necessary.
“Yoongi has progressed quite a bit from when we first took him in, but we just want to warn you that you can’t be rough or carefree like with the others, okay?” Seokjin said as almost like a final summary, Namjoon looking just as serious as they watched for Jeongguk’s response.
“I won’t be,” the youngest promised, and Jeongguk knew his words were true, transparent as the clearest glass.
“Just…” Namjoon sighed, letting his eyes close momentarily. “He’s had a really tough time, and so please don’t do anything to make it worse,” he almost begged, and it was a weird situation to be in, Jeongguk not knowing what else to do but agree.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said with a nod, words trying to show the conviction he felt in his heart, in his soul.
“Okay,” Seokjin hummed, sending a small smile in Jeongguk’s direction. “That’s good, thank you for understanding,” he added, and all Jeongguk could do was agree again, knowing he would agree in every lifetime he experienced if the words from the couple stayed the same.
And Jeongguk was careful with the other, who he found out was his hyung, his arrival making Jeongguk the youngest in the family instead of Taehyung. He practically stepped on eggshells when Namjoon and Seokjin reluctantly agreed to them sharing a room, Yoongi having the most space out of him and Hoseok, the other two teenagers already sharing a room. The mattress on the floor was difficult to get up from and down to due to his broken leg, but Jeongguk didn’t even let Yoongi say a word about them swapping, not when he could see how against the idea the other was even when he suggested it with a barely audible mumble.
Like a limpet on a rock, Jeongguk latched onto the other, following him around like a puppy, careful of what he said, what he did, avoiding every single thing he could think of that might upset the person he was most drawn to in the apartment, in his new family. It didn’t take long, practically only days before Yoongi was becoming used to his presence, didn’t seem to mind if Jeongguk sat with him in their room if he needed somewhere quiet, started to accept the younger’s help, even if technically it was Jeongguk with the broken leg. Seeing Yoongi’s scars for the first time made Jeongguk feel a rage in his chest, but he didn’t let that show, only expressed concern if a new red line joined the old white ones, only held Yoongi like glass if he cried.
Just before the end of his first week, Jeongguk woke up in the middle of the night to see Yoongi’s bed empty, sheets thrown haphazardly to the side, door left ajar when it had been shut before they both fell asleep. In his childhood, Jeongguk had been a deep sleeper, but in the duration of him being homeless he had become a light sleeper, which seemed to be a permanent addition to his life as it carried on in his new home. There was a sound from outside, and that was what he supposed woke him up, and Jeongguk clumsily pulled himself off of his mattress on the floor, wishing the bed frame Seokjin had ordered would arrive quicker than in a few days.
Grabbing his crutches, he left the room, following the sounds he could hear from the bathroom down the hall, looking through the door that had been left half open, eyes aching from the bright light from the ceiling. Everything faded away as soon as he focused on the sight in front of him, a number of pill bottles empty on the floor, Yoongi collapsing onto the tiles and not waking up when Jeongguk called. It had all been a blur, screaming for Seokjin and Namjoon, the elder calling an ambulance the minute they set eyes on the scene in front of them, the other teenagers gathering worriedly at the door.
It was in that moment, the panic Jeongguk felt in his chest, his heart, that solidified the promise he made to himself that he would protect Yoongi at all costs, that he would never let the elder suffer like he had before. It was in the private room of the nearest hospital, looking at the pale figure in the too large bed, that Jeongguk swore to himself, to the universe, that he would help Yoongi in any way that he could, and would make him the happiest person in the world if he had to if that was what would keep the other alive, and Jeongguk promised himself he would do it. He would never break a promise.