Chapter Text
Jeongguk drops his glass of water.
It happens in slow motion, really. He feels the condensation on the outside of the cup, feels the water on his fingertips as the glass leaves his hand. He watches it fall, flinches slightly as it crashes against the hardwood floor of his apartment. His hand stays outstretched as he surveys the mess the glass has created on the floor beneath his feet. The jagged edges of the shattered glass stare at him, sends his mind reeling. The shattering sound rings in his ears, a sound that doesn’t seem to end.
Bits of glass surround his feet. One small movement of his right foot and a tiny fragment of glass could get caught in the pad of his big toe. Glass surrounds his entire left foot. One small movement and he’ll have a foot full of glass. The pieces look like the antifreeze in a snow globe, he thinks. It reminds him of when he was small, shaking the snow globes his Grandmother had laying around her house, staring at the snow as it settled from chaos.
Jeongguk shakes his head, attempting to bring himself back to reality in the slightest. His eyes register the glint of a point on a particularly large piece of glass. His breath hitches. He registers a faint shake in his slightly open hand. His eyes unfocus slightly, mind racing and eyes darting around the scene on the floor. He catches the sight of something in his foggy vision, forces his eyes to focus. His eyes trail from the shake of his fingers to the angry red marks of his wrist that he knows run up his arm underneath the long sleeves of his shirt.
His left hand shakes as it reaches to his right wrist, a barely-there touch to the cuts peeking out. The shaking intensifies the more he looks, the more he touches. The more he thinks. His vision starts to tunnel, the glass long forgotten as he pushes a little harder into his wrist. Each touch brings a sting to his skin, the cuts still relatively recent, so he pushes down harder. A particularly hard press re-opens a cut, and for a moment he sees white-hot pain when a fingernail slips into it. It throws him off-kilter, balance lost, and he takes a step to his left. Small shards of the glass cover the bottom of his left foot.
“-guk,” A sound registers in Jeongguk’s mind, but he can’t be sure it’s real. The pads of his fingers focus on the cuts on his arms, droplets of blood caught between his fingerprints as he travels up his arm. He spots another cut that is still red, still angry, barely closed. He goes to re-open it.
“Jeon Jeongguk!” His own name rings loudly through his head and he jerks when he feels a hand wrapped securely around his wandering hand. The glass on the floor jingles when he moves, a reminder that there is still glass in his foot.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Jeongguk snaps his head up to meet Namjoon’s eye. “Jeongguk. Hi.” Namjoon smiles something soft, something sweet, something forced. Jeongguk thinks about trying to smile back, but his brain won’t send signals to his body right now. Namjoon is breathless when he speaks, something the tune of relief in his voice. “Let’s go put something on those, alright? We’ll get the glass out of your foot and we can go sit outside, okay?” Namjoon doesn’t expect a response; he knows Jeongguk can’t respond in highly anxious situations, so he turns around and squats down, “Hop on, Guk.”
Jeongguk doesn’t care about the glass in his foot anymore, pushes down with two feet on the ground, and– ow . Namjoon carries him to Jeongguk’s bedroom, pads to Jeongguk’s bathroom, and places him down on the sink counter. Once he knows Jeongguk is sat down properly, he spins around and looks at Jeongguk. Jeongguk looks back.
Namjoon’s eyes don’t carry pity, they don’t shout tell me what happened at him. It’s an open invitation, Namjoon’s eyes. They say; tell me if you’re comfortable. if not, that’s okay. we’ll work through it. Jeongguk feels the looming pressure behind his eyes, feels himself start to slouch.
“Joon,” Jeongguk croaks, his voice husky and muffled from stress and disuse. “I’m sorry.” His eyes follow Namjoon as he drops everything he’s pulled out on the counter beside Jeongguk, places his hands on Jeongguk’s thighs, soothing pressure.
“No apologies.” He says easily, like it is easy. The lilt of Namjoon’s voice makes a part of Jeongguk believe that it is easy to just– stop apologizing. Namjoon makes Jeongguk feel a little better.
Jeongguk starts crying.
Namjoon wipes away Jeongguk’s tears with his thumbs, even though more just fall in their place, and places himself on the toilet cover. He works his way to Jeongguk’s arms, lifting the fabric of his long sleeve shirt up. He cleans the cuts off with a barely-there kind of touch, a touch that Jeongguk feels grateful for. He applies antiseptic and rubs his thumbs into Jeongguk’s palm when he lets out a pained whine, stops to hold Jeongguk’s hand in his, makes sure Jeongguk is still present mentally, coaxing a few words and hums out of him. He wraps a bandage around the cuts. It goes from his wrist all the way up to his forearm. Jeongguk looks at it and cries.
Namjoon gets up to wash his hands and grab a pair of tweezers. Jeongguk grabs onto the hem of Namjoon’s shirt in a silent plea, pulls Namjoon close enough that he can rest his head on his shoulder.
“I dropped it.” Jeongguk whispers.
“I know, Guk-ah. That’s okay. It happens. I dropped one last week, remember?” Namjoon twists his body to pull Jeongguk into him. Namjoon holds Jeongguk, rubs his hand along his spine. “Hyung’s got you, Guk.”
Namjoon eventually moves from a now sleepy Jeongguk to pick the glass out of his foot, not surprised when Jeongguk doesn’t flinch at the pain. He makes sure he pulls all the glass out, puts some antiseptic on his foot, and wraps that too, just in case. Jeongguk doesn’t recognize Namjoon’s voice when he says, “Go lay down, Jeongguk, I’m gonna clean the kitchen up,” and guides Jeongguk off the sink counter to his bed.
Completely disregarding the earlier offer to sit outside, Jeongguk curls himself up by his pillows. He doesn’t check the time, doesn’t check his schedule to see what lectures he has the next day, doesn’t plug his phone in, doesn’t care, doesn’t care, doesn’t care . The only thing he wants to tend to right now is the sleepy ache deep in his bones, the heavy pressure sitting on his chest and shoulders. He falls asleep.
꧁꧂
“Jeonggukkie, help Jimin and I settle a debate,” Taehyung announces as he drops a kiss to the top of Jeongguk’s head. He plops himself down in the seat to Jeongguk’s right, followed by Jimin on his left.
“Okay.” Jeongguk keeps his head in his book. He’s attempting to finish some homework he forgot to do the previous night before the professor comes in, but every time he reads a sentence of his textbook the words get jumbled in his brain and he squeezes his hands into fists, ready to rip the book to shreds.
“What’s the best Disney movie? I know it’s Tangled ,” Taehyung says.
“It is absolutely not Tangled, it’s Mulan.” Jimin argues.
“As good of a contender Mulan is,” Taehyung leans back in his seat, “ Tangled is better.”
“Do you have a reason as to why Tangled could possibly be better than the first Disney movie with an LGBT character? A movie with a woman who single-handedly saves China? A Disney movie where the movie is actually allowing the woman to be the hero? Not to mention her holding the highest kill count of any Disney character!” Jimin shoots back, hands flying in every direction as he makes his point known.
Taehyung crosses his arms across his chest, almost like he knows he’s been beaten. Regardless, he stands his ground and continues with a huff.
“Rapunzel could literally strangle Mulan with her fucking hair!”
“Mulan could literally cut her hair off? I don’t understand your argument here.” Jeongguk peeks his head at Jimin, visible confusion on his face. He peeks to his right at Taehyung. He looks like a kicked puppy. He locks eyes with Jeongguk and practically begs with his eyes, a silent plea for Jeongguk to back him up.
“I think,” Jeongguk takes a deep breath, still anxious from trying to get his homework done. “I think it isn’t fair to compare those two movies like that. Tangled is a classic that involves a ‘prince charming’ type of character and is supposed to–I don’t know–make you feel good? Woo you, or something? On the other hand—”
“Did you just say that Prince Charming is supposed to ‘ woo ’ you?”
“It’s 9:30 a.m, Tae.” Taehyung throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Point is, Tangled is supposed to tell a classic tale of a princess. It’s a damsel in distress-esque movie. Mulan is about a woman who literally saves China. It feels like a historical drama. I don’t even know if Mulan is technically a Disney princess. Two different genres.”
Jeongguk goes back to his homework. Taehyung and Jimin share a look behind him. “I mean, I understand what you’re saying but that explanation was like, a brain puke. No coherent thoughts there, Jeonggukie.” Jimin puts a hand on Jeongguk’s neck and massages gently. Jeongguk doesn’t bother responding.
Taehyung laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Are you alright, Guk? That’s the most I’ve heard you say in one breath in a while.” Jeongguk knows he said a lot, doesn’t hear any malice in Taehyung’s voice; he’s just stating a fact.
Jeongguk huffs something close to a laugh. “Didn’t sleep much.” He mumbles.
Taehyung lifts Jeongguk’s head from his textbook and squeezes his cheeks until Jeongguk’s lips are in a pointed pout. “My poor Jeonggukie,” he coos. Jeongguk kicks him in the shin. “ Ow , you little shit.”
Taehyung reaches for his shin while Jimin giggles on the other side of him, silently taking Jeongguk’s textbook and finishing the rest of his work for him, just in time for the professor to walk in.
When lunchtime rolls around, Jeongguk meets up with Namjoon at the café on campus. Namjoon has been wary of leaving Jeongguk alone for too long on campus, but Jeongguk and Namjoon’s schedules keep them apart from each other most days; their department buildings on the opposite side of campus.
Jeongguk walks into the café with a slightly disheveled appearance. His hair is mussed from the wind, clothes falling off of his shoulders— since all of his clothes are oversized and comfy— shoes unlaced and tucked into his black boots. When Namjoon gets a closer look, he notices the dark bags under his eyes, the droop that comes with them, a bruise up by his hairline he got a few days ago by walking into his doorframe.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Namjoon starts slowly, voice sickly sweet. “Jeongguk-ah what’s going on with you?” He asks with the lightest of tones, not judging.
Jeongguk shrugs, “I don’t know, hyung.”
Namjoon goes to get both himself and Jeongguk a muffin and some coffee. Jeongguk pulls out his laptop and opens a document for an assignment that isn’t due for another month; he doesn’t want Namjoon’s pity. As much as he feels like he almost deserves it, he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want Namjoon’s help, doesn’t want his pitying looks, doesn’t want his fucking muffin. He doesn’t want to feel like a fucking charity case.
“I’m fine, hyung, I’m not hungry,” Jeongguk says with as much of a smile as he can muster when Namjoon comes back, sets the muffins and coffee on the table.
“You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” He pushes Jeongguk’s laptop screen down so he can see Jeongguk in his slouched position in his chair. “Gotta get something in you or you’ll get a migraine. At least drink the americano, I’ll get you some water to sip on for the rest of the day.”
Jeongguk relents, pulls the muffin in half, starts eating bits of the top. “I had a thought this morning,” Namjoon says, raising an eyebrow at Jeongguk.
“If you’re going to try and explain Shrodinger’s cat thingy to me again I will scream in this café.” Jeongguk says. He raises an eyebrow back at Namjoon and Namjoon laughs across the table, throwing his head back slightly.
“It’s a very easy concept, but I won’t bring it up again if it’s that sore of a topic.” Namjoon says with a chuckle. “Anyway, that’s not my thought. My thought was that maybe you could invite Jimin and Taehyung over for the night?”
Jeongguk puts his muffin back on its plate, narrows his eyes at Namjoon. “Listen dad ,” Jeongguk says, teasing, and Namjoon feigns shock, shoots back a small rude . “why do you want me to have them over?”
“You know how I am, Guk, I’m just–” Namjoon lets out a small sigh. “I’m worried about you, you know? I keep trying to get you out of the apartment but I figured, why not have them over? Maybe it’ll feel the same as leaving the apartment?” Jeongguk picks the chocolate chips out of his muffin. “And you know it’ll be nice, Minnie and Tae have fucking endless energy, it’s exhausting.”
Jeongguk closes his laptop and pushes it aside in favor of talking to Namjoon.
“I know you only met them at orientation and new people are, like, really scary, but you always have a good time with them. Jimin gives you home-made brownies and Tae gives you kisses and cuddles. I don’t see any cons to this.” Namjoon shrugs and takes a bite of his muffin. Jeongguk huffs out a laugh.
Jeongguk pulls out his phone and opens his group chat with Jimin and Tae, typing out a quick ‘ sleepover tonight? ’ to which Jimin responds with ‘ fuck yes i’ll bring brownies and cake and banana milk ’ and Tae responds with ‘ fucking cuddle party tonight bitches get ready to get ur cuddle on or i’ll fight u (ง'̀-'́)ง ’
“Okay,” Jeongguk says, stomach groaning as he looks at the muffin he barely picked at. “they’re staying over tonight.”
Namjoon shoots Jeongguk a bright and grateful smile, says, “Thank you, Jeongguk-ah. Sorry if I sounded like your brother or something.” He takes the muffin from Jeongguk and puts it in the garbage can, sits back down, and sips at the straw of his americano. Namjoon delves into a conversation he had during his philosophy class, asking Jeongguk his thoughts but never letting him answer. Jeongguk likes having conversations like this with Namjoon; ones where Namjoon talks and Jeongguk just listens and laughs and nods. There’s no pressure to answer, no pressure to say something that may not be right, may not be what Namjoon’s looking for in the moment. Jeongguk smiles and lets himself get enveloped in Namjoon’s voice.
Jeongguk watches Namjoon leave the café only after Namjoon had bought him a croissant, had asked him to eat at least half of it before his next class. Jeongguk had taken a deep breath, smiled at Namjoon and said, “Okay hyung. Have fun in class.” He had meant it when he said ‘okay’, so he pulls a book out of his backpack and starts munching on the croissant.
He zones out reading his book, getting lost in the plot when he sees something appear in his peripheral vision. He peers up to see a boy with mint green hair and a dark apron. “Your friend told me to give you this.” He says, sounding like he’s been bothered, sounding like the task of giving Jeongguk a coffee was a burden to his day.
Jeongguk stares at the boy. “Well, I mean he told me to give you a bottle of water when you leave but you look like The Walking Dead so I’m giving you this. Black coffee, lots of espresso shots. Don’t die on the table.” The boy turns around and walks away, sprinting slightly when he sees a customer at the counter.
“What the fuck?” Jeongguk looks at the coffee, doesn’t dare touch it.
His eyes drift back to the minty green boy, clothed in all black. He doesn’t spare Jeongguk a glance. He doesn’t look in Jeongguk’s direction when his chair scrapes the floor and makes a sickly metal sound, or when he throws out a still there, barely touched croissant, or when he puts the coffee back on the counter and slides it in his direction. He doesn’t look when Jeongguk throws his backpack over his shoulder and his sleeves pull themselves up a little too far, white bandages exposed. He doesn’t spare a single breath in Jeongguk’s direction as he walks out of the cafe, quick breaths and heavy shoulders.
꧁꧂
Later, when Jeongguk gets home after his last class, he finds that Jimin and Taehyung have already let themselves in. Namjoon had given them a key a while back, and they take full advantage of it, seeing as though they live in the apartment complex across the street. Taehyung likes to sneak in to steal packs of ramen and other bits and bobs of food he can find, uncaring of if it goes noticed or not. Jimin, on the other hand, likes to sneak in between classes to nap in Jeongguk and Namjoon’s beds. According to Jimin, they’re more comfortable than his and Taehyung’s, but Namjoon thinks he just likes being here sometimes.
Jimin is hanging his head off of the edge of the couch, an anime on in the background when Jeongguk opens the door. “Gukkie!” Jimin tilts his head to try and see Jeongguk right side up. But he tilts himself too far to the right and ends up eating the carpet instead. “Hi Gukkie,” Jimin recovers quickly, stands himself up so he can wrap his arms around Jeongguk as tight as humanly possible. “how were your classes?” He pinches Jeongguk’s cheeks in between his fingers.
Jeongguk makes a noise of discontentment and moves out of Jimin’s grip. “They were fine.” He shrugs. He heads for his bedroom to put his backpack down, all of the books weighing him down and giving him a backache. He doesn’t notice that Jimin has followed him into his bedroom until the door is shut softly and Jeongguk hears it click shut.
“Baby?” Jimin says and Jeongguk knows exactly what he wants, exactly what he’s going to ask.
“What did Joon tell you?” Jeongguk sighs softly.
“Just to be careful about your arms.” Jimin sits himself on Jeongguk’s bed. “Tae’s busy with Joon at the table talking about Pluto.” It’s a silent offer, Jeongguk knows, and these silent offers Jimin gives him are a reason that Jeongguk loves him. Jimin knows when to push, when to pull, when to back off and give Jeongguk space.
“I’m fine, Minnie. It’s fine.” Jeongguk throws his backpack on the bed along with himself next to Jimin.
“Oh, you started a new book?” Jimin picks up the book that slipped out of Jeongguk’s backpack. “Who’s it about?” Jimin flips through the pages and inspects the front and back covers.
“An American serial killer called Israel Keyes. He started killing in 1996 and was captured in 2012. He’s dead now, but nobody really knows how many people he killed nationally, there’s only three confirmed and a possible eight others, but there could be dozens and dozens more.” Jeongguk says half into his blankets. Jimin nods along as Jeongguk explains, his face grim.
“I don’t understand how you read this stuff,” Jimin shudders. “Like, this guy killed people and you’re just–ignoring the fact that the people he killed are real people just to learn about the guy?” Jimin flips the book over to the front, a picture of the serial killer plastered on the cover.
“I mean,” Jeongguk sighs. “yeah. Pretty much.”
“Hey, Guk-ah,” Jimin lays himself down next to Jeongguk. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I know how much you love reading these books.”
Jeongguk huffs out a small laugh that’s paired with a small smile. “I know, you’re fine. You’re also right. The people who write these books and read these books dehumanize the victims the same way they do the killer just to get through the book. Or maybe we just dehumanize the victims because they’re tied to the killer in history? I don’t know. I just–It feels like I’m speaking ill of the dead and it’s weird because I’ve never really thought about it before.”
“Mm,” Jimin wraps his arms around Jeongguk’s torso, places himself on top of Jeongguk, pressing him into the mattress. “Your criminology major is coming out.”
“I spent the last two hours fingerprinting and analyzing. My brain is in Namjoon mode.” Jimin snorts.
“I’m telling him you said that.”
“He’d be confused but flattered.” Jeongguk turns to his side and plops Jimin back on the bed next to him, sits up with a groan.
Jeongguk feels a moment of courage and lifts both of his sleeves up. White bandages wrap all the way from wrist to elbow on both arms. Jimin lets out a soft gasp and Jeongguk flinches, lets Jimin hold his left arm and run a finger lightly over the bandages anyway. Jimin drops his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder.
“I wish I could help, baby. You don’t deserve this.” Jimin whispers so softly, so soft his words feel like cotton candy in Jeongguk’s fingertips. So soft, like the universe isn’t ready to hear it yet.
“Joonie reminds me to clean them every morning and if I wanna bandage them he helps me put antiseptic on them and bandage them,” Jeongguk says, lets his right sleeve fall down. “You don’t have to help, I don’t–I don’t want you to get involved in this stuff, if that makes sense. You don’t deserve that.”
Jimin doesn’t respond, just buries his face deeper into Jeongguk’s shoulder. When Taehyung walks in, Jeongguk doesn’t flinch, just leans his head on top of Jimin’s. Taehyung walks over, fingertips gently touching the bandages on Jeongguk’s right arm. He doesn’t say anything about them, doesn’t ask any questions. Just says, “I love you,” and kisses him on the temple, sits down on the bed next to him and swings his legs up so he can fully engulf Jimin and Jeongguk in a hug. “Monkey hugs!” He says, a bright smile on his face. Jeongguk and Jimin both laugh and lean into him.
“Namjoon!” Taehyung calls suddenly. Namjoon comes padding in, face contorted in confusion. The confusion subsides when he sees them cuddled up together. “Monkey hugs.” Taehyung pulls a foot from behind Jimin and invites Namjoon in wherever he can fit.
“Thank you.” Jeongguk squeaks out. Everyone gives a little squeeze and then relaxes. Jeongguk doesn’t know if Taehyung will give up his hug to let them all have dinner tonight.
꧁꧂
When Jeongguk wakes up the next morning, he feels okay. His head doesn’t hurt like it normally would if he skipped dinner, his body doesn’t feel as much like gelatin as it normally does. A muted part of his brain and belly feel warm. Warm and fuzzy with a settling feeling of comfort. It’s not that he doesn’t like this feeling, the occasions in which he feels this feeling is rare, once in a blue moon.
With the warm, fuzzy feeling comes a hazy brain, a sort of vertigo Jeongguk sometimes feels when his emotions get out of hand.
Currently, Jeongguk’s emotions are out of hand. His active brain screams stop, you’re not okay and you’re not having fun. His muted brain says this is okay, you’re okay right now, that is okay . Emotions are conflicting, the two sides of his brain in an internal screaming match and Jeongguk feels warm and fuzzy and numb.
There’s a faint press of something on his cheek, and when he feels it Jeongguk starts slightly, following the feeling until his eyes meet Taehyung, who is curled into Namjoon with his whole body, but still half turned around so he can poke Jeongguk in the cheek.
“Good mornin’ Jeon,” Taehyung whispers, tilting his head more in Jeongguk’s direction. “how’d you sleep?”
“Really good, actually.” Jeongguk’s starting to come to his senses, haziness not going away and, albeit slowly, the feeling in the fingers and toes is returning.
“That’s really great, ‘Guk!” Taehyung whisper-shouts and Jeongguk has to shush him a little to keep him from waking the other two steadily breathing bodies next to them. “If I could reach you I’d kiss the shit out of you, that’s really great, ‘Guk.”
Jeongguk hums and stares at the ceiling. Taehyung stirs from beside him. “Head okay?” He says.
“Mhm.”
“Body feel okay?”
“Mhm.”
“Can you feel your fingers ‘nd toes?”
“Almost.”
“Can you feel Jimin?”
“No,” Jeongguk peeks over to his right, where a sleeping Jimin has completely invaded his space, lying over half of Jeongguk’s body. His hair is sticking up in all directions, pieces should be ticking Jeongguk’s neck. Jimin’s hand is snaked under where Jeongguk’s nightshirt had ridden up a small bit. Jeongguk should be able to feel the cold of Jimin’s hand, but he can’t.
“Okay,” Taehyung soothes. “that’s okay.”
Jeongguk looks at Taehyung, back at Jimin, then up to the ceiling before declaring he needs to get out of bed. He has class soon, despite Taehyung’s protests that it’s too early for classes. His steps out of bed are loose and wobbly, but he manages to make it over to his closet to grab some clothes for the day.
When he’s out of the shower, everyone’s in the kitchen eating various forms of breakfast before they all go their separate ways for the day. “Eat,” Jimin shoves a piece of banana bread into Jeongguk’s hand, but Jeongguk just moves to the counter to make some tea and places the bread next to the kettle.
Jimin and Taehyung place a flurry of kisses on his face before Jeongguk leaves, Namjoon even walks over and pulls him into a hug, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. I love you ’s are exchanged and Jeongguk is out of the apartment for the day.
A text from Taehyung comes in as soon as he steps onto the asphalt.
dizzy today?
Jeongguk stops, debates telling Taehyung things are fine, he’s fine.
a little, yeah. good kind of dizzy though.
Taehyung responds with all of the pink heart emojis and Jeongguk takes that as his cue to put his phone away, mute his conversations, and start his day.
Jeongguk’s second lecture starts at 10 a.m. Which, to Jeongguk is ridiculous because his first lecture was at 7 a.m. and lasted two hours and it’s still too early in the morning for him to be classified as awake . He sits in the back of the lecture room. It’s the only way he could make it through them without having a total meltdown in the mornings, and Jeongguk likes to observe. When he doesn’t feel like taking notes or being an active participant, he takes note of others’ body language instead.
Which is how he finds Yugyeom, a friend he made during orientation, searching the room excitedly as he strolls in undetected and casually late by twenty-five minutes.
“Hey, ‘Guk.” Yugyeom slides into the seat next to Jeongguk’s. “I wanna ask you something.”
Jeongguk’s gaze flicks from a fellow classmate to Yugyeom, the pleasantly warm, fuzzy feeling that remained from the morning disappearing when he sees Yugyeom’s hopeful eyes. “Yeah, okay. Sure, what’s up?”
“A bunch of us are going bowling this weekend. Wanna tag along?” Yugyeom pulls out a notebook and pen because, despite how he carries himself, he does care about his classes and schooling, and is a pretty decent student.
Vertigo chooses that moment to strike, his environment swaying back and forth like he had just been spinning around for too long. The fuzzy feeling is subdued completely and Jeongguk feels like heaving, like something is pulling away at him and he needs to get it out, but there’s nothing there, everything is too dry, too much.
“No thanks,” He strains out, his throat starting to ache at every word he says. “I’m–I’ll just–” He takes a breath, pushes it out slowly. “Next time. Sorry, Yug.”
“No worries, dude. We’ll miss you, though. If you change your mind you know where we’ll be.”
Jeongguk and Yugyeom spend the rest of class in hushed conversation in the back of the room, Yugyeom still able to raise his hand and answer questions while only half paying attention while Jeongguk tries to shrink himself and make himself seem imperceptible.
When they part ways after their lecture, Taehyung is waiting outside the lecture hall.
“There you are! Joon hyung said you had calc today, that piece of shit.” Taehyung swings an arm around Jeongguk, effectively keeping him in a vice-like grip as they walk in the opposite direction of where Jeongguk should be going.
“Be nice to hyung,” Jeongguk grabs Taehyung’s hand when the hall starts to get a little busier, and Taehyung hangs on to Jeongguk as he walks them to a bench outside.
“Okay, so,” Taehyung starts, the laziness of his words bringing out the remnants of his Daegu drawl. “Jimin and I were waiting in the dance room after he had practice, right? We’re sitting on the floor, talking or whatever, and Hoseok hyung—wait you remember Hoseok hyung, don’t you? Anyway, we’re talking and Hoseokie hyung walks into the dance room with this man .”
Jeongguk chuckles in Taehyung’s hold. “A man? That’s it?”
“No. No, no, no, dear Jeonggukkie, you don’t understand. A Man ™. Like with a capital ‘M’ and a trademark symbol at the end Man . This guy, Jeongguk, I swear this guy was carved by the gods themselves. This man has to have fucking impeccable genes; I have never seen a man this attractive in my life.” Taehyung’s arms and hands flail as he talks which causes Jeongguk to crack a smile.
“Are you gonna ask said Man out?” Jeongguk asks.
“What? No, absolutely not. I didn’t say I wanted to date him, I just wanted to share how incredibly attractive he is. Also, I wanted to share how we can see him virtually whenever we want if we properly befriend Hoseok hyung—”
“We?” Jeongguk quips. “As in, you and I, me and you. Us. We?”
“Yes, us. Me and you, you and I. Apparently, Namjoon hyung knows one of Hoseok’s other friends, too, so we’re gonna befriend them, too.” Taehyung rubs gentle circles in Jeongguk’s hands with his own, sensing the rise in anxiety.
“Hyung, I can’t–I’m not,” Jeongguk sighs and, once again, pushes down the dry heave he feels coming up his throat at the mere thought of meeting up with people, nevermind new people.
“C’mon, ‘Guk,” Taehyung says, gentle, not pushing. “We need this, we both need this, you know that. We just– we both need a little push and some more people to talk to. I think you’ll really like Hoseokie hyung, too.”
Jeongguk’s breath is harsh when he leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. Taehyung is right, Jeongguk knows that much, but the spike in his breathing and lack of breakfast mixed with the violent bursts of vertigo he keeps getting hit with make him want to curl into himself, shut himself in his bedroom and not leave for a week.
Jeongguk feels that he’s been too quiet for too long, but he can’t seem to find words to describe what he’s feeling in the moment. “Hy-Hyung,” is all he manages for a moment, and Taehyung seems to notice that he’s struggling, moving from Jeongguk’s side to kneel in front of him.
“Breathe, ‘Guk. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Taehyung soothes, Jeongguk breathes.
“Need water.” Jeongguk all but whispers. “Gonna pass out.” Taehyung scrambles to grab Jeongguk’s water bottle, uncapping it and putting it up to Jeongguk’s lips, tipping it back slightly.
“Okay, no Hoseok-hyung today.” Taehyung says. “Do you wanna go to class or should we go back to your apartment?”
“No, I–” Jeongguk takes another sip from the water bottle. A particularly violent wave of vertigo hits him and he steadies himself with his hands on the bench. “We should go see Hoseok hyung, you’re right.”
“Jeongguk–”
“I’m fine.” Jeongguk pulls himself to his feet, Taehyung quickly following, steadying Jeongguk with two hands on his hips. Taehyung shoots him a look of heavy concern but Jeongguk brushes it off and picks up his backpack. “Let’s go.” Jeongguk smiles.
Taehyung reluctantly offers his arm to Jeongguk and Jeongguk takes it with a content sigh. Taehyung walks them to the Universities' dance studio, a place that Jeongguk is not familiar with despite Jimin being a dance major, and reminds Jeongguk that they can leave anytime, that if he wants to leave to just pinch Taehyung like always. Jeongguk sips his water the whole walk there, effectively staving off the rumbling hunger of his stomach and relaxing his vertigo slightly.
When they walk in, hip hop music is blaring through speakers. The sound of heavy footsteps can be heard before they’re seen. Taehyung smiles brightly when the owners of the heavy footsteps come into view. Namjoon is there, stomping along to an American hip hop song Jeongguk has never heard before with Hoseok by his side, attempting to show Namjoon how to properly do the moves. Two more figures are stood on the side of the room, one laughing at Namjoon.
“Namjoon-ah, you’re a wet noodle!” The man laughing shouts in Namjoon and Hoseok’s direction, earning a laugh from Hoseok and a look from Namjoon. Namjoon does a double-take when he turns, noticing Taehyung and Jeongguk in the doorway.
“Jeonggukie, Taehyung-ah, what are you doing here?” Namjoon shouts over the music, walking over to turn the music off.
“Hey, hyung,” Taehyung says, letting go of Jeongguk and taking a step forward. “We just wanted to stop by and say hi. Also, Hoseok hyung owes me money and I need it to pay for dinner.”
“Please, Jimin would buy you anything if you asked for it.” Hoseok scoffs, handing Taehyung some bills. “Hey, Jeongguk, how’ve you been?” Hoseok points his attention at Jeongguk and slings an arm over his shoulder.
“‘M fine.” Jeongguk squeaks out, his shoulders tensing the longer Hoseok’s attention is on him.
“Oh my god am I adopting a new child today?” The taller man Jeongguk doesn’t know says, giddiness evident in his voice. Taehyung shoots Jeongguk an apologetic smile and steals him away from Hoseok, throwing his arm over Jeongguk and playing with the hair at his nape. Grounding. Jeongguk thinks faintly that he needs to buy Taehyung dinner for putting up with him today.
“Jin hyung, this is Jeongguk. Jeongguk, Seokjin hyung.” Jeongguk sticks out his hand for Seokjin to shake. He takes it happily, and Jeongguk notes the softness of his hands. “Hyung wasn’t joking about the adopting thing; he’s the oldest and likes to take care of all of us.” Taehyung says softly. Jeongguk nods.
“Oh!” Seokjin shouts, startling everyone momentarily. “That’s Yoongi!” He points to a small boy in the corner of the room, huddled into his phone. “Yoongi looks a little standoffish, I know, but once he opens up a bit he’s really sweet, I promise.” Yoongi groans from the corner, mumbling a soft no, I’m not . He stands up and walks over to the group, looking Jeongguk up and down.
“What’s wrong with the kid? He looks like he’s gonna barf if you touch him.” Yoongi says, earning a slap on the arm from Seokjin.
“Really?” Taehyung says, an incredulous eyebrow quirked. “You’re such an ass, honestly.”
“Hey, respect your elders.”
“You’re such an ass, hyung .” Taehyung sticks his tongue out at Yoongi, earning him a hearty glare and a middle finger. Taehyung laughs, pulls Yoongi’s finger to hear him squeal and rubs Jeongguk’s shoulder with the hand wrapped around him.
Jeongguk moves his hand imperceptibly and pinches Taehyung’s thigh hard . Taehyung doesn’t seem phased by it, looking at Jeongguk with a smile and nodding. He bids everyone goodbye, claiming they both have class and homework to do. Jeongguk gives everyone a small smile as they go, squeezing hard on his backpack straps.
“Hyung,” he says, his voice gravelly from disuse. “Hyung, yesterday when I met Namjoon hyung for lunch, a vampire with mint green hair gave me a free coffee.”
“Yoongi gave you free coffee? What the fuck? He never gives me free anything.” Taehyung scoffs. “I promise Yoongi’s really nice, ‘Guk-ah. He puts up a confident front but he’s actually really really shy and reserved.”
“How’d you meet him?” Jeongguk kicks a rock.
“We grew up together. He was my neighbor back in Daegu. His family and mine are still neighbors back at home.” Taehyung smiles. “Hyung used to walk me to school and then pick me up after. He always made sure to include me in things. I used to hang out with him and his friends and they would include me, too. They brought me to the arcade a lot. My parents hated how much Yoongi would spend on me but he always brushed it off and said he just likes seeing me smile.”
“You have a pretty smile, I don’t blame him.” Jeongguk says and smiles at Taehyung. Taehyung shoves him lightly, blushing and pinching Jeongguk’s cheeks. He coos at Jeongguk until Jeongguk threatens to push him in the fountain, and Jeongguk laughs when Taehyung immediately raises his arms in silent surrender.
When they arrive at the main building on campus, Taehyung and Jeongguk have to part ways, as their classes are in two different directions. Taehyung makes him promise to send him a text when he finishes classes for the day and gets home safely, and Jeongguk asks the same of him. They part ways after Jeongguk gets a loud, wet kiss on the cheek from Taehyung paired with an obnoxiously loud, “Bye Jeonggukie, my sweet sweet cinnamon bun!”
꧁꧂
Jeongguk sends Taehyung a text at 6:30 p.m. telling him that his last class of the day is over and he’s home safe. Taehyung had sent Jeongguk a text around 3 p.m. saying the same thing, just like he promised. Jeongguk sighs and unlocks the door to his apartment, his shoulders slumped unbearably low.
His last class of the day was English, and Jeongguk has been struggling with that class since the first day. The professor is extremely unforgiving and puts random people on the spot when she asks questions. She had given them a pop quiz and Jeongguk hasn’t taken a pop quiz since middle school so he was caught completely off guard. Jeongguk had gotten a 10% on the quiz and his grade was read out loud to the entire lecture hall along with a scolding accusing him of not paying attention.
Needless to say, Jeongguk is tired .
Jeongguk is tired and dizzy and sad and a little bit sick because he hasn’t eaten and forgot to take his medicine this morning before he left for class.
He walks into his room and takes his medicine, even though he probably shouldn’t, and lays down on his bed, willing vertigo and nausea to go away. He wants to sleep or cry or scratch at his arms but he can’t do any of those. He can’t cry and put more of a burden on Namjoon, he can’t sleep and risk changing his sleeping schedule or he’ll be stuck in bed and won’t get up for a month, and he can’t scratch at his arms because then Namjoon will have to check his arms and thighs and stomach every morning and night, and that is something Namjoon shouldn’t have to do. Namjoon is his best friend and putting something like that on him is not fair to him.
So Jeongguk sits up in his bed and changes into a pair of boxers and one of Namjoon’s shirts. Something that’s a few sizes too big and hangs off his frame like it does Namjoon’s. He brings himself to walk to the bathroom and peel off the bandages on his arms, not sparing the angry red lines a second glance. He pulls the long sleeves down so they’re covering his arms and goes to the kitchen to refill his water bottle.
“Jeongguk-ah, you’re home. How were your classes?” Namjoon asks, giving Jeongguk a quick back hug before opening the fridge.
“Fine,” He says, refilling the bottle and trying to slip out of the kitchen before any more questions can be asked. He’s stopped by a hand on his chest, Namjoon looking at him with a tilt of his head.
“What happened?” Jeongguk scolds himself for lying. He always forgets that despite Namjoon’s clumsiness and overall spaciness, he can read people–specifically Jeongguk–like a goddamn book.
“I got a bad grade on a pop quiz and the professor read the grade out to the entire lecture hall and then scolded me for not paying attention. It’s fine, no big deal.” Jeongguk slips past Namjoon with a heaviness in his chest, so he changes the subject. “How was your day, hyung?”
Luckily, Namjoon chooses to drop the subject and tells Jeongguk about his day while he grabs a tub of ice cream and a spoon from the freezer and sets up Hulu, pulling up Bob’s Burgers –their latest American cartoon obsession–and puts himself a safe distance from Jeongguk on the couch, just in case Jeongguk needs space.
“They shouldn’t have done that, you know.” Namjoon says three episodes in. “They shouldn’t have read your grade out loud and they had absolutely no reason to scold you in front of everyone like that.” Namjoon says between gritted teeth, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to Jeongguk’s mouth. Jeongguk shakes his head and pushes the spoon back to Namjoon.
Jeongguk hums in response and attempts to focus on the t.v. in front of them.
“Wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” Namjoon asks softly.
“Mhm.” Jeongguk nods, scoots over closer to Namjoon and lays his head on Namjoon’s shoulder. He feels the scritch of fingernails on his scalp and melts into the touch.
Jeongguk excuses himself shortly after to do some homework and write a paper. Namjoon tells him to go to his bedroom whenever he’s done. Jeongguk nods, stands up, and is instantly hit with the biggest wave of nausea he’s felt all day. He doubles over at the pain in his stomach and falls back to the couch when his legs give out.
“‘Guk, you alright?” Namjoon says and it sounds distant in Jeongguk’s ears. He shakes his head slightly to try and get rid of the muffled sound, but it only makes the dizziness worse and bile rise in his throat.
“Bathroom,” Jeongguk breathes raggedly. Namjoon jumps into action, helping Jeongguk to the bathroom. Jeongguk collapses into the toilet, his body attempting to rid itself of something that isn’t there. Jeongguk ends up dry heaving for ten minutes while Namjoon runs his fingers through his hair and rubs circles on his back, encouraging him to breathe and take his time and let it all out.
Nothing comes up, but Jeongguk feels like he’s just thrown up his organs. He gasps and sinks back on his knees, placing his forehead on the edge of the toilet seat despite how gross the idea is to him. He breathes staccato breaths and can’t seem to find it no matter how hard he tries.
“You all set, ‘Guk?” Namjoon asks and Jeongguk nods slightly. Namjoon helps Jeongguk up to his feet and closes the toilet seat, telling him to sit down. Namjoon tells him he’s going to get Jeongguk’s water bottle and Jeongguk just nods, steadies himself on the cover of the toilet.
Jeongguk feels a wave of nausea and dizziness hit him once again and he leans forward and heaves again. His body's attempt to rid itself of something that isn’t there becomes more prominent and quickly has Jeongguk breathing heavily. He can’t find a steady breathing pattern and his surroundings start to blend together. Everything becomes muddy, sound becomes hard to comprehend, breathing becomes harder. It happens so fast Jeongguk’s anxiety spikes and, despite everything else happening, he feels a panic attack hit full force.
Everything goes black.
When Jeongguk comes to, he doesn’t recognize the bed underneath him. It’s his bed he’s laying on, but for some reason, it doesn’t feel like the shitty mattress he’s slept on since he started high school.
Jeongguk feels light. He doesn’t dare try sitting up in fear that he’ll still be nauseous or dizzy or hit by reality. He feels the same way as when he first wakes up in the morning and momentarily hasn’t remembered any of his adult responsibilities or stress or anything . His limbs feel like gelatin, he can’t feel his fingers or toes. He doesn’t even know if he’s covered with a blanket.
The loud bang of the apartment door being slammed open brings Jeongguk out of his stupor, and the relentless pattering of feet outside his bedroom door makes Jeongguk feel restless. He can’t move but his brain and body feel the emotions of everyone walking outside of his door. Jeongguk hears a faint half-screech and sits up in the bed, trying to discern the words being spoken outside.
“What do you mean why ? He dry heaved his lungs out and then passed out! Hoseok and Jin hyung have the most medical knowledge out of literally everyone I know and I freaked out! I don’t–” Jeongguk hears Namjoon sigh. “I don’t know what to do, Tae, I’m a little out of my depth here.”
Jeongguk raises a hand to his head, pressing the heel of his palm into the center of his forehead hard. With the amount of shuffling around going on outside, it doesn’t sound like just Namjoon and Taehyung walking around.
“You should have taken him to the hospital, Namjoon!” Jeongguk hears a voice yell. He doesn’t recognize the voice, can’t figure out who the owner is until they speak again. “You have an IQ of 148 yet you can’t use it for two goddamn seconds –”
“Seokjin hyung, stop ,” Taehyung seethes. “Yelling is going to get you literally nowhere, you know that, you taught me that.”
The yelling continues outside while Jeongguk leans on the frame of the closed doorway and curls into himself, his legs on fire from standing after laying down for so long. Jeongguk tries to pick up on the conversation going on, but the words don’t register in his brain in time and just cause a throbbing in his head while he tries to think.
Jeongguk’s mind goes blissfully blank for a moment and he takes that chance to swing the door open, effectively shutting everyone up. Five pairs of eyes turn to him at the same time, all wide like a deer caught in headlights.
“With all the respect in the world, please shut up .” Jeongguk huffs with a hand on his forehead, successfully sliding past the five pairs of prying eyes and into the kitchen.
He makes his way straight to the fridge, trying to ignore the five people following behind him like five little ducklings. He hasn’t eaten anything today, he remembers while his forehead throbs at the thought, so he opens the fridge and pours himself some apple juice in a plastic cup.
Jeongguk turns around while he sips at his juice, letting the counter support his weight as he stands. His eyes land on the couch, where a mint haired boy sits with an amused smile on his face and his phone in his hand. Jeongguk and Yoongi make eye contact for a minute and Yoongi scoffs, looking like he was dragged here against his will.
“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk says, eyes softening when he turns to look back at Namjoon. “I don’t know what happened but whatever it is, I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” Namjoon says as he takes a rough breath. Jeongguk huffs out a laugh and sips at his drink.
“Jeongguk-ah, you don’t know what happened?” Hoseok speaks up after a long beat of silence, wringing his hands together anxiously.
“No, like, I know what happened, I remember that, I just don’t know what caused it.” Jeongguk says, trying to curb his anxiety.
“Okay,” Hoseok says, looking over at Seokjin. “what do you think, hyung?”
Seokjin tips his head to the side and hums, deep in thought. “What have you eaten today?” He says.
“Banana bread this morning.” Jeongguk lies through his teeth, attempting to keep a neutral expression as he talks.
“Jeonggukie,” Jimin says slowly. “You left the banana bread on the counter this morning. Next to the tea kettle.”
“Oh,” Jeongguk says, feigning surprise. “I honestly thought I ate it.” Jimin cocks an eyebrow at him and watches Jeongguk sip at his apple juice.
The five of them break out into small conversation amongst themselves, talking about what to do with Jeongguk while watching him out of the corner of his eye. Jeongguk’s energy is drained as he pulls the apple juice out again, refilling his cup. The five boys turn around to talk at the small kitchen table, so Jeongguk slides over to the couch.
“Hey,” Jeongguk coughs, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch from the mint haired boy. “you’re the vampire who gave me coffee. Yoongi, I think, right?”
Yoongi nods, pulling his face away from his phone. Another amused smile crosses his face and he pockets his phone. Jeongguk pulls his legs up to his chest. “And you’re the dumb ass kid that can’t take care of themself.”
Jeongguk nods and takes a drink of his apple juice. “That’s me. What are you doing here?”
Yoongi’s eyebrow shoots up. “You’re a little forward today.” Yoongi replies smoothly. “You didn’t say a word at the dance studio.”
“I’m dehydrated, drained, I have no food in my system. Safe to say all of my inhibitions are gone right now.” Jeongguk tips back the last of his apple juice and places the cup on the coffee table. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I was with Hoseok when Namjoonie called. He was crying, you know. I swear he thought you died or something.” Yoongi lets out a small chuckle and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table.
Jeongguk laughs, “I wish I did.”
“You’re a selfish little brat, huh?” Yoongi says, clearly amused with himself and the conversation. He pushes his tongue into the side of his cheek and huffs. “Why the hell would Namjoon choose someone like you?”
“Oh, do you have a crush on Namjoon?” Jeongguk smirks. “Because he’s single and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a thing for grumpy twinks.” Yoongi’s face curls up into something attuned to anger, then smooths back to calm.
“Heard that one before, find something more original.” Yoongi says. “Hey, did you really dry heave for ten minutes? How the fuck did you do that without your organs falling out?” Yoongi asks genuinely, shifting forward in his seat.
“Something fell out. Maybe my sanity. Or my pancreas. I’m not sure.” Jeongguk rolls his head back against the couch, his body finally catching up to his surroundings. The couch starts to feel more real under his fingertips, the feeling of the cushions under his ass starting to come back. He feels a headache start to swell in the back of his head and pressure builds behind his eyes.
“Yoongi, what the hell? What the fuck did you say to him?” Namjoon shouts from behind him, a little too loud for Jeongguk. He puts a hand up and grabs in Namjoon’s general direction, then brings his finger to his lips, shushing everyone.
“We were having a conversation,” Yoongi says innocently, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “He’s being a selfish brat.”
“Min Yoongi!” Seokjin shouts at the same time as Hoseok says, “You really don’t have any empathy, do you?”
“Stop,” Jeongguk says weakly. “We were having a conversation, it’s fine.” Jeongguk sits up in his seat and hunches over, lets the wave of guilt he was expecting hit him like a tsunami.
“You can all go home, I’m sorry about this. I’m fine.” Namjoon’s eyes widen while Jimin and Taehyung share a look of disbelief.
“Jeonggukie,” Jimin says, his voice filled with false kindness. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Jeongguk nods and allows Jimin to pull him back into his bedroom, the smell of a cinnamon candle Namjoon must have been burning making him gag along the way. Jimin notices and snuffs the candle out with his fingers, moves it out of Jeongguk’s room to a table in the hallway. He comes back in and closes the door behind him, turning the lock in place.
“This is not fine, ‘Guk.” Jimin says, schooling his expression as he speaks. “Namjoon says you couldn’t throw up for ten whole minutes and then passed out on the floor. You were borderline unresponsive when he carried you back to bed. This is not fine , ‘Guk.” Jimin moves his hands to his hips and paces around the room, Jeongguk settling cross-legged on the bed.
“I just need to eat, get some calories in me. I had plenty of water today, I slept last night.” Jeongguk whispers, afraid of Jimin’s false calm. “I’m– this–” Jeongguk sighs.
“I don’t know. Can you please just get everyone to leave? I really– I want to be alone right now.” Jeongguk lifts his sleeved hand up to his face and wipes his nose, avoiding Jimin’s eyes. Jimin has stopped pacing, Jeongguk can tell that much from looking down at Jimin’s feet.
“Fuck, ‘Guk.” Jimin sighs, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He unlocks the door and leaves, closing it behind him.
Jeongguk gets up off of the bed to pull the duvet down. He keeps his clothes on and gets into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Jeongguk sighs at the comfort his pillow brings him and rolls over, putting his face in it. He briefly wonders, as his breaths become wet and ragged, how long he would have to keep his face in the pillow to suffocate himself.
Conversation continues outside of his bedroom, five loud voices calling back and forth to each other along with one calm, sarcastic, and sometimes angry one. He hears his name thrown around dozens of times and he thinks vaguely of wandering out there to tell everyone to shut up and go home, but his body is completely against it, he realizes, as sleep pulls him under.