Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There’s an immediate and overwhelming feeling of affliction and agony as soon as Jungkook opens his eyes, the lights in the room positively bothering his irises. It’s too bright, the room too white, and he can immediately tell that he has no idea of where he is, or why he feels so incredibly sore. His entire body feels as though it might have just gotten run over by a truck, or lost a boxing match to an opponent thrice his size.

Not a good day after, most certainly.

He tries to rub his eyes, but is stopped by the unfamiliar weight of his own hand, which he soon discovers to be due to the cast that wraps around his palm, all the way up his wrist and forearm; it’s tight, and uncomfortable. If he was confused before, he’s more than clueless now.

He doesn’t recall doing anything that could’ve possibly granted him a sprained — or is it broken? — wrist. He’s always beyond careful with his hands, they’re his livelihood, he can’t risk hurting them in any way.

There are two different gasps in the room, and only then does he lift his eyes to find his parents and his manager just then realizing, too, that he’s waking up from his long sleep. “You’re finally awake.” his mother rushes to stand by his side, and Jungkook’s taken aback to see tears glistening in her eyes.

His parents live a few hours away, so he’s finding it hard to understand what’s happening, and why they’re there. The fact that his mind seems to be slower than ever doesn’t help, and he feels dumb.

His mouth opens, a thousand different questions on the tip of his tongue, but his manager is faster to speak and positively beats him to it. “I’ll go call the doctor quickly.” Jungkook can only watch as he runs out of the room, his head still spinning with unanswered questions.

A doctor? A cast on his wrist?

What’s going on?

He finally takes the opportunity to look around, and the number of machines around him is beyond alarming. There are a few tubes connected to his arm and, now that he focuses on that, he can feel something glued to his chest — one or two patches that he doesn’t quite know the function of.

All that he can think of, wonder, is what the hell happened.

“Your heartbeat is increasing. Calm down, please.” his mother wakes him before he can go on a spiral of overthinking, but her tears only make it even worse. Her audible panic only makes him worry more.

“You need to relax, son.” it’s his father’s turn to speak as the man holds his healthy hand tightly in his own, while his wife makes sure to comb Jungkook’s hair, and tucking it neatly behind his pierced ear.

“What happened?” he asks, and he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice from how hoarse it is. “Why am I here? Why is my wrist in a damn cast…? What the hell happened to me?” nothing makes sense.

“You got in a car crash…” she whispers. “How do you feel? We were so worried about you— I’m so happy to see your eyes open once again, God, thank you.” his eyebrows furrow, still surprised by how distraught she looks.

“How do you feel?” his father parrots.

“Uhm… I don’t know.” he looks down, trying to adjust his position to check how much his body hurts, and his parents watch his features morph into confusion. “My head hurts, and— I can’t feel my legs, they’re numb. Is this normal? Is it the medication?”

“L-Let’s wait for, uhm, t-the doctor, shall we…” the man stammers, trying his hardest to smile, but it comes off broken, and just plainly weird and unnatural. He’s behaving oddly.

He doesn’t get to say anything else, given that the door opens at the exact same time as his mouth does. Hoseok, his manager, walks in with a doctor, both looking equally tense. His parents look just the same, and it’s way too unsettling; almost scary to witness such atmosphere.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeon.” the doctor greets as he walks closer, only stopping once he’s standing by the bed. Jungkook can’t formulate a greeting back. “I’ll be asking you a few questions, and I need you to answer them without thinking too much about it. Is that alright with you?”

The question is rhetoric, he knows, but he still nods.

“Can you tell me your name?”

What.

“Jeon Jungkook.” he answers, albeit confused.

“What about your birthday, Mr. Jeon? Can you recall the date?” the doctor asks as he takes a hand to his eye, opening his lids to point a small light at his iris that positively blinds him for a few seconds.

“Yeah, it’s September first— Can you just tell me if I’m ok? You’re all worrying me, staring at me like someone fucking died.” he has to ask, starting to seriously feel uneasy. “Someone start talking.”

The doctor clicks the little flashlight to turn it off, storing it back in his coat, which seems to take hours when, in reality, is actually just a matter of seconds. “Mr. Jeon, you got yourself in a terribly tragic accident while driving home. You had to get immediate surgery due to internal bleeds and fractures, along with many more complications. I’ll walk you through all of them once you settle after this news but, for now, we believe that it’s best to tell you that the surgery went well, as well as it could considering—”

“Wait, what? Surgery? I have a match this week, I can’t be at home or here recovering from surgery. It’s the last, it’s the damn final. If I miss it, I’ll lose the championship.” he scowls, angry. “Why the fuck would you operate on me without my consent?! That’s surely illegal, and my lawyers will love to hear about this whole story so that they can—”

“Allow me to interrupt, Mr. Jeon, but it was a matter of life or death. In situations like such, where we can’t possibly wake the patient up and ask for consent, we get their next-of-kin to decide for them. In this case, it was your parents. They made the decision to go ahead and operate.”

Jungkook looks at his parents, and they can see the betrayal behind his eyes. “Why would you say yes to a stupid surgery? I’m leading the board, and I can’t miss the damn final. Why would you do this…?”

“Your life matters more to us… It wasn’t even in question.”

The athlete sighs, faces his doctor. “How quickly can I recover from this? I’ll have to manage to attend the fight nonetheless, I don’t care if it makes me internally bleed again, I’ll deal with that after winning. The fight is really fucking important. Give me dates, and they better match the fight.”

“I’m afraid that such thing won’t be possible.” the doctor says.

“Why?” the silence is heavy, deeply uncomfortable, and he just looks between all of them, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come as quickly as it should. “Why?!” he repeats, this time a little louder.

His mother snivels. “Son, it’s c-complicated…”

He’s seeing red now. “Can you just tell me already?!”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

SEOUL, KOREA — 26 HOURS PRIOR

Jungkook throws his sports bag over his shoulder, thoroughly enjoying the straining and sore feeling on his arms; that’s the result of a good workout and it’s always a good sign. No matter how sore he may get, that slight pain will always be a positive thing in his books.

He climbs the stairs back to the main floor, his hair still wet from the shower that he took mere minutes ago, and now he just needs a good meal and a good night of sleep so that he feels refreshed enough to repeat the same thing tomorrow: work out from dawn to dusk, push until he has no energy left, and his limbs feel shaky with each step that he takes.

The workers at the front desk are overly familiar with him already, so they perk up when they see him approach. One of them makes sure to start singing the tune that always plays when he’s entering the ring for a match, and it makes him cackle.

“Was it a good workout?” another girl asks.

“It always is.” Jungkook says, confident, an eyebrow raised. “I’ll be back tomorrow around the same time. I can’t slack in this next week. I need to work out every day to exhaustion.” he shares, fixing the strap of his bag.

They all hum in unison. “You always exhaust yourself before your matches. I don’t know how you manage to have energy when the actual matches come.” one of the guys comments with an impressed look in his eyes. “I’m sure that you’re going to nail your fight next week, too, and I’m so excited to watch it…! It’ll be amazing.”

“Oh, yes.” another nods, enthusiastic. “You’ve made it to the final, and you’ll take the title again after you win next week… How do you feel?”

“Like I need to find the space to store another belt.” he smirks.

“Hm, maybe being cocky helps him win.” the young woman comments, and they all share a quick laugh. “I’d just like to remind you that you promised to bring one of your belts one day for us to see… and it’s been two years since you’ve said so.”

“I don’t recall.” Jungkook shrugs, grabbing his bottle of water to take a good sip from it. “I’ll think about it. I have to get going now, I need to have dinner and rest for tomorrow. Have a good night, you all.” he weakly waves at them. His arms feel like jelly, his legs tingly.

“You, too.” they say in unison.

Jungkook has barely stepped outside of the gym when he hears his phone ring in his pocket, and the ringtone gives the caller away — his manager. He knows exactly why his manager is calling, and he considers ignoring it and letting it go to voicemail, but then he’d have to pass on the opportunity to annoy the man, and he likes doing it a little too much.

So, he picks up. “Hello.” he greets.

“Jeon Jungkook.” Hoseok starts, and he can tell by his tone that he’s upset, or maybe even angry at him. “Care to tell me why there are videos circulating of you punching a paparazzi earlier today?”

“I’m good, thanks for asking. My day was great, what about yours?”

“Jungkook.” his manager reprehends.

The athlete clicks his tongue, pressing the button to open the trunk of his car that then opens by itself. “It wasn’t even my fault. He got in my face.”

Hoseok sighs, already tired of having the same conversation; it’s not the first, or second, or fifth, or tenth time that Jungkook makes the news for either punching or threatening to punch a paparazzi. “Then I’ll get in your face next time that I see you. Will you punch me square in the nose, too?”

Jungkook smiles. “Would you like me to?”

“You seriously age me.” the younger man snorts, throwing his sports bag into the trunk before clicking the same button for the trunk to close on its own, too. “You know how annoying the paparazzi always are, and I agree that most of them deserve a good punch in the face, but you can’t go around just punching all of them whenever you see fit.”

“I can, actually.” he teases. “You know how the press loves a good story about how the rude and sexy Jeon Jungkook—”

“The ‘sexy’ part was absolutely not needed.”

“Hm, let’s agree to disagree.” his manager sighs again, and it makes his smile widen. “C’mon, it was just a little punch, I’m sure that he’s fine, and he won’t bother me again, so I’d say that it was deserved and a successful way to get rid of him. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Your punches are not little, Jungkook. You most definitely broke the guy’s nose with that. I watched the video, he fell to the floor.” Hoseok further stresses. “I need to look more into it, see if we can avoid having him sue you for physical assault… That would be a pain to deal with.”

“I can pay it; I don’t care if he sues.”

“Again, you age me.” he reinforces. “Where are you?”

“I’m just now leaving the gym. I’m going home… I’ll eat something, and head straight to bed. I promise not to cause you any more distress, at least today.” the athlete teases, getting into his car, and positively ignoring the flashes going off around him, so not to do the exact opposite of what he’s promising right then and there. “I have to go, I’m in my car.”

“Fine, but you’re getting scolded tomorrow.” Hoseok warns, but Jungkook knows that he won’t do it; he never does. “Drive safely, ok? It’s been raining the whole day, so the streets are still very wet. Be careful out there, don’t drive like a madman just because you’re tired and want to sleep.”

“I may be reckless, but not when it comes to driving.”

“I know, I’m just saying.” his friend quickly agrees. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Sleep well, and eat well. You need to eat and rest properly until your match next week, we can’t have you feeling weak.”

“I know.” Jungkook nods, starting the car. “Sleep well.”

“Hm, will do.” he presses the button to end the call, clicking his seatbelt so that he can drive off; he can almost hear his bed calling after him, and he can’t wait to get home and rest his exhausted body.

But first, of course, he’ll enjoy the meal already waiting for him.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“Can you just tell me already?!” he demands.

The doctor takes a step closer with his hands brought together at his front. “Mr. Jeon, since you’re obviously very well-known, and getting the absolute best treatment and care that we have available at this hospital, I suggest having one of our counselors present when we deliver the news to you. Just so that you can have, again, the best care.”

“Can you all just stop beating around the fucking bush? Just tell me whether I’m ok for my match or not, and tell me, why the fuck do my legs feel numb? Is this a side effect or what? If yes, then stop whatever medication that you have me on, because this feels weird and uncomfortable. I can’t even feel my damn feet. Start talking. Now.”

“Mr. Jeon… There’s no easy way to say this but, apart from the internal bleeding and a fractured finger, you’ve also had some damage to the cells and nerves in your spinal cord just below your first lumbar vertebrae.”

Jungkook gapes. “Uhm, okay, is that… bad…?”

“We’re looking at a case of total paralysis of your lower limbs. Meaning, total loss of movement and sensation of your legs, feet, and of your toes.” the doctor explains, and the young athlete feels an enormous wave of whiplash hit him all at once. He looks over at his parents when his mother sobs into his father’s arms, both holding each other close as though it’s the first time that they’re hearing about it.

“You’re… lying. You have to be. This isn’t a funny joke.”

“Can you move anything, Kook?” Hoseok asks, voice wrapped in sadness and sympathy, almost scared to ask him such a thing. Hoseok would never lie to him. And that’s the scariest part. It might all be true.

He’s too scared to try.

“Try to move your legs, son.” his father encourages, and he gulps, looking down at himself. He tries to move his legs, part them a little bit, but it’s like there’s nothing for him to control, like he’s forgotten how to even utilize his muscles, everything too heavy for him to even try.

His face closes off in a scowl, eyes watering once he realizes that it’s not a joke, it’s not a stupidly cruel joke; he can’t control his legs, can’t even drag them apart a few inches, and it makes a weird, striking pain shoot up his spine when he tries his hardest.

Still, he doesn’t stop.

He’s a fighter, he doesn’t give up over some pain.

Instead of his legs, he tries to focus all of his attention on something easier, something lighter and smaller: his toes. Jungkook tries to wiggle them, even if just a little bit, but, just like his legs, it’s as if they’re not even there.

There’s an overwhelming wave of anger that washes over him, and he grips the sides of the bed so hard that his knuckles turn white, an expression of pure rage and horror darkening his features. He’s never felt this scared, helpless, and desperate. All of it just to move one finger. One toe, is all.

He doesn’t even hear the way that the heart monitor spikes, though it gets everyone’s attention. “Mr. Jeon, please, try to relax. Your heart is—”

“How can I relax?!” his voice breaks, eyes still boring holes into the sheets as he glares at his own feet in hopes that he’ll detect any movement, but there’s nothing. “You just told me that my career— that my life is over, how can I fucking relax right now? How?!” he yells.

His mother weeps, turning her back to him, unable to take it any longer. Jungkook looks terrified, livid, and it hurts too much seeing that.

“There are… possible solutions, Kook. Please, hear the doctor out first, before getting angry.” his manager grabs his attention, trying to be the rational one amidst the panic. “Let’s hear it, doc.”

“We were lucky that the injury wasn’t any higher on your spine, otherwise the situation would be undeniably worse… I’m going to give you a moment with your family to process the information, which I know was and will be very hard to accept. I’ll return shortly with colleagues that will be more than happy to inform you of everything that we can and must do from this point on. You’re in good hands, Mr. Jeon. We’ll take very good care of you.” his doctor gives him a tight smile before bowing, and leaving the room with the heaviness of his words weighing down the atmosphere.

Jungkook can’t look away from the sheets, his legs.

His parents are speaking; he can hear the faint sound of their voices, but he can’t process any of the words, too focused on trying to move his toe. Just one, just a little. To no avail. Not even a twitch.

He looks up when a gentle hand tips his head up by the chin to wipe away his fallen tears. “You’re going to be ok, Jungkookie. The doctor—”

“My life is over, mom.” he rasps out. “I won’t be ok ever again.”

“Please, Kook, hear the doctors out when they return, before you feel this helpless. I know that it must be terrifying, but no one is going to give up on you and, if it’s possible and at our reach, we will make sure that you’ll recover from this injury. Your life is not over… don’t say or think that.”

“Your doctors will come back here soon and walk you through everything.” his father adds, holding his hand tightly between his two palms.

“Honey… Your words…” the woman scolds in a soft whisper, but Jungkook can hear it perfectly, and it makes the first sob escape his lips unintended. After that one, many more follow suit. He doesn’t cry in front of people, he’d never, but he can’t hold it in. Not now, not like this.

Not when his chest feels tight with panic, anger, and a confusing mixture of emotions that he can’t even think of trying to identify. His life is over, he knows that much, and he’s never felt this helpless.

His legs don’t obey him, and there’s no solution to just simply undo what happened to him, so it angers him that they even want to listen to the stupid doctors — they’re just going to lie to their faces. They’ll lie to appeal to him, just because he’s a celebrity and has the money to pay for whatever excuse of a treatment that they’ll suggest.

“Kook, your heart—”

“Leave me alone.” he tries to scream, tell them all to leave, but it comes out in a whisper once again. Weak, and broken, and it’s a reflection of how he feels. No one knows what to say, so the silence takes over.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

NOTIFICATIONS

Smol: Are you ok? The news and the articles, they’re all fake, right? I can’t get in contact with anyone, please call me ASAP.

Smol: Why are they saying that you died, I’m panicking. Hoseok doesn’t pick up, Yug doesn’t know anything… call me when you see this.

Kim (Sore Loser) Yugyeom: WTF am I seeing all over the freaking internet and tv? You were in a car crash?! Are you alright?!

Kim (Sore Loser) Yugyeom: Call us immediately

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

iMESSAGE

|  Smol
|  Jungkook, you’re worrying us so much
|  Can you just let us know if you’re ok?
|  I saw you just now tweeting, telling some news outlet to fuck off after they rumored your death, so at least I know that you’re not dead, but c’mon
|  Did you get in a car crash, or is that bullshit, too?

|  Kim (Sore Loser) Yugyeom
|  I’ve tried to call Hoseok again and again and he keeps declining
|  His mom is ignoring me as well. Do you have his dad’s number?

Me  |
No need  |
I did get in a crash, I’m at the hospital  |

|  Smol
|  Are you ok?!
|  We’re on our way. Really, ten minutes and we’re there.

Me  |
Don’t come, I don’t want to see anyone  |

|  Kim (Sore Loser) Yugyeom
|  What??? Why???

|  Smol
|  Jungkook????? Come back

 ⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook keeps his eyes closed, fisting the white sheets as tightly as his sore, weakened body allows him to, and he tries his absolute best to tune out the sounds of his mother’s silent sobs, his father’s attempts at reassuring her, and the continuous tapping sound of Hoseok’s nervous foot.

He just wants silence, he wants all of them to leave now.

He just wants to go back to sleep, ignore his reality altogether and, if lucky, simply be gone in his sleep. He doesn’t even know at whom he should be angry. If at himself for getting into an accident, or his parents, for allowing such a surgery that might’ve been the cause of his paralysis, for all he knows.

There’s a knock on the door, and they look up to find his doctor with another man, dressed in nurse’s clothing, but he doesn’t seem to be a nurse.

“Would you all mind giving us some privacy to have a conversation, please?” the doctor asks, and his parents and manager are quick on their feet to leave the room so that they can talk to Jungkook alone. “Thank you.”

The silence is uncomfortable as they wait for the door to close, and Jungkook just looks between the two of them, unsure of what to expect, but too tired to yell at them to leave him alone, too.

His body is on the verge of giving in to exhaustion, and the medicine being injected directly into his veins only makes him feel more tired, if physically possible. He wants to sleep… and never wake up.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeon.” the man starts, walking even closer to the bed. “My name is Park Seojoon, and I’m the head of the physiotherapy team at this hospital. I have reviewed your case for the past few hours, and I’m here to explain how we can react in order to help you—”

“Help me?” Jungkook interrupts with a broken, humorless chuckle. “I can’t move a fucking toe, and you’re offering to help me? I’m not going to buy your bullshit. You’re going to offer me expensive fucking treatments and feed me hope, just because you know that my team and I would pay every fucking dime. Well, guess what, I’m not going to believe in whatever story that you’re planning on coming up with here.”

“We do understand your defensiveness, most patients react like this at first.” the doctor assures and, for some reason that he doesn’t quite understand, it only angers him even more. He doesn’t want sympathy.

Seojoon, as he now knows, clears his throat to go on. “You see, one of my favorite things about the human body is its ability to heal itself, to regenerate, to learn and—”

“Oh, so paralysis fucking heals itself?” he scoffs.

“Please, allow me to finish explaining, Mr. Jeon, and then you’ll decide whether what I’m saying is a bunch of crap or not.” Jungkook just presses his lips together in a thin line, nodding for him to go on. “As I was saying, there are many factors that play a role in regaining your mobility after an injury to your spinal cord, but it is possible. I’ve seen many, many people recover at the hands of my team, and you will be the next.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, breathes in. “How in the world can someone just recover from freaking paralysis?” he asks through gritted teeth; they can tell that he’s angry — it’s evident in his eyes and posture.

“Our spines have the ability to… reorganize themselves and adapt to the situations. The thing is, you need to put in the work. Some people require a lot of work, some less. Unfortunately, not everyone can regain their full mobility, and some can’t even regain part of it, but I did review all of your exams, and I’m confident when I say that good results are to be expected from your case.” the man smiles, polite. “We will give you time to discuss this with your family and manager, and consider everything, but we highly suggest that you start your physical therapy sessions as soon as possible, given that your case is still complicated.” he recommends, sincere.

“What does ‘complicated’ mean?”

“Well, it just means that you’re one of the cases that will, most likely, require… a lot of work. Both from your part, and from our team.” Jungkook takes a moment, before he scoffs again, a second away from ordering them to get out of his room, and fast.

“But we must stay positive.” the doctor adds.

“Not even you believe that.” Jungkook mumbles. “I’m never fucking walking again, am I? I’m never—” he stops. “Am I going to be stuck to a wheelchair and a bed for the rest of my life? That’s it, right? There’s no positivity strong enough to repair what happened. Am I right? I am, I know.”

“Mr. Jeon, we can only hope that it’ll all be—”

“Get out, now.” he looks away. “I don’t want to hear this any longer, and I want to sleep. I’m exhausted. Go.” his doctors share a look, unsure of what to do, but his social status grants him special and finer treatment, so they bow, and step away from the bed.

“We’ll share all of this with your parents. I’m sure that you’ll want to discuss everything with them once you wake up again.” Seojoon informs and, next thing that he hears, is the door opening, soon to be closed.

He doesn’t want to discuss anything with anyone, he doesn’t want to be fed false hopes and fake promises of something that can’t happen, to fix a problem that can’t go away. It’s cruel to even try to get him to believe in all of it, it’s evil to say all of those things that simply aren’t true.

There’s no feeling, no movement, from his waist down, so how can they try to make him believe that he will walk again if he tries to? That’s evil, and wrong. He just wants to fall asleep, and forget everything.

Even if just for a few hours.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook tries to stay away from social media for as long as possible, but there’s an itch in him that needs to vent somewhere, to just let it all out, and his private account in of the two social medias that he uses sounds perfect.

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I just blocked everyone so that no one can see me vent in his private account and, to be honest, I don’t even know why I’m so embarrassed to tell them about what happened to me. They wouldn’t understand.
|  I keep trying to move my freaking toes and nothing happens. To make it all even worse, it hurts. How can they look me in the eye and tell me that having someone stretch my legs once a day will do anything? Bunch of money-hungry cunts.
|  The worst part is that I can tell that my parents fully believe their fucking speech. I just want to punch every single one of those doctors. I can’t feel a thing and they really believe that I’d believe this shit. My life is over. They should’ve just let me die.

Jungkook throws his phone away to the small table by his side, closing his eyes to avoid meeting his parents’. They both look up at him, still, when they hear the object being thrown, and they can’t help but worry even more.

“Are you okay?” his mother asks.

“Yes.” he lies.

“You should rest…” she suggests, reaching for his hand, but he pulls away from her grasp, holding his own over his stomach. Having his eyes closed, he doesn’t see the way that her face falls. “Sleep well, Kook.”

He just hopes that he won’t wake up from it.

Chapter Text

When the third alarm this morning rings in his bedroom, Taehyung mumbles a few curse words as he knows that he can’t send it to snooze again, as much as he’d like to. If he hits that button, they’ll be late.

He gets up from the bed with only one eye open, and body filled with regret from having decided to stay up so late watching movies, when he should’ve gone to sleep way earlier than he did. It can never happen again on a work day. His limbs are almost unresponsive as he drags himself out of his bedroom and into the hall, headed to the other room. He knocks twice, just in case, and only opens the door when there’s no answer — he’d never barge in.

There’s a lump in the middle of the bed, and it makes him smile right away. “Hey, little one.” he walks up to the window to open the blinds. There’s a faint whine, followed by the rustling sound of the sheets moving and, when he turns, he laughs at the boy’s futile attempt to disappear under the sheets. “I wonder where he could’ve gone…” he jokes, looking around the room.

He hears a giggle; the kind that can make any exhausting day seem brighter in a second — the kind that makes his heart smile, and he loves it.

“C’mon, get up, kiddo. We’ve already slept in, we should be having breakfast by now.” Taehyung has to say, despite wanting nothing but to lay down with the young boy, and spend the rest of the day under the warm sheets.

“But, dad…!” Jiwoon whines once again, his words a little muffled by the layers that he’s covered himself with. Taehyung rolls his eyes with a smile, walking up to the bed to pry the sheets away. “I want us to stay home the whole day today.” he pouts; his secret weapon.

“I’d love that.” Taehyung nods. “But I have to work, and you have school to attend. I gave you twenty extra minutes in bed, but that’s it. I’ll go get started on breakfast, and you can start putting your uniform on, mister.”

“I have forgotten how to get dressed…”

“Then I’ll forget how to add extra chocolate syrup to your waffles.” he threatens and, even if it’s an empty threat, it works; he can hear the sheets being kicked off, which makes him chuckle. He knows his ways with his son.

He swiftly makes his way to the kitchen, followed closely by his little fur ball, Yeontan walking right on his heels to get some breakfast, too.

As much as Taehyung enjoys cooking for them both and for friends, he’d rather not eat at al rather than actually spending time on breakfast, so he’s not that proud to admit that he grabs two frozen waffles, and simply puts them in the toaster. Secondly, he fills up his dog’s bowl with the right portion of food, spending almost a full minute petting him before realizing that he doesn’t have much time to spare.

His scrubs for the day were already picked the night before, a dark shade of blue today; he quickly puts them on, and makes sure to apply a good amount of deodorant and cologne — smelling good is a must, even at the hospital.

He can hear his son pacing around and singing in his bedroom, so he hopes that the young boy is getting dressed, otherwise he’ll miss his bus, and Taehyung will have to drive him to school instead, which will make him late.

Styling his hair is a faster process today than what he’d like it to be, so it’s not as neat as it usually is, but he’s satisfied enough with the results. “You better be ready…!” Taehyung says, loud enough to be heard in the other bedroom, just finishing up applying some mascara to enhance his eyes and, hopefully, take the attention from his eye bags.

He really has to stop watching movies when he has work to attend the following day. It always ends up with him barely getting through it without multiple coffees during every break that he has, and between each patient.

“I’m ready!” his son yells back, and he hears footsteps approaching. “Did I do it right, dad?” he asks, pointing at his shoes as he lifts up his foot.

“Let me see…” Taehyung bends down, inspecting the shoelaces. “That’s perfect, you did them perfectly. I told you, it seems hard, but it’s easy.”

“Thank you, dad.” Jiwoon smiles, one of his teeth missing. “I can’t say the same about your waffles… I can smell smoke.” he points.

Taehyung gasps, running past him into the kitchen, and he lets out a string of curse words when he indeed sees smoke coming out of the toaster. “I forgot to set up the timer.” he shares, trying to get the waffles out of the toaster with his bare hands, which does generate another string of curse words given that he burns each and every fingertip. “These are not edible, I fear.”

Jiwoon giggles. “I’ll take cornflakes.” the young boy informs, and Taehyung can recognize the joking tone in his voice; he’s already rather used to being made fun of by his kid, so it’s easy to know when he’s being teased.

“I’ll give you some money to buy something more at school.” Taehyung says as he hurriedly grabs a bowl to fill up with milk, and places the cereal box on the kitchen island alongside it. “It has to be something healthy, though.”

“Pizza slices are healthy, right?” that grants him a firm look of disapproval. “I’m joking…!” he drags, filling up his bowl with cereal.

“Just eat up, you can’t miss your bus.” Taehyung urges, looking down at the watch on his wrist. “You have precisely ten minutes to eat that, brush your teeth, and be downstairs to catch the school bus.” he informs.

“I’ll eat really fast.” Jiwoon promises, quickly diving into his breakfast. Taehyung rests his hands on the counter, watching him with a fond smile. He’s been gifted with this same scenario for eight years already, but it always makes him stop to properly appreciate it. Appreciate the small version of himself.

His mornings might be a bit chaotic, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves and cherishes the life that he’s built for himself and Jiwoon.

“Done!” the boy says, proud of how fast he was, pushing the bowl away.

“Wow, that was indeed fast.”

Jiwoon jumps down from the stool. “I’ll go brush my teeth now.”

“Don’t take too long!” Taehyung calls after him, only to hear a faint ‘okay’. He chuckles, putting the bowl in the dishwasher for him to deal with later. As for himself, he’ll eat something at work.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung’s panting by the time that he reaches the break room, taking a big sip from his coffee. “Hey.” he greets, approaching the round table where his friends are all sat around. “Jiwoon spilled toothpaste all over his shirt, so he missed the bus. I had to drive him to school, and it was a rush to get here.”

“We assumed that something of the sort had happened.” Namjoon comments, sliding a plate with slices of toasted bread across the table, offering.

“Thanks.” Taehyung sits down, accepting one right away. “I was worried that I’d be late again, I was fucking flying to get here on time. I probably got myself one or two speeding tickets just for that…”

Seokjin eyes his phone. “You’re ten minutes early, so you’re good. We don’t start our sessions before eight, don’t worry about it.”

“Why doesn’t Miyun drive him to school?”

“She clocks in at work earlier than I do.” Taehyung sighs. “Besides, if we do everything on time, he just takes the school bus. There’s no need for her to go through the hassle of driving to my place, only to drive to his school, and then drive to work. It would make her late, and there’s no use.”

“You’re right.” Namjoon nods. “I have to invite myself over to yours for dinner sometime soon. I haven’t seen that little brat in a while.” he smiles.

“Hm, count me in, too.” Seokjin reminds.

“You guys can come over any time.” Taehyung shrugs, taking another sip. “He lost his last baby tooth yesterday, so be ready to probably having to see it. He’s still keeping all of them in that box… even if I’ve already told him that the tooth fairy won’t leave him a bigger gift if he offers all of them at the same time, as a normal kid does.”

“You’re raising a man of business.”

“I’m raising a menace, that’s what I’m doing. He knows that I’m the tooth fairy, he just wants me to finally buy him that boxing game that he wants… but I won’t get it. I’ve already made it pretty clear with him.”

“Why not?” Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “One thing that I know about kids is that they’ll shut up if you just give them what they want.”

Namjoon cringes. “Please, don’t ever be a dad.”

Taehyung chuckles. “I’m not buying him the game. While that works, yes, and he’d finally be quiet about it, I don’t want him playing that game. I searched about it, and it’s too violent. I don’t want him to start, I don’t know, punching kids at school just because he likes doing it in a video game. I’ve read what parents say online… and I’m not taking chances.”

“Oh, yeah, I get it. Don’t buy it, it’ll make it easier for me to decide what to get him for his birthday.” Taehyung stops mid-chew, throwing the small piece of bread left in his hand. Seokjin snorts, chucking it back. “I’m kidding, I wouldn’t go against you. I’d never buy him the game.”

“He’s a good kid, though, he wouldn’t just copy a game…”

“I don’t know, Joon, I don’t want to risk it.” Taehyung shrugs.

“Oh, shit.” another coworker says, from a different table, getting the attention of everyone in the room. “Do you know that famous guy? Jeon Jungkook, the famous boxer.” he starts, reading something on his phone.

“Hm, yeah, my son likes him a lot.” Taehyung nods.

“What about him?” Namjoon asks, curious.

“He got into a car crash, and got admitted to this very hospital.” Bogum shares, still reading the article. “This doesn’t say much, but I wonder if he’s doing ok… The picture of the crash looks really bad.” he turns the phone to them, and they all hiss at the disastrous picture. “He’s probably not that great.”

“No wonder I saw so much security when I got here. I knew that we had to have another celebrity, I just didn’t think that it’d be a big celebrity. Most of the time we get internet stars, and influencers, which is… disappointing, to say the least.” Namjoon comments, a little guiltily. “I’m surprised that there weren’t any paparazzi at the entrance. They wouldn’t miss a chance like this one.”

“They’re probably kicking all of them out for safety purposes.”

“And privacy.”

“Isn’t he a douche?” Taehyung asks, not nearly as interested in the conversation topic as all of his colleagues seem to be. “I’d swear that he’s known for being rude and a douche. Didn’t he punch someone just, like, yesterday? I believe that I saw an article about it while I was scrolling on my phone. I even scoffed at it. I’m almost sure of this.”

“Well… He’s really hot, so he gets a pass.”

“Yeah, agreed.”

Taehyung hums. “If you say so.”

They all look up at the door when it opens in a hurry, another coworker coming in with a pant. “Did you guys know that Jeon Jungkook is here? I just walked past his room, and I’ve never seen so much security in my life, it’s insane. So many bodyguards watching his room.”

“Is he that entitled? Not even the president would bring that much security to the inside of the hospital.” Taehyung has to say as he steals another piece of toasted bread. “That’s a little too much of him.”

“Don’t badmouth Jeon, he’s a damn national treasure.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “For beating people.”

“Details.” they say in unison. “I saw our boss walking into his room, by the way, so he’s probably not in the best shape if he’s going to need physiotherapy. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to butt in. We’ll probably know something soon.” Minjae adds.

“He’s a celebrity, they’d offer him physiotherapy if his fucking pinkies felt weird just to please him.” Taehyung shrugs, which grants him a glare from every coworker in the room. “What? It’s true, he’s probably doing just fine.”

“His pinkies can’t feel weird, he needs his hands.”

“To beat pe—”

Seokjin gasps, interrupting him. “Holy shit! That means that one of us will get to work with him, then!” he realizes. “You all better get out of my sigh whenever Seojoon asks us who’s interested, I want an autograph and a picture… and the money. Oh, I can just imagine the money.”

“Oh, be my guest. I hate rude people, I wouldn’t have the patience for him. I’m not risking getting punched in the face after telling him to go fuck himself.” the laughter that follows confuses him, but he doesn’t even try to understand it; he’s comfortable in his ignorance with this particular topic.

“How you have the highest patient satisfaction rate out of us?”

“Yeah, you’re mean.” Minjae jokes.

“It’s my customer service smile.” he runs a hand over his face, now holding a bright smile that doesn’t even look forced despite being fake. “I’m also a good person with my patients, I want them all to get better, even the rude ones. I just can’t stand disrespect.”

“Higher chances for us!”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Hey, are you at work? Things got a little complicated here…  |
My last session got delayed for an hour, so I’ll be getting off late  |
Can you pick Jiwoon up from school today instead of tomorrow?  |
That would be great  |

|  Miyun
|  Oh, I’m sorry, I accepted the afternoon shift today since I wasn’t meant to pick him up… I can ask to leave, if you’d like.

Me  |
No, it’s ok  |
I’ll ask Yoongi to pick him up  |
You need to come over after work, though  |
He lost his last baby tooth and he wants to show you…  |

|  Miyun
|  No…!!!! Our baby isn’t a baby anymore

Taehyung sighs to himself, trying not to get too affected by the last message that he’s just received, because he doesn’t even want to think about how she’s so right — their baby isn’t that much of a baby anymore.

Me  |
You know that you’re my favorite friend, right?  |
Out of everyone that I’ve ever met through life!  |
No presence has ever compared to yours.  |
To your preciousness, to your kindness  |
I am forever grateful t that you gift me with your presence ♡  |

|  Bestie
|  The fuck do you want from me??

His best friend’s answer makes him laugh, but he quickly types his true intention, which is to request his help. Yoongi answers right away, assuring him that he’ll pick Jiwoon up from school as soon as he gets off from work, and it relaxes him. He knows that he can always count on Yoongi to be there.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung finally hits send on the report on his last patient of the day, one that he very irresponsibly wrote down while driving — using the speech-to-text function instead of his fingers, but still. His attention should’ve been on the road. His patient had surgery on his knee no longer than two weeks ago, and still refuses to properly do the exercises and stretches to ensure that he completely regains his mobility and isn’t left with a permanent limp. He has tried countless times to make it happen, but it’s hard to convince the elderly.

He makes sure to include all of that in the report, but with kinder and more professional wording, and stores his phone in his pocket so that he can forget about work for the day. He’s exhausted both physically and mentally.

The group chat that he’s in with colleagues has been ringing non-stop, everyone either sharing rumors that they’ve heard in the halls, or assumptions that they’ve made themselves, and Taehyung couldn’t care less.

He stands in front of the house, and rings the doorbell. The door opens soon after, his best friend standing on the other side with a bag of chips. “Hey.”

“Hey, come on in.” Yoongi steps aside, holding the door for him. “We’re getting the cookies out of the oven right now, you’ll have to stay for a bit…”

“As if that’s a problem.” Taehyung smiles as he walks into the house, humming in satisfaction at the smell of freshly baked cookies in the air. “I had a long-ass day at work, the cookies will taste even better… You guys are saints.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, but I had to carry a lot of patients. Usually, I have a good balance but, today, all of them had something to do with their lower limbs, so I had to carry and support them most of the time.” he sighs, bending backwards to crack his back deliciously. “I’m seriously beat.”

“I’ll make you coffee.” Yoongi cocks his head, leading the way to the kitchen where Taehyung’s son is patiently waiting for help. “Hey, kid.” he calls.

Jiwoon looks up from the oven mitts that he’s successfully put on, and a smile stretches on his lips as he sees his father walking into the room. He quickly jumps down from the kitchen stool, running over to Taehyung who, despite feeling exhausted, still picks him up and spins him once.

“You’re getting too big to be picked up.” Yoongi teases, putting the oven gloves on to help the young boy. “You’re not a little kid anymore.”

“Yes, I am.” Jiwoon pouts, hugging his father’s neck tighter.

“Yoongi is right, though.” Taehyung kisses his cheek before butting him back down on his feet. “You’re too heavy now.” he sits down, watching his best friend do his best to get both trays of cookies out of the oven without burning himself. “How was school, hm?”

“The same as always…” the boy shrugs, his attention on the cookies.

“Tae, my friend, I read an article today, and I wanted to ask you whether it’s true or not.” Yoongi starts, setting the trays on the counter with a clear indication for Jiwoon not to touch them. Taehyung rubs his eyes, already knowing what it is about. “Is it true that you have Jungkook in your hospital?”

“I’ve already gotten over fifteen texts about this.” he complains. “It’s true, he is there, but I don’t know what happened. My boss is dealing with him, so he’s in need of physical therapy, but I have no idea of how he’s doing, or why he needs it. Why does everyone care? He’s just another cocky celebrity.”

“Duh, we care because he’s the most famous and successful athlete that we have. We should be proud of it as Koreans.” his best friend states the obvious as he starts preparing the promised coffee. “I hope that he’s doing ok.”

“Wait, Kookie?” Taehyung can feel his eye twitch at the nickname. Out of everyone in the world, movie stars, singers, his son just had to idolize someone that fights for a living. “Is he ok?! Why is he in the hospital?”

“Yes, kiddo, otherwise we’d already know.” Yoongi assures. “Besides, he’s a really tough guy, you can’t just think that he’d be taken down so easily.”

“Dad, you should give him cookies tomorrow… Since he’s at your hospital.” Jiwoon smiles, gesturing towards the baked goods. “I can even write and draw him a card wishing for him to get all better soon!”

“I can’t, for many reasons. One, I can’t get past his security. Two, celebrities trash the food that they receive because it might be poisoned. Three, and the most important one, I don’t want to.” he shrugs. “Take some cookies home, though, because your mom is visiting. She wants to see you.”

Jiwoon gasps. “I have to show her my tooth!”

Taehyung smiles. “She’ll be thrilled to see it.”

“Patient collects teeth for fun… We’re dealing with a beginner case of psychopathy, at best.” Yoongi jokes, handing over the mug. Taehyung takes a sip right away, and he can almost hear his body thanking him for the caffeine.

“Good thing that his uncle Yoongi is a psychiatrist.”

“Oh, there’s no salvation for this one, I fear.”

“What’s a psychopath?” Jiwoon asks, stealing a cookie that he believes to be cold enough to start munching on; it’s still warm, but it’s edible now.

“You’re too young to know. Eat your cookies so that we can leave. You have to finish your homework before your mom arrives, or I won’t let you play with her.” Jiwoon pouts, taking a big bite from the cookie.

“Anyway… Will you text me tomorrow? I want to know everything about Jeon’s situation as soon as you get any details.” Yoongi requests with a big, persuasive smile, and Taehyung presses his lips in a thin line. “Please…?”

“Fine, I’ll let you know if I find anything out. Just know that I won’t actively try to find answers. I’ll know if I hear anything, but don’t build up your expectations, because I won’t be snooping around.” he warns. “But my colleagues might tell me something.”

Yoongi grins. “I’ll wait for details.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  The fact that I spent 10 minutes on Tinder and didn’t match with anyone explains why I’m single as a fucking pringle…

|  ──  0% patience left 🔒 (@uncleyoongi)
|  ──  Your Tinder won’t lead you anywhere with that aggressive ass bio
|  ──  “If you open with a joke about how good I am with my hands because of my profession, just know that I’ll meet you, make you fall in love with me, get engaged, plan a wedding, and then when I get to you at the altar, I will punch you in the face in front of everyone and leave.”

|  ────  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  ────  The fact that you have that saved is sus. Also, it’s not aggressive, it’s a passive warning so that they’ll do better.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung smiles, looking away from the television when he sees the young woman approaching him. “I’m back. He fell asleep while we were playing…” she informs, sitting down on the couch next to him. “He’s so cute, he melts my heart when he’s all sleepy… He’s so big.”

“He’s getting too big.” Taehyung comments, making himself comfortable by throwing his legs over the coffee table. “He’ll turn nine in a few months, which is beyond— crazy to me. I can’t believe it, truly.”

“I’m excited for his birthday.” she smiles. “He’s been asking for a few things here and there, and I’ll be sure to note everything down so that we can prepare them for him. He’s so eager about everything, it’s adorable.”

“He’s a kid. I’d be worried if he wasn’t.”

Miyun sighs, resting her head on the nearest throw pillow. “You look tired. Did you have a bad day at work?” she asks, both curious and worried.

“Just long.” Taehyung shrugs. “I didn’t sleep well, either, so I didn’t have much energy today. That certainly didn’t help at all.” he adds. “What about you? Are you enjoying your job and the workplace?”

“It’s always weird to start off at a new place, but I’m enjoying the process…” Miyun nods with a little smile. “My coworkers are nice, and my bosses are very chill. I’m enjoying it. I ran here to see you two as soon as I clocked off, I didn’t even have time to have dinner… I just need to head home, cook something and go to sleep. I need a few hours of sleep.”

Taehyung perks up at that. “You’re not going to cook this late. There were a lot of leftovers from today’s dinner. C’mon, I’ll fix you a plate.” he gets up, offering a hand for her to take. “Jiwoon helped me cook, so it’s a bit salty, but it’s good. We both ate a lot, it was tasty.”

Miyun laughs, following him to the kitchen. “He always adds a bit too much of something. I didn’t know that he enjoyed cooking this much.”

“It’s a new thing, I believe. He’s been into getting his hands in the kitchen, always asks to help me when I’m preparing a meal.” Taehyung explains as he serves a good amount of food on a plate. “A new hobby.”

“And a good one, I’d say.” she nods to herself. “I’ll bake something with him tomorrow after picking him up. I don’t spend enough time with him…” Taehyung doesn’t quite know how to answer that, so he simply turns to the microwave to heat up the food. “I didn’t mean to kill the mood, I just— I want to try to spend more time with him now. My new job has better, more compatible shifts, so I’ll definitely work on that.”

“That’s good.”

“Can he sleep over at mine tomorrow? It’s been a long time since he stayed over…” she requests, eyes a bit shiny; regret, possibly. “Please…”

“Of course.” Taehyung nods. “We’ll fix him a bag with clothes.”

“Thanks.” Miyun gives him a tight smile, looking down at her hands as she thinks of something, any theme to change the topic. “Oh, is it true that you have that hot guy that Jiwoon is obsessed with in your hospital?”

“If anyone else asks me about this, I swear—”

Chapter Text

Hoseok breathes in a couple of times by the door before knocking twice, and opening it with a hesitant, shaky hand. His friend, and boss, is lying with his eyes closed, and his parents are still patiently sitting by his side. He can tell that Jungkook’s mother has been crying non-stop, the bags under her eyes deep, the redness unfading.

They look up at him, and offer him close-mouthed smiles.

“Hey.” Hoseok greets, bowing politely.

“Hey, there… Thank you so much for coming. We believe that, when it comes to certain things, it’s easier and more likely for him to listen to you than to us. Especially when it has to do with his career. You need to convince him to do this…” Jungkook’s mother speaks in a low tone, afraid that her son may wake up and hear her. “We beg you to try, at least.”

“I’ll try, of course.” the manager nods. “How is he…?”

“He’s in and out of it… He wakes up for an hour or so, but forces himself to just go back to sleep. This is being extremely harsh on him, and I can’t even begin to imagine how much. It’s hard to watch. It’s even harder to know what to say and not when he is awake… Everything feels like the wrong thing, and everything sounds insensitive…”

Hoseok looks over at the bed, and his mouth closes when he sees Jungkook’s eyelids fluttering. They all remain quiet as he slowly regains his conscience, looking around the room with a confused, sleepy expression.

Jungkook groans once he realizes that he was being watched. “What now?” he asks, voice groggy from disuse. “Are my fucking arms gone or some shit?” the question is laced with a rude and snarky tone, the athlete visibly bothered by having everyone’s eyes on him. His mother looks down.

“We wanted to talk to you.” his father starts. “We—”

“I truly don’t fucking care about any of that right now.” Jungkook interrupts, closing his eyes and turning his head away from them. “You may leave. I have demanded countless times, to be left alone, yet you’re all still here.”

“We’re not leaving you alone at a time like this, son. I can’t even— No, that’s out of the question.” she stands up, eyes brimming with tears. “I beg you to at least listen to what Hoseok has to say. Please, Jungkookie. Listen to him right now…” Jungkook sighs, still facing away from them. He recognizes the cry in his mother’s voice, and he doesn’t want to deal with tears right now. He hates it when people cry; it’s awkward, annoying, and uncomfortable.

“Fine, alright.” the athlete nods, eyeing his manager with poorly concealed annoyance. “What is it that you have to say, so important that my mother would beg me to listen to it?” he asks, not as interested as he should be. They can’t begin to try to understand how he feels.

“We’ve had a long conversation with your doctors, both yesterday and today… We all believe that it’s crucial that you accept their suggestion. They believe, or are very certain, that you’ll regain your mobility. To an extent at least, and that’s good.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, diverting them from his manager to stare at the wall once again. He doesn’t want to listen.

“Just go.” he orders in a quiet mumble.

His father sighs by his side. “This is why we all thought that it would’ve been better if you had accepted to have a therapist, a professional by your side when you received the news. It would’ve made it all easier to take in…”

“I’m Jeon Jungkook, I don’t need special help to break the news to me, just as I don’t need one or two nurses stretching my legs every day, as if that’d do anything at all to my situation.” Jungkook says. “I don’t need help, much less from fucking strangers. I don’t want any of this bullshit.”

“Oh, so this is a matter of pride?” Hoseok asks back, seeing a possible opportunity to get through to him. “You don’t want to do this just because you have a public image and ego to maintain? Really? Are you going to sacrifice the possibility of freaking walking again, just so that you don’t have to accept help from others?” Jungkook closes his mouth, out of words. “You’re the strongest guy that I know, and it’s precisely because you’re Jeon Jungkook that I can’t understand why you’re saying no to this. How do you not want to, at least, give it a try? Are you afraid that it might not work? Is that it?”

“I don’t have to explain my reasons to you, or anyone.”

“Jungkook, c’mon,… Imagine if this works out as well as they believe and hope for. Please, accept the help.” his manager insists, unwilling to give up.

“You don’t understand how damaging to me and my car— the career that I don’t even have anymore, if I was seen getting out of my house in a wheelchair. I don’t want to see pictures of myself in such a humiliating and grim state, scattered all over the internet and in newspapers. I’d rather not fucking do therapy. Especially when I know that it’d never work out, to begin with.” Jungkook argues, starting to get angry.

“You have equipment, and space for more equipment at your place. You don’t have to come here or to a clinic to get your sessions, we can just pay them more for them to send you doctor to your house, instead.”

Jungkook does pause at that, Hoseok’s words hanging for a second, but he still shakes his head. “I’m not changing my mind about this. My answer is final, and I’m done with this conversation, so you can stop. Enough is enough.”

“Son, we’re going to hire someone.” his mother informs, and he feels his jaw slacking with the information. “Whether you accept it or not, you need the help, and we’re hiring someone. They’ll be there when you realize that the best thing to do right now, is to start exercising and getting on with therapy.”

“But I don’t—”

“It’s not a question, Jungkook.” the older man interrupts, and Hoseok nods in agreement. “We had hoped that you’d listen to Hoseok but, since you’re not listening to him, then you leave us no choice. We’re still your parents, and we’ll sign in and start the process of being assigned a professional. You’ll eventually thank us for it.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You do, Kook, and it’s ok.” Hoseok quickly walks closer, sitting beside him. “It’s hard to accept, I know, but as reality sinks in, you’ll understand.”

Jungkook’s face darkens, and they don’t really know if it’s from anger alone, or if there’s more to it. “You do as you wish.” he says, his words cold and cutting. “I don’t care. I really don’t. Do whatever the fuck you want to do.”

His parents look down. No one knows what to say.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Hoseok grabs his phone from his pocket when he feels it vibrate, only to gasp in worry at the text message that he sees. It’s Jimin, stressfully telling him about how Jungkook has failed to answer his texts, and so he took it upon himself to show up at the hospital with Yugyeom. The text ends with a request for Hoseok to help them get through security guarding downstairs.

iMESSAGE

|  Park Jimin (Model, Jk’s Friend)
|  Please, don’t leave me on read. I beg you to come let us through.

Me  |
Ok… Give me 5 minutes.  |
I’ll go downstairs to let you through.  |

Whether it’s a horrible idea or not, he’s not so sure, and he’ll face the consequences later of going against his boss’ wish of having no visitors but, for now, he just leaves the room and rushes downstairs.

He takes them both back to the right floor, barely managing to hear what they’re saying as he can only see this whole thing going horribly for everyone involved, and he prays for that not to happen. He doesn’t want a fight.

“…and we thank you for letting us see him. He didn’t tell us anything, only said that he’s alive, and that there was no need for us to come here… but we couldn’t not come when our best friend has been in a car crash. We saw the pictures of his car after the accident, it looked like a pancake, all smashed…”

“Yeah, it looked awfully bad.” Hoseok sighs, nodding. He, too, felt his heart stop when he saw pictures of the car circulating online. “I don’t know why he didn’t want to tell you two about what happened, but hopefully he’ll be happy to see you… and willing to tell you everything about it.”

“Everything?” Yugyeom parrots, confused.

“Yeah… The details. You know, of the accident.” the manager tries, pairing it with a weak smile. He doesn’t want to be the one telling them about the consequences of the accident, especially when he doesn’t know the reasons why Jungkook hid it from his best friends; he might not want them to know.

“Is he awake?” Jimin asks.

“He was awake when I left to get you two, so I’m sure that he hasn’t managed to fall asleep so quickly. He’s been sleeping most of the day, though.”

“Well, at least his workaholic ass gets to sleep and rest for a few days, not everything is bad.” Yugyeom chuckles. “I’m curious to see how he’s doing, he sent two texts and disappeared… I really had thought that he had died, and he didn’t say shit. We were worried sick, you can’t imagine.”

“He almost did die…” Hoseok lets out before he can stop himself, and the two gasp, stopping in their tracks. “He will tell you about it, I’m sure. Or, at least, he’ll tell you as much as he wants you to know. I don’t want to be the one saying anything. Let’s just get there, before he actually falls asleep…”

“Okay…” they say in unison, following him up close.”

They only stop when they get in front of the room’s door, guarded by a great number of security guards. “You two can go in… I’ll let you have some privacy. His parents just left to have lunch, so you have him all to yourself.”

“His parents came all the way from Busan?!” Hoseok only nods. “Jesus, it really was serious… Thank you for bringing us here, we’ll go talk to him.” he bows, rushing to keep up with Jimin’s pace, as the latter is already opening the door. Jungkook doesn’t open his eyes or move, so they assume that he’s asleep after all. Jimin walks ahead while Yugyeom quietly closes the door, and he sits down on the bed, right next to his best friend. The movement and the close proximity do make the athlete lift his head up from the pillow, confused.

His eyes widen comically. “Jimin?” he asks, surprised.

“Hey.” Jimin smiles, reaching for Jungkook’s hand to hold. “We had to come see you, we were too worried, and we had to see with our own eyes that you’re alive after all of those articles saying otherwise…” he explains, and Jungkook’s eyes scan the room at the mention of ‘we’; Yugyeom waves at him.

“You shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook pulls back. “I want to be alone.”

“No way.” Yugyeom shakes his head. “Hoseok said that you’d tell us what happened, and we want to know. We were really fucking worried.”

Jungkook gulps, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t remember the crash itself… I left the gym, and got in my car and, next thing I knew, I was waking up here. I was told by the doctors that I almost died, and had to have two emergency surgeries to try to save my life. It was pretty serious, I guess.”

“Shit, that sounds terrifying.” Jimin whispers, placing a hand over his chest. “I was so scared when I saw the news… I’m relieved to see that you’re alive and well. Are you in pain right now? From the surgeries?”

“No, I’m not.” Jungkook shrugs, eyes trailing down his own body to his unresponsive lower limbs. “I don’t really, uhm, feel… anything.” he settles for saying, chest aching with the actual weight of his words. His eyes would water, had he been by himself in the room, but he holds it in.

He doesn’t cry in front of people.

“Mhm, the meds are good, I see.” Yugyeom tries to joke as he walks around the bed to sit on his other side. “Wait— Does this mean that you won’t be able to attend your fight next week?!” Jungkook really wants to kick them out now, and yell at his manager for even letting them in, but he holds back.

“Yes, that’s what it means. I won’t be able to attend.” he tries to smile, but his lips don’t even twitch. “My team will put out a statement soon… The other guy will probably be considered the winner, I don’t know.”

“What…? You were totally going to win, that’s not fair. Why can’t you try to reschedule it? If you say that you’re recovering from emergency surgery, they’ll postpone it until you feel better. You know that they’ll do whatever you ask them to, you’re Jeon Jungkook. You can’t let him take your belt.”

“Hold on…” Jimin interrupts. “It might be good for you to stay away from this fight, and to take a while off from the sport. You need to properly recover from this, you can’t rush the healing process for the sake of a win. I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure that it takes a long time to heal internal wounds, and you should rest…” Jungkook doesn’t want to listen anymore.

“Right. I don’t know, I have to think of what I’m going to do.” he shrugs, contemplating just how to ask them to leave. “I need to rest, so I’d appreciate it if you two left now. I’m great, doing amazing, you may go.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“We’re staying for a bit, then we’ll let you rest. In fact, Yugyeom will get us coffee, and I’ll cuddle you as we wait.” Jimin smiles, whereas Yugyeom only fixes him with a disapproving look. “I’ll take mine with a bit of milk, thanks.”

“I have to do everything…” he complains. “I’ll be right back.”

 ⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I really just want them to leave. They keep trying to find excuses for the fight. Why can’t they understand that there’s no solution? I want them to go so that I can sleep.
|  I feel so numb. I can’t even care about anything right now.

|  Jiminie 🔒 (@min_1129390019)
|  He hasn’t smiled once, he’s barely even looking at us… He doesn’t even seem to care about losing his winning streak. I can sense his pain, but he’s so silent…

|  ──  I defeated jk once 🔒 (@ventingorsmth)
|  ──  He didn’t even try to defend his pride when I mentioned the fight I won against him… We need to work harder to get him to smile.

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I really don’t have it in me to want to talk to anyone. I want to go home and sleep for a week straight. The smell of hospital is making me sick already.
|  I won that fight, though. He played dirty. No argue there.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung’s just finishing up with a patient when he sees a message urging him to meet up with his colleagues in their break room, and he can already guess what the theme will be — one that he’s not looking forward to.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Kim.” the man smiles.

“Oh, don’t thank me, c’mon. Don’t forget to always use the walker whenever you need to sit or stand, avoid putting that much strain on your knees alone.” Taehyung reminds him yet again with a polite grin as he makes his way to the door. “I’ll see you next week… Take care.”

“You, too.” they both bow to each other before the door is closed, and Taehyung sends a quick text informing them that he’s on his way there. Seokjin immediately replies with an order for him to run — he won’t.

A few nurses greet him on the way, and he’d much rather stop and chat with any of them than sit listening about the patient that no one seems to shut up about. He knocks once, not waiting for permission before opening the door.

“Hey.” he greets. “I was with a patient, I came as soon as we finished.”

“It’s ok, come in.” Seojoon gestures to one of the chairs, and he gets the silent message; he sits down with all of his coworkers, the entire physiotherapy team scattered all over the room. “I’m sure that you all have heard about the new patient that we’ve started to care for. We have yet to assign him one of you, but we’ve already been hired, which is very good news.” he starts.

Good news for whom, Taehyung almost asks.

“Are we going to know what happened to him?” one of his coworkers asks, speaking for all of the curious people in the room. “We’re all… curious.”

“He’s been in a car crash, but that’s all that I’m going to tell you, which is also not news, as it’s all over the internet and television. Mr. Jeon doesn’t want his situation to be public, so I’m going to respect his wishes. Only the doctor assigned to him will have all of the information on the case, which I’m sure that you can all understand.” there are a few complaints in the room, but nothing coherent, only a few murmurs, so their boss clears his throat to send the room back to a complete silence. “I’ve gone through all of your schedules, I needed to know those with the most time available to focus on his treatment, as we’ll be getting really well paid for this one case, which—”

“I have time.” Seokjin interrupts. “One of my daily patients moved away to another city, so her spots are still available.” he tries, persuading, and Taehyung chuckles at the eagerness. Everyone seems eager to be picked, while he’s sitting there with his legs crossed and checking his nails, barely listening.

Seojoon nods. “As I said, I checked your schedules, you don’t need to tell me about your empty spots, or your availability.”

Namjoon shakes his head at him; slow and judging.

“Shut it.” Seokjin whispers.

“You shut it.”

“Most of you have empty spots, and most could take in the patient, but our legal team advised us to care for more than availability. We looked at the patient satisfaction rates, as we need someone like him to be impressed and happy with the care that he receives from his hospital. A satisfied celebrity means good press, and maybe donations to the hospital.” Seojoon moves on, and that does get Taehyung to look up, alarmed. “I trust all of you when it comes to your work, so I didn’t have to bother considering that aspect. We based our pick solely on how much you please your patients.”

“I assume that you’ve already made a decision.”

“And you assume correctly, Park.” their boss nods, eyes meeting Taehyung’s from across the room. “I thank you all for coming, and you may all leave so that I can talk to Taehyung alone now.”

“I’m not interested, I fear.” Taehyung speaks up as they begin to stand up from their seats, and he hears a few giggles from his friends. “I’m sure that my colleagues would be thrilled to work with the guy, and will be even more willing to appeal to him, and make him happy. I pass, thank you.”

“Well, the decision has already been made, and your name is already in the files. Changing it now would look horrible on our side. We don’t want a fan to look after him, we want a doctor who is known for satisfying the patients, apart from being a good professional.”

Taehyung gapes, silently watching his colleagues leave the room, and it hits him — he won’t be able to turn this down. He sighs in defeat. “Ok, fine, I guess. He’s just a normal patient for me, though, I won’t be treating him any different, or like he’s special or important. I’ll care for him the same way that I care for all of my other patients.”

“And that seems to give you great results, so that’s good enough.” his boss smiles, which isn’t the reaction that he was expecting. “I’ll give you all of his files so that you can read everything about his case in detail, but know that it’s… it’s not looking good.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow, surprised. “It’s actually serious? I genuinely would bet on it being something stupid. Celebrities can be dramatic,”

“He’s a wheelchair user as of now.” the doctor’s jaw slacks, positively shocked by the news and, ok, he feels a little guilty for what he assumed. “He suffered some trauma to his spinal cord during the crash, so he’s paralyzed from the waist down. There are chances that he might walk again but, as you know, it doesn’t work the same way for everyone. Again, I’ll get you his files for you to read, but this is a very short summary.”

“How is he dealing with the news?” he asks, because he can’t find it in himself to lack sympathy for the athlete as a human. “Considering his career…”

“Not well.” Seojoon sighs. “He barely listened to me when I was explaining what to do, and while I explained that he can regain his mobility. We got hired by his parents, too, because he didn’t want to accept our help. This is taking a toll on him. His parents said that he’s not in agreement.”

“I can imagine.” Taehyung nods. “I will study his case thoroughly.”

“Good. He won’t be cared for at this hospital, by the way. His team is going to be working on installing everything that we need at his house, and you’ll be going there instead, because he doesn’t want to be seen in public while in a wheelchair. His parents assured us that they’ll pay for everything that you spend on your drives there and back, so I’m sure that you won’t mind.”

I do, he almost says. “Nope, it’s all good. I can do that.” he smiles. “When are we starting? If it’s something like this, we should’ve already started, it’s not good to let the injury cool down… I do not want to have to deal with him anytime soon, but it’s the best thing to do if he wants to get better.” Taehyung asks, being as honest as he can.

“He definitely should’ve started already, but he doesn’t believe that this will work, so he simply didn’t want anything to do with it. His parents hired us against his will. You will be going there tomorrow for the first time and, hopefully, he’ll be cooperative.” Taehyung wants to let out a long cry.

If Jungkook isn’t a cooperative patient, he doesn’t know to what extent he’ll be able to handle that. While he is kind and patient with everyone that he treats, he already nurtures some kind of dislike towards the younger man, and he also doesn’t like the fact that he’s known for being rude, arrogant, and cocky.

He’s already raised a respectful kid, he doesn’t need or want to have to parent a grown man into cooperating or being decent. He can only hope for the best. “Give me his files…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

While preparing dinner for himself and his son, Taehyung dials his best friend’s number to let him know what he’s found out. He knows that he can’t disclose anything regarding his patients, swearing an oath to keep their confidentiality, but he trusts Yoongi blindly. “Hey.” he greets.

“Hey, Tae. How is he?” Taehyung chuckles at the eagerness.

“It’s a very serious situation. I really did think that they were just being dramatic because of his status, but he’s paralyzed from the waist down.” he reveals, and the gasp on the other side is so loud that Yoongi chokes.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“I’m not.” he assures.

“He can’t walk? My God, I can’t believe that… He was going to be champion next week, this is fucking insane. How is he doing mentally…?”

“Apparently, he hasn’t taken the news that well, but he also hasn’t been very expressive about it. His files say that he’s refused to talk to the counselors that tried to get anything out of him, and he’s just angry and silent.”

“Holy shit…” Yoongi lets out. “Wait, how do you have his files?”

Taehyung sighs. “I was assigned to him. Being nice is biting me in the ass. I should start being rude and strictly professional.” he complains.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah. I have to go to his house every two days as of now. He hasn’t accepted the therapy, so his parents decided that it’s best to go every two days rather than forcing this onto him every single day.” Taehyung explains.

“Dude… You’re going to get punched in the face by Jeon Jungkook.”

“Why would I get punched?!”

“He’s rude and reactive. You’re rude to disrespectful people and you already hate him. I don’t see this ending well for you. You’ll get punched.”

Taehyung hums. “I’d sue him dry of his money if he punched me, so he can go ahead and do that so that I can buy a bigger apartment.” Yoongi laughs at that. “I can’t believe that I’m going to have to see him in person, I don’t want to have to deal with him. I can already guess that he’s going to be a pain in my ass and won’t cooperate. I’m already picturing my struggle, having to carry him everywhere and do everything by myself.”

“This is going to be so much fun to witness, I’m so entertained.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  0% patience left 🔒 (@uncleyoongi)
|  I can’t believe that Tae’s working for Jungkook and isn’t a bit excited.

|  ──  🖤 (@miypk95)
|  ──  He’s what now
|  ──  @notae, please slip my number to him, I beg you. He’s so damn hot.

|  ────  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  ────  …I hate this situation more and more by the second.

“Dad…!” Taehyung hears a long, drawn-out call after him, and he quickly puts the last piece of clothing in the washing machine and hits the button to start it before leaving the room with quick steps. “Hurry…!”

“I’m on my way, kiddo.” he informs with a chuckle, already nearing the bedroom door. He knocks twice before opening it, only to find Jiwoon lying on the floor with one of his school notebooks in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

“My teacher gave us an impossible assignment.” the young boy complains with a childish pout, gesturing to the scribbled pages. “Help me.”

“Hm, let’s see what this is about…” Taehyung sits down by his side, taking the book to read it over. “Oh, this doesn’t seem so hard, you just have to write about yourself. I like it when they assign you these introspective works, it’s good for kids your age to start sharing about yourselves like that.” he leans back on his hands after handing the book back to his son.

“What does intro— instro— introspective mean?”

“Uhm… Something that makes you think and examine yourself. These assignments make you have to think about yourself, which is good. Now, what seems to be the problem with this? Why is it so impossible for you to do?”

Jiwoon mumbles something to himself as he reaches for the book, and clears his throat before reading. “Question number four: how did your parents fall in love? My parents are not in love.” Taehyung opens his mouth, but he’s beaten to it by his son. “How can I explain something that isn’t real? Tell the teachers about it so that I won’t have to turn this assignment in.”

“See, what the question asks for doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be real in current time, you know? Your mom and I were in love at some point, and that’s why you’re here. You can write about that. A lot of kids have divorced parents, it’s not that uncommon…” he shrugs. “They asked for how we fell in love, not if we’re still in love.”

“Are you and mommy divorced?”

“No, because we were never married, but it’s the same thing. We met in high school, we were classmates. That’s all that you need to know to start writing something, and I won’t be the one to tell you how to write it. You’re old and smart enough to do your own assignments by yourself.”

Jiwoon pouts. “It would be easier if you helped…” he tries.

Taehyung laughs, standing up. “Yeah, I’m sure that it would, but then I would be taking away a learning opportunity from you.” he ruffles the young boy’s black hair, heading for the door. “If you finish it before ten, I’ll correct it for you, and I’ll let you have a scoop of ice cream. Is that motivational enough?”

“Yes!” that seems to do it; his son grabs his pencil right away, leaning forward to start writing down his assignment. Taehyung smiles to himself.

He can hear his phone ringing in the kitchen, and he sighs. “It really better not be work…” he complains, jogging back there. On the screen, he finds his boss’ name and picture. “For fuck’s sake…” he picks up. “Hey! What a lovely surprise.” it’s hard, but he succeeds at faking his excitement.

“Hey, Taehyung. I didn’t catch you in a bad time, did I?”

“No, not at all. I was just helping my kid with homework… What’s wrong? Have you picked someone else to take over Jeon’s case?” he asks, voice laced with hope that makes his boss laugh — that’s a bad sign.

“Not quite, no. I’m calling to confirm that you’re to be at his house tomorrow morning by nine. His parents want to meet you first, and then you’ll have the assigned session around ten. I’ll send you the address.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I had a session at nine. Did you move it?”

“I did. I pushed it to later in the afternoon. I’m sure that you understand that we have to take greater care of someone as influential as Jeon. If he publicly complains about our service, or the hospital, it could ruin us. Please, Taehyung, do your best with him. I’ve realized that you’re not fond of the guy but, as your boss, I’m telling you that there’s no way out of this… So, please, try.”

“I will.” Taehyung nods. “I may not be fond of him, but I would never jeopardize his progress and recovery. I’ll do my best… and hopefully, we won’t insult each other on our first meeting.” he jokes, but he means it.

Seojoon cackles. “Hopefully. His parents say that he can be hard to deal with… You have a kid, so I’m confident that you’ll manage to deal with him.”

“I beg to differ. My son is eight-years-old, and I, at twenty-five, won’t be parenting a grown man. I’m going to be professional and do my best to help him recover, but if he’s an asshole, excuse my language, I won’t just tolerate it, and I’ll definitely get off the case, and pass it to someone else to deal with him.”

“That’s fair.” his boss agrees, surprising him. “I hope that everything goes down smoothly tomorrow, but I also don’t want you to be disrespected at work. I appreciate the fact that you’ll try, and that you’ll do your best. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll assign someone else to replace you on his case.”

“Ok, thank you.”

“It’s nothing. Let me know how it goes.”

Taehyung hums. “I will. Bye, now.” they bid their goodbyes before Taehyung hangs up, and he just stares at the phone’s now black screen for a few seconds. “What in the actual fuck am I getting myself into…”

Chapter Text

“…lastly, this lever right here serves to lock your wheels. If you pull it into this position, it will be safe for you to let go of the wheels, as they won’t neither go forward, nor backward.” the nurse explains as she exemplifies, and she can tell that everyone in the room is paying the utmost attention — that, except for one person.

Jungkook is simply staring ahead of her, eyes focused on the chair itself, expression unreadable. He can’t make himself listen; not that he wants to, either way. All that he can think of when he looks at the chair is how as soon as he sits there, that will be who he is. He’s never getting off of it. He’s never going to stand, to walk, take a step again. It’s ironic, it really is.

An athlete losing his legs. It’s almost like a sick joke.

“Mr. Jeon?” his head twitches as he focuses back, looking between everyone to try and understand who called his name. “Did you understand my colleague’s explanation?” one of the women asks, expectant, and he nods.

“Yes.” he lies. Truth is, he could barely pay attention to the actual words, too distracted by the implications of the damned chair. He doesn’t want it, he doesn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that he’s going to be tied up to it, become dependent. He doesn’t even want to think.

“Great. We’ll take care of the papers for you to be discharged, and we’ll return shortly to help you, and show you how to get on the chair when you’re lying down.” Jungkook doesn’t answer, simply looks away.

“Okay, thank you so much.” his mother is the one to say something, and he sighs, closing his eyes; he wants to fall asleep and wake up to the news that it was only a nightmare, a cruel nightmare. They wait until the doctors leave, until he’s left with only his parents and manager, to speak again. “Son, you don’t have to be scared… We’re all here for you, and you know that much.”

“What do I have to be scared of? It’s just a stupid fucking chair. I’m not scared, I’m angry. I can’t walk, and they just explained exactly how hard it will be for me to do anything. I can’t even come to a stop without worrying whether I’ve pulled all the fucking levers or not. Am I meant to be happy about that?!”

No one knows what to say, heads tipping down and, somehow, that makes him even angrier. Everything is easy, everything can be positive until he asks them an actual question, until he addresses the reality. Then nothing is positive, nothing is easy. What a joke.

“I don’t want to go home.” he informs.

“Huh? Why not, son?” his father asks.

“I don’t want pictures of me in a wheelchair all over the internet or on the covers of magazines and newspapers. I don’t want to be seen by the public, or paparazzi. I’d rather stay here with shitty food and the annoying doctors.”

“The annoying doctors saved your life—”

“No, they fucking ruined it.”

“Jungkookie…” his mother steps closer, hesitantly combing the hair away from his forehead. “You can’t stay here forever, so let’s not delay the inevitable. You’ve always been the strongest person that I know, you’re so brave… You’ve never, not once, cared about what others say. Why care now?”

“It’s not the same.” Jungkook says, as a matter-of-factly.

“We’ll use the VIP entrance, Kook. No one will see you getting into your van, no one will know a thing. I’ll make a call for the driver to come through there instead of the main entrance, and make sure that no stranger has access to the place while you’re getting there.” Hoseok offers, already grabbing his phone, and Jungkook just nods; the green-light for him to go ahead and take care of it all. He’d prefer that, yes.

“We’ll take care of that.” his father interrupts, giving his wife a look for her to understand his intentions, and she quickly nods. The woman kisses Jungkook’s hand before leaving the room with her husband, not only to handle everything regarding his discharge, but also to give the two some privacy.

Hoseok clears his throat as he steps closer. “I have some information for you.” he starts. “We’ve hired a stay-at-home nurse, Kook. She’ll be staying in one of your guest rooms, and she’ll be there in case you need anything, at whatever time of the day. Your parents were rather worried about your reaction to this, so they asked me to be the one telling you… They were adamant o—”

“That’s not even in question. I don’t want a stranger staying in my house, so you can go ahead and fire her right now. It’s truly, truly not happening. The only strangers allowed are my maid, and the cook. No one else.” Jungkook states, firm. “It’s final. This isn’t up for discussion.”

His manager sighs. “We assumed that you’d say that.” he admits. “It’s either you accept her, a professional, or both of your parents will have to move in with you for an undetermined amount of time. It’s a simple decision, Kook, and I ask you, as your friend who cares about you a lot, not to put this responsibility on your parents’ shoulders. They won’t know how to deal with certain things, and they’re not trained professionals…”

“So, in other words, I don’t have an option.” his manager remains silent, and the athlete chuckles, the sound bitter and dark. “Fine, I guess. As long as she leaves me the fuck alone unless I specifically ask for something.”

“I’ll make sure to tell her to keep her distance.” Hoseok quickly says, surprised to hear him agree with the idea so easily. “I’ll leave that very clear.”

“What about you? Are you… going to quit your job?”

“Why would I?”

Jungkook shrugs. “My career is over. What’s there to manage?”

“My friend’s well-being and future. You have places rented, you have partnerships, so many different things for me to manage daily to keep your income. Unless you fire me, I’m not quitting the job. You’re a pain in the ass sometimes, but I consider you a friend apart from being my boss, and I’d never quit on you. Especially not under these circumstances.”

The athlete looks down, unsure of how to answer such a statement. It’s hard to talk about emotions, it’s hard to show a lighter side of himself, to show vulnerability. He doesn’t even know how to thank his manager for staying despite everything. “That’s good.” is what he says. “I want my bed.”

“You’ll leave soon, Kook. Rest for a bit…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook’s head tips down when he spots the paparazzi in front of the entrance of the gated community and, though he knows that it’s impossible for them to see through the black tinted windows, he still tries to hide. He doesn’t want to be seen. By anyone, really.

“Are you ok, Jungkook?” Hoseok worriedly asks with a hand reaching out for his own; Jungkook quickly pulls it away, looking out of the window without saying a single word. He doesn’t want to talk, he wants to be left alone.

They’re allowed into the gated community, and he feels a little lighter knowing that no one can get anywhere near his actual house, and so he’s out of the public eye for good, for as long as he wants to be. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever step foot outside again. He can’t let the world see him.

The drive takes around two more minutes, his house being one of the farthest ones from the entrance, and he worries at his bottom lip as he sees the other houses on the way. All of the houses in the community belong to celebrities, so he knows that his privacy is safe, but he doesn’t just trust people.

Besides, he doesn’t really like celebrities.

The car only comes to a stop when inside of one of his garages, and he doesn’t move an inch. He can’t get out of the car by himself, so there’s no use, which makes him feel more than incompetent, pathetic.

His father and Hoseok both rush out of the van to get his chair, unfolding it as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he couldn’t dread getting out of the car more than now. He shouldn’t need help to do it. It’s a simple task.

Jungkook opens the door, simply waiting as Hoseok approaches with the chair, and leaves it right by his side. He promptly rolls up his sleeves, fixing his position. “Let’s do this, c’mon.” he prefaces, speaking more to himself than anything. Jungkook’s really heavy, and he was never a fan of working out, so picking him up in such a position is a hard task.

Thankfully, he manages to pick him up and place him on the chair carefully — still, with a few grunts that show just how much of a challenge it is for him. Jungkook tries to move his legs to put his feet up on the metal supports, but only angers himself more when nothing happens. “There we go…” his mother bends down, lifting one of his legs gently to do what he was trying to, and he hates it. He hates that he can’t do anything. “…and the other one. All set, we can go inside.” she smiles, but he knows her too well.

He can see how forced and pained it is.

“Would you like to eat something first?” his father questions.

“No, I want my bed.” he says, a little colder than intended, but he doesn’t apologize or think to take his words back and maybe explain himself a little better. He knows that he’s being unfair to them, rude when he shouldn’t, but he can’t even make himself care for it. He can’t care for anything at all, it seems.

Ever since he woke up on that hospital bed, his entire personality feels numb. It’s like he’s not really there, even though he is. It’s weird, uncomfortable, and he doesn’t like the feeling of not caring for anything at all, of not feeling anything other than anger and resentment.

Hoseok presses the number code on the front door to unlock it, letting them in first. Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at the number of folded boxes neatly resting in a corner, and he gives his manager a look. “What’s all of this shit?”

“We had some equipment installed in many rooms… They will throw the boxes out before leaving, worry not.” Hoseok explains, and Jungkook simply nods, gesturing for his mother to continue pushing his chair, still unwilling to actually push himself. The moment that he touches the wheels, it’ll be too real. He’ll avoid it for as long as possible.

His room isn’t the way that he left it, and it’s not only tidied up, it’s also been moved around, which wasn’t necessary. “Why did they move my things?”

“It was just to make it more spacious and—”

“My bedroom alone is more spacious than some people’s whole house, there was no need to go through my shit.” Jungkook complains, his eyebrows knitted together in anger as his fists ball up on his lap. “I don’t want strangers fucking up my entire damn house. I agreed to have some equipment installed in the gym, the pool, and one bathroom, and nothing more than that. Don’t go against what I say, this is still my fucking house. I don’t want to deal with this shit on top of everything. Stop trying to change everything.”

“We’re sorry, Kook, we just wanted to help.” his father explains, his tone failing to hide how dejected he feels. “We only—”

“You’re making me feel more like an invalid than what I already am. Stop doing this shit. You’re not helping, you’re making me feel even worse about everything that is happening.” Jungkook admits, his voice raising, and they all share a worried look. “Just put me in bed and go, I want to be left alone.”

“You’re not an invalid, that’s a horrible word.” his mother whispers, voice wavering with tears and Jungkook wants to yell at all of them to just leave.

“Just put me in bed.” he repeats. Hoseok walks closer to him, locking the wheels before picking him up. Jungkook nudges his hands away, using his own upper-body strength to fix himself once he’s been placed on the mattress.

“Your assigned nurse will move in during this afternoon, so we’ll all still be here to receive her… Regarding your physiotherapist, he’ll also visit today for the first time. You can take a nap, if you’d like, and we’ll let you know when he gets here.” the woman informs as she moves to tuck him in, but he immediately stops her. “Uhm, okay, you should nap…”

“You can go.” Jungkook whispers as his eyes close. “I’m exhausted.”

“Alright. Rest well.” she bends down, hesitating before kissing the top of his head, but ends up going for it. He feels a hand ruffling his hair, and he can only guess that it’s his father’s, but he doesn’t look to check. His eyes only open when he hears the door close, and he’s relieved to see nothing but darkness. No one’s there, and the lights are off.

He’s alone for the first time since he’s received the news, and he’s more than thankful for that. He needs the time alone, he needs to be by himself. His chest feels too full, too much has happened in such a short period of time.

His eyes are quick to brim with tears and, before he knows it, there’s a tear rolling down his cheek. After that one, many more follow. He has to grab one of the pillows to hide his face against and muffle his sobs, unwilling to let anyone hear him cry. He doesn’t cry. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t cry.

He can’t cry in front of anyone.

Especially now that no one understands the feeling of loss tightening up his chest, and making it hard to breathe. He’s lost everything, and he hasn’t even fully comprehended or accepted just how much everything actually is.

He doesn’t want to think. He only wants to sleep.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  0% patience left 🔒 (@uncleyoongi)
|  Tae just called me and he’s almost crying as he drives to @’s house.
|  Oh God, this is going to be so much fun.
|  Challenge: don’t get fired on the first day

|  ──  🖤 (@miypk95)
|  ──  As someone who knows him very well, I can say that sleep deprived Taehyung is even more honest… If he doesn’t give that hottie at least 1 dry or rude response today, it’ll be something to be celebrated

|  ────  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  ────  I’m a professional, I won’t be rude to him
|  ────  Stop calling him hot, by the way. That’s disturbing.

“…I just got to the right house, I have to go.” Taehyung informs, his car slowly coming to a halt in front of the mansion — it might just be the biggest house that he’s ever seen, and he knows himself enough to know that he’ll get lost at least once. It doesn’t look like it has more than one floor, but it’s huge.

“Alright, give me updates once you leave.” Yoongi chuckles, hanging up, and Taehyung pockets his phone. He’s about to turn off his engine when he spots a man approaching him, so he quickly rolls down the window.

“Good afternoon… Kim Taehyung, right?” the stranger questions.

“That’s me, yes, hello.” Taehyung nods, completely shutting off the radio this time around. “I know that I’m right on time, but it was a challenge to find the right house… I’ve never been in a gated community before, so I was a little lost.” he explains before he can be asked.

“Oh, that’s totally fine. I, too, got lost when I first came here.” the other waves a dismissive hand with a large smile. “I have just opened one of the garages, and you can park your car there instead of leaving it here. Just drive a few more meters, and you’ll see the open door. I’ll meet you there.”

“Alright…” Taehyung nods, driving slowly until he sees an open garage door, and he carefully parks in one of the only empty spots. He can spot five cars, all of them looking a little too humble to belong to the athlete. Which he’s thankful for. He wouldn’t be able to afford to fix any sort of damage if he scratched an expensive car. Being a doctor doesn’t pay that well.

“Whenever you come over, you can use this garage. It’s the one for visits and workers. Don’t park in the other one… Jungkook treasures his cars, and he’d probably flip if anything happened to them.” the same man explains as Taehyung gets out of his vehicle, startling him a little bit.

“That’s ironic.” he mumbles, locking the doors.

“Sorry?”

“I said that I understand. This garage, always.” Taehyung nods with a smile, saving himself before he can ruin it all on the first day. “Are you his friend, if you don’t mind me asking? I thought that I’d only be meeting his parents before the first session…?”

“I’m Jung Hoseok, his manager… It’s nice to meet you. I do consider him my dear friend, but he’s also my boss, yes.” Hoseok, as he now knows, explains, and he makes a low sound of acknowledgement. “We’ll send you an email with all of the codes to the doors of the house. Every door in the house has a four-digit code, as he prefers technology rather than keys. Truth is, you never lose a code, so he might have a point…”

“I see.” he nods, following after the manager. He doesn’t really know what to say, as he feels a little out of place, and that only gets worse once they actually enter the house. It already looks big on the outside, but it’s huge on the inside. Tall ceilings, wide hallways. It’s mainly decorated in black, white and grays, but it all ties up together. It looks very modern, expensive, and definitely out of Taehyung’s physiotherapist paycheck.

He’s led to the living room, and he’s a little in awe. It’s almost bigger than his apartment, he believes. The windows to the backyard are floor-to-ceiling, and the ceilings are so tall that the natural light coming in is vast. The grass outside looks a very healthy green, which gives color to the room.

The couple stands up right away, so he doesn’t have time to appreciate the decorations; they bow to him, and he politely mirrors the action. “Good afternoon.” he greets with a warm smile. “It is nice to meet you.”

“Hi, come on in, take a seat.” the woman smiles, gesturing towards one of the white couches, and he leaves the bag on the floor next to his feet before sitting down with a straight posture. “We asked you to come in a little earlier just so that we can give you a bit of… let’s say, a heads-up. Our Jungkook can be a little tough to deal with, and he’s finding it really hard to deal with this situation, so he’s more… reactive. He’s not the nicest man when responding to what we say, so we ask you to be understanding. As much as you can, of course.” she quests, and he wants to sigh, but stops himself.

“Some patients are more reactive and colder than others, which is something that I’m used to. No one deals with something like this the same way, so it’s never really a surprise when we find… rude patients.” Taehyung assures. “Don’t worry about it, this is all fairly common.”

“He can be very rude, we want you to be aware of that beforehand. We understand if, after meeting him, you decide that you’re not comfortable under these conditions, and we won’t hold it above your head if you tell us that you wish for us to find someone else.”

“I’m an extremely patient man, and I’m also a little stubborn. I don’t give up on patients that easily.” he says, though he’s not looking forward to Jungkook’s rudeness in the slightest. He’d much rather just tell them to find someone else, but his boss would hate him, and he doesn’t want to disappoint.

“That’s amazing to hear.” they smile. “Do you know anything about him? Some people aren’t into sports, so don’t be hesitant to tell us if you don’t.”

“I’m not into sports, but your son’s face is kind of everywhere, so it’s hard not to know of him.” Taehyung says with a quiet chuckle. “I know… his reputation. I’ll have to personally check whether the idea that I have of him matches the reality or not.” it will, he knows that much. Jeon Jungkook is rude, cocky, and his head is big with his inflated ego. He knows all of that and much more. He can’t possibly tell his parents about it, though.

“It’s good that you’re open to that.”

“I’ll also say, and I’m sure that I speak for all of us: it’s good that you’re not a fan of his.” Hoseok comments. “We want someone who’s here to work and help him get better, not someone to pester him about his wins and his career.” Taehyung wants to laugh, but holds in. He’s nowhere near being a fan.

“That’s what I’m here for. Quite honestly, I don’t care for his status, I just want to do my job, and to work on his recovery with him.” Jungkook’s parents share a look that worries him for a second, afraid that he might have said the wrong thing, but they weakly smile at each other; they seem satisfied.

“Shall we show you the gym and the pool areas? We were informed that water exercises are also good to strengthen muscles, so we had some equipment added to the inside pool.” the woman offers, standing up.

“Is there another pool?” he asks, out of pure curiosity.

“Oh, yeah, there’s a pool outside.” Hoseok is the one to answer the question as they all stand, and Taehyung doesn’t even hide his surprise. The manager laughs. “Yeah, this place is absolutely insane. We’ll show you around before your session together, just so that you have an idea of what places you can use for your sessions… In case you want to. I don’t know how it all works.”

Taehyung nods. “That’d be lovely.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung checks his nails, his foot tapping the floor almost anxiously as he waits for the stay-at-home nurse to bring the athlete to the gym for them to have a first conversation and, if all goes well, a first physiotherapy session.

He stands up when he hears the door open, and he doesn’t quite know what to expect to see. Still, he’s surprised by what comes into view. The man sitting on the chair does not look like the same man that he’s seen in magazines, the television, or the articles that he’s seen online with his face plastered everywhere. Jungkook’s hair is bed-messy, his eyes red and a little swollen, skin paler than what he remembers from the pictures. There seems to be no trace of make-up on his face, and he’s dressed in simple sweatpants and a hoodie.

He looks messy, sad, and… normal.

His eyes, on the other hand, look cold and focused.

He’s already glaring at him, and he hasn’t even said a word yet.

“I’ll leave you two to it… Mr. Jeon, press the button if you need anything, as we have agreed. I’ll be in the living room, and I’ll come in a minute.” the nurse informs, pulling that same lever to lock the wheels, before bowing to Taehyung and leaving the spacious and well-equipped gym.

Taehyung clears his throat. “Hi, my name’s Taehyung, and I’ll be working with you during this recovery process.” he introduces himself with a polite smile, trying not to glare right back at the athlete that hasn’t relaxed the slightest bit, still boring holes into his face with a deep scowl.

Jungkook remains silent, simply raises an eyebrow.

“Right.” the doctor nods, shifting onto another foot as he grows even more uncomfortable. “We’ll be doing various exercises during our sessions… We’ll start small, with exercises to strengthen your muscles, and to get them to respond once again to your brain’s commands. That might take a while, it varies from patient to patient, and we can only hope that we’ll start seeing improvement rather quickly. Then, we’ll start using the movements that you do regain to trigger and work on other muscles. For example, when a patient starts being able to move, say, a foot, it’ll help them to work on the leg itself. It’s a process that we’ll work on together, step by step. Literally.” he smiles again. “I’m sure that my boss has already massacred you with this speech, so I won’t stretch it any further. I just need to say these things before we start.”

There’s an uncomfortably long beat of silence where they simply stare at each other, and Taehyung doesn’t know whether to speak again or to just wait, so he decides to go with the latter; his hands clasped at his front, waiting.

Then, “Are you done?” Jungkook asks.

Taehyung blinks. “I— Yes, I am.”

“Ok.” the athlete nods. “Suit yourself to sit here until you have to leave, because we’re not actually going to be doing anything.”

It takes the elder a second to process what he’s just heard, and he’s positively confused. “I’m sorry?” he asks, puzzled. Somehow, he’s not that surprised. He already knew that Jungkook would be a pain to work with, so he already knew that he wouldn’t be cooperative. He saw this whole thing coming.

“I googled. There’s little to no salvation, I’m not getting any fucking better. I know that much, and you know it, too. You guys are all fucking leeches, though, and you try to feed hope to people like me in exchange for money.” Jungkook accuses, his words ice cold. “My parents and my manager might buy into it, but I fucking won’t.”

“Mr. Jeon, I believe that—”

“I believe that I’ve made myself rather clear.” the athlete interrupts, looking down at his chair to look for the lever to unlock the wheels so that he can go. “They have to believe that we’re actually doing those exercises that you guys like to lie about, so suit yourself to stay here until they have to see you leave. I’m going to my bedroom.”

Taehyung gapes, watching as he, very uncoordinatedly, manages to work with the wheelchair to get himself to the door. The doctor can tell that it might just be the first time that he’s doing it himself, but he’s too stunned to say anything at all. He blinks when the door closes. “What the fuck…?”

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  Seriously speechless
|  Who does he think he is? Leech?! Me?! I hate him already.
|  What a fucking entitled ass douchebag. My God.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Twenty minutes go by where Taehyung just sits there, admiring the number of machines and equipment in the gym — that he won’t even try to guess the value of. However, there are only so many times that he can count the tiles, and there are only so many texts that he can use the time to reply to. He won’t accept to get paid to just sit there, nor will he allow a patient assigned to him to just give up before even attempting to do anything at all.

Tapping on his own thighs, he stands from the chair.

He roughly remembers where Jungkook’s bedroom is, they did mention it during the quick tour around the mansion, and they did say that Jungkook doesn’t like having people in his room but Taehyung is, just as he said, stubborn. He’s stubborn, and he’s not about to just accept the way that Jungkook talked to him, or the insults.

He’s tired, sleepy, and he probably won’t say anything to put the athlete in his place right on the first day, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t try again.

Taehyung knocks on the door twice, twisting the handle to push it open.

Jungkook is still on his chair, by the bed and facing the television. He couldn’t call his nurse to help him or they would know that he left the session, but he also couldn’t get on the bed by himself. He knew that if he tried, he’d end up angry and, most likely, crying by the bed.

That, if he didn’t fall while trying to climb onto the mattress.

Their eyes meet, and Taehyung knows in that very same second that he won’t get a good reaction. “What the fuck are you doing in my bedroom? Was I not fucking clear enough with you?! This room is off-limits. No one—”

“I know, they told me that. I just think that you’re not thinking this through. You’re believing something that you’ve seen on the internet instead of trusting me, your actual professional and licensed physiotherapist. I can explain the process a little better if—”

“I can’t stress enough how much I don’t fucking care about your explanations. And don’t fucking interrupt me.”

“Didn’t you just interrupt me, too?” he can see the surprise on Jungkook’s face, and he’s thankful for the distance between them given that, knowing the athlete’s reputation, a punch anywhere doesn’t sound that impossible. “I just mean that—”

“You have no permission to come here, or to wander around. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’m not appreciative of strangers in my own fucking place. Go to the gym, the kitchen, actual hell, anywhere but here.

“I do have to say, I wasn’t wandering around your house. I came straight from the gym.” Taehyung still says. “I have to do my job, Mr. Jeon. I can’t just lie to your parents and my boss about this. I’m not putting my job at risk.”

“I’ll pay you more, is that what you want?”

“Not at all. The first weeks are the most important to—”

“I’ll tell my parents to raise your payment, now you can keep this between us. Get out of my room, I won’t tell you again.” Jungkook threatens, but he himself knows just how unthreatening it must sound; it’s not like he can do anything. It’s so pathetic. He wants to get up and pick the doctor up, throw him out of his room. Instead, he’s stuck to a stupid chair. Pathetic.

God, he hates it all so much.

“Fine, ok.” the doctor seems to give up, at least for now, and Jungkook feels relieved. “I’ll go eat a sandwich while you sacrifice your own recovery. It was just lovely meeting you, Mr. Jeon.” the athlete feels his jaw slack at the doctor’s tone and words.

He blinks when the door closes. “What the fuck…?”

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  Did he just fucking talk back? I must be dreaming, this isn’t possible.
|  I’m Jeon Jungkook, no one fucking talks back. I need a new doctor.
|  But they’d find out my intentions… I can’t just hire someone new.
|  God, I want to punch him so badly.
|  I hate him already.

Chapter Text

Taehyung groans when he hears his alarm waking him up from his precious slumber, his hand blindly hitting the bedside table to turn it off. He rubs his eyes before even mustering the energy to sit up, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion when he does so. There’s a weight on his chest that he doesn’t recognize at first, but smiles as he looks down. Miyun is lying on his chest, fast asleep with little Jiwoon in her arms.

It’s still early, so he can let them sleep for a few more minutes before waking them up. He gets up slowly and carefully, unwilling to make too much noise, and leaves his bedroom by tiptoeing out of there. He can just start breakfast, and have it ready by the time that they both wake up.

He’s just grabbed the bread to toast when he hears steps approaching, so he turns around, rather surprised. Jiwoon never gets up before he truly has to. “Hey.” Miyun greets, just as he expected.

“Hey.” he greets back, facing the front again to take out the right number of bread slices for the three of them. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” she waves a dismissive hand, sitting on one of the kitchen stools with her eyes closed shut, sleepy. “How did we even end up sleeping? I told you that I’d leave soon, and then I don’t remember anything else… Are we that old?”

“We’re twenty-five.” he argues the obvious. “I left to put the pizza boxes away, and you two were snoring when I got back to my room, so I just turned off the movie and laid down to sleep. Jiwoon was between us, all comfortable.”

“He usually always asks to sleep in my bed when he sleeps over at my house…” Miyun shares. “He also asked me not to tell you that because you don’t let him sleep with you, so act like you don’t know, pretty please.”

“Hm, yeah, okay.” he nods, storing the bread again as he’s already inserted the necessary amount in the toaster. “He used to sleep with me all the time, and then he started being unable to sleep alone. That’s why I had to stop letting him stay there. I can’t let him go backwards.”

“Oh, that sounds reasonable. He told me that it’s because you’re so mean.” she admits with a grin. “He doesn’t really stay at mine that often, so, uhm... I’m sure that it won’t disrupt his sleeping habits…”

Taehyung doesn’t look back at her, and has to stifle a sigh as he looks for two mugs to fill up with coffee for them. “He can stay with you whenever you want him to, you know that. I’ll never tell you that he can’t.”

“I know, it’s just— I feel bad for asking too many times.”

“It’s your son, so you shouldn’t feel bad.” Taehyung reassures. “Besides, he likes it whenever he spends time with you, he always gets excited to go.”

Miyun smiles, fiddling with her fingers. “Maybe I should just move in with you two.” she jokes, and Taehyung knows her well enough to hear it in her voice; she’s not being serious.

“I would rather have my most annoying patient move in with me, than you.” he jokes back, but then his face falls. “Actually, I take that back. The second most annoying patient, not the first. The first moving in with me would probably end up in one of us being smothered in our sleep.”

She blinks. “Jesus. Who do you hate so much?”

“Oh, you might’ve heard about him before, not too sure… Jeon Jungkook, his name.” Taehyung frowns, handing over her mug of coffee.

“Thanks…” she takes a sip, eyes on him. “You didn’t tell me what happened to him, nor did you tell me what that first day was like. I’m curious.”

“I can’t share my patient’s details in general, but especially not his. It’s exceptionally confidential, and he doesn’t want the public to know. Yet, I suppose. Just know that it might be a career-ending injury if he doesn’t swallow his big fucking ego and accept my help.” Taehyung shares with a roll of the eyes. “I already broke the code by venting about it to Yoongi.”

“Wow. I’m the literal mother of your son, and yet you tell him and not me? How is that fair?” she tries, but he only raises an eyebrow. “Fine, alright, that’s fair. What do you mean career-ending, though? He’s, like, twenty-three or something, he’s at his peak. Is it his hands?”

“I can’t say.”

“Lame.” Miyun complains with a pout. “How is he in person? Is he as hot and irresistible as the television and the pictures make him out to be?” she asks with a little smirk. “Is he mouth-watering-hot?”

“He looked very… normal.” Taehyung tilts his head.

Miyun blinks. “Normal? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know what I was expecting, but he looked like a person, not a celebrity. I can’t say if he looks as good as the pictures, as I thankfully have a life and don’t look at his pictures all day.” he teases, only to hiss when she punches his arm, albeit lightly. “Abuse. This is actual abuse.”

“He’s single, and I’m single. You better use your time with him to become best friends so that you can introduce us eventually. Between you and him, I’m not sure of who’s more attractive, and I’ve heard that attractive people often get along well. That means that you’ll be best friends.”

Taehyung snorts “Just download Tinder, because you’re not getting anywhere waiting for that. I’d never be his friend, let alone a best friend.”

“Why do you hate him? Genuinely, give me a reason.”

“I don’t know. I don’t like his face.” she gives him a look. “You can tell that he’s arrogant just from looking at him, and he proved it as soon as he opened his damn mouth. I don’t have patience for adult-children, or for disrespect. Besides, fighting and violence are something that I really do despise, and that’s now he makes a living. He’s a terrible role model for Jiwoon.”

“Well, I don’t think that he’d care for our little Jiwoon or any kid in general that looks up to him. He hates kids.” Miyun points.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Does he? How the fuck do you even know that, my God, is it a known fact? Is it something that people know?”

“I watch his interviews sometimes.” she shrugs. “I remember this one interview where he got asked about having a girlfriend and kids in the future, and he said that he’d rather die than have a kid. It made the news.”

“Amazing news, really, truly worthy of making articles.”

“You’re a hater.”

“I just don't get it. We have a lot of athletes, why is he the one that everyone has fallen head over heels for?”

“He’s hot as hell, for one. Second, he’s not just an athlete, he models, and he even acted once… and he’s kind of mysterious, no one knows much about him. You know how people love a mysterious guy with tattoos.”

“You’re a lost cause.” Taehyung deems, taking another sip from his coffee. “I’ll go wake Jiwoon up, keep an eye on the bread, please.” he requests, already walking away. “I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, of course.” Miyun nods. “I’ll get his juice ready.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  That guy is coming over again…
|  I don’t want him anywhere near me. Fuck.
|  I couldn’t stop thinking about how he really had the nerve to talk back to me… if he pisses me off today, I might just punch him in the fucking throat
|  “Jungkook omg that would kill him” okay and
|  The only reason why I haven’t fired him already is because he didn’t tell my parents anything… Which might mean that he won’t. I can’t risk picking a new doctor that could just tell them as soon as I reveal that I don’t want to do those shitty exercises. That’s the only reason why he’s still employed.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung sighs to himself, getting out of the car once he parks it in the right garage, and he doesn’t fail to notice how there aren’t as many vehicles there as the other time that he went over. He guesses that the manager, and maybe his parents, won’t be there today.

He gets his bag from the back seat, and locks the car. He’s added all of the codes to the doors to the notes application on his phone, so he rushes to check the combination of this one. They’re all variations of the same, only the last two numbers change, but it’ll still take him a while to memorize all of them.

“Hi, Mr. Kim.” a woman in maid’s clothing greets him by the door, bowing to him. “Have you come for another physiotherapy session?” she asks.

“Yes, indeed, ma’am.” he nods, bowing back. He feels bad for lying, given that it’s not as true as it should be. He is there for that, but he’s not actually going to be doing his job. He could barely fall asleep the past two nights, thinking about how he silently agreed to let a patient’s condition deteriorate just because he was told to.

There’s nothing much that he can do, he can’t physically force a patient to exercise, but this has never happened to him. He’s never dealt with a patient that truly does not want to do anything. Stubborn patients, yes, some very difficult to deal with, but never someone who didn’t want anything to do with therapy. No one pays for a physiotherapist without wanting to. On the other hand, Jungkook isn’t the one paying for his services, and he’s technically allowed to refuse treatment. Taehyung can’t force him to cooperate.

But it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right to accept the insane amount of money to just sit around counting tiles and eating (delicious) sandwiches with the cook — the cook that wasn’t even surprised to find that Jungkook's not engaging with the exercises, but agreed to keep the secret until Taehyung finds a way through the man. He hopes that it won’t take too long.

“Would you like me to walk you to the gym?” the woman offers.

“Oh, I’ll be fine, but thank you.” he bows, turning around to walk to the gym, his steps confident despite wanting to run in the opposite direction.

The lights are off when he gets there, so he flicks them on, first and foremost, eyes taking in all of the machines and equipment again. Jungkook’s team has spent so much money preparing the house for their sessions, and he doesn’t even want to try. It’s more than frustrating.

Taehyung puts his bag down, arms crossed as he waits for the athlete to come join him once again. For all that he knows, Jungkook might be in a better mood today, might be nicer, or might even want to cooperate.

He can hear the sound of steps and the familiar noise of the wheels on the floor, so he fixes his position to look less rigid. “Good morning.” the nurse greets with a big smile that Taehyung mirrors, both bowing to each other.

“Good morning.” he says back, smile slowly but surely disappearing as soon as his eyes meet Jungkook’s. He looks even less approachable than he did the first time, which shouldn’t be much of a surprise given how their first meeting ended up like. Jungkook already looks angry this time around.

"I’ll leave you two alone, excuse me…” she bows once again, locking Jungkook's wheelchair before leaving the room, and they both remain silent until the doors close behind her. Jungkook’s glare doesn’t waver.

“You seem to be in a really good mood.” Taehyung says, and he regrets it right away — sometimes he just can’t help saying exactly what he thinks and believes. He’s very honest, which may come off as rude sometimes.

“You don’t get paid to make observations.”

“I also don’t get paid to sit around.” again, honesty.

“I don’t fucking care. Go eat another sandwich, if you’d like. Don’t you dare even approach my bedroom door again.” Jungkook warns, pulling the small lever to unlock his wheels again so that he can leave, and the doctor rolls his eyes once he’s faced with his back.

“Mr. Jeon, the first six months are the most important ones when it comes to your recovery. The first weeks are crucial. Why are you willingly doing this to yourself?” he asks before Jungkook can leave the room, and he closes his mouth when the wheelchair stops, something that he didn’t really expect.

“Leave me alone.” Jungkook’s tone is stone cold, and he sighs, giving up. Again, he can’t force a patient to exercise and, if he goes against Jungkook’s wishes, he might just get sued, for all that he knows.

He gets his bag from the floor, turns off the lights, before finding the kitchen once again. The lady smiles at him. “I see that you’re back.” she comments. “Did he refuse to work out today? Sit, I’ll fix you something.”

“Thank you…” he puckers his lips. “He’s very, very stubborn. I don’t know whether this is a matter of pride or not, but he’s throwing his chances of walking again out of the window just because he doesn’t want to accept my help.” Taehyung sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how you guys manage to work with him, he’s impossibly rude.”

“He’s nice.” the lady shrugs, neatly spreading mayonnaise on one slice of bread to make him a sandwich. “Whenever we’re sick or need a day off, he doesn’t take the day from our monthly wage, and he’s very accepting and understanding when we need to leave early or come in late… He’s a nice boss, he just doesn't talk much to us, and we’re glad, because he’s intimidating. I’m good here, and he’s good over there.”

“I see a scared boy, not an intimidating man.”

“You’re looking at him with other eyes.” she notes. “I’ve known him since he bought his first house when he was nineteen, and only then starting to build his boxing career. I feel for him deeply. This situation is horrible, and he didn’t deserve the tragedy that happened to him.”

“With that, I agree. Even if he’s rude, he obviously did not deserve what happened to him.” Taehyung nods. “I’m giving him the means and the help to try to fix his problem, and he might still have a career ahead of him. Maybe in a few years, but still. He’s jeopardizing his own recovery.”

“He might really be scared, as you said…”

Taehyung groans. “This is giving me a headache.”

iMESSAGE

|  Bestie
|  Taehyung, mind explaining why the fuck did you just post a picture of a sandwich when you should be stretching Korea’s legs?!

Me  |
I would be if he allowed me to.  |

|  Bestie
|  Come again?

Me  |
You have to promise me not to tell anyone about this  |
I’d lose my job and he’d probably fucking kill me or something  |
Swear on everything.  |

|  Bestie
|  You know that I’d never share anything.

Me  |
He’s refusing treatment  |
He said that he’s googled and that he KNOWS that it won’t do anything  |
He told me to fuck off, and he doesn’t even want to try  |
He also told me to keep my mouth shut so…  |
I’m eating a sandwich, which is what I did the first time that I came over  |
Productive, huh?  |

|  Bestie
|  Are you serious? I thought that he’d be so eager to do everything… I’m confused and surprised. It’s his career, and he’s telling you to just sit around and lie?

Me  |
Yep. He’s probably terrified  |
He’s putting up a front to be scary or whatever, but I see right through him  |
He’s scared of this not working out, so he’d rather not even fucking try  |
Probably so that he’s not faced with failure and disappointment  |

|  Bestie
|  I know you well enough to know that you won’t give up…

Me  |
I can’t. I’m going to continue trying to get through to him…  |

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“I’ll be right back.” Taehyung looks up, watching as the lady finishes putting everything neatly in a tray — a big bowl with what he identifies as a salad, a glass filled with water, and a protein bar. “You can stay here.”

“Is that for him?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s his lunch.” she nods.

“Just a salad…?”

“I’ve added pieces of chicken, and it’s a very complete salad. Mr. Jeon takes his diet very seriously… He’s the only person that I know that doesn’t even have a cheat day. I’ve worked with him for years, and he’s never once eaten something as simple as a burger.”

Taehyung stands up from the stool. “Can I take it to him instead of you?”

“Uhm…” she hesitates, giving it a thought. “Okay, you can. I have to start the soup for his dinner, so I’d be thankful if you could take this to him.”

“I’ll be right back.” Taehyung smiles, picking up the tray and making his way out of the kitchen. He most certainly does not want to be acting like Jungkook’s maid, he doesn’t want to serve him in any way other than what he’s supposed to do for work, but this might help.

He balances the tray with just one hand so that he can knock on the door, but doesn’t wait for confirmation to open it. Jungkook looks away from the television, barely managing to hide his surprise upon seeing him.

“I’m not paying you more for this.” he says

“You don’t always have to be rude. Since you don’t want to do your exercises and stretches, I wasn’t doing anything. Your cook is busy with other things, and I didn’t mind bringing you your lunch.” Taehyung explains, patience wearing thin as he approaches the bed.

Jungkook scoots up on the bed, using his upper-body strength to do so, and Taehyung wants to offer help, but holds back when he knows that he won’t get anything other than a clear ‘no’, and maybe even an insult or a yell. He doesn’t like watching his patients struggle, he always does whatever he can to help. That only makes him hate this situation even more.

The athlete reaches for the tray, taking it from his hands without a word, and places it on his lap. “You can leave my bedroom now. I’ve told you that this is off-limits, I don’t want anyone here.” Jungkook demands as he picks up the fork to start eating.

Taehyung scoffs. “A simple ‘thank you’ won’t kill you.”

“Apparently, doing what you’re told will kill you.”

“No, it won’t. Watching my patients give up on themselves does kill me on the inside, though, and that’s why I, for some reason, can’t just walk away and eat a fucking sandwich while you lie here, throwing your future away just because you’re stubborn.”

“There is no goddamn future for me, how come you don’t fucking understand that much?!” Jungkook raises his voice, looking up at him. “Stop thinking that you have the right to even talk to me, as it is, let alone like this.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” Taehyung states, and he can see a hint of surprise behind Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m here to do my job, and my job is to help you, not to sit in your kitchen letting you give up on recovery.”

“Get out of my room.”

“You can’t even put your pride aside to save yourself?”

Jungkook bites down on his teeth, jaw becoming even more defined as he tries to keep his cool. “I may be a fucking invalid now, but I can still beat the fuck out of you. Get out, now.” he doesn’t yell, but it has the same effect; his words low, almost growled out. He’s angry.

“Don’t use that word.” Taehyung reprimands. “And no, you can’t, but I’ll let you believe that, given that your ginormous ego seems to be the only thing that you care about.” he says, turning on his heels to leave.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!”

He stops. “Someone who’s been hired solely to help you. Someone with a doctorate in physiotherapy and actually knows how this works instead of believing stuff written on Google.” he faces him again. “Whether it’s impossible for you to accept or not, I’m not fond of you, and I don’t care that you’re a celebrity. You’re a patient, and I just want to help you get better. I’m not here for the money or anything else. I just want to do my job, which is to get you to do your stretches and your exercises so that you can walk again.”

Jungkook closes his eyes. “I can’t fucking walk again.”

“You could, if you cooperated.”

“Just get out. Get out, now, before I call security.”

Taehyung sighs. “I’ll see you in two days, Mr. Jeon.”

The athlete watches as he gets out of his bedroom, closing the door behind himself, and he’s never felt like punching someone this badly when outside of the boxing ring. God, he hates him and that attitude of his. His lunch doesn't even look appetizing anymore. He’s too angry to eat.

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  I’m the nicest person ever with my patients, but then he opens his mouth and I just physically can’t be nice to him. He’s so annoying and entitled and rude

|  ──  🖤 (@miypk95)
|  ──  My bet is on 5 sessions before you get punched in the face

|  ────  0% patience left 🔒 (@uncleyoongi)
|  ────  I bet 4

|  ──────  Joon (@kim_nj_94)
|  ──────  Try 3

|  ────────  Jin . (@seokjinijkoes)
|  ────────  I don’t know how it didn’t happen at 1

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  If I could’ve made my way out of the door I would’ve punched him in the face for good. He’s so fucking annoying. I need to find a way to completely avoid him.

Chapter Text

Taehyung looks up when someone sits in front of him, and smiles as he sees his best friend. “I’m sorry, I got stuck in traffic.” Yoongi apologizes, removing his jacket. “I see that you’ve ordered mine already.”

“You always get the same, so, yeah.” he gestures to the breakfast waiting on the table. “Thanks for coming, I don’t like having breakfast by myself.”

“Oh, worry not… I enjoy it when people pay for my food, I’d never say no.” Yoongi jokes, taking a sip from his coffee. “Where’s the little one?”

“Jiwoon slept at Miyun’s tonight.” Taehyung shrugs. “She’s trying to spend more time with him, her last job stole a bit of their time together…” he explains. “He’s such a good kid, but he still has a bit of trouble understanding why his friends in school have their parents living together and he doesn’t. He only started asking these things after joining this new school, and it’s so awkward, I never know what to tell him, I’ve tried every explanation.”

“I don’t think that he’s ready for the real one…”

“I don’t think that I’ll ever tell him. Miyun doesn’t want to tell him, either, so I think that it’s best that he never finds out.” Taehyung sighs.

“It might just be the best thing to do.” Yoongi agrees. “I also want to know how your other kid is doing… If you don’t mind sharing, and such.”

Taehyung tilts his head. “My other kid?”

“Jungkook.”

“I will make you eat my whole entire fist, I swear.” Yoongi snorts, soon turning into a proper laugh. “Let’s start by the fact that I’d rather pass away right here, right now, than have ‘another kid’, but that’s not even the point that angers me — I shouldn’t have to deal with a twenty-what year old’s tantrums.”

“So… It’s not getting any better, is it?” Yoongi asks with a few giggles still spilling from his lips. “Any progress at all with him?”

“I’ve gone there four— no, five times, and he doesn’t even want to hear my voice. It pisses me off in ways that I can’t even begin to explain. Yoongi, you should see the equipment that they had installed in his gym and one of his pools just to help him through this shit. He has the resources that most patients can only wish to have, and he’s not— He’s wasting my time.”

“As your best friend, this is funny. As his… fan, this is really upsetting and concerning… And as a psychologist, it’s even more concerning. Most patients need a lot of help after these accidents that leave them in such situations. He needs to sit d— I mean, he should hire a therapist or something.”

Taehyung presses his lips together in a thin line, silent, but ends up sighing. “I know that, and I feel a lot for him, sometimes his eyes are red and I think that he cries by himself in his room… Either that or he smokes something. I don’t know him to say whether he does.”

“I’d believe the second option faster than the first.”

“He’s a fucking person, Yoongi, you guys need to stop idolizing his every breath. It’s your fault that he’s as rude and entitled as he is, you’ve managed to make his head bigger than the whole goddamn Earth itself.” Taehyung complains with a frown that he doesn’t even notice growing on his face. “He’s an insult to my profession, and I mean this.”

“How about you tell him what you’re telling me? I have patients that only need a push to start seeing and understanding their problems and flaws. I doubt that he has anyone that calls him out on shit without hesitation. Sit him down and tell— Fuck this damn expression, I swear that it’s not on purpose.”

“Don’t make me laugh, that’s not funny.” Taehyung puckers his lips. “I keep studying his condition during the time that I have to sit there eating in the kitchen, and the more I read, the more frustrated I get. It’s a tough situation, but I’ve seen so much worse ending up with a significant improvement. He most likely will walk again if he swallows his ego for, like, an hour a day. I can’t, for the life of me, understand why it’s so hard for him.”

“Do you think that he’d be able to fight again?”

“Oh, I can’t know that. Everyone’s body is different, and the amount of work that he puts into it will determine his recovery… and, so far, that work is less than zero. If he keeps this up, no, he won’t fight or walk again.”

“Tell him that.” Yoongi shrugs.

“Again?”

“Yeah.” he nods. “Tell him everything that you’ve just told me now. He can only ignore you so many times. You can be persuasive enough, I believe in you.” Taehyung rubs his eyes, already tired of the whole situation. “Why’d they pick you… This is so fucking entertaining, God.”

“They picked me because I’m really good with patients, especially the ones that don’t want to be there at the start. The thing is, Jungkook has a talent for pissing me off without even having to do anything.”

“You’re just a hater.” his best friend laughs. “I understand you… kind of. There’s that one actor that makes me mad just by looking at his face, and I’ve never even heard his voice… and that one singer that I’d swear that he’s a prick but I’ve only heard a song by him.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Thank you so much for validating my distaste towards him. I do have to say that it has only intensified since I met him, and I don’t think that it’ll ever go away.” he shrugs.

“This keeps getting better, I’m telling you.”

“I can’t believe that you like my misfortune.”

“Oh, shut up. You get to see the nation’s crush. The world’s crush, to be honest… Ever since he acted that one time, everyone— Ok, I’m digressing, back to the point. You get to see him, and I’d even say that it’s an honor to be threatened by him. I’d be living my best life if he threatened to punch me. Also, you get to eat rich people’s food, which is also good.”

“I get to eat sandwiches. He doesn’t have food in his house, he only has rabbit food. Every lunch that I’ve seen him eat so far has been rabbit food. His cook told me that he’s never eaten a fucking burger, how insane is that? He’s crazy, absolutely fucking crazy. It just keeps being proven.”

“Buy him a burger, maybe he’ll be persuaded.”

“I’m not spending my money on him.”

“Hm, well, then good luck for today.”

Taehyung groans. “I’ll need it.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook perks up when he hears his phone pinging with a notification, and he grabs it to check the sender. He quickly pushes himself up to properly read it once he sees a threat from his best friend: Jimin stating that if he doesn’t receive an immediate answer, he’ll be showing up, and Jungkook can’t have that happening, so he just texts an order for him not to come.

His thumb scrolls through their chat, so many unanswered texts in his friend’s side of the conversation that he doesn’t even get to finish going through before a new text comes in. Jimin is upset, it seems.

Jungkook sighs, typing a poor apology for ignoring him for so long, and even adds that he just doesn’t want to see anyone so that Jimin doesn’t think that it’s something personal. Unfortunately, his best friend is too much of a good person, so he encourages him to just open up and say what’s going on.

Jungkook doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to talk.

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Just give me some time to get my head straight.  |
But I don’t want to text, call or see anyone right now.  |
For that reason, I’ll just go back to what I was doing before you texted.  |
Don’t worry about me, and don’t be offended that I’m not replying.  |
I just really want to be alone. Goodbye… for now.  |
I watched your runway show the other day, by the way.  |
You were amazing, as per usual  |

|  Smol
|  You did…?
|  Kook? Did you actually just leave?
|  Gosh, okay. I’ll respect this clear boundary that you’re setting, but please don’t disappear completely. Text me once a day, I need to know that you’re ok… And just know that whatever it is that you’re going through, Yug and I are here for everything. Come back whenever you’re ready, we love you.

TWITTER

|  Jiminie 🔒 (@min_1129390019)
|  He’s hard as fuck to talk to… But there’s something going on…

|  ── I defeated jk once 🔒 (@ventingorsmth)
|  ── He texted me just now, telling me not to worry about him and that he watched my fight the other day… and that he needs some time by himself.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

By the time that he parks his car in one of Jungkook’s garages, Taehyung has already gone over his speech at least twenty times. He knows himself well enough to know that, once he gets in there, he won’t say anything that he has prepared, but it’s still good to plan it.

He’ll be as nice and gentle as he can, and that’s exactly the speech that he has planned for today. Maybe a softer approach is the key to success.

He grabs his bag from the back seat, hoping that he’ll get to use it this time instead of leaving it sitting on the kitchen floor, before locking the vehicle.

Taehyung has already memorized some of the door codes, so he doesn’t have to get his phone out to check it and, for a second, he imagines what it must be like to get home from work to such a big and modern house.

He’s happy with his apartment, it took him years of saving up to be able to purchase it less than a year ago, but a mansion as enormous and fresh as this one must be a great place to come to after a tiring day. Jiwoon would have a lot of space; such a massive backyard would be great for Yeontan to run… and maybe even have another dog. Perhaps one day he’ll save up enough for a big house, rather than an apartment. A man can dream.

He makes sure that the door is closed before moving to the gym, and sighs as he spots a lady cleaning up the machines with a duster. “Hey, there.”

“Oh, hi.” she smiles back at him, already growing familiar with his presence around the house. “I’m just cleaning up before Mr. Jeon comes here for his session. Since he can’t use these big machines, they get dusty…” she explains, still focused on her work.

“He can still use all them with the proper help, he simply chooses not to use any of them.” Taehyung shakes his head, arms crossed as he waits. If Jungkook wanted to still work out his upper body, he could easily hire someone to help him with it, but it’s not surprising that he doesn’t.

Taehyung can see that the lady goes to speak but stops when the door opens, revealing Jungkook and his nurse, pushing his wheelchair as usual. “Hi, good morning.” she greets with a kind smile, coming to a stop.

“Hey.” Taehyung smiles back as she locks the wheels.

“I’ll leave you two, have a good session.” she goes to tap Jungkook’s shoulder, but stops at the last second, simply turning around to leave.

“Y—”

“Miss, could you leave?” Jungkook interrupts, not breaking eye contact, and Taehyung closes his mouth once again, watching as his maid gathers her products and leaves in a rush, with a single apology. Taehyung has to hold back from scolding him over the way that he’s just talked to the lady that, albeit politely, was still rude to his ears.

“Let me just guess.” he says instead, before the younger man can beat him to it. “I can go and ‘suit myself’?”

Jungkook’s eyes are cold when they meet his again, and Taehyung has never seen him any different. “Aw, you’re starting to get it, I’m so proud.” his tone is dripping with sarcasm, but he doesn’t even wait for an answer before unlocking his wheels to leave the room.

“You know that some people can only dream about being able to get the kind of treatment that you’re able to get, right?” Taehyung speaks, stepping closer to keep a hand on the door so that the younger man can’t open it. “You have everything here, in the comfort of your own house— You literally have me wasting my time here at your full disposal. I could be using this time to help people who actually want to get better, but you’re making me stay here, wasting it with you, of all people.” the last few words come out before he can stop them, but he schools his expression to stay the same, impassive, even when he sees Jungkook’s turning into one of anger. Well, more anger.

“Do you think that I fucking want you here?” is what he asks.

“I don’t care whether you want me here or not. Your parents are paying me to come here to help you, and you’re too much of a coward to tell them what you’re actually doing. Sitting in your damn bed as I waste my time in the kitchen. If you don’t want my help, then at least—”

“If I pay you not to talk, will you shut the fuck up?”

Taehyung scoffs. “No.”

“And why not?” Jungkook grits out, looking up at him with anger visible in his eyes. He can’t believe that he’s been called a coward. He’s everything but.

“Because I know why you’re behaving like this. You’re scared of it not working out, that’s why you don’t even want to try. Well, let me tell you that it definitely won’t work unless you give it a go. You’re scared.”

“Do you know who I am? I’m not scared of anything.”

Taehyung chuckles, and that might just be the most aggravating thing that he’s done, in Jungkook’s eyes. “I can see it, no need to lie. You’re terrified, and that’s normal, there’s no shame in being scared. The sooner that you admit it to yourself, the easier it will be for you to process it, and maybe you’ll realize that you should be using this time to focus on your recovery.”

Jungkook eyes the other door, seeing his escape. “You can just fuck off, I’m tired of your voice.” he insults as he pushes himself away from there, heading to the other door. Taehyung lets him, trying not to smile at the athlete’s tone; he can tell that his words get to him.

“Even the most fearless people need help sometimes.”

“The only thing that I need is for you to leave me alone.”

Taehyung’s eyes remain on the now closed door, and he rubs his eyes. That did not go as planned, and he was not as nice and gentle as he intended to be. It’s not his fault — Jungkook is aggravating. The only positive to get out of the conversation was the visible shift in Jungkook’s demeanor, which might either mean that Taehyung’s words are starting to get to him, or that he’ll be fired any day now. The second option seems more plausible.

Taehyung would very much like to be fired so that he can help other people, but the thought that the next doctor that gets assigned to Jungkook might just give up and gladly accept the sandwiches leaves him restless. He takes his job too seriously for that. He’ll just have to keep slapping Jungkook with reality until the athlete has enough and gives in… or fires him.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung puts his phone down when he loses the last chance in a mobile game that he downloaded solely to pass the time when he’s over at Jungkook’s house, and eyes the woman that is still, very diligently, making the new salad for the athlete’s lunch. “Can I ask you something?” he starts; she nods. “Why is he so protective of his bedroom? He throws a fit whenever I go there.”

The woman shrugs. “We don’t know, either. He doesn’t let us in there, not even to clean… he does all of that by himself. We can walk in to leave his clean laundry and such, but we leave right away. He’s the one putting his clothes in place, we’ve never even seen the inside of his walk-in closet. When he has friends and family over, they always stay in another room, he’s never shared the bed or anything. He doesn’t like having people in his room.”

“He’s so weird.” Taehyung mumbles.

She laughs. “Maybe, yeah, a little. The bedroom thing is a little weird, especially since he gets genuinely angry, not just upset. He once fired a maid just because she’d still go in his room to clean.”

“What does he do when he brings over… women?”

“Hm? Oh, he doesn’t.” she shakes her head with a shrug. “He’s never brought anyone over for those fun activities, and I’ve worked for him for years now. I suppose that he’s the one going over, I don’t know, we don’t ask.”

“I’d be concerned if he shared that with his employees, too.”

“I must agree.” Taehyung just hums, grabbing his phone again. Maybe he can find another game. “How did he react to you taking him his lunch?” she asks with audible curiosity, and he laughs at his own luck. Or lack thereof.

“Oh, he was lovely, as usual.”

The woman laughs, unable to hold it in. “I’m sorry, but this is quite funny… Please, don’t be upset that I’m laughing, it’s just funny.”

“It’s not. To me, it’s not funny at all. It’s extremely frustrating for me to be here. I’ve had to refuse certain treatments to patients that couldn’t afford them, and it kills me a little every time… How am I meant to deal with his entitlement and— Gosh, he has everything. He can have whatever he wants and, as a professional, this pisses me off in levels that you can’t even begin to imagine. He’s lucky enough to be able to just pay me to sit around, while most patients could only wish to have me go over to their house. This angers me.”

“Looking at it from that perspective, I can see why you seem so bothered by him whenever you come here after chatting for less than five minutes…”

“I also just don’t like him. His face.”

She halts. “His… face?”

“Yeah. We all have those celebrities that we dislike for no specific reason, and he’s one of mine. Besides, I hate violence and everything that has to do with inflicting pain onto others, and that is his literal job.”

“Oh, heavens. Why’d you accept to treat him?”

“I was quite forced into this, to be honest with you. I was assigned to him because I have the highest patient satisfaction rate out of my colleagues, and since Jungkook’s a celebrity, they wanted to pick someone that would make him comfortable and such, to avoid him not liking the treatment and blaming it on the hospital. Quite funny, I’d say, given that I’m the last person that they should’ve chosen for this.”

“You could’ve refused it, still…”

“I put my job before my likes and dislikes. I want to help him, even if he pisses me off.” he sighs. “I’d rather have him insulting me as we do the exercises, than sit here. Your company is lovely, but you know what I mean by this… Don’t take any offense.”

“Oh, none taken, really.” she places the bowl on the large kitchen island, facing him. “I just ask you to, please, not give up on him. He’s very dear to me, as I’ve said, I’ve been working for him for quite some time now, and I beg you not to give up on trying… At least for a little while longer.”

Taehyung sighs. “I’m not going to give up.”

“Thank you.” she smiles. “Do you want to take this?”

He eyes the bowl for a second. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Jungkook worries at his lip as he continues scrolling through Twitter after searching his name, and each post that he reads and sees bothers him more than the previous one. Everyone seems to be trying to guess what happened to him, confused as to why he stepped down before the final fight.

His team posted something brief, said that something came up — He didn’t want to share what actually happened, and they respected his wishes.

The public doesn’t seem to be able to do the same. They ask, they theorize, and they like to come up with things based on their own thoughts and beliefs, without having proof of anything at all. It’s upsetting, and he’s a second away from getting himself involved in yet another scandal. He’d love to reply to some of the posts and tell them to shut it, mind their own business.

He doesn’t want the attention, though. Not now. Putting the phone away, he sighs, a hand rubbing his watering eyes. He doesn’t want to cry; he’s been crying way too often, and Jeon Jungkook doesn’t cry.

He feels like the biggest loser.

There’s a knock on his door, and he’s already given up on hoping that his cook will be the one bringing him his lunch, so he hurries to wipe his eyes as well as possible, and clears his throat. “Come in.” he says.

Just as he thought, his assigned physiotherapist is the one walking in with a bowl and a glass of water balanced with just one hand as he uses the other to skillfully close the door behind himself.

That’s already a bad sign: he doesn't intend on leaving right away.

Taehyung doesn’t fail to notice the way that the younger man tries his best to avoid eye contact and, judging by the redness of his eyes, that’s what he’s trying to cover up. Jungkook always makes sure to look at him straight on, makes sure to show just how angry and cold his stare can be, so this is unusual.

He walks closed, handing over the bowl and placing the glass of water on the nightstand. Jungkook just hums, already using his fork to stir the salad.

“Can l ask you something?” Taehyung starts.

“No.” Jungkook quickly denies.

“I’ll ask anyway.” the athlete can feel one of his eyes twitching. “Have you considered hiring a therapist to help you through this trauma? It’s a re—”

“I’m not traumatized. I don’t need a therapist.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, fed up. “Why did I even think that it’d be a good idea to try to have a normal conversation with you…” he drags, already walking to the door. “Please, think about what I told you earlier.”

“I’d rather not.” Jungkook still says, taking a piece of chicken to his mouth, eyes on the bowl so to avoid him. “Leave now.”

“Jungkook—”

“Don’t call me by my name.”

“Jungkook, if you’re not going to use the vast resources that you have, then please free me from this situation so that I can help someone else instead of sitting around. You’re insanely lucky to be able to afford all of this, but most people aren’t. Please, find some humanity in yourself and come clean with your parents, find someone else to pay to sit in your kitchen. I could and I’d rather be helping someone else right now.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but closes it again when the elder just walks out and closes the door. He’s left staring at it, words caught in his throat, and he’s rather thankful that he doesn’t actually have to answer it, because he has no idea of what he’d say. What could he possibly say to that?

He knows that he’s lucky to be able to afford the best of the best, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge why he needs such resources, why he needs the doctor to be there. He doesn’t want to accept the condition that he’s been left in, and it’ll be too real if he accepts it.

He doesn’t want to take someone’s place, someone’s chances of recovery. He just doesn’t want to be someone who has to recover from something. He doesn’t want to keep Taehyung in his kitchen, for multiple reasons. One, he doesn’t like the man. Two, the man clearly doesn’t like him.

Third, he knows that he could be helping someone else instead of being there, but he doesn’t want to risk anything by asking his parents to hire someone else. The next person might just snitch on him, and tell the truth.

The salad doesn’t look appealing anymore, so he puts it away and covers himself with the comforting sheets. He just wants to disappear.

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  Can he leave my fucking head
|  I want to sleep but whenever I close my eyes, his words replay in the back of my mind and I can’t push them away no matter how hard I try to
|  I don’t want to hear him, I don’t want his advice, I don’t want to see him
|  Why is it so hard for him to just leave me the fuck alone
|  Also. “Jungkook”? Fuck no
|  I hate him so goddamn much

Chapter Text

Jungkook looks away from the television prompted on the wide wall in front of him — it wasn’t there before, he’s never been a fan of having a television in his bedroom, but he made sure to have one installed after what happened. He’d go insane there if he didn’t have a source of entertainment.

There was a knock on the door, and it’s too early to be his nurse coming to get him for yet another torturous interaction between him and the man who’s said to be there to help him, so he’s not sure of who’s on the other side.

“Can I? Are you up?” his eyebrows shoot up, surprised, upon hearing his manager’s voice. Now, that’s unexpected. Hoseok usually calls before deciding to show up, always asks whether he can or can’t visit.

“Come.” he allows, despite wanting to be by himself. Hoseok could have news on things regarding his career, and he can’t just not hear them. He’s been dying to know about what his team thinks happened, because no one knows the truth except for Hoseok, his parents, and those that work in his house.

The door opens, and Hoseok’s dressed in one of the most comfortable outfits that he’s ever seen the man wear. “Hey, Kook.” he greets, closing the door behind himself before making his way to the bed. “So… How are you doing? How are you holding up…?”

“How do you want me to answer that question? With honesty, or with something that won’t make this too awkward and will allow you to feel a little better and more peaceful?” Jungkook doesn’t hold back on the sarcasm.

“Kook, c’mon.” Hoseok sighs. “You don’t have to make it harder for everyone, including yourself. No one knows how to deal with this shitty situation… We don’t know what to say or what to do to make this better…”

“Poor you, huh? It must be really hard.”

Hoseok sighs at that, almost defeated. “You know that I didn’t mean it like that. It’s hard not to say the wrong thing, but we all want to help you, but our hands are tied. You’re also not the easiest person to talk to, especially when you’re angry or upset… I don’t want to invalidate your reactions, because I have no idea of how this all feels, but— but please, don’t—”

“I don’t want to hear more about this.” Jungkook interrupts. “Was that all that you came here for? To know how I'm holding up? If that’s so, then know that I’m amazing, I couldn’t be doing better, and now you may go. Thank you for checking in.” he gestures to the door, eyes shifting to the television.

“This is what I’m talking about, Kook.” his manager rubs his eyes, visibly tired of the whole situation. “Your parents tell me about your reactions whenever you talk to them, be it through the phone or when they visit… and how you’re, somehow, almost always asleep when they come over. I know you well enough to know that you’re avoiding them, but I can’t understand why.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything at all. You’re my manager, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Jungkook’s words are cold, and he can see how they hurt the other; he can’t make himself care. Not when he’s the one in such a situation.

They don’t understand. They can’t.

“Oh, really? I thought that I was your friend.”

“Our relationship is strictly professional.” he continues avoiding eye contact, focused on the screen instead; it’s far easier to look at it.

“I don’t believe that.” Hoseok smiles, sitting down on the bed. “How have your sessions been? Any progress yet?” he asks, only to be met with silence. He rolls his eyes, pressing the red button on the remote to turn off the television; it works, makes the athlete look at him again. “How are the sessions with Mr. Kim? Have they been working out well?”

“They’re… normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yes. They’re what they’re supposed to be.” lying was never his forte, so he makes sure not to elaborate too much, otherwise he will get caught in his lies, and he’s not looking forward to that. Hoseok would, without a shadow of a doubt, tell on him to his parents.

“Okay… Well, uhm, what do you do during them?”

Shit. “I just— lie there.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “You lie there?”

“Yep.” fuck. “He said that the first stage is to… like, work on stretches and massages…” he tries to remember the words said to him, and thanks his decent memory for getting him through it. “I don’t have to do anything, yeah, he does it all. I just lie there and do nothing for now…”

“Oh, alright, I get it. Mr. Kim is really nice, isn’t he?”

Jungkook feels his left eye twitching. “Sorry?”

“He’s nice. We’ve only talked two or three times, I rarely see him when he comes over… He seems really nice, though, and he’s very polite. He’s very committed to your recovery, that much I know.” Hoseok assures.

Saying that his assigned doctor is nice might just be the joke of the century. Either Hoseok is dumb and can’t see when someone’s a terrible person, or his doctor is nice to everyone but him. Maybe he truly just hates him… Which is offensive. It goes both ways, but still.

“I suppose he is, yes.” Jungkook lies with a forced little smile. “He’s very… nice and polite.” he adds, despite wanting to finally be able to complain someone’s ears off about how rude and entitled his doctor is, how disrespectful and hurtful to his ego his words can be. He could spend a good full hour just complaining about the man.

“Oh, I’m happy to hear this. I’m sure that recovery is easier and faster when you can work well with the therapist… I'm relieved.” Hoseok admits with a grin, a hand on his chest. “You can be really hard to work with when you don’t want to cooperate, so I was afraid that—”

“That’s bullshit.” Jungkook tsks. “I’m not hard to work with, I just don’t like people who cross limits or are useless or incompetent. It’s not that hard.”

“Thank you for proving my words right.” Hoseok smiles.

“Fuck off, will you.” his manager laughs. “Will you be staying much longer? The doctor will be here in an hour or so for another session… So, like, we need our privacy and all.” he asks. If his manager was to stay, he’d surely find out the truth, and he’d like to avoid that at all costs.

“Oh, no, I’ll leave before he arrives.” thank God. “Now, make space for me, I’ll watch whatever you were watching.” he climbs onto the empty space on the bed, and Jungkook’s whole body tenses. He doesn’t want to fight, though. Not today. Especially not just minutes before he has to see his doctor that will for sure make him mad. But his bed. It’s his bed. Hoseok’s lying on it.

“I don’t want to watch it here, let’s go to the living room or something…” he suggests. “Yeah, the couch would be more comfortable.”

“Fine by me.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung pauses where he was going to grab his bag from the back seat when his phone rings, and quickly reaches for it. His brows furrow in concern upon seeing Miyun’s name on the screen. “Hey?” he picks up immediately.

“Hi, Tae. Are you at work?” she asks, but her tone seems light.

His shoulders relax. “I’m just now arriving at Jeon’s house, why?”

“I’m picking Jiwoon up from school today, and I thought that maybe you could join us for dinner. I’m cooking.”

“Hm, sounds great. I’ll meet you at your place after my last session.” he nods, picking up the bag and closing the door. “Must I bring anything?”

“You could grab some dessert on the way.”

“I’ll buy something.” Miyun just makes a kissing sound, and he rolls his eyes with a smile as he puts in the right code to open the door. “I have to go.”

“Give him my num—”

“Bye—!” he ends the call before a proper goodbye, and just shoves the phone into his pocket. His smile is quickly replaced by the same impassive expression that he makes sure to have around the athlete, and he's already dreading their interaction. As always, he puts the bag on the floor and waits.

Not even two minutes after, he’s able to hear the wheels dragging on the floor, and the low chattering of a feminine voice. He can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been to convince someone so hard-headed to have an at-home nurse. Must’ve taken hours to do.

Jungkook’s glaring at him already, and he hasn’t even fully entered the room yet. Jesus. He’s impossible. “I’ll leave you two.” she smiles, locking his chair. “And, please, don’t forget to take it easy today, Mr. Jeon…”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“No reason.” Jungkook says, quickly. His nurse opens her mouth to speak, but Jungkook’s glare shifts to her, and she just closes her mouth and bows before leaving them alone. Taehyung has half the mind to follow her.

“Why must we go easy?” he asks him instead.

“Mind your own business.”

“You are my business, whether we like it or not. I can just go to your nurse and ask her, but you can also just use your big boy words and answer me.” Jungkook’s jaw slacks, and Taehyung swears that he’s never seen him this offended before. “What’s wrong today?”

“I hate you. I actually cannot stand you.”

“That’s ok with me, I don’t mind. What’s wrong today?”

Jungkook shifts a bit, his eyebrows furrowing in discomfort. “Nothing is wrong.” he still says, but he’s not good at lying, Taehyung realizes. The way that he shifted, the way that his glare turned into discomfort and pain is too familiar to him, and Taehyung isn’t dumb.

“Are you having muscle pain?” he asks, tentative.

Jungkook blinks. “No.”

Taehyung hums with a little nod, not at all convinced. “I actually think that you are. Understandably so… You’ve been on your ass for what, over two weeks now? That pain is to be expected.”

“I’m ok with pain, it doesn’t faze me.” the younger says, tone much quieter than before, which comes off as a surprise. He never sounds anything but arrogant and confident. “Suit yourself.” he quickly adds as he turns his chair around, starting to put some distance between them to leave.

“I can give you a massage.” Taehyung offers. “A lot of patients have muscle pains, especially the ones with atrophy… and massages help.” Jungkook halts, but he doesn’t say anything, and the doctor can almost hear him thinking it through. “I’m good with my hands…?”

Jungkook turns to him, expression unreadable. “Why would I say yes, when my nurse can do that for me…?”

Taehyung breathes out twice so as not to give him a rude answer. “You’ll have the exclusivity of me being nice to you for once, how’s that?”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“If you don’t want the massage, just say no and continue in pain, and I’ll go eat a sandwich and waste yet another morning on you.” Taehyung says, running out of patience. He really can’t stand Jungkook at all.

“Will… Will it really help?” Jungkook asks, not meeting his eyes for a second. “Will the massage really help?” Taehyung fails to hide his surprise.

Jungkook must really be in pain to accept his help. “Yes.” he nods. “Not only that, but the more I stimulate your muscles and every little sen—”

“None of that. I don’t want any of those bullshit stretches or exercises that you guys come up with for money. I’ll take the massage, and that’s it. If you do anything other than that, I’ll put a stop to it. Got it?”

Taehyung has to hold everything in his body back so that he won’t give him an answer that will make him go back with his word. Instead, “Fine.”

“Ok, good.” Taehyung steps closer, standing behind him to push his wheelchair, but Jungkook holds his hand up to stop him. “I can do it.” he says, voice once again cold; that’s what the therapist is used to by now.

“Alright, you do it, then.” Taehyung walks ahead of him after picking up his bag, and stops next to the massage table that he suspects was only bought for them to use on their sessions. He can’t even begin to think about how much money Jungkook’s team spent in one go to equip his house for the sessions, and his day-to-day… and he doesn’t use his resources.

Jungkook stops his chair once by the table

“Can you also just get on it by yourself, or will you take my help for one thing, at the very least?” Taehyung asks, fed up. The athlete eyes the table, calculating how he’ll get himself on top of it, but it doesn’t take long for him to realize that it won’t end up well if he attempts to do so.

“I will accept you to do your job this once.” he gives in.

“You will accept my help, yes.” Taehyung rephrases as he steps closer, bending down to slide his arm under the young man’s knees. Jungkook, very reluctantly, throws his arm across Taehyung’s shoulders for support. “Alright, one, two…” he straightens up, surprising both of them when he’s actually able to pick him up and carry him to the table without failing.

Jungkook crosses his arms over his stomach, eyes on the doctor’s every move. His eyebrows furrow in alarm when he sees his hands moving to the strings of his sweatpants. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“How the fuck am I meant to massage your legs?”

“Over my pants—?”

“Right, spreading ointment over your pants will most definitely help you a lot with the pain.” Taehyung can’t hold his sarcasm, and he’s already giving up on even trying to carry out any sort of civil conversation. Jungkook presses his lips together. “Are you not wearing underwear or something?”

“I am.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asks and, for the first time ever, his tone sounds quite sincere and understanding.

“None. Go on.” Jungkook mumbles, eyes on the ceiling. Taehyung carefully gets rid of his sweatpants, and leaves them neatly folded on the nearest surface. Jungkook can’t feel it when his hands come in contact with his left leg, but he can see it from his peripheral vision. He chews on the inside of his cheek, chest feeling a little funny. He’s never had anyone touching his legs, other than to dress him, so he’s never had to deal with the lack of… feel.

He really wants to cry. He won’t, though.

He’d never cry in front of someone. Especially not a stranger.

“Can you feel my hands, Jeon?” Taehyung asks as he applies the right amount of pressure on his thigh, looking up at his face to make sure to catch it in case he decides to lie. “My hands, or any sort of pressure?”

He takes a second before shaking his head. “No.”

Taehyung nods. “Hm, just as I assumed…” he speaks, more to himself than anything, and Jungkook quickly meets his eyes with a rather puzzled expression. “You’re paralyzed, so you physically can’t feel pain below your injury. The pain that you’re feeling is most likely originated in your spine… or psychological. Have you ever heard of phantom pain? It’s something that—”

“The fuck are you saying? I know what I’m feeling.”

“You’re really annoying to talk to.” Jungkook makes an affronted sound, and Taehyung’s hands halt where they press on his calf. “Did I say that aloud?”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

“I understand how hard this must be for you, especially considering the life that you lived before the accident, and let me tell you that I truly believe that you need psychological help to get through this…” he starts, straightening up. “But it is not my fault, and I’m only here to help you, nothing else. I need you to start trusting me and believing what I tell you about your condition. I don’t mean any harm, and I don’t want to piss you off more than what I do by just being here existing. You piss me off by just existing, too, so we can most definitely find somewhat of a green area to work together on this. However, for that, I need you to trust me and believe what I say. I studied this for years, you googled it for five or ten minutes. There’s a difference.”

Jungkook holds eye contact for a few seconds, silent, before resting his head again and just fixing his attention on the ceiling. Taehyung’s relieved.

He focuses back on the massage.

“What are you so intensely afraid of?” he asks after roughly two minutes spent in silence. “Of the treatments failing, or is it something else?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” Jungkook mumbles.

Taehyung sighs. “Sure, of course.”

The athlete closes his eyes, processing the information given to him mere minutes prior, and it makes his fist close into a tight ball. “Your massage isn’t going to help at all, is it? If I don’t actually feel the pain that I feel.”

Taehyung remains silent.

“Get away from me.” Jungkook holds himself up on his forearm, using his other hand to physically get the other away from him with a light push that he wishes could be either a good push or a nice punch.

“The first stage of this whole thing consists of freaking massages. Why do you refuse to just lay there for like, fifty minutes, an hour, whatever, having your legs massaged? You wouldn’t have to do anything at the start, nothing.”

“You just fucking lied to me. I trusted you once and—”

“When did I lie?” Jungkook scoffs.

“I said no stretches, no exercises, and you said ‘fine’.”

“I didn’t do either, I was massaging your legs.”

“Fuck off. Give me my fucking pants.” he gestures to the piece of clothing discarded a few feet away from him, and he’s rather surprised when the doctor actually listens and hands them over.

What comes next is nothing short of embarrassing to him. He’s never had to dress himself ever since the accident and he had no idea of how much of a challenge it would be to do it by himself — he didn’t want to know, he didn’t even attempt so that he wouldn’t know the struggle.

“Do you want help?”

“I want you to shut the fuck up and stay away.”

Taehyung breathes in and out. “Alright, I shall.”

Jungkook has never felt this embarrassed and humiliated in his life. He’s lost fights before, he’s had his nose broken in front of audiences of millions, and still, this is the most embarrassing and humiliating thing that he’s had to experience. He wants to disappear.

Putting his pants on when one hand is being used to hold himself up and his legs don’t cooperate in the slightest is not only embarrassing, but is also frustrating. He knows that his physiotherapist is still watching, he can feel the burning feeling of his eyes on him, and it makes it all worse. God, he hates it.

Taehyung doesn’t like watching it. Seeing his patients in such a state always gives him a weird feeling, almost like it hurts him just as much, and Jungkook isn’t any different. Taehyung doesn’t like watching him struggle so much just to put his pants on.

And he can see how much it is frustrating him. Taehyung can see the anger start to build up, the frustration, the irritation, and he’s not blind to the redness growing in his eyes. He gulps; he can’t take it. “Can I—”

“I can do it.” Jungkook almost growls his words out, but it’s obvious just how much it’s hurting him to fail at such a simple task. “Just stay away. I can.”

“Can you ignore your goddamn masculinity for two freaking seconds so that I can put your pants on?” Taehyung asks, needing to put a stop to what’s happening right before him. He can’t even imagine how frustrated the younger man must be feeling, and he’s itching to help.

“I don’t need your help. After this, I don’t even want to hear your voice ever again.” Jungkook still denies his offer, shaking his head — his eyes, though, don’t do a good job when it comes to hiding how he actually feels inside, and Taehyung can see it clearly.

Taehyung sighs, stepping closer to him to help. Jungkook immediately pushes him as well as he can with only one functioning hand, the other still being used to hold himself up.

“I said stay the fuck away, you f—”

Taehyung holds his wrist before he can actually be hit any harder than now, stopping him. “Jungkook, stop. For one second, stop. Let me help you.” he stresses, still gripping his wrist as the other tries to pry it away.

Jungkook’s face crumbles up even more, as if accepting his help is more embarrassing than letting his struggle be seen, but ends up tugging his arm free hard enough for Taehyung to finally let go of it, and doesn’t try to push him.

Taehyung approaches him like an injured animal: a little hesitant and tentative, testing the waters, and only takes the sweatpants from his hold once he realizes that Jungkook’s ok — at least to some extent — with his help to get dressed so that he can leave the gym. It doesn’t take a full minute for Taehyung to put his sweatpants back on, and even ties them up for him.

“Don’t.” Jungkook warns when he tries to pick him up, and Taehyung steps away with his hands up to let him do his thing. He doesn’t struggle much to get on the chair, a task undeniably easier than getting on the massage table, and he doesn’t utter a single word before getting away from there.

Taehyung can only watch until the door closes.

Then, once alone, he sighs. “You fucked that one up.” he whispers to himself, eyeing the ointment still coating his hands, and gets rid of it by spreading it on his arms, all the while thinking of what to do next. There’s not much that he can do, that he knows. He can have a sandwich, he supposes

The lady in the kitchen looks surprised to see him. “I did not think that you had come today, usually you’re here after five minutes.” she admits, still chopping some carrots for today’s godforsaken salad.

“Well… He’s experiencing some muscle pain, or at least that’s what he kind of told me, and I…” he drags, lips puckered in a guilty expression.

“You…?” she encourages.

“I may have tricked him…?” Taehyung tilts his head. “Well, kind of. I offered him a massage knowing that it wouldn’t really help with anything, I just saw it as a way to start massaging him.”

“That can’t be allowed.” the cook comments. “Don’t get yourself in trouble just because he’s stubborn. He’ll come around, I’m sure…” Taehyung sighs, rubbing his tired eyes. “And do massages help his condition at all?”

“That’s how we typically start when it’s this bad of a case, yes. Strengthening and stimulating his muscles again… I can’t start rehabilitating exercises with him where he’d work on his strength if he doesn’t have any yet. I need him to regain any sort of feeling and strength in his legs, and then I’ll be able to start predicting whether this will work or not.”

“I watched a few videos at home about this… You know, to know more, and to learn a bit, and I saw that, amongst many other things, you ask them to push against your hands and such, and I asked myself how he’d do it if he can’t move his legs at all. Now I get it.”

“That is indeed an exercise that we do, yeah, but can’t get to that stage before he regains any sort of strength. He can’t push my hand with hopes and dreams. He has to cooperate to get there.”

The woman sighs. “He’s too stubborn…”

“That, he is.”

“Do you want something to eat? I’ll fix you a sandwich.”

Taehyung puckers his lips. “I’ll take one. Thank you.”

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  Why does he have to keep reminding me of this fucking condition
|  I’ve never felt this fucking humiliated in my life, GOD I truly want to die, I’ve never felt like this. I actually want to disappear, I want to be gone
|  I don’t want to think about my condition, so why does he make me acknowledge it every single time. I FUCKING HATE HIM

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung puckers his lips as he clicks on his best friend’s contact number to call him, and he’s relieved to hear Yoongi’s voice not even after three full beeps. “Hey, Yoon… Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s wrong?”

“I may have made him hate me even more…”

“Jesus Christ, man, what did you do?” Yoongi asks with a chuckle.

“Uhm… Well, basically, he complained about having muscle pain, and I told him that massaging the area would help, so he said yes, but in reality, he wasn’t actually experiencing any pain since… You know…”

“He’s paralyzed.” Taehyung hums. “You two are so damn annoying, seriously. I get that you had good intentions, but you can’t lie to him like that.”

“But I lied to help him, nothing else. He wouldn’t have said yes otherwise, and I saw it as a way to start his exercises somehow…”

“Tae, as a psychiatrist, I know that his mind is all over the place right now, and you can’t just do that to him. I can’t imagine how frustrating it must be for you, too, but you can’t trick patients into accepting treatment. They have to consent to everything that we do as their doctors.”

“But he did consent to the massage, which is what I was doing…”

“And would the massage help him…?” Yoongi presses.

Taehyung sighs. “No. He got all angry at me…”

His friend hums. “And he had the right to. You lied to him.”

“Fine, I’ll apologize next time that I see him.” he gives in, voice just barely above an annoyed mumble. “If he reacts poorly again, though, I’ll—”

“How are his legs?” Yoongi interrupts with an audible smile. “Are they rock hard or squishy? They look rock hard on the television. but I’d imagi—”

“Goodbye.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook looks over at the door when he hears a knock, and the possibility of it being his doctor just makes his skin crawl. He can’t possibly handle another conversation so soon after almost busting a vein in his neck from being so angry at him. “Can I?” he hears a feminine voice instead.

“Come in.” Jungkook says, turning on the light on his bedside table before managing himself into a sitting position. “I’m surprised to see you.”

“Taehyung didn’t want to disturb you even more today.”

“Taehyung?” he tilts his head.

“Mr. Kim.” she adds.

“Hm.” he’s never heard anyone address him by his first name and, if it had been said before, he didn’t make any effort to retain and remember it.

“Here’s your lunch…” the woman hands the bowl over to him alongside a fork, and places a nice glass with cold water on his bedside table. “I hope that it’s good, I added some of your favorite things to this one.”

“Your food is always good. Thank you.” Jungkook looks up at her with a little smile, and it might just be the first time that his lips stretch that much since his accident. Still, it’s not a Jungkook smile.

It doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t light up his face.

It’s a forced smile, and it doesn’t mean the same.

“Mr. Jeon, am I allowed to ask you something…?” she starts, a little hesitant, as he takes the first piece of chicken to his mouth. “I don’t mean to upset you, so please tell me if I overstep… But I have to ask this.”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t you try?” Jungkook sighs, puts his fork down as his demeanor changes, shoulders sagging. “I have seen how hard you’ve always worked, since you were a little nineteen-year-old boy… I have seen your determination, your fierceness. The Jeon Jungkook that I’ve always known would never just lay h—”

“Please, don’t start with this, too.” he interrupts her before she can go on. “I don’t try because I don’t want to, and it would be a waste of my time.”

“What if it wouldn’t?” she smiles. “What if he’s right?” Jungkook opens and closes his mouth twice before looking back down at his salad to pick a piece of lettuce, positively ignoring her questions. “Wouldn’t you you’re your life back…? Wouldn’t you want to step foot in a ring again?”

“I’ll never even be able to stand up again, understand that before even asking me such ludicrous things…” Jungkook almost mumbles.

“But what if you are able to stand up again?”

Once more, Jungkook just toys with the salad in the bowl, positively ignoring the woman. “The salad is nice.” he says.

His cook smiles, a sad smile, before walking over to kiss the top of his head. “You know how much I adore you, Mr. Jeon, I've been here through the ups and downs of your career, and I see you almost as a son of mine.” Jungkook gulps. “I know how strong you are. I’ve seen it. You’re not showing us the Jungkook that we all know by staying here, and accepting your unfortunate loss. Jeon Jungkook would never lay here and accept it. He’d never let anyone dictate his future, wouldn’t let anyone dare say that he wouldn’t be in a ring again. He’d prove those doctors wrong.”

“Maybe he died in the accident.” Jungkook whispers.

“He didn’t.” she shakes her head. “He’s just scared.”

“I’m not.” he quickly says. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“You are, and it’s ok.” Jungkook watches as she walks away to the door after ruffling his hair. “I’m scared of a lot of things, too, and I’ll tell you a secret… I’m terrified that this won’t work out, because I really want to see you on your feet again. It’s scary, but no one else can do it for you. Be Jungkook for yourself… no one else can do this, no one can make you get better.”

Jungkook stuffs his mouth with lettuce.

“I’ll bring you some fruits for dessert in a bit.” and after that, she leaves him with his own consuming thoughts

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  My chest feels funny, and I hate it so much. First him, now HER
|  I can’t stop my thoughts from spiraling with this
|  Fuck my life. I can’t stop thinking. I even feel alone and this isn’t normal, I can’t bear this kind of feelings in my chest… I’m definitely crying myself to sleep tonight
|  I feel like a fucking failure

Chapter Text

The alarm hasn’t gone off yet when Miyun’s eyes slowly start to open, getting used to the faint lights in the bedroom, all coming from the television — long forgotten on the very last frame of the animated movie that they fell asleep watching.

She straightens up, gently prying away the small head resting on her chest, and kisses Jiwoon’s forehead before even daring to sit up. Taehyung’s arm falls when she does so, previously loosely wrapped around her.

Once again, they’ve fallen asleep while watching something all cuddled up in bed with Jiwoon, and ended up spending the whole night like that. It’s been happening more frequently as of lately, now that Miyun is trying to spend more time with their son.

She takes her phone before leaving the room, turning off all of the alarms on the way to the kitchen. She can just prepare them a nice breakfast before going back to wake them up so that they can enjoy it together.

Spending time with the two has become something that she thoroughly appreciates and, now that she has more free time from work, she can’t have enough of the pair. It makes her happy, feel included.

And Jiwoon has told her multiple times about just how much he likes it when they’re all together. How can anyone say no? He’s too cute to be denied anything.

TWITTER

|  🖤 (@miypk95)
|  I just prepared the cutest bear-shaped toasts for my baby
|  The day that he tells me that he’s too “grown” for this is the day that he can start preparing his own food. Which will NEVER happen because he’ll be a baby forever.

“Tae…” he hears as a hand slowly nudges him by his side, and he lets out a hum, confused. “Jiwoon, c’mon, wake up. You two are the same nightmare to get out of bed, Jesus. I didn’t know that I was a mother of two.”

“What time is it…?” Taehyung mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Did we fall asleep watching the movie again?”

“I think so, yes.” Miyun nods, tapping his shoulder again. “And it’s ten past seven now. I’ve made breakfast for you two, get up. Let’s go eat while it’s still hot… Jiwoon, get up, or I’m selling all of your toys.”

The young boy sits up right away, only one eye open.

Taehyung chuckles. “That worked like a charm.”

“Mom’s really mean…” Jiwoon whispers, making them both laugh as Miyun opens her arms in a silent offer to carry him to the kitchen, and he takes it without thinking twice. “I take that back.”

“I thought so, too.” Miyun kisses his cheek, heading towards the bedroom door to leave. “If your dad doesn’t rush, I’ll drink his coffee.” she sing-songs on her way out.

“I’m up. I’m up.” Taehyung sits up, stretching his arms as he lets his brain take its moment to wake up enough for him to get up from the bed. He’s thankful that he laid down in sweatpants and a simple tee shirt, otherwise he would’ve spent the night either in jeans or his work scrubs. Both horrible options.

When he gets to the kitchen, Jiwoon is already munching on a mouthful as his mother smiles at him, holding her coffee mug. “I was about to drink yours.”

“I agree, mom is mean.” he comments, and Jiwoon holds his hand out for a high-five. Miyun rolls her eyes, still smiling at them. “Don’t forget to pick him up.”

“Mhm, I know.” she nods. “We’re going to the movies.”

“Oh, you are?” Jiwoon hums with an excited nod, his mouth full. “I’d join you guys on that, but I have way too much to do today… Unfortunately.”

“Like seeing my future husband?” Taehyung’s hand freezes where he was going to take a good sip from his mug, and he proceeds to give her the most unimpressed look ever. “What? I still have hopes that you’ll give him my number, and he’ll fall for me—”

“Are you going to marry someone else?” they both stop, looking over at the young boy. “Why can’t you marry each other…? You have me, so you should…”

“Honey, we will, eventually, find someone else, yes. We are not together, and you know that. Your dad’s my best friend, but I’m not marrying him. Look on the brighter side: when we do find new partners, you’ll have two more people getting you toys and food, hm? Two more people spoiling you.”

“I’d like it better if you were together…” he whispers, eyes on his toast that isn’t as appetizing anymore. His parents share a look, neither knowing what to say.

“You see, some people aren’t meant to stay together like that even if they get along well. You’ll understand it as you grow older, this is something for adults to worry about. Besides, there’s a lot that you don’t know.”

“Tae…” she whispers, worried.

Taehyung sighs, taking a sip. He knows that he can’t say anything as he doesn’t want to break Jiwoon’s heart; he’s way too young to even try to understand. “Let’s just focus on enjoying our breakfast peacefully.” he says. “What movie are you two going to watch, hm? Some animation?”

“I haven’t checked the movies available yet, but we’ll surely find something that we’ll both find entertaining.”

“I see, I see…” Taehyung nods, and they can both feel the slight awkwardness surrounding them. “I’ll go grab my stuff. I still have to go home to grab new scrubs and some files. You two, enjoy breakfast.” he stands up, ruffling Jiwoon’s bed hair; he makes sure to kiss the top of Miyun’s head before leaving the kitchen.

Work is always a good way to distract himself.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung sits in his car for a few extra minutes, considering what he’s going to say when he sees the younger man, but he can’t figure it out. He can’t trust himself to just come up with it on the spot, because it’s already been proven that he can’t have a normal conversation with the athlete without getting angry.

Neither of them can bear the other’s presence.

He had a long conversation with Yoongi just hours prior, addressing just how wrong it was of him to lie, in a way, to get Jungkook to start his exercises, but it’s going to be a challenge to put that in words for him.

After a long sigh and a few curse words, he gets out of the car. As always, he gets his bag and his phone, and heads to the door to press in the four-numbers code. He goes over the apology once again on his way to the gym, word for word, and hopes that it won’t just suddenly evaporate from his mind once he starts.

It doesn’t take long for him to hear the wheels dragging on the floor, paired up with the same female chattering that he’s never heard answers to — he wonders whether Jungkook talks to her at all. Poor woman. Must have the patience of a saint.

“Hello, Mr. Kim.” she greets with a polite smile.

“Hey, there.” he bows, watching as she takes her time making sure that Jungkook’s chair is safely locked in place, and Jungkook, unsurprisingly, makes sure to glare at him all the while. Jungkook will never not glare at him, he knows.

“Alright, I’ll now leave you two to it.” the nurse bows to them, and walks out of the room. Jungkook’s expression closes off even more now that they’re alone.

He breathes in, mentally preparing himself. “Before you tell me to go fuck myself and go back to your room, I have something important to say.” Taehyung prefaces, and the other simply continues glaring as he waits for him to go on. “It was wrong of me not to be completely honest with you about the massage. I knew that it would not alleviate any pain, but I saw it as a way to get you to start your exercises. I shouldn’t have technically lied to you. I am sorry for that.”

That was nice, he thinks. It definitely could’ve been worse, and he didn’t even insult Jungkook in any way. That was successful, a nice and sincere apology.

“I don’t accept your apology.” Jungkook says, though.

Taehyung’s eye twitches. “Then do with it what you will, just know that it was an honest and genuine apology.” he shrugs.

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“I also don’t care whether you accept it or not, I just have basic human skills, and know to apologize when I mess up. If you want to forgive or not, is your business.” and so there it is. It was going too well.

“Suit yourself, go eat a sandwich, or something. Don’t even think about bothering me again.” Jungkook unlocks the wheels, swiftly making his way out of there without even answering what he said. Taehyung just lets him.

“Fucking hell…” he curses to himself.

And Jungkook doesn’t even want to think about the stupid apology, only set on getting back to his bedroom as fast as possible, lest he be seen by anyone. The harder he ignores the man currently in his gym, the easier it’ll be to just fall asleep, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He refuses to even think about what Taehyung said during his apology. He doesn’t care. He can’t, and won’t care about it. It angers him.

Back in his bedroom, he faces the same struggle to get to his bed; a struggle that is starting to become familiar, and he positively hates it. He doesn’t want to get used to being unable to get on his damn bed.

His phone pings, getting his attention.

Jimin. It’s been over a week since they’ve talked, and it consisted of Jungkook telling him to give him space and nothing more. Truth be said, he misses his best friend, and he could use the distraction.

He presses the call button, on the video-call option.

Jimin picks up in a second. “Kook, my God, hi.” he smiles, and usually it’d make Jungkook smile, too, but this time, it doesn’t. “I didn’t expect you to even answer my text, let alone call me… I’ve missed your face quite a lot.”

“I missed you, too.” Jungkook lies on his side, holding the phone in a rather awkward position. Jimin’s left eye is closed as someone works diligently on his eyeshadow, and his make-up is almost ready. “Where are you going? I’m sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with your schedule… I uhm, I don’t know whether you have a walk or something…” he admits. “Do you?”

“Don’t apologize, Kook. I barely know my schedule myself.” Jimin quickly dismisses. “It’s just a photoshoot for some brand… You’ll actually be there on my next walk, right? You used to always attend to support me.”

“We’ll see…” he says, though he knows that he won’t be attending it. He can’t possibly show up in public ever again. “How are you doing? How’s Yug…?”

“We’re doing alright… We miss you, and we’re very worried about you, but— but we’re ok.” Jimin worries at his bottom lip, looking at him. “Whenever you’re ready, you’ll tell us whatever is going on, right? You know that we’re here for you. For whatever you may need. We’re always here.”

Jungkook gulps. “I know.” he nods; he knows that much, but the moment that he tells them, it’ll be too real. Not only that, he’s also insanely embarrassed. How can he possibly tell them what happened? He won’t. He can’t.

Jimin gives him a tight smile. “I’ll wait for you to be ready. Now, tell me, how are you? I haven’t heard your voice in a long-ass while. Tell me anything, really.”

“I’m… I’m trying to feel better.” he whispers. “But you know me, I’m always ok. It’s fine, I’m Jeon Jungkook.” he repeats those same words once again.

“You can say that to everyone, but me. Even the biggest, strongest men have weaknesses, or weak moments. You’re obviously not doing ok, or you wouldn’t be isolating yourself, and looking miserable.”

Jungkook sighs. “I have to go.”

“Kook, no, c’m—” but he ends the call, switching his phone to airplane mode so that his friend won’t try to call him again. He closes his eyes, and covers his ears. He’ll ignore this one, too. The last thing that he needs is more things to overthink over. He just wants silence, but his mind hasn’t stopped screaming since the accident.

The only breaks are during sleep. A nap sounds good now… but he’s not sleepy.

Reading is something that Jungkook has never enjoyed. Ever since his school days, he could never understand the fascination of sitting down with a book in hands, reading about someone else’s fictional story. It’s too boring for his mind, for his body.

He’s always had too much energy, too much going on in his head, and he’s always liked busying himself with multiple activities that get him moving, exercising — he’s always been a fan of everything physical. He likes the rewarding sweat afterwards.

Today, though, he finds himself in bed with a book that has been sitting on his bedside table for two or three years, waiting to even be opened. It’s a book written by his best friend, some sort of autobiography that tells the story of how he grew up, and how he ended up being one of the most famous models in the country.

Jungkook’s only ten pages in, and he hasn’t read a single thing that he didn’t know already, so it’s not very captivating. He knows all about Jimin’s life story, just as much as Jimin knows his. Still, he’ll try to finish it.

When the book first came out, Jungkook joked about charging him a hundred bucks for every unauthorized mention of his name, and he’ll be sure to count them to give the joke its due continuation. So far, he’s been mentioned twice.

He remembers receiving an offer from the same company to write a book about his own life, and he never turned down anything as fast. As long as the number on the offer was, no money could ever be enough to get him to just expose his entire life to the public. No one has anything to do with it.

Flipping a page, he snorts to himself at the childhood picture of Jimin with a cow hat on. He wants to text him about it, make fun of it, but he holds back. He doesn’t want to start another conversation, and he’s suddenly more interested in whatever story in relation to the stupid picture. Something about a school play.

He’s never participated in the school plays, always stuck to the sport-related activities. Those got him where he is… Was? Will be until he makes a final statement that he will no longer be able to fight again?

With a sigh, he closes the book, no longer in the mood.

His laptop is right by his side, and he opens a new tab to the search engine. Jeon Jungkook, he types. There are thousands of different articles written every day under his name, he’s already used to that, but he doesn’t like the titles that he now finds. Many speculations, many theories, and none of them are right. It angers him. People thinking that they know him, or that they have the right to speculate about his private life. He wants to sue every news outlet, wants to reply to every tweet telling them all to just shut up and leave him alone, but he doesn’t have the energy.

Still under the same search, he clicks on the images. There are pictures of him in the one movie that Hoseok bothered him enough into accepting, pictures of his modeling gigs, but most of them are in the ring. Each one of them with different opponents; some of him holding the champion belt with a bleeding nose and only one glove on, being held by the referee. It saddens him.

He looks the happiest in those pictures, holding his trophies and his winner belts, and it makes panic build up in his chest. He’s never going to get that back. He’ll never feel that happiness again, will never stand in a ring again — won’t stand at all.

It makes him want to cry. He can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t think that he’ll be strong enough to stop them if he lets the first one fall. He’s been crying a little too much lately. He used to never cry, he had no reason to.

No one has ever seen him cry, and he plans on keeping it like that for as long as possible. He really can’t stand the thought of showing his weaknesses.

Jungkook slams his laptop closed, rubbing his tired eyes. He needs to wash his face with cold water, that’s what he needs. It’ll help him to fight the tears, and it’ll wake him up a little. He wants to finish the book.

He reaches for his chair, tugging it closer to the bed so that he can get on it. It’s harder to get on the chair than to get on the bed, and he never has to do it by himself as he always calls his nurse to help, but he can’t call her now — he’s supposed to be at the gym having a session.

“Oh, shit—” he braces himself for impact when the chair slips from his hands, having forgotten to lock the wheels when he got there, and he can barely cover his face in time before hitting the floor; the chair now flipped over. He hisses at the stinging pain on his elbow and hand, his still bandaged finger escaping by pure luck.

He doesn’t want to hurt it further.

It’s embarrassing to be in such a position, and the panic has only increased, the will to cry now tripled. The chair is too far away, and the bed is too high for him to climb without being able to use his legs, and he’s only growing more and more agitated.

“I was walking past and I hear—” he hears Taehyung’s voice cutting off as the door opens, and he’s never felt this embarrassed; this humiliated. He’s in the most uncomfortable position on the floor, trying for dear life to use the furniture to hoist himself up and back on the bed, with his chair flipped on the floor. Pathetic.

He feels a pair of hands reaching under his arms, and he feels a wave of anger wash over him. Anger at himself, at the stupid chair, at the bed for being so high, at the doctor — everything. “Get away from me!” he yells, pushing the hands away, thus letting go of the places where he was supporting himself, and falling again.

“Stop. I’ll put you in—”

“Don’t fucking touch me, get away!” Jungkook yells once again, his tone distressed, but Taehyung can hear the hidden cry in his voice. He doesn’t have time to be surprised by it, though, when he has a patient struggling so hard to get on his bed.

“I’m trying to help you, please, allow me to.” he half-begs, his chest hurting with painful sympathy. He hates watching these moments. “Let me—” but his hands are swatted away once again, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s not stronger than him.

“There’s no helping me, fucking understand that already!” Jungkook’s voice is just as loud again, but it’s so filled with anger and frustration that it’s almost chilling. “Get the fuck out of my house and never come back, your help means nothing.”

“Jeon—”

“I said leave!”

Taehyung sighs, positively ignoring Jungkook’s yells for him to leave, and walks closer when he spots a glass of water on the nightstand. Water might help. He hands it over, taking two steps back.

What he didn’t expect was for that same glass to be thrown in his direction right away, not necessarily at him, but it doesn’t miss him by much. The sound of the glass breaking makes him flinch, and he’s definitely startled.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” now it’s his turn to yell, and Jungkook doesn’t do a very good job at hiding his surprise; Taehyung knows how intimidating he can sound when he’s angry, his deep voice getting deeper.

“Leave my r—”

“I understand that this situation is really fucking horrible, but it is not my fucking fault. You could’ve hit me with that fucking glass!” he points at the object, now shattered on the floor, never once breaking eye contact.

“It is your fucking fault for not leaving me the hell alone as I have fucking told you to do!” Jungkook matches his tone, clearly not regretting what he’s just done. “I don’t want or need your pathetic help. You can’t help me, so leave!”

“I can, though! I literally can.” Taehyung stresses, growing tired of repeating the same thing over and over again. “It’s my damn job, you’re the one who doesn’t fucking accept help, who doesn’t want to get better. It’s your fault, and your fault alone.”

“I’m never walking again, stop trying to fucking delude me into thinking that I will just so that I pay you to stick around for longer. You’re all fucking leeches!”

Taehyung chuckles, an angry kind of laugh, hand tugging his hair back as he looks away from him for a moment. “You’re just as bad, as rude and entitled, as arrogant, as unbearable as the press makes you look. I am done trying to talk to you or be nice to you. I’m fucking done with you, I’ve had enough. You’re an asshole, and yes, you’ll never walk again with that fucking ugly and toxic attitude of yours. Fuck off.”

“Just leave already.” Jungkook points towards the door, not really expecting the doctor to turn around on his heels and walk out of the room, closing the door with a loud bang. He lets out a shaky breath at that, blinking.

He looks over at the bed, at how tall it still looks, and the stupid chair resting uselessly a few feet away from him, and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t climb to the bed, and he has no idea of how to get back on the chair when he’s on the floor.

He should’ve listened. The nurse explained, told him exactly what to do in case he fell from the chair, and he chose not to listen so that he wouldn’t have to acknowledge that. Now he sees why he should’ve listened, paid attention to her.

“Fuck…” he whispers to himself, taking a moment to breathe in and out before he simply starts crying and accepts that he won’t be able to get up, but all that he can see when he closes his eyes is Taehyung and how angry he looked. Taehyung walking away.

It makes him angry, and understandably so. The doctor is paid to help him, and yet, he was entitled enough to walk away after stating that he’s giving up on him.

Taehyung can’t give up. He’s getting paid. It leaves him fuming. He’s angry, panicked, worried, and that mixture of emotions isn’t good. He doesn’t know how to get back on the bed by himself. He’s stuck, and it’s humiliating. His eyes well up again.

He looks up when the door opens again, and he’s even more confused when he sees the doctor coming in with a bucket and a mop in hand; he doesn’t look any less angry, so Jungkook doesn’t understand why he’s back.

Jungkook gulps, watching him clean the water from the floor, and he slowly and carefully starts picking up the broken pieces of glass that have fallen at arm’s reach.

“Stop that, you’re going to cut yourself.” Taehyung crouches next to him, holding his wrist to dump the contents on his palm back to the floor. “You’re like a fucking child, stop picking up broken glass.”

The athlete frowns. “I’m trying to help.”

“How about you don’t throw shit? That would be a great help.”

“Then don’t bother me when I tell you to stay away.” he quickly says back, attentively watching as Taehyung carefully picks up the pieces of glass. He has to bite back another jab, but he doesn’t understand how it makes him a child to pick up the shattered pieces, but the doctor is doing it himself.

“You’re seriously such an asshole.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t just leave me alone if you think that I’m so mean and horrible.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, fixing his position so that he’s resting against the bed. “You can just stay in the kitchen.”

“It’s my job to help and, as long as I’m getting paid to come here every day, I have no choice but to try to get my way through you, as much as it irritates me.”

Jungkook scoffs, significantly more offended than he should be. “So, you’re finally admitting that you're here for the money?” he asks, only to make the other laugh. It’s a sarcastic laugh, he knows that much.

“At the moment? Of course. I unfortunately can’t get you to cooperate, so I’m not here to work, and I’m most definitely not here for your company. Hate me as much as you want to hate me, I really don’t care or mind, I still sleep soundly at night knowing that you can’t stand me, but don’t throw shit at me. This is not my fault.”

The athlete bites down on his teeth, his glare never wavering as they stare at each other. Taehyung’s still crouching in front of him, and neither looks away, as if to see who breaks first. Taehyung refuses to do so

“Got it?” he says.

Jungkook takes a moment. “Get out.” he demands, looking away to the glass still on the floor. “You can leave my room now, you have annoyed me enough.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I’ll leave as fast as I can, I’ll just clean your fucking mess up first.” he informs, going back to his task to carefully collect the pieces that he then puts in the bucket. Jungkook watches him mop the water on the white hardwood floor, only to then turn to him.

“What?” Jungkook lets out before he can stop himself, and can only watch the older man walk closer and bend down in front of him to pick him up. “Stop, don’t touch me, I can do it myself. Get aw—”

“Shut up for once, let me help you.” Taehyung cuts him off, sliding his arm under Jungkook’s knees to pick him up. “You’re so goddamn heavy, how does your tiny nurse pick you up?” he asks, unable to hold in.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t.” he fixes his own sheets when Taehyung places him on the bed, and the burning embarrassment hasn’t faded away one bit. He already knows that he’s going to cry as soon as he sees himself alone. His chest feels insanely tight.

“Well, there you go. Try not to break anything else.”

“Yeah, go away.” he gestures to the door, unimpressed.

Taehyung picks up the bucket and the mop and just as told, he leaves without another word. Jungkook lets out a heavy breath, turning off the light as he covers his head with the spare pillow. He feels too much: too much anger, too much frustration, humiliation. He just wants it all to stop.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung rests with his knee brought to his chest on the couch, a glass of white wine in his hand as the other continues mindlessly tapping his thigh. He can’t stop replaying the scene that he unfortunately had to witness, can’t stop thinking back to how panicked and confused Jungkook looked on the floor.

He looked… helpless.

As arrogant and mean as he finds the athlete, he somehow prefers it that way. He wouldn’t wish such a terrifying situation upon his worst enemy, and most definitely doesn’t like seeing Jungkook like that. It doesn’t matter how many insults they yell at each other or how many fights they have, Jungkook is still his patient, and he doesn’t want to see a patient like that, struggling so hard whilst refusing help.

Taehyung can’t seem to find a way through him.

It’s frustrating to him, too. He usually knows what to say, knows what to do to get his patients to feel better, to trust him to make them better and yet, whenever he’s with Jungkook, that stops. He becomes unable to say the right thing, can only mess up further and further. Jungkook doesn’t help, either. He’s rude, his ego is as big as the Earth itself, and he’d rather be in pain than accepting defeat or admit that he needs help.

He—

“—dad? Dad, you’re not listening.” he shudders, eyes focusing back on the little kid by his side, now with a deep frown. “You’re not listening.” he repeats.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking." Taehyung takes another sip from his wine before putting the glass down on the coffee table, and Jiwoon crosses his arms. “C’mon, don’t give me that look. I had a long day, I’m sorry.”

Jiwoon sighs, forced. “Fine, it’s fine. I was telling you about the movie that mommy and I watched today. It was about a big, red dog that grows bigger the more you love him… It was really funny, because I kept imagining Tannie growing. He’d be huge!”

“Yes, he would, yeah.” Taehyung nods, mind still not quite there. His son is smart enough to notice that, he knows that much, so he sighs. “I’m sorry, my head is mush right now, I really can’t pay attention to anything as much as I’d like to. Don’t be mad at your dad, hm? I apologize.”

“I won’t be mad if dad tells me how it was with Kookie today.” Jiwoon smiles, crossing his legs. “Is he still as cool and big and— and strong?” he asks.

“Uhm… Sure, yes.” he nods, because as much as he dislikes his son’s adoration towards the athlete, he could never be the one to give him the disappointment of finding out how the star actually is. “He’s still as… cool.”

“Are you friends now?”

“Oh, no, not at all, no.” Taehyung can’t help but to laugh. They can barely hold a conversation without wanting to kill each other; they could never be friends.

“Oh… I thought that he could come to my birthday party this year, since you’re friends.” Jiwoon pouts, that sad pout that only comes through when he’s upset, and Taehyung doesn’t like it one bit. “I guess not…”

“Well, I’ll promise to try to get you a signed card.” he most definitely won’t. “How’s that?” Jiwoon smiles so big that he instantly feels guilty. “If I don’t manage to get it, then it’s because he sucks and you should idolize someone else, yeah?" nice one, he thinks.

"Hm, okay.” Jiwoon grabs the Nintendo that he was playing on, before getting up to get their dog. Yeontan is not impressed when his front paws are picked up from the floor so that he engages in whatever dance that Jiwoon starts. “I can’t believe that I’m getting Kookie’s signature for my birthday…!” he shrieks at the poor dog that doesn’t understand a thing.

Taehyung blinks. “Oh, Jesus…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  It’s been over three weeks since the accident, and today was the lowest that I’ve ever felt
|  I’ve been defeated before, beat to the ground until I couldn’t stand again on my own, and yet nothing could ever compare to what I felt today while on the floor
|  I felt helpless, useless. Fuck me for this and I don’t want to admit out loud, but if he had left, I have no idea of how I would’ve gotten up
|  I can’t spend the rest of my life like this. I can’t stay stuck to this stupid chair. I can’t. I can’t live like this anymore.

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  I think that I give up on this. I never thought that I’d give up on a patient, but he obviously doesn’t care about himself and won’t hear me. I can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped
|  I’m tired, and he could’ve hit me with the glass. If he wants me to leave him alone, I will. From today on, I go over for the sandwiches and nothing else. I can’t let him hurt himself even more to try to fight me. If he wants space, then so be it.

Chapter Text

Jungkook glances at the clock on his bedside table, sighing. His nurse won’t be long to come help him get dressed for the day, and today he’s dreading that a bit more. Not that he doesn’t always dread any sort of interaction with her that, despite being polite and professional, still manages to get on his nerves sometimes —she talks too much, and is just too nice. He doesn’t like that. It’s certainly exaggerated just to please him.

No one is that nice and joyful.

As if on cue, there’s a knock on his door, and soon her head peeks in to check whether he’s awake or not. “Hi, good morning, Mr. Jeon. Can I come in?” she asks.

“Come.” he nods, watching her as she makes her way to his bed. She’s only ever allowed in his room when it’s to dress him or help him off and on the bed, but it still bothers him a bit; he doesn’t like seeing her there.

“How are you feeling today?” she asks with a smile, carefully pulling the sheets away so that she can start dressing him; the clothes are already laid out on the foot of the bed, as he prefers to pick them by himself before she goes there — and it also means that she won’t have to lurk even more, or go through his things.

“The same as yesterday.” is his answer, short and dry.

“Well, we can only hope that tomorrow will be better, then.” the woman shrugs, reaching for the strings of his sweatpants, but he holds a hand up to stop her.

“I want to do it.” he says, and she doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “I’d like to learn how to do it myself. Teach me how to do it myself.”

“I’ll be very happy to teach you, Mr. Jeon.”

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  That was stressful… But easier than expected.
|  I’m as useful as a two-year-old. Congratulations, Jungkook, you can fucking dress yourself

“Hey…” Jungkook greets as he enters the kitchen, his cook jumping in place at the sudden presence. “Did I scare you?” he asks, pushing his chair closer.

“Jesus, yes, you did.” she nods with a quiet laugh. “I’m very surprised to see you here. What got you out of bed this early? I was about to take your food to you.”

“I decided to have breakfast here today… Instead of my bed. I’ve been stuck to it for too long that I just—I don’t know, I’m sick of it. Besides, you could, you know, use some company.” he shrugs, stopping by the kitchen island.

“Hm, I could use some company, or you could?” she asks without looking at him, but he can hear the smile in her voice as she places his avocado toasts on a plate, and moves to serve his cauliflower smoothie. Something that she deems as disgusting.

“I’m ok by myself.” Jungkook mumbles; she hums. He waits until the food is placed in front of him, and eats in silence as she starts preparing lunch. There’s music coming from a small portable radio that she always brings to work, and he internally thanks it for filling the silence that would, undeniably, be awkward on his end.

“H—”

“I fell the other day.” he says, quiet, eyes on his food so that he doesn’t have to see her reaction. “Two days ago, when Kim was over. I fell while trying to get to my chair, and— Did he not tell you? I even broke a glass…”

“No, he told me that he broke it himself.”

That does make him look up. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe so that I wouldn’t ask you about it, I guess… I don’t know what his intention was. Did he help you up?” he shrugs. “Hm?”

“He did help me. I felt fucking humiliated while I was on the floor, struggling to get on the bed, and I don’t think that I’d be able to get there if he hadn’t appeared, as much as I hate to say. I felt helpless and humiliated.”

“Jungkook…”

“I realized that my whole life will be like that from now on unless I do something about it.” he puts his toast down, looking at her; she gasps. “I almost cried in front of a stranger. I seriously felt like I couldn’t do anything, and I would’ve stayed there if he hadn’t heard me falling… I don’t fucking want that for my future. I don’t want to depend on anyone. I’d rather just kill myself right now, and put myself out of this misery.”

“Don’t you even dare say something like that.” she reprehends, horrified. “Don’t even think about it. God, that hurt to hear.”

“I’m just saying.” he stresses. “I can’t live like this.”

“Then do something about it. Only you can change it.”

“I want to, but—” he stops himself. “But nothing, I don’t fucking know anything anymore.” she smiles, sympathetic, before putting her things down to walk closer to him. She opens her arms, as if to test the waters, and he hesitates for a second, but leans into it soon after. He doesn’t hug her back, but his head rests on her chest as she gently threads her fingers through his hair. It feels motherly, is what he thinks.

“You’ll be alright. You’re strong, it’ll be ok.”

“I don’t think so…” he whispers.

“Don’t waste your time creating fake scenarios in your head. Instead, work on making real ones. Hopefully more positive ones…” she kisses the top of his head, and he sighs. “The true power to change this entire situation is in your hands and your hands alone, Jungkook, no one else’s. Work on it.”

Jungkook nods, his eyes closed. “I have to.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung sighs as he puts down his bag, already fed up with having to put on an act for the nurse to see, and simply waits for the younger man to appear so that they can part ways and he can go read other patients’ reports to make some use of his time.

It doesn’t take more than a minute or so for him to hear the wheels on the floor, and steps coming closer. “Hi there, Mr. Kim.” she greets with a bow that he mirrors.

“Hello.” he greets back as she safely locks the wheels, and only gives them a smile and another bow before leaving them. Taehyung looks down at the athlete, already picking up his bag. “I know, suit myself. I’ll just go to your kitchen, as I’ve given up on trying to argue with you, so don’t even bother insulting m—”

“No.” Jungkook interrupts.

Taehyung stops walking after taking two steps. “No?” Jungkook simply shakes his head. “No what? Can you be more specific? No, I can’t even use your kitchen now, or…?”

“I…” he gulps. “I want to try. Today, that is.”

To say that Taehyung’s flabbergasted is a euphemism. “Really?” he asks, just to be sure, and the athlete nods. “Are you sure? You don’t look or sound very sure. Are you being forced to do this or something?”

“No one can fucking force me into something that I don’t want to do. Get on with it before I change my mind.”

Taehyung nods. “Hm, there you are.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You like it when I’m mean?”

“Fuck no, but it means that you’re sane.” Jungkook just rolls his eyes, and Taehyung has to keep himself from smirking as he clears his throat. “Now, say please.”

“Excuse you—?!”

“I had made up my mind to leave you alone and give up on this. That, paired with the knowledge that you threw a glass at me, leaves me needing either a ‘please’ or a sincere apology from you.” he shrugs. “Pick one or the other.”

“I didn’t throw it at you, and I’m not apologizing.”

“Then say please.”

“No.” Jungkook quickly says.

“Well, then we’re not doing anything.”

“You have to. It’s your job.” Taehyung crosses his arms, looking away from him, and Jungkook blinks up at him. “I don’t fucking use that word, people just do what I want them to. I’m paying you, do your damn job.”

“You don’t use that word?” he mocks. “Then I can’t wait to know that I’ll be bruising your ego when you say it… That, if you want anything to happen.”

“Ok, bye, I’ve changed my m—” Taehyung holds the backrest of his wheelchair when he turns around. “Let go of me right in this instance.” he demands. “Let go.”

“Don’t be a coward.” the doctor rolls his eyes. “Either apologize for how you’ve behaved with me from the start, or ask me nicely to forgive and forget. I’ve been too nice to you when I should’ve given up on the first insult. Do it.”

Jungkook bites down on his teeth so hard that the elder can see the strain on his jaw. All in all, it’s fairly entertaining to watch him fuss over something so simple. “I’m not sorry, and you weren’t nice, either.”

“Understandable. Ask me nicely, then.”

The silence extends for a few seconds, and Taehyung can almost hear the war of thoughts in the other’s head, but then there’s a sigh. “Can you do your job?”

“That’s not enough.”

“Can you please do your job?” oh, Taehyung’s going to remember this for a long time, and he’ll most likely laugh at it every single time. He can’t laugh now, even if that’s the reaction that Jungkook expected.

Instead, he just starts pushing the wheelchair without a word, guiding him to the massage table. Jungkook feels his skin crawl, absolutely horrified that he had to get such a word out — he really wants to work on changing his situation, otherwise he would’ve told the doctor to go to hell and would’ve left without hesitation.

Taehyung slides his arm under Jungkook’s knees and around his back, hoisting him up to lay him down, and the athlete just watches as he goes get his bag.

“What do I… have to do?” he quietly asks.

“Nothing, you just have to lie there and do nothing. For now, I mean.” Taehyung explains, putting the bag down by the bed. He gets a new pair of gloves, looking over at his patient as he starts putting them on. “We’ll do massages, use equipment to deep-massage your muscles, use ultrasound machines to heal and try to stimulate your muscles back to function… It’s a process. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take, because it works differently for every patient, and most people don’t wait a month to start working on their recovery.”

Jungkook looks away when the other starts removing his sweatpants. “Are you serious right now? Was that last part really necessary?”

“Very much so.” Taehyung nods, halting when he looks at Jungkook’s thigh. “You have quite a big bruise here.”

“It’s from when I fell.” he mumbles.

“Have you put anything on it?” he asks as he folds the sweatpants to put them away, eyes never leaving the other’s face so not to miss his reactions.

Jungkook meets his eyes, unimpressed. “Don’t do this shit, don’t do small talk. Do your job and that’s it. We are not friends, and I can’t stand you. Do your thing and I’ll bear it for today. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Taehyung blinks. “That’s actually perfect for me. I don’t have to act like I want to talk to you.” he quickly throws back.

“You’re a fucking asshole, did you know that?”

“I serve you in the same coin that you give me. How does that make me an asshole and not you?” Taehyung asks as he starts massaging Jungkook’s thigh, his sole attention focused on it. He must work extra hard if he wants to see any improvement, given how long it took for them to start.

“I’ve never said that I’m not.” Jungkook shrugs.

“So, you think that it’s ok for you to be an asshole, but it’s wrong when others don’t treat you like a mighty princess?"

Jungkook’s face shifts into one of both anger and shock, and he truly can’t believe his ears. “I’d seriously fucking kick your fucking throat right now if I could.”

“Hm, you’re so scary.” Taehyung nods, absentminded. He can see, from the corner of his eye, Jungkook’s mouth opening for him to complain some more, so he’s faster to speak. “No small talk, let me focus.” he quiets him.

Jungkook presses his lips together into a thin, disapproving line, and Taehyung does his best not to snort at how offended he seems to have gotten.

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  It’s been 20 minutes and I’m still hung up on the fact that he said that I make people treat me like a princess. What the FUCK is wrong with him, like, seriously…
|  I keep watching his hands and I don’t feel them on my legs even though I can SEE it.
|  It’s so fucking weird, it’s like I’m looking at someone else’s body, not my own
|  I hate this. I hate this so much

Taehyung quietly hums a song to himself as he continues applying the right amount of pressure now on the athlete’s calf, and he looks up, confused, when he hears a little sore coming from the other.

He takes a second to check whether Jungkook’s asleep or not, and he’s positively surprised when he realizes that, yes, he’s gone out during the massage. Jungkook looks far more peaceful like this — when he’s quiet and asleep instead of spewing insults and arrogant words that Taehyung really does not deserve.

Taehyung chuckles, focusing back on his massage, taking a quick glance at the watch on his wrist; he’s set an alarm to let him know when the session is over, and he’s upset to find that it won’t take much longer for it to go off — he wishes that he could work on it for longer.

He continues the massage on both of Jungkook’s legs, stretching them a little, too, for about ten more minutes, before his watch beeps as the alarm goes off. He presses a small button to turn it off, and steps back to store his things back in the bag.

After discarding his gloves, he walks closer to the table to slowly nudge Jungkook’s shoulder in order to wake him up. He frowns when that’s not enough, so he does it a little harder, paired with a call of his name.

That seems to do it — Jungkook wakes up startled, and Taehyung can’t even process his hand moving until he feels it grip his wrist. “Fucking Christ, let go.”

Jungkook blinks, looking around as he starts properly regaining his conscience, and finally lets go of his wrist. “You should know better than to startle a man when he’s asleep.” he mumbles, voice groggy.

“Noted. Next time, I’ll just let you sleep and wake up when you roll over and fall face-first on the floor.”

“You’re insufferable.” Jungkook insults.

Taehyung breathes in and out, unwilling to let him get to him. “I’m content with the fact that you accepted this first session, Mr. Jeon. I hope that, next time that I come over, you won’t tell me to ‘suit myself’ and will agree to a second session. As you can see, you don’t even have to do anything, and can just… take a nap.”

Jungkook looks at him for a few seconds in silence before looking away. “If this doesn’t work out, I’ll resent you for the rest of my life. I hope that you know that.”

“If this doesn’t work out, you only have yourself to blame.” Taehyung disagrees, moving to put his sweatpants back on, but Jungkook holds a hand out to stop him.

“I can do it.” he says.

“Jeon, last time y—”

“She taught me. I did it this morning.” Jungkook informs, and he can see surprise behind Taehyung’s eyes. Instead of commenting, he simply hands over the sweatpants and gestures for him to go for it.

Taehyung stands by his side, watching as he does what his nurse taught him earlier in the morning, though with some struggle. The massage table isn’t nearly as spacious as his California king-sized bed, and he can feel Taehyung’s stare this time around.

No one can do things right when being watched.

“Use your other hand there.” Taehyung suggests.

“Huh?”

“Hook your leg on your other hand, it’s easier. You can do it, c’mon.” he encourages, and Jungkook gives him a bothered look before doing as told. He puckers his lips, realizing how easier and faster it is like this.

He silently curses his nurse for not teaching him such a trick, one that would avoid the embarrassment of struggling in front of Taehyung, of all people.

“Why did you tell my cook that you broke the glass yourself?” Jungkook asks out of nowhere, unable to hold that question in for longer. He had to ask him.

“Did you want me to tell her what happened?”

“No.”

“Then you’re welcome.” Taehyung shrugs, zipping up his bag and Jungkook rolls his eyes; that didn’t answer anything, and he hates it. Taehyung has some nerve.

“I’m not thanking you.” he has to make it clear.

“I’d never expect you to.” the doctor chuckles, stepping closer to slide a hand under his knees but, again, the younger man holds his hand out to stop him. “Alright.”

Jungkook is careful when changing to his chair, unwilling to let himself fall once again, and Taehyung fights himself not to even hold the chair in place to help. He always feels his fingers tingling to help his patients even with the smallest, simplest tasks

He flings his bag over his shoulder, beginning to push the wheelchair to leave the gym and, to his utmost surprise, Jungkook doesn’t fight him on that. Taehyung pushes him all the way to his bedroom, only stopping by the door, and he knows better than to offer to get him to bed; he knows how much Jungkook hates it when he goes into his room. It’s weird, he believes.

“You did well today.” he praises, honest.

“I didn’t do shit, stop lying just t—”

“Ok, my time’s over here. Goodbye.” Taehyung safely locks the wheelchair before turning around on his heels to get out of there without another word, but he does smile after taking a few steps. That went better than what he had imagined their first session to end up as. Granted, that might’ve been because Jungkook wasn’t awake to bother him or insult him and his skills.

He can only hope that Jungkook will have the same will to work on his recovery the next time that he goes over, because one session alone is close to nothing.

He’ll just have to wait and see.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“…I’d add more pepper.” Yoongi suggests as he takes yet another taste of the sauce, and hums with a quick nod. “Yeah, more pepper will make it perfect.”

“Alright.” Taehyung grabs the condiment, adding some more to the pot. “I have something important to tell you.”

“Oh? What is it about?” his best friend asks, resting his hip against the kitchen counter by his side. “Work?”

“Sort of.” he nods, stirring the sauce before putting down the wooden spoon to face him. “You know that you can’t tell anyone about this, yeah? I’d get sued to my last possession. To my last fucking cent.”

“So, it’s about Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I know that I can’t tell anyone, don’t worry. I wouldn’t even dream about sharing what you tell me… What’s wrong, though? Any change in the horrid situation that you two are in, or…? Any new insults discovered by either of you to insult the other?” he asks, quite entertained.

“You won’t believe.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “I got there, super fucking fed up with the whole situation, I wasn’t even going to try to get him to work today, and he was the one telling me that he wanted to.”

“What? Are you serious? You had a session?”

“Yeah. I hope that he really is as tough as you all make him out to be, because this long-ass time without doing anything about the problem would affect anyone that dared wait a fucking month to start. I hate him, but I really want to see him stand up on his own again.”

“Do you really think that it’s possible…?”

“I’ve seen people in far worse conditions regain their walk, yes. They might not be able to run a marathon, but they’re able to walk by themselves. Depending on the case, some need a walking stick or so, but others don’t. This idiot, on the other hand, I have no idea. He should’ve started when he got out of the hospital.”

Yoongi sighs. “I still think that he should have counseling. A therapist, or something. His thoughts must be killing him when he’s all alone in his room.”

“I’ve told him that, and he just said that he’s Jeon Jungkook. Whatever the fuck that means.”

“It means that he’s too prideful to accept that even the strongest men need to talk to someone.” Yoongi shrugs, walking over to the island so that he can sit on one of the stools. “If you ever manage to convince him, put in the good word for me. Tell him that you know an amazing psychiatrist that will work for free.”

“You’d work for free?”

“Yes. For him, yes.”

Taehyung grimaces. “You repulse me.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m joking… I think. How was the session, though? Tell me about it, I want every detail.”

“He slept through it, so it was peaceful. I stretched him a bit, massaged him, and it was just a start. We’ll only get somewhere if he keeps the attitude up, and accepts a session the next time.” he shrugs. “Would you like to know the best part? It’s my favorite about this whole thing, serious… Fucking gold.”

“What?”

“I made him have to ask for it.” Taehyung shares, only to snort, which soon turns into a proper laugh. “I can’t believe it still, it must’ve bruised his ego so fucking much, and I love it. I hope that it makes him cringe for a week straight every time that he remembers.”

“You’re joking, right?” but he laughs more, shaking his head. “I need you to elaborate on that, please.”

“I told him that he either had to apologize, or that he’d have to say ‘please’ for me to agree to the session, and after bickering some more, he ended up saying it.”

“This is amazing.” Yoongi chuckles, finding it hard to believe. “He’s going to need even more therapy after having to ask you for anything.” he jokes. Taehyung opens his mouth to answer, but closes it, lips instead spreading in a little smile when they hear Jiwoon giggling in his room with Miyun. “You two have gotten very close again, I’ve noticed it even more today…”

“We’re very comfortable right now… You know, I’m very scared for whenever I find someone, or she finds someone. I really don’t know how Jiwoon is going to deal with that. He’s been asking questions…”

“He’s a very smart and curious boy, so it’s not a surprise that he asks you about this stuff.” Taehyung sighs. “Why don’t you two try again? You’re very comfortable again, and you could try for him… Maybe it’d work out.”

“You know that we didn’t not work out, Yoon. I can’t look at her that way anymore, not after what she did, I can’t. I have a lot of respect and adoration for her, she’s like a best friend, and she’s a good mom to my boy, but I can’t forget. I may have forgiven, but I won’t forget. I can’t look at her that way, I can’t try again.”

“I understand, really, I do. I don’t think that I’d even forgive, so you’re a way better person than I am.” Yoongi chuckles, tapping the stool next to him in a silent invitation for Taehyung to sit down. “You should go on a date with someone, you’re too stressed with work and Jiwoon, and everything. You’re turning twenty-six this year, this is the best time to live your love life. You lost your twenties just being a dad…”

“I didn’t lose them, I’ve always been very happy with my little one and my friends and coworkers.” Taehyung corrects. “I wish that he had come a little later in life, but I don’t regret it, and I’m very happy to have the life that I have.”

“I didn’t even know what I was doing with life at seventeen, and you were having a whole kid. Much respect to you, seriously.” Yoongi pats his back, only to be swatted away with a tsk. “Alright, sorry.”

“Just go call them for dinner… I need a long bath after this, I had a long day. I’ll ask Miyun to put him to bed and I’ll just go to bed early myself. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I’ll play with the kid for a bit, then I’ll go.”

“You’re the best.”

“That, I know.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

It’s late at night when Jungkook’s in bed with his phone, and staring at the picture of Jimin’s contact right on the screen. He had a better day today, and it might have been because of the session, his subconscious telling him that he’s finally doing something since he left the hospital, and he wants to talk to his best friend about it.

He knows what that entails, though. He’d have to tell his friend about his condition to be able to tell him about the session. He doesn't want Jimin to know.

Jimin would be supportive, Yugyeom would be supportive, and he knows that much, but something in him doesn’t let him press the call button. He’s ashamed of his situation, ashamed of the position that he’s in and he just doesn’t want to tell them about it. It’s far too humiliating.

It’s all that people seem to talk about once they know, too. His parents, and even Hoseok — when they call that’s all that they ask about, and Jungkook hates it. He wants to forget, ignore; anything but acknowledge.

With a sigh, he closes his contacts, and opens social media instead. Searching his name on Twitter has become an activity that he doesn’t pride on, but he’s too curious not to. It angers him to no end, but still.

Tonight, however, he finds himself typing.

TWITTER

|  Jeon ✔️ (@jjk)
|  Today was a better day since the accident. Also, big fuck off to everyone speculating shit about me, especially the ones saying that I’m actually dead. Mind your fucking business.

|  ──  0% patience left 🔒 (@uncleyoongi)
|  ──  @notae I wonder why he had a better day today

|  ────  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  ────  How does anyone like him, Jesus

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

NOTIFICATIONS

Smol: I just saw your tweet… I’m glad that you’re feeling better today! I miss you, and I hope that you text me soon. Sleep well, Kook.

Kim (Sore Loser) Yugyeom: Just seen the loml tweeting after a month hiding :o Now seriously, I'm happy to know that you had a better day today. Jimin and I are patiently waiting for you to be ready to talk to us about whatever that is going on. Take your time… We’re here.

Hoseok (Manager): Good to see that you’re feeling better! I’ll call you tomorrow to catch up on how you’re doing! Please, stop insulting people publicly, though! We have an image to maintain :D

Missed call from ‘Mom’.

Chapter Text

Taehyung hums a song to himself as he collects his belongings, sure not to be too loud as he knows, for a fact, that Jungkook’s garages must be filled with security cameras. Especially the other one, where the athlete keeps his cars and motorcycles.

He flings the bag over his shoulder, putting in the right code to open the door so that he can go in. “Mr. Kim, hey.” he hears right away, and he’s a little startled to be met with Jungkook’s home-nurse after taking barely a step into the house. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks for asking… Are you?”

“Oh, I’m quite alright.” she nods with a smile. “I’m just letting you know that you won’t have a session today. I was meant to call so that you wouldn’t have the trouble of coming here for nothing, but Mr. Jeon told me to tell you personally, for some reason…”

For some reason, Taehyung thinks. It makes him want to laugh, because he knows that Jungkook only said that so that he’d be an inconvenience in his day. He wants to laugh, and maybe break one or two of his expensive decorations, before leaving.

“Hm, right. Can I ask why we’re not having a session?”

“He said that he’s under the weather.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Did you confirm that?”

“I have no reasons to doubt what he says. Besides, between me and you, he’s a little… intimidating, isn’t he? I don’t want him to think that +'m doubting his words or something like that. I believe him, then.”

“I’ll go check on him before I leave.” Taehyung informs, starting to walk away, thus missing the alarm in her eyes as she watches him ahead to the hallways.

“He doesn’t like having people in his room!” she warns.

“I’m aware of that.” he waves a dismissive hand, not stopping until he reaches the athlete’s room. He knocks twice, listening attentively until he hears a faint indicator that he can go in, and he’s not even surprised to find Jungkook watching a movie with a bowl of cherry-tomatoes on his lap. “This is you being under the weather, huh?” he asks.

Jungkook’s hand stops on the way to take another tomato to his mouth, not at all expecting any kind of interaction with the doctor today. “Was I unclear?”

“Your nurse might be too intimidated to come and check on whether you’re actually having an off day, but I’m not. Were you avoiding the session?” Taehyung waits for an answer, but Jungkook simply shoves another little tomato into his mouth, eyes drifting to his laptop, resting on the bed by his side. “Jungkook.” he calls.

“Don’t call me by my name.” the athlete immediately reprehends, and Taehyung’s too tired of the fights to say anything regarding such a request. “I didn’t see any improvement after the other session, you’re wasting my time here. You can just go, you don’t even have to sit in my kitchen, since everyone knows that—”

“Are you crazy?” Taehyung has to interrupt. “You don’t see improvement, because you can’t possibly improve after fifty minutes of doing something that you avoided for a month. You have to put in the work, you have to keep going, and then you’ll see improvement.” he explains what he thought to be obvious. “Didn’t you act like you just know everything after googling for ten minutes? I’m pretty sure that, between all the lies, there were mentions of how long this might take. You know it.”

“I don’t like it when things don’t work from the start. I have to get great results from the very first—”

“Were you good at boxing from the first day that you put your gloves on? Did you grow your muscles after going to the gym once?” Jungkook does look away from the laptop then, meeting his eyes. Two good points have been made, and it bothers him.

“But—” he stops himself right away, and it’s the first time that Taehyung sees him at a loss for words, but there’s nothing that he could possibly say to that.

“But…?” Taehyung encourages. Jungkook looks away again. Taehyung can see the war of thoughts going on in his head, and he simply waits until he speaks.

Jungkook goes over everything that happened, recalls the stupidly humiliating fall that he had, alone in his bedroom, and he sighs. “Fine.” he finally gives in. “I need a minute to change, I’m in my pajamas.”

“I’ll take your pants off, either way, so it doesn’t really matter. Put your rabbit food away, and get on your chair.” Taehyung instructs, already rolling the chair closer to the bed. “C’mon, get started. Time here is time wasted.” the athlete simply stares, still holding the bowl. “What—? Do you have your Hello Kitty pajamas on?” Taehyung teases, but his face is stoic and Jungkook rolls his eyes, finally putting the bowl down on the bedside table so that he can push the sheets away with his hand.

‘Pajamas’ turns out to be a simple pair of sweatpants and no socks, so Taehyung’s glad that he didn’t listen, because they’d waste time for him to change from one pair of sweatpants onto another.

Jungkook’s able to get on the chair without help, and the doctor doesn’t hesitate before he starts pushing him out of his room. “I was enjoying the movie.” he mumbles, eyes on his bare feet that he tries to wiggle, but to no avail. “It was getting interesting.”

“I’m actually doing you a favor by making you leave that excuse for popcorn behind.” Taehyung jokes but, just like before, he remains serious, his tone unimpressed.

“I don’t eat popcorn. Too much sugar.”

“Sugar is good in a controlled quantity.”

“There’s sugar in tomatoes.” Jungkook argues.

“For my own sake, I’ll just ignore that.” Taehyung decides, focusing on the task at hand. Luckily for him, Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, either. He’d for sure lose a brain cell or two if he had to listen to him making sense out of his crazy diet. Tomatoes instead of popcorn? Might just be the craziest thing that he’s heard.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook watches as Taehyung gets everything ready before approaching him, and he’s more cooperative this time around when the doctor goes to pick him up.

Taehyung doesn’t look small in the slightest and, if he were to stand, Jungkook’s sure that the doctor may even have two or three centimeters on him, but it’s still surprising that he’s able to pick him up. He knows how heavy he is.

“You can sleep, if you so please.” Taehyung tells him as he reaches for the strings of his sweatpants, pulling them open right away. “You’re easier to work with when you’re asleep.” he adds before he can stop himself.

“Then you have the fucking bravery of saying that I’m the rude one. You’re always trying to pick up a fucking fight with me.”

“I’m just saying that you’re undeniably nicer when you’re asleep.” Jungkook’s lips press into a thin line, his fist closed in a tight ball as he watches the doctor get rid of his sweatpants. “So, just sleep again.”

“Fuck off.” and Taehyung can recognize how, this time around, he kind of deserves it. He did start it this once. He neatly folds Jungkook’s pants, putting them aside so that he can start today’s session.

“It’s part of protocol that I tell you what we’ll do, so: I’m going to stretch your legs a lot today, and I’ll massage them for the remaining time. It won’t happen today but, needless to say that if you ever feel my hands, you have to tell me. Do you understand?”

“I’m not fucking stupid, of course I understand.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You’re really fucking insufferable.”

“Then why don’t you quit?” the way that the question sounds, it seems as though he’s been wanting to ask if for a while now, which is fairly surprising. “You can.”

“I know that I can.” he shrugs. “It’ll be very rewarding when I see you stand up again, though. I don’t give up on patients, no matter how difficult they are. I may strongly dislike you, and you may strongly dislike me, but that doesn’t change my commitment to your recovery. So, if you can find it in yourself, stop giving me a hard time, when I’m only helping you.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to answer, but finds that he has nothing to say against that, so he closes it again, simply focusing on the way that Taehyung’s hands move on his legs to stretch them. He folds his knee, unfolds it, pushes his thigh up, only to stretch the whole leg; but he’s gentle with it. Unlike his words.

The athlete sighs, looking up at the ceiling and positively giving up on bickering for today. Well, for now, at least. He can’t feel the hands, but can feel the way that the rest of his body is either pushed or pulled along with the stretches, and it’s weird.

It’s so weird. Knowing that the hands are there, seeing the hands there, yet not feeling a single touch. He doesn’t want to live like this forever, he can’t just not feel anything ever again. He can’t be attached to his stupid chair for how many years that he has left. This has to work.

He curses himself off internally for how long it took him to accept this, accept that he should and has to be helped in order to get better. He shouldn’t have waited so long, and he kind of hates himself for it.

“…the public?” he hears, and he has to shake his head to focus back on his surroundings as he was far too lost in his thoughts.

“What?” he looks down, puzzled.

It takes one look into his eyes for Taehyung to know that he didn’t hear his question. “What you meant to say was, ‘can you please repeat that’.” he corrects, and he really feels as though he’s talking to Jiwoon. “I was just asking you why you’re hiding this from the public.”

“Because it’s none of their business.”

“Fair enough… What are you going to do when they see you outside, though? You can’t live in a lie forever.”

Jungkook looks back up at the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as he thinks that through. He doesn’t like that thought, he doesn’t like to imagine ever being seen in public in such a state; he doesn’t think that he’ll ever leave his house until he gets better.

For that reason, his answer is everything but polite. “I thought that we had agreed to no bullshit small talk.” is what he goes with, not only to avoid this one question but to prevent any other from coming. “Just be quiet.”

“As you wish.” Taehyung doesn’t insist, as he’s not really that interested, either way. He glances up, and he can see that the question left the other thinking, so he just allows the silence to settle as he focuses.

It’s good when Jungkook thinks. He should think about his new reality and his condition, because ignoring it is not the answer, and has only done him worse. If Taehyung can leave him wondering, thinking, then he will ask whatever that he can.

“Have you even told anyone?” he asks after a while.

Jungkook worries at his bottom lip. “No, I haven’t.”

“You shouldn’t deal with this shit by yourself. You should either surround yourself with your friends and a good support system, or you should really think about starting to see a psychologist or—”

“My head’s ok, I don’t need any of that.”

Taehyung sighs. “If you say so.” again, he glances up, and he can see the younger man thinking, so he allows the silence to carry on the questions that he holds in — for now, for today. Maybe next time, he’ll ask something else.

The session goes on as the previous one: they remain silent, but Jungkook isn’t able to sleep this time. He can’t stop thinking about the one question that he’s been avoiding, because he didn’t even consider going outside like his, so no one would ever find out. But what if they do?

He doesn’t want to imagine that.

“You’re all done for today.” Taehyung informs, and he’s surprised to see just how long it’s been since they started. “Your legs are stretching well, which is good news. Your muscles could have shrunk, could’ve atrophied quite significantly during this past month. I think that we’re lucky that you’re in good shape.”

“Hand me my pants.” Jungkook instructs instead of answering the compliment, and Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “My pants.” he repeats.

“I’m not your maid, Jeon. If you want me to hand you your pants, then politely ask me to do so.” he reprehends, crossing his arms when he’s met with silence. “It’s basic human decency. I’m sure that your parents have taught you how to ask for things.”

“Would you mind handing me my pants?” Jungkook repeats, almost through his teeth. He hates how he can see the doctor fighting a smile.

“No, I wouldn’t mind.” Taehyung politely answers back, reaching for the sweatpants to hand them over. “I’ll also let your nurse know that you’re no longer feeling ‘under the weather’, since she’s so intimidated to ask.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “She’s not intimidated.”

“She said that she is.” he shrugs. “You’re so fucking nice to people that no one even wants to look at you wrong. I don’t know how or why you’d want that.”

“It’s good that they’re too intimidated to bother me. I fucking wish that you were intimidated, too, so that you’d leave me the fuck alone.” Jungkook complains as he puts on his pants, using the trick that Taehyung taught him last time; it’s so much easier now.

“Hm. I also wish for a lot of things that won’t come true.” Taehyung mocks, watching his every move lest he need help. “Here you go…” he encourages him to continue, putting the chair closer to him. Jungkook changes to it rather easily.

“I can go on my own, you can leave.” he dismisses.

“Are you sure?” Taehyung checks, and the athlete just nods before starting to roll out of the gym. “Well, see you in two days, Jeon.” he still bids his goodbyes, even if they go unanswered, ignored. “Anyway…”

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I can barely contain the annoyance and anger in me, I want to scream at him
|  “Your parents have taught you—” how about fuck you
|  Why does he keep treating me like I’m just a regular person when I can ruin his life with a tweet
|  I won’t. But I could

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  This is so fucking FUNNY oh the famous guy doesn’t know what it’s like to have to ask for things

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook’s once again looking for another movie to watch, when the screen of his laptop freezes with an incoming call. Jimin’s contact name is on the screen alongside Yugyeom’s, and he picks it up. They’ve tried calling many times before, and it’s the first time in a month that he accepts the video call.

He can see on their faces how surprised they are.

“Hello.” he greets, his tone quiet.

“Holy fuck, you actually picked up this time.” Yugyeom voices with a large grin on his face. “Hey, man. We’ve missed your face.”

“How are you, Jungkook? Seriously.” Jimin asks with a small pout.

“I’m… getting by.” Jungkook decides to be honest, his eyes shifting to the chair resting by his bed. “I know that I’ve been the shittiest friend lately, and I know that you guys are worried about me, but— but don’t be. I’ll eventually tell you everything, I’m just not ready for that yet.”

“What aren’t you ready for, though? Our reaction?”

“No, that’s not it. I know you guys enough to know that you’ll go out of your ways to be supportive and— and try to help. I just don’t want this to be a known fact.”

“But this what?” Jimin asks, a little frustrated. “We don’t understand what’s wrong with you, Kook. One moment you’re on the news because you punched a paparazzi, the other we don’t even know if you’re alive… You haven’t been fair with us. We’re worried sick, and we don’t even know what to worry about exactly.”

“I—”

“You backed off from the championship without telling us, and your official statement didn't explain anything, so you're hiding something from everyone. We understand hiding whatever it is from the public, but we're your best friends, Kook, and we're very worried about you.”

Jungkook rubs his eyes. “I got injured in the accident.”

“We thought so… What kind of injury? Are your hands ok? Did you break a foot or a rib or some shit? You’re hiding because you’re upset that you had to give up on this year’s championship, right? Whatever it is that you broke in the accident, will be fixed next year, Kook. You can try again next year.” Jimin smiles, encouraging.

“Exactly. You can beat my ass in the ring next year again, and go until the end, again. Except next year, you’ll get to the final, and you’ll take another belt h—”

“It’s career-ending.” he interrupts his friend, and the absolute horror and shock on their faces makes him have to look away from the screen. “There won’t be next year for me. My career is over, I-l have to hang the gloves.”

His eyes water, and he truly hopes that they can’t see it, because he refuses to cry about it again. It’s harder to admit than he thought. Saying those words is so much harder than anything that he’s ever done.

“W-What do you mean?” Jimin stutters.

“Did you somehow damage your hands during the crash?” Yugyeom asks, his voice thinner than ever before. “That can’t be right…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” he shakes his head, closing his eyes tight. “I shouldn’t even have said anything about this. Act as if you don’t know anything, I’m really not fucking ready to talk about it.”

“Jungkook, you shouldn’t be dealing with this by yourself, and we hope that you’re seeing people about it. W-We understand how much you must be going through right now, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my legs, or if Yugyeom lost his hands… and we don’t know what happened to you, but know that we’re here for you whenever you decide to open up to us.”

Jungkook gulps. “I have to go.”

“Kook, c’mon—” but he hits the red circle, the call closing and disappearing from his screen. His eyes well up again, and he throws the laptop away, not caring about where it lands. He hugs his pillow when the first tear rolls down. He didn’t mean to tell them anything, especially not something so revealing.

Career-ending, he said. It’s true, yet it makes his chest feel so incredibly tight that it’s hard to breathe. He can’t believe that such words came out of his mouth.

“F-Fuck…” he sobs, covering his face so that he can, maybe, make himself stop crying, but he can’t. The days that he sees Taehyung are already overwhelming as it is, days that he’s forced to acknowledge his situation, but telling someone else about it is even worse. Especially such close friends.

He just wants to perish. He wants it all to stop.

It’s too much for him, too much for his sanity.

He feels close to a breaking point. It’s scary, because he doesn’t know what will happen when he does break. It’s scarier, because he doesn’t know who will be around.

He can’t break in front of anyone. He just can’t.

Chapter Text

Taehyung finishes parking in Jungkook’s garage when his phone pings with a new text that he learns to be from Miyun asking him to call her as soon as he saw it. He furrows his brows, puzzled, but calls her right away all the while turning off the engine.

“Tae, my God.” Miyun says without even greeting him, and the stress is evident in her voice, which is more concerning than anything. “Jiwoon’s teacher just called. He got into a fight at school. He threw a pencil case at another kid during class and was yelling at him that he’d ‘punch him’, when the teacher managed to stop them.”

“What—?!” Taehyung lets out. “Why on earth would he do something like that?!”

“I have no clue. The teachers can’t get anything out of him and, apparently, he’s not talking to his classmates, either.” she explains, and he can’t believe his ears.

“This is too fucking weird, he would never do that.”

“I know, it’s so out of character. I don’t even know what to think about this… or what to do, really. He’s never been violent, I don’t know what to do.” Miyun stresses.

“This is because of the shit that he watches on television, I know it. I told you that some bullshit like this would end up happening one day or the other when he idolizes that fucking idiot.” Taehyung tries to keep his voice low, unsure of how good the cameras are in the garage; he’s insulting the owner of the house. “He’s so grounded.”

“We should hear him out first… Maybe the other kid started it.”

“That’s still no reason to fight someone.”

“I know… but still. We’re raising him to be kind, he wouldn’t just do that shit. We need to talk to him before deciding how severely we’ll act or what we’ll do about it…”

“Fine. I’ll pick him up and you’ll meet us at my place. I swear that if I hear any boxer name come out of his mouth, he’ll never watch television again. I mean it.” Taehyung states, and he’s more than sure about what he’s saying.

Miyun sighs. “I’m sure that something happened. Our boy wouldn’t just do that.”

“Let’s wait and see. I have to go now, I just got to Jeon’s place.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” they bid their goodbyes, and Taehyung ends the call just in time to see an email coming in from Jiwoon’s teacher. He can’t possibly answer it now, so he won’t even try to read or he’ll get angrier. He sighs, rubbing his eyes to breathe in for a moment, as he doesn’t want his lack of patience to get the best of him right away, or he’ll for sure have a fight with Jungkook as soon as he sees him.

It takes him about two minutes to have gathered himself enough to get out of the car, his bag already flung over his shoulder. He types in the door’s password, waiting for the already familiar sound of the locks being undone, and he’s a little startled to be met with the in-home nurse right away — standing there, waiting for him.

“Hello, Mr. Kim.” she bows, action which he immediately mirrors. “I’m here to inform you that Mr. Jeon can’t attend your session today. He asked me to tell you…”

His smile falls into a rather bored expression. “What’s the excuse for today?” is what he asks, already knowing that Jungkook, most likely, didn’t even give an explanation to justify why he doesn’t want to attend.

“Oh, he’s busy… I don’t know with what, as I didn’t even ask, but that’s what he told me, so I’m telling you what I know…” she elaborates.

“I’ll go see that for myself, thank you.” Taehyung offers a polite smile, bowing yet again before walking past her. He’s truly not in the mood to deal with Jungkook and his antics, but they were getting somewhere, and he’s not about to allow the athlete to just refuse treatment again. He won’t let that happen

Knocking twice on the bedroom door, he doesn’t even bother to wait for permission to open it. Jungkook meets his eyes right away, looking somewhat like a deer caught in headlights; he didn’t expect Taehyung to go there.

“This is our fifth session, Jeon, I thought that we were already set at an agreement.” he says, arms crossed over his broad chest. “What’s the excuse today—”

“Shut up, you’re distracting me.” Jungkook mumbles, eyes once again set on the television. Taehyung follows them, not even trying to hide his surprise.

“You’re watching a runway show?” Taehyung asks, but a few seconds of silence go by with no answer from the other. “I asked you a question.” he adds.

“And I chose not to answer it.”

“Stop being an ass.” the doctor reprehends.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “My best friend is walking today. I always watch him.” he explains, keeping it as brief as possible, and Taehyung hums with a nod.

“How do you manage to make friends with that horrid personality? Do you pay them to hang out with you?” the moment that the words get past his lips and Jungkook’s eyes meet his, he feels bad. “Ok, I’m sorry this time, you didn’t eve—”

“Why do you always have a fucking stick up your ass?” Taehyung kind of wants to laugh, because he did insult the athlete unprovoked, and Jungkook’s right to complain this time around. Only this time around, though.

“I am sorry for this one, and I shall not say that you’re the one that always has a stick up their ass, for the sake of not fueling this further.” Jungkook’s lips press into a thin line, and Taehyung can see him breathe in and out before looking back to the television. The silence after that extends for a few seconds.

Uncomfortable silence.

Taehyung clears his throat. “I can stretch you here—”

“You shouldn’t even be here right now, so don’t even think about staying here for an hour, it’s simply not happening.” Jungkook says right away, interrupting him.

“What the fuck is up with you and your room, anyway?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “That’s none of your goddamn business. Leave me alone, and leave my room. My nurse was very clear when she told you that I wasn’t going to be participating today. I’m fucking busy.”

“No.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘no’?”

“I’ll move your television to the gym, or we can have our session in the living room, with you on the couch. I don’t care, Jeon, you’re not missing a session now that we’ve been doing them accordingly.” Jungkook looks at him, silent, as if contemplating. “I’ve told you that I care a lot about your recovery, so nothing will make me leave this bedroom right now, unless you’re coming with me to do what you must do.” he adds.

Jungkook groans. “Fine, we can go to the living room.”

Taehyung holds in a smile, taking a step back so that the athlete can throw his sheets away and reach for the wheelchair resting by the side of the bed. There’s still that small itch in him to help, but he knows very well that Jungkook can do it himself, and he wouldn’t be helping if he tried to do it for him, so he doesn’t.

Once on the chair, he glares at Taehyung. “After you.”

The doctor hums, turning on his heels. “Let’s get going, then. We’ve already lost a few precious minutes with this shit.” he says as he walks up to the door.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, not even answering him as he starts pushing himself to follow the elder, wanting to get to the living room as quickly as possible so that he doesn’t miss Jimin walking the runway. He’s missed a couple of shows already and, even if he can’t be there in person, he’ll at least watch from home.

He’ll always support his best friends. He misses them, too.

Jungkook stops the wheelchair by the couch, getting on top of it rather easily; he’s getting better at doing things by himself, even if he despises it. He shouldn’t have to grow familiar with any of this.

Once there, he turns on the television, changing it to the right channel as he waits for Taehyung to come back from the gym with whatever it is that he needs.

“Alright, I’m here.” Taehyung speaks up in the spacious living room — that he tries not to compare to his own flat as he’s almost sure that this room alone is bigger than the entirety of his apartment. “Are you ready?”

“If you stain this couch with your creams, I’ll fucking end you.” Jungkook warns, watching as the other strides over to his side. He’s not very sure of how it’ll work out, given that the couch isn’t anywhere as tall as the massage table that they use, and Taehyung surely won’t be bent over for an hour working on his legs.

“I’m sure that you can afford a new one if you save up a bit.” Taehyung says as he settles his bag on the floor and a small machine on the coffee table, and Jungkook can’t even hide the pure annoyance that he feels upon hearing those words. How dare he?

“I don’t fucking need to save up.” he informs, his eyebrows scrunched together in an offended frown that makes Taehyung want to laugh. His words had the desired effect, and he’s very much satisfied with that.

“Even better, then, you don’t have to worry about stains.” Taehyung shrugs, but Jungkook doesn’t have the time to say anything given that the doctor swiftly gets a towel from his bag. “Don’t worry about your couch, I’m not that stupid… I thought of that.”

“It’s designer, I can’t have it ruined.” he mumbles. “You can’t just fucking replicate something like it. I understand if you don’t comprehend this, but it’s how it is.”

“Right, because I’m not a fucking billionaire like you, I don’t understand basic things, you’re so right.” Taehyung nods, sarcastic.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a billionaire.”

“I don’t give a shit, actually. If you’re so worried about your designer couch, then put police tape around it so that no one sits on it.” the doctor complains as he gets on his knees by the couch, and Jungkook can’t say that he’s not surprised by the gesture.

Taehyung will be kneeling the whole session just so that he can watch television and see his best friend?

His sweatpants are discarded soon enough, and he keeps his eyes on the screen as the doctor starts doing his thing. Taehyung ignores how rude Jungkook’s remarks were, and does what he does best: his job.

He massages Jungkook’s legs with the right amount of strength, stretches them in the right angles, and uses one of the small machines that they’ve started including in their sessions — a small big step that was, surprisingly, accepted easily by the other.

Around twenty minutes pass before he hears Jungkook shift on the couch, and he looks up to check his body language, worried that he may be in pain or anything of the sort, but only finds him oddly interested in the television. He’s too curious not to look.

“Is that your best friend?” Jungkook merely hums, unwilling to look away. “Isn’t that Park Jimin? He’s very pretty, I believe.”

“He’s not pretty, he’s handsome. He’s a man.”

Taehyung’s hands still for a second, but he can’t say that he’s surprised. “Great, just when I thought that you couldn’t get any fucking worse, huh?” he chuckles.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I should’ve known, really. Your toxic masculinity should have been enough telling.” Jungkook sputters a couple of incomprehensive words, only to end up frowning and with a questioning look in his eyes. “Are you really fucking homophobic or just too straight to be able to look at a man without your testosterone spiking?”

“My best friend is literally gay.” Jungkook defends.

“That doesn’t say anything.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, and if he starts pressing a little harder on the massage, he doesn’t notice; good thing that Jungkook can’t feel it yet, or he’d definitely be complaining by now.

“You don’t know anything about me, so shut up. If you’re gay, that’s your damn business, but I’ll have to ask you to keep your hands to yourself so that—”

“Don’t even think about putting my professionalism in question, or I’ll seriously never step foot in this damn house again, and I’ll leave you to your chair since no one else would have the patience to fucking deal with you.”

Jungkook presses his lips together, eyes shifting back to the screen so that he can keep watching Jimin walk the runway. He knows that his words were a low blow, and he might regret even insinuating such a thing, but he’s not about to admit that or apologize.

“Besides, you’re not my type. I don’t like little boys.”

“I’m everyone’s type.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Are you actually gay, though?” he asks, and there’s something in his voice that Taehyung can’t quite identify, but that he won’t even try to so that he doesn’t get angry.

“I’m bisexual, not that that’s any of your business.”

“I don’t—”

“Just watch your show, I’ve spent all of my Jungkook energy for the day, I don’t want to listen to nonsense any longer.” he interrupts, gesturing to the television.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else, recognizing that it’s really not his place to. He doesn’t want to come off the wrong way, nor does he want to fight. Not again. He settles for watching Taehyung’s hands working on his legs, given that Jimin’s already done with his walk, and something in him feels bad for what he’s said.

If his best friend had heard it, he would’ve been upset.

“I’m not homophobic.” he feels the need to say.

“Sure, you’re not.” Taehyung dismisses.

Jungkook puckers his lips, resting his head back on the couch. Nothing that he might say will help, nor will it make Taehyung believe otherwise, so he doesn’t try, especially since he doesn’t care about what Taehyung thinks of him. He doesn’t care at all. He, too, has used up all of his ‘Taehyung energy’.

Whatever that might be.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung sighs as he unlocks his front door, dreading the awful conversation on his way. In all eight years, he’s barely ever had to scold Jiwoon as a whole, and he doesn’t enjoy doing so. He doesn’t like seeing the way that he pouts and his eyes get teary when he knows that he’s done something wrong; it pains him.

“Your dad’s home.” he hears from the living room.

“I’m scared…” Jiwoon mumbles, and Taehyung’s already contemplating not even scolding him at all just from hearing such a thing. It’s been a few hours, so the anger has dissipated, and now he really just wants to understand the why behind it all.

“Don’t say that, you have no reason to.” Miyun scolds. Taehyung clears his throat as he walks into the living room and they both shut up, Jiwoon sitting on the couch while his mother stands by his side. His bottom lip is wobbling in a way that is already well known to them, but they don’t say anything about it yet.

“Hey.” Taehyung greets, putting his bag on the other end of the couch for him to deal with later. “I’m not even going to beat around the bush with this, so just start explaining exactly what happened.” he demands.

Jiwoon looks down at his hands, fiddling with the pillow that he’s holding. “It was mom’s fault.” he mumbles.

“Come again?” she blinks.

“How exactly is it your mom’s fault?” Taehyung asks, equally as confused, and they both share a clueless look. “You’re not getting out of this conversation by blaming one of us, mister. It’ll be easier if you explain what happened, so that we can understand.”

“Mom was talking to my teacher before classes, and that stupid Sungho was making jokes about it. I got angry. He can’t talk about my mom like that.” Jiwoon explains, and he doesn’t look like he regrets a thing.

“What kind of jokes?”

“About mommy being in love with my teacher, and how mommy was going to replace you.” he pouts. “I didn’t like it, and I threw my pencil case at him, but I was also going to punch him in his face. I don’t think that I’m strong enough for that, but I was still going to attempt, you know?”

“Honey, as much as I appreciate you defending me from your friend’s jokes, I would’ve been way happier if you had just defended me. Verbally. Not physically.”

“You know that we don’t tolerate violence, Jiwoon. We have never even lifted a hand at you, so you’re not learning that behavior in this house. We can’t just close our eyes and act like this didn’t happen. It’s grave.”

“But—”

“No buts. We know that you’re a really good kid with an amazing heart, and you wanted to protect your mom, but there are other ways. You can’t hit someone to get your point across, and we’re not ok with what you did.”

“This isn’t fair…” Jiwoon looks down.

“It’s very fair, actually. We’re disappointed, Ji.” Miyun speaks up again. “Go to your room and do your homework, we’ll talk and decide what kind of punishment we’ll give you for this.” he nods, not speaking a word as he gets up from the couch and walks out of the living room with his head down.

“Fuck, I can’t be a dad, I was about to bend. He looked so sad, my God.” Taehyung whisper-yells as soon as they’re alone, a hand over his chest. “This is fucking horrible.”

“You’re eight years too late to say that you can’t be a dad.” Miyun laughs, pulling him by the hand to the couch. “He’s so cute, he was just standing up for me. I think that he understands that he did wrong, and these minutes alone will allow him to think. What punishment are we giving him for this, though? Do you know?”

“Why am I the one deciding?”

“Because you’re the dad.” she shrugs.

“You pushed him out, you have way more say in this.”

Miyun shows him her middle finger. “That’s not how it works and, seeing his little lip shaking, I don’t want to punish him at all, so you decide. He’ll cry and hate me if I’m the one grounding him.”

“We could always just… give him the illusion that he’s grounded…” Taehyung offers. “Like… Not watching television past eleven, since he’s already sleeping by that time anyway.” he shrugs. “And also, he’ll have to set up and clean up the table for every meal, since he always offers to do it. I don’t want to punish him, I just want him to understand that he’s done something wrong, and we’ll achieve that easily with a conversation, rather than punishing him.”

“Okay, I agree with these terms. Let him stay in his room for a bit, thinking about it… then we’ll call him back to talk about it.” Miyun decides. “How was work?”

“I’m not talking about work before a good shower, or I might seriously fall in pieces. Jungkook drains me.” Taehyung rests his head back, closing his eyes when he feels the woman’s nails caressing his scalp. “What were you talking about with his teacher, by the way? Was it anything about his education?”

“No, his teacher is just hot.”

Taehyung gasps, looking at her. “The kid was right!”

“Shut up, don’t you start!” she covers his mouth with her hand. “Go have your shower, the—” he pulls her hand.

“Oh, I’m just barely getting started.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  Jiminie 🔒 (@min_1129390019)
|  I just spent 30 minutes trying to call Jungkook non-stop
|  I only stopped because he turned off his phone…
|  @ventingforsmth do you want to show up at his place this week?

|  ──  I defeated jk once 🔒 (@ventingorsmth)
|  ──  I can’t stop thinking about what he did so… definitely

|  aging at a fast rate 🔒 (@bestmanager)
|  Oh God…
|  I should do something to stop them but… I won’t do anything. He needs them.

Chapter Text

It’s precisely nine in the morning when Taehyung arrives at the mansion, not so ready to see his second patient of the day. Dealing with Jungkook is a chore that he can’t wait to get rid of, but also can’t give up on.

With a heavy sigh, he pulls into the garage that he’s allowed to use, and he’s rather confused to see a car that usually isn’t there. Maybe Jungkook has a friend over, or maybe it’s a new house worker, who knows.

He gets his bag, collects his patience that he needs so much whenever he comes over, and makes his way inside the house to start yet another torturous session.

His steps come to a stop when he hears someone walking towards him, and he’s surprised to see his patient’s mother offering a smile. “Hello, Mr. Kim.”

“Hi…” he bows, politely. “Are you visiting your son?”

“Yes, I am, I just got here. I wanted to catch you for a minute… before your session with him. If that’s ok with you, of course. I just wanted to ask you a few things.” she requests, and Taehyung quickly nods.

“Yeah, sure. You can walk to the gym with me.” he offers, gesturing for her to lead the way. He has no idea of what she might want to know, but he hopes that she hasn’t found out about how nice he is to her son, and vice-versa. That would be really awkward.

“You probably know this all too well by now, but my son can be… very closed off, a little hard to talk to.” the doctor has to hold in a scoff, paired with a sarcastic comment or two. “He hasn’t updated us when it comes to these sessions, he just says that it’s going well, and nothing else. I agreed to give him his privacy, as l had planned on staying here to help him, but that was only if he kept us up to date… He’s not doing that, so I’m here to ask you how everything is going with him.”

“You know him way better than I do, and even I know that he’d rather be silent than showing any weakness… That’s probably why he hasn’t told you anything about the sessions.” Taehyung shrugs.

“What does that mean? Is it not going well?”

“It is, the sessions are going according to plan… but we have yet to see any real improvement, and I understand how hard it must be for him to say that aloud. He still has no sensation at all… We’re working on it, but whether this will work or not is still unknown to me. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about it.”

“The doctors said that he’d, most likely, succeed since he started physiotherapy right after his accident… I confess that I thought that it’d be, uhm, faster.”

Taehyung feels insanely guilty for hiding things from her, but he knows how angry Jungkook would be if he told anyone about how long it took him to start working. He can’t risk making Jungkook change his mind. “Yeah, each patient is different. I’ve had people starting to stand again in the span of weeks, others not being able to stand at all again… We’re at a stage where I’m still unable to predict what may happen with him.”

The woman sighs. “He worries me, Mr. Kim…”

“You can call me Taehyung, it’s fine with me.” he corrects, opening the gym’s door for her to walk inside first. “Why do you say that? If you’d like to share.”

“I’m not sure if you know this, but he hasn’t told anyone. Only my husband and I, and Hoseok, his manager. Of course, the nurse and his cook, but he even fired his workers so that he wouldn’t risk having the news made public. No one else knows, and he’s dealing with this all by himself… I know that he’s strong, but he’s not as strong as he looks. I’m worried about him, yet he doesn’t listen to me, Taehyung.”

“I’ve told him that much already, but he’s stubborn. I believe that he should start seeing a therapist, or at least tell his friends for some emotional support. I can’t even imagine how hard this is to deal with.”

“Can l ask you for a favor, Taehyung?” she faces him.

“If it’s something that I’m able to do, yes, of course.”

“Can you try talking to him?” Taehyung can feel his left eye twitch at that. “He doesn’t listen to me, and he’s made it his mission to avoid his father… You’re technically a stranger to him, so maybe he’d— I don’t know, maybe he’d listen to you.” she requests

“I don’t think that—”

“Please.” Taehyung gulps, unsure of what to say. How can he say no to her face like that? He doesn’t even have to try, she’d never know it, so he can just lie and say that he’ll do it. There’s no way for her to know that. Right?

On the other hand, he doesn’t like lying. If he says yes, he’ll have to do it. He’s already lied enough to the poor woman, even if indirectly and against his will.

“Please…?” she repeats, and he nods.

“Okay, I’ll give it a try.” the smile that takes over her face lights up her eyes in a way that makes him feel even more obligated to do it; he’ll have to go for it.

“Thank you so much, seriously.”

“It’s nothing…” he fiddles with his bag, trying not to think about the situation that he’s just willingly put himself into. There’s no way that Jungkook will listen to him, of all people, so he doesn’t know why he didn’t just say no and ignored the request.

It won’t hurt to try.

Two minutes of waiting go by before Taehyung’s able to hear the familiar sound of the wheels on the floor, coming closer and closer, until the nurse opens the door for them. Jungkook’s eyes grow uncharacteristically big.

“Mom—?” he lets out, confused, looking between the two. “What the hell are you doing here all of a sudden?”

“Hi, sweetheart.” she smiles, stepping closer to kiss the top of his head; he tries to escape, though he fails, and is left groaning with a bothered expression. “I’ll be staying here for four days. You know, to keep you company, and to help you around the house.”

“I don’t need—” Jungkook stops, looking over at the doctor. “We’ll talk about this later.” he decides, unwilling to have such a conversation in front of strangers. Then, he proceeds to roll his wheelchair close to the massage table. “You can leave.” he says without looking at anyone in particular, but the nurse is quick to bow and leave.

Taehyung wants to scoff, again, but he simply puts on his gloves in silence as Jungkook gets himself on the table, and his mother sits down on a chair facing them. “I want to watch it today.” Jungkook bites down on his tongue not to tell her to leave, but he’s not comfortable being watched.

The athlete gets rid of his sweatpants, handing them over to Taehyung, who folds them neatly and puts them away for later. “As always, if you feel my hands or any pressure, you have to tell me so that I—”

“You don’t have to say this shit every single time.”

“Jungkook.” the woman calls after him, her tone upset. “Where are your manners?” Taehyung kind of wants to laugh at how offended Jungkook looks, and it’s rather funny how he doesn’t even say anything to defend himself.

“It’s ok, ma’am. I understand his frustration.” Taehyung says, only to be met with a glare right away. “C’mon, let's get you started, Mr. Jeon.” he smiles, the kind that he forces with some of his patients. The same kind that he used to wear on his face for eight hours back when he worked at a shop in his high-school days.

Jungkook faces the ceiling when he sees Taehyung’s hands inching closer to his leg, and he doesn’t even want to acknowledge how he doesn’t feel them.

Taehyung focuses on the massage, the stretches, on everything that he’s been doing as of lately, almost ends up forgetting that they’re being watched due to how silently Jungkook’s mother is sitting there.

He has to busy his mind for the following ten minutes so that they don’t feel as painfully uncomfortable as he’d imagine them to feel, focusing only on his work and the random thoughts that take over his head.

Twenty minutes in that same silence go by before he’s shifting to Jungkook’s feet, and he tries tickling him, as per usual, waiting for the day that it will grant him any reaction. Not today, it seems, as Jungkook’s face doesn’t change in the slightest.

“Are you ticklish?” Taehyung asks, curious.

“Why the fuck does that concern you?”

“Jungkook!” his mother reprehends again. “I can’t believe my ears. Taehyung asked a simple question, why would you ever answer him in such a way?”

“No worries, ma’am, he’s usually nice to me.” that does make Jungkook lift his head enough to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and annoyance.

“Oh, that’d definitely be a surprise…” the woman sighs.

“I have a way with people.” Taehyung almost teases still folding and unfolding Jungkook’s toes, a smile wanting to stretch on his lips. “Lay back down, you’re doing well, Jeon.” he says with a quieter tone, motioning for him to rest his head once again.

“Is the session going well?” Jungkook’s mother asks.

“It is, yes. He’s doing great.” the doctor praises him, albeit indirectly, and Jungkook frowns at the ceiling without saying a word. They typically spend their sessions either in silence or insulting each other, and the elder only compliments him at the end, or doesn’t even say anything not to annoy him too much.

He doesn’t understand why Taehyung is doing it now, and the only explanation is that he’s trying to appeal to his mother. For whatever reason that it might be.

“Isn’t Mr. Kim so nice?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “No, he’s not—”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m only doing my job.” Taehyung interrupts, offering her a smile, before facing the younger man again. “And you, you need to relax, I can see the tension in your neck and shoulders.” he corrects, though he doesn’t stop the stretches to go ease the area. “You need to relax more.”

“I’m fucking relaxed.” Jungkook mumbles

“Clearly.”

“I’ll go have something for breakfast… You two enjoy the rest of the session.” the woman informs as she stands, a hand on her growling stomach. “Can I get you two anything?” she offers by the door.

“No, thank you, ma’am, I’ve had breakfast already.”

“I can’t have breakfast today. I ate too much yesterday.” Jungkook denies, eyes still on the ceiling, and he can only hear his mother sigh and whisper something about his diets before leaving the gym.

“Having a cheat day, at least, won’t kill you.”

“I didn’t ask you.” he shuts it down.

Taehyung nods, unwilling to fight. “Fine.”

Jungkook waits until he can’t hear his mother’s steps anymore, before looking at the older man. “What the fuck was that?” he asks, tone demanding an answer.

“What was what?” Taehyung meets his eyes, and he doesn’t even get surprised anymore to see him glaring.

“Lying to my mother. Since when am I nice to you? Since when do we get fucking along?” he lifts himself up on his elbows to be able to look at him more properly.

“Oh, so you’d rather have me telling her how things actually are during our sessions?” the doctor chuckles.

“Afraid that you’d lose the job?”

“I understand your concern, Mr. Jeon, it wouldn’t be that nice to have them find out now how you lied for over a month about these sessions. You don’t have to thank me for lying about how things truly are.” he says, sarcastically, and Jungkook quiets down. “You’re too fucking stupid for your own good sometimes.”

“You have such a nerve, seriously.” Jungkook spits, shaking his head. “And what the hell was that ‘you’re doing well’ bullshit? You never say shit like that, so why were you trying to appeal to my mother? She’s not the one paying you more for coming here, it’s my money.”

“You’re way too insufferable not to tell me to shut the fuck up if I had done that sooner.” Taehyung shrugs, positively deciding to ignore the money comment. “I always praise my patients, and I saw your mother’s presence as a way to be my natural self. I wasn’t lying to appeal to her, or to you. You’re doing well, Jeon.”

“I’m not even doing anything.” Jungkook throws.

“Right now, you’re doing enough, and what you can.”

Jungkook stares at him in silence, processing the words, before lying back down, eyes on the ceiling. Truth is, he really can’t do anything else other than lying there. Not until he starts feeling his legs again… if he ever does. Only then will he be able to use them, exercise them. He can’t do anything now.

“Would you like me to start complimenting you more?”

The athlete takes a second. “No.”

“Hm. Well, I still will whenever I see fit.”

“Don't.”

“Oh, you’re doing so well right now, Mr. Jeon, you’re doing great, you’re doing so good in this session t—”

“Shut up…” Jungkook drags, and there’s a hint of a whine in his voice that makes Taehyung chuckle — for the first time ever, it’s not due to sarcasm or anger.

“Alright, I’ll stop for now, but I really mean it. I may dislike you and hate you as a patient, since you’re rude and uncooperative, but I’m still rooting for you. I’m doing my best here, and I really want the best for you and for your recovery. You’ll walk again, if it depends on me.” Taehyung assures, meaning every word.

Jungkook sighs, eyes closed. “You better be right.”

There’s a little smile on Taehyung’s lips when he looks back down at Jungkook’s calf, meticulously digging his fingers in the right spots. The silence that follows isn’t as uncomfortable as the previous, which is a relief.

It doesn’t last long, however. “Your mom asked me to talk to you.”

The shift in the mood is immediate. “Fucking Christ, are you two teaming up to annoy me even more now?”

“Don’t talk about your own mother like that, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” Taehyung’s hands halt, and he can’t help but to be angry. If Jiwoon ever talked about Miyun like this, he’d really be grounded for a week. He can’t stand people who disrespect their parents. Maybe because he’s a parent himself, who knows.

“We don’t get along that well anym—”

“I don’t fucking care, she put you in this world. She pushed your big ass head out, so be respectful.” he defends, eyebrows knitted together. “You’re insolent.”

Jungkook scoffs. “My head isn’t big.”

“Your head is fucking huge with that inflated ego of yours. I don’t even want to say anything anymore, just be quiet. Your mother is an amazing person, and you’re too fucking ungrateful to notice.”

“Why are you even—”

“Shut up. Seriously. Shut up.” Jungkook looks away, unaware of how harsh Taehyung’s hands are now working on his calf, the touch almost bruising.

“What did she ask you to tell me…?” he whispers.

“Fucking man up and go talk to her instead of asking me, I don’t want to have any sort of conversation with you. People say that the easiest way to tell the heart of a man is by looking at the way that they treat their mother, and each passing day you just prove again and again how you’re as horrible as l assumed.”

“I d—”

“Be quiet.” Taehyung interrupts, and Jungkook surprises himself by actually shutting his lips and looking away from the doctor. His lips are pulled in a little pout, and he’s unsure of the reason behind it. He’s quite angry, so that’s probably it. He knows who he is, he doesn’t need a stranger making comments.

The rest of the session is spent in silence, and with the doctor having to control his own frustration not to leave angry red marks everywhere that he massages.

There’s no use risking a lawsuit.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  Okay, I really lost it with him today
|  There’s nothing that annoys me more than people who don’t appreciate their parents when they’re amazing people. It was stronger than me, and I couldn’t handle his ungratefulness when she’s such a good person

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I hate when he says shit that leaves me thinking. I’m not mean to her or anything, this is so annoying…
|  Why do I feel so fucking guilty. I should talk to her…
|  Fuck him, like, seriously, fuck him. It’s been years since I sat down having a conversation with her, how the fuck am I supposed to do this?

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook breathes in and out before rolling his chair into the living room, finding his mother sitting on the couch. He feels his heart stop for a second when he spots the bowl of cut up fruits placed on his couch, but he doesn’t want to get angry before they even have the chance to talk. If it stains, though, he’ll for sure be mad.

“Hey.” he calls, getting her attention from the television.

“Hey, sweetheart.” she smiles. “Do you want to watch this show with me? I’m on the first episode, so you didn’t miss much, I can explain what happened so f—”

“No, I don’t want to watch it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Can you turn it off?” he motions to the screen.

“Uhm, sure.” his mother clicks on the right button to turn the television off, albeit confused. “Can I ask why you’ve made me turn it off? Do you have any issue with me being in the living room…? I thought that only your bedroom was off-limits. I can go to my room…”

“No, the living room is fine, I just—” he stops, pulling on his lip piercing with his teeth; a nervous habit. “I want to talk to you. Kim told me that you had something to tell me, and here l am… to… uhm, listen, and all. Yes.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’d love that.” she pats the couch for him to join her, but the look on his face must be enough telling, given that she stops, and clears her throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you how you’re doing… inside.”

“Inside?”

“Yeah.” she nods. “How are you dealing with this?”

“I’m ecstatic.” he answers, sarcastic.

“Honey, c’mon.” the way that her eyes sadden makes his stomach drop a little. “I’m worried about you. You don’t talk to me more than what’s polite of you, and you’ve been avoiding your father… I know that you haven’t been talking to Hoseokie, either, and I know you well enough to know that you haven’t told anyone else about this. I’m worried, Jungkook. I’m really worried about you. I sit at home with my heart in my hands, unsure of how you’re feeling or— or doing here in this huge house all by yourself, with no one to give you a word of encouragement, with no one to listen to what concerns you. This brave front that you put up might fool everyone, but I’m your mom, I know that this is hard for you to deal with. I know that you’re having a tough time up there.” she touches his forehead with a gentle finger, taking the opportunity to comb his bangs back. “You need to talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be me, if you’re not comfortable with it, but someone.” Jungkook gulps, looking down at his calloused hands “Jimin and Yugyeom would be here for you, honey. You know that. Why haven’t you told them…”

“Because I’m embarrassed.” he admits, voicing it for the first time. “They haven’t known me in any other way, they only know me as Jeon Jungkook, pro athlete.”

“And do you really think that they’d think less of you just because your career is on hold…?” she tilts her head. “They care so much about you, Kook. I’m sure that they’re not your friends just because you’re famous and a big name. They care for you, not him.”

“Him?” he looks up, puzzled.

“The guy in the articles.” his mother shrugs. “The rude guy who’s too cocky for his own good, and intimidates everyone with a single stare. They’re not your friends for him, I’m sure, Kook. They’d have your back.”

“He’s me, mom. Believe it or not. That’s who l am.”

“I don’t believe you. You still look like the little boy that cried a river when I didn’t buy him a pair of little boxing gloves for Christmas, and sulked until I bought it for him the very next day.” she recalls.

“This is why I’ve always kept and will keep you away from the media, you’d ruin my image.” he half-jokes, making her laugh. “Mom, do you think that I’m mean?”

“To people in general? If so, then yes.”

Jungkook puckers his lips. “No, I mean to you. Mean to you. Do you think that I’m mean to you?” he rephrases.

“Uhm…” she looks away. “No, you’re just— Well, you’re short-tempered. You’ve been like this since you started focusing on boxing, even more when you moved here to start your professional career. We’re all used to it by now, honey.” the woman explains.

Jungkook frowns. “I’m not short-tempered…”

“You are. You used to be the sweetest little thing, but this life changed you. You’re distant, but as long as you’re happy and healthy… we’re all happy for you.” he hates how upset she sounds, juxtaposing her own words. “I still don’t believe that you’re the same guy from the articles, though. You changed, but not that much. You put a front for the public and the press, but deep down, you’re still my baby.” she smiles, pinching his cheek even if not that hard: she used to do it often.

“Hey, stop, stop that.” he leans away, gently swatting her hand away with no strength at all. “I am the guy from the articles, whether it’s hard for you to accept it or not. However, I don’t want to be that guy with you. I don’t— I don’t want to be mean to you.” he looks down.

That brings a smile to her face. “I don’t think that you’re mean to me, but I’d appreciate it if you called more often. I’d also appreciate it if you told them…”

Jungkook sighs. “I don’t think— l can’t do it.”

“I’ve never, in your twenty-three years of life, heard you say that you can’t do something.” she points out. “You have always been too brave not to at least try everything out… and you always ace it. You can do it.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

His mother smiles. “Okay, I appreciate that. Now, do you want to watch this show with me?” she offers.

“Uhm… No, I’ll go to my room for a bit.”

Her face falls a little, but she nods. “Alright, rest well.”

“Enjoy the show…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

The television has been on for the past hour, yet he hasn’t been able to absorb a single word coming from it. It’s hard to focus when his brain is going haywire, his thoughts a messy mixture of everything that has been bothering him for the past month, and now today’s talk.

Taehyung’s words are once again stuck on a loop in the back of his head, much to his dismay, and he can’t ignore them as much as he’d like to.

The conversation with his mother plays at the same time, every word said leaving a differently weird feeling in his stomach. He doesn’t like it, nor does he like upsetting her — that’s not who he is.

When he closes his eyes, all that he can see is Jimin and Yugyeom’s faces. They’ve been friends for almost five years now, and Jimin has been there pretty much ever since he started his career, Yugyeom joining not that long after that. They’d have his back.

He knows that, he knows that they’re amazing humans, but it doesn’t make it less embarrassing to let himself be seen in such a state. His thoughts will eat him alive, though, and his mother is right, he needs to let them out with someone. He won’t allow himself to show any sort of weakness, nor will he show them just how badly this is affecting him, but at least he’ll have someone to talk to about it

With a gulp, he reaches for his phone. Their group chat used to be active every day, filled with texts, but it hasn’t been used in weeks now. He opens it with shaky fingers, slowly starting to type. “You can do it…”

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Hey, guys. Would you like to come over tomorrow?  |
I believe that I owe you an explanation...  |
I'm not fully ready for it, but it's time. I think.  |

|  Smol
|  You don't owe us anything, but we'd appreciate that explanation
|  We want to be there for you... Right, Yug?
|  Yug?

|  Kim (Sore Loser) Yugyeom
|  Sorry, I was texting my assistant to cancel a meeting that I had
|  We'll be there first thing in the morning. For sure.

Me  |
If you show up before 10, I'll leave you at the door.  |

|  Smol
|  We know your passwords :D

Chapter Text

“Where are you?”

“I’m almost there, I can see your car pulling into the garage.” Yugyeom informs, and Jimin brakes, turning back to see the approaching car following his. “Try not to hit anything this time, hm?”

Jimin laughs. “That was one time.” he recalls, fitting his car on the first empty space that he finds in the garage, and ends the call. His friend quickly parks by his side with a pack of beers that he waves in Jimin’s direction.

“You know that he’s not going to drink that.” he points.

“Today, he might.” Yugyeom hopes. “I have the feeling that l, at least, will need a good beer after the news that we’re about to get. I have no idea of what the fuck is coming our way, and I don’t know how we’ll react.”

Jimin stops by the door, holding his forearm to make him halt. “Listen, we need to be on the same page about something.” he starts. “If it’s really bad, like, a broken hand that will never— I don’t know, fully work again, we have to mask our reactions. We can’t make him feel even worse about whatever happened.”

“Ok, yeah, I agree with that.” Yugyeom nods. “We can do that.”

“Okay, we can do this.” Jimin nods, too.

“But, fuck, I don’t know how I’m going to react if he was serious about it being a career-ending injury. I’d lose my shit if I had to quit boxing right now, and I’m nowhere near his level… I’m still hoping to find that he was exaggerating, and being negative, because then it’s— fixable.”

Jimin sighs. “I’m also hoping for that. His career means everything to him.” he runs a stressed hand through his hair, before straightening up. “Let’s get on with this, we told him that we’d be here at ten, and it’s almost ten.”

“Lead the way.” Yugyeom motions for him to walk ahead, and Jimin quickly puts the right code on the door, opening it. “Shall we wait in the living room?”

“Yeah, I think that that’s the easiest way to do it. He’ll join us there…” he leads the way through the immense, silent home, Yugyeom walking right behind him. “I might need that beer, too, actually.”

“Are you getting nervous?”

“Yep.” Jimin nods, only to gasp when he sees a woman sitting on the couch. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Jeon.” he bows, a full ninety-degree angle, when she turns to them.

“Hey, boys.” she smiles, turning off the television and patting the couch. “Come here, I want to have a word with you before you see him, if you don’t mind…”

“Not at all, no.” they both say. “What is it?” but the woman taps the couch again, so they rush to sit by her side, the pack of beers now on the center coffee table.

“Jungkookie… He’s in a really tough spot right now, his head isn’t in the right place, and he’s, undeniably, more irritable since the accident. He’s very reactive, and even more short-tempered than before.” she starts, words careful. “I’m telling you this, because you’re going to see him properly since the accident, and the first time since he got out of the hospital, and you’re going to learn about what happened. Please, be careful with what you say, and don't get angry if he gives you a rude or stupid remark. Know that it comes from the place of someone who’s… who’s having a really hard time dealing with everything by himself.” the two men share a worried eye contact.

“We tried to be here for him from the start, ma’am. He totally cut us off, and wouldn’t talk to us, or even open our texts…” Yugyeom is the one to speak. “We understand now, but we’ll understand even better once we know the full story, so don’t worry. We’ll be careful.”

“Besides, we’re used to his bad mood. He’s always had his days when he’s— I’ll be honest, if he weren’t able to break my whole body like a stick, I probably would’ve tried to fight him once or twice throughout our friendship.” Jimin shares, making them laugh.

“I can understand why, don’t worry.” she assures. “I just ask you to be… well, understanding, this time. Be supportive, and be respectful. It’s a delicate situation, and the wrong words will hurt him more than he shows. You won’t know that he’s hurt, because he’ll never admit it, but it’ll bother him for days.”

“Oh, trust us, it’s been our mission to turn him soft, and it hasn’t worked." the boxer comments with a quiet laugh. “We’ve learned to see the signs of what he’s feeling, even if it’s really hard to tell. We’ll be careful, and we’ll watch our words with him.”

“We even made a pact not to react too much, so that he won’t feel alienated, or even worse about it. We’ll mask it to the best of our abilities.”

“Yep.” he nods. “We got this.”

“That’s great of you two, really.” she smiles. “I’ll go get him now, he’s getting dressed… Would you like something to drink, anything?” his mother asks as she stands, but Yugyeom simply points at the beers. “Oh, right.” she laughs. “Just give him a minute.”

“Yeah, no worries, we’ll wait.” Jimin smiles, and they remain quiet as she walks out of the living room. “I’m sweating, Yug. How bad is it? Just how bad is it?!”

“I have no idea, dude.” Yugyeom stresses.

“Let’s stay positive. Let’s— Let’s not fret before we see and hear him. This, uhm, it still might be, as we initially thought, something fixable and he’s just being negative about it. Right?” Jimin tries. “Right…?”

“After hearing his mom, I have my doubts about that.”

“God, I’ve never wanted to be right this badly.”

“Let’s just wait for him to join us…”

TWITTER

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I’m about to join them in the living room… I’m so nervous that I could puke
|  I’ve never felt like this, nervous as fuck. I’m dreading this interaction
|  Fuck, Jungkook, man the fuck up

Jungkook stops by the door, swallowing the lump in his throat. He can hear his two best friends chatting in the living room, and he knows that he has to go in, he’s never backed out of anything, and this won’t be the first time, but he feels like puking, feels like he might be sick if he waits any longer, and allows the nerves and embarrassment to eat him up inside any further.

He regrets inviting them, but now they’re there, and he has to face it. He has to do it, he has to get himself in the damned living room, even if his hands shake when he reaches for the wheels of his chair again.

The athlete stops right after getting in the room, still unnoticed by his friends; the two talking and watching television as they wait, their backs turned to him. Jungkook breathes in and out, and clears his throat.

“…l used to love this show an—” Jimin stops mid-sentence when they hear him, and they both stand up and turn around right away to check, see him.

Their plan does not work.

Not at all.

They both gasp, Yugyeom curses, and Jimin covers his mouth with both of his hands, too shocked to let anything out. Jungkook gulps, looking away from them. He can feel their eyes on him, but he can’t meet them when the wall is so much more interesting than the horror on their faces, the incredulity in their eyes.

The silence feels too long, and too thick. It’s insanely uncomfortable.

“J-Jungkook…” Yugyeom is the first one to manage to put any word together, despite the stutter. “You…”

“W-What happened…?” Jimin whispers, even if it sounds as clear as the day in such a quiet room. “Why are you in a wheelchair? Why— What happened…”

Jungkook looks down at his lap, gulping yet again before looking up at them. “I broke a finger in the crash—” he shows his still bandaged hand. “—and I got injured in my spinal cord. I… I can’t walk.”

“Why? Are you, like, recovering and it hurts to walk?”

“No, I’m—” Jungkook stops, taking a second before he even dares say the next words, well-aware that the moment that they come out of his mouth, and someone else knows, the situation will be entirely too real to ignore. “I can’t walk because I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”

Jimin lets out an immediate cry, hands once again covering his mouth as he shakes his head in disbelief. Yugyeom looks like he’s seen a ghost walk by.

“This is why no paparazzi saw me leaving the hospital, and why I haven’t left my house ever since. I didn’t want the public to know, which is why my team didn’t reveal anything, and why I had to abandon the championship. This is why it’s career-ending.”

He looks between his best friends, and Jimin already has easy tears rolling down both of his cheeks, whereas Yugyeom can’t even figure out what to say or feel, jaw twitching whenever he tries to form a word, only to realize that he doesn’t know what words to use. Again, the silence is uncomfortable.

There’s another little sob, and Jungkook sighs.

“Stop crying.” he gestures towards Jimin.

“I-I’m sorry, I just— I can’t— I don’t—” the model gets choked up, words caught in his throat, so he simply covers his mouth again, head shaking side to side. His eyes are filled with tears that fall whenever he blinks, and he can’t physically make himself stop.

“This is insane…” Yugyeom finally manages to speak.

Jungkook hates it. “I shouldn’t have told you to come.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung takes another sip from his coffee, using his card to open the door. He can already hear some of his coworkers chatting in the breakroom, and he really wants to sit for the twenty minutes that he has available, not doing anything. He’s exhausted.

“Hey, Tae.” Namjoon greets, and he only offers a tired smile as he almost drags himself to the round table where his friends are sitting. “You look half-dead.”

“I couldn’t sleep well tonight. Insomnia, really.” he takes another sip, shrugs. “I also just had a session with a patient that I basically have to carry the whole time, and I already had poor energy, so now I’m spent.”

“How long do you have before the next session?”

“Twenty minutes. I’m not even going to move a muscle until I absolutely have to get up to go.” Taehyung sags even more on the chair, eyes closing. “I promised Jiwoon that we’d go to the cinema today, so I need a lot of coffee.”

Seokjin cackles. “Good luck trying not to sleep during the movie. Are you going by yourselves?” he asks.

“Miyun is going with us, so she will wake me up.”

“I always see you two interacting on Twitter, and I’m happy to see you two getting along so well now.” his coworker comments. “How’s the little guy doing?”

“He’s doing well. I mean, he got into a fight at school the other day, but he understood where he went wrong, and that’s why I agreed to take him to the cinema, otherwise he wouldn’t be going.”

“We all do dumb shit when we’re kids.” Namjoon dismisses. “If he knows that he did something wrong, then I wouldn’t worry too much…” he adds. “I have another question for you, though. Well, we have.”

Taehyung opens his eyes again. “Yeah…?”

“When you leave and stay away from the hospital for, like, two hours, are you going to Jeon’s house?”

“I knew that it was going to be something about him.”

His two coworkers lean closer. “So…?”

“I am, but I’m not telling you anything about it. I can’t talk, otherwise I’ll get in big trouble. Sued, probably.” he takes another sip, and Seokjin’s interrupted before he can even start speaking, their boss coming in.

“Taehyung, can I have a word with you?” he asks, gesturing behind himself to the door, and Taehyung really wants to say no, because he’s tired and wants to rest for the rest of the twenty minutes, but he can’t just say no to his boss. Unfortunately.

“Yeah, sure.” Taehyung stands up, taking his coffee cup with him as he follows his boss outside. “What is this about…? Is there any problem with any patient?”

“No, not at all.” Seojoon reassures. “I just got off the phone with Mrs. Jeon. She called, because she believes that we should change our arrangement with them.” he elaborates, and Taehyung only hums for him to go on. “She requested daily sessions, rather than every two days, and I told her that I would ask you if we can make those changes in your schedule to fit this new agreement.” his boss concludes.

“I agree with her decision, but I doubt that Jeon knows that she’s doing that. He hates the sessions, just as much as I dislike working with him. He wouldn’t want to see me every single day.” Taehyung squints.

“Well, I’m saddened to hear that you haven’t started to get along in the slightest, and that you dislike him as much as you did before starting the sessions, but she said good things about you, so I’m proud that you’re keeping your personal judgment away.”

“Oh, of course. I’m doing my best with him, even if I can’t stand him. He’s really insufferable, but I do want him to get better.” he explains. “I would never jeopardize his well-being just because I don’t personally like him.”

His boss smiles. “I’m happy to hear that, Taehyung.”

“About the sessions, yes, I don’t mind.” he decides. “As long as you can change around and fit all of my other patients, I don’t mind going over every day. He pays for the extra gas that I spend on the trips, so it’s not much of a problem. I don’t necessarily want to see him every day, but I’ll work with it. You can tell her that I said yes.”

“She’ll be thrilled to hear that. About your patients, I wouldn’t even dare leave people out to fit him just because he’s a celebrity. We need to be a little better for them to like our services, but we can’t reject others for them.” Seojoon says as he grabs his phone. “I’ll give her a call now, and I’ll tell her that you’re on board with this. Thank you, Taehyung, for your time.”

“It’s nothing. Just buy me some headache medicine, because I won’t be hearing the end of this when Jeon finds out that she decided to do such a thing. I know that he’s not aware of it. He’d never say yes.”

“That, I don’t know.” his boss laughs. “Think about the extra money that you’ve been getting since this started, and I’m sure that it’ll make it all a little better.”

“You have a point.” Taehyung nods. “Is that it? I want to sit for the rest of my break.”

“Yes, you can go. I will email you the new schedule once I arrange it with the changes. Thank you, again.”

“It’s nothing. Thanks.” he smiles as his boss turns around on his heels, and the smile is gone in the same second. “Fuck me.” he complains, wanting to scream. He does not want to deal with Jungkook daily, but he couldn’t agree more with the daily sessions, considering how long it took the athlete to even start them. He’d never be opposed to the idea. It’s going to be torturous, he knows.

He's not looking forward to it. At all.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook rolls his chair closer to the couch, stopping right in front of it, and his friends sit down in silence, still too shocked to form coherent sentences. They have a thousand questions to ask, but they’re afraid of asking the wrong thing, or wording themselves poorly, and doing the opposite of what they wanted to do. Making Jungkook uncomfortable is the last thing that they want, so they have to be careful.

And the athlete can feel the tension, so he sighs. “Just ask already.” he gestures, sensing the immensity of questions that his friends most likely have. “Go ahead.”

“Can you feel anything?” Jimin starts, careful.

“No, I can’t feel anything from the waist down. No pain, no touches, nothing. I can’t wiggle my toes or move my legs in the slightest. I haven’t— I haven’t moved an inch ever since the accident.” Jungkook explains.

They can see how hard it is for him to talk about it, how much he’s pushing himself to be able to explain in such detail something that he’s been ignoring from day one.

Jungkook can feel his own hands shaking a little, but he refuses to admit that he’s nervous about a conversation with his best friends, so he remains serious and simply stares at them, waiting for the next question that will, inevitably, come.

And it does, “Is it permanent? I-I mean, can you— I mean… Is there a solution? Can you get surgery or something to fix it…? I don’t know how this works…”

“I can’t fucking fix paralysis with a surgery.”

“Kook, c’mon.” Jimin whispers. “We’re just trying to understand everything. This is… a big shock, and we don’t know anything about this topic. Please, educate us with what you know, so that we can be here…”

Jungkook sighs. “I had surgery when I had the accident, because I almost died. They fixed what was there to fix, but they couldn’t just make me walk again with a few tools and needles. They think that…” he stops.

“Yeah…?” they both encourage

“They think that I might be able to walk again with physiotherapy, so I’ve been having sessions every two days, but I still can’t move a single toe.” Jungkook’s voice comes out raspy, pained, and Jimin has to fight his tears; he can’t cry more, and make the situation worse than it already is. He has to be strong for him.

“We have to believe the doctors, then.” Yugyeom smiles, hopeful. “T-They know better. If they believe that you’ll walk, then it’s because you will. You just have to work for it, right? You’re Jeon Jungkook, you can do anything. Hell, you’ll fight again.”

“I’ll never step foot on a ring again, Yug. Even if I get better. I’ll probably never have that strength again to fight. My legs— My legs probably won’t be what they were, even if I get any better.” Jungkook looks away from them, his own eyes starting to get a little warm. He won’t cry in front of them. He can’t possibly do that.

“You don’t know that, Kook.” Jimin drags himself closer to him, sitting on the edge of the couch. “You’re the strongest person that I know, and I know that you’ll get through this. You’ll get better. I know it.”

“I don’t believe that I’ll ever walk again.”

“Why would you even think that?”

“Because my legs feel like fucking soggy noodles right now, Yug. I don’t even feel the hands massaging me during the sessions, I can’t move a single fucking toe, and you really expect me to believe that I’ll, somehow, be able to stand again? Let alone walk.”

“It’s not somehow, Kook, it’s with hard work and medicine.” Jimin argues. “You can stand again, and you will, I’m sure of it. We’re also here for you, so we’ll do whatever we can. I’ll come over every day to massage your toes, if you’d like.” he offers with a little hopeful smile, his eyes still shiny with tears.

“I don’t need anyone else touching my feet, but thank you.” Jungkook looks down at his lap. “I just want to tell you guys that it’s ok if you want to get up and leave right now, because I’m not who you befriended any—”

“Wait, stop, is that why you didn’t tell us sooner?”

“Yeah, did you think that we wouldn’t want to be around anymore, just because you’ve suffered an injury?” their eyes widen, surprised. “Did you— Why?”

“You’ve only known me as Jeon Jungkook.”

Yugyeom scoffs. “You’re still Jeon Jungkook, you’re just hurt, and we’re still your best friends, who like you very much, and will be there for you every step of the way. I mean, not step. I mean— Uh— I mean—”

“Dude…” Jimin elbows him.

Jungkook looks between the two. “Uhm, I’d like that.”

“Kook, seriously, would you stop seeing me as your best friend if I were in your place, and had to quit modeling, or if Yug had to quit boxing?” Jungkook simply shakes his head. “And we won’t stop seeing you as our friend, either. You’re my best friend, and I’m here. I’m sad that you thought that we’d leave, because you shouldn’t even have considered such a thing. We’re here.”

“I…” he looks at them, words suck in his throat. He wants to thank them, but he’s unsure of how to. “That would be good. I’d appreciate that.”

Yugyeom clears his throat. “I sense that you don’t want to talk about it anymore, so we’ll give you a break before we ask anything else. We want to know all about your physiotherapy sessions, and every detail that you might be able to share, but we’ll wait for that. First, we will enjoy a good beer.” he grabs the pack, opening it

“Oh, please.” Jimin accepts one right away.

“You know that I don’t drink.” Jungkook doesn’t reach for it when it’s handed to him. “I may be stuck to this chair, but I’m still not putting those things in my body.”

“You really need a beer right now.” Yugyeom insists.

“I don’t want one.” he frowns.

“I’ll drink one for you, then.” Jimin smiles. “I missed seeing your face. You look thinner, but you look rested… You must be sleeping well.” he comments. “I really missed you, Kook. I’m happy that you decided to share this with us at last… I want to hear everything about how you’ve been doing and feeling…”

“I don’t want to talk about myself right now. I want to know everything that you two have been up to instead…” Jungkook requests, gesturing towards them.

As they start speaking, however, he stops listening. He can’t hear anything, not a single word. He didn’t expect a poor reaction from them, but he also didn’t know what to expect. He’s embarrassed to be in front of them while stuck to a chair, but they look like they couldn’t care less that he’s not the same person anymore. They’re happy to be there, to talk to him. Somehow, he still wants them to leave.

It's embarrassing, humiliating, and it’s forcing him to acknowledge something that he doesn’t even want to talk about. Inviting them was a mistake.

So why does it feel so relieving?

“Are you listening?” Jimin calls.

“Yes, go on…” but he’s not. There’s too much noise in his head for him to hear them, even if he wants to. He hasn’t been able to be interested in anything since the accident. He simply doesn’t care for anything anymore.

He just wants to go back to his room.

TWITTER

|  I defeated jk once 🔒 (@ventingorsmth)
|  We ordered food but he took two bites and didn’t eat anything else… He’s been on his phone while we try to make conversation… We’re even avoiding questions, we’re just talking about random shit, but he’s not engaging…

|  ──  Jiminie 🔒 (@min_1129390019)
|  ──  He also hasn’t smiled a single time... Not even a forced little smile… ://

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  They’re talking but I have no idea of what they’re telling me. I can tell that they’re making the effort not to mention my condition, which might just be worse somehow. I don’t know. But I also don’t want them to talk about it.
|  I’m so fucking embarrassed to be sitting in this fucking chair in front of them. Fuck. I want to go to my room and be by myself, I’ve had enough of this. I want to cry for some reason. I’m so drained
|  I appreciate how much they tried, though… And they stayed… I appreciate that

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook looks up from his laptop, pausing the movie when he hears a knock on the door. “Yes?” he calls.

“Can I come in? I want to talk to you, sweetheart.” his mother says from the other side, and he sighs. “You’ve been in there for a few hours since they left… I wanted to give you some space before talking to you.”

“I’ll join you in the living room in a moment.” he informs.

“Okay, I’ll wait.” the woman walks away, and he closes his laptop with yet another sigh. He still feels the embarrassment making his skin crawl, and seeing his friends after a full month drained him of any energy that he had, so he doesn’t want yet another conversation, even if with his mother. Especially when he doesn’t know the topic.

He puts his hoodie back on, taking his time getting on the wheelchair so that he won’t fall and embarrass himself even more on a single day.

His mother is already sitting on the couch when he gets there, and she’s looking at something on her phone. “Hey.” he makes his presence known.

“Oh, hey, come here.” she smiles, gesturing for him to get closer to the couch, so he does. “I have something to tell you, Kook. I don’t know how you’ll react…”

“What happened?” he asks, confused, yet suspicious.

“I’ve been googling a few things lately, and I found some websites that said that physiotherapy, in cases such as yours, works best if done daily.” his mother starts, words careful. “I, uhm, I called Park Seojoon, he’s Mr. Kim’s boss, and I talked to him about this.”

“Mom, what the fu—” Jungkook breathes in. “What did you do?” he re-phrases, trying not to lose his cool right away, especially not after the conversation that they had the day before. He doesn’t want to be rude to her.

“Park Seojoon told me that he’d have a chat with your physiotherapist, and that he’d ask whether Mr. Kim can come daily, instead of every two days. He said yes, so we’ve arranged the schedule to start fitting you every day, son. I thought that it would be good for you, and apparently, Mr. Kim thought the same thing.”

“Of course, he fucking did, mom. The money that—”

“Jungkook, seriously, I’ve taught you so much better than this. Good people are good people, and don’t just do things for the money. He told his boss that he thinks that the daily sessions would be highly beneficial for you, and that he doesn’t mind the hassle of driving here and back every day. He’s doing it to help you.”

“Sure, it’s not for the hundreds that you pay him per week, right?” he goes to reach for the wheels of his chair, ready to get himself out of there, when she reaches for his arm to keep him there. “What?”

“We’re doing this because we worry about you, and because we want you to get better, sweetie.” she gives him a concerned smile, eyebrows furrowed. “The more you see Taehyung, the better. You know that much.”

“But I don’t fucking want to see him every day.”

“Why not?”

“Because. He’s fucking annoying, and he gets on my nerves, and he’s rude, and I hate him as much as he hates me. I don’t know how you think that he’s nice.”

“I thought that he was very warm and kind. Maybe he just serves you the same coin that you serve him. You can be rude even when people don’t deserve that. I’m the one dictating when your sessions happen, and I’ve decided to change them and make them daily. If you don’t agree to these terms, then you can waste your health away, and risk your recovery.” she sounds firmer, and he finds himself frowning. “You can go back to your room, my decision is final. You’re being rude.”

“I’m not being rude. You’re the one who—”

“Who worries about her son, and wants him to get better?” she interrupts, and he presses his lips together. “Taehyung only wants you to get better, and I want the same thing. He’ll be coming daily, and that’s final.”

“Fine.” Jungkook turns around, pushing his chair away.

“It’s for your own good, Kook.”

“Sure.”

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I’ve fucking made 0 progress since I started these shitty sessions, so why do they think that I’ll get better when I obviously won't? Why did he even accept this when he fucking hates me?
|  God, I was rude to her again. My head is a mess, I’m starting to fucking hate everything. Myself.

Chapter Text

Taehyung looks down at his phone when it starts ringing, and he picks it up already knowing what it’ll be about. “Hey, Yoon.” he greets, voice loud enough for his car to pick it up perfectly.

“Explain to me in brief words that make sense why Miyun posted a screenshot of you two swiping right on each other on Tinder.” Yoongi begins, but he doesn’t even let him get a word win before continuing. “Unless there’s some kind of interest there, I don’t see why two exes would do that.”

“I did it as a joke—”

“But did she…?” his best friend interrupts, and it positive sends him into a complete silence. “You know that I’m right, Miyun would totally date you again.”

“I know, but I can’t do that and you know very well why, so don’t even start. She also is crushing on Jiwoon’s teacher, and I have a date today, so we’re moving on from everything that happened. We swiped as a joke.”

“You have a date and didn’t tell me—?!”

“I haven’t had the time to think about anything other than work, so I quite honestly just forgot to tell you… It’s a coworker. She was the one asking me out, and I haven’t gone on a date in years, so why not…?” he shrugs, parking his car in Jungkook’s garage.

“Do you two have chemistry?”

“I had never even noticed her before, so I’ll figure that out during the date. Now, if you excuse me, I just got to Jeon’s house, so I have to go.” Taehyung says as he turns the engine off, having to grab his phone when the call disconnects from the car.

“Alright. Enjoy your date, and tell me everything about it once you get home.”

“Of course.” Taehyung’s ending the call when a car parks next to his own. He locks his phone, squinting a little to be able to check who’s arriving, only to see the lady — whose name he still has to learn — that works in Jungkook’s kitchen.

He opens the door, stepping out of the car.

“Hey.” he greets her with a polite smile.

“Oh, hi.” the woman mirrors his grin as she clicks the button to open her trunk. “I thought that you’d be in there already, I didn’t notice you inside the car.”

“I just got here… I was just finishing up a call.” Taehyung shares with a chuckle. “Are you only now arriving? You’re usually already here whenever I come over.”

“No, I just noticed that I was missing a few things for the soup that I’m making for lunch, so I did some grocery shopping. I ended up buying one too many things, which might have been a mistake. He’s been eating way less lately, and I don’t want all of these products to go to waste.” she shares as she closes the doors, a little absent-minded.

“How come he’s been eating less?” he asks.

“Oh, I just noticed that the other day. He’d go through my weekly stock-ups in two or three days whenever he had up-coming fights, and now stocking up weekly actually lasts for the whole week. Well, more than that. I end up having to trash some things.”

“That's concerning.”

The woman halts. “Is it?”

“Yes. And no. But yes.” Taehyung tilts his head. “I’ll be sure to refer this to his doctor… In the meantime, try to make him eat more, because he really doesn’t need his health to start deteriorating while we’re working on his physical recovery.” he grabs his bag, locking his car when she does, too. “I’ll carry that for you…”

“It’s not too heavy, you don’t have to.”

“I insist.” he smiles, picking the grocery store’s bag from her arms, and she thanks him with a smile. “You’ll be seeing me around here more often…”

“I’ve heard… You’ll be coming daily, right?”

Taehyung hums. “How did he take the news?”

“Badly, or so his mom said.” the woman sighs, putting on the code to open the door, and Taehyung gestures for her to walk in first. “How did you take the news?”

“Badly.”

She laughs, albeit weakly. “He’s a good man. Deep down, he’s a good man. He needs help, and I’m really happy that you were the one assigned to him… Had it been anyone else, they probably would’ve given up on him. If not because of his rudeness, then because of how he kept refusing treatment in that first month…”

“I ask myself every single day how the hell I didn’t give up, so I totally understand what you’re saying.” Taehyung admits as he settles the groceries on the large kitchen island. “There are only three other physiotherapists in my team that are specialized specifically in complete paralysis and, knowing them, they would’ve left on the first day and wouldn’t even have looked back.”

“I’ll forever keep you in my prayers, even if this doesn’t work out for him in the end. I’ll think of your kindness.”

“I don’t believe in religion, but I appreciate the gesture.”

“You sounded like him just then.” she comments with a light chuckle as she starts to take the things from the brown paper bag. “He also doesn’t believe in any of it.”

Taehyung hums. “That’s because his big-ass ego would never let him worship anyone but himself.” the woman gives him a look. “Ok, I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

“You two are insufferable.” she shakes her head. “You can’t say a single nice thing about each other. Before you ask, no, he doesn’t talk poorly about you… Unless I ask about the sessions. He doesn’t share anything about them, only complains about you, and that’s it.”

“He’s so goddamn ungrateful, it’s actually insane.” Taehyung sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, enough about this, because I know that I’m about to have to deal with a tantrum about the new schedule… I need to get going to the gym. If he gets there first and I make him wait, he’ll probably throw two tantrums.”

“I’ll make you a sandwich for you to take after you leave… It’ll give you energy for the session after his.”

“You’re a saint.” he bows, already stepping backwards to leave the kitchen that, alone, is almost the size of his apartment. He’ll never understand why celebrities need such houses, especially when he’s sure that they end up not even using half of the space that they have. He simply can’t even imagine Jungkook cooking for himself, so he might have never even used his own kitchen. It’s absurd.

And he hasn’t even seen the whole house, only having been shown parts of it.

Jungkook, ever the hermit crab that doesn’t even leave his bedroom, having space to house a few dozen people, when he lives by himself.

Taehyung realizes then, on his way to the gym, that everything about the athlete annoys him. Jungkook doesn’t even have to do anything for him to find something to complain about. Some of their fights really might be his fault, he admits.

He doesn’t feel guilty, though. Still, he’ll try to change from this very point on.

Unless the athlete is the one starting, he’ll be nice. He’s been exhausted from work, getting home with little to no patience, and he can’t let a complete stranger — whom he kind of despises — have such influence. Taehyung will be nice.

Well, unless Jungkook isn’t.

Thankfully, Taehyung arrives at the gym first. Not by much, given that the door opens as he’s putting his bag down, and he even smiles at the two coming in. “Good morning, Mr. Kim.” the nurse bows politely, and her smile is rather shy, as always.

Taehyung still firmly believes that she’s scared of her boss. Who wouldn’t be.

“Good morning.” Taehyung greets back, and she makes sure that Jungkook’s chair is locked and in place before leaving the room. “You look happy.”

“Fuck off.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and Taehyung feels every nerve in his body telling him to insult the athlete back, but he holds it in. He just made a deal with himself, and he won’t break it in under a minute.

“I’m not happy about the new schedule, either, but it’s for your well-being. The more frequent these sessions are, the faster we’ll start seeing results.” Taehyung speaks as he walks over to his bag, pulling out a pair of black gloves to put on. “You’ll thank your mom later, I’m sure of that.”

“Again, fuck off. I’m not fucking thanking her, or you, or anyone for that matter. You went behind my back to do all of this without me consenting to it.” Jungkook complains, but at least he starts rolling his chair towards the massage table, and not to the exit door.

“She had good intentions.”

“Hell is filled with good intentions.”

“You’re actually—” Taehyung presses his lips together in a thin line, breathes in three times. “Don’t say shit like that about your mom. She only wants what’s best for you. If she went behind your back, it is because she knew that you wouldn’t have said yes… Now shut up, and stop complaining. Get your ass on the table already.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes again, doing everything that he’s been taught so that he can successfully climb onto the massage table. It’s become something fairly easy for him, so Taehyung’s puzzled to see him struggle to move today. It’s weird, and concerning.

“Why are you that stiff?” he asks.

“My neck.” Jungkook answers without answering, still struggling to move too much, but he’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He looks up, and the look on the doctor’s face is questioning enough. “My neck has been hurting, I don’t know why. Today it feels worse.”

“That’s because you’re always so tense. Sit back down.” Taehyung instructs, and he obeys without complaining. Jungkook straightens up even more when he feels two hands cupping the sides of his neck, followed by Taehyung’s thumbs looking for whatever it might be; he finds it soon enough. “I can feel the stress in your muscles, you really need to start relaxing.”

Jungkook simply hums, eyes closing as he enjoys the fingers massaging the sore spots with an amount of pressure that feels just right and needed. He never feels Taehyung’s massages, so it’s the first time that he’s actually able to appreciate it, and it feels great.

Taehyung watches Jungkook through one of the gym mirrors: his eyes closed, mouth slightly parted as both sides of his neck get massaged by Taehyung’s skilled fingers, and the aforementioned has never seen him this relaxed, or without that stressed and angry crinkle on his forehead. Only that one time that he fell asleep.

He presses a little harder where he feels a muscle knot, and it grants him a low groan. “Let me know if I hurt you.” Taehyung instructs. “I want to relieve this stress knot before we start the session, because it takes a long time to go away by itself.”

“Hm, okay…” Jungkook mumbles, fiddling with his own fingers as he contemplates what to say next. He silently weighs the pros and the cons, and the cons are way too many to ignore, far more than the pros, but he still decides to just go for it. “I have something to say.”

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows. “My mood is too good right now, please don’t ruin it by saying some insult—”

“Can you fucking shut up and listen?” Jungkook interrupts, his eyes opening and meeting Taehyung’s through the reflection ahead of them. The elder hums.

“Let’s hear it.” he encourages as his hands start going a little lower to move the massage to where Jungkook’s neck meets his shoulders, fingers now digging harder.

“I told my friends.” he shares.

Taehyung fails to hide his surprise. “You did?” and the athlete simply nods, teeth tugging on the piercing on his bottom lip. “How did they react to the news?”

“They cried… and tried to comfort me.”

“Did they succeed?” Taehyung asks.

“No. I’m ok, there’s no need to comfort me. I don’t like the crying, I don’t like the emotional reactions.” the athlete shrugs, and his answer doesn’t come off as a surprise in the slightest. “I was uncomfortable.”

“It’s a natural response, Jeon. This is hard to take in, it’s a situation that no one expects their loved ones to have to go through. I know that you’ve cried all by yourself, which is upsetting to imagine, because you should have someone whom you’re comfortable e—”

“I don’t cry, Kim. I’m not weak.” Jungkook interrupts.

“Do you think that crying is a sign of weakness?”

“Of course.” he doesn’t miss a beat.

Taehyung is quiet for a few seconds, simply focusing on the massage, and Jungkook closes his eyes again to enjoy it. However, the silence doesn’t last long. “Did boxing do this to you… or were you always like this?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The elder sighs, removing his hands. “Nothing. Enough wasting time, you’re so strong that you shouldn’t feel pain in your neck. Pain is for the weak. Get your ass on the table, we have to start our session and I have yet to prepare the machines that we’ll be using.” Jungkook stares at him through the mirror, unbelieving, but he doesn’t say anything. He shouldn’t have shared a thing, should’ve kept it to himself.

His neck does feel better now, and his shoulders feel lighter than they’ve been for months now, so it’s easy to climb onto the massage table. He discards his own pants, and simply waits for the elder to gather the necessary items to begin the session.

It’s awkward now. He doesn’t even know why he tried having a civil conversation with Taehyung. He should’ve been quiet.

The rest of the session is spent in silence, neither wanting to say anything else that surely would lead to a fight, so Jungkook lies there with his eyes closed, and the doctor focuses on his task. He feels proud of Jungkook for opening up to someone, even if the athlete didn’t appreciate the reactions that he got. However, for multiple reasons that would be considered understandable by everyone, he doesn’t voice it.

His mood is way too good to ruin.

In Jungkook’s eyes, the session is a failure just like all the other ones, and he can’t consider them anything else unless he starts feeling something. It’s hard not to want to give up. He knows that it’s partially his fault, too. He should’ve started sooner.

“We’re done for today, you did well.” Taehyung announces as he steps back, removing his gloves.

“I didn’t do anything.” comes the same answer that he always gives, face void of any emotion while reaching for his sweatpants left on the nearest surface.

“You’re doing what you can for now.” the doctor dismisses his negativity, rolling the chair closer to the table so that the young man can sit back down. “I’ll take you to your room, you should rest your neck.”

“Okay.” Jungkook doesn’t have anything else to say, so he rests his hands on his lap as Taehyung starts pushing him to the door. He fiddles with his lip piercing, something feeling stuck in his throat but he doesn’t even know what that is.

He doesn’t like talking to him.

They’re both silent as they pass the large hallways, only coming to a stop in front of the athlete’s bedroom. “Well, I’ll see y—”

“Taehyung, hi, I’m so glad that you’re still here.” they hear Jungkook’s mother, followed by hurried steps. “I just got a call from his doctor…” she says, so they both turn around to face her, Jungkook taking a few extra seconds to properly do it. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Is everything ok?” Taehyung asks.

“What the hell is this about now?” Jungkook follows.

Taehyung gives him a look. Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“You’re meant to have a few exams and check-ups with some doctors tomorrow. I was already planning on going back home tonight, I’m expected to be at work tomorrow, so it’s impossible for me to go. I was wondering if you could accompany him…?” she smiles, hopeful. “If you have time and, of course, if you don’t mind. I know that Thursdays are your days off, so I’ll understand if you say that you can’t or don’t want to.”

“Mom, what the—”

“I don’t have anything to do in the morning. I can accompany him.” Taehyung interrupts. “I don’t mind.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Taehyung.” her smile spreads to her eyes, and she bows politely. “I’ll make a few calls to get things ready for you tomorrow, excuse me…”

Jungkook waits until she’s out of sight to glare at Taehyung with everything that he has. “Why the actual fuck did you say yes? You could’ve and should’ve said no.”

“Because she looked worried, and she asked politely.”

“I don’t want you to go. It’s already enough dealing with you here.” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to say, his tone cutting and cold. He sounds like the Jungkook from a month ago, when he was even more unapproachable.

“I don’t want to go, either, but I’m a fairly decent person, and I won’t leave you to fend for yourself, or to be accompanied by someone who doesn’t understand anything about your condition and treatment.” he argues, tone matching his. “I’d be bothered by my boss, either way, to join you at some point tomorrow, so l would have to go one way or the other.”

Jungkook presses his lips together. “Fine.” he turns around, opening his bedroom door to leave the conversation exactly like that, recognizing that there’s nothing to do to fight the inevitable.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately.”

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  So, he’ll be there to see me at a fucking low. Great job, mom
|  They’re going to ask questions that I’m going to give pitiful answers to, and they’re going to tell me things that are going to make me want to give up on everything even harder, because they can’t possibly have good news for me when nothing has changed, and I’ll have to deal with that in front of someone that I hate and hates me
|  I hope that I don’t wake up tomorrow or something

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Going on a date after so long is weird. He considers himself to be very extroverted, he doesn’t get shy easily, but sitting across from someone whom he doesn’t know the first thing about, is awkward.

Taehyung learned her name, Nari, only after being asked out and realizing that he didn’t even know what she was called. He had to ask around, unwilling to let her know that he truly hadn’t even noticed her in the hospital before, when she’s been interested in him. He’s not actively looking for a relationship, thus why he deleted all of the dating apps that he tried once, but trying to settle down, adventure with someone new, could be good. He needs the thrill back in his life.

That’s the only reason why he agreed to the date.

Now, with a bottle of wine in front of them, and their starters already on the table, he struggles to find what to ask, or where to begin. Dates with strangers are hard. He prefers relationships that start naturally.

“So…” Taehyung is the one to start after taking a sip from the red wine. “Tell me about yourself. I only know your name, and I’d like to learn more.” he requests.

“Well, my name is Nira, as you already know. I’m twenty-seven, and I’ve been working at the hospital for three months. I have a cat named Sock, because he’d always steal my socks when he was a little baby, and I live by myself. Let’s see… I love going to the gym, the movies, and I love hiking, and running. I’m a very active person. Your turn now, I don’t know what to say.”

“My name’s Taehyung, and I’m twenty-five. I’ve been working there since I finished my degree, and I love it there. I have a dog named Yeontan, he’s not very big, but he’s cute. I don’t really like physical activities, so you wouldn’t be able to drag me on a hike or anything of the sort. I do enough exercise by carrying patients.”

“Oh, that’s so sad! I was already counting on us being athletic together.” Nira notes as she takes a piece of buttery bread into her mouth, whereas Taehyung only takes another sip of his wine. “Go on, though…”

“I don’t really like the cinema, either, I prefer to watch movies at home in pajamas and loads of snacks. I do enjoy going to the beach, especially late in the afternoon to catch the sunset… Music, reading.”

“I genuinely don’t remember the last time that I picked up a book, I couldn’t tell you.” Nira chuckles. “Also, I love the sunset, we could maybe go watch it sometime… But not at the beach, I kind of hate sand. It just gets all over, doesn’t it? It’s horrible.”

Taehyung stares at her in silence for a few seconds, processing how they don’t have a single thing in common. Well, except for liking the sunset, but everyone loves watching the sunset. He doesn’t feel any chemistry, no pull. He already knows that they wouldn’t get anywhere. She’s pretty, but that’s it.

Maybe they’ll find something that they both like. There’s still a chance.

“I must tell you something before we go on with this date…” Taehyung prefaces. “I have a son, he’s eight years old, and I know that this is a big turn off for some people, so I’m letting you know from the very start.”

“Oh.” her face falls, which isn’t a surprise anymore. “I don’t— I’m not a kid’s person... I don’t see kids in the cards for me. I’m sorry, but that’s something that I’m not willing to change. I was very interested, you’re super attractive, but kids are not for me.”

“I totally understand that.” Taehyung assures, and weirdly enough, part of him is relieved. He doesn’t quite know why. “I say we still finish dinner, though, because this is looking promising.” he offers, because he’s hungry and he’s not about to pass on a good meal after such a long day at work. “What do you say?”

“I say that… unless you have anything to do after dinner, we can finish this at my place.” Nira suggests, the wine glass back on her lips as she suggestively looks up through her lashes. Taehyung understands the implications right away, and it makes him chuckle.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Let’s enjoy our food, then.”

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  Well, date update: we have absolutely nothing in common and she doesn’t like or want kids, but I’m tweeting this as I’m leaving her place so at least there was something to enjoy there besides the food

|  ──  0% patience left 🔒 (@uncleyoongi)
|  ──  No way you fucked on the first date

|  ────  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  ────  There won’t be a second, so… yep

Chapter Text

Taehyung sighs as he turns the key to switch off his engine, and flips down the sun visor to check himself in the little mirror. He’s managed to hide the marks a little better after his best friend pointed them out, but they’re still visible and, not being a workday, Taehyung realizes that he just doesn’t really care.

The last thing that he worries about is what Jungkook thinks when he’s not his boss. Jungkook is not his boss today. Taehyung’s there as a courtesy to his mother.

He fixes his hair one last time, before flipping the mirror back up and opening his door to get out, keys in hand. There’s a black van parked that he’s never seen, or noticed, before, and he assumes that that’s what they’ll be driving to the hospital.

Well, he’ll be driving.

He’s on the way to the door, when he hears low chattering and the sound of the wheels on the pavement, followed by the door opening. Jungkook’s dressed in his usual attire, sweatpants and a hoodie, whereas his nurse has a pink pair of scrubs on today.

“Good morning.” he greets them.

“Hi, Mr. Kim…” the woman smiles, warm. Jungkook only gives him a look that isn’t a glare, which is enough of a greeting, considering who it’s coming from. It’s also better than nothing. “Will you help me switch Mr. Jeon to the van?” she asks as they finally come to a stop in front of him, and part of him wants to say that he doesn’t really want to work on his day off, that accompanying Jungkook is already enough of a hassle.

“I’ll do that, don’t worry.” he instructs, and the nurse smiles before pressing a small button on the keys to unlock the doors. Taehyung opens the one on the passenger side, pushing the seat as further back as it goes, to be sure that Jungkook will be comfortable.

Jungkook watches in silence, his eyes shifting between the two: he doesn’t fail to notice how his nurse doesn’t look away from his doctor, her smile still present. He always notices it, and it annoys him every single time. He simply chooses to ignore. It works.

“Alright…” Taehyung says to himself, bending down near the athlete to slide an arm under his arms. “Hold onto me, otherwise I’m going to drop you face-first on the floor, and you wouldn’t like that.” he warns when he doesn’t move a single inch.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in annoyance, fitting his arm around the elder’s shoulders for support. The fact that Taehyung can pick him up with significant ease surprises him every time. He’s heavy, and he knows that very well.

The way that he’s placed his arm positively messes up the strategic way that Taehyung had placed his shirt so that his hickeys from the night before wouldn’t show, but Jungkook decides not to spare a second glance instead of commenting on the lack of professionalism.

He also doesn’t have anything to do with the doctor’s personal life, and it would, most definitely, lead to an argument that he doesn’t need. He’s stressed enough.

Taehyung carries him to the car, sitting him on the passenger side. “Do you want me to pull the seat forward a bit?” he asks as Jungkook clicks on the seatbelt, unwilling to accept help with that.

“No.” the answer is cold and short, just as expected.

“Alright.” Taehyung nods, turning back to help the young woman by folding and storing Jungkook’s wheelchair in the trunk. It’s an easy task, one that he’s more than used to, given that he has to handle wheelchairs every single day.

And, again, Jungkook just waits with his elbow resting on the door and hand lazily holding the side of his head: bored and impatient. He’s never liked hospitals, to the point where he waited a whole week before checking a broken rib once, and he doesn’t like the company. He wishes that he could go alone. He could’ve paid someone to drive him, and just attend the consultations by himself, instead of having to receive bad news with a complete stranger by his side.

Jungkook perks up when he hears the trunk closing, and watches in silence as Taehyung walks around the front of the car to get to the driver’s side, only for his name to be called by the young nurse.

“Mr. Kim, would you like to… save my number? In case you need anything at the hospital, or— or need to tell me anything regarding the check-ups.” she offers with a smile, and Jungkook rolls his eyes as he puts on a facemask — he can’t have people taking pictures of him, and this way no one will recognize him.

“Oh, we’ll be fine.” Taehyung waves a dismissive hand.

“Well, then maybe for you to call for my help when you get back?” the woman tries again, smile slowly disappearing when she notices the faint purple marks on the other’s neck. Jungkook wants to perish.

“It’s ok, don’t worry. Take the time to rest, while we’re away.” he smiles, bows, before opening the door to sit behind the steering wheel. Taehyung fastens his seatbelt, and fixes all of the mirrors as the athlete adds a pair of sunglasses to his outfit for even more coverage; one can never be too safe.

“You’re dense.” Jungkook decides to say when the other starts driving, staring out of the window as he doesn’t know

“I’m… what?” Taehyung tilts his head, puzzled.

“Dense. A good fucking amount.” he accuses. “She wanted you to keep her number because she’s into you. She’s not awkward when you’re around because she’s scared of me, as you said the other day. She’s awkward because she’s into vou. For some reason.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Or maybe she just wanted us to exchange numbers so that I could let her know if anything happened to you, since it’s our job.”

“She looked upset when she saw your neck. Besides, I heard her.” the driver only makes a low sound that urges him to go on. “Yesterday. She was talking to my mother in the kitchen. She thinks that you’re attractive, or whatever. I didn’t care to listen any longer than that, so that’s all that I have to share.”

“Hm, I see.” Taehyung nods. “I’m not actively looking for a relationship right now, so she’s out of luck.”

“You’re not dating?” he inquires.

“Nope.”

“Hm. I assumed that you were.”

Taehyung chuckles, looking away from the road for a split second, only to find the younger man still looking out of the tinted window. “I’m dating just because I have a few hickeys on my neck? I didn’t take you for a prude.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I’m not about to fight you, so just drive and shut up. I’d like us to be silent from now on.”

“You initiated the conversation.” Taehyung points.

“And I’m now ending it.” he says, irritated. Just as he wished for, neither speaks a word for the rest of the drive to the hospital, only letting the radio fill up the car.

The amount of security waiting for them at the hospital is something that Taehyung has never dealt with, and can’t even understand how some people handle it every single day. Jungkook seems to be used to it.

They’re led through the corridors intended only for staff, which Taehyung understands. Jungkook doesn’t want to be seen, and Taehyung knows that it would ruin his mental state even more if it happened.

“You can wait here, and your first doctor will be there with you shortly.” the man informs, politely opening the door for them to get in the room, only to quickly close it before Taehyung even has the time to thank him.

The consulting room is bigger than what Taehyung’s used to seeing there, and it seems more equipped. Not that the hospital isn’t properly equipped in every room, but he can definitely spot a few tools that he’s never seen since he’s been working there.

Taehyung stops the chair in front of the desk where the doctor will be sitting, and chooses to sit by the window, close enough to hear and answer any question that may be directed at him, but far enough to give them privacy and not to feel like he’s intruding.

He grabs his phone, figuring that he can busy himself on social media as they wait for the doctor, when he hears a low curse coming from the other.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, confused.

“Can’t you hear some kid crying?” Jungkook points to the door, and Taehyung has to focus in order to hear the faint cry coming from somewhere else in the hospital. “Kids are so fucking annoying.” he adds.

“Hm, yeah. Crying kids can be annoying.” Taehyung nods, his eyes falling back to the screen of his phone as he starts reading a new post from one of his friends.

“Kids in general.” Jungkook mumbles.

“Huh?”

“I can’t stand kids in general.” he clarifies.

“Do you not want to have kids one day?” Taehyung asks, a little absent-minded, not even looking up from the answer that he starts typing. He already knows what the athlete thinks about kids, so he knows the kind of answer that he’ll get — besides, he’s not curious, he’s simply letting the conversation flow.

“Absolutely not. I’ve had that surgery done. That thing that you can get so that you can’t have kids. Thankfully.” Jungkook says, and that does get Taehyung to look at him.

“You’ve already had a vasectomy at twenty-three?”

“So what?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “It’s very tricky to reverse it, and in most cases, it doesn’t even fully work. I just hope that you never find anyone that makes you regret such a drastic decision when you’re so young.”

“I’d never want to go back with my decision. I loathe children.” he shares, and he doesn’t even know why he’s doing so; there’s no reason for him to talk about his likes or dislikes, or to even attempt at a normal conversation with Taehyung.

“Honestly, I used to think like that.” Taehyung starts, but quickly realizes that he doesn’t want to share such a big detail about himself as an individual, and not as a professional. He doesn’t want Jungkook to know anything about him, other than the necessary. “But I do like kids now.” is what he goes with.

Jungkook visibly cringes. “If I got a girl pregnant, I’d have to make her get an abortion, and that’d be bad for my name. I’m better safe than sorry.”

That does make Taehyung sit up straighter while locking his phone. “Dude, you can’t fucking make women, or people in general, do whatever you want.”

“You can when you’re me.”

“You’re such a spoiled, annoying prick, fucking Christ.”

Jungkook gives him a look. “Because I don’t like kids?”

Taehyung scoffs. “Because you think that you have a say in everything, and think that you get to dictate what everyone around you does. You think that you can get whatever you want, whenever you want, and things don’t work like that. The world doesn’t spin around you and your big ass, ego-inflated head.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I don’t want to—”

“People beg me to even look at them. I can do whatever I want, get whatever and whoever the hell I want, whenever I want.” Jungkook shrugs, his tone too cocky to be acceptable, and Taehyung can’t believe his ears. He can’t believe the nerve.

“You’re way too fucking grown for me to give you a lesson on how to have basic human decency, so I’ll just not continue this conversation.” he gets his phone again, the grip on the object considerably harsher.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, refraining from accusing him of being impossible to talk to, and simply rests his weight on the chair to wait for the first doctor.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook’s fed up. He’s already seen three doctors, and he’s been moved around way too much for his liking. He’s been weighed, something that he used to do three times a day, but hasn’t done since the accident; he’s had his blood drawn, and had x-rays taken — not to mention the tortuously slow ultrasound examination of his legs.

The worst part has got to be the fact that they didn’t explain a single result to him, claiming that his actual assigned doctor will tell him everything at the end.

Taehyung hasn’t moved from the chair, the doctors claiming not to need his help when they have two nurses in the room to assist them, so he’s just been observing everything with utmost attention. He can tell that Jungkook hates it all. It’s crystal clear.

The athlete has looked bothered since they got started, but it’s even worse now, and Taehyung is even more focused because of that. They’re listening to a nutritionist, the young woman explaining everything in detail, but he can tell that all of her words are going into one of Jungkook’s ears, and out of the other.

“…looking at your weight change, and considering the lifestyle that you had prior to your accident, we have to find a way to keep this under control. I understand that you must’ve had rigorous diets before, but you can’t carry them on anymore. You need a balanced meal plan now, so that you can prevent gaining too much weight from the lack of exercise, and prevent losing too much weight, because you won’t lose just fat. You’ll lose muscle and body mass, too, since you no longer exercise the way that your body was used to.”

The woman explains everything cautiously, words slow and sentences well phrased, but Jungkook isn’t really listening. He nods, because that’s an easy way to pretend, and she seems to buy it. Good.

“Have you been eating well?” she asks.

“Yes.” Jungkook says, almost robotically.

“He only eats salads and vegetable smoothies.” the other has to add, speaking up for the first time. He can’t possibly let Jungkook lie about something that important. “He hasn’t been eating well at all.” Jungkook glares at him, the kind of glare that surely scares anyone that gets targeted by it, but not him. He doesn’t even blink, simply stares back.

“Alright, that has to change.” she grabs their attention again. “I’ll come up with a plan for you, as I can tell that you still want to keep things in check, and I’ll send it through…” he tunes out right away.

He has a team of highly competent people — that he’s refused to see since the accident, but still — and he doesn’t trust anyone but them with the right diet for an athlete. Besides, he’s always liked to plan his own diet.

Taehyung remains focused for the rest of the consultation, listening to everything that she says as he can see that Jungkook isn’t paying attention, and he’ll be sure to tell the latter’s cook about all of it, so that she’ll change the food that she prepares.

Jungkook, on the other hand, just stares at her blankly until she has to leave to let the next doctor in, and he proceeds to push all of the received information to the very back of his head. He doesn’t care about it.

He doesn’t listen to the doctor introducing himself, for the simple reason that he doesn’t want to, nor does he want to be there any longer. Going to the hospital was a big mistake, and he can’t stop fidgeting with his rings. It’s stressing him out.

“…Mr. Jeon?” his head twitches as his eyes regain focus, and the doctor offers a warm smile. “How are you adapting to the new… life?” he repeats his question, and Jungkook’s eyes shift to the chair to his right, finding Taehyung right by his side. When did he move? Why was he asked to sit by his side?

Taehyung can tell that Jungkook’s hesitating to answer, so he looks away from him in hopes that it’ll help the athlete feel less watched, less pressured.

“It’s getting… easier to do stuff.” Jungkook starts, his fingers starting to pick on the sides of his nails. “It’s not that hard. The hardest part was to—” he stops for a moment, side-eyeing Taehyung once again. “The hardest part was to learn what it felt like when I needed to, like, pee. Shit like that… Yeah. I just want to walk again now, that’s all.”

“That’s why you have Dr. Kim.”

Jungkook hums. “Sure.”

“But, please, tell me more about how you’ve been adapting, so that I know whether we should work on anything in specific, or if you need any more equipment at home.” the older man encourages, linking his fingers on top of the desk with the pen between them.

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook deadpans.

“Extremely.”

“I can’t see now.”

“Jungkook, c’mon.” Taehyung reprehends, his tone low yet still calm and only for him to hear. “Just answer the question.”

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, his jaw tensing. “It’s been easy lately. It was— It was a challenge at first, but I manage to do things by myself now. I don’t need more equipment, nor do l need to sit here having these useless conversations. I just need to start walking.” Taehyung shakes his head, but doesn’t even say anything. It’s useless, and it’ll fly right past Jungkook’s head just like everything else that he chooses to ignore.

“I cannot help you in that department. Again, that’s why you have Dr. Kim. I can help you with the way that you deal with things, and the way that you feel—”

“I truly don’t want to carry on with this. You can go, and bring my doctor in. Unless the results aren’t ready. In that case, you can just go and we’ll wait for him.” he interrupts as he gestures to the door. “I don’t need or want to talk about feelings, that’s not what I’m here for.”

The man nods, closing his notes and standing up. “As you wish. I cannot force you into a conversation, so I’ll respect your wishes. I’ll let your doctor know that you’re ready to see him whenever he, too, is ready.”

“Good.”

Taehyung sighs, watching helplessly as the other walks out of the room. “You’re genuinely unbelievable.” he comments, but he doesn’t sound angry.

“Don’t start.” Jungkook cuts him off.

“As you wish.” he says as he stands, taking a few steps away from him. It’s hard not to get frustrated whenever Jungkook behaves like this, because he can’t even begin to imagine how much the young man is bottling in. He needs to speak, to open up.

He’ll only make himself more and more miserable.

They wait in silence for the doctor to come in, and Taehyung stands a mere foot behind Jungkook’s chair as the man settles down his papers on the desk, still getting comfortable. On the contrary, Jungkook’s never felt this uncomfortable in his life. For the first time, he hates the silence; he hates the wait, the tension.

“Alright, Mr. Jeon…” he starts, finally looking up at him with an understanding look in his eyes. “I reviewed your charts, and your results, and it took me a while because I was gathering second opinions from professionals specialized in the variate areas that we examined today, so that I could give you a more solid perspective on all of this.”

Jungkook gulps. That doesn’t sound good. That’s certainly not a good start

“I don’t want to get too technical, otherwise you won’t understand everything that I want you to hear from me, so please, let me know if you have any questions.”

“Just get on with it.” Jungkook urges, impatient.

“Alright… We haven’t been able to observe any real improvement, which we’d expect to see after almost two months of physiotherapy…” Taehyung can barely hide his frustration when he hears those words, because only he and Jungkook know how long it took him to actually start his physiotherapy sessions.

There’s no way to know for sure whether things would be different if they had started sooner, but the uncertainty is enough to frustrate him in ways that he can’t even explain. Things could be different. Or not.

And Jungkook can only anxiously tug on his lip piercing, the guilt feeling like a punch to the gut. He doesn’t know if the wait is the single reason why he’s still in such a state, but he chooses to believe that his initial pride and denial aren’t the cause.

If he lets himself believe otherwise, it’ll consume him.

“We were able to see how your muscles don’t appear to be atrophying, which is very good, but that’s not our main concern. Therapy is working when it comes to that, but it’ll inevitably start happening if you don’t start showing… real improvement. By that I mean, start regaining your sensations, so that you can start working on strengthening your muscles again.”

“Can I get a copy of his exams?” Taehyung speaks from behind him, and Jungkook realizes how he’d almost forgotten that he was there, too disturbed by the news. “I’d like to see them, if that’s possible.”

“We’ve already arranged that, doctor Kim.” the doctor smiles, looking right back at the athlete. “We’ve also taken note of the weight loss, and I advise you not to let that continue, because it’ll only be worse for your recovery.”

“So… The only thing that I’m hearing, is that there hasn’t been any progress.”

“But on the other hand, there hasn’t been any—”

“I asked a simple question.” his voice wavers, and while his doctor misses it, Taehyung doesn’t. “I asked you one question, so answer it.”

“If you want me to answer that question alone, then no, there hasn’t been any progress. Good news is, you can remove the cast from your finger. It appears to be properly healed.” the man tries to look on the bright side, but he can see how it doesn’t do any good. If anything, Jungkook’s expression only turns sourer.

Taehyung clears his throat. “Could you give it a minute before resuming?” he requests, gesturing to the door. “If you don’t mind.”

“Surely, of course.” the doctor stands back up, bowing. “I’ll return shortly. I’ll let you process this information. Once I’m back, we’ll discuss this a little better, before taking care of the cast on your finger so that you can go home. I can tell that you really want to go.” he smiles, bowing once again before leaving the room.

The silence is thick, uncomfortable, and unsettling.

“Are you alright?” Taehyung asks quietly.

There’s a moment of silence, before Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “My legs had zero improvement, but congratu-fucking-lations, my fucking finger isn’t broken anymore.” he looks at the cast, his face closed off.

Taehyung can hear the emotion in his voice, which is a first, but the athlete is still doing a good job at keeping his face void of any expression. His eyes, on the other hand, look a little too glossy. Taehyung has no idea of how to handle a crying Jungkook if that’s what’s about to happen, but he couldn’t imagine a better scenario.

“You can cry.” he encourages. “It’ll feel good.”

He can’t even imagine the pressure that Jungkook has been pushing down and down in himself since the accident, but crying would be the best thing for him. Allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of someone would be good; great, even. Jungkook needs that. He needs to learn how to be vulnerable, how to let others be there for him, instead of stubbornly keeping it all in.

“I don’t cry.” Jungkook looks up at the lights, blinking a couple of times. Again, Taehyung doesn’t miss it. “I don’t fucking cry, this is just so goddamn ridiculous.” he adds, that waver back in his voice that Taehyung has never heard before today. “All of this is just so fucking ridiculous.”

Taehyung can tell that, despite the news, today still won’t be the day that Jungkook lets down his walls and shows any sign of weakness, but he’s not about to force him into it, either. It worries him. As much as he hates Jungkook, as much as the man annoys and infuriates him, he’s still worried.

Without a word, he steps closer and, very hesitantly, places his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. He gives it a little squeeze, trying to convey any sort of reassurance that the athlete may need at the moment, and he’s positively surprised that his hand doesn’t get slapped away in that same instance.

Jungkook glances at the other’s hand, watches as said squeeze happens, and simply closes his eyes. He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. He feels like a loser, a failure for showing no improvement, but also feels guilty for having held back the sessions for so long. He feels betrayed, for some reason, for believing it when Taehyung told him that it’d all work out.

He should’ve known better. He desperately needs his room now.

He needs to be alone with himself, needs to cry his damn eyes out.

“I want to go home now.” he whispers, but it sounds like an order, just as he intended. “I want to go.” he repeats as he shrugs the hand away, panic starting to bubble.

“I’ll go get the doctor, we’ll go as soon as your cast is removed.” Taehyung assures, and he simply nods. He doesn’t voice it, but he’s thankful for that.

He’s had enough of hospitals and doctors for the day.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

The drive is awkward. Well, for Taehyung, it is. For the younger man, not so much, simply because his mind is too occupied to focus on the pin-dropping silence. He can’t stop thinking, and each thought spirals into darker, worse thoughts, and there’s a lump in his throat that is definitely not going away until he screams into his pillow, and there’s guilt and panic bubbling in his stomach, and his finger is already bleeding from how hard he’s been scratching at the sides of his nail, and his stomach is growling, and, and, and.

It doesn’t end. He’s going to cry his poor eyes out the moment that he sees himself alone, which he’s kind of dreading. He doesn’t know how good that’ll be.

He’s getting tired of crying in the dark of his room.

Taehyung sighs, purposely missing a turn. Jungkook notices it right away; he’s lived there for long enough to know the streets, and that’s not the way to his house. “Where are you going?” he asks, his voice a little strained. He's too stressed, and it’s showing.

“Shh.” Taehyung quiets him, not in a rude manner, and he’s too overwhelmed and too tired to say anything, so he simply stares out the window again while the other drives. He looks around again when they start pulling up somewhere. “A little detour...”

“What are we doing here?” Jungkook asks with his eyebrows furrowed, eyes blankly staring at the bright, yellow McDonald’s symbol by his window.

“It’s almost three, and I haven’t had lunch. Neither have you. I don’t know whether you’ve even had breakfast or not, so we’re having lunch before we go back, because your stomach has been growling the whole way.” Taehyung explains, slowly driving behind the other car headed to the drive-through.

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not having fast food.”

Taehyung pauses. “You’ve never had McDonald’s?”

“No. Obviously.”

It takes the other a second to process such a thing. “I have never met anyone who hasn’t had McDonald’s at least once. We’re having it, you’ll try it today.”

“No.” he quickly says. “I can’t eat fast food.”

“You heard the doctors, Jungkook. You can’t keep your crazy diets any longer, or you’re going to start disappearing.” Taehyung speaks with more seriousness, looking at him. “Break the rules for once, eat something else other than leaves and fruits. I promise that you won’t gain ten kilos of fat from having a damn chicken nugget bag. It’s not going to happen. You have my word on that.”

Jungkook tugs on his lip ring, before meeting his eyes. “They have nuggets?”

“Do you like chicken nuggets?”

“The ones with veggies, and no oils, yeah.” he nods.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll order you a chicken salad, if you try a bag of chicken nuggets. It’s only a bag of four, so it’s really not much.”

“Are they fried with oils, though?”

“It’s fucking McDonald’s. Of course.” Taehyung shrugs.

“Then I don’t wan—” Jungkook’s positively interrupted when Taehyung shushes him and waves a hand for him to shut up, already pulling up to the window. “I—”

“Hi, good afternoon.” Taehyung greets with cheer in his voice, and Jungkook’s left frowning. “Could I please get a chicken salad, and some chicken nuggets…” he turns back to the athlete. “What do you want to drink?” Jungkook presses his lips together, unimpressed.  “C’mon, they’re waiting.”

“Water.” he gives in.

“Good. Add a bottle of water with that… And I’d also like a number two with a bag of chicken nuggets, as well, please.” Taehyung finishes their other, leaning towards the window. Jungkook runs a stressed hand through his hair, unsure of how to get out of the situation that he’s finding himself in.

He only looks back up when he feels a bag being placed over his hand on his lap, and he can hear the driver thanking whoever gave them the food, but he’s too busy doing the math on the calories.

Taehyung drives away, slowly, looking for a place nearby to park again so that they can eat, and he’s thrilled to find a spot in an empty parking lot. He turns off the engine, and drags his seat back so that he’ll nave more space to move. He leaves the radio on to fill in the silence so that it’s not awkward.

“There you go, that’s yours…” he says as he hands over the salad. “The water is yours, too. And… there.” Taehyung gives him the bottle and the small paper bag with the nuggets. Jungkook picks up the salad first, turning it over to try to find the nutritional information, only to have the plastic container taken from his hands.

Taehyung rips the label, crumbling it in his palm. “Dude, I was go—”

“You were going to read it, but there’s nothing to read anymore, so you’re just going to enjoy the salad.” he gestures as he takes one of his fries to his mouth. “But first, try the nugget. You’ll like it, I’m sure.”

Jungkook stares at him for a few long seconds, before glancing down at the paper bag. It smells like fried food, but it does smell quite appealing at the same time. He’s always kept away from fast food, though.

Hesitantly, he reaches into the bag to get the first piece out. It’s almost a perfect circle, and it smells good, in a way. However, Taehyung is left flabbergasted when he starts trying to peel off the outside layer. “Are you peeling off a fucking chicken nugget?”

“I don’t want the fried part.”

“You’re genuinely giving me a headache.”

“Jesus fuck, fine, you’re so annoying.” Jungkook gives up, taking a bite out of the crunchy piece, the doctor’s eyes never once leaving his own. He munches.

“So?” Taehyung asks, eating another fry.

“It’s… good.” he admits, inspecting it with his eyes before taking another bite from it. Taehyung smiles, and it’s the first genuine smile that Jungkook has seen on his face directed at him. “Alright, stop that.”

“Just enjoy this meal without thinking too much. You’ll make yourself fall in a hole that you won’t be able to get out of if you start going that route. Your career is on a break, so let the diets be on a break, too.” Taehyung encourages, changing the radio station to something a little more upbeat.

Jungkook tugs on the ring on his bottom lip, opening the lid of the salad. It looks a little greasy, and he can see the oils in the small pieces of chicken, but he simply picks some up with the plastic fork given to him, and takes it to his mouth. “I can’t believe that I’m doing this. Really.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Do you want a bite of my bur—”

“God, no.” he leans away.

“Hm. I’ll be content with today’s progress for now.” the doctor almost sing-songs as he takes a bite from his burger, and Jungkook looks out of the window as he munches on his salad. His shoulders feel lighter.

He’s now glad that he’s not in his room crying alone.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I don’t feel as gross after eating that thing as I’d expect to. It was actually tasty…
|  But I still only had 2/4, he ate the other 2
|  Now that I’m alone in my room, I can’t cry. There’s so much to cry about, yet I can’t. Somehow. I feel like I have no more tears left to cry, even if my throat burns and my eyes keep stinging
|  I think I feel lonely…
|  l appreciated the fact that we didn’t come home immediately. I would’ve cried myself into a panic attack. I just feel empty. I don’t feel like crying, I’m not upset, I’m not scared… I don’t feel anything
|  It was nice to have a distraction…

Chapter Text

“Hey, big man.” Taehyung calls as he parks, eyeing his son through the rearview mirror. “Are you still awake or have you fallen asleep again?” he asks.

“Dad, my soul is still in my bed.” the young boy jokes as he takes a bite from his breakfast, the food neatly wrapped in foil so that he doesn’t make a mess of crumbs on the backseat. “Can we go back…?”

“Absolutely not, you’re not missing school just because you’re sleepy.” he shrugs, resuming their drive once the light turns green. “I don’t even want to hear a word about it, otherwise you’ll be grounded for a month.”

“You’re mean…!” Jiwoon drags.

“Mhm, and you’re a brat.” Taehyung reaches behind his own seat, finding his son’s leg to tickle; that grants him a laugh that he loves. “I’ll hide all of the remotes so that you can’t sneak out to watch anything again.”

“The movie was too interesting, dad.” the boy says through a pout, taking another bite. “I’m grown enough to stay up past my bedtime sometimes.” he argues.

“You’re a baby.”

“I don’t have any baby teeth, so that’s not true.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “You’re getting too witty.”

“What does that mean?” he whines.

“If you were grown, you’d know. Have you finished eating?” Taehyung asks, eyeing him again through the mirror. “Put the foil in the little space on the door, don’t leave it on the floor like last time.”

“That was my twin…” Jiwoon sing-songs as he wraps the aluminum foil in a little ball that he then puts in the small compartment on the door. “Not me.”

“Gosh, that’d be a nightmare. Two of you? Jesus.” he teases, laughing when he hears the immediate noise of offense and disbelief. “We’re here, little one.”

“Oh, Mr. Choo said that he wants to talk to you, you have to come in.” Jiwoon informs as he unfastens his seatbelt. “I forgot to tell you.” he shrugs.

“Did you get in trouble again?” Taehyung asks, parking the car a little better since he’ll be staying, and Jiwoon busies himself by putting on his backpack.

“No, I didn’t. I don’t know what he wants to talk to you about.” the boy quickly defends himself, and Taehyung hums. “Really.”

“We’ll see about that.” he gets out of the car, walking around to help his son climb out, and closes the door behind him. “Go to your friends, I’ll find your teacher.”

“Okay.” Jiwoon smiles, holding his fist out for his father to meet it with his own, the way that they usually say goodbye whenever he’s dropped off at school. “Bye…!”

“Bye, kiddo.” Taehyung watches as he rushes with his backpack to a group of boys, and Taehyung does his best to remember the way to Jiwoon’s classroom; it’s been a while since he’s been there, given that the meetings are never in the same place.

He finds that he has good visual memory, successfully getting to the classroom without getting lost. He knocks twice, peeks his head inside. “Hey?” he calls.

“Mr. Kim, come in.” the teacher speaks from his desk, and Taehyung walks inside the classroom with the same confusion on his face that he’s had for minutes now. “You must be asking yourself why I wanted to see you so out of nowhere…”

“Yes, I am. Did Jiwoon get in trouble again?”

“No, not at all. He seems to have learned his lesson well from last time… What brings you here is, well, uhm—” the teacher clears his throat, tugging on his too-tight collar. “I came to learn the reason behind the fight, as we had a conversation about it, and… and I wanted to talk to you about it. This has nothing to do with Jiwoon, he’s a great kid, he never misbehaves.”

“You brought me here to talk about his mother?”

“In a way, yes.” the man nods. “Jiwoon doesn’t speak much about his home-life, as most kids do, so l haven’t been able to understand whether you’re together or not, and I feel horrible whenever Miyun— I mean, his mother stays longer to have a chat.” he explains, cheeks red. “That’s why I wanted to see you today.”

“As long as it’s not unethical or, like, illegal, I don’t really care. Miyun and I aren’t together anymore, she can talk to whomever she wants. I do appreciate the fact that you’re asking me, though. I just ask you not to be too obvious about it in front of Jiwoon, he still has a hard time dealing with the fact that his parents aren’t together.” Taehyung requests with a little shrug.

“I-I wouldn’t even think about it.” he assures.

“Good. Then I don’t really care about it. You can have as many chats with Miyun as you’d like.” the teacher smiles, which makes Taehyung mirror the action. “Now, was that all? I really have to go, I have to get to work. If there’s nothing else, and there’s nothing about Jiwoon, then I’ll get going.” he gestures to the door.

“Oh, of course, yes. I’m sorry for stealing your time like this, especially since it’s nothing about your son…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Taehyung dismisses, bowing politely. “Have a good day.” he wishes, already turning around on his heels to leave the classroom.

“You too, Mr. Kim.” the teacher adds.

Taehyung chuckles to himself once he’s back on the halls outside, quickly getting his phone from the pocket of his black scrubs. Miyun will be pleased to know about what just happened, he’s sure, so he immediately dials her number. “Hey.” she greets.

“Jiwoon’s teacher held me back to talk when I dropped our boy off.” he reveals without even greeting her, and she gasps on the other side. “I thought that you’d very much like to know about this.”

“I do, indeed. Tell me about it.”

“What do I gain from this?” he tests.

Miyun hums. “What do you wish to gain from this?”

“Hm… Jiwoon staying at yours tonight would be nice.” Taehyung decides.

“Why?” the woman asks, curious. “I mean, yes, of course, I love it when he sleeps over at my place, but why…?”

“I got invited to go out with colleagues, and I told them that I’d check with you first, because I’m not so sure that I’ll go home for the night… I’d rather have him stay at your house than you going over to babysit him and then I don’t even show up.” Taehyung explains, already getting into his car and turning on the engine.

“Whore.” Miyun teases. “I’ll definitely look after him, though, you can go and enjoy your night out… Sleep with whoever you want. Now speak, I’m waiting.” she urges.

“He wanted to make sure that we weren’t together anymore so that he doesn’t have to feel bad whenever you stay back to talk to me. I felt bad for the guy, he kept stuttering and could barely hold eye contact with me.” he chuckles, remembering.

“Yeah, he’s a little shy… That’s why I find him so cute.” Miyun giggles. “Anyway, thank you so much for calling, I’ll take this as some confirmation that he does like me back and that it wasn’t just me being delusional. I’ll have to go back to work now…”

“I have to start driving, too, so I’ll see you later.”

“See you, Tae.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung grabs his bag and everything that he needs, before heading out to enter the house. He doesn’t have time to put in the code to open the door, though, as it’s open for him. Jungkook’s nurse looks worried. “Is everything ok?” he asks, puzzled.

“Well, I think so.” she scratches the back of her head. “I don’t know where he is, he’s disappeared. He was in his room just twenty minutes ago… I checked in on him, but I was going to get him now to take him to your session, and he’s not there.”

Taehyung blinks. “Maybe he was in the bathroom…?”

“No, I called. I’ve searched pretty much every room…”

He looks away, giving it a thought. Jungkook couldn’t have gotten too far, of that he’s certain, and if she’s searched all of the rooms, then that only leaves him with the outside to check. The indoor pool on the lower floor is out of Jungkook’s reach, given that he couldn’t have gone down the stairs, so that’s out of the equation — unless there’s an elevator that he doesn’t know of. The athlete must be outside.

“I’ll find him.” Taehyung says, bowing politely before walking past her. The gardens in the back are enormous, he remembers so from when he got a quick house tour from Jungkook’s mother, but he’s never been there; he saw them through the sliding door.

He smiles to himself once he spots the wheelchair a few feet away from the outdoor pool. Jungkook’s head is tilted back, and the closer Taehyung gets, the easier it is to see that he has his eyes closed, and he seems to be enjoying himself right there.

“What are you doing here?” Taehyung asks once by his side, and Jungkook doesn’t even budge; he must’ve heard him getting closer. “Running away now?”

“I used to exercise here every morning…” the athlete shares, opening his eyes to take another look around them; the grass, the trees, the flowers. “I realized that I haven’t felt the sun since the accident. I’ve been stuck inside for— I don’t even know how long.”

Taehyung nods, slowly. “Hm, okay.” he says.

Jungkook opens his mouth to ask what he means by that, but decides not to. He watches as his doctor walks away from him, and he wonders whether he’s given up on having a session today. That wouldn’t be so bad, he doesn’t want to go back inside now that he’s felt the sun on his skin.

The pool looks tempting, and he hates how he hasn’t felt the water on his body in so long. He used to jump into the pool after finishing his exercises, and the cold water was always a delicious contrast to how warm he’d be once done working out.

He can’t swim anymore.

Jungkook lets out a sigh, closing his eyes again.

Almost five minutes go by, and he’s growing sure that his doctor just left, when he hears steps getting closer again. He opens his eyes to find Taehyung stretching out a mat on the grass, and covering it with a blanket. “Why are you doing that?” he asks, puzzled.

“So that you can be under the sun.” Taehyung shrugs.

“You hate me.” Jungkook states the obvious.

“My professionalism will never be affected by my personal beliefs. Besides, I’m in a good mood today, so I’m feeling extra generous.” he explains. “Now, come here.” the doctor pats the mat, kneeling by it.

Jungkook weakly tugs on his lip ring, a nervous habit that Taehyung has long noticed, eyeing the mat. “I don't know how to get on the floor." he admits.

“Just throw yourself down.” Jungkook looks up at him. “I’m joking. C’mon, I’ll help you. Stretch out your legs completely with your hands— Yes, like that, nice. Now, lift yourself up with your arms, you should be strong enough to do that, hm?” he teases, aware that nothing motivates Jungkook more than having his ego bruised.

“Of course, I am.” he mumbles. “I can do it.”

“Good. Now, slowly and carefully lower yourself to the floor, while holding your weight on your arms. Most patients can’t do these things alone, but your arms are strong enough. I don’t have to carry you this time.”

“What if the chair rolls back?” Jungkook asks, hesitant.

“It’s locked, it won’t.”

“But—”

“Trust me. If it did, which it won’t, I’d be here to help you before you even hit the floor. Go ahead.” Taehyung encourages as he kneels by the chair, watching him slowly but surely lower himself to the floor. “That was good, you did it nicely.” he praises.

“Stop that.” Jungkook looks away, fixing his position on the thin yoga mattress on the floor. Taehyung chuckles, starting to prepare everything for the session as the athlete simply sits there. He can’t help but to acknowledge how nice it is of him to do this.

Taehyung has no obligation to do anything other than the job that he’s paid for, and that doesn’t include moving things around just because Jungkook wants to bask in the sun for the first time in months. Especially when Taehyung doesn’t even like him.

“Thanks.” he whispers, eyes everywhere but on him.

“Huh?” Taehyung looks at him, putting on his gloves.

“Nothing.” Jungkook quickly says; he already regrets even opening his mouth, he shouldn’t have said anything at all, and there’s no way that he’ll repeat it.

But Taehyung isn’t dumb. “You said thanks.”

“I literally didn’t.” he lies.

The doctor rolls his eyes. “You did. I heard it.”

“Ok, so what?”

Taehyung fakes a gasp. “You’re learning basic freaking manners? I’m impressed, to say the least. Well done, well done.”

“Shut Up—?” Jungkook fixes him with a glare. “I’ve always had manners, my parents raised me right.”

“Then why did you lose them?” Taehyung asks, so fast that Jungkook doesn’t catch up, and opens his mouth to answer. However, he’s able to stop himself in time, and he closes it back up, lips pressed together. “So?”

“I don’t have to get into that.”

“So, there’s an answer.” the doctor accuses as he begins opening the strings of Jungkook’s sweatpants.

Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe.” he cooperates to let the other remove his sweats, lifting himself up using his arms. “I still don’t have to talk about it.”

Taehyung takes a moment to pump the ointment onto the pale skin of Jungkook’s thighs, letting the silence drag out for a little. “You should start seeing a therapist. You have so much bottled inside, it’d feel reallygood to let it all out. It’ll choke you someday.”

“I’ve been fine so far.” the athlete shuts the idea down.

The elder sighs. “If you say so.”

The first ten minutes of the session go by in silence.

Taehyung focuses on what he knows best, his job, and the athlete lies there with his eyes closed, enjoying the sun on his arms, his face. He kind of wishes that he could just remove his shirt — realistically, he can.

“Can l ask you a question?” Taehyung breaks the silence eventually, his hands still working on skillfully kneading Jungkook’s legs. “Don’t insult me if you don’t want to answer. Just say so, and I’ll let you be.”

“I’ll try.” Jungkook says, eyes still closed.

There’s a pause. “Was that a joke?”

“Just go on.” he insists.

“How are you dealing with the news that you received at the hospital? They weren’t necessarily positive… How are you dealing with that, Jeon?”

“If I wanted to open up about shit, I’d accept the idea of having a therapist, don’t you think?” is the answer that he receives, and he’d be lying if he said that it surprises him. He already knew that Jungkook wouldn’t just give him anything that could be, in any way, emotional.

“Then maybe you should say yes, don’t you think?”

Jungkook sighs, his peaceful aura disrupted. “Can you imagine if word got out that a fucking pro-fighter is seeing a therapist? Besides, I don’t need any—”

“Ok, you have to stop with that ugly toxic-man mentality. Needing to talk to someone isn’t a sign of being weak. On the contrary, even. It takes a lot of strength to speak about what troubles you, and it’d probably be the most courageous thing that you’d ever do in your life. I don’t care about how many bones you’ve broken, or how many people you’ve knocked out, showing vulnerability takes more strength than doing any of that. Believe me.” Taehyung speaks in a low tone, slow and deliberate, as he carefully continues the massage. It grants him a pregnant pause

Jungkook, once again, twirls with his lip ring, eyes focused on the moving cloud above them. “I had a therapist once.” he reveals in a rather shy voice.

Taehyung tilts his head. “Oh. You did?”

“Yeah.”

“May I ask why?” he tries, unwilling to push too much.

The athlete shrugs. “I was a difficult child with way too much energy. I wouldn’t stop for a full minute. I guess that my parents thought that it meant some form of mental issue… Turns out, it was hyperactivity…”

“Do you have ADHD?” Taehyung asks, a little surprised. The younger man simply nods. “Are you on medication?”

“No. I learned how to manage it as a kid, with children’s therapists and what not, and then when I started boxing, it was a good way of calming my brain, because I always had too much going on. But anyway, yes, I had a therapist when I was a kid.”

“Did you enjoy going?”

“No.” Jungkook answers without missing a beat.

Taehyung stares. “So, you’ve always had problems opening up?” he inquires, unsure of how much longer he’ll be able to obtain actual answers before Jungkook tells him to shut up and stops answering them

“Yes. I don’t like to talk about myself like that.”

“But it’s good for you. It’s good to talk. It’s good and healthy to share.” Taehyung argues, fixing his position so that he’s a little more comfortable. “Do you see what we’re doing right now? You’re giving me little information about yourself, but it’s more than you ever would two months ago. Isn’t it nice to talk?”

Jungkook takes a moment. “I liked yesterday more.”

“Huh?”

“We didn’t speak.” he explains.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or to cry. Are you telling me that I’m a better company with my mouth closed?” Taehyung asks, trying to fully comprehend what he’s just been told. “Is that it?”

“Well, yes.”

“Hm, so I’m a good company?” Jungkook looks at him, his eyes showing just how unimpressed he is. “You can give a compliment for once in your life, you know? Just say that I’m an amazing company. It won’t kill you.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, rolling his head back to face ahead. “I’m not giving you what you want.” is what he says, and there’s a small hint of teasing in his voice.

Taehyung's surprised to hear him almost joking. Almost. Not quite there.

“It was still worth the shot…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  Today was nicer. I enjoyed the sun… I feel better today
|  I think that the sun gave me energy… I don’t know, I feel good…?
|  He really didn’t have to do all of that for me, especially when I know that he can’t stand me for some reason. I have to admit that it was really kind of him. Maybe he’s not so bad sometimes…

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  He said “see you tomorrow” when I said bye???? He never answers. Flabbergasted.
|  Chicken nuggets really changed a man.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook’s hand halts where it was about to take another small tomato to his mouth when his screen freezes, a sudden call stopping the movie. His manager’s picture alongside the contact name appears right in the middle, and he thinks twice before pressing the green circle.

He’s had the first good day in months, and he doesn’t want that to be ruined.

Still, with some hesitation, he accepts the call. Hoseok’s face expands, filling up a good portion of the screen. Jungkook can see that the man is sitting somewhere in his living room, as he recognizes a painting on the wall in the background.

“Hey, Jungkook.” he greets.

“Hey.” Jungkook parrots.

“How have you been? I wanted to call yesterday to know what the doctors told you, but I didn’t find the time… How did it go?” his manager asks, curious.

“They told me to fix my diet, and that there hasn’t been any progress in the state of my legs. They’re not getting worse, but they’re not getting any better, either.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.” Jungkook looks away, just about hating that answer. If people can’t handle the awful truth that he’s living, then why do they ask? His mother had the same reaction, and his nurse couldn’t even form words.

Do they not realize that it makes him feel worse? The only person to actually say anything, either to help or to simply comfort him, was Taehyung. Only him.

“Is physiotherapy not working, then…?”

“It is, otherwise my legs would be decaying.” it’s weird to talk about it, and he doesn’t like it one bit. He doesn’t like how real things are, nor does he like having to say, aloud, just how bad his situation is.

“I see…” Hoseok sighs. “You have to keep fighting, and prove all odds wrong. You’re a fighter, and you’re strong, and I’ve never seen you get pushed to the ground and stay there. You always get up. You’ll get up this time around, too. I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll… I’ll get up.” Jungkook gulps. “I have to.”

His manager smiles. “I actually… have something else to ask you, if you don’t mind.” Jungkook simply gestures for him to go on. “Your team keeps asking me questions that I don’t know how to answer.... Especially your coach. They want to know what happened, and why you haven’t shown up yet. They— They still don’t know or understand why you stepped down from an important championship that you were about to win, and they keep reaching out to me about it.”

“I don’t want to tell them. Not yet, at least. Maybe when I start seeing progress, I will think about it. They’re my team, but I won’t tell them the truth. No way.” Jungkook quickly shuts the idea down. “I don’t even know whether I’ll ever need them again or not… Things aren’t looking promising. I’ll— I’ll never need my coach again.”

“Don’t say that. You will need them again, because you’re going to get better, and you’re going to get your ass back in the ring.” Hoseok quickly argues. “I don’t want to hear such nonsense. Don’t be negative.”

“Yeah, right…”

“I got it, though. I won’t tell them anything.”

“Good.” Jungkook looks down. “I told Jimin and Yug…”

“Oh.” Hoseok’s eyes widen comically. “You did?”

“Yes. It took a lot from me to gain the courage, and I really didn’t— I didn’t like how they started crying… but I told them, and now they know. I feel like it removed a weight from my back, which is good… I guess.”

“That’s so good, Jungkook. I’m happy that you’ve decided to tell them, I didn’t like how you were keeping this to yourself. It’s too much for you to deal with alone.” Hoseok smiles. “Isn’t this so much better?”

“No.”

His manager laughs. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you be for now, yeah? Thanks for picking up, and I’ll check on you tomorrow. Sleep well, Jungkook.” he waves.

“Hm, you too.” he wishes, finger already dragging the mouse to the red circle, shortly ending the call. Only then does he let out a heavy breath that he didn’t know that he was holding. He hates this sort of conversation.

The movie doesn’t seem appealing anymore, either, so he closes his laptop and puts it aside, pushing the tomatoes away, too. He hates talking about his condition with people, and hates how they react. They never know what to say. It’s infuriating.

Jungkook wishes that they didn’t say anything at all.

With another sigh, he turns off the light on his bedside table and drags himself lower on the bed, closing his eyes to try and get some sleep. His mood isn’t as good as it was before the call, and he regrets picking up. He was kind of… happy today.

Talking about his reality positively ruined it. He hates it. He hates the nights.

They’re so long.

Chapter Text

It’s seven in the morning when Taehyung’s alarm interrupts his sleep, but the sound feels as though it punches him right on the side of his head. It’s too loud, way too noisy, and his head is pounding. He quickly looks for the button to shut it off.

His head falls right back down against the pillow, feeling as though his brain is pulsing. He hasn’t woken up hungover in a long time — years, he’d say.

Ever since Jiwoon was born, he’s had too many responsibilities to even think about going out until he couldn’t remember a single thing. He’s only twenty-five, though, and Jiwoon is grown enough now. Besides, Miyun can look after him. Taehyung can have fun every now and then, he won’t deprive himself of it anymore.

With a groan, he attempts to sit up, only to be interrupted by the realization that he’s not in his room. The sheets are a different color, there’s a different cologne in the air, mixed with his own, and the mattress isn’t as comfortable as the one that he owns.

“Shit…” he whispers to himself, sudden flashes of the previous night clouding his mind. The goal was, undoubtedly, to leave either after the deed was done, or in the middle of the night, when no one can ask where he’s going or why he’s not staying.

Taehyung gets up from the bed, looking around the room for his clothes, given that he’s still completely naked, and puts them on as quickly as possible. He has to go home to shower, put on a pair of scrubs and leave for the hospital, all in one hour and a half.

His hand is extra careful when opening the bedroom door, trying to make as little noise as he can, and proceeds to tip-toe his way out just in case the other person — he’s guessing that it’s a male solely on the way that the house is decorated — is in the bathroom.

“Hey.” shit. Taehyung turns to the source of the voice, finding a man standing by a door holding a spatula. He tries not to look like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m making breakfast… Come on in.” he gestures.

Before Taehyung can say anything, the other retreats back into what he now assumes is the kitchen, and he glances over at the front door. He could just leave without saying anything, it’s the easiest choice to make, and it would spare him from having to have any sort of conversation with the stranger.

But that’s not who he is. He can’t just do that.

Taehyung sighs, almost dragging himself to the kitchen. It smells good. “Hey, listen, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression by staying. I’m not looking for anything other than what happened last night, so I don’t want to lead anyone on by accident.”

“I know, you made that very clear yesterday, don’t worry.” the other says, turning to face him with two mugs of coffee that he places on the table. “I’m surprised that you don’t remember but, really, we were both wasted.” he adds. “I knew that you’d want to leave, but I also thought that I could just make some breakfast. No weird feelings, no strings, nothing is happening here, worry not. Also, it’s a weekday, so you can shower before leaving, if you’d like.”

Taehyung eyes the coffee and the toasted bread on the table, the slices of bacon that look way too appetizing when dealing with a hangover, and he nods.

If he showers here, then he can just put on one of the scrubs that he has at the hospital, he wouldn’t have to go all the way to his house. He’ll just need an Uber to go pick up his car… wherever it might be. Probably still parked in the club’s parking lot.

“Alright.” he says, at last, sitting down. “I could use some coffee… Do you happen to have any headache medicine, or something? My head is pounding.”

“I do have it, I’ll get us some after we eat.”

“Okay, thanks.” Taehyung takes a first sip from his mug, and the coffee warms his body all the way down.

“So… Where do you work?” the other man asks. He looks up at him, hesitating, and the stranger rolls his eyes. “I’m just asking to fill in the silence, I’m not trying to get to know you. Just kind of. I won’t even tell you my name, that I’m sure you don’t remember.” Taehyung looks away, giving it a thought. He really doesn’t remember.

“Well, I work at ASAN… the hospital.” he explains as his eyes try to close again. “I’m a physiotherapist.”

“Oh, that’s so cool… And that also explains why you were so damn good with your hands.” Taehyung has to hold back a sigh. He’s heard that joke so many times.

“Yeah, I know where to touch, I guess.” he shrugs, taking a bite from the crunchy bacon. “You?”

“I work at a bakery… family business.”

“That’s cool.” Taehyung comments with a little smile.

“I’ve heard about so many celebrities going to that hospital… Have you ever met any?” the stranger asks, curious. It’s true, he knows. It’s the biggest and best hospital in the city, so all the celebrities end up there.

“They’re too private with that. Only the people working with them can see them when they’re there. The physiotherapy team rarely gets involved with celebrities.” he explains. “I’ve only met one, but—”

“Whom?”

“I can’t say that.” he drinks the remains of coffee in his mug. “Can I have that pill now? I’ll take a quick shower and leave… I can’t be late for work.”

“Sure… Give me a minute, I’ll go get it.” Taehyung offers a little smile, watching as he gets up and leaves the kitchen. He seems like a decent person and, luckily, didn’t ask more than he should, nor did he try to go against Taehyung’s wishes to leave. At least that. He has to get better at just leaving during the night.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook hears three knocks on his bedroom door as he picks what to wear for the day — yet another pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. “Come in.” he says, loud enough for it to be heard outside of his walk-in closet.

There are a few steps following the door opening, but they don’t get near him; his workers know not to enter his closet or his bathroom. They shouldn’t even be allowed in his room, as it is. He never allowed anyone to enter his room before the accident.

He places the clothes on his lap, slowly making his way back to his room. He’s in nothing but underwear and socks, having just finished a painfully long bath, and his nurse must be there to help him get dressed. She used to help him get inside the bathtub, and was even supposed to help him wash himself, but he never allowed her to do so. He refused to get that low.

He doesn’t need help to get in the tub anymore and, even if baths take too long when half of his body has turned into dead weight, he doesn’t need anyone. Bathing does feel like a chore, nonetheless, and he almost has to force himself to take one every morning, no matter how relaxing those baths are to him.

“Good morning.” she greets with a smile.

“Hi.” Jungkook says back, his face impassive.

“I can help—”

“No need.” he interrupts. “Actually, I’ll have a word with my parents so that they pass the message to your superiors… You don’t have to stay here anymore.”

“I— S-Sorry?” her smile falls. “Did I do something wrong? Is this because of my, uhm, failed attempt w-with Mr. Kim? I know that it was stupid, and I shouldn’t have crossed such a line, but I can assure you that it has never affected the way that—”

“Stop.” Jungkook raises his hand just a little, signaling her to stop talking, and she does. “It has nothing to do with that, and I don’t even care that it happened. I just feel confident saying that I can do things by myself now. You don’t have to spend the whole day here, and much less sleep here. You were a great help at the beginning, but you can move on to help someone else now. I don’t need that anymore.” he explains.

“Oh.” Jungkook can see the woman’s shoulders relaxing. “If that’s the case, then I’ll happily be fired, because it’s a great sign.” her smile is back. “I’m glad to see the evolution, and the way that you’re able to do pretty much everything by yourself. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah.” he nods, tugging at the ring on his bottom lip.

She bows. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, call me if you need anything.” Jungkook hums, placing his clothes on the bed as his nurse walks away, but she stops by the door. “Mr. Jeon?” she calls. “Are you certain that this isn’t about what happened with Mr. Kim?”

“Why would I care about that?”

“I don’t know. We both work for you, you could be uncomfortable with that. Or maybe he complained about it— I don’t know. If the reason really is the one that you gave me, then I’m happy to hear it, but if it’s because of my flirting attempt, then—”

“It’s not. I can assure you of that.” Jungkook interrupts, grabbing his hoodie to put it on. “While I can’t comprehend why you embarrassed yourself like that for someone like him, it’s none of my business, nor do I care about it in the slightest. He also didn’t complain.”

“I didn’t embarrass myself.” he gives her a look. “Ok, maybe I did. But, uhm, I’ll stop bothering you about this if you really don’t care. I’ll go check on your breakfast so that you can eat before Mr. Kim arrives.”

“Alright.” the woman nods again, before leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind herself. Jungkook sighs, putting his hoodie on. The sweatpants are always a challenge whenever he’s on the chair instead of a flat surface, such as his bed, but he’s getting better at it. It still takes him two good minutes.

Changing to his bed is one of the easiest things for him now, but he still does it cautiously. He doesn’t want to fall. There’s nothing more humiliating than falling with a condition like his own. He’s never fallen in front of anyone, which he’s thankful for.

Well, he did once in front of Taehyung, but he’d rather forget it. The way that he had to get picked up was far too embarrassing, too shameful. Strangely, the doctor never once mentioned it, never commented on it.

Taehyung has seen him in so many lows that Jungkook doesn’t even know how he’s still able to look him in the eye without laughing. That’s the kind of reaction that Jungkook would expect from anyone.

He sits on the bed with his laptop on his legs, ready to find something to watch until Taehyung arrives, otherwise he’ll bore to death. Movies and shows have been the best source of entertainment ever since he got stuck to his stupid chair.

He knows that he’ll run out of interesting things to watch eventually but, for now, it’s still a good company.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook continues picking on his nails, his nurse yet again checking her wrist watch. “He should be here any minute now…” she informs, and he hums. They’ve been in the gym for three minutes already, and if there’s one thing that Jungkook hates is tardiness. It doesn’t take that much effort to be on time.

Another minute goes by before they hear hurried steps approaching the gym’s door, and it is soon pushed open, revealing a, surprisingly, composed Taehyung. “Hi.” he greets, bowing to them. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Mr. Kim. I’ll head out now…” the nurse bows back, stepping away from Jungkook’s chair and making her way out of the room while the athlete quietly waits for the right time to speak.

He keeps his eyes on Taehyung, his face void of any emotion, but one eyebrow raised. When the door closes, he clears his throat. “You’re late.” he points out.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Taehyung bows once again, hurriedly making his way to the massage table so that he can put his bags down. His headache is slowly getting better, but it’s still nowhere near ignorable.

“Why are you late?” Jungkook asks.

“Why are you interested?” Taehyung turns it around.

“Because I’m your boss.”

The doctor turns around with a brow raised, thinking it through for a moment. “I’m too hungover to fight that statement.” he gives in, putting on his gloves as Jungkook slowly drags his chair closer to the massage table. “But I wouldn’t say that you are.”

“You went out last night.” Jungkook decides to ignore the last comment, refraining from listing all of the valid reasons why he believes that he is Taehyung’s boss.

“Congratulations, Sherlock, did you realize that all by yourself?” Taehyung asks, sarcastic, paired with a grin.

Jungkook bites down on his teeth, swallowing a quick and easy insult. “I’ve been trying really hard to be nice as of lately, so don’t rub me the wrong way.” he warns.

Taehyung halts, looking down at him. “Ok, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m really fucking hungover, and I have no patience today, but that’s not your fault. I apologize.”

The athlete fiddles with his lip ring for a second. “It’s fine.” he decides not to retaliate. There’s no use, and the elder apologized — and it sounded sincere. “Why’d you go out on a work day?” he still asks.

“Good fucking question, actually.” Taehyung half-mumbles as he gestures to the table for Jungkook to get himself on it. “I just know that I do regret it.”

“Well…” Jungkook stops to get himself on the table properly, and only then does he look at the other. “At least you were only five minutes late.”

Taehyung blinks. Jungkook being nice is weird and he can see that the younger man really is trying his best, so he doesn’t comment on it lest it ruin everything. He doesn’t want to deal with the old Jungkook again.

Jungkook removes his sweatpants all by himself, and even folds them before handing the piece of clothing over for Taehyung to put away. He rests back down, eyes on the ceiling as the doctor starts the massage on his lower limbs.

Needless to say, he doesn’t feel it.

“How was yesterday?” Taehyung asks after a while, and Jungkook wonders whether he’s genuinely curious or just trying to keep himself awake. “You were in a good mood when I left. How was your day?”

“I don't know.” Jungkook half-whispers.

“You don’t know?” the silence that he’s met with is a little too heavy, and it only takes one look at Jungkook to know that he’s thinking about something. “You can talk about it, I promise to keep it a secret.” he adds.

“I think—” Jungkook stops, hesitating.

“Yeah…?” Taehyung encourages. “Go on.”

“I think that yesterday was the first positive day that I’ve had in a while…” his voice is quiet, and he makes sure to look everywhere but Taehyung. “I felt alright.”

“Are you able to pinpoint the reason behind that? If so, then it’s a way for you to know how to deal with days that aren’t as good.” Taehyung suggests.

“I can’t pinpoint anything, I just felt… nice.”

“Hm… I can pinpoint a thing or two, actually. We had our session outside, you were in the sun, and just breathing fresh air. I feel like you’re in a better mood whenever you’re out of closed spaces. You were in a decent mood when we left the hospital, even after getting shit news… and that was either because chicken nuggets are miraculous, or because you were outside breathing good air.” he shrugs.

“Uhm… Maybe you’re right.” Jungkook mumbles.

“Is today being a decent day for you?”

“I think so. I don’t know.”

“You’re hard to talk to.” Taehyung says before he can hold back, and Jungkook presses his lips in a thin, disapproving, line. “I don’t mean that in an insulting way, you’re way easier to talk to nowadays. I just think that you’d feel better if you opened up more.”

“I don’t have anything to open up about.”

That makes Taehyung cackle. “Dude, I feel like you have years’ worth of tears and frustration and what-not all bottled up inside of you. You need a good cry, and someone to listen to your concerns and frustrations.”

“I don’t cry.”

“You don’t cry in front of people, is what you should say.” Taehyung corrects. “Until you do.” he adds.

Jungkook scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“One day you’re going to let someone see that vulnerable side of you, and you’re going to realize how nice it feels to let all of that out with someone. I was like you when I was younger, until I had someone to listen to me and handle a crying mess.”

“I thought that you were single?”

“It doesn’t have to be a partner, Jungkook. In my case, I mean my best friend. He’s a psychiatrist, so he’s a good ear.” Taehyung shrugs. “I had a lot bottled up, too.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Such as?”

Taehyung smiles. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He faces the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t cry.”

“Mhm. Let’s see how long it lasts.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jimin sings along to the song on the radio, frowning when the car is turned off. “I was enjoying that.” he complains, gesturing to the radio. “You’re a menace.”

“Were we supposed to sit here until the song was over?” Yugyeom asks, already opening his door. “Get your ass out of the car, I want to see how he’s doing.”

“Fine.” Jimin pouts, grabbing his bag and the gift that they brought for their friend, and leaves the car. “l hope that he’s awake already… It’s pretty early.”

“He used to wake up really early for his morning exercises, he probably hasn't lost that part of his routine… Even I, who don’t wake up as early as he used to, find it almost impossible to stay in bed past nine now. My body can’t rest.” Yugyeom explains.

“I see… Well, let’s hope for the best.” Jimin shrugs. They walk side by side to the door, and Jimin puts in the code to open it. They’re both positively startled by a woman standing before them. “Oh. Hello?”

“Hi, there. I saw you through the security cameras… I thought that I should let you know that Mr. Jeon is in the gym with Mr. Kim.” she explains, gesturing to one of the hallways. “Feel free to go in, though.”

“I’m sorry, who’s Mr. Kim?” Yugyeom asks.

“And who are you?” Jimin adds.

“I’m Mr. Jeon’s at home nurse. Not for long, though, he no longer needs my help throughout the day… Regarding Mr. Kim, meet them in the gym and you’ll understand. I don’t want to be the one sharing anything that Mr. Jeon may not want me to.”

“Understandable. Okay, well, we’ll go check on him, then. Thank you for letting us know.” the three of them bow almost at the same time, and Jimin links his arm with his friend’s to lead him to the gym. “Who the fuck is that Mr. Kim?” he whisper-yells.

“Maybe a new coach…? I don’t know, to keep him fit or something.” Yugyeom theorizes. “A personal trainer.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Jimin nods in agreement.

Yugyeom is the one to open the gym’s door for them to walk in, and they both halt when they see their friend lying on a massage table with a man folding and unfolding his leg. “Hey.” he calls after them.

“Hell—”

“What are you guys doing here?” Jungkook asks, eyeing them with curiosity, and positively interrupting the doctor’s attempt at greeting them. Taehyung recognizes both of them, but they had never seen him.

“We wanted to pay you a little surprise visit… We didn’t know that you’d be mid-session. Are we interrupting?” Jungkook opens his mouth to answer, tell them that no, they’re not interrupting as long as they don’t make comments about what’s going on, but Taehyung assumes that he’s going to say yes, so he’s faster to speak.

“No, you’re not interrupting. You can watch.” he’s immediately met with a glare.

“Oh, thank you. I’m Yugyeom, this is Jimin.”

“I know you guys.” they bow with polite smiles, and Jungkook doesn’t understand why Taehyung is being nice to Yugyeom when the latter has the same career as he has. He thought that Taehyung hated him because of his profession. “I’m Taehyung.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Taehyung.” Jimin speaks, his eyes taking a little too long examining the doctor’s face, and he only steps forward when Yugyeom nudges him and gestures to the bag in his hand. “Oh, I have something for you, Kook.” he walks closer.

Taehyung refrains from commenting on the nickname.

“What is it?” Jungkook inquiries. “I don’t like—”

“You don’t like gifts, yes, yes, shut up.” Jimin interrupts, and the doctor has to hold back a snort to simply focus on his job. “Just take it, Kook, I know that you’ll like it.”

Jungkook frowns, opening the bag. He then carefully grabs the contents, and it almost makes him smile for the first time since the accident. It’s still not enough, but it’s a nice feeling. It’s an Iron Man stuffed toy.

It makes Taehyung chuckle. “Why are you laughing?” Yugyeom asks as he drags two chairs for them to sit down close to the table

“I just can’t see this guy owning a plushie.” he admits with a shrug, briefly looking up at them — they can see how amusing he finds it, and Jimin wants to play along.

“He has a whole collection of Marvel figures.” the model reveals. “He loves Iron Man quite a lot.”

“Is this why you don’t let people see your room or your office?” Taehyung asks, looking at the youngest. “You don’t want them to see your Iron Man onesies?” that makes both Jimin and Yugyeom laugh, the two not even trying to hide how funny it is to them to see someone other than them being brave enough to playfully mock Jungkook.

The aforementioned can only look at them with his lips pressed together.

“I can tell you that he does own a pair of Iron Man sleeping shorts because I gave them to him.” Jimin shares with another laugh. “It’s so cute.”

“What the fuck—”

“Didn’t you give him a pair of socks?” Yugyeom adds.

“Oh, I did!”

Jungkook gapes. “Shut the f—”

“The mighty boxer sleeps in Iron Man pajamas… How do people find you scary again?” Taehyung asks, directed at him this time, and Jungkook looks at him with something close to betrayal in his eyes makes him smile even harder, and Jungkook tsks.

“It took you exactly a minute to team up, amazing.”

“But do you like the gift?” Yugyeom asks.

Jungkook can feel the three pairs of eyes on him, and he knows that no answer is the right answer at this point, so he sighs. “Yes, I do like it.” he mumbles.

Taehyung lets out a mocking 'aw' that makes his friends laugh again, and Jungkook decides that he will no longer indulge in such conversation. That, however, is even more entertaining for them. “You can all fuck off, I’m not even listening anymore.”

“Mhm, sure.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

It’s only about an hour later that Jimin plops himself on the couch, right next to his best friend, while Yugyeom looks for something on the television for them to watch.

“Your therapist…” Jimin starts. “Who is he?”

“Huh?” Jungkook gives him a look. “What are you on about now? Don’t tell me that you were ogling him.”

“I was.” he nods, placing a pillow on his lap. “Is he single? Is he into men? Is he looking for anything…?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, and I don’t know. We don’t necessarily get along, he hates me, and I can’t stand him sometimes.” Jungkook explains, looking away. “My nurse asked for his number the other day, too. What’s so special about him? Don’t even.”

“Have you looked at him?”

“I’m… not into men, remember?” Jungkook says.

“That’s true.” Jimin nods. “Well, he’s really hot. Like, super-hot. He probably is so good with his hands—”

“Can you not?” Jungkook interrupts, bothered. “I have to see him every day. I’d rather not have to listen to this nonsense.” Jimin giggles, whereas Yugyeom finds better not to even say anything. He simply listens.

“Good observation.” Jimin acknowledges. “What do you mean you don’t get along well, though? What’s wrong between you two? Why aren’t you friends?”

“He already didn’t like me when he started working for me. I didn’t like his approach, and I don’t like his lack of respect or fear, or whatever you want to call it.”

“I thought that it was funny. Finally, someone who doesn’t care about who you are. He’s funny.” Yugyeom is the one to say, finally settling for a channel. “And I don’t think that it bothers you, otherwise you would’ve said something to stop us. Him.” he adds.

“It does bother me.” he quickly says. “I just didn’t want to fight, is all.” his friends simply hum, not really believing his words. “What? What are you thinking?”

“I just think that it’s nice for you to make friends.”

“He’s not my friend.” he says.

“He could be.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I don’t want him to.”

“B—”

“I’m not letting anyone in, is it that hard to understand?”

His friends share a look, before Jimin sighs and lays down until he’s resting on Jungkook’s side. “We just think that it’s good that you’re not alone through this, since you can’t confide in us that much… But since you don’t want to talk about it, then just cuddle me while we watch a movie or something.” he encourages.

“Fine.” Jungkook settles. He doesn’t really like cuddling, so he doesn’t hug back, but he allows Jimin to tuck himself onto his side. It’s not that bad.

He still doesn’t like it.

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  Everyone around me likes him so much and gets along with him so well and easily while I can’t even have a normal conversation without being insulted
|  Not that I want to? But it makes me mad cause why. Literally wtf did I do if he already hated me when he got hired. Whatever, I don’t care

Chapter Text

Jungkook groans when his phone ringing wakes him up, and reaches for it with only one eye open. It’s Jimin, so he considers just rejecting the call and going back to sleep, but something in him makes him swipe the green circle instead. “What?”

“Were you sleep? I’m sorry…! I just wanted you to get me Mr. Kim’s number.” his friend explains, speaking quickly so that he can go back to sleep as soon as possible.

“Huh—?” Jungkook’s mind is a little slow to keep up. “No.”

“Why not?” Jimin whines.

“Because no.”

“Give me a valid reason.” the other challenges.

Jungkook is too sleepy for this. “It’s not ethically correct, he works for me.”

“So…?! He doesn’t work for me.” Jimin still argues, and Jungkook’s face falls with an angry scowl. There’s no possible way to justify why he doesn’t want to share his physiotherapist’s number, but he simply does not want to.

He doesn’t even have Taehyung’s number.

“It’s not happening.” Jungkook says.

“You’re so annoying.” Jimin whines again. “Please…!”

“No, dude. It’s my therapist, back off.” he lies back down on the pillow, holding the phone against his other ear. “Just let me go back to sleep, I’m not giving you his number.”

“God, you’re heartless!” his best friend complains and Jungkook can tell that he’s frowning on the other side. “Fine, then, don’t give it to me, I’ll ask for it myself.”

“Good luck with that. Now, if you’re done, I’ll go finish my sleep.” Jungkook informs as his eyes flutter closed once again. Only half of his brain is functioning, either way.

“Fine!” Jimin tsks. “Sleep well… But I’ll succeed at this mission.”

“Surely.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung sighs to himself, rolling off his gloves before throwing them in the nearest trash can. He’s just finished with a patient, and he’s already waiting for the next one. There’s only one more before he has to face, yet again, the most challenging patient that he’s ever had — so far, at least.

He drags a chair to sit by a small table, already getting his phone out to scroll aimlessly through social media while he waits; he’s already prepared everything.

There’s a knock on the door, and it’s pushed open before he even gets the chance to say anything. “Hey.”

Taehyung puts his phone away, surprised to see his boss, rather than the patient that he was supposed to see next. “Hey, Seo.” he greets, puzzled. “What’s up?”

“I was going to call, but I was just now walking past, so I figured that it was both easier and faster to just come here to tell you this…” Seojoon prefaces, walking in but standing by the door. “Your next patient called in to let us know that he wouldn’t be able to make it due to a family emergency. You have the next spot available, as it was too late to call someone else in.” he informs.

“Oh.” Taehyung nods. “Alright, thanks.”

“No problem.” his boss smiles with a bow that is mirrored by the other, even if lazily in his sitting position. “Take the time to rest, or to do whatever that you wish. I’ll get going, I have a patient of my own.”

“Yeah, sure.” he waves from where he’s sitting.

Seojoon only gives him a last nod afore leaving the room, closing the door on his way out. Taehyung sags more on the chair now, aware that he has some free time for himself, which he obviously must share on his favorite social media platform: Twitter.

He types a quick post about having nothing to do for over an hour, and closes the application as soon as he hits send, ready to browse through online shops and spend money that could definitely be used for something better, more important.

Those plans are, however, disrupted when the phone starts vibrating in his hand, his best friend’s picture filling up the screen now. He picks up right away.

“Hey, Yoongs.” he greets.

“Hey, man. I saw your post.” Yoongi says.

“It’s been, like, ten seconds. You’re a stalker.”

“I beg to differ. I’m waiting for my next patient, I was just going through the notes that I have about him, when I got your notification. I thought that I could call, keep you company until I have to go.” he explains.

“And I appreciate that.” Taehyung smiles, folding his leg on the chair. “Talking about sessions, though, have to schedule something again… My head has been kind of a mess lately. Do you have any empty slots?”

“Man, you know that you can just come to my place with coffee and a donut or two, you don’t have to pay for me to listen to you. Come over sometime this week. I’m free.” his friend offers, as usual.

“I’ll do that…” he nods to himself.

“Good, good.” Yoongi clears his throat. “Anyhow, what are you going to do to pass the time? Sit there?”

“That was my plan, yes. I’ll sit here, reading emails and watching TikTok’s until I have to go to Jeon’s house for his session. That seems like a good plan.”

“Or just go to his place earlier.” the other suggests. “It’ll be lunch time by the time that you leave his house, so you’ll have a much longer lunch break if you go earlier.”

“Honestly, that’d be great. You have good ideas sometimes, I like it when you think.” Taehyung teases.

“Hm, it doesn’t happen often.”

“I know that much.” Taehyung agrees. “You’re right, though. I can just go now, and have this much freedom during my lunch break… You’re a genius.” he says as he gets up from his chair, putting it back in its place.

“Can you just show up at his place…?”

“There’s a high probability of him telling me to fuck off and wait until our session is meant to happen, but I’m willing to risk it. The worst-case scenario is that I’ll sit in the kitchen, having a great sandwich… and that’s not a bad thing to imagine. I’ll win, either way, I mean.”

“Then you should get going.”

“Will do. I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Mhm. Take care, Tae.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  I’m so fucking hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet…I’m grabbing McDonald’s on the way

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|    Just had a spinach and a blueberry smoothie for breakfast :]
|  Eating healthily is the only thing that I was able to keep from my old lifestyle… Even a stupid smoothie reminds me of what I don’t have anymore.
|  My mood was good when I woke up. Sigh

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook rolls over in bed for the umpteenth time, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to fall asleep and relax his racing thoughts for a little while, given that there’s still an hour or so before his therapy session.

Or so he thought.

There’s a knock on his door five minutes into his third sleeping attempt, and he lifts up his head. “Hello?” he hears coming from the other side, that same deep voice that he’s had to listen to for months now.

“Why are you here?” he asks, not quite expecting the door to open right away, but there stands Taehyung, already turning the lights on, much to his dismay. “It’s way too early for you to be here, and the lights are—”

“I got something for you, though.” Taehyung interrupts.

Jungkook takes a moment. “What?” he asks, curious.

“Oh? I thought that you didn’t like gifts.” the doctor accuses right away, recalling what he said just days prior when receiving a present from his best friends.

“I’m… merely curious.” Jungkook mumbles.

“Right.” Taehyung nods, lifting the bag of McDonald’s food. He did consider the suggestion that Yoongi made, to just start the session once he got there, so that he’d be able to leave earlier and have a long lunch break, but he decided against it.

Jungkook cringes at the bag. “No.” he lays his head back down on his fluffy pillow, eyes closed. “Go away.”

“No.” Taehyung parrots. “C’mon, I got you breakfast.”

“I already had breakfast.” he defends.

“Bird food?” the athlete grumbles something incoherent that he decides to swiftly ignore. “Hurry the fuck up, get out of bed. I’m here, so I won’t be going anywhere.”

“Why are you even here already?” Jungkook opens his eyes to look at him, narrowing them in a glare.

“The patient that I was supposed to have before you wasn’t able to make it, so I decided to come here earlier. I was meant to start the session right away, but I decided to take full advantage of your amazing backyard, and sit there having breakfast. Worry not, though, because you’ll be enjoying the sun, while having some chicken nuggets and baby-carrots.”

“Why the hell did you get me baby-carrots?”

“As bait for your healthy ass.” Taehyung admits with a smile that only makes Jungkook groan again, and lay his head down, set on ignoring his presence. “Jeon.”

“What?” he mumbles into the pillow.

“Get up.” the doctor instructs.

“Why, really, why would I want to abdicate another hour of sleep to sit outside in the sun eating fast food that will make me gain weight that I won’t—”

“I can assure you with certainty that a bag of four chicken nuggets will not make you gain weight. Besides, you need to start caring less about that while you’re recovering, so you’ll enjoy those damn nuggets proudly while in the sun. I know that you like the sun, so hurry up.”

Jungkook pushes himself into a sitting position, his upper body void of any clothing, tattoos on display as the sheets fall to his lap. “You’re annoying.”

“Also proudly, thanks.” Taehyung shrugs. “C’mon.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to.”

“Hm, let’s analyze this. You liked the nuggets, so you’ll definitely enjoy this time, too. You like the sun, so there’s no reason for you to not like it today. And I recall, with my great memory, that you admitted to enjoying my presence when I have my mouth shut. I’ll be quiet if you join me outside.” Taehyung lists off on his fingers, resting his side on the doorframe.

Jungkook presses his lips together in a thin, annoyed line, but ends up groaning again. “Fine, alright, whatever. Get out so that I can get dressed.” he says.

Taehyung grins. “Are you embarrassed that I might see your Spider-Man sleeping shorts?” Jungkook glares.

“How the fuck are you so punchable? It’s a talent.”

The doctor snorts, already stepping away from the room. “I might lose, but I’ll put up a fight.” he threatens right back. “You have five minutes to get dressed and ready to go outside, or I’ll drag you however you’re presented.” and like that, the door closes.

Jungkook opens his mouth to complain some more, but he’s not quick enough to do so; he has to settle for silence instead, his willpower nowhere near enough to make him want to complain to the door. He pushes the sheets away, stretching his arm to get the chair closer to the bed. He should be sleeping.

But he must admit that this is a good distraction. He just won’t say it out loud.

It does not take him five minutes to get ready. He’s independent enough to do it by himself, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get frustrated with things that should be easier by now. Be it the sweatpants that refuse to go in right, or the sweater that is too high up and it’s hard to reach. Still, he manages.

Taehyung waits outside, doesn’t follow through with his empty threat; he would never do something like that. They settle together on a spot by the pool, Taehyung already carrying the things that they’ll need for the session so that he doesn’t have to go back to get them once their working hour starts.

He spreads out a blanket on the grass where they both then sit. Jungkook eats the baby-carrots without any fuss, but doesn’t dare touch the nuggets, while Taehyung happily and gladly enjoys the breakfast sandwich.

They’re silent for a while, until the doctor decides that it’s enough of that. “You seem really interested in the pool.” he points out.

“You said that you’d be quiet.” Jungkook says right away, and Taehyung’s a little taken aback.

Still, “You’re right.” he nods, taking another bite as he lets the silence surround them again, both facing the front. Jungkook tugs on his lip ring, realizing the way that he’s just talked. It’s still morning, and he can still make it a positive day, he doesn’t want to be upset.

“I really like swimming.” he says after another minute.

“Well…” Taehyung takes another bite. “…regain feeling in your legs, and we’ll be swimming there soon.”

Jungkook blinks. “We?”

“You really didn’t pay attention at the start, did you?”

“No.” Taehyung’s not surprised one bit.

“Water therapy is very, very good and effective, so once you start being able to use any strength at all from your legs, we’ll get you in there. We’ll get you swimming soon, we just need your legs to cooperate.”

“Oh. Really?” that sounds quite nice, he thinks.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I think t—”

“Why do you get along with everyone but me?” the athlete blurts out before he can stop himself, and he doesn’t even know where that came from. Taehyung stops mid-sentence, looking at him with a puzzled look in his eyes, but he can’t show lack of confidence now.

“Sorry?” he tries to check, first and foremost.

“You heard me.” Jungkook states, poised.

“I did hear you, I just didn’t understand the question.”

He understands then that there’s no way out of that conversation, and he hates it, but he’s not going to coward away. He couldn’t stop thinking about it the night before, and he’ll simply get his answers. “You get along with everyone. You’re nice, and everyone likes you. Why do you hate me if you get along with everyone that you meet?” he asks.

Taehyung deadpans. “Are you forgetting how you were to me when we met a couple of months ago, or…?”

“Don’t fucking put the blame on me. You already hated me when you got hired, you couldn’t stand me. Why?”

The doctor considers what to say, before nodding as he puts his burger down to face him a little better. “That is fair, actually. I didn’t like you because I knew of your reputation, and I don’t like fighters, as it is. I just did—”

“Yugyeom is a fighter and you got along with him.”

“Maybe I was just being nice—”

“You were never nice to me.” Jungkook accuses.

Taehyung can’t say that this isn’t highly amusing.

“You threatened me from the moment that we met.”

“Yeah, but—” he hesitates, stops.

“Go on.” the elder encourages.

“I’ve been… calm, and trying to be nice in general for the past week or so, and I do feel lighter like this. I don’t have as many dark days, so… I want a truce.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “You want a truce?”

“Yes. That means that you can’t be an ass to me, nor can you allow my reputation or whatever the fuck to make judgments for you. Not that my reputation is incorrect, because it’s pretty accurate, but still.”

“You know that it goes both ways, right? You also can’t be an idiot, and can’t think that you’re allowed to be a bitch to me just because you’re having a tough day.”

“Are you seriously calling me a bitch while I’m trying to be the bigger person? I’m trying to fucking solve this, don’t insult me.” Jungkook complains. “But, yes, I’m aware that it must go both ways. I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” he gives in rather easily.

Taehyung snorts. “Ok. Friends.” he holds a hand out.

Jungkook meets it with his tattooed one, shaking it. However, before Taehyung can pull it away, the athlete tightens his grip to keep their hands locked and in place.

“Acquaintances.” he corrects.

“Fair.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jimin gasps as he sees the physiotherapist approaching his car, so he quickly exits his own to be able to catch him before he leaves. “Hey!” he greets.

“Uh— Oh, hello.” Taehyung’s eyes widen a little bit upon seeing the supermodel walking up to him with a smile. He bows, and is rather surprised when the other mirrors the action; polite and respectful. “We just finished up on a session, he went back to his room, so you’ll be able to find him there.” he explains.

“Thanks, Taehyung-ssi, but I wanted to catch you for a moment first…” Jimin admits, tucking a little strand of hair behind his ear. Taehyung raises an eyebrow, not too sure whether he’s reading the signs correctly or if he’s hallucinating — it does look like flirting to him.

“Alright… And what would the matter be?”

“I was wondering… Could I, perhaps, get your number? You seem very interesting, and I enjoyed your humor when I was here… Our interaction was brief, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. You made me laugh, and you’re gorgeous so I see many reasons for me to want your number.”

Taehyung has no idea of how he manages to keep his jaw in place when it almost falls to the floor. He can’t believe his ears. Park Jimin, of all people. Park Jimin is asking for his number. Only an idiot would say no.

And maybe he’s an idiot. “This is insanely flattering, but you’re… you’re not my type, Jimin-ssi.” he explains, as nicely as he can, because he’s never been good at rejecting people. He kind of hates himself for rejecting someone like Park Jimin, but he can’t be dishonest.

Jimin doesn’t even try to hide his shock. “Are you trying to say that I’m ugly?” he asks, flabbergasted.

“Jesus, no, not at all. It’s on the contrary, really. You’re too pretty, and too… delicate for me. I like— well…” he hesitates, unsure of how to word it without sounding like an absolute idiot, or offending the model.

“Oh.” Jimin’s shoulders sag. “Manlier men…?”

“That’s an offensive way to word it, you’re manly in your own way, just as I am manly in my own way. I suppose that that’s a way to describe it, though. I like putting manly men in their place. Is that appropriate to say— Well, it’s said now. That’s it.”

“Ah… I see.” the model’s eyes widen for a moment before he smirks, and then he giggles. “Okay, I understand that. For a second there, I thought that you were calling me ugly or something.”

“C’mon, you know how you look.” Taehyung tsks. “You are… too pretty for a common man like me, even. I’m flattered by you wanting my number, but I’m nowhere near your level. I’m just… a regular person.”

“No, that’s not right. You’re funny, very attractive, and confident. That’s all that it takes to make someone swoon.” Jimin corrects. “I appreciate the polite explanation, though, rather than just saying no. We can be friends instead.” he smiles. “No hard feelings.”

“Why’d you consider me a friend?”

“Why not?” he tilts his head.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Alright. Friends.”

Jimin giggles again, then bows. “I won’t hold you off any longer, I’m sure that you have better things to do.”

“I do need to grab lunch and get ready for my next session, so I’ll get going. Thank you, again, for the huge compliment. It was nice seeing you, Jimin-ssi.”

“Likewise…” they bow to each other yet again, and the model watches the other leave to his car before turning around on his heels to go inside the house. He almost jogs to Jungkook’s bedroom, and opens the door without even knocking — He finds a very startled man switching to his bed, surprised to hear the door.

“Christ, Jimin, knock fir—”

“I’ve just been rejected for the first time.” Jimin says through a pout, walking closer to the bed. “Taehyung didn’t give me his number, and proceeded to say that I’m not his type.”

Jungkook blinks, looking up at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” there’s something inside of him that is pleased with the new information, but he doesn’t really understand why, nor does he want to. He doesn’t like sharing, and that’s his therapist, so that must be it.

“It’s not ‘hm’, I’ve been rejected for the first time ever.”

“Maybe he j—” Jungkook stops abruptly when his best friend plops himself in his bed. “Absolutely not, get up right in this instance. If you want, we can go to one of the spare rooms. Don’t lay in my bed, Min.”

“I’ll never understand your issue with people in your room.” Jimin mumbles. “Let’s go to another room, then, because I want to cuddle… and don’t say that you don’t like cuddles. You’re way too cuddly to say that.”

“I’m not cuddly, I’m just bigger than you.”

“Which makes you cuddly.” Jimin shrugs, getting up from the bed. “Do you want, uhm, help? I don’t know whether it’s rude to ask or not… Don’t be mad…”

“It would be worse if you had gone for it without asking, so l appreciate the fact that you asked beforehand. Still, no. I don’t need help to do anything.” Jungkook says, rather defensively, as he tugs his chair closer.

“Alright, you got it.” Jimin smiles, nodding twice.

“Wait, why aren’t you his type?” Jungkook asks all of a sudden, pausing where he was just about to switch onto his chair, and his friend raises an eyebrow.

“Why are you curious?”

“I’m not. Just asking. Everyone into men would like you, I assume. That’s all. Why the fuck would I care?”

Jimin giggles. “I got it, don’t worry. He just said that he prefers… manlier men. I’m a princess, and I’m high maintenance. That’s not his type, which is fair.”

“Oh. I see, I see.” Jungkook nods, looking back to his wheelchair so that he can sit down. “That’s fair.”

“Anyhow, come on, let’s go.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going…” he mumbles, fixing his position on the chair. “He’s a hard person to talk to, as it is. He rejected my nurse, too. It happens.”

“It’s still surprising.”

Jungkook just hums. It’s quite entertaining.

And relieving, for some reason.

Chapter Text

It’s little past nine when Jungkook grabs his phone to blindly reach for the button to end the call that positively startled him out of his dream. His finger hovers over the red circle, and he hesitates.

Hoseok’s contact name is on the screen. He hasn’t talked to Hoseok in a few weeks, and he’d be lying if he said that he’s not avoiding his manager.

Not necessarily on purpose, but if he can, then why wouldn’t he? All the conversations end up being about the same subject and nothing else, and he’s tired of his new condition being the only thing that people care about.

He’s tired of talking about it, as it is.

With a sigh, he moves to the green circle instead, pressing on it.

“Hey.” he greets, lying back down.

“Jungkook, hey.” Hoseok’s voice sounds as lively as he remembers, and he really doesn’t understand how the elder can be so happy all the goddamn time. “Did I wake you up? You sound sleepy.” he notes.

“Yeah, I was asleep.” he half-mumbles.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’d always be up really early, so I thought that you’d be up by now… It’s my fault for assuming. I’m sorry.” Jungkook has to hold back from mentioning how there’s absolutely no reason to get up early as he used to, given that he can’t do anything that he did: he can’t run, he can’t exercise, nothing.

“It’s ok.” is what he says instead.

“I can call later, if you’d like—”

“I’m already awake, so there’s no reason for that.” he interrupts before the other can end the call. “Just go on. What did you want to tell me? What’s this call for?”

“Uhm, you see… I got a visit and— and he’s kind of demanding to talk to you, I don’t want to send him away, nor do I know how to. I’ve been avoiding him just as you asked me to, but he just showed up…”

“Whom?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “Huh?”

“Hwan.”

“Shit.” the athlete mumbles to himself, free hand rubbing his eyes. “I don’t want to talk to him, so you can say that I just ended the call, and that’s about it.”

“He said that he’ll go over to your house if you don’t speak to him… He’s worried, but I think that he’s quite angry at you, too. I think that— I think that you should tell him about what happened, Kook. It’s only fair.”

“No, it’s not fair that I’m being forced into this, Hoseok.”

“I know— Kook, I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve been avoiding him for months now, but he just showed up at my office, and he’s standing by my door as I talk to you.” he whisper-yells, and Jungkook closes his eves to breathe in and out. “Please, talk to him.”

“Fucking— Fine, pass the phone.” Jungkook gives in, and he can hear the rustling of the phone being passed to someone else. He’s not nearly awake enough to be prepared for this conversation. “Hello, Hwan.” he says.

“Jeon, what the fuck is going on?” his coach asks, voice significantly less stern and angry than he expected to hear. “I’ve been calling you for months now, trying to talk to Hoseok, your family, you, and no one picks up their fucking phone. I’ve been worried sick, and the headlines are confusing as shit. What is going on with you? What happened in the crash?!”

Jungkook sighs. “I got injured.” he admits.

It should probably get easier and easier to talk about it, but it doesn’t. Whenever he has to tell anyone, or to have any sort of conversation with the ones who know, it hurts the same, it bothers him the same.

“Yeah, I assumed so. How bad is it?”

He gulps. “Bad.”

There’s a pause. “Jungkook, what’s going on…?”

“I suffered some spinal cord injury. I, uhm, I can’t walk anymore. I can’t… I can’t feel anything from the waist down.” the words sting, and he wants to end the call right then and there, avoid the pity answer that he can feel coming from his coach, but he doesn’t move.

“What…?” the elder whispers, his voice shaky. “This isn’t— What…? Jungkook, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Jungkook bites down on his teeth, his free hand closing into a tight fist. He hates it when they say that, that they’re sorry as if that does anything.

He hates the pity, he hates that they don’t know what to say, and he hates that they make him talk, only to then be silent.

“Is it treatable…? Will you ever, uhm, walk again?”

“I’m working on it. I don’t know.” he gulps; he refuses to tell someone else how he hasn’t made progress, and how he doesn’t think that he’ll get anywhere. “Maybe.”

“Jesus Christ…” his coach says, not really to him. “I had no idea that it was something this bad. Fuck, man.” Jungkook hates this too much. “Fuck.” he parrots. “I-I don’t even know what to say, I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Yeah, I have to go.” Jungkook says as he pulls the phone away from his ear, and he can hear the other man calling after his name twice, but to no avail. He ends the call, throws the phone to the foot of the bed, only to hear it fall to the floor unceremoniously.

He’s lost count of how many phones he’s broken when angry; either throwing it against walls, or smashing it to the floor. There was one time when he managed to break it by gripping it too hard — he’s still surprised.

Jungkook pulls the covers over his head, closing his eyes. He hates having to tell people about what happened, and he hates their reactions. He should be waking up soon, ready to meet Taehyung for their session, but his mood has been ruined more than he could ever imagine at nine in the morning, and he’ll be sure to stay right there, under his sheets, and ignore the world for the rest of the day.

It just can’t get any worse.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung presses the four-digits code into the door to unlock it, still quietly singing a song that he was listening to on the radio. He’s in a good mood. A patient of his made a great improvement today, and his son made him laugh a little too much while getting ready; it’s a good day. Well, so far, of course.

His singing is positively interrupted by the woman standing by the door, her hands linked at her front, an apologetic smile curving her lips. “Good morning…”

He can immediately tell that there’s something going on. “What now?” he asks, closing the door behind himself. “What did he do? What’s going on today?”

The nurse sighs with a shrug. “I went there to get him ready for your session, but he’s locked his door. I don’t know what’s going on, either, I’m sorry.” she explains.

Taehyung breathes in and out. “Leave it to me.” he gives in, fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder, already stepping away; but halts. “Good morning to you, too. I’m sorry, I didn’t greet you back.” he adds.

“Oh, don’t worry.” she waves a dismissive hand.

The doctor gives him a close-mouthed smile, turning on his heels to walk to the bedroom. The house is enormous, but it only has one floor, which is amazing, given what happened. At least Jungkook can go wherever he wants in his own home.

Well, minus the basement and the pool that he was told to be at a lower floor, used for parties and what not. Maybe they can use it for their sessions whenever they get to it; it’s more private than the one outside.

Once by the bedroom, he knocks once, twice.

Jungkook groans under the covers, silent.

“I know that you’re there.” he hears Taehyung’s voice.

“Go away.” he says, loud enough to be heard outside. “I’m not in the mood.”

“And I’m not in the mood to talk to a door, yet here I am.” the physiotherapist says with a tone far from angry, lightly knocking on the door once again. “Hey.”

There’s a pause, Jungkook tugging on the ring around his bottom lip, before sighing. “Just go.” he says.

“Can you open the door and kick me out properly? I don’t obey to wood, so I’m not going anywhere.” the elder ignores his order, and Jungkook refuses to even move a single muscle. “C’mon, get up.” again, there’s no answer, nor does the athlete move.

He doesn’t want to do anything. Even if, technically, he doesn’t have to do anything for their sessions, it’s mentally exhausting to lay there, watching the hands touch him while, simultaneously, not feeling anything. It’s tiring, it’s consuming.

“Alright, you leave me no choice.” Taehyung says, and he thinks that it means that he’ll just leave, but no. “I’m going to knock until you come here to stop me.”

It’s an empty threat, he believes. It must be.

Once again, he’s proven wrong when Taehyung’s knuckles start hitting the wood multiple times, one after the other. Jungkook pushes the sheets away from his head, staring incredulously at the door as if Taehyung could just feel the heat of his eyes, but the knocking doesn’t stop. “You’re kidding…” he whispers.

“I’m legit not going anywhere, dude.” Taehyung says.

“Oh, fucking hell…” Jungkook mumbles to himself, pushing the sheets away before turning the lights on, and he makes sure to say all the curse words that he knows while changing to his wheelchair.

He’s still in pajamas, a simple pair of sweatpants and nothing else, but he just goes as quickly as he can to the door. The knocking stops when he starts unlocking it, which he’s beyond grateful for. “Knock again one more time, and I’ll break your hand.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, before knocking on the now open door. “So scary.” he teases, lifting both of his hands when Jungkook tries to make a grab for it. “You look like crap today, Jeon.” the doctor points out.

“That’s impossible.” he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms across his bare chest. “I’m only here to kick you out, as you so much wanted. You’re kicked out. Bye.”

“Not so fast.” Taehyung holds the door back with his hand when the younger man tries to close it, and he stares down at him for a few seconds, trying to read his expression now that they’re face to face.

Jungkook does look terrible: tired, his eyes a little red, be it from sleep deprivation or from crying, and his eyes look as cold as they used to in the beginning.

Taehyung can tell that something happened. “Do you want to go sit by the pool for a bit?” he offers, rather than mentioning the session right away. They can talk for a bit before getting to work.

Jungkook gulps. “No.”

Taehyung smiles. “I think you do. C’mon.” instead of waiting for him to move, he walks around Jungkook’s chair to get his hands on the handles, and begins pushing it away from the bedroom.

“What the f— Stop—”

“Shh…” Taehyung slaps his hand away, albeit weakly, when the other tries to push his own from the chair.

“I’m not even fucking dressed.” Jungkook argues.

“I’m not looking.”

“That’s not the fucking point, it’s cold.”

Taehyung cackles. “No, it’s not. The sun is out, it’s warm outside. I’m not letting you go in your room to lock yourself there again, I’m not that stupid.”

Jungkook groans, crossing his arms as he faces the front. “Fine.” he gives in rather easily, and Taehyung will remember to pat his own back later.

“Good.”

They both remain quiet while Taehyung pushes the wheelchair all the way until they reach the backyard, and he stops by the pool chairs. He locks the wheelchair in place, and settles his bag down, afore sitting down, too. The chairs are comfortable.

He could easily spend an entire afternoon basking in the sun right there, lying on one of those chairs, with a cocktail on the table next to him. Rich privilege.

Jungkook still has his arms crossed, and he fixes his eyes on the pool water, moving just the slightest with the light breeze. He hopes that he’ll get to swim again someday, let the cold water refresh his body.

“What happened?” Taehyung breaks the silence after around a minute that he deems as enough. “Hm?”

Jungkook sighs. “I’m really not in the mood for a session. I don’t want to do it. I just want to be left alone today. I— Seriously.” his voice doesn’t sound demanding as it did a few months prior when he’d refuse to cooperate. No, this time it sounds like a plea.

It’s almost like he’s begging Taehyung not to insist, while also keeping his composure; his pride. Thankfully, Taehyung has become a little better at reading him, at understanding when to and not to push.

“Okay.” he says with a nod. “We can forgive one day, your progress won’t be all lost from one day to the other.” the relief that washes over Jungkook’s eyes is almost painful to witness. He wants to ask and find out exactly what happened, but he respects his silence.

“Okay, that’s good.” the younger whispers.

Taehyung stands. I’ll just… go to the kitchen and—”

“No.” Jungkook interrupts.

“Sorry?” he halts.

“Why’d you go to the kitchen?” Jungkook asks, eyes still very much on the pool water. It’s more interesting.

“Well, because that’s where I’d spend my time here when you skipped your sessions, so I’m simply assuming that I can still go there if we’re skipping our session today. I’ll let you be, and I’ll just go there.”

“Yeah, but—” he stops.

Taehyung tilts his head. “But? But, what?”

“You can just stay there.” Jungkook meets his eyes, gesturing to the pool chair, before facing away again.

“Ah…” he drags out as he sits down. “You just want my company, I see. I’m understanding what you mean.”

“Fuck off, really.”

Taehyung cackles. “Just tell me what’s wrong. Why are you in such a mood today, that you can’t even just lie there for an hour doing absolutely nothing?” he asks.

Jungkook fixes him with a glare. “Remember our deal of being nice?” he recalls their conversation just a few days prior, where they had both agreed to end whatever bad blood that existed between them.

“And when did I break it?” he challenges.

Jungkook’s silent for a few seconds. “Whatever.”

“Don’t run from the question. Tell me.”

“I can’t fucking run, Taehyung.” and, at that, the doctor lets out a snort at the suddenness of the joke; he didn’t even notice his word choice. “Oh, you’re laughing?”

He quickly puts on a serious face. “Nope. Tell me.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, not as offended by the giggling as he believes that he should be. “My manager called me earlier this morning. My boxing coach wanted to talk to me… I told him about what happened, and he didn’t know what to say, just said ‘sorry’ and fucking— that pity-ass shit that people say when they hear about the accident. I hate how people act, and I hate how they make me tell them, but then make me feel fucking worse with their annoying fucking reactions. I fucking hate pity, and— and everything.”

“I’m seriously not invalidating how you feel, because you’re allowed to be offended and angry at how people react, but I’m sure that you can understand how it’s a shock for anyone to hear about what happened. You used to be at the top, people fear you and, suddenly, you’re in this situation. It’s a shock, especially for those who know you and are close to you. They don’t react like that to make you feel worse, it’s just… it’s hard to find comforting words when you can barely process the information… Not everyone is good with words.”

The athlete remains quiet, simply looking at him as he listens to what he’s saying, and he sighs. “You have a point.” he admits. “I still wish that people didn’t say anything if they don’t have anything good to say.”

“Wait…” Taehyung's warm smile falls, giving place to a puzzled expression. “Your team doesn’t know about what happened to you? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, they don’t know… I’m still paying them in hopes that, one day, I’ll need them again, but, uhm, no. They don’t know anything. Only about the car crash.”

“Before I ask what matters, how do you have money to pay them for months when you’re not working?” the doctor asks with an eyebrow raised, curious.

Jungkook hums. “I have a lot of money, Taehyung. I make money pretty much every second, still. I get paid for a lot of things, and have many investments globally.”

“That’s so revolting to a humble worker.” Taehyung almost mumbles, running a hand through his hair to push it out of the way. “But, anyway… What are you so afraid of? Why don’t you tell them? Tell other people?”

“I don’t like the reactions, the pity, the fucking embarrassment that I feel every time that the fucking accident is talked about.” Jungkook admits with a pained look in his eyes. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You know that I don’t believe that. There’s something that you’re afraid of, and I’ll find out one day.” he teases, trying to ease the mood. Jungkook has enough stress already, and his expression is closing off more and more by the second, so he deems it as enough.

“There’s only one thing that I’m scared of.”

Taehyung forces a gasp. “Tell me. I’ll pay you.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Lightning bothers me.”

“Oh, what a wuss.” he teases.

“Fuck off, my God.” Taehyung cackles again, nudging him with his arm. “It’s your turn. What scares you?” he turns it around, and the laughing ceases as the doctor gives it a thought. It’s a hard question to answer, far too deep.

“I’m scared of many things, Jungkook.”

“Such as?” the athlete insists. “If you don’t answer the question, you’re a hypocrite.” he accuses. “Truly.”

“Fair.” Taehyung nods, looking down at his hands. “My biggest fear is death. Not my own, though. I’m ok with going whenever my time comes, I’m scared of people close to me perishing.” he admits, and he can tell by the silence that Jungkook wasn’t expecting such a serious answer. “Well, that, and heights. Terrifying.”

“I’m scared of death, too.” he admits, quietly. Taehyung looks up at him, his lips stretched in the tiniest smile at such a human answer from the other. It’s nice to hear it, to see the vulnerability from someone who’s so closed off in front of everyone; always.

He takes full credits from the improvement.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“Thanks…” Taehyung says with a little smile as his best friend pours a good amount of food into his plate, before doing the same to his own and sitting down.

“So, Tae, talk to me. You said that you’ve been pretty stressed lately, so… tell me all about it.” Yoongi encourages, one hand holding a pen while the other picks the first piece of food with his chopsticks.

“I don’t even know the exact reason, if I’m being honest with you… I’ve been getting really hard patients to deal with, for some reason, they’re all freaking stubborn as hell, which drains me…” he starts with a little sigh. “I can’t help but to stress about Miyun getting into a new relationship, because I know that Jiwoon isn’t going to deal well with that, and I won’t know how to make it better for him, which I must be able to do as his dad.”

“Parents don’t always have the answers for everything, and you know that.” Yoongi corrects. “Besides, you’re really young, and it’s understandable to be… confused and unsure of how to do things parenting-wise. At your age, most people are starting to have kids, and you have a whole eight-year-old to look after. Not to mention how he’s too curious and smart for his age.”

Taehyung looks down at his plate, toying with the food “I’m afraid of failing him, you know? That’s my biggest fear in life.” he voices, mind taking him back to the conversation that he had a couple of hours prior. He did not lie to Jungkook — death does scare him a lot, but that’s not the biggest fear. Maybe the second one.

“Failing him how?”

“I don’t know. My parents failed me, and I experienced first-hand what that can do to people. I managed to follow the right path eventually, but what if I fail him too, and he doesn’t have the same luck?” he asks.

“Tae… I’ve been your friend for many years now, and you’re the best dad to that kid. Miyun is also amazing to him, and you two will make sure that he lives a great life, I know that, and you should, too.”

Taehyung sighs. “I’d never forgive myself if anything else happened.” he finally tastes the food, humming at the flavor. “This is great, you’re such a good cook.”

Yoongi chuckles. “Thanks, man.” he shrugs. “About your patients, you know that there are some phases where we just get tough fucking people, but those are the ones that strengthen us, and make us learn the most when it comes to our jobs. You’re great with people, you always find your way through them.”

“Thank you…” Taehyung puckers his lips. “I don’t know why I’ve been so bothered by everything lately. When I went to the club those nights, it feels fucking weird to just be so free like that, you know? I haven’t allowed myself to experience life ever since Jiwoon was born and it felt good to let loose for a few hours, you know?”

“That’s normal, Tae. You’re, again, really young, and you had to stop being a young guy when you suddenly had the responsibility of being a dad. I fully support your nights out, drinking and enjoying yourself. You have many people who wouldn’t mind looking after that little man while you have a fun night for yourself.”

“You’re right…” he acknowledges. “Can I also admit that the freaking hook-ups were really nice? Not the people in specific, and not the sex, either. I quite liked the idea of someone else. I always said otherwise, wanted to be single for as long as possible, but…”

“But… it’s time to get yourself out there, then.”

“Hm, maybe so, maybe so.” Taehyung nods. “I still want it to be natural, so you’re not finding me on dating apps ever again, seriously.” he points, enjoying some more of his food. “Enough of me now, thank you for listening.”

“Anytime, Tae. There are perks of having a great best friend in the psychiatry field, hm?” Yoongi smiles, closing his notepad. “How are things with Jungkook, by the way?”

“You know that I can’t talk about it, otherwise I’ll get fired and face Jungkook’s wrath again.” Taehyung tries, but he knows his best friend too well. “It’s the law.”

“I know the law, I have to follow that one, too.”

“So, you know that I can get in trouble for speaking.”

“Not when it’s me. I’d never tell anyone, and it’d be easier for me to meet Jesus Christ than Jungkook, so there’s no chance for me to let anything escape my mouth. Tell me, how is he doing?”

“Fucking hell…” Taehyung mumbles, putting his chopsticks down. “Mentally, I’m not sure, but he doesn’t look as depressed as a few weeks ago. Physically, I unfortunately have to say that he hasn’t made visible progress, which is scary, considering that it’s been over three months since we’ve started the sessions. Now, we’ve made some progress when it comes to opening up. He’s been talking more freely, and that’s good, he has too much bottled up. It’s like peeling an onion.”

“If he needs a therapist, I’m down. For free.”

“Hm, he does need one, but he doesn’t accept that, so he won’t be hiring you for now. I’m trying to get him there, though.” Yoongi hums. “We agreed to stop insulting each other, and we don’t fight anymore, so it’s good to see him behaving like a human would.”

“Knowing what you told me about him at the start, this is great news. It’s incredible that you’re managing to make him open up to you. His situation is… harsh. He needs people by his side through this.”

“He’d have half of the world by his side if he came clean about what happened, but he’s embarrassed and far too prideful to announce it publicly.” Taehyung shrugs. “His friends are good, and his family is great. I try to be a good ear, too, so he does have people around him.”

“That’s good, that’s good… but give him my number if he needs someone to talk to in a professional setting.”

“Surely.” he nods. “Oh, did I tell you that Park Jimin asked for my number the other day? I felt bad for rejecting him, but he’s not my type… He took it well.”

Yoongi’s jaw slacks. “You did what?!”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“Fucking Christ…” Jungkook curses when his phone starts ringing, forgotten in his bathroom. He rushes to switch to his chair again, which is frustrating when he’s just finished settling on the bed. It’d be easier to ignore the call, he realizes halfway to the bathroom.

He can see his manager’s name on the screen again, and he hesitates this time. His mood is still a little weird, even if his therapist did help it a little

With a sigh, he picks up the call. “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey, I’m glad that you picked up.” Hoseok sounds relieved, and he simply waits for him to go on, remaining silent. “Look, I’m calling to apologize about what happened earlier… He put me on the spot, and we did it to you, too. I could hear what he said, and I know that you hate pity and— and I know that it must’ve bothered you quite immensely. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook wants to scream, wants to yell that yes, it did bother him a lot, and he hates the fact that Hoseok called him to pretty much make him have to tell his coach the truth, which kind of makes it his fault that he had to listen to such a horrible reaction.

He wants to say that and so much more.

However, he breathes in and out before answering. “It’s ok, I know that it’s hard to figure out what to say when it’s so shocking.” Jungkook says, fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants. “Not everyone is good with words.” he adds, using the words that he heard earlier.

“Oh.” Hoseok lets out. “That’s very— understanding of you. Yes, it really is a challenge to know what to say in this situation, and we don’t want to hurt you, or say the wrong thing, so we— we don’t even know what to say.”

“I get that. It’s ok.” he repeats, though it is not ok, and he doesn’t want to hear any sort of explanation to a behavior that he hates. He does understand it now, but it still doesn’t make it any less aggravating.

“I’m glad to hear, Kook. Y—”

“I have to go, I was about to take a bath.” Jungkook lies, cutting him off. “I’m not angry, don’t apologize.”

“Okay, that’s a relief. You go now, then. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Hoseok wishes, and his smile is audible.

“Yeah, for sure.” Jungkook nods, ending the call. He leaves the phone on his lap so that he can push his chair back to the room and, unlike what he expected, his mood didn’t deteriorate even more after the call.

Something in him, deep down, feels… lighter.

A few months ago, he would’ve definitely exploded on the phone, yelling at his manager for going against his will, for failing at his job. His reaction today, on the other hand, is not only surprising, but also… freeing.

He feels relaxed.

He’s not stressed, he doesn’t want to fight anyone.

It’s a first. It’s a nice feeling.

Chapter Text

Jungkook groans, lifting his leg up with both of his hands to transfer it into the bathtub, and only then is he able to submerge his body under the warm water.

Showers are out of the picture, and baths are an absolute nightmare; be it to get in the tub, or to get out. Not to talk about the whole process of getting washed when his lower limbs are dead weight. His nurse did help the first three times, but having someone help him take a simple bath is beyond embarrassing.

It’s not that he’s ashamed of being seen, because he’s not, but it’s the fact that he wasn’t able to do something so simple by himself. Something that was once normal is now a hard chore that he doesn't follow through as often as he used to, and should do.

He’ll never admit that aloud, though.

At the start, he was too unmotivated and too miserable to manage himself enough to bathe every day. Now, although less depressed, it’s still too much work and stress that which he’ll gladly avoid, if possible.

He’s trying. He’s trying his best.

The athlete closes his eyes with a sigh, resting his head back on the edge of the spacious bathtub, letting the low ambient music that he’s put on help relax his overworked brain. White noise is good to quiet the thoughts that he’s grown used to.

The lights in the bathroom are dimmed, and he could fall asleep like this. He’s lost count of how many times he’s fallen asleep in the tub with a scented candle or two, and some music. Baths after fights usually ended up that way; great to dim down the adrenaline. Well, when he ended up in his own house afterwards.

It didn’t happen that often. The adrenaline of a fight and a win — because that was never in question for him — more often than not resulted in him wanting to wear it off in other ways. Which is why he’d be photographed leaving different apartments and houses a little too often for his manager’s peace of mind. He can’t be blamed, though.

He’s young, wealthy, and he knows how good-looking he is. Women are usually attracted to those, and he’s never cared about his reputation enough to say no.

That thought has him sighing again.

I’'s been months since the accident, which means months since he’s last slept with anyone… or done anything at all. It’s frustrating, borderline torturous to suddenly be deprived of something that was so regular for him, but he’s too scared.

He’s never tried anything.

He didn’t want to be faced with disappointment. Today, however, with the slow song as his background and the aphrodisiac scent of vanilla filling up his nostrils, he adventures to allow his hand to slowly touch his own stomach; lightly, hesitantly.

His eyes are still closed and his head is still resting back on the edge of the tub, so he takes his sweet time to slowly build up anything, any sort of feeling that would usually already be starting to grow.

He tries running his fingers over his tattooed chest, going as far as toying with his sensitive nipple, and he can’t deny how good it feels. Even better when it’s the first time that he’s actually taking the time and courage to touch himself in any way.

After two more minutes or so, he deems it enough of playing with his chest, though he’d keep it going for longer, hadn’t it been the desperate need to check whether his lower body is reacting the same way to the touches as the upper is.

The water is clear, given that he hasn’t put any body wash on himself yet, so he’s able to get a complete look of his lap. When he does, his body heats up with a panicked chill, shoulders tensing and pleasure quickly fading away from his grasp.

His body isn’t reacting to it.

“No fucking way…” Jungkook whispers to himself, feeling something tightening in his chest. He only feels like this when he’s about to cry, and he’s not going to allow such a thing to happen. Not now, an hour before having to meet his physiotherapist.

Taehyung would definitely notice if he cried, and that’s not a conversation that he needs or wants to have.

There’s a weird feeling of embarrassment filling him whole, one that he doesn’t even try to fight or understand, and is followed by the disappointment and horror that he feared from the start.

He’s never tried to touch himself because part of him already knew what the outcome would be like. Still, he wasn’t prepared for it. He wasn’t prepared to have his masculinity ripped out of him, it feels like.

The day is already starting in the worst of the ways.

His body doesn’t work, his breakfast made him sick, he had a headache when he first got up and, to make it all worse, his legs feel incredibly weird today.

He’s tired. He’s so tired of it all.

His shaky hand reaches for the body wash, and he squeezes a little too much into the water, unable to get up that easily to get any other product to create enough foam to cover his view. He doesn’t want to see it anymore, doesn’t want to acknowledge it.

He doesn’t even dare touch it, because he knows that he wouldn’t even feel his own hand, to begin with. Now that would be too much for him to handle.

He’d rather not even attempt. Ignorance is bliss.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung’s relieved to see that Jungkook is exactly where he’s supposed to be when he arrives. He’s not hiding anywhere, he’s not trying to get out of the session in any way and, surprisingly, is early.

With that being said, Jungkook’s already in the gym when he gets there with his bags. “You’re early today, huh?” the therapist comments as he walks in, closing the door behind himself with a little welcoming smile.

Jungkook looks up from his fingers, previously fiddling on his lap, to face him. “My mind was racing too much while in bed, I thought that I could just wait here.”

“And you did well.” Taehyung smiles. “Are you ok?”

“Always, yes.” Jungkook nods.

“Now, honestly?” the doctor encourages.

Jungkook sighs. “Just thinking too much today.”

“There are always those days. You really should seek someone to talk to, it’d do you good. You keep these things to yourself, whatever thoughts that consume you, and you’ll burst one day. You really should.” he advises as he puts his bags down by the massage table, and the athlete follows him with his eyes.

“I talk to you.” Jungkook says, quietly. “Kind of.”

Taehyung stops to look at him, hands on his hips. “You don’t. I squeeze stuff out of you sometimes, and you give me tiny details of the huge mess that is going on inside of you. I have no idea otherwise. Besides, a therapist would go through everything. Not just the accident. I don’t know who you are apart from… this. I don’t know your past, I don’t know your upbringings and why it made you the way you are… The fact that you sometimes tell me things, doesn’t equal what a therapist would be able to do for you.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Taehyung can see the way that his words leave the other thinking, which is always a good sign. Jungkook should consider it.

He watches as he sighs, eyes closing for a brief moment. “I thought of that the other day. I think too much, so I— I considered that shit. I don’t like the thought of talking to strangers about my own stuff. I don’t want that. I’m not… ready for that.”

Taehyung would be lying through his teeth if he said that he doesn't feel somewhat proud of him. “That’s alright. Going at your own pace is the healthiest way to go about this whole thing, this whole situation.”

Jungkook raises his brows, surprised. “Yeah.”

“Anyway…” Taehyung claps his hands once. “Get your ass on the table, let’s get started already. I’ll put my gloves on, you know the drill.” he says as he bends down to search through his things, looking for said pair of disposable gloves to wear.

“Uhm…” he drags, looking at the table. “Kim?”

“Hm?”

“Can you just pick me up today?” Taehyung lifts his head to look at him, a little puzzled. Jungkook never liked it when he had to be picked up and, ever since he’s learned how to get on the table by himself, he’s never allowed Taehyung to help him again.

“I can, of course, but may I ask why?”

“My legs feel fucking weird. It was a huge chore to get in the bathtub today, I don’t know. I don’t want to deal with that. Just pick me up. I’ll allow it this time.” he gestures towards his legs and the table, frustrated.

“Wait, huh?” Taehyung straightens up. “Weird how?”

“You know when— You know when you sit on your foot and it falls asleep, so then it’s all tingly and it hurts a bit to touch? It’s like that, kind of.” Jungkook explains, not realizing the way that Taehyung’s eyes grow bigger.

“Jungkook, are you fucking with me?” he checks.

“What?” the athlete finally looks at him, eyebrows furrowing at how shocked Taehyung looks. “What—?”

“You’re not supposed to feel anything on your legs. Not even the fucking tingles, or whatever. Are you sure that it’s not psychological? Do you really feel that?” he steps closer, looking down at him. Jungkook gapes. “I need you to concentrate, Jeon, do you feel it? Do you really feel it?”

“Don’t fucking talk like that, I don’t know. I do. I-l think so, at least. It’s there, and it’s bothered me since I woke up this morning.” Jungkook rushes to explain, still unable to catch up. Taehyung looks like he’s just seen a ghost and he can’t even imagine the kind of bad news that he’s about to receive now. “Why? What the fuck is going on, why are you reacting like that? Do I have to— Is it getting worse? Does that mean— I don’t fucking know, am I losing my legs now, or some shit?!”

“You’re so fucking slow—”

“What the actual fuck—”

“This is great news!” Taehyung beams, his smile genuine and open, as he bends down to shake the athlete by the shoulders. Jungkook blinks up at him, still unable to process that. “You’re feeling something, and that can only mean that we’re starting to see progress! We have to keep going now, and you’ll soon be able to start little movements, I just know it.”

“Wait, what…?” Jungkook draws out, looking down at his lap as he replays the words again and again in his head. The weird feeling means that he’s feeling something, that’s true, but he didn’t think that it’d mean such a thing. He’s getting better? His hope was nearing its end, he didn’t expect anything anymore.

“Jungkook, this is fucking great, how are y—”

“Shut up, shut the hell up. Fuck, my God, what—?!” he finally manages to say and his therapist shakes him by the shoulders once again. “I’m getting better? That’s what this means, right? Be fucking honest right now.”

“I’m always honest with you. That’s what it means, indeed. This is the first step of many, but the most important one, undoubtedly.” Taehyung grins, watching as Jungkook’s expression lightens, and he can almost see a physical weight leave his shoulders. “Can l hug you? This is incredible, seriously.” he asks beforehand.

“No, I don’t like h—” the question is proven unnecessary given that, before he can even finish his sentence, there’s a pair of arms around his shoulders and pulling him in closer. “Jesus Christ.” it’s not a tight hug, but it’s definitely a hug, which he’s not used to.

He can’t recall the last time that he’s hugged someone, and it’s weird when he doesn’t know what to do with his arms and his hands, so it’s really awkward.

“See, I told you that you’d get here. I knew it.” the elder whispers, his low voice right behind his ear, and it makes him close his eyes at the weirdly reassuring tone. His hands finally move, settling on Taehyung’s lower back, even if unsure of whether he should even place them there, and he feels like crying.

He’s improving. Finally.

The hug feels warm now, almost comforting, and it feels as though it ends too fast when the doctor pulls away to straighten up. “Congrats, really. I’m sure that we’ll start seeing more and more improvement from now on, and I’ll be damned if you’re not walking by the end of the year.” Taehyung says with confidence, and the image that generates in Jungkook’s head of himself finally being able to take a few steps on his own, makes a sudden happy and relieving feeling spread across his chest. He hasn’t felt happiness in a while.

He feels his lips stretch in a little smile, his eyes sting.

“Oh, God, you’re smiling. I thought that it was physically impossible.” Taehyung teases, aware of the redness in his eyes that Jungkook would definitely hate to have pointed out, so he doesn’t. He’s smiling.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Shut up already…” he complains, but the smile doesn’t fade away. He’s improving, he’s getting better. He can’t believe it.

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the ceiling for the first twenty minutes of the session, a lazy little smile still plastered on his lips with no signs of going away.

The radio is turned on, even if at a low volume, and the music resonates in the entire gym through the high-quality speakers that he had installed months ago.

He can’t stop thinking about the fact that something good has happened at last, and it leaves room for even more improvement. He’ll have to trust Taehyung and hope that he’s right; that he’ll be walking by the end of the year.

A simple step by himself is all that he needs.

It takes him back to his morning bath, and the situation doesn’t feel as bad now. If he’s slowly regaining sensibility on his legs, then that means that he’ll gain it everywhere… right? It’d only make sense… right?

“What are you thinking about?” he’s brought back when he hears the therapist ask, and Taehyung’s already looking when he meets his eyes. “I can hear your two remaining neurons working at full power.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Jungkook frowns, clearly unimpressed by the joke. “Are you calling me stupid or something?” he asks.

“The fact that you didn’t even understand what I said should answer any question on that.” Taehyung teases, slowly moving the massage gun on his naked thigh.

“You’re insufferable.”

Taehyung grins. “You, too.”

“At least I keep my word. We have a pact, you can’t just call me stupid and not expect me to answer in the same coin.” Jungkook crosses his arms, tsking.

“Shut it.” Taehyung chuckles. “What were you thinking about? I could see your mind working. What’s up?”

“I can’t tell you.” Jungkook quickly says.

“Why not?” he tilts his head. “I’m, in a way, your doctor, you can tell me anything. It’s kind of my job to listen to your concerns. Unless it’s something personal.”

“It is. Kind of. But—But also related to the condition.”

Taehyung takes a moment, then raises an eyebrow. “I feel like I know where this is headed. Just say it, I already know what you’re thinking about.”

Jungkook tugs on his lip ring, thinking the words through. “I was too embarrassed to ever ask the doctors about this, and too nervous to even voice these thoughts out, but, uhm, I don’t— It doesn't work.”

“What doesn’t work, exactly?” Taehyung encourages.

“You literally know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“I do, but we’re not children. You can’t act all manly and mighty and then be too nervous and shy to talk ab—”

“Oh, apologies for not wanting to talk about my dick with a dude.” Jungkook says without even thinking about it, and it makes Taehyung snort.

“What I’m hearing is, had I been a woman, you’d be totally comfortable asking whether it’s normal for paralysis to affect more than your legs?” the athlete presses his lips together in a thin, disapproving line.

“Just forget that I said anything. I can’t stand you.”

“Stop whining.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, walking around the bed to move to his other thigh. “I’m surprised that it took you this long to ask about it. That is usually one of the first questions that men ask. It depends on the condition, and on where you got injured… Some don’t lose their sensibility there, others do. I didn’t know whether you had or not, but I assumed that it was still working since you never mentioned it.” he shrugs. “Why asking me now?”

“Because.” Jungkook stops, unwilling to say it.

“Because, what?”

“You’re torturing me on purpose.” he accuses.

“Jungkook, you brought it up. I’m answering your questions. Well, trying to. It’s easier to talk to a child.”

The athlete groans, running a tattooed hand through

his face. “This is fucking awkward, but fuck it. I was too hesitant to know whether it worked or not, because I didn’t want to face the possibility of disappointment. I was in the tub, and—” he stops, checking to see if the doctor is looking, and feels a wave of embarrassment when he confirms that, yes, Taehyung’s listening attentively and staring right at him. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m just checking how much you’ll beat around the bush before saying that you tried to masturbate, like it’s not one of the most natural things ever.” he shrugs.

“I hate this.” Jungkook mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, that’s what fucking happened. Can you just tell me if it’ll work again or not? I’m twenty-three, I can’t possibly just not fucking do anything again.”

“Rest assured.” Taehyung taps his thigh twice; he doesn’t feel it yet, but he sees and hears it. “I’m certain that if you fully regain the sensibility in your legs, you’ll also regain it everywhere. I’ve had patients that never managed to walk again, even if their legs work to some extent, and their—”

“I don’t want to hear about anyone’s dick, I only care about my own.” Jungkook interrupts him before he can finish his sentence, and Taehyung blinks.

“I forgot about your toxic masculinity ass. I guess that I can just tell you that, yes, it’ll work again. Most likely.”

“Ok, good.” Jungkook nods, looking back up at the ceiling. “I’ve been worried about this since my bath…”

“Well, don’t.” Taehyung reassures. “Have you never heard anyone say that down there it’s almost like an automatic system? Men are simple creatures when it comes to that. There are only very specific injuries that make it stop working, because even in cases that it partially does, it can still get hard even if it has no actual feeling in it. Don’t worry about it, yeah? It’ll come back to life.” he puts the machine down, taking a few steps away to get something from his bag

Jungkook is rather thankful for the fact that such conversation didn’t end up as depressing as he had anticipated. “I’ll… look forward to that day.” he nods.

“Marvelous. Let’s focus on your legs for now, yeah?”

Jungkook puckers his lips. “Sounds good, yeah.”

His shoulders feel lighter now. He’s received not one, but two good news this morning, and it’s a good way to start the day. It’ll be a good day, he’s sure of it. He hasn’t had a good and peaceful day in a long time.

TWITTER

|  better than you 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I had no fucking hope anymore. I didn’t think that we’d get here. I can’t believe that I finally showed some progress. I can’t wait to FINALLY feel something when I touch my legs
|  I can’t wait to be able to move a toe…

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  I’m leaving today with light shoulders. it’s so fucking good and satisfying to see patients improve.
|  I’m so happy that I didn’t give up on his ass at the start… it’s worth it now

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook fixes the sheets around himself, placing his laptop on his legs at a nice angle. He then clicks the little icon to open FaceTime, quickly pressing on his mother’s contact — he’ll invite his friends over later to tell them, too. He did promise her that he’d work on their relationship, and he’s trying his best to do so.

A couple of months ago, he probably wouldn’t call her to share today’s good news, but now he not only feels like he has to, but he wants to, because Taehyung’s right: his mother is amazing, and deserves better.

The call only rings twice before she picks up. “Hi, sunshine.” she greets with a smile. “You look rested today… Did you sleep well?” the woman asks.

“I did, I did… You look good, too.” he compliments.

“Thank you.” her smile is blinding, and he’s reminded of how close they used to be when he was a teenager.

“You’re welcome…”

There are a few rustling sounds, and he can see her putting the phone up against something before sitting down to properly see him. “Why are you calling? Is it just to catch up, or did something happen? I saw a news article about you posting on Twitter, but you called before I could open it…” she asks, curious.

Jungkook blinks; he’s forgotten about how fast those articles are made. “Yeah, it’s about that.” he nods, taking a sip from the green tea that he’s requested to have made earlier. “I had a session with Kim today.”

“I know. You have daily sessions now.” his mother chuckles with a little shrug. “Did it go well?”

“Uhm… I have something to tell you.”

“Good or bad…?”

“Depends. Do you consider good the fact that I’m starting to regain sensibility on my legs…?” he words it in a way that makes the words take a second to sink in but, when they do, his mother gasps, covering her mouth in surprise. “If you do, then it’s good news.”

“Jungkook, are you serious?!”

“Yeah.” the athlete smiles, nodding. It’s the first day in months that he’s been able to smile, and he’s just happy that he didn’t immediately start crying in front of his doctor; that would be way too embarrassing.

“Oh, my God! That’s so good, Jungkook. I knew it, knew that this day would come. I’ve been praying so hard, day and night, for your recovery. I knew that it would work sooner or later.” he has to refrain from saying that it’s definitely not due to praying, because he doesn’t want to ruin the sheer happiness that she’s feeling by insulting her religion now, of all things. Besides, he’s too happy himself.

He wants to cry, to scream, to punch a wall.

He feels too much at once, and he knows that he’ll definitely cry out of pure relief as soon as they end the call and he sees himself alone. He has to let it all out.

“…and you’ll walk again, I know it, I’m sure of it!” she says with a cry in her voice, her hands brought together as if she’s still praying for her words to come true. “I’m so, so happy for you, Kook. What did Mr. Kim say about this? Did he give any feedback…?”

“He’s happy, mom. He said that I’ll be taking steps by the end of the year, if it depends on him. I hope that he’s right… I’m only now starting to get close to feeling something again, so walking or even standing sounds like something still far out of reach, but… but I’ll work my ass off to get there. I know that he will, too.”

“He’s an amazing doctor, isn’t he?”

“He’s fucking annoying, but we’ve made a deal.”

His mother tilts her head. “A deal?”

“Yeah. He’s full of shit, he lied when you were around, he was pretending to be nice to me. The truth is, we were at each other’s throat all the time… but we made a deal to be nice, and we’re— civil. We’re good now.”

The woman blinks. “Come again?” she pauses. “He was always so polite and professional, and you’re telling me that you didn’t get along? Seriously…?”

“Yes. He always did his job properly, but yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you right now.” Jungkook shrugs. “It’s ok now, and he— Uhm, he’s okay. I don’t despise him anymore. He listens to me and he’s… I feel like he’s — and don’t be offended — the only person that knows what to say when it comes to my condition. He doesn’t make me feel even worse.”

“That’s so good, Kook. You’ve made a friend—”

“He’s not my friend.”

She closes her mouth, letting out a quiet laugh. “If you say so. I’m glad that you two managed to work through your issues with each other, and now get along well. I like thinking that you have someone to listen to your concerns… Oh, your dad just got home, can I call him to get here for you to tell him the news?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, that’d be nice…”

“Okay. Honey…!”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“Dad, I don’t like math…” Jiwoon complains when he turns the page, only to find that his homework has about ten more questions for him to solve. He pouts.

“You’re like your mom when it comes to math.” his father chuckles, running his fingers through Jiwoon’s messy hair. “The faster you do these, the faster they’ll be done. Just read the next one.” he encourages.

Whenever he has time, when he doesn’t have to worry about work related things, he always makes sure to sit right next to Jiwoon and aid him with his homework.

Even if he doesn’t need any help, a word of encouragement or a laugh here and there always makes homework seem less like a chore and more like something fun and quick to assure that he’s learned what was taught on that day. It can be fun.

“As you know, multiplication comes first, and then you can do the rest. Just go step by step, as you did on the ones bef—” the doorbell rings through the apartment, positively interrupting him. “Go on, I’ll be right back.”

He’s not expecting anyone, so he assumes that it’s either a neighbor asking for something, or that same teen that has long lost his downstairs key and rings random doorbells in hope that someone will let him up.

“Hello?” Taehyung speaks into the small phone that connects to the downstairs intercom. “Who’s this?”

“It’s me.” he immediately recognizes his best friend’s voice and, without another word, he presses the small button to open the building’s door. He leaves his own ajar, too, so that Yoongi can just walk in once he gets to his floor; he doesn’t like waiting there.

“Who is it, dad?” the boy asks.

“Uncle Yoongi.” he sits down next to him again, looking down at the notepad to check whether his son has started the next problem or not. There’s only one number added, and it makes him chuckle. “Were you that curious about who’s coming, that you couldn’t even start solving the problem?” he asks, teasingly.

“You know, my teacher said that curiosity makes people smarter.” Jiwoon says, as a matter-of-factly, holding his index finger up. Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Mhm, it’s true. That’s why I’m smarter than you, also. Because I’m a very curious boy.”

“Oh. I see, you’re calling me, dumb?” he checks.

“Yes.” Jiwoon giggles.

“Show me your doctorate, young mister.” Taehyung reaches for his belly, tickling it with both of his hands, which makes his son let out the cutest laugh. “Call me dumb again and I’ll sell all of your toys.”

Jiwoon gasps. “You’d never.” he says, horrified.

“I would. Including that Iron Man stuffed toy that you sleep with. Even that one.” Taehyung shrugs, knowing just how obsessed the young boy is with the toy.

“You’re mean…!” Jiwoon whines.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but Jiwoon is always right.” they both turn to face the newcomer, and Yoongi leaves his shoes by the door. “Hey, young man.”

“Hi, uncle Yoongi…” Jiwoon smiles. “Dad said that he’s going to sell my toys, that’s why he’s mean.”

“Well, he called me dumb.” Taehyung defends.

“This kid never lies.” Yoongi teases, ruffling Jiwoon’s hair before sitting down next to them. “I’ll serve myself a coffee, do you guys want anything?” he asks.

Taehyung chuckles. “No, I’m good, but I’ll go with you to the kitchen. Ji, finish your homework, or you won’t be able to watch television.” he points a finger at him as both grownups stand up, and the boy nods. “I’ll check your answers once we come back.”

“Okay…”

Yoongi leads the way to the kitchen, already headed to the mug’s cabinet. “So, are you going to tell me about what happened at Jeon’s house today, or leave me all high and dry?” he finally asks, curious.

“Hm, leaving you curious does sound fun.”

“I will smack you.” Yoongi threatens. “Tell me.”

Taehyung cackles. “Fine, fine.” he lifts his hands in surrender, sitting down. “He woke up today with a tingling sensation on his legs and, throughout the session, we were able to come to the conclusion that he’s slowly starting to regain his sensibility both on his legs and his feet. That is great news. Once he’s finally able to start little movements, such as moving his toes and later on, move his legs at all, I’m sure that the progress will be fast. He’s doing good.”

“Do you reckon that he’ll walk again…?”

“I gave him my word. I never promise that, because we can never know for sure… but I gave him my word, and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t walk again.”

Yoongi smiles. “You two get along now, don’t you?”

“Kind of. We don’t insult each other anymore, at least.”

“That’s already a huge step forward, given how you two were.” he points. “And, fuck, that’s amazing for him, I’m glad that he’s progressing. I need to see him in a ring again… he’s the best. No one else deserves the title.”

“Hey, him walking again doesn’t mean that he’ll be good enough to ever step foot in a ring again.” he has to correct. “We can only hope for that, but his injury was serious, it wasn’t shit and giggles. Let’s be thankful enough if he fully recovers his walking skills.”

“Okay, you’re right…” Yoongi nods. “One can hope, though. I love the sport, but rooting for him was the most fun part. It’s not nearly as entertaining when I don’t support anyone. It’s pointless to watch.”

“Then don’t watch. You’d do yourself a favor.”

“Shut up, don’t be a hater.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Anyway.”

“Anyway.” Yoongi chuckles. “You two will end up being close friends, I just have that feeling. I just know it.”

“Now that’s a stretch.”

“Hm, we’ll see.”

Chapter Text

Something’s wrong. Firstly, Jungkook was already waiting in the gym when Taehyung arrived, not even scrolling through his phone, merely staring at the wall with an empty look in his eyes. Taehyung could almost hear him think.

He rarely ever waits in the gym, to begin with.

Second, he greeted him with a dry ‘hello’, followed by complete silence that has, since then, filled up the gym. The kind of silence that not even the background music can help mask. The awkward kind. The kind that makes it hard to ignore.

Third, and last, he’s been staring at the ceiling for about twenty minutes now, and Taehyung’s had enough of how heavy the air feels around them.

Something wrong definitely happened.

He opens his mouth to speak, to finally break the silence, but he stops when he sees the younger man reach for his phone after it pings with a notification, and he keeps his eyes on him as he checks whatever it might be.

He wonders whether Jungkook’s angry.

Taehyung focuses on the massage, not forgetting to tickle Jungkook’s foot when he walks around the table to change thighs; one day Jungkook will react to the tickling on his feet, and that day will have to be thoroughly celebrated and remembered.

His attention is brought back when he hears a little defeated sigh before Jungkook tosses the phone away, and the bothered wrinkle between his brows is enough for Taehyung to know that, whatever it was that he’s read on his phone, wasn’t positive.

“What’s going on with you today?” he finally asks.

“Nothing.” Jungkook mumbles, eves on the ceiling.

“C’mon, tell me.” the doctor encourages.

Jungkook sighs, again. “When I had my accident, I had to abandon the championship before the very last fight, and— and they didn’t want to just give the title and the belt to the one that I was going to go up against. It was decided that he should deserve it, and that it was also out of respect for, uhm, me…” he starts.

Taehyung nods. “Okay, I’m following.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, I’m not stupid.”

The athlete hums. “That’s debatable.” Taehyung opens his mouth, ready to curse him out in more ways than one, but Jungkook beats him to it. “So, they put that guy up against the one that got third place, so that they’ll fight and actually earn the number one. Which, in the end, is fair…”

“Is this a new thing? I mean, the accident was months ago, shouldn’t it have happened already…? The fuck were they waiting for?” Taehyung asks, trying to engage and actually care about the issue, when he couldn’t care less about the sport.

It shouldn’t even be considered a sport, he believes.

Two people violently hitting each other until one of them can’t even stand back up should not be practiced, much less encouraged and idolized by millions of people; televised for everyone to see. It’s stupid, vile, and dangerous for absolutely no reason.

“Hoseok just texted me some article about it… it’s pretty recent.” Jungkook looks away again. “The fight should’ve been months ago, but it had to be delayed for a bit because the guy that got third place was… not in shape to participate.” he explains.

“Not in shape, how?”

“I broke his nose and two of his ribs, so he was recovering from that to be well enough to fight the final.” Jungkook says with a shrug, as though it’s a normal thing to say aloud. “He was pretty fucked up.”

“And you’re proud of that?” Taehyung asks with a roll of the eyes, sounding just as unimpressed as he feels.

Jungkook looks at him. "Proud of winning? Yes.”

“Proud of breaking someone’s damn nose.”

The athlete tsks. “Don’t give me that morally correct speech. It’s my job, and what I’m good at. I don’t give a single shit about how my opponents leave the ring, as long as they’re breathing. Deal with that, or don’t.”

If Taehyung starts massaging Jungkook’s thigh five times harder out of pure frustration, he still isn’t able to feel it. “I’ll never understand how you can beat a person to the ground and celebrate afterwards.”

He shrugs, crossing his arms. “The thousands, sometimes millions, that I get per fight help with that.”

“That’s disgusting, if I’m being h—”

“Can I just fucking finish what I was telling you? I was peacefully quiet, and you made me talk, and now you’re not listening.” Jungkook interrupts, and the elder only gives him a nod and a gesture for him to continue what he was saying. “That fight is going to happen today.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s shoulders sag a little, finally catching up to the situation. “Is that why you’re in such a weird mood today? Because the fight is happening?”

“Yeah…” Jungkook nods. “I keep seeing people talk about it in every social media that I open, and everyone’s talking about me, and it— Fuck, man, I’ve won this championship in the past four years, I’ve never fucking lost it ever since I joined the sport, that’s how I blew up, to begin with… I was meant to win it this year, too. That stupid belt was made for me.”

Taehyung tilts his head. “You’ve won it every year of your career—? You’re telling me that you joined the sport and, as a newbie, won it?” he slowly processes the information; he doesn’t know much about him

“Scared of me yet?”

“Nope.” he shakes his head, chuckling. “Not at all.”

“You should be.” Jungkook says, but his tone doesn’t sound threatening, so Taehyung proceeds to ignore it. There’s a long beat of silence that follows. Jungkook breaks it soon enough. “I want to watch the fight, but I can’t fucking make myself do it. It would be… too much for me to deal with by myself.”

“I’ll come watch it with you.” he jokes.

“Oh, okay.” Jungkook quickly accepts

Taehyung blinks, gapes. “I was kidding.”

There’s a pause. Jungkook clears his throat. “Yeah, I know. Me too. I was joking, too.” he mumbles the last few words, looking away at the wall. He was kidding.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook doesn’t talk to anyone for the rest of the day.

After one of the, if not the, most embarrassing moment ever shared with Taehyung, he refused to talk to the therapist until it was time to just bid his goodbyes. All that he made himself say was a simple ‘bye’, before he quickly entered his bedroom and closed the door.

If his mood was bad, it got even worse afterwards.

He wasn’t serious when he accepted Taehyung’s offer but, thinking back to it, he doesn’t know whether he was fully joking either. For one, they’ve never seen each other outside of their sessions, and they barely, just barely, get along during those, so why on earth would he ever even consider a friendly hang out?

Two, Taehyung hates the sport and is very vocal about it, whereas Jungkook misses it with his entire being, so he knows that they’d be fighting the whole night, because the former would just simply not understand.

What bothers him isn’t even the embarrassment itself, but the rejection that came after it. No one in their right mind would pass on the opportunity to do anything whatever that it might be, with him, so how did the doctor, without stuttering, say that he was ‘joking’ when he hinted that he’d be ok with him going over?

That doesn’t make sense.

People would beg to be offered the chance.

Taehyung’s an idiot, he believes. How dare he? Idiot.

And he left without even showing any sort of remorse for what he did, which is the most insane part of it all at least in his eyes. So, yes, his mood was ruined.

He told his cook to go home even before making lunch for him, told the nurse that she wouldn’t be needed today, and made sure to get the house emptied of people. He wants to be all by himself tonight.

He wants to watch the fight, see whichever idiot will take the belt that was made to be added to his collection, but he knows himself well enough to know that anger and disappointment will take over, and he won’t be able to get past the openings.

With a sigh, he tosses his phone aside and closes his eyes to maybe, if lucky, just sleep the whole day and only wake up tomorrow. Granted, he definitely won’t be in the mood to see Taehyung for their session tomorrow after being so blatantly rejected for a simple post-work meeting to watch television together.

They wouldn’t even have to talk, because they usually disagree with everything, and Jungkook does prefer it when the other is quiet and leaving him alone.

His eyes open again when the phone starts ringing right by his ear, and he only moves because he sees his best friend’s picture on the screen.

He slides his finger across the screen to pick it up.

“Hey, man.” Yugyeom greets, lively.

“Hey.” Jungkook says back, not as enthusiastic. “Why the sudden call? Did something happen?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m calling to ask you if you’ll be going to the fight, so that we can meet somewhere and go together.” his friend explains. “I didn’t want to go, because in all honesty, I’m pissed that the belt isn’t going home with you, but as a fellow fighter, I have to attend…”

Jungkook chuckles, bitterly. “Do you really think that I’ll ever go outside in this condition? Especially to a public, televised place?” he asks, as though it’s obvious — it is more than obvious. “No one knows what happened to me, did you genuinely think that I’d go? C’mon.”

“I forgot about that…” Yugyeom mumbles, and he can hear the regretful tone in his voice. “We’d always go together whenever one of us wasn’t fighting, so I-I just thought that— It was automatic. I’m sorry. Kook.”

He bites down on his teeth, shaking his head.

He doesn’t want to get angry.

“It’s ok.” but it’s not, really. “I’m not going, if that didn’t answer your question enough. I won’t let the cameras catch me until I’m standing on my feet again…” he shares, because it’s true. He can’t even begin to imagine the kind of articles that would be written, the messages and posts that he’d receive.

It would be too humiliating to handle.

“Will you watch at home, though…?”

“No, I won’t.” Jungkook quickly says. “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” Yugyeom asks, seemingly not catching up to what should be evident. “It’ll be televised as always, everyone can watch it at home and—”

“I know that, Yug.” he interrupts, running a hand across his face. “I can’t watch it because it’ll bother me too much to watch someone take the title that damn should be mine. Everyone knows that I was going to win.”

Yugyeom sighs. “This is pretty fucked up. We have to stay positive, though, and I’m fucking sure that you’ll be running next year again by the time that the championship starts again. You’ll take the belt home.”

“Yeah…” Jungkook looks down, gulping. He’s trusting his doctor’s words, so he better be running next year, even if not in shape enough to compete.

“Would you like me to call my team up and tell them that I won’t be attending? I can go to your place, and we’ll watch the match together.” Yugyeom offers with an audible smile. “I can call my manager right now, and—”

“No, don’t bother… I wouldn’t be able to watch it, either way. Go, enjoy it, have fun at the after-party…” he encourages, because he knows that, even with his best friend's presence, he still wouldn’t be able to control his anger as soon as he laid eyes on the television, and saw the two fighters on the screen.

“Oh, that’s a bummer…” the other drags. “I’ll keep you updated, then. I’ll text you the results…”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jungkook gulps again. “I’ll— I have to go now, we’ll talk tomorrow or something.”

“Okay… It was nice talking to you.”

“You, too.” he makes sure to say bye once again before ending the call, and he puts the phone in his first drawer, and on airplane mode so that it doesn’t bother him again. He doesn’t want texts with the results, nor does he want to acknowledge them.

He just wants to be left alone for the day, so that he can pretend — pretend that no fight is happening, and that he’s not losing the title that he claimed years ago.

It should be easy to pretend… but it’s not.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“…and the teacher told us to just write about that in a short essay.” Jiwoon finishes explaining as Taehyung places a bowl filled with grapes on the table. “Thank you, dad…” the boy smiles, taking one to his mouth.

“Well, then you better get started.” Taehyung encourages, sitting down on the couch. “Let me know if you need any help… Otherwise, I’ll read it once you finish, to check whether you’ve made any mistakes.”

“Okay, will do.” he watches as his son fixes his position, munching on another grape while starting to scribble down something related to the theme given.

Taehyung grabs his phone from his pocket, but he can’t focus much on the screen as his mind isn’t necessarily there. He can’t stop thinking about his second session of the day, and Jungkook’s reaction keeps replaying over and over again on a loop.

He was joking, that’s true. He’d never, so boldly, volunteer to join a patient in anything after work, especially not one that he struggles to get along with to this day; especially not Jeon Jungkook.

The offer came as a joke, and he thought that it’d be an offer insane enough for Jungkook to just know that it wasn’t serious in the slightest. Apparently not.

He could tell how out of words the younger male was after he said that he was kidding, and he could see the regret flashing behind his eyes. All in all, he feels bad. It’s the kind of guilt that he doesn't really understand, because he shouldn’t feel guilty.

They’re not friends, they struggle to have a conversation without insulting each other, and as much better as it is now, it’s still nowhere near friendly, because they’re not. With a sigh, he opens his contacts in search for his best friend as he walks away to the kitchen — away from Jiwoon’s curious ears.

He quickly clicks on the call button, and waits.

“Hello, my friend.” Yoongi greets. “What’s up?”

“I need your wisdom. Something weird happened today.” Taehyung prefaces, and his friend lets out a little noise of encouragement for him to continue. “Apparently, the final fight of that championship that Jeon was forced to quit, is today, and he was telling me about how he wants to watch it but can’t handle to do so by himself… I jokingly said that I’d watch it with him. Grave mistake.”

“Oh, that’s so kind of you… Why was it a mistake, or weird?”

“Because he said ‘oh, okay’, like he enjoyed the idea. But, dude, I was fucking joking, and I said so, and he looked like a— like a fucking kicked puppy.” he stresses, recalling those eyes that Jungkook gave him after he said that he was joking.

“Okay…” Yoongi takes a moment. “What’s the issue here, though? Like, I’m not following you here. You offered, and he accepted, so just go and keep him company.”

“That’s the thing. I’m not going.” Taehyung adds.

“Why not?”

“Because I was joking!” he repeats, exasperated. “I feel so bad now, Gosh.”

“Okay, okay, let me think.” his friend says, and Taehyung can hear some rustling as he sits down on the couch. “Honestly, if the Jungkook accepted my company, I’d fucking fly there. But, anyway, in my humble opinion, I think that you should go. He’ll probably be all depressed, and he’s made evident that your company would make it more bearable… I’m sure that spending two or so hours in a mansion eating rich people’s food won’t kill you.” Yoongi rationalizes, but Taehyung does not like it.

“But we’re not friends. Why would I go?”

“Why wouldn’t you go?”

Taehyung lets out a cry. “I’ll think about it…”

He does think about it, thinking about Jungkook’s puppy eyes many times, and ends up guilt-tripping himself into helping Jiwoon finish his homework faster so that he can drop him at his mother’s house.

The thought of going over to watch television for one or two hours is insane to him, but Yoongi was right: it is a kind gesture, and his nature doesn’t allow him to just not show up when he knows that simply being there will make someone feel a little better. Friends or not, he’s a good human being.

“Where are you going, dad?” Jiwoon asks once his father starts driving the car. “So suddenly…”

“Oh, what a good word, mister.” he praises, looking at the young boy through the rearview mirror. Jiwoon smiles, clearly proud of himself. “I’m going to one of my patient’s houses to help them out with something.”

“But you’re not in work clothes…” the boy notes, and it’s true. The scrubs are gone and, instead, he’s dressed in a white button-up shirt, tucked loosely in a pair of black slacks, and a simple black jacket. His hair is parted a little more messily than what he usually wears to work, but he thoroughly enjoys how attractive it makes him look.

He always has to look good. It’s a must. It’s one of his charms.

“Well, the patient in question won’t be requiring that.”

“Who is it?”

And then, Taehyung makes the critical mistake of informing his son of whom he’ll be visiting as, from that very second on, Jiwoon makes his mission to beg — in every form possible — for him to bring an autograph.

Taehyung knows he won’t, but in the end, he gives in.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

When the night comes, Jungkook realizes that it was incredibly stupid to sleep so early, instead of waiting for the right time to go to bed and avoid every source of media known to men. It’s seven-something when he wakes up, and he’s now too sleepless to even close his eyes.

The television in his room is turned on, the Netflix logo still frozen as he ended up not watching anything, but it’s soon replaced when he reaches for the remote.

He only clicks two buttons, knowing the channel by heart, and he’s relieved to see a tennis match on the screen. He didn’t see at what time it’d start, so it gives him some time to mentally prepare.

He’ll, at the very least, try to watch it, despite knowing the outcome. He’ll get too angry to continue, but he’ll try. He should be able to, because he didn’t get to where he is by cowering away from things.

Tennis is insufferably boring. He’s always thought so, but it’s proven again now that he has to watch the last minutes of the match, but at least it doesn’t last long.

When it ends, the screen is filled with a commercial with a song that he’s very much familiar with, and it makes him swallow, dry. The two opponents are shown on the screen, and he can barely hold back from throwing the remote at the screen when he sees them. It should be him, not that replacement.

No one can replace him, and that’s a fact, so seeing the announcement makes his blood boil in his veins. He can’t possibly sit there and watch it, and he’s stupid for even thinking that he ever could. That’s his title.

He can’t just sit there and watch someone claim it.

He turns off the television, throwing the remote to the bedside table with a scowl, hands almost shaking from the undeniable anger that he feels.

There’s a knock on his door. He freezes, puzzled.

Yugyeom? It wouldn’t be surprising to see him there because his friend is unpredictable like that, but he still doesn’t want to watch the ridiculous fight with him.

He’s ready to open his mouth and tell him to just go to the arena and watch it in person, when the door opens to reveal, not Yugyeom, but Taehyung. He’s dressed in regular clothes, his jacket in his hand and the first three buttons of his shirt undone, and Jungkook doesn’t even mask his surprise. Why is Taehyung there?

“Hello?” is all that he manages to say.

Taehyung chuckles. “So, when does it start?”

It takes him a second to catch up to the elder’s intentions, and he gapes for a moment, eyes shifting from the black television screen and Taehyung’s awaiting eyes. “It starts in twenty minutes…”

“Great, I’m on time. Get up, then.” the doctor encourages, already turning around on his heels. “You’d threaten my life if I even suggested to watch it there, so I’ll be waiting in the living room. Go take off your Iron Man pajamas.” he teases while walking away from the room.

Jungkook’s left dumbfounded. He wasn’t expecting him to show up, much less after the offensive rejection early in the morning, so it takes him a moment to process everything, and reach for his wheelchair.

He has to mention that he is not wearing any pajamas, he’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and lacking a shirt, so he does go to his wardrobe to put a hoodie on. His hair is a mess, so as dumb as it might be to do so to go to his living room, he puts on a hat. Taehyung looked way too well-put together for him to show up with hair all over the place — or shirtless.

His contact-lenses were long removed after he decided to sleep through the day, so he just grabs the first prescription glasses that he finds before making his way to the living room, where he finds Taehyung fixing the pillows and a few blankets on the large couch.

“Did you eat dinner?” he asks as he places two bags on the center coffee table. Jungkook shakes his head, stopping his chair next to where he’s going to sit. “I brought food, so that’s good. This one’s yours.” he hands over one of the bags, sitting down.

“No one’s eating on my damn designer couch.”

“Fuck your designer couch, actually.” contrary to his words, Taehyung gestures to the blankets that he’s used to cover any surface that could be stained in case they dropped their food, and Jungkook’s shoulders relax. “Your couch is safe. Sit here, c’mon.”

Jungkook puts the bag down so that he can, carefully, move to the couch instead, and he can’t help but to feel a little awkward. This is too new, too unusual.

Taehyung seems to be pretty relaxed, not at all feeling his hesitance, so he schools himself to be just as cool with it. It’s just his doctor, he sees him every single day, and it’s stupid to even be feeling awkward or nervous.

“What’s the channel number?” Taehyung asks.

“Ninety-seven.” he informs, reaching for the bag again to grab the box of pre-prepared food. It’s still warm, and it does smell really good, but there’s still a louder part of him that makes him flip it over to check the tag with the calories and nutrition table.

“Oh, don’t bother.” Taehyung catches up to what he’s doing, taking a sip from his Coca-Cola. Jungkook’s eyebrows go up in poorly concealed surprise when he realizes that the tag was ripped off. “Just eat it, it’s really good. I always buy food from this place.”

Jungkook fiddles with his lip ring, grabbing the water bottle before throwing the paper bag somewhere on the floor. “Thanks.” he says, quiet. “How much was it?”

“You’re welcome. And, nothing, consider it a gift.” the doctor dismisses, fixing his position to be more comfortable as he opens his takeout box. “Actually, I will charge you a bit. Can I get an autograph for someone?”

The athlete raises an eyebrow as he takes a first spoonful of food to his mouth. It’s really good, he notes, but he’s more interested in the request. “I don’t give any autographs.” he says when he finally swallows, and he’s only met with a stare so hard that it could be called a glare. “Fine, I’ll make an exception.”

“Marvelous.” Taehyung reaches into his bag, getting a pen and a little notepad as he’s prepared for the occasion. “Sign it to Jiwoon.” he says.

“Okay…” Jungkook puts the food down on his lap to be able to write, scribbling down on the paper. “I stopped giving autographs three months into my career, this isn’t something that I do. You better be thankful.”

“Yes, so thankful.” Taehyung nods, tone sarcastic, and the younger man just clicks his tongue while handing it back. “Now that I think about it, I could probably sell this shit for a good amount of money.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Shut up, it’s about to start.”

“Hm, great.”

They both remain silent as the introductions start, simply looking at the screen while enjoying their food —Jungkook notes that eating while watching it does make it more bearable, so Taehyung had a great idea. And the food is great.

It still doesn’t stop him from scoffing every now and then, hand shaking with the will to just throw the plastic container of food at the expensive screen. He’s sure that if his legs could move, his would be bouncing anxiously the whole time.

Taehyung notices it, he can see the way that the athlete’s face closes off more and more, and so he thinks of a way to start some light conversation that could, maybe, help him relax. “That guy’s huge.” he lets out, out of genuine shock.

“That’s the one that got his nose and ribs broken.”

The spoon is left frozen from where Taehyung was going to take it to his mouth, and he looks between the television and the man sitting next to him. Jungkook is very well built, large and muscular, but the man on the screen is, to put it lightly, massive.

He’s suddenly thankful that he’s never gotten that punch that he was threatened with so many times. “That dude looks like he could fold me like a fucking origami, how did you break anything in there?” he comments as he takes another bite, and he’s surprised to hear a little chuckle; he turns fast enough to catch a glimpse of a dimpled smile. Did Jungkook just laugh at his joke?! Well, chuckle, but still.

“Most people in the sport inject shit, and take shit to get bigger… I don’t, that’s why I’m not as huge. On the bright side, I’m pure strength. I’m not just for show.” he says with a shrug, sipping from his water. “I’ve never put anything in my body that I’m not supposed to.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow, having to force himself to continue looking at the television when the two men start going at it, throwing punches left and right.

“Never?” he asks, quite curious. “Never ever?”

“No, never. I’ve never smoked, I don’t drink, don’t eat shitty food…” Jungkook shares, settling the now empty container on the coffee table, stomach satisfied. His eyes are big, attention never once leaving the screen.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“I have this belief that every famous person has done drugs at least once. I don’t know why I think so, but I’ll die on this hill. I’m fully convinced of this.” he explains.

“I’ve never even touched drugs before.” Jungkook reveals, proving his theory incorrect. “Have you—?”

“I’m not famous.”

“And that’s not what l asked.” Taehyung just sips from his drink, and that’s enough for Jungkook to pry his attention away from the fight on the television. “See, this is so fucking unfair. You know too much about me but I don’t know anything about you, and you act all secretive whenever I ask anything. Stop dodging questions.”

Taehyung meets his eyes. “You want to know me?”

Jungkook groans, looking away. “You have such a fucking talent when it comes to twisting my own damn words against me, and ruining the moment.” he points.

“Alright.” Taehyung chuckles, putting his bowl down on the table, also done with his food. “What do you want to know?”

“How about you just don’t run from questions?”

There’s a pause spent just watching the fight, the only sounds being the commentary and the cheering, but then Taehyung sighs. “I’ve done drugs before. For a couple of years, that is.” he reveals at last.

“Like— weed?”

“Like, coke. Amongst other things.” he admits.

“Come again?” to say that Jungkook’s flabbergasted is an understatement; his mouth is ajar, eyes a little too big and no longer on the screen. “How’d you quit?”

“Something happened in my life that made me realize that there’s purpose in all of this, so l did my best to never touch that shit again. I’ve been clean for eight years now.” Taehyung shares without hesitating, and it’s something that he never tells people.

No one knows apart from his best friend and Miyun. Now, Jungkook.

Jungkook furrows his brows, silently doing the math in his head. “So, you were a teen.” the doctor just hums with a shrug. “That’s fucking dark, Taehyung.”

“It was a dark period, yes.” he nods. “It’s good that you’ve never tried, and never do, even if you feel tempted to. It’s not worth it, and it’s very hard to quit.”

“I don’t— I’ll never.” Jungkook assures, looking back at the television. He would’ve never guessed such a thing from Taehyung; always so professional, and well-put.

“You don’t look as pissed off at the screen.” Taehyung notes after he glances over at him. “You look relaxed.”

“I’m not… as angry as I was at the start. The food helped, and I’ve always found these matches entertaining, so I’m trying to enjoy it without thinking about what I’m losing while one of them wins…”

“That’s a good mindset, Jungkook, well done.” the doctor praises, his words and tone sounding genuine. “However, I don’t understand what’s entertaining about watching people punch each other. There’s nothing to enjoy here…” he argues.

“Leave my profession alone for once.” Jungkook scowls. “It is entertaining. I’m not the one getting punched, so it’s very entertaining.” he rationalizes.

“If you miss that aspect of the sport, just let me know.”

Jungkook gives him a look. “Are you threatening me?”

“Looks like it, yes.” Taehyung nods.

“I’d be the one folding you like an origami.” the younger tsks, recalling the words that Taehyung used before.

“Rude. Such a delight to hang out with…”

Jungkook turns to him. “You were literally the one to—”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

The fight is, in Taehyung’s eyes, too long and ruthless.

He doesn’t like watching people harm each other for no reason and, even with Jungkook explaining whenever there are faults committed, or impressive moves pulled by one of them, he still can’t get himself to enjoy it.

He can tell that the mood starts plummeting when one of the two starts getting too weak to get up and, when the fight is officially considered over, Jungkook’s quiet by his side, fiddling with his own fingers.

The two fighters are brought to the center so that the referee can hold their wrists, lifting up the one that is, then, declared champion. Their faces are covered with blood, and they both look horrific, but everyone cheers.

Taehyung turns to Jungkook, cautious. “How do you feel?” he asks, able to see the mixture of sadness and anger in the other's eyes. “And be honest this time.”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook whispers, and it doesn’t sound like he’s lying, as he looks down at his lap. “I feel weird. I think. I don’t know.” he shrugs, gulps.

“Weird how? Can you elaborate?”

“That—” Jungkook stops, hesitating. “It’s nice to watch my sport after so long, but that stupid belt was supposed to be mine. That title was supposed to be mine. I was supposed to be the one celebrating that win, not that— not him.” he gestures to the screen. “I do think that it’s good that, at least, it wasn’t the third place one to win. That one deserved it more…”

Taehyung smiles. “It’s really good that you’re able to recognize that he, too, deserves the title. I don’t keep up with the sport, as you know, but from what I’ve heard, you really should be the one receiving that title… Life is unfortunate and unfair, though, and it just means that you have to grab onto this and turn it into motivation. You’ll be walking by the end of this year, I’m sure of it, and it’s in your hands to try to start thinking about going back to work sometime next year, too. Or the following, depending on how your recovery goes.”

“Do you think that I’ll ever be able to…?”

“I don’t know.” he shakes his head. “But you have my word: I’ll do everything in my power to get you there.”

That gets Jungkook to open a little smile, the tiniest one, his dimples don’t even get to appear, and he nods. “Thanks. I appreciate your effort in this.”

Taehyung mirrors his smile. “Don’t thank me. Work for what you want, instead.” he taps Jungkook’s thigh twice, before standing up. “I need to pee. I’ll be back.”

“Yeah, sure…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung dries his hands on the black towel, checking himself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom so that he can go back. The fight is already over, so he’ll just clean up and leave once he’s sure that Jungkook isn’t upset over it — or at least not too much.

He hums a song to himself as he walks all the way back to the living room, only for his feet to abruptly stop once he’s able to see the couch. Jungkook lying on his side, dropped over some pillows with his glasses pressed to the side of his face.

“Jungkook?” he calls, kneeling down next to him.

The younger looks peaceful, his lips pulled into a little pout that is too uncharacteristic. There’s no stressed crease between his brows, no angry frown, nothing.

“Jungkook…?” he calls again, nudging him lightly, but that doesn’t do anything. Jungkook did once mention that he’s a heavy sleeper, but Taehyung can’t fathom being sook in his sleep and not waking up immediately.

He stands back up, hands on his hips

“Now what…”

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Emergency! I left to pee, and this dude fell asleep on the couch  |
He sleeps like a fucking rock, I literally cannot wake him up  |
I’ve shaken him like, 10 times already  |

What the fuck do I do?!

|  Bestie
|  Take his ass to bed, that’s what

Me  |
He’s heavy as shit, I’m not carrying him  |

|  Bestie
|  Dude, he can’t move his legs, how is he supposed to fix his position? He’s going to sleep all crooked
|  Besides, spare him of the hassle of having to get up in the middle of the night, sleepy as shit, and getting onto the chair and the bed. Be nice…

Me  |
My fucking God. I didn’t sign up for this  |

Jungkook is heavy, there’s no way to deny it, but he’s even heavier when he’s unconscious, and not cooperating. Taehyung picks him up by sliding an arm under his knees, and the other supporting his back and the younger man just falls limp in his hold

How Jungkook can fall asleep in five minutes, and be so gone is beyond him. He’s dead weight, mouth now slightly parted, and Taehyung will never understand how it even happened. He’ll make sure to ask him tomorrow; he has to have some secret.

Taehyung lays him down on the bed, removing the glasses and the baseball cap gently, and leaving them on the bedside table. He pulls the sheets up, covering him properly lest he be cold during the night.

He goes to leave, but comes back, tucking him in as he always does with his son, keeping the sheets tight to his body for maximum comfort. Jungkook hums in his slumber, wiggling a little before settling.

Taehyung, who usually fights to fall asleep without tossing and turning for an hour at times, can’t understand how easily he got like this.

He goes back to get the chair, leaving it at arm’s reach, before leaving the bedroom for good. He closes the door on his way out, lights turned off.

Then, he cleans the living room, putting everything in a trash bag for him to take on his way out, and fixes the pillows and blankets so that he can go home with peace of mind; he doesn’t want to give more work to the cleaner.

Tonight wasn’t what he thought would be. They didn’t fight, didn’t disagree on anything, and he’d even say that they had a decent time. The food was good, the conversations were friendly. He concludes then, that Jungkook can be decent.

Chapter Text

Jungkook wakes up with a jump, the sound of his alarm interrupting his dream; the kind that should be considered a nightmare with the way that it torments him throughout the days. In his sleep, he generally sees himself walking, sometimes fighting, and it’s always a punch to the gut once he wakes up.

Waking up to the realization that nothing is real hurts. It might not hurt as much as the first time that he received the news, months prior, but the sinking feeling in his stomach is fairly the same.

He pushes the sheets away to get to his phone, shutting off his alarm before looking around the faintly illuminated room. His automatic blinds are programmed to slowly open throughout the morning, so he can see his surroundings just enough with the amount of sunlight coming through them.

What doesn’t make any sense, is how he’s lying in bed.

He has no recollection of what happened the previous night following the end of the fight. He remembers discussing it with his therapist, but he doesn’t remember saying goodbye, nor does he recall watching him leave his house.

The chair is right by the bed, his glasses and hat are on his nightstand, and everything seems to be right, but he doesn’t understand how he doesn’t remember getting there. He didn’t drink, because he’d never, so there’s no logical explanation for the amnesia that seems to have washed out his memories.

There’s only one other person that could have answers, and it’s frustrating to think that their session is hours away: his speedy thoughts won’t calm down, won’t relent, until he has a proper explanation.

He reaches for his phone, opening his contacts.

Right. He doesn’t have his doctor’s number.

His finger hovers over his manager’s name instead and, without giving it another single thought, he presses it and watches Hoseok’s picture fill the screen as the call goes through. The line beeps three times.

“Hey, Kook.” he hears soon after. “How are you?”

“I’m alright… Were you busy?” Jungkook checks.

“No, not really. Not yet, at least. I’m waiting for your accountants so that we can check a few of your sponsor’s transactions… You may be at home, but the checks have to keep coming, or they have to stop using your face.” Hoseok informs, and Jungkook can hear him take a sip from, what he guesses, is coffee.

“Oh, right, that’s— good.” the athlete says, clearing his throat. It’s always great to see millions get transferred to his accounts when he hasn’t even left his house in the past five months. Had the context been any different, maybe he’d call those months a vacation.

“But, tell me, why are you calling me this early in the morning?” the man asks, curious. “Is something going on? Did something happen…? Or did you just want—”

“I need you to get me something.” Jungkook interrupts.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“My physiotherapist’s phone number. I don’t know whether you have it or not, but I need you to get it.” he informs, lying back down. Hoseok is already used to phone calls like this one, where Jungkook asks for something out of the blue, aware that his manager would never fail him.

There have been a few unthinkable requests, but this one seems harmless.

“I have it in my contacts, but I’d call the hospital and get it, if I didn’t.” Hoseok shares, and Jungkook’s well aware of that. “Can I ask what it is for, or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret, but it’s also not public.” that answer is enough for his manager to know that he doesn’t have any intention of sharing the reason, so he doesn’t even try to ask again. “Anyway, send it to me.” he reminds. “Please.”

“Oh? Jeon Jungkook saying please?” Hoseok points out before he can stop himself, and the genuine surprise in his voice makes Jungkook frown to himself eyes on the ceiling. “Now, that’s surprising.” the reality of it is that Jungkook never really thanked anyone for anything, especially not when it's someone working for him, doing their job, so he doesn’t know why he did.

He's gotten used to having to say ‘please’ whenever he requests something from his doctor, even if the word almost rips a piece of his soul along, but he’s tired of the fights, and being polite is a way to avoid them.

“Shut up, or I’ll fire you.”

Hoseok laughs, too bright and happy for such an early hour. “As if.” he says, not at all threatened by his warning — he’s been his manager from the start, and he’d like to believe that, in some way, they’re friends.

Jungkook tsks. “Just send me the damn number.”

“Will do, will do…” the other clears his throat. “Are you ok, though? I don’t want to hang up before knowing that you’re actually alright. You know, because of yesterday’s fight. Everyone was kind of waiting for you to tweet something, but then you didn’t. I’m worried…”

“I had nothing to publicly say.” Jungkook says with a much quieter tone, as if already expecting the conversation to take such a route. “I watched the fight, and he deserved the win, I suppose. It was a good fight, pretty fair. Good for him. I still know that he would’ve lost if it had been against me, but— Good for him. I had nothing to say to him, or to the public.”

“Well, that’s fair…” Hoseok sighs. “Did you watch his speech at the end? He did say that he got lucky that you quit, as he was aware that the title was yours.”

“He’s self-aware, that’s decent.” he shrugs. “But, no, I didn’t watch it. I only watched the fight itself, and that was already hard. I didn’t need to make it worse.”

“To be honest with you, I didn’t think that you’d watch it at all.” his manager admits. “I’m surprised that you did.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised, too.” Jungkook mumbles. “I’m sleepy, I’ll try to close my eyes for a bit longer. Send me the phone number once we hang up, ok?”

“Yep, boss. No worries.” the athlete hums, bidding his goodbyes before pressing the red circle to end the call, and he stares at his phone as he waits.

Not a full minute goes by before it pings with a text.

iMESSAGE

Me  |
How did I get in bed?  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  Huh? Who’s this?

Me  |
Did you get around multiple beds last night? It’s Jungkook.  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  You’d be surprised. But hello, Jungkook.
|  Remember when I left to pee? I took 3 minutes, tops, and you were passed out on the couch. You sleep like a fucking rock and wouldn’t budge. I didn’t want you to sleep there because you’d probably wake up during the night and struggle to get to bed while half asleep… So, I took you to bed. Simple as that.
|  You’re welcome.

Me  |
I’m not thanking you for moving my unconscious body.  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  Are you actually for real?

Me  |
No, lmao. I’m joking  |
Thanks. The couch isn’t comfortable to spend the night  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  Omg, THE designer couch???? How dare you say such a thing?!?????!??!!

Me  |
Goodbye  |

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook goes to the gym by himself this time, his nurse being told to just stay put instead of having to go there in the morning, and Taehyung is already there by the time that he arrives. He’s only two minutes late.

“Well, hello. I thought that I was going to have to drag your ass from your bed again.” Taehyung greets once the doors open, and he’s already putting his gloves on.

“Shut up, yeah? I lost track of time.” Jungkook explains, only stopping the chair by the massage table

“Hm, surely.” the doctor nods, letting him get on the table by himself, and start to remove his own sweatpants. “While we don’t start, how about you telling me how the fuck you got my number?”

“Don’t forget that one, I’m your boss, and two, I can get whatever I want. I asked my manager for it.” he shrugs, handing over the sweatpants for the other to fold and put away. “Besides, I thought that I was losing my fucking mind, I couldn’t remember how | got in bed.”

“No, dude, you don’t understand. I shook you, I called your name, and you didn’t even move. You sleep like a fucking hibernating marmot.” Taehyung stresses.

“Couldn’t you pick a better-looking animal?”

“Seemed pretty accurate.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” he mumbles, resting back down as his doctor starts gathering the necessary tools to begin their session.

“I considered the conversation a success, though, because I got to experience first-hand Jeon Jungkook making a joke. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s possible.” he teases, squirting some ointment onto his hands and he doesn’t rub them together to warm it up this time. “Let me know if you feel the coldness of the cream.”

“First of all, fuck right off, yeah. I’m funny. Like, occasionally. When I want to, and with people that I feel comfortable with.” Jungkook argues, not even registering his own words. “And second, it’s cold.”

“It’s cold?!” Taehyung halts.

“Yes. It’s cold.” his eyes widen, looking down at his own legs. “The— The water in the tub today felt kind of warm today, but I thought that it was just my head making shit up…” he reveals. “Taehyung, it’s fucking cold!”

“Good, the cream is cold, oh, this is really fucking great.” Taehyung’s smile is so genuine that Jungkook is, once again, reminded of how the doctor really does care about his recovery. “You feel tingly, and you’re becoming sensitive to the difference of the temperatures… This is great, Jungkook. One day or the other, you’ll start feeling the massages, and then—”

“Press there.” Jungkook interrupts. “Press there again.”

“Here?” the doctor rushes to do as told, massaging the only spot that he had touched. “Why? Does it hurt?”

“No, I— I feel it.” Taehyung’s jaw hangs. “Not completely, it feels like you’re touching me through layers of clothing and not my direct skin, b-but I kind of feel the pressure of your hands now.”

“Jungkook, are you shitting me?'

“Why the fuck would I be shitting you?” he stresses.

“This is insanely good progress, I’m not joking. I wouldn’t expect you to feel my hands so soon after feeling tingles, this is fucking— insanely good.” the doctor smiles down at him, nudging his arm. “Smile, you idiot, it won’t kill you to show happiness for once.”

“I’m— I’m processing.” Jungkook blinks up at him, and at his legs, then at him again. “What does it mean?”

“Well, it means that this is working, and that we’re getting somewhere. I’d suggest you start doing some massages to yourself before bed, too. You’re improving fast, and we want to keep this rhythm. Once you start being able to actually move, as little as the movement might be, I’ll give you a list of exercises to do by yourself but, for now, you should just massage your legs, your feet, and I’ll be content.”

“Okay.” Jungkook nods, eager. “I can do that.”

“Good. Isn’t it great when you cooperate without being difficult?” Taehyung smiles, the word ‘brat’ right on the tip of his tongue, but he knows that it’d start an argument that he doesn’t want to have. It’s all going well.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why do you provoke me?”

“Because it’s fun.” Taehyung shrugs. “I’m certain that there isn’t a single person in your life shutting you down, and I’m here to humble you, and such. It’s fun.”

“I can’t even celebrate my damn progress, I have to hear your aggravating comments.” Jungkook complains.

“Yeah, surely my aggravating comments are so bad that you said, a minute or so ago, that you feel comfortable with me.” he accuses with a knowing look.

“Wha— I literally never said that.” he scowls.

“Oh, are you sure about that? Because I mentioned your joke, and you said that you only feel like making jokes, or being funny, whatever, with people who you feel comfortable with. I’m just connecting the dots here.”

Jungkook blinks, realization dawning on his face. “I’d pay so much fucking money for you to just be fucking quiet for an entire session. Name your price, please.”

Taehyung snorts. “You’re so fun to piss off.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“Still, who did you want to come to watch a fight with you?” Jungkook presses his lips together in a thin line, closing his eyes. “Are you ignoring me now?”

“I don’t want another word out of you.” he demands.

Taehyung hums. “Fair enough.” he nods. “I’m really happy for you, though. I’m just taking the piss, but I really am happy with the progress. You’re doing amazing, and this is looking good. You’ll be okay.”

Jungkook allows the words to sink in, shoulders relaxing. He’s making progress. He’s going to be ok. And then, his lips stretch in a little smile that he might not notice, but Taehyung does. Still, he doesn’t comment — he lets Jungkook enjoy his happiness.

The silence doesn’t last for long, much to Jungkook’s dismay. While Taehyung doesn’t mind being quiet while the athlete’s mind runs through everything that he’s just heard, there’s so much that he can think of while massaging his muscular calf.

If he doesn’t do small talk with his patients, it all feels the same.

Different patient, different body part, but same routine and awkward silence.

For that reason, he clears his throat. “Jeon?”

“What?” he doesn’t open his eyes, and his voice sounds on the verge of sleep, somehow. “What now?”

“How did you get into boxing?” Taehyung asks.

That does make him open his eyes, head lifting off the table to send him a puzzled look. “Why the fuck are you asking me that? I thought that you hated my profession and everything with it involved?”

“My God, how about you just answer the damn question?!” Taehyung glares. “I’m just making small talk, and we’ve been able to carry out normal conversations like civilized people, so I’m asking you about something that you like, to encourage you to speak instead of sleeping.” he elaborates.

“Taehyung, if I hear a single fucking complaint while I explain how I started my career, I will literally put every second of practice into a fucking punch, and knock you out.” Jungkook warns, looking him right in the eye.

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Lovely. Speak now.”

Jungkook sighs, laying his head down as he eyes the ceiling. “I told you about how much energy I had as a kid, my parents didn’t know what the fuck to do with me, pretty much. They signed me up for every sport they could think of: football, basketball, I ran track, everything.”

“Of course, you were the jock in school.”

“Dude. Really?”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Go on.” Taehyung gestures with his hand, quickly back to his work, but attentive.

“Unbelievable.” Jungkook mumbles. “I was practicing basketball one day, and one of my teammates threw the ball at me on purpose. I was always on edge because of my pent-up energy, so we fought. My coach approached me while I iced my hands, and I thought that I’d be kicked out of the team, but he told me to start taking boxing classes instead… And I did.”

“Can I speak?” he requests, and Jungkook only gives him a look. “Alright, just continue. I’m all ears.”

“Just— be quiet.” the athlete pouts, focusing. “I joined a boxing club for fun, my parents didn’t even know about it, but my coach saw the potential, so I started taking it seriously… I won a few local championships, and they put my name out there. I moved here by myself eventually, and started working on making it a career. Which was a success… Obviously.”

“That’s pretty cool, actually. It’s good that you landed a good coach… Not everyone would just look at a kid and take their potential seriously. You were lucky.”

“You could say so, yeah.” Jungkook nods. “What about you? Why… this? I’m sure that you didn’t wake up one day and decided that you wanted to spend the rest of your days massaging people for a living.”

“I’… I didn’t know what to do, l had no plans, I just had to pick something, and I signed up for a bunch of majors to see what I could land. I picked this out of the bunch that I got accepted into… I only began to really like it and became interested in rehabilitating people while studying. I had no interest prior to it.”

“Really?” Taehyung just hums. “How come you didn’t have any plans, though? Everyone has a plan. I was going to study sports… maybe become a teacher.”

“You’re way too fucking rude to be a teacher, you’d be horrible, you’d make kids cry.” Jungkook makes an affronted noise. “It’s literally true, you’d be horrifying.”

“I can’t stand kids, so maybe making them cry would actually make me a better person in the end.” he shrugs, and Taehyung makes a mental note to never tell him about his son, because he’d either physically hit Jungkook or quit the job if he insulted him.

“Right.” he nods. “I don’t know why you’re surprised that I didn’t have any life plans, I told you that I was neck-deep in drugs and partying. I didn’t care about anything. I had to study the whole summer to pass high school with good grades so that I could even think about applying to college.” Jungkook's demeanor changes, the detail having slipped his mind.

“I forgot about that…” he admits, watching as his doctor walks around the table to start working on his other leg, and his eyebrows furrow at the poorly concealed purple marks on his neck. “You have a hickey on your neck.” he points an accusing finger.

“Oh, I tried to hide it… I didn’t have much time in the morning.” Taehyung doesn’t seem worried, but it doesn’t sit right with Jungkook for some reason.

There’s an ugly feeling in his stomach, the same kind that he felt when he read Taehyung’s texts that same morning, and he doesn’t even try to comprehend it, because it doesn’t make any sense.

“You clearly didn’t cover them properly.” he argues.

Taehyung looks at him, smiles. “Does it bother you?”

Jungkook tsks. “They’re not professional. That’s all.”

“I doubt that me having a fun night affects the way that I help my patients… in any way.” Taehyung rationalizes. “A hickey or two would do you wonders, if I may add. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so pissy all the time, and in a bad mood.”

“Right, let’s just end this here, because I’m not about to rethink about my failing body functions.” Jungkook is quick to shut the conversation down before it can even start, and Taehyung chuckles. “That was a great talk, you can just focus on your job while I focus on a nap.”

Taehyung smiles, entertained. “Alright, I’ll let you have your way today… Just because we’ve already managed to have a successful conversation, and that’s a lot coming from you.” he can’t help but to tease.

“Stop pushing…”

The rest of the session is spent in silence, but it’s not awkward this time. Taehyung turns on the radio, and he can tell that Jungkook’s fallen asleep halfway through it; it’s comfortable, and quiet.

Jungkook appreciates the silence.

While he likes the small talk, he also likes it when they’re just… peaceful. Interacting with Taehyung can be draining at times. Not necessarily in a negative way, because their bickering isn’t ill intended anymore, but it still brings a different side of him to the surface.

A side of him more playful, more peaceful, but that also makes him have to deal with comments and jokes that no one else in his life would even dare make.

It’s different.

Different requires adaptation, but it doesn’t have to mean that it’s bad, so Jungkook is just letting it happen, unwilling to fight — be it Taehyung, or the change itself. He doesn’t want to fight anything right now; he’s too tired to do so.

He fought everything and everyone for months after the accident — even in the years prior to it — so he just wants a break from it all. He’s enjoying this calmer attitude that he’s been embracing as of lately.

Not that it doesn’t make him sick to his stomach not to insult his physiotherapist whenever he says something that would grant him an insult from a past Jungkook but he’s doing his best to be… cordial; friendly, even.

He knows that all of it will disappear once he gets back to his regular lifestyle, though. The sudden friendliness will be replaced by the same amount of arrogance that he used to have. That’s just how it is.

“…so don’t forget it.” he hears Taehyung’s voice, and it brings him back to reality. They’re already in front of his bedroom’s door, and he didn’t pay attention the entire way there; he was too distracted by his own thoughts.

“What did you say? I didn’t hear it.”

“I was just reminding you to do the massages that I told you to do.” Taehyung stops, unzipping his bag. “Here, you can have this ointment that I always use on your legs. Rub it in with the massaging.” he hands it over.

Jungkook grabs the small tube, looking down at it. He has never heard of that brand but, judging by the fact that it is used by a working professional, then he can only guess that it’s expensive. “How much was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” Taehyung dismisses. “Just do it.”

“Well— Okay.” Jungkook nods, putting the cream down on his lap, and the other raises an eyebrow, hands on his hips as if waiting for something. “Thanks.”

Taehyung smiles. “See, that wasn’t so hard, hm?”

“Don’t start.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Just go already.”

“Hm, alright, my job here is done for today.” Taehyung claps his hands once, bowing. “Goodbye, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Jeon. Don’t forget the massages.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jungkook nods, watching the other spin on his heels and start to walk away. His mouth opens, only to close again before he can say anything.

He’s had something stuck in his throat for a few days now, but he’s never managed to actually voice it. When the moment comes, he just closes his mouth and forgets about it for another day.

However, “Taehyung.” he calls him back today.

“Yeah?” Taehyung turns around. “Do you need anything?” he asks, puzzled. “Did I forget something?”

“No, I just— I’ve been thinking about something. Do you have a minute?” Jungkook requests, a little hesitant, and Taehyung walks up to him again.

“What’s up?” he tilts his head. “Are you ok, Jungkook?”

“Yes. I just… Uhm, I’ve been thinking about what you told me the other time. About therapy.” Taehyung’s eyes widen, surprised. “I’m not fucking ready for that, don’t think, but— when are we ever ready for it…?”

“Jungkook, that is great news. Really.” Taehyung smiles. “I understand how hard it is to finally give in to therapy, it took me a while, too… but it feels great once you start talking to someone like that. I’m happy for you for wanting to look into this.”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve never had a therapist before, and I fucking hate the thought of it, but maybe it’s time I do that, huh?” he looks up, shrugging

“Yes, Jungkook, it really is. You need to get a lot off of your chest, and you should start somewhere.” the doctor encourages. “Have you looked into therapists?”

“Not yet, no.” Jungkook sighs. “I can’t risk having anyone share what happened to me with the public, so I’m really fucking hesitant to just pick a random stranger to listen to me. I can’t have my life stories shared, just as much as I can’t have my condition revealed. I already risked a lot hiring you…”

“Well… I see your point, and I understand why you’re nervous about that. If you’re interested, I know a really good and trustworthy psychiatrist. I can give you his number for you to call.” Taehyung offers.

“How trustworthy?” Jungkook presses.

“Extremely.” he assures. “You can trust him blindly.”

“I’d never trust anyone blindly, Kim.”

“You know what I mean.” Jungkook sighs, looking down. “I’ll give you his number, and you can call him whenever you’re ready for that step, ok?” he offers.

“I’ll call him tonight…”

“Will you?” Taehyung inquires.

“I’ll try.” Jungkook nods.

“Okay, good.” the doctor smiles, nods. “I’ll write the number down for you. If you need any encouragement later, let me know. I’m sure you can do it, though.”

Jungkook watched as he pulls out a small notepad and a pen, scribbling something down. He knows that he’s not ready for the conversation, nor is he ready to open up to a stranger like that, but maybe he needs it.

Maybe his head wouldn’t be as loud at night.

Maybe his haunting dreams will lessen.

Maybe his anger will be easier to control.

Maybe he’ll be happier. Who knows.

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Hey, Yoon. Just letting you know that Jungkook’s going to call you tonight  |

|  Bestie
|  Pardon?
|  Was that a combination of typos that accidentally led you into telling me that Jungkook’s going to call me tonight? Best friend???????? Hello?????

Me  |
Oh, God. This was a mistake  |
Jungkook’s calling you tonight. I think  |
Yoongi, PLEASE behave like a normal human being, I beg.  |
A professional one, at that  |
He opened up about wanting to seek professional help at last  |
I told him about you  |

|  Bestie
|  Oh, so he’s not calling me to ask for my hand in marriage…?

Me  |
…be astronomically for real  |

|  Bestie
|  I’ll be calm, I swear. I take my job seriously, I won’t show how much I like him

Me  |
Are obsessed*  |
Jokes and friendship aside...  |
You really are the best therapist that I’ve ever had  |
My suggestion was genuine, and I know that you’ll help him  |
I’m not 100% sure that he’ll call, but he said that he’s going to try…  |

|  Bestie
|  I’m going to CRY

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook stares at the paper in his hand, the phone number scribbled onto it alongside a name. It’s past ten, and he wonders whether the doctor will even pick up if he tries calling now. He should’ve called sooner, but he couldn’t make himself do it.

“Fucking hell… Let’s just do it.” he whispers to himself, grabbing his phone to type the number in — the line beeping only makes his skin crawl, anxiety spike. He closes his eyes, gripping the phone tightly in his hand, lest he coward away and end the call.

He’s not a coward, nor a quitter, and he can’t possibly accept defeat when it’s just a phone call. He can do it.

“Hello?” he hears from the other side. “Who’s this?”

“Is this doctor Min Yoongi speaking?” Jungkook asks, because he can’t be too sure that he properly understood the atrocity of Taehyung’s handwriting.

“That’s me, correct.” the man confirms. “I’m assuming that this is Mr. Jeon, then. I was told that you’d be calling today, and I’m happy to receive your call.”

“Yeah, where exactly do you two know each other from? I need to know whether I really can trust you or not, because I can’t risk my career and reputation by trusting a complete stranger, as you can imagine.” his tone sounds assertive, but Yoongi didn’t expect anything else other than.

This is exactly how he imagined Jungkook to speak, to sound.

And he’d say that he’s doing a good job at acting cool.

“Taehyung and I have been friends for a couple of years now. I take on the role of his therapist, too, whenever he feels like having a session, but we’re friends above all of that.” Yoongi explains.

Jungkook looks down at his lap, eyebrows furrowed.

If it’s Taehyung’s friend, then Taehyung knows him well enough to know whether he truly is trustworthy or not and Taehyung wouldn’t just recommend someone that could expose him, right? He can trust Taehyung, right?

“Mr. Jeon, I can assure you that everything shared in sessions, be it through calls or in person, stay with me and me alone. We follow a very strict patient confidentiality law, and I’d never even think about breaking it. Not only because of your status, but because I value my patients and their rights too much to do so. Everyone is safe with me, you’re in good hands.” Yoongi adds when the silence extends for too long, as if able to tell what’s holding him back.

“I’m sure that you understand that I have a lot at stake right now. It’s not easy to put my trust onto a stranger, knowing just how easy it is to expose someone.”

“You have my word, Mr. Jeon. I understand how hard it might be to trust me, so we can just go step by step, and slowly build some trust here. What do you say?”

“I say that I don’t know if I’m even ready and willing to do this already.” Jungkook admits. “I decided to call, but that still doesn't mean that I’m ready for whatever comes after this call. I don’t like this shit. I don’t.”

“I have a few suggestions… Would you like to hear them?” the athlete takes a moment to consider it, before humming. “Write down anything that you’d like to share with me, or someone. Your feelings, your thoughts, whatever it might be. Then, whenever you’re ready, call me and we’ll either meet up, or we’ll have a nice video-call, and you’ll share those with me.”

“Write it down?” Jungkook chuckles. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” the doctor confirms. “Do we have ourselves a deal? Write it down, and call me when you’re ready for it. You know that you have me here waiting whenever that moment comes. Deal?”

Jungkook nods to himself, tugging on his piercing. “Ok, yeah, that’s ok. I’ll do that, and call when I feel like sharing.” he decides, nodding again. “How much do I owe you for this call…?” he asks.

“Oh, consider it a gift. We’ll talk about that once you call me again.” Yoongi says with an audible smile in his voice. “I’ll patiently wait for your call, Mr. Jeon.”

“Yeah… We’ll see about that.”

Chapter Text

Jungkook wakes up with the sun bothering his eyes, which never happens given that his blinds have always been thoroughly programmed, and it makes him turn around to face the floor-to-ceiling windows of his room.

He lets out a groan upon seeing his mother there, manually opening the blinds to let the sunlight creep into the bedroom. “Mom, what the hell…” he mumbles, covering his head. “Close those, they open by themselves.” he complains, voice muffled.

“I know, but I wanted to wake you up.” the woman shrugs. “Get up, son. I asked Mrs. Choi to prepare your breakfast earlier, and we’ll have it together… Hurry on, because I’m starving!” she instructs.

Jungkook only hums, but then the sheets are pulled away from him, positively exposing him to the light again. “What are you even doing here?” he asks, annoyed, but he doesn’t like how aggressive his voice comes out — he doesn’t want to talk to his mother like that; not anymore. “I mean, I appreciate the visit, but you didn’t tell me that you were coming.”

The way that the small explanation adds a smile to his mother’s face makes him feel something close to relief.

“I’m happy to hear that you enjoy my presence, I don’t think that you’ve ever said that.” she smiles, walking up to the bed to sit down by his side and, God, those words feel like a punch to the gut. He had never realized just how much of an idiot he was to his mother before it was pointed out to him. Taehyung be damned.

“Well, I do.” Jungkook mumbles, eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “I do appreciate it when you come over. Especially now with all of this.” he looks down, tugging on his lip ring. “But, uhm, why’d you come so suddenly? You didn’t tell me…”

“Your dad has a meeting today, so I decided to come with him to the city, and take the opportunity to visit you.” she explains. “He said that he’ll come for dinner.”

“Alright, that’s fine.” he nods, clearing his throat. “I’ll put some clothes on, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Don’t sit on my bed in your outside clothes.” the athlete scolds, and she quickly stands up.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I forget how you feel about me being in your room.” she raises her hands in surrender, smiling.

“It’s not you, mom. I don’t like to have people here. No one. Staying for a minute or two, I’ll take it, but more is just out of the question. My bed isn’t even to be touched by anyone else.” he explains, but he’s already explained it so many times to her, that it feels as though she simply doesn’t want to understand.

“I’m really curious to see what you’re going to do when you get yourself a girlfriend.” his mother comments with a quiet laugh. “Will she sleep outside?”

“You know me too well to think that I’ll ever date.”

“Oh, c’mon, Kook. I want a grandchild.” she frowns.

If that had been said prior to the accident, if he wasn’t so numb inside, he would’ve laughed. “Me having a kid has got to be the funniest joke that you’ve ever told.”

His mother sighs, walking up to the door. “You better change your mind, because I want to be the grandma that pampers the kid.” she says. “Now, get dressed. I’ll wait in the kitchen. If you take too long. I’ll eat your pancakes.” it’s an empty threat, he knows.

Still, he throws the covers away from his body, stretching his back and his arms, before pulling the chair closer to carefully transfer himself.

He’s in nothing but a pair of boxers, and the easiest pick is a pair of sweatpants and a sweater. He quickly puts them on, not really wanting to make his mother wait for too long — and the idea of having pancakes does sound too appealing to pass on.

His mother is happily chatting with Mrs. Choi, his cook, by the time that he gets to the kitchen, and his pancakes are waiting, right next to a glass filled with a dark green liquid; a nice smoothie to start the day.

“Where is your nurse? I haven’t seen her yet.” his mother asks, taking a sip from her coffee as he comes to a stop in front of his plate. “Is she not coming in?”

“Oh, her. I didn’t see the need to have her anymore, so I fired her myself. She was a really good help at the start, but I can do everything alone now, and there was absolutely no reason for her to stay here, especially at night, and all. There are other people who need her, certainly far more than I do.” Jungkook explains. “Hey, good morning.” he greets the cook, trying to offer a little smile that doesn’t come through.

He can’t even smile.

“Good morning, Jungkookie.” she smiles, placing a small bottle of maple syrup in front of him — his nose twists in distaste at the unfamiliar packaging. “Yeah, it’s not the one that I usually buy… It was sold out. I reckon that this one is just as good.” she encourages.

“Yeah, surely…” he nods, grabbing the bottle to inspect it, and he fails to hide his surprise when he finds the label to have been ripped off. “What happened to this?”

“Hm?” the woman turns back to him. “Oh, yes. The other day, Mr. Kim came here before leaving, and he asked me to try and remove the nutritional tables from what I could, and so I’ve been doing it. I don’t know why he asked for that, he didn’t explain, but he seemed serious. I hope that it doesn’t bother you…?”

Jungkook looks back at the bottle with a light shake of the head. “Of course, he did…” he mumbles to himself. opening the cap. A little won’t hurt, he supposes. “No, it doesn’t bother me.” he assures. “Do you want some?”

“Oh, no, I’m eating mine with chocolate syrup.” his mother waves a dismissive hand. “I won’t offer some of mine, because I know that you’d never eat chocolate.”

“Yeah, no, I’m good with these. I’d eat them plain, but this maple syrup does look really appetizing.” he points to the plate with his fork, before taking a small initial piece to his mouth. It is good. “Tell me what you’ve been up to, mom.”

“Hm, buckle up.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook looks up from his lap when the door opens, and he quickly checks the watch on the wall. “You’re five whole minutes late.” he accuses, raising a brow.

“Hm, am I now?” Taehyung smiles, settling his bag by the table. “Your mom caught me on my way here, and I couldn’t possibly not stop for a minute. She’s very charming, your mom.” he teases.

“Don’t fucking say that about my mom—?!” Jungkook reprehends, almost horrified. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Jeez, it’s a compliment.” the doctor rolls his eyes. “I’m glad to see that, despite feeling the need to control exactly how many minutes I took to get here, you still decided to be a good boy and get ready by yourself.”

The athlete’s jaw slacks, his eyes blinking once as the elder puts on a pair of disposable gloves. He did, in fact, get ready while he waited — he discarded his sweats and got on the table, to speed up the process.

Still, “What in the world did you just call me?” he enquires, baffled. “How about you just don’t say anything else today? That’ll be amazing of you, really.”

“I’m cool with that.” Taehyung nods, grabbing the ointment that he always uses on Jungkook, and squirting some onto his right calf. He tickles his foot, as per usual, but it still grants him no reaction. “I actually have to talk, I have important questions to make.”

“I don’t want to hear them.”

“Well, that’s your problem.” Jungkook scoffs, laying his head down. “Did you massage your legs last night, as I told you to?” he asks. “Also, do you feel your feet?”

“Yes, I did massage my legs and my feet.” Taehyung can’t say that he’s not a little surprised by that. “I do feel my feet the same way that I feel my legs. I’d say that I feel your hands a lot more on my feet, though.”

“Yeah? Is that so?” he pinches one of Jungkook’s toes, eyeing him attentively to see his reaction.

“I felt that almost completely… On my legs, it still feels like there are multiple layers of clothing between your hand and my skin, but my toes— I feel it very well.”

“That’s amazing. We have to look out for the first toe moment, because that’s what will initiate the entire process of building up your strength back.”

“What if that doesn’t work…?” Jungkook whispers, eyes on the ceiling. “You promised me, Taehyung.”

“I know.” Taehyung nods. “It’ll happen. You’re, quite literally, a fighter. You’ll succeed, and I’m sure of it.” the athlete only nods, and he deems the conversation as over, so he simply starts the massage that precedes the usual stretching exercises.

The silence doesn’t last long, though.

The very same man that requested it, breaks it not even five minutes later. “Do you talk to your friend about me?” is the question that he settles for, and it takes Taehyung a moment to understand it. “Honestly.”

“I did tell Yoongi that you were my new patient. He’s my best friend, and I was really fucking annoyed with this, so I vented to him, yes.” Taehyung admits, and the other hums. “Why do you ask? Did you… call him?”

“I did.” Jungkook tugs on his lip ring, sighs. “He seemed decent enough, but how do I know that he won’t tell you everything that I tell him? Or, how do I know that he’ll keep it to himself? And is he your therapist? Because I don’t think that we should—”

“Hey, no.” Taehyung interrupts when he sees the stressed wrinkle deepening in the other’s forehead. “I have known him for years, and he’s never said a single thing about his patients. I can guarantee you that he’ll keep whatever information that you give him. About the second question: no, he’s not my therapist. As I told you, he’s a psychiatrist, he works with… well, seriously troubled people. He works at a mental hospital.”

“Huh? Do you think that I’m fucking crazy or some—”

“Shut up before you say something offensive.” he interrupts again. “Yoongi hears me out as a friend, and his advice always ends up sounding like a therapy session but, no, he’s not my therapist. He’s extremely professional, and good at what he does, so he was the first option that I thought of for you. I trust his work a lot, and I didn’t want to send you to just someone.”

Jungkook puckers his lips, processing it. He refuses to thank Taehyung now, but that does relax him; if he goes forward with therapy, he wants it to come from someone who knows what they’re doing.

“He opens exceptions here and there to have patients outside the hospital… You’re an exception now, because l asked him to take you in.” Taehyung lies. Partially. The first part is real, but he did not have to ask Yoongi for any favor. In fact, from day one, it was his friend the one asking to be given the opportunity.

Jungkook runs a tattooed hand across his face, groans to himself. “Thank you.” he says at last, and it makes his doctor laugh. Taehyung’s laugh is funny, but it positively confuses him. “What’s so funny?”

“Did that fucking hurt to say, Jeon?” he asks, snorting.

He rolls his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “A little, yes.” he nods. “I appreciate that you recommended someone who I can trust.”

“You’re welcome.” Taehyung shrugs, lips puckered as he waits to see whether Jungkook will share anything from the session or not, because Yoongi will never give him a single word about it. He’s curious, in a way.

Surprisingly, Jungkook does. “He told me to write things down whenever I feel like it’s something that I should tell him… And, like, I’ll share those with him once I decide to actually start having sessions.” he shares, eyes on the ceiling. “Nothing else.”

“Why are you telling me?” he asks, because he has to.

The question seems to catch Jungkook off guard. “I don’t know. Is that your way of saying that you don’t care? Fine, I’ll shut up.” he scowls, arms now crossed.

“I do care, I just didn’t think that you’d want to share such a thing with me. It surprised me, is all. Especially since I didn’t even ask you, you shared willingly.”

“Well— Yeah, I don’t know, I felt like telling you.”

Taehyung smiles. “Is that your way of saying that you trust me?” he turns his words against him, teasingly.

“Fuck off, I’m going to take a nap.”

“That wasn’t a no…!” he sing-songs.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I said fuck off.”

Jungkook sleeps through the rest of the session, which is sort of a blessing for his doctor. Taehyung is able to focus solely on his job while enjoying the low music coming from the speakers in the gym. The athlete sleeps with his lips pulled in a small pout, and he looks relaxed — there are no stress lines, which is new.

The alarm on his phone indicates the end of the session, and he promptly holds it closer to Jungkook’s ear until he moves, eyebrows scrunching up together as he starts to wake up. Only then does he turn the alarm off, as he doesn’t want to risk being unable to wake him up again — he’d just roll him off the table and to the floor.

Taehyung carefully stores all of his materials while the younger man puts his sweatpants and cozy socks back on, but halts when the door opens. His mother smiles.

“Is the session about to end?” she asks.

“It ended just a minute or two ago, yes.” Taehyung is the one to answer as Jungkook gets himself back on the wheelchair, and they both eye her questioningly.

“Mrs. Choi has just finished lunch, and I asked her to set up an extra plate.” she says, and Jungkook almost falls off his chair. “It’s lunch time, so I’m assuming that this is your last session before your break… And you can also just say no, I just thought that you could join us. You’ve been doing so much for my son that… yes.”

Taehyung blinks, gaping for a moment. “I don’t— I mean, thank you for the invite, and yes, my lunch break starts now, but I’d feel bad if I stayed for lunch.”

“Oh, there’s no reason to feel bad about it. I’m the one inviting you!” the woman smiles. “There’s always room and food for another one. Will you join us…?”

“Well, I don’t see why not, then…” he offers her a little smile, unsure of what to say. A homemade lunch does sound a hundred times better than something bought from the hospital cafeteria, but he’ll definitely feel as though he’s intruding. She didn’t give him any option.

“Perfect, I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.” she bows, leaving the room, and Taehyung can feel the heat on the back of his head from Jungkook’s stare.

“Why’d you say yes?!” the athlete stresses.

“I tried, didn’t you hear it? I was hoping you’d throw one of your tantrums and say that you didn’t want me to stay. That’d be a way out.” Taehyung shrugs. “Why didn’t you say anything? Are you sick, or something?”

“No, I—” Jungkook stops, and Taehyung only raises an eyebrow, waiting. “That shit that you said about me being rude to her really got in my head, ok? I’ve been trying to be a good son now, I couldn’t complain then.”

“Oh, that’s so cute.”

“Fuck right off, my God, do you ever just— not?” he groans, starting to push himself to the door, and the doctor picks up his bag with a laugh dying on his lips.

“You’re really fucking fun to antagonize.” Taehyung admits, following after him. “If I’m being honest, your cook’s food sounds way better than anything that I could get myself at the hospital, so… I guess that you’ll have to accept my presence for a little longer today.”

“About my cook.” Jungkook comes to an abrupt stop, and Taehyung walks around the chair to look at him, to make it easier. “Why are my labels suddenly gone?”

Taehyung smiles. “So that you can just enjoy your food.” he explains with a shrug, resuming his walk. “I didn’t tell her why I was asking her to remove them, so don’t you worry. The secret is safe with me.”

“What secret? I’m not hiding any—”

“You clearly have some issue there related to food, but I’m sure that you’ll end up going over that with your therapist when the time is right.” Taehyung turns back to give him a look and a little smile. “You’re very welcome, now hurry up, I’m quite hungry.” he gestures.

Jungkook opens his mouth to answer, but decides not to. He doesn’t even know what to say, so he simply follows the elder to the kitchen. His mother is already sitting on one of the chairs, and he takes the space on the table that is missing a chair but has a plate on. Taehyung sits between them, and Jungkook just watches the way that his mother immediately starts serving him with a large grin on her face.

Jungkook doesn’t remember the last time that she served him his food, and it makes him tsk while reaching for the pans to get some on his own plate.

Favoritism, he senses.

He quietly grabs his pair of chopsticks, starting to enjoy his food while keeping an eye on the other two. “So, Taehyung, do you have a girlfriend?” his mother asks, and he facepalms right away. “I have a few nieces that could really use a boyfriend, you know.”

“Mom, c’mon.” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes.

Taehyung chuckles. “It’s ok.” he assures him before turning to his mother. “I’m not looking for anyone right now, ma’am, but thank you for the trust.” he shuts the idea down, but Jungkook raises an eyebrow. The last time that they talked about it, Taehyung was single. Is he not single anymore? That’d explain the hickeys.

“Oh, that’s a shame…”

“Yeah, I—” he's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. “I’m sorry, let me just check it, it could be work…” he excuses as he reaches for the object and, not that he intended on spying, Jungkook does see the name of a girl on the screen, and the contact picture looks like it’s the same girl and Taehyung hugging. “I really do have to take this, I’m sorry. I won’t be long.”

“It’s ok, take your time, don’t worry.” the woman smiles and he gets up, leaving the kitchen in hurried steps. “I wonder what’s gotten into you.” she starts. “You’re very quiet there, what’s wrong? Are you feeling ok, son?”

“Yes, of course.” Jungkook nods. “I just don’t understand why you’d invite someone to eat at my house without asking me beforehand.” he admits.

“Oh. Does it bother you…?”

“No, but it would’ve if it was someone else. You have to ask me these things. This is my place, you can’t just invite people to eat over.” he scolds, frowning. “Ok?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry for not asking beforehand, but you told me that you two get along just fine now, so I thought that it’d be fine. I wouldn’t just invite anyone to join us… It’s your friend, and your doctor.”

“He’s not my friend, mom.” Jungkook mumbles, stuffing his mouth with some more food. Can they be considered friends now? Sure, they don’t fight anymore, at least not with the intent of actually being hurtful and rude, so are they friends?

In a way, maybe.

“Sure, right, ok.” she quietly laughs, nodding. “It’s a shame that he’s not looking for a girlfriend. One of your cousins would definitely be interested, if not all. He’s very handsome and kind.” his mother adds.

“The hell is up with everyone gravitating towards him in that sense? Even Jimin tried to give him his number. I don’t find this normal.” Jungkook puts his chopsticks down with a puzzled — and slightly bothered — look.

“Jiminie did? Oh, is Taehyung gay? Shoot, maybe I’ve made him uncomfortable with my question, then.”

“No, he likes both. I think. I don’t know.” he looks away again. “Doesn’t matter, does it? He’s not interested.”

“I suppose—”

“Hi, I’m back. Sorry for that…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung accepts the phone call once he’s out of the kitchen, taking the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

“Hi, Tae.” Miyun greets. “Are you at work? Did I catch you in a bad time, by any chance? I can call you later.”

“No, I was just starting lunch.” he decides to avoid mentioning that he’s in Jungkook’s house, solely because he knows that Miyun would overreact, and he doesn’t want to deal with that conversation now.

“Would you like me to call you after lunch?”

“Nope, just tell me why you’re calling all of a sudden.”

“Well, you see…” Miyun drags. “I was wondering if you have anything planned with Jiwoon for tonight…?”

Taehyung tilts his head, thinking for a moment. “For tonight? No, we don’t have anything specific prepared, why do you ask? Am I forgetting anything—? Did we plan something for today? I didn’t see anything in my schedule…”

“Oh, no, no.” Miyun rushes. “We didn’t plan anything, but I was thinking about preparing some snacks, and stuff, and just have a movie night with him. Can I keep him for the night…?” she asks, and Taehyung can hear the slightest hesitation in her voice.

He’s never said no, and he never will, but she still asks every time.

“Of course, you can. I just have one question.”

“What is it?”

“Why am I not being invited?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I thought that, maybe, you’d want to use the opportunity to go out, since it’s Friday, and all. If that’s not what you want to do, then you know damn well that you don’t need an invitation to join us… Besides, I have something to tell you.” she giggles.

“Oh? You do? What about?”

“I have a date planned… with Jiwoon’s teacher, yes. I will finally stop giving you the eyes, are you happy and proud of me?” that makes Taehyung laugh.

“Very much, yes. I’ll hear all about it later, then. Count me in for movie night.” he decides. “I have to go now.”

“Alright, thanks for picking up. Later…”

“Later, bye.” Taehyung ends the call, already storing his phone back in his pocket as he walks back to the kitchen. “Hi. I’m back. Sorry for that…” he apologizes once again, sitting back down between the two.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” the woman rushes. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, just making some plans for tonight.” he dismisses. “Did I interrupt something?” he has to ask, suspicious of the sudden silence once he entered.

“Nope.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“I was just telling my Jungkookie about his cousins, nothing much.” she shrugs, but then abruptly puts her chopsticks down, facing Taehyung better. “I was meant to show this only to him, but since you’re here, I’m sure that you’ll enjoy it as well… I found a whole bunch of baby and childhood pictures at home. I’ll go get them!”

“Mom—”

“Oh, that’s lovely, yes.” Taehyung perks up, nodding.

Jungkook gapes, horrified, but he doesn’t have the time to say anything about it as she’s already out of the room. “If you actually look at any of the pictures, I’ll fucking kill you, right here, right now. A chopstick right in your throat.” he threatens, pointing it.

“Don’t be so serious, Jungkookie.” he teases, using the same nickname that his mother used just moments prior, and Jungkook actually makes a move to either poke him with the chopstick, or to put him out of it for good — he doesn’t even know which one it would be.

Nonetheless, he’s thankful for his fast reflexes for making it possible for him to grab the athlete’s wrist just in time. It makes him snort, soon to turn into a laugh when Jungkook groans and pulls his hand free.

“Why do you enjoy embarrassing me, huh?”

“Is that what you think that my goal is?” Taehyung tilts his head, and Jungkook’s glare doesn’t soften. “I don’t take the piss to embarrass you, Jeon. If you were in my shoes months back, you’d see the huge difference in yourself from then and now. I tease you, because it clearly has been doing something right. You’re less serious, you’re definitely more comfortable, and you’re maturing — at least in my eyes. Loosen up, Jeon, I’m not the bad guy here, so stop trying to make me out to be one.” he shrugs, taking a sip from his drink.

“I’m not changing, Taehyung.” he argues. “I’m the same person that I was when you first showed up.”

“No, you’re not. Not in the slightest bit, actually.” Taehyung disagrees with a quiet chuckle. “Everyone can see that, and you can, too, if you stop to think about it, or do you believe that you from months ago would call Yoongi?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, but finds himself closing it right after, as he doesn’t have anything to say to disagree with Taehyung.

He silently thanks his mother for returning right in that instance, as it saves him from having to find something to say, but then his stomach drops and his eyes widen. He can’t possibly let Taehyung see his childhood pictures. It’s just not going to happen.

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  Jungkook’s mom just showed me a shit tone of childhood pics of him and omfg this is fucking gold
|  How did THAT weird ass kid turn into THAT
|  I may have taken a pic of one to set as his contact pic

|  ──  0% patience left Ï (@uncleyoongi)
|  ──  I fear I’m going to be hearing about you as an antagonist in his life…

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  He didn’t make fun of me at least… but what he said doesn’t make sense, does it?
|  I’m not changed, I’m the same guy that I’ve always been
|  “Would you have called Yoongi” no, and you also wouldn’t be sitting in my kitchen having lunch with my mom…
|  Am I changing? I don’t want to change…
|  Why does he always leave me fucking thinking, FUCK this

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Miyun returns from the kitchen with another bowl filled with popcorn, handing it over to their son before sitting under the blankets. Taehyung lifts his arm so that she can fit against his chest, just as she was previously.

They’re already on the second movie, and it’s already past Jiwoon’s bedtime, but tomorrow is Saturday and they’ll let him stay up until the movie ends.

Jiwoon turns to offer some popcorn to his parents, only to frown and lose his smile as he sees the position that they’re sitting in. Taehyung feels his stare. “What’s wrong, buddy?” he asks, flicking his chin.

“If you two don’t really like each other anymore, why are you always together like this?” the young boy asks, and the seriousness in his voice makes the two turn to him completely, pulling away from their cuddling position.

“Baby, I don’t know how to explain things to you…”

Taehyung gives her a little smile, reassuring. “You see, sometimes relationships don’t work, but the people involved still remain friends. Your mom and I will always be very good friends, even if we’re not together… and it’s time that you start to accept that.”

Miyun nods. “Yes, exactly. And mommy has met someone who she really, really likes, so uhm, we need to start preparing you for the unavoidable day that we start dating other people. Even then, we’ll be friends, and we’ll always be close. Not only because we like each other a lot, but also because of you.”

“So— So you’ll never be together?” the boy asks with a sad pout, grabbing a handful of popcorn to stuff his mouth with. His parents share a knowing look.

“Never is a word that can’t just be thrown around like that, but the likelihood is minimal.” Miyun is the one to answer, though aware of how Taehyung feels about it.

“Mhm, don’t count on it, kiddo.” Taehyung adds.

Jiwoon takes a moment to process it. “Does that mean that I’m going to have a new mom and a new dad…?”

“Uh—”

“No, no—”

“Listen…” Taehyung sits up. “No matter what happens, we’re your parents, and that will never change. There will be, however, new people in your life that you can accept as parental figures, or not.” he tries to explain, unsure of how to word it. “But your mom and I will make sure that whoever we bring into your life, will be someone who treats you well, and that you like.”

“Okay…” Jiwoon simply nods, putting the bowl down before getting up from the couch. “I’m sleepy, I’m going to sleep.” he informs, walking with his head down.

“Baby, wait—”

“Let him be.” Taehyung whispers to her, holding her hand when she tries to reach out to their son. “It’s tough for him to accept, but the more we sugarcoat this, the harder it will be for him to let go of the idea of us being together. We won’t ever date again, and we’ll definitely find new people… Let him process it.”

“I don’t like seeing him upset, is all.” Miyun sighs, reaching for the popcorn for herself. “You’re right, though, and it’s time that he starts coming to terms with this, especially because I’m going on a date in a few days, and I hope that it goes well…”

“Oh, about that. How did that happen?” Taehyung asks, stealing some of the popcorn. “Did he ask you out, or…?”

“You see, we exchanged numbers the other day, and he sent me a good morning text today, as per usual. I told him about my days off this week, and he asked me if I wanted to get some dinner together… I said yes.”

“I’m happy for you, I hope that it goes well.”

“Thanks, but… What about you? When are you finding someone to settle down with? You deserve it…”

“Uhm, I don’t know. I’m not actively looking for someone, I’m just enjoying my freedom as of now. If I end up meeting someone, I won’t push it away, but I’m not going to look for it, either.” Taehyung shrugs.

“My only concern is our Jiwoon. We have to be sure that these people treat him well.” she reminds, eating another handful as she looks back to the movie at last.

“I know, I know.” his son comes before anyone else, and he’d never be with someone who didn’t treat him like the precious boy that he is. It has to be someone who likes kids, and knows how to treat them right.

“Here, hold this.” Miyun hands over the bowl, pausing the movie. “I’ll go check on him, make sure that he’s brushed his teeth before going to bed… I also hope that he’s not crying, because it’ll break my heart.”

“Call me if he is, I’ll go there.”

“Sure will…” Taehyung quietly watches as she walks out of the living room, and he sighs. He knows how hard it is on their son, but he’s almost nine years old, and he’s old enough to understand that his parents aren’t together.

He can only hope to find someone good enough, because he’ll simply stay single if Jiwoon doesn’t approve of anyone. His boy comes first.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

It’s late at night when Jungkook takes his parents to the front door, and they both give him a tight hug before leaving. The house is silent now, as he’s finally alone, and he sighs to himself. He enjoys the quietness, especially after a hectic day.

He goes back to his bedroom, set on taking a quick bath before going to bed, but the iPad on his nightstand stops him in his tracks.

He placed it there, alongside the pen, so that he could write about his day, as his therapist — or possible future therapist — assigned him to do, and he completely forgot to write anything down today.

Granted, he never had an alone moment with his mother there, and then his father joined them, but still.

Rolling his chair closer to the bed, he grabs the device and places it on his lap. He unlocks it, frowning at the background picture: one captured by some photographer at one of his fights, and he’s standing in the ring with the referee holding his hand up to announce him as the winner.

In the picture, he’s smiling, smug, and it makes him incredibly sad.

With a defeated sigh, he opens the notes and clicks on the small symbol to create a new one. He starts by writing the date down on the first line, and then stares at it, unsure of what to write. What is he supposed to write down?

What are the important things to write?

He tugs on his lip ring, twirling with the pen in his hand while looking down at the screen that ends up turning black from inactivity. It makes him have to unlock it again, only to continue staring, confused.

A ping from his texts makes him open the messaging application, but he doesn’t open the one that he’s just received, no. Instead, he stares at another chat, sure to be able to find answers and possible help there.

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Taehyung?  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  What do you want

Me  |
Jesus, be ruder, why won’t you.  |
I don’t want anything anymore.  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  I’m joking, just say it. What’s wrong?

Me  |
What am I supposed to write?  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  Sorry?
|  Oh, is this what Yoongi told you to do?
|  Hm, I’m not sure. I suppose that you should pretty much use it to journal your days…?
|  Write about what happened, and about moments that may have created any sort of emotion in you: either positive or negative, you know? Be honest in it, and act like you’re saying those words to someone

Me  |
Ok. Thanks.  |

Jungkook goes back to his notes, fixing his position to take it seriously, hand ready to start writing down. He doesn’t quite know what in his day was important, or what emotion it provoked in him, but at least he knows what topics to focus on now.

He proceeds to write about waking up to his mother visiting, and how he’s trying to be a better son, a better person for her and his father. It’s weird, it is. He’s always been so certain of everything, never once felt the smallest ounce of guilt, never cared if his bold honesty hurt whenever heard him. Not anymore.

He’ll never be the cause of his mother’s sadness ever again, as long as he can prevent it. It took him long to realize just how much of an idiot he has been to his parents, who have only supported him from day one, but it's never too late to change.

What emotion did that make him feel, though?

Relief, perhaps. Happiness, in a way. He hasn’t truly been happy in too long, even before the accident, so he can’t say that he was happy, but he was relieved.

His mother’s smile is relieving when he’s the cause.

He hesitates before writing about what he found out at breakfast, but the pen is dragging across the screen before he realizes it. He writes about the labels, and how it’s not the first time that Taehyung does something like that — like he’s telling someone.

Now, what emotion did he feel? Embarrassment, for sure, because his cook caught him off guard, but again, relief, in some sort of way. He doesn’t know if relief that he could just enjoy breakfast without overthinking, or relief that there’s someone who knows about the small fight that he has with food.

The thought alone of finding anything coming from his physiotherapist relieving without it being related to his physical improvement is enough for him to store the pen in the iPad case and close it, put it away.

His bath sounds ideal again.

He doesn’t like thinking, because it just becomes too much and he gets confused, and overthinking is something too easy to fall into — which he hates.

He never had time to think before, always on the run, working and working some more, but now he’s pretty much always alone with his thoughts, and he’s never thought so much about the smallest things, and about himself. He never thought twice about what he said or believed, but now he finds himself overthinking all of it after the conversations, or after disagreements.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s changing, when he’s thinking so much.

And he blames Taehyung for that.

If he had landed literally anyone else as his physiotherapist, he’d just intimidate them at the start as he tried to do with Taehyung, and they’d never talk to him again, and would never get him where he is now.

But if he thinks about it some more, if it had been someone else, he probably wouldn’t have accepted their help, and would still be unable to feel anything on his legs and feet. That makes him groan, shove his face down on the mattress — not the pillow, as he’s still sitting on his chair, and it's too far away.

The more he thinks, the less he wants to do so.

He really wants his warm bath now, with ambient music and a few lit candles, and maybe that’ll be relaxing enough to shut his brain off for a while. And hopefully make him sleepy enough to send him right to bed once he’s done washing himself. That’d be ideal. His thoughts always end up on the same subject, the same name, and he’d like it to stop, so a bath it is, and he’ll think about writing the next day or so.

He’s done for today

Chapter Text

Jungkook furrows his brows as he hears the door opening — it’s only been thirty minutes since he sent Jimin a text inviting him to his house out of boredom, and he’s surprised to see him so soon. He expected the wait to be longer.

“Make room for me.” Jimin says as soon as he enters the spare bedroom, already kicking his slippers to leave them by the door. Jungkook drags himself to the side, leaving enough space for his friend.

“You got here way too fast.” he notes. “I get uneasy about driving now, were you careful? We really don't need another career fucking ending because of a car.”

“Your career isn’t over, it’s on a pause.” Jimin corrects, climbing onto the bed. “But, yes, I drove very carefully on my way here. Yugyeom is the one that you should be having that conversation with, I barely let myself go over the speed limit. You don’t have to worry about my driving.”

Jungkook sighs, fixing the covers over them.

“But, hey, are you going to tell me why you asked me to come over? I didn’t buy the ‘I’m bored’ excuse.” his friend asks, curious, and he tilts his head.

“It wasn’t an excuse, though. I was bored, and I decided to text you to know whether you were home or not… I know that I’m rarely the one to invite anyone in, but is it that odd that I did?” Jungkook frowns, not quite understanding why it’s so hard to believe that he was just bored, and wanted company.

“Well, in all of the years that I’ve known you, you’ve never really texted asking us to come to you. We just showed up on our own, or you’d show up without warning. I can’t say that I’m not content with the invitation, because I really am… I just thought that there was something else there, that you weren’t telling me about." Jimin explains.

“You can still show up unannounced, too.”

“Can I?”

“Why do you look surprised?”

The model looks around, as if looking for the right words to use. “You kept us away for a long time after the accident and, even after we got to know about what happened, I still felt as though you didn’t want us around you much… so l kept my distance. I only come here when I’m invited to do so. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, this is already hard enough…”

“You’re right, I was — and am — embarrassed about all of this shit, but you already know about what happened, so… what the fuck is there to hide?” Jungkook sighs. “You can come over whenever you want to. Just know that I always have my physiotherapy sessions in the morning, so you might walk in on one of them.”

“I only hear two good things.”

“Huh?”

“Visiting my friend and seeing that man? That’s a very good morning.” Jimin says with a little mischievous smirk, and Jungkook presses his lips together in a thin unimpressed line. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just still fucking hung-up on the fact that he told me that he didn’t want my number. Who does that? He’s so attractive.”

“The fact that he rejected you is attractive?” Jungkook tries to comprehend, eyebrows scrunched, confused.

“Yes.” Jimin shrugs. “You know… When we can’t have something, it becomes even more tempting, kind of thing. He’s not interested, so I have to accept that. I’ll live.”

“You guys are weird.” the athlete mumbles, closing his eyes as he scoots lower on the bed to, maybe, fall asleep if lucky. Judging by the bags under Jimin’s eyes, his friend is in need of a nap, just as much.

“I—”

“Hello!” they both look up to the door, both equally surprised to see Yugyeom with sweaty hair, and a large grin plastered on his face; he has a sports bag on his shoulder, and a sweatband on his forehead. “I cannot believe that I wasn’t invited to this meeting, you guys fucking suck.” he insults, kicking his shoes off.

Jungkook checks the time on his phone. “You’re always training at this time in the morning, that’s why I only texted Jimin.” he explains. “Judging by the way that you look, you were practicing. You’re dripping.”

“Oh, yes, I was at the gym when I saw Jiminie’s tweet about visiting you. I finished the set before coming here to join you two. Do you mind if I take a shower? I have spare clothes, I don’t need to steal anything from you… Only water and shower products.”

“No, of course, go ahead.” Jungkook shakes his head, gesturing to the attached bathroom; he made sure that even the spare rooms would have private rooms when the house was built from the ground.

“I’ll be back in ten.” Yugyeom throws them a little kiss, leaving for the bathroom.

Jimin cackles. “I should’ve known that he’d show up. He liked my tweet, but didn’t say anything…” he acknowledges. “I want to tell you something, but you have to promise not to be angry at me for it.” Jungkook gives him a look.

“Ok, go on.” he encourages, though apprehensive.

“You’re nicer.” Jungkook makes a low sound of confusion, and Jimin sits up straighter. “You would’ve immediately told him not to let his sweat drip on your fucking floor, and probably would’ve said that you didn’t have to invite him, to begin with, when he said that. I’m telling you, you wouldn’t even invite me to come over, or freaking promise not to be angry just now. You’re nicer, you’re calmer, and I like it.”

“I’m not nicer, I’m the same.” he tsks, closing his eyes again. His mother said the same thing, Taehyung never hesitates to point out how different he is lately, and he’d rather not talk about it again, if he can avoid it.

“No, you’re not the same… and that’s good. We learn by living, you know? I don’t know if it was the accident, or new people that said accident brought to your life, but you’re different. A nice kind of difference.”

Jungkook just hums, unwilling to carry on such a conversation. He’s aware that he’s changed significantly. He can tell. He’s not as easily irritated by everything and anything, he’s not angry for most of his days, and he feels calmer. His life was hectic for years, barely having time to stop, slow down, so it’s kind of nice to feel calmer, to have the opportunity to relax.

Jimin smiles, eyeing him knowingly. There isn’t much that Jungkook can hide from him, he knows him too well by now. “Anyhow…” he says, gently tapping Jungkook’s shoulder. “Shall we watch a movie when he comes back? I’ll most probably fall asleep, though. I woke up early as heck for the shoot… If you don’t mind that, then a movie would be cool. Or, you know, just some—”

“A movie would be fine. I’ll probably fall asleep, too, so don’t worry… and we both know how Yug complains, but he’s the first to go out whenever we watch something together. He’s like a fucking dad, or something.”

The model laughs. “Yeah, it’s settled, then.”

“Mhm.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

“C’mon, go in.” Taehyung holds the door open, his son quickly skipping into the diner with a smile, already spotting his uncle Yoongi sitting in one of the booths.

Taehyung follows after him, watching the young boy hugging his best friend as tightly as he possibly can. “You’re getting too strong, you almost crushed my ribs just now.” Yoongi teases, faking a wince. “Hey, man.”

“Hey.” he greets, sitting down across from them. “He really is getting strong, though. I don’t know what his mom has been feeding him behind my back, but I’m starting to grow suspicious.” Taehyung squints, playful.

“I’m getting strong so that I can be the new Kookie.”

“Oh, that’s an amazing idea.” Yoongi turns to him, pinching Jiwoon’s arm lightly when the boy tries to show off his muscles as he sees on television. “You—”

“Right—!” Taehyung stops them before it can go on for any longer. “How about we order our food? I’m hungry.”

“Dad still doesn’t like Kookie…” Jiwoon tries to whisper, but it’s loud enough for his father to hear. “I don’t know why. He even got me his signature the other day…”

Yoongi gasps, fixing him with an offended glare. “You got him an autograph, but not me?!” he asks, incredulous. “I thought that you liked me, how come this little thing comes before me?” he points at the kid, obviously joking, and Jiwoon giggles.

“Dad has known me the longest, that’s why.”

“This is unfair. I want an autograph, too.”

“Yoongi, you’ve literally talked to him already… and stop this, you look like a fucking fangirl going after an idol.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, lifting his arm to get the attention of one of the servers. The woman gives him a little nod.

“Being a fangirl isn’t embarrassing, so you’ve failed to insult me.” Yoongi shrugs with a smug smile. “And, yes, we’ve spoken on the phone, but I’d very much like to have something that he touched, you know? I really like the guy.”

“Just shut your mouth.” he points, turning to the waitress when she stops by his side, greeting them with a smile. “Hi, could I please get a hamburger and fries?” Jiwoon points to himself. “Two, actually. With two Sprites to go with that, please.”

“Just make it three.” Yoongi decides.

“Lovely, I’ll bring it in a second.” she bows, turning on her heels to leave, taking the menus with her.

“Dad, I need to pee. I’m going to the bathroom.” Jiwoon informs as he gets up, and Taehyung makes sure to turn to face the bathroom door so that he can keep an eye on him. One can never be too careful.

“How is he?” Yoongi asks. “Has there been any progress? He hasn’t called me yet, so I haven’t had the chance to ask him anything.” he adds, and Taehyung realizes just who they’re talking about.

“He’s actually surprising me. I’ve tried to be positive from the start, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think that he had totally fucking ruined his chances by taking so long to start his sessions. I’m once again positive, and it’s genuine now, I’m not trying to just convince him and myself.” Taehyung shares with a proud smile.

“Oh? That’s amazing news, what the hell. What’s going on with him? What happened for you to be positive again?”

“He can feel my hands on his legs and feet now when I’m massaging him… He even feels the difference in temperature when he’s taking a bath. It’s really fucking amazing, Yoongi. That’s the first step of many, but it shows healing, shows improvement. Next thing we know, he’ll be moving his toes and, with work, his legs and who fucking knows, standing. I can’t wait to see just how much he’ll be able to heal. I promised him that he’ll walk, so he better. I don’t want to fail him.”

“Tae, you know that you can’t promise shit like that…”

“I know. I know that, but I’m positive about this.”

Yoongi nods, taking a moment. “Well, hearing about what you’ve just told me, I’m now just as positive. Him being able to feel your hands is really fucking good. He must be thrilled with all of that happening, huh?”

“He doesn’t voice his emotions much, but I can tell that he’s really happy… as he should be. I’ve only seen him smile three or four times, and they were all related to his improvement.” Taehyung recalls. “He—”

“I’m back.” Jiwoon smiles, sitting back down.

Taehyung only gives his friend a look, enough for him to know not to continue the conversation that they were having. As much trust as he has in his son, he can never be entirely sure that he wouldn’t share at school something that he’s heard at home.

“Alright, young man, tell me what you’ve been up to at school.” Yoongi swiftly changes the topic, their telepathy working just right. “Many pranks?”

“No, I’m a well-behaved boy.”

Taehyung smiles. “You sure are.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

It’s later that same day, a little past midnight, that a few knocks on his door wake Taehyung up from his deep sleep. The door opens just as he lifts his head, and he’s puzzled to see his son standing there.

“What’s wrong, bud?” he asks.

“Dad, I’m scared…” Jiwoon says through a pout.

“Oh? Of what?” Taehyung rubs his eyes, sitting up.

“Didn’t you hear? It’s thundering… a lot…” the boy mindlessly gestures to the windows, and Taehyung smiles, trying not to coo at him. “I was trying to be brave, but it’s really loud a-and scary…” he adds.

“You’re even braver for saying that you’re scared. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Taehyung offers, lifting his covers when Jiwoon nods three times.

“How are you not scared…?” he asks as he climbs onto the bed, lying right beside his father. “It’s so scary, dad, you’re too brave.” Taehyung laughs, quietly.

“I’m not scared, because there’s nothing to be scared of when we’re safely inside our home. The sound that it makes might be loud, and a little unsettling for some but it’s so beautiful to watch. You always hide your head under the pillow, that’s why you don’t think that it’s cool. You need to watch it, to know.”

“Can we watch it…?” Jiwoon asks, albeit nervously. “If you say that it’s cool, then I want to see it. I promise that I’ll wake up really easily tomorrow, I’ll get up on the first alarm.” he promises. “Can we watch it?”

Taehyung chuckles. “If you promise, then sure.” he pushes the covers away, standing up from the bed. Yeontan looks up from his spot on the floor, but doesn’t get up; too comfortable. Taehyung leads the way to the living room, as the balcony will make it easier to see the lightning in the sky — better than a window.

Jiwoon follows right behind him, fiddling with his own fingers as the sound of the heavy rain becomes louder after his father opens the sliding door.

“Come here.” Taehyung encourages, offering a hand for him to take, and he guides his son to stand in front of him, resting against his legs. “Watch the sky, and I’m sure that we’ll catch one soon. Don’t be scared.”

They’re both quietly watching the rain falling from the sky until another lightning strikes, and Jiwoon scoots even closer to his legs, for protection. The sound that follows a few seconds later is loud, even louder now that they’re outside, and Taehyung makes sure to caress the younger’s head when he hides it.

“Did you notice how you saw it a few seconds before you heard it?” Jiwoon nods, his face hidden in Taehyung’s stomach. “That means that it’s getting further away from us. If you saw it and heard it at the same time, then it’d be really close, but no. There’s nothing to fear, bud. It’s far from here. Don’t hide from the next one, just think that it’s so far away that it can’t do anything bad to us.”

“Okay…” Jiwoon gives in, turning back to the sky.

When lightning strikes, again, only a few seconds later, he does his best not to hide from it. Taehyung smiles, proud. “Isn’t it really cool?” he asks as soon as he’s able to hear it, trying to distract his son from it.

“It looks cool.” Jiwoon nods, still a little apprehensive, but not looking away from the sky, wanting to watch the next one. “Mom has a painting in the living room with thunder on it. I always tell her that it’s too scary to want it painted, but it’s cool. It’s pretty…”

“That’s right, it’s pretty.” Taehyung agrees. “Let’s go back to bed now, mister. You know not to be scared of it, so I’m sure that you’ll fall asleep in no time.” he pats his back, gesturing for him to walk back inside. Jiwoon smoothly leads the way back to his father’s bedroom. “You’re still going to sleep with me…?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. Duh.” the young boy jumps on the bed, getting under the sheets without wasting a second. “Is it embarrassing to be scared of thunder? All of my classmates hate it, so— so is it embarrassing?”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Taehyung sits beside him, ruffling his hair. “No fear is embarrassing, bud, it’s ok to be scared of stuff… as long as you try to overcome those fears, and don’t let them get too bad. You know, as you just did. You bravely faced it.”

“Yes. I’m brave.” Jiwoon grins.

“Besides… I know a very big and brave man that is also scared of thunder. He must have his head under his pillow right now, just as you had.” Taehyung reassures, recalling his conversation with Jungkook a couple of weeks prior, where they discussed what scares them. He remembers how embarrassed he was to be admitting such a thing.

“Really…?”

“Mhm. Now, lay down.” he helps his son cover himself, even going as far as tucking him in, before kissing the top of his head. “Good night, sleep well.”

“Night, dad…” Jiwoon closes his eyes, trying to tune out the ripping sounds of the thunder outside. It’s not scary, he forces himself to think. There’s nothing to be scared of, and it’s a pretty thing. Pretty, not scary.

He falls asleep quickly with that in mind.

On the other hand, Taehyung can’t even close his eyes. Now that he’s remembered that Jungkook’s also scared of thunder, he can’t stop picturing him with his head hidden under his pillow, or trying to blast music in his earbuds to tune out the lightning.

He feels bad. Might just be the fatherly instincts in him, but he doesn’t like thinking that the athlete might just be scared all on his own, too prideful to tell anyone.

Taehyung sighs, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. A text won’t hurt — even if he knows that a text back should not be expected. Jungkook will probably ignore it, might not even open the notification, but he’ll still try.

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Are you crying right now?  |

|  Jeon Jungkook
|  Why would I be crying?
|  Ah, I told you. No, I’m not crying

Me  |
I don’t believe you  |

|  Jeon Jungkook
|  You’re literally so annoying. I’m not crying

Me  |
I remembered you telling me that you’ re scared of thunder  |
l was checking in, see if you’re shaking in your boots or not  |

|  Jeon Jungkook
|  Were you worried about me?

Me  |
Yes, I was a little worried about you  |
I don’t like it when people are scared  |
And I know that your toxic masculinity ass would never tell anyone  |

|  Jeon Jungkook
|  I told you, didn’t I?
|  I’m scared, yes, I don’t like thunder

Me  |
Weakling. There’s nothing to be scared of  |

|  Jeon Jungkook
|  Ok, bye

Taehyung chuckles at the last text that he's received from the athlete, looking down at his kid. Jiwoon is fast asleep, not at all bothered by the loud sounds coming from the outside.

He carefully slips out of bed, unwilling to wake him up again, and takes his phone on the way out of the room. A cup of tea sounds really inviting when he should already be sleeping, and it’s cold, so he heads to the kitchen as he opens his contacts.

His finger stops at the ones started with ‘J’. and he clicks on one of them, pressing the call button, expecting it to go to voicemail.

He’s proven wrong, when it only beeps twice. “What?”

“Is that a polite way to pick up a call?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow, his hand stopped where it was going to open the cabinet to get himself a mug. “Be decent.”

“You just called me a pussy, in other words. You be decent.” Jungkook quickly argues. “Why the call?”

“Well, to be completely honest, I didn’t think that you were going to pick up. I’m pretty sure that you once said that you hate calls.” Taehyung recalls, picking one of the many mugs. “So, I’m flattered.”

There’s a moment of silence before he hears a sigh that really makes him want to laugh. “You have such a talent to annoy me.” that does make Taehyung laugh, albeit quietly, aware that Jiwoon is sleeping in his bedroom.

“Thanks.” he teases. “In all seriousness… Are you ok?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Stop with that bullshit, Jesus. Stop playing the tough guy act with me, I’m not buying it, and you should’ve known that already. I repeat, are you ok?” Taehyung asks again, filling the kettle with water to heat up.

“I am tough, though.” Jungkook mumbles. “But— Yeah, I was just trying not to listen to it. The sound that it makes is what fucking bothers me, it’s so damn loud.”

“You’re in the comfort of your house, it can’t do you any harm. It’s really cool to watch it striking in the sky, you’re missing out.” Taehyung defends, placing a single packet of tea in the mug, still waiting for the kettle to finish heating up his water. “It’s a show.”

“I’ve always avoided even looking at it…” Jungkook admits, and Taehyung hums, filling up the mug. “What are you doing over there?” he asks, curious about the sounds that he can hear in the back.

“I was making some tea. I was asleep, so I’m a little tired. I woke up because of the storm.” Taehyung lies, taking his mug back to the living room, and opening the sliding door so that he can sit on the chairs that he has on the balcony. He doesn’t know why he hides Jiwoon from the athlete, but it doesn’t feel right to tell him now.

He knows how much Jungkook dislikes kids, and it would definitely lead them to fight over a less tasteful comment from the athlete’s side, which he’d like to avoid.

Besides, he doesn’t have to tell Jungkook about it. He doesn’t have to reveal anything about his private life, for that matter. Especially something so important.

“Why’d you call, if you’re tired?”

“To check up on you.” Taehyung shrugs, taking a sip.

“Uhm, thank you.” Jungkook’s voice sounds quieter now, but Taehyung can hear how he appreciates the call. They can both hear another lighting strike, so the therapist is quick to think of something to say.

“What did you do today?” he asks, trying to distract him from the sounds. He can’t take Jungkook outside to make him see how pretty thunder is, so he’ll just serve as some distraction from it. “Anything interesting?”

“Why—?”

“Because I’m asking.” Taehyung shrugs, and Jungkook takes a moment; no one’s ever asked him about his day like that, he’s never allowed anyone close enough to a point where they feel like they can even ask, and his friends know that he doesn’t like talking or sharing anything, so this is a first. He could just hang up.

However, “Jimin and Yugyeom came by in the morning, and stayed pretty much the whole day. It was nice.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear, actually. I’m glad that you’re allowing your friends to get close to you again. I remember a time when you wanted to keep them as far away as possible.” Jungkook looks down, nodding to himself.

“They know about what happened, so… there’s no reason to keep them away.” he explains, tugging on his lip ring as he contemplates what to say next. “What, uhm, what did you do today?” he turns it around.

“Me? Oh, I had lunch with Yoongi, and then met up with some friends in the afternoon. You know, enjoying my day off as much as possible. It wasn’t that exciting.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me an exciting story, I asked about your day.” Jungkook says, and Taehyung can’t say that it doesn’t surprise him a little.

“Well, then that was it.” Taehyung takes another sip. “I thought that your whole house would be, like, soundproof and shit. How come you hear the thunder?”

“It is soundproof. I don’t hear it as loud as I would in any other house… but I still do.” he explains with his lips pulled together in a small pout. “I didn’t want it to be completely soundproof because I like the rain.”

“Oh, you do? I love the sound of the rain, too.”

“It’s relaxing.” Jungkook adds.

Taehyung shifts a little on his chair to be more comfortable. “You know, I never exercise, but I used to always go for a run only when it was pouring outside.”

“Are you ok? I mean, mentally.”

The therapist cackles. “Jeon Jungkook making a joke?”

“I’m a man of many talents.” Jungkook says with an audible smile, which is more surprising than anything else. “My humor is good, I just like being serious.”

“Why? Isn’t it so much better to be comfortable?”

“Because. I have an image to keep.” he shrugs. “No one would take me seriously in my line of work if I was any different. I learned that early on in my career.”

“Is that why you always come off as an asshole to everyone? To be taken seriously?” he asks.

“I am an asshole.” Jungkook corrects. “l just— I didn’t use to be. I became an asshole to be taken seriously.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen a little, surprised with the information that the athlete is giving him willingly. He always thought that Jungkook was simply a bad person, with wrong beliefs and even worse behaviors.

He didn’t think that there was a Jungkook before fame.

“I guarantee you that a lot of people would prefer if you kept that up only when you’re working. You can be two separate people. The Jungkook that deals with his family and friends doesn’t and shouldn’t have to be the same one punching people for a living.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Jungkook sighs again. “Can we talk about something else?” he requests, and Taehyung’s surprised that the other even wants to continue talking to him. He supposes that he’s being helpful when it comes to distracting him from the storm still striking outside.

He takes another sip from his tea, “Yeah, we can.”

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  Tell me why it’s 4 a-fucking-m and I’m only now going to bed

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  That was… nice
|  We talked for over 3 hours, that’s fucking insanity. I hate phone calls and I never have conversations longer than 10 minutes. How’d we talk for so long?

Chapter Text

It’s only ten in the morning and Taehyung is already on his third espresso. Waking up was a pain, and he was extremely thankful that Jiwoon stayed the night in his bed, because he didn’t even hear his own alarm.

Hadn’t it been his son, they would’ve stayed in bed.

He’s had one session so far, and it was a nightmare.

Having to pretty much carry heavy patients is something that he’s already grown used to, so much so that his arms have doubled in size since he started working at the hospital, but mix heavy patients with a sleepless night, and we have a Taehyung struggling to find his physical strength — even after three coffees.

He sighs, frustrated, making his way to the staff room with his eyes barely open. There’s a small window of time before he has to leave for Jungkook’s house, so maybe he can try to close his eyes for a moment.

The nurses and doctors all greet him as he walks past them in the halls, him being quite familiar with pretty much everyone — he’s too friendly not to.

He’s not surprised to find both Namjoon and Seokjin in the room, each holding a mug with what he already knows to be tea and coffee, respectively, and he almost drags himself to their table.

“Hey.” Taehyung greets, plopping himself.

“Judging by your morning tweets and those dark eyes, I’m guessing that someone had a fun night.” Seokjin teases, wiggling one of his eyebrows.

Taehyung groans. “I wish.” he rubs his eyes, staring at them with sleep weighing down his features. “Jiwoon woke me up because of the thunder, so we ended up watching the storm for a little. I don’t think that he’s scared anymore, so it was a successful experiment.”

“Huh, and you’re this tired from watching the storm ‘for a little’?” Namjoon chuckles, sipping from his tea. “Age is catching up to you, I see.”

“The fuck do you mean age, I’m twenty-five.” Taehyung half-mumbles, laying his head down on his arms, resting on the table. “And you’re older than me, man.”

“You’re making fair points.” Namjoon nods.

“Was that really the only thing keeping you up last night? That’s so boring.” Seokjin tsks. “I mean, no offense to that little man, you know how much I love your kid, but I was expecting something much more interesting to come from this.” he quickly elaborates.

“I mean, it wasn’t the only thing.” he straightens up, realizing that he won’t be able to take a nap before he has to leave, and that’s good. He can’t be too sure that he wouldn’t feel even more tired if he slept for ten or fifteen minutes on that table, and nothing guarantees him that he would even wake up.

He’ll still have to choose a drive-through to visit to get himself yet another coffee on his way to Jungkook’s house, because he doesn’t even fully trust himself not to fall asleep during the session — standing up, yes.

“Well, then, start spilling.”

“Yeah, we’re waiting.”

His mouth parts, ready to start speaking, but he closes it again, thinking everything through. He can’t share anything that happens with Jungkook, but that only applies to his medical condition, and to his recovery.

A phone call deep in the night, completely unrelated to his condition or their sessions, shouldn’t be considered a secret, right? He can talk to his friends about his personal life, he should be able to speak about it.

“So…?”

“Jungkook isn’t a fan of storms, either, so we were on a call for a few hours.” Taehyung explains, shrugging. He didn’t want to be too direct about the athlete’s fear, so that seemed good enough. “At the start, it was just to distract him from the thunder, but then the hours passed without us noticing, and I didn’t sleep.”

“Hold on, I’m missing key information here. Didn’t you two fucking hate each other? Last time that we talked of his name, you foamed at the mouth.”

Taehyung hums. “Being forced to interact with each other has led us to… tolerating each other. We can talk without fighting. I mean, most of the time we don’t fight but, even when we do, it isn’t as ugly as it used to be.”

“Oh. That’s a relief, honestly… And I still think that you’re the freaking luckiest person ever to be in the position that you’re in, but anyway…” his coworker points, and Namjoon hums in agreement. “See.”

“He’s ok. As of lately, he’s not really the asshole that he was when we first met, so I have no reason to still hate him. When he tries to be nice, he’s ok.”

“This is some amazing character development.”

“Totally. Who would’ve thought?” Seokjin cackles. “I still have another question. What the hell did you talk about for hours? I can’t be on the phone for longer than ten minutes without wanting to cut the line and end it.”

“It was really just random shit. We talked about a show that he had just finished on Netflix, because I watched it a few months ago, so that ended up with us talking about movies and other shows… He explained his character in the one movie that he acted in. I don’t even remember some of the topics anymore, to be honest.” Taehyung recalls. “Oh, we also talked about some of the vacations that we’ve been on, because he’s seen so much of the world that I find it fascinating… We really just talked about random shit.”

“I can’t believe that you’re all best friends now.”

“We’re most definitely not. I don’t think that he’d even consider me a friend, to begin with.” he shakes his head with a quiet chuckle. “I do agree that it’s a surprise that we get along now, but we were pretty much forced to. You know, all things considered.”

“Still, friends or not… Do you think that you can get me an autograph, please? I’ll get you coffee every day for a month.” Seokjin almost begs, his hands together.

“You’re in no luck. I once asked him for an autograph for Jiwoon and he told me that he doesn’t give out signatures. He doesn’t do that and, even if he did, I wouldn’t ask him for an autograph again.” he decides that it’s safer not to mention that he still got the signed note, Jungkook having made an exception.

If he knew that it was for a kid, he probably wouldn’t have, and Taehyung hates to think about that.

“That fucking sucks.” his coworker complains.

Taehyung hums, tapping the table once before standing up. “Yes, very sad, very upsetting. I have to get going now, thank you for the company and the chat, it kept me from fucking dying or passing out.”

“You’re very welcome… Good luck with y—”

“—your best friend!” Seokjin teases.

“Shut up, really.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook removes his own sweatpants, watching as his physiotherapist puts on a pair of disposable gloves with his eyes threatening to close.

“You look sleepy. Did someone keep you up late?” he asks, not even noticing the little smile that takes over his lips, entertained. Taehyung does notice it; it’s so rare for the athlete to smile, it’s only happened two or three times and they were all due to his recovery.

He doesn’t mention it, though.

He knows that the smile would be gone as soon as he brought it up, and Jungkook needs to smile more.

“A man-baby kept me up because he’s scared of a little thunder, yes.” Taehyung settles for some teasing back, stepping closer to the table. “How are you not sleepy?”

“First of all, I’m not a baby.” Jungkook corrects with a roll of the eyes. “Secondly, I woke up just in time for this. Unlike you, I didn’t have to go to work, so I’m not looking like a decaying zombie.”

“Is that your way of saying that I look bad?”

Jungkook hums. “You said it, not me.”

“I always look great. Sleepy or not.” Taehyung says as he pinches the skin that he was just starting to massage, that being the side of his thigh.

“Hey—?! Did you just fucking pinch me?” he lifts himself up on his forearms, looking down at the little red mark on his skin. “You fucking did!”

“I always pinch you when you annoy me. My sleepy state, however, made me forget that you can feel it now.” Taehyung admits, shrugging. “But yes, I did.”

Jungkook’s jaw falls as he processes that. “Is that why I have random bruises sometimes?” he asks with a squint to his eyes, still holding himself in his arms.

“I may have been responsible for one or two of them. I also massaged you really fucking hard at the start when you pissed me off… since we’re airing out secrets and such.” the athlete blinks.

“I could sue you for that.”

“You have no proof.”

“I have cameras here.” Jungkook informs, and he feels the hands on his hands stopping as the elder turns around, eyes wandering around the corners and the ceilings to locate said cameras. He can see them now.

“I’m sure that we can come to an agreement here, rather than taking legal actions.” Taehyung says once he turns back around. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t get to say anything before a hand goes up to his chest to push him back down so that he’s no longer half-sitting. “We can surely settle this.”

“You can start by admitting that I’m not a baby.”

“I’m not going to lie, I’d rather get sued.” Taehyung shakes his head, his fingers already starting to work diligently on the massages that precede the stretching and the exercises, and Jungkook scoffs.

“Fine. Then just admit that we were so aggressive at the start because of you. It was your fault.”

That makes the therapist stop altogether. “You’re so full of shit. I’m not going to admit something that isn’t true, don’t even think about it. It was your fault. Sure, I hated you and didn’t help make anything better, but it was your arrogant ass that created the whole problem.”

“I don’t seem to agree. You should’ve just—”

“Just what? Kept my mouth shut and did everything that sir ordered me to do?” Taehyung tsks, focusing on his work. All in all, he’s thankful for the bickering today, because he’d be fighting sleep the whole time if the athlete took a nap. He wonders if Jungkook’s keeping a conversation on purpose, to help him stay awake.

“Oh? That would’ve been great, yes.” Jungkook nods.

“I will never give you the satisfaction of believing that you’ve won an argument or let you believe that you’re right when you’re not.” he promises, adding a little more ointment to his hands; he can’t even let his frustration out on the massages, given that Jungkook feels his hands more and more every day.

“You’re so ann—” Jungkook stops, eyes widening impossibly when he feels the fingers a little too close to his crotch area. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry?” Taehyung pauses. “I’m massaging you.”

“There?”

“What do you mean ‘there’? Your hip? I massage you from toe to hips every single day, are you alright?” he asks, but it only takes a look at his own hands to understand the confusion. “Ah, I see. Don’t worry, I’m not going to massage you there, that’s for you to do. I do always get my hands pretty much everywhere else, you just didn’t feel them as you do now.” he explains.

Jungkook gulps. He might just start hating the massages if he’s going to be counting sheep not to focus on the fingers that he’s prayed to feel.

“How is it, by the way? Any… improvement?”

“It.” the athlete parrots. “I don’t know. I can, uhm, feel my fingers the same way that I feel them on my legs and my feet, but I don’t touch it unless I’m taking a bath. I don’t want to face that disappointment again.”

“You’ve seen what persistence did to your legs. You didn’t start feeling everything that I do after one session, so how can you want to give up after trying to play with it once?” he says, trying not to cackle.

“Ok, don’t fucking say ‘play with it’, that’s just fucking nasty.” Jungkook immediately argues. “And, Taehyung, you don’t understand what it is like for one’s masculinity to try to ‘play with it’ and get nothing.”

“I’ve told you countless times, Jeon: your masculinity shouldn’t and isn’t defined by how your damn dick works, stop making yourself so little and shallow.”

“Maybe I am shallow.”

“No, you’re not. On the phone you said that you became an asshole because of this profession, and hopefully you’ll talk more about that one day but, for now, that’s enough for me to know that you’re not shallow. There’s a lot of Jungkook under the one that you put up for the media, and that’s what matters.”

Jungkook stares up at the ceiling, silent. Not even his parents acknowledge the Jungkook that he used to be anymore, have learned to accept that what he shows to the cameras is what he is, but that’s not true.

Well, not completely.

Taehyung, who’s known him for the littlest time amongst everyone that he knows, seems to understand him so much better. He doesn’t like to think about that. He doesn’t like to think in general.

“Just talk about something else…”

“As you wish, sir.” he recalls his previous words.

Jungkook groans. “You’re maddening.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Yoongi fixes his suit’s jacket, making sure that he looks both presentable and professional — just don’t look at his sweatpants that won’t be seen in the camera.

He was just finishing dinner when he received a surprising text from Jungkook requesting a call. The shock took a moment to let him type an answer but, when he did, he explained that he likes being able to see his patients’ faces, and they agreed to a video-call.

He has never finished dinner so quickly.

Now, he’s sitting in front of his laptop, waiting for the call to come through. He didn’t want to be the one calling, letting the athlete do so when he’s ready.

“Fuck—” he clears his throat when the ringtone startles him, and only then does he press the button to accept it. The screen changes from black to Jungkook’s face, and his own in one of the corners. “Oh, my God.”

“Come again?”

“Nothing, I was talking to myself.” Yoongi straightens up, uncapping the pen sitting atop a notepad that he placed on the table earlier. “Good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

“You can just call me Jungkook.” he corrects.

“Alright, noted.” the therapist nods. “The first few sessions are usually focused on my patients’ backgrounds so that I can try to understand and piece together why we’re here. If you don’t mind recalling your past from the beginning, then we should start there.” Yoongi instructs, offering a warm smile. “I know that you must have written down some things, as I told you to, but we won’t get into them in the first session.”

“Why do we need to go there?” Jungkook frowns. “I don’t really like to talk about my life. Or myself, for that matter.” he crosses his arms. “So can we not?”

“Mr— Jungkook. Jungkook, it’s hard for me to comment or try to help anyone when I don’t know the full story. You can’t comment on a movie after you watch the last ten minutes. I understand that it must be hard for you to go back to some moments, but that’s why we’re here. You may start when you’re ready.”

“But—” the athlete stops, looking away from the screen. He should’ve known that the therapist would want to know his backstory, and there’s nothing that he wants to hide necessarily, but he doesn’t like talking about himself like that. He’s used to only giving the audience part of himself, the only aspects that he wants Jungkook, the boxer, to be known for.

“Go on.” Yoongi encourages.

“I grew up in Busan with my parents… and I was a weird kid, I suppose. I was hyperactive, always all over the place, from doctor to doctor and therapist to therapist to figure out how to be calmer.” he starts, toying with his lip ring as he watches the other man’s hand scribbling something down in the corner. “The only thing that succeeded at it, though, was sports. My parents signed me up for everything at once.”

“Is that how you started boxing?”

“Eventually, yes. My coach saw the potential and decided to work with me more intensively. I only stopped boxing for… seven months, since then.”

Yoongi hums. “Why’d you stop?” he asks, curious. He knows a lot about Jungkook’s career, simply because he is a fan, and he didn’t know about said break.

“I was in the army for seven months before deciding that I should really just focus on making a career out of boxing.” Jungkook shares. No one knows about it apart from his family and his two best friends. “That’s when I moved to Seoul, and started to—”

“Hold on, you’re going too quickly. Let’s go back to that sports phase that your parents started off for you. Were you upset that they did that?” Yoongi asks.

“No, I enjoyed it.” Jungkook tilts his head.

“How would you say your relationship with your parents was when you were younger, going through all of that, and later, moving here to start your career?”

“They were supportive of everything that I did. We grew apart when I moved here but, uhm, I’m working on that…” he decides not to mention just why he’s decided to work on their relationship now, unwilling to bring Taehyung’s name into it.

“Would you say that they’re the ones supporting you the most in this break that you’re taking? And now that we mention, if you don’t mind telling me why you’ve gone on a break, then it would help me understand.”

Yoongi knows what happened because Taehyung trusted him enough to tell him about it, but he can’t show that he knows, and he needs the athlete to tell him about it so that he can directly address it.

“Uhm… I had a car crash, and I came out of it with injuries to my spine, so I’m currently working with your friend so that I can walk again in the future.” Jungkook explains it as briefly as possible. “Don’t give me those sympathetic words or anything, because they’ll piss me off, so I’ll just move on and answer your question. My parents are very supportive, and so are my friends and my manager, but I don’t let them get too close, so I wouldn’t say that they’re my biggest support.”

“Then who would you say is, Jungkook?”

The athlete looks away, before sighing. “As painful as it is to admit, and as much as I don’t want to even think about it too much, I think that Taehyung might’ve been my biggest support since the accident.” Yoongi only gives him a little gesture for him to elaborate. “He doesn’t care about who I am, so he’s always seen me in a different light, and— and it’s a fact that I only started the physiotherapy sessions because he didn’t let me give up on it. Even now, he’s— This is really fucking weird, all things considered, but he understands me more than anyone else.” he adds.

“Thank you for being so honest.” Yoongi praises, writing all of the keywords down. “So, you two are friends now. Is that safe for me to assume?”

“I would say so, yes.” Jungkook nods.

“As beautiful as it is to know that you find support in him, why don’t you let others close to you in the same way? Maybe your parents would also want to be—”

“I don’t like showing vulnerability. I don’t want them to see it. I didn’t want Taehyung to see it, either, but he’s seen me in such lows that I don’t even care anymore.”

“And why do you dislike showing what you feel?” the question, despite being predictable, throws Jungkook off. “I can see from your reaction that you don’t want to answer it, so I think that it’s time to tell you a few things about these sessions: you can skip any questions that you don’t want to answer, you can ask me to change the topics, you can even bring up your own topics whenever you feel uncomfortable with the ones that I start. This is a safe place, Jungkook, I assure you.”

“Even if I avoid them, they’ll come back eventually.”

Yoongi chuckles. “Yes, that’s correct. I write down whatever questions that you choose to skip so that I can ask them again, in other contexts, until you’re comfortable enough to answer them.”

“Figured.” Jungkook nods, taking a moment. “Well, can we just talk about my childhood or some shit like that?”

“Are you comfortable telling me about it?”

“There’s nothing for a kid to hide.” he shrugs.

“Then you may go on.” Yoongi gestures, writing down the avoided question for another day. “Tell me about your childhood and upbringing as much as you’d like.”

TWITTER

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I didn’t say anything too personal again since we started talking about my childhood, but what I said before was already enough for a week or longer of honesty
|  That was decent though. I don’t even know the guy so I don’t care about what he thinks and it’s easier to talk when you don’t care about the reaction that it may provoke... I try not to care about anyone’s reactions, but I do
|  And about Taehyung… I hadn’t even thought about those words I said until they came out of my mouth. He really is the most stable support that I’ve had since the accident and, as much as he hated me, he didn’t let me give up

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung stops scrubbing the plate from dinner when he hears his phone ringing in the living room, and quickly wipes his hands to go after the sound. Jiwoon always brings him his phone whenever someone calls, but the boy is in his bedroom getting ready for bed.

He’s thankful for that when he picks it up and sees who the caller is. Jungkook’s name is on the screen, and he can just imagine his son freaking out and accepting the call just to say hello to someone that he likes so much.

Taehyung walks back to the kitchen, even closes the door, before picking up. “Hello?” he greets, confused.

“Are you busy?” Jungkook asks.

“Depends on the subject.” is what he says; he still has to wash the rest of the dishes and prepare Jiwoon’s lunchbox, and he did plan on going to bed early to compensate for the lack of sleep the night before.

“It’s a yes or no question.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Fine, I can not be busy for a little bit. What’s wrong, why are you calling?” he asks.

“I don’t know, to be honest.” Jungkook half-mumbles, and Taehyung is even more confused. “I mean, I know what happened for me to call, but I still don’t know why I’m calling.” he elaborates, clearly embarrassed.

“Hey, relax. I’m not going to make fun of you for calling.” Taehyung assures, quietly laughing. “Just tell me about it, I’m waiting and curious.”

“I called your friend.”

“My friend?”

“Yoongi.” Jungkook clarifies. “We had a session.” and, suddenly, Yoongi’s tweets and unwillingness to say anything about them makes a whole lot of sense.

“Why are you telling me?” he asks, first and foremost.

“Christ, fine, I can hang up if—”

“Stop that, don’t get defensive.” Taehyung interrupts, but keeps his voice low and calm; he doesn’t want to fight. “I’m asking because I wouldn’t expect you to call me to tell me about this, not because I don’t want to hear it. I’ve already told you that I don’t mind listening.”

Jungkook frowns on the other side. “I’m telling you because— I don’t know.” he admits, quietly. “I just felt like telling you about it… And because I wanted to thank you for something that I realized in the session.”

“Sorry? Thank me?” he blinks, sitting down. “Let me see if I heard correctly. You, Jeon Jungkook, want to thank me for something without being almost forced to do it? No, I don’t believe it. Did you get kidnapped and replaced this afternoon?” Taehyung teases.

“Congratulations, I won’t say anything anymore.”

That does make him laugh. “Stop that, I’m just kidding.”

“You’re making me regret ever calling, is what you’re doing right now.” Jungkook mumbles. “You’re awful.”

“I politely apologize for my previous words. Now, please, go on. I can tell that it’s something important to some extent, if you want to tell me about it after a therapy session. Also, I’m not making fun of you for wanting to thank me, I’m just, like, proud of you for it.”

Jungkook takes a moment. “Proud of me? Why?”

“Because this conversation would never have happened a few months ago. You’d never be calling me to say thank you for anything, Jungkook. The first time that you said thank you, I had to get those words out of you. I’m proud of you for how much you’ve grown and how much you’ve matured.”

“That’s kind of why I’m calling.”

“Go on, then. I’m listening.” he encourages.

“Yoongi asked me if my parents have been my biggest support since the accident and, uhm, I realized that no, it wasn’t them.” Jungkook starts, and Taehyung can hear in his voice just how shy he’s feeling. “I told him that my biggest support has been— you.”

“And do you mean it, or was it just what made sense?”

“Taehyung, do you really think that I’d sit there, in front of a therapist, and say that without meaning it? No, do you think that I’d call you and tell you, fucking embarrass myself here, if I didn’t mean it?”

“You’re not embarrassing yourself, I like it when you’re honest.” Taehyung rubs his eyes. “I just— I just realized that I have more responsibility than what I thought. I know that you listen to what I say most of the time, but I didn’t know that it had such importance to you. Especially at the start, when you couldn’t even look at me without getting angry.”

“Yeah, but… but I never would’ve started physiotherapy if it hadn’t been for you, you make me talk about shit that might make me uncomfortable but is doing a lot of good things to me… I’m even fixing my relationship with my parents because of those things that you said.” Jungkook sighs. “Thank you for that.”

“Jungkook, did you drink?”

“I don’t drink.” he can just sense the roll of the eyes from the other side. “I’m being nicer lately, according to every-fucking-one, and I wanted to be hones— Wait, are you fucking weirded out or something? Is that it?”

“No, you idiot, I’m not. I feel flattered knowing that you appreciate the work that I’ve been putting on you, because you were fucking insufferable at the start and made me want to quit my job multiple times.” Taehyung says, and the athlete makes a little affronted sound. “I also appreciate you thanking me, but you don’t have to. Just knowing that you’re changing for the better is good enough for me. Even if you don’t admit to it.”

“I’ve already accepted it—”

“Dad, can you—” Taehyung places his finger over his lips, shushing the younger boy, and mouthing a request for him to wait for just a minute.

“Hey, sorry for interrupting. I have to get something done quickly, is it ok if I call you back in ten minutes or so?” he says into the phone, and that positively ruins the mood; Jungkook does not want to continue being so vulnerable, and he’s already said thank you.

“No, it’s alright. We can just talk tomorrow.” he says.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook hums. “Alright, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well.” the athlete doesn’t really reciprocate those words before ending the call. “Ok, buddy, sorry about that, dad was talking to a friend.”

“It’s ok, I just wanted to ask you to tuck me in.”

“Let’s go do that, then. Lead the way.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook wakes up with the sound of the rain, and he sits up, closing the laptop that was still rolling a Netflix show that was so interesting that he fell asleep to it.

He reaches to turn on the small lamp on his bedside table, only to then pull his chair closer. Getting on it is already an easy task, and he makes his way to the floor-to-ceiling windows that he has in his room.

There are two small buttons on the wall to open the blinds, and he clicks one of them, waiting for it to go up all the way. The lights outside are pretty much all turned off, with some exceptions, but it’s enough to see the rain falling with vigor.

He sides open the window, leaving the room without thinking much about it. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers and some socks, but he can’t wait to have the cold drops of rain hitting his face.

His day wasn’t the best. Not that anything bad happened, but the session with his new therapist tired him, left him thinking a little too much — which is why he even called Taehyung, to begin with.

He can now understand how confused he must’ve been, not only with the sudden call, but also with the information that Jungkook shared all too willingly.

The weirdest part is how he didn’t even think about what he told Yoongi, it was just raw honesty.

Taehyung is reliable, he’s supportive, and he knows about parts of Jungkook that no one, not even his family, knows. Even so, he doesn’t judge; at least not with the intention of being rude, or putting him down.

The rain is colder on his skin than what he had imagined, but he tilts his head back, letting it soak his hair, his body. He’s had too much to think about today, and the cold is good, he believes.

His head is starting to turn into a mess.

He doesn’t like it.

The sounds of the rain hitting the pool water is relaxing, and he could stay there for hours, letting the drops cool down his head. He likes the rain.

There have been so many changes lately that it’s hard to catch up to all of it without feeling the overwhelming want to put a stop to all of his thoughts, and that may be why he’s watched every single thing that he found available on Netflix — at least most of it.

The change is good, he’s already accepted it, he’s conformed to it, but just how much is he going to change before he stops recognizing himself? He’s much more like the Jungkook before fame, and he can’t be sure that anyone that knows him now would want to still be around. He shouldn’t care, but he does.

People know the asshole side of him: that’s what gave him a career, and his friends came with it.

It’s hard to find the old Jungkook in him when he’s been pushed far down for years, but Taehyung has, somehow, managed to start getting him out.

He sighs, closing his eyes.

Again, he hates thinking, and Taehyung’s name is all that seems to loop in his mind lately.

He doesn’t understand anything anymore.

Chapter Text

When Jungkook’s usual alarm wakes him up to get him started with his day, he’s immediately overwhelmed by a horrid migraine. His head hurts in a way that he hasn’t felt since the last time that he got a hard punch on his face, and it feels almost pulsating.

Not only that, but his whole body hurts.

He feels weak all over.

As soon as he feels the need to sniff, he understands the situation. Maybe, just maybe, sitting under the cold rain for so long wasn’t the best decision, but he doesn’t remember the last time that he got sick.

It’s been years since he’s had a cold, so he didn’t expect to get like this over some rain. All that he wanted to get from it was a bit of clearance from his consuming thoughts the previous night, nothing more. 

His body feels heavy, and his legs even heavier when he tries to lift them up with little to no strength in his arms, so today it’s a challenge to get on his chair.

It hasn’t been hard to get on the chair in a long time, he’s already so familiar with it, that he can do it in mere seconds, but not today. Today, he struggles up until the point of being sat comfortably there.

He moves to his bathroom, using his phone to turn the lights on in the dimmest option, only enough for him to see things around him, but not to make his eyes hurt.

His boxers end up on the floor, and he carefully transfers himself into the tub. He turns the faucet on, letting it slowly fill up. He’s always hated baths, it’s so much water that goes to waste for no reason when he could shower in five minutes, but he can’t do that now.

Unfortunately, he can’t stand under the running shower, so he has to take a bath if he wants to clean himself up. He still makes sure to only fill it up to about halfway so that he can live with his conscience a little lighter knowing that he has to take baths every day.

He lets out a relaxed exhale, closing his eyes as he rests his head back against the border of the tub. The guilty truth, however, is that those baths relax him much more than the quick showers ever did.

A sneeze.

He sneezes exactly five times in a row, and they’re followed by a string of curse words as he complains about how stupid it is that he got sick over something so dumb. He wasn’t even outside for that long.

His eyes open again when he hears his phone ringing, and he considers ignoring it until he sees his best friend’s face on the screen. Sighing, he reaches for it.

“Hey.” Jungkook greets, relaxing under the hot water.

“Hey, Kook.” then comes Jimin’s voice, as gentle as always. “I’m taking a break on a photoshoot that I’m doing, and I thought to call you, because the photographer let slip how they wanted to book you instead, but couldn’t get through to your team.”

“I’m not taking anything at the moment, they know that, so the emails don’t even reach Hoseok as of now, I think.” Jungkook shrugs. “They’re so much better off with you on the photoshoot, anyway.” he praises.

“Thank you.” he can hear the smile on his friend’s voice. “I just thought that it was funny that I, the model, came second to you, the boxer… and it’s a jewelry brand, so I know that you wouldn’t even take it.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Yeah, I wouldn’t.”

“Hey, what’s wrong? Your voice sounds funny.” Jimin points out, and he realizes that he must sound as dumb as he hears it in his head. “You’re speaking through your nose. Are you sick, or something?”

“I caught a cold, I think.” Jungkook admits, sniffing. “It’s nothing serious, though, I’m ok.” he adds right away, because he can’t ever pass the image that he’s not.

It’s just a cold, he’s not dying.

“Oh, I see. You have to be careful, keep yourself warm when it’s raining or cold… We don’t want you to get, I don’t know, pneumonia or something.” and this is exactly why he didn’t want to tell Jimin about it.

“I’m not going to get pneumonia from a little cold.” he states the obvious, his free hand mindlessly squeezing his own thigh up and down in a lazy rendition of the massages that he receives every day.

“Fine, ok, but take care of yourself.”

“Yes, sure.” Jungkook dismisses.

Now that he thinks of the session that he’s going to have in an hour or so, he realizes that he’s nowhere in the mood to go to the gym today, to lie there for an hour staring up at the ceiling when he can just stay in his bed, warm and comfortable.

Besides, he can just imagine how he must look. He makes a mental note to text Taehyung once he ends the call; missing one day won’t hurt anyone.

“…and you need to take a warm bath, and keep yourself warm and cozy in bed, so that—” Jimin stops abruptly, and Jungkook can hear another voice in the back, but can’t understand what it’s saying. “Kook, they’re calling me to continue the shoot, I have to go.”

“That’s ok.” he nods to himself, slightly relieved. He knows his friend well enough to know that the list of precautions wasn’t going to end any time soon. “I’ll just go to bed after this, I’m taking a warm bath right now.”

“Ok, that’s great.” Jimin says. “Right, I’ll call you later, I really have to get going. Bye, Kook!” he doesn’t even have the time to say anything back before the call ends, and he’s not at all bothered by that fact.

He never knows how to end a call.

He puts his phone away, deciding to only text Taehyung once he’s out of the tub and ready for bed, deciding to be done with the bath quickly before the water can cool down and aggravate his stuffy nose.

Next time, he’ll just watch the rain through the window.

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Hey, can you not come today?  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  I fear that I cannot fulfil that request. You’ll have to put up with me

Me  |
No, like, I’m dying  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  What kind of death? Slow and painful? Yummy

Me  |
I’m really sick as fuck  |
I watched the rain outside last night, and I caught a cold  |
Just don’t come anywhere near me today  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  Aw… You don’t want to pass it to me?

Me  |
No, my head hurts way too much for me to listen to your voice  |

|  Kim Taehyung
|  You’re genuinely tiring

Me  |
And you’re infuriating  |
Bye, I’m going to sleep my migraine off. Don’t come today  |

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Jungkook sniffs when he hears a knock on his bedroom door, and proceeds to cover his entire head with the sheets so that his cook doesn’t see him. He didn’t get up for breakfast, nor did he request to have it brought to him, and he’s now missing lunch.

He’s not surprised that she’s finally come to ask him if he won’t be eating anything. He’s quite hungry, but he can’t even think about getting up from his bed.

“Are you hiding from closet monsters?” the voice is much different from the high and feminine one that he was expecting, and he quickly uncovers his head. “I thought that you were only scared of lightning.”

“What in the hell are you doing here?” despite trying to sound serious, his clogged nose betrays him, making him sound a little too funny and nasal.

Taehyung laughs at him. “I brought you some soup.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook furrows his brows.

“Because you’re sick.” his therapist states the obvious, looking for the button to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. “Have you taken any medicine?”

“No.”

“Have you measured your fever…?” he squints.

“No. Look, I woke up feeling all of these fucked symptoms, and I took a bath and came back to my bed, where I plan to spend the rest of my day.” the athlete explains, the sheets still up to his neck, and voice making clear just how sick he really is.

“Gosh, you suck at taking care of yourself.” Taehyung scolds, unimpressed. “Did you dry your clothes on your body last night, or did you take them off right away?”

“I went outside in boxers.”

“Were you having a breakdown?” Jungkook blinks at the question, because he doesn’t even know what the true answer to that would be. Was he? He doesn’t think so, at least not to the full extent, but his thoughts were clearly spiraling, and his mind was all over the place, and overwhelming him to no end. “The fact that you didn’t say ‘no’ right away is concerning. Are you ok?”

“Yes, I was just enjoying the damn rain.” he mumbles, shifting under the sheets. “I’m fucking tough, I never get sick, I don’t know what happened this time.”

“You never get sick? Your nose looks like Rudolph’s from how red it is.” Taehyung teases, and he can see just how much the other doesn’t appreciate the joke.

“You’re so not funny.” Jungkook insults.

“I’m hilarious.” the elder corrects, stepping closer to him to place a hand flat on his forehead after moving his messy bangs away. “Hm, you’re very warm, you probably have a fever brewing.  It’s best if you take some medicine after you eat some soup.”

“But I don’t want to eat.” he does, actually, but he doesn’t want to move a single finger to eat something.

“Don’t start being difficult, or I’ll feed you the soup myself.” Taehyung warns. “Sit up, c’mon, hurry.” he urges and Jungkook groans, pushing his sheets down to his hips as he waits for the soup to be handed over.

Taehyung opens his bag, getting a thermal container and a small package of plastic spoons that he bought on the way there. The container is warm when the athlete grabs it, and steam comes out of it as he opens the lid; the soup is still very hot, which he appreciates.

There’s nothing better than the warmth that spreads down his chest with some warm soup.

The therapist just stands there with his hands on his hips as he blows on the soup and stirs it to cool it down a little. “Why didn’t you ask your cook to make you some soup or something? You could’ve.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Do you really think that I’d let anyone see me sick? Especially with a cold? You’re insane.” his voice sounds even more caught up, and his therapist has to keep himself from laughing. He just sounds really funny.

“I’m seeing you sick.”

“I have long given up on my image in front of you. You have seen me in more embarrassing states.” Taehyung smiles at that, be it entertained or laughing at his voice again, Jungkook doesn’t know. He takes a first spoonful of soup to his mouth, and his body almost melts when he realizes that it’s homemade.

“Is it good? I cooked it yesterday.” he asks.

“It’s very good.” Jungkook nods, his stomach thanking him for the warm meal. “You didn’t have to bring it…”

“I clearly did, because you weren’t going to eat.” the elder grabs his bag again, looking for some fitting pills for Jungkook to take. “I’m leaving this here, and you’ll take one as soon as you finish that.” he instructs, placing them on the bedside table. “Also, are we really not going to have a session today? Because I don’t mind you being sick, and it’s not like you have to do anything as of now… You’re improving quickly nowadays, and we shouldn’t lose a day.”

“I don’t want to move from this bed, so.”

“Then don’t.” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ll do it here.”

Jungkook chokes on the soup, having to cough twice before he can speak. “In my bedroom? Are you completely out of your mind, Taehyung?” he chuckles.

“I’m not about to let you miss a session when we’re so close to success, so you can decide whatever you prefer. We either do it here, or we’ll get your ass up and out of bed, and we’ll go to the gym to have our session.” Taehyung offers, hands on his hips.

The athlete puts the spoon down, looking at him with his lips pressed together in a thin line. Taehyung doesn’t relent, and he can tell how serious the elder is about it, so he takes a moment to consider the options.

He does not want to move from the bed; his bedroom is warm and cozy, whereas the rest of the house will be at normal temperature always set by the air conditioning system. Not only that, but he doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of getting dressed and on the chair, and then on the massage table, and all of that again just to return to his bedroom once done.

With a sigh, he nods. “Fine, but this will never happen again, do you understand?” he says as he points with the plastic spoon, and the therapist only hums, already reaching for his bag before he can change his mind.

Taehyung refrains from asking anything about his bedroom — or, more specifically, his unwillingness to let anyone in there — because he doesn’t want to abuse Jungkook’s momentary kindness.

Jungkook enjoys a new spoonful of soup as he watches the elder pull his sheets away, uncovering his bare legs; he’s still only wearing a pair of boxers.

He waits for questions, even for a comment or two regarding his unexpected calmness towards the matter, towards having someone in his room, but it never comes, and he appreciates that. He doesn’t want to answer questions or talk, as it is, when his head feels as though it might explode any second now.

Taehyung doesn’t ask, and he’s thankful for that.

Jungkook reaches for the closed laptop near him, pressing play on the show that he tried to watch the night before — the one so interesting that he fell asleep to it, and doesn’t know what’s happening on.

He doesn’t want to watch it, doesn’t intend on actually paying attention to the plot or anything, but he doesn’t mind having it as background noise and some distraction so that he doesn’t allow himself to think too much about the fact that Taehyung’s been in his room for ten minutes now, and will be staying for longer.

He’s just enjoying the warm soup, eating it as slowly as he can so that it lasts longer, while the therapist focuses attentively on his task, his job.

“You know…” Taehyung starts after a minute or so, and he shifts his attention away from the screen to give the elder a puzzled look. “You need a change of setting.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been confined to your house for… many months now. Have you even gone anywhere outside besides the hospital?” he asks, curious.

“Fuck, no.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I can’t let the press take pictures of me in that stupid thing.” he doesn’t point to it, but Taehyung knows that he’s talking about the chair. “I can’t fucking let that happen.”

“You could be the voice for a lot of people if—”

“Listen, call me an asshole again, I don’t care, but I don’t want to be anyone’s poster child. I don’t want to be the voice of anything besides my sport, and my career. I genuinely, with my whole being, can’t find it in myself to want to be an example for anyone.”

“I understand that.” Taehyung nods, taking a moment to think his next words through. “You definitely could use your vast resources to, you know, help people in the same situation, or something.” he shrugs.

“Fix me, and I’ll donate whatever amount you’d like, but I’m not about to be what people in wheelchairs look up to. That’s not who I want to be, and I can’t wait to get rid of that thing.” Jungkook adds as he takes the last spoonful of soup to his mouth, neatly setting the bowl on his nightstand. His stomach feels satisfied.

“I’m going to hold you up to that in the future.” the elder promises, still processing the first words. “But, still, you could go somewhere other than here. I could even—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Taehyung, no.” his voice comes out a little more assertive, and Taehyung knows that there’s no reason to even try to fight him, or try to change his mind, because it won’t work. “The thought alone of being seen publicly makes me sick. It won’t happen.”

“Okay, got it.” Taehyung nods. “I’ll bring the outside to you, then. You haven’t known anything other than lying in your bed, watching Netflix and our sessions. You need to start getting active again, not waste away.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, confused. “Bring the outside?” he parrots. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that I might just come here on my next day off with something for us to do.” Taehyung explains. “I can’t let you stick to this routine until we finish treatment, that’s way too freaking boring.”

“Jesus Chr—”

“Stop complaining, I know that you like my company quite a lot.” Taehyung tsks, and Jungkook crosses his arms as he looks away to his laptop again. He’s not about to confirm nor deny said affirmation.

It is a true fact that he doesn’t mind Taehyung’s presence. They get along decently nowadays, they don’t fight anymore, and Jungkook has realized that he doesn’t have to put up an image around him, which makes it comfortable, and easy.

Taehyung can see right through him even when he does try to put up a front, so he’s long given up on doing that. There’s no one, currently, that knows him better; as scarily odd as that might be.

The thought makes him frown. How come Taehyung knows so much about him, but he doesn’t know the first thing about the man? That’s not fair.

“I just realized something.” Jungkook says, and the therapist only hums for him to go on. “You know way too much about me, considering that I don’t know anything about you. How about you make this even?”

Taehyung takes a moment, before chuckling. “Alright, what are you so curious about? I don’t like talking about myself, I prefer to be a listener… I don’t know what to say when asked about myself. Ask something.”

“Uh— I don’t know, start basic. What about your parents? I’ve never heard you mention them…” the shift is quite immediate, and Jungkook doesn’t understand why his question alone is enough to make the little smile that Taehyung had, fade away.

“I don’t… Well, I don’t have parents.” he admits.

Jungkook blinks. “What—?!”

“My parents gave me up for adoption a few days after I was born.” Taehyung elaborates, his eyes focused on the athlete’s foot as he continues to stretch it in different positions; easier to stare at than Jungkook’s curious eyes. He really hates to talk about himself.

“So, you do have parents. Adoptive parents…?”

“No, not quite. I was an angry child, I scared off anyone that tried to take me home on that first trial day… No one ever got past that first meeting.” Jungkook can only stare, surprised. “My grandparents from my birth-giver’s side found out about it when I was about ten years old, and they took care of me from then on.”

“You call your mom your ‘birth-giver’?” he squints.

Taehyung shrugs. “That’s all that she’s ever been for me. My grandma tried really hard to make her get in touch with me, but she didn’t want to, so I don’t care about who she is, she doesn’t exist to me.”

Jungkook doesn’t even know what to ask next. “Do you still keep in touch with your grandparents…? You speak of them with such a serious face that I can’t tell whether you’re happy to mention, or sad, or if you hated them. You’re really inexpressive.” he voices his frustration; Taehyung can be too hard to read.

“They’ve both passed away. My grandma died three years ago with cancer, and my grandpa followed a few months later. The doctors said that it’s literally possible to die from heartbreak, which is fucking stupid, but…”

“I’m sorry for asking.” Jungkook whispers. In his defense, there was no way for him to know that it would end up like this, but maybe he just shouldn’t have asked anything at all. He was curious, yes, but the first question was already the wrong one to ask.

Taehyung tsks. “You get vulnerable all the time, I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t do the same. It’s ok, you didn’t know.” he reassures. “Regarding what you said, though, I didn’t hate them, they were amazing. They helped me with a lot. If I even got to go to college and be where I am right now, it was because of them.”

Jungkook hums. “Did they pay for your college?”

“No, I worked a few jobs to pay for my college tuition while studying. They helped me with… other things that I was dealing with while studying.” he tries to explain without explaining it, refusing to mention his son to someone who despises children.

He hasn’t talked about his grandparents in a long time, and it’s always good to remember them, to talk about them, because they did help a lot. They took care of Jiwoon when he was a little baby, when Taehyung didn’t know the first thing about kids.

They babysat his baby during his classes, when neither him nor Miyun could be there to take care of him, and never asked for anything back. He’s very grateful to them and for everything that they did.

“What about—”

“Hey, one question a day.” Taehyung interrupts. “You have learned enough for today. Tomorrow, who knows.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅

When the session ends, Jungkook covers himself again while the elder stores everything in his bag. He can already feel sleep crawling over him, and he blames it on his migraine — though, he must admit that the pill that Taehyung gave him worked to some extent.

He left three more on his nightstand for him to take with eight-hour-long intervals, so he can only hope not to feel like crap the following day.

Taehyung zips up his bag before walking closer, and the athlete is positively surprised when he feels two hands tucking the sheets close to his sides, making sure that he’s being hugged by the warm comforters.

“I’m not a child.” he still has to complain, even if he doesn’t move an inch to stop him, and his body does relax even further under the covers.

“You don’t have to be one to be tucked in.” Taehyung shrugs, moving Jungkook’s bangs away to place his palm flat against his forehead again. “Hm, you’re still a little too warm.” he says, more to himself than anything.

Jungkook watches, quietly, as he goes back to his bag, crouching by it to look for a thermometer. He walks up to him, opening the small plastic container where he keeps the thermometer. “I’m not using that. I can just tell that you’ve used that with other patients, and—”

“It’s disinfected after every use, don’t start.” the elder interrupts. “Put this in your mouth, c’mon.” he instructs.

Jungkook chuckles. “That’s usually my line.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “I’m going to ignore that.”

“Tough audience…” Jungkook mumbles. “My hands are way too warm for me to move them right now.” he adds with a little shrug, and then opens his mouth.

“And then you try to convince me that you’re not a child.” Taehyung steps closer, placing the thermometer in Jungkook’s mouth, and even closes his jaw with his other hand. “Keep your mouth closed so that it works right on the first try.” he quickly adds.

He knows that Jungkook would want to say something to defend himself, and it’s best to prevent it.

The athlete rolls his eyes, and they stare at each other for as long as necessary for the thermometer to beep a few times, indicating that it’s done measuring his temperature. “Let me see…” he pulls it out.

“How is it? Am I dying today?” he asks with a sniff.

“Not yet. It’s a little above what the ideal would be, but not enough for it to be concerning. Don’t forget to take the pills, and you should be fine.” Taehyung explains, and Jungkook hums as the elder grabs a small pack of an alcohol wet-wipe to clean the thermometer.

“So… you won’t keep my saliva to clone me?” the idea alone makes Taehyung laugh, and he can’t help but to notice the amount of jokes that Jungkook has been making as of lately, which is like a breath of fresh air. Jungkook, a few months ago, was exhausting.

“I’d only ever clone you if I wanted to experience what it is like to punch you in the face.” he plays along, walking to him again. “Now that would be great.”

“Threatening me under my own roof, in my own room. I can’t believe it.” Jungkook says with a sigh, only to groan when those two hands pat him down again to tuck the sheets tightly around his body. “Stop treating me like a child, I’m serious.”

“Then start taking care of yourself.” Taehyung doesn’t seem to care about what he says, still focused on making the bed as comfortable as possible. Maybe it’s his fatherly instinct acting up, but he can’t just leave knowing that Jungkook is sick. “Don’t forget your pills, and you can call if you need something, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” he mumbles, looking up at Taehyung’s warm smile as the elder leans closer, towering over him to fix the pillow under his head. He’s never seen him this up close, nor has he ever noticed how intense his cologne is. It’s a good kind of intense, though.

Jungkook has always been very sensitive when it comes to smells, so his nose always twists in distaste when someone wears cologne or perfume that is too strong, but he doesn’t dislike Taehyung’s.

It’s a little stronger than his own, musky.

He can also see that Taehyung has a little mole on the tip of his nose, much like his own, and he’s never noticed such detail; nor the one mole on his bottom lip, or the beauty mark on his cheek.

He can see Taehyung’s lips moving as he fixes his pillow, but his ears aren’t processing what the words are; he’s far too busy and focused on Taehyung’s face and the unfamiliar proximity.

And Taehyung fails to notice the heat of the stare.

“Are you comfortable?” he asks, looking down and meeting his eyes, and Jungkook’s too entranced, looking up without a word. “Jungkook—?”

“Y-Yes, I’m comfortable, thank you.” Jungkook looks away from him, an uncharacteristic blush coloring his cheeks. Taehyung smiles, stepping away.

“Well, then I’ll get going.” he says. “Call me if you need anything, and don’t hesitate to ask your cook for help if you need… Don’t let your pride be an impediment.”

“Yeah, sure.” he nods. “Bye.”

“Mhm, I’ll see you tomorrow, Jungkook.” the therapist bids his goodbyes as he flings his bag over his shoulder, and Jungkook watches him leave his room.

He takes his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes.

“What the fuck…

TWITTER

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  What the fuck.
|  Really. What the hell.
|  I’m actually going insane because what the fucking hell. Why the FUCK was I straight up checking him out? I really needed more to think about and overwhelm myself more with. I really did.
|  It must be the fever. I’m going to sleep this off, I don’t even want to think. I actually refuse to think

Chapter Text

When his morning alarm rings in the room, it doesn’t wake Jungkook up. No, he’s already up and staring at his ceiling with his hands on his abdomen, lost in his thoughts. He’s been awake for a while.

He can’t tell whether it’s been thirty minutes or three hours, but it was enough to see the blinds slowly going up on their own, and see the sun’s intensity changing.

The athlete sighs, reaching for the alarm to turn it off.

It’s one of those days. He doesn’t want to move a single muscle, doesn’t want to get up from that very bed that he’s lying on, doesn’t want to see anyone.

It’s one of those days when he just wants to be alone.

Unfortunately for him, not even another full minute goes by before his phone rings on his bedside table, but he doesn’t want to pick up. Still, he’s a little too curious not to check the caller, at the very least.

His mother.

“For fuck’s sake…” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he weighs his options. He doesn’t want to talk to her right now, but he doesn’t want to ignore his mother when he’s trying to strengthen their relationship.

Ignoring it is a good option when straight-up declining the call seems far too rude, but he doesn’t have it in himself to just let it ring until it goes to voicemail.

Had it been a few months ago, he would have no problem pressing that red circle to decline the call, so ignoring it would’ve been even easier.

His hand, still hesitantly, reaches for the phone, making a mental deal with himself that, if he doesn’t pick up on time, then he’ll just not call back, but his finger does come in contact with the green circle while it’s ringing.

“Hello.” he picks up, unenthusiastic.

“Hello there, sweetheart.” his mother sounds as sweet as usual. “Are you sick? Did you catch a cold?”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “How do you know?”

“Because I’m your mom, I can hear it in your voice. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?” she asks.

“No, I’m ok. I caught a cold because I sat under the rain for a bit the other day, but I feel better today, don’t worry.” he half-lies; he did cough and sneeze a handful of times ever since he woke up.

“Are you sure? You don’t know how to take care of yourself… Did you even take anything? Eat anything?”

“Mom, stop, I’m not a child anymore.” Jungkook scolds, not at all in the mood to be lectured by her or anyone at all. “I ate some soup, and I took the right medicine.”

“Oh, ok, that sounds good.” he can hear the relief in her voice. “You can’t blame me for worrying, I know you too well to think that you’d voluntarily look after yourself in sickness.” the fact that she’s right makes him feel a little annoyed. He wasn’t going to take anything, he was just going to stay in bed and just wait and hope for the cold to go away on its own.

“Yeah, right.” Jungkook mumbles. “Why did you call?”

“What, I can’t just wish to hear my son’s voice?”

“The fact that you called exactly a minute after my alarm went off tells me that you were waiting for the right time. That shows that you must’ve had a reason to do it.” he accuses, closing his eyes again.

“Okay, you got me.” the woman giggles. “I was wondering… Would you like to come and spend a few days here with me and your father?” she offers. “You haven’t visited your home in years…”

“That’s not my home anymore, mom, I have my own place.” he says with a quiet sigh. “If things were different, I’d take that offer, but I can’t go. No reporter can get anywhere near my house, but yours isn’t in a private and gated community, anyone can just walk up to your door… Which is really unsafe, I’ve told you.”

“No one knows where we live, stop worrying.” she dismisses it; they’ve had that conversation many times already. “And I don’t see how that’s a reason…”

“I can’t let people see me, mom.” he explains what should’ve been obvious. “I’m not going to a place where that could happen.” his phone vibrates in his hand, and he sees that as an opportunity. “I’m receiving a call, I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay… I’m sorry for not thinking about that.” the beaten-up tone in her voice makes him feel like an asshole, but he can’t seem to care enough today to say anything. “I’ll wait for a call later, I love you.”

“Yeah, later.” he ends the call, looking down at the screen. It was just a text, which he could tell from the fact that it only vibrated once, and the name on the screen makes his expression turn sour.

Taehyung.

He clicks on it. Taehyung is wishing him a good morning and asking if he feels any better today, and he just closes the app and locks his phone again, putting it back on the nightstand, and away from him.

The weird moment from the day before is something that has been consuming his mind since it happened, and he’s come up with twenty or thirty different explanations to justify it, but he can’t find any that he can confidently claim. It was weird and he hates it.

In that short moment, with the elder towering over him to fix his pillow — after taking care of him so diligently, making sure that he felt better and healthier, which no one has ever done — he saw him in a different light.

In that short moment, he saw what people such as his former nurse and Jimin say they see. He can’t even point out what exactly, he just knows that he saw it.

He’s tired of going to bed with Taehyung and his sweet actions all over his head, he’s tired of waking up thinking about what their session will be like, and he’s tired of how consuming Taehyung is. He’s taken over his mind, and Jungkook fully blames him for it.

He’s had enough of it.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung hums a song to himself as he prepares everything that he’s going to need, and he even has enough time to put his gloves on before the athlete arrives at the gym, ten minutes late for the session.

He’s in a good mood today, so he doesn’t mention that.

“Hi, Jungkook.” Taehyung greets him with a smile, and the younger only gives him a little hum while transferring himself to the massage table. “May I ask why you left me on read this morning?” he tries to make conversation as he waits for the sweatpants to be discarded so that they can start

“I forgot.” is all that he says.

“Oh, I see.” he nods. “You can just answer my question now… Do you feel any better today?”

“Yes.” Taehyung puckers his lips, feeling the awkward tension in the gym that he doesn’t quite understand, but Jungkook is free to have his bad days, so he doesn’t think much of how short his answers are.

Instead, he steps closer, taking his hand to one of the athlete’s calves to start the warm-up massages that precede the actual exercises, and starts massaging it in silence, unwilling to disturb him further.

He doesn’t think that something could’ve happened, given that Jungkook has grown to be so much more open nowadays, so he would’ve just told him.

Jungkook is confusing, and he shouldn’t even be surprised by his weird behavior, but he’s been very different lately, so he’s not as used to rude Jungkook anymore. Not that he’s being rude today, but still.

Taehyung is a little too stubborn to just let it pass, especially considering how he knows that Jungkook doesn’t just open up to other people. “Are you upset?”

“Why do you care?” his voice comes out a little too aggressive, much like how it was a few months prior.

“Because your well-being matters to me, and you know that much.” Taehyung still explains, not at all shy to admit such a thing. “Are you ok? Are you still sick o—”

“Just leave me be.” Jungkook cuts him off.

Taehyung sighs. “Okay.” he relents, focusing solely on his job, and letting Jungkook enjoy the silence. Again, the athlete is allowed to have his off days, and it’s no surprise that he, who used to be angry all the time, is snappy just because he’s in a bad mood.

While Taehyung works on the massage, Jungkook can’t rest. He’s hyper-aware of everything now, the sensibility in his legs almost entirely restored, and he can just feel the fingers working their way up one of his thighs, and inching closer to his groin.

He can feel the fingers pressing on his skin, can feel the tingling sensations that they leave behind on their way up, and he can’t stand it anymore.

He can’t stand feeling foreign hands so close.

“Stop.” he says when Taehyung’s fingers reach the hem of his boxers, with zero second intentions, of course, but oblivious to Jungkook’s internal struggle.

“Sorry?” Taehyung looks at him, distracted.

“Stop, just fucking stop touching me, get away from me right now.” Jungkook repeats, his voice getting a little louder as he sits up. “Get away, get the fuck away.”

“Jungkook, are y—”

“I’ve had enough of this, I’ve had enough of these sessions and of you.” Jungkook spits, interrupting him halfway. “This isn’t going anywhere, I don’t need to feel your fucking hands on me, I need to walk again. You promised, but nothing is fucking happening, and I’ve had enough of this shit, of these sessions. I’m fed up with your presence.” Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up, positively surprised. “You pry, and you ask, and you fucking bother, and I’m fed up. This isn’t working, and I can’t handle it anymore. I don’t want this, or you around me anymore. Fucking hell.”

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say.

But Jungkook isn’t done. “I was right to think that I should’ve never allowed this, or allowed an incompetent so-called doctor to promise to heal m—”

“I do not care that you’re paying me, Jeon, you can’t down me like that. Measure your fucking words.” the doctor cuts him off. “I took your insults for months, but I’m not going to do that again, I’m not going to allow you to disrespect me like that again. I thought that we were getting somewhere, but as much as I’ve gained respect for you, I won’t just stand here and listen to you having no respect for me. I’d advise you to stop now.”

“Leave, then.” Jungkook points to the door.

“I’m not going t—”

“Do you want me to say please? Please. Fucking please, just go and don’t come back here ever again.”

Taehyung stares at him for a moment, and he can see the inner turmoil behind the eyes that he’s learned to read. “What’s going on? Seriously. Are you ok?”

And he’s hit with the last reaction that he could ever expect. Instead of an insult, instead of silence, instead of an apology, Jungkook’s face twists as his bottom lip wobbles, and he looks away to cover his face.

Jungkook starts crying, and it’s not just one stray tear.

Taehyung doesn’t even know what to do.

He should probably stay away and let him deal with whatever is going on, but he can’t just stand there and watch the younger man sob into his hand. So, he steps closer, pulling him for a comforting hug.

Jungkook tries to push him. “No, stay aw—”

“Shh…” Taehyung shushes him, having to actually use his strength to keep Jungkook’s arms down, but the latter doesn’t fight him again, just giving up. Taehyung is even more speechless to have the athlete crying in his arms, head resting against his chest.

Had it been anyone else, Taehyung would play with their hair and try to comfort them, but that would definitely be considered overstepping with Jungkook, and he knows that he must treat him like a wounded animal: don’t move too much, because it’ll ruin it.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but you know that you can talk to me… or to Yoongi, since he’s now officially your therapist.” Taehyung says, keeping his hands respectfully on Jungkook’s back, not even massaging or patting it lest it ruin the hug.

Jungkook sniffs. He’s never felt this embarrassed in his life; crying in someone’s arms? Not only in front of someone, but also letting them hold him close? He truly is losing his mind, and it’s getting scary now.

“I’m so fucking fed up…” he whispers, eyes closed.

Taehyung doesn’t know how to answer that, so he just lifts one hesitant hand to the back of Jungkook’s head to weakly caress it. He doesn’t know what to do.

They don’t continue the session. Jungkook doesn’t even have to ask for it; in fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. Taehyung holds him until his sobs come to a stop, and only breaks the hug when he’s calmed down.

Taehyung hands him a tissue and his sweatpants, and the athlete has never been this relieved in his life. He’s happy that they won’t have to stay there and continue the session, because he wants to crawl up and disappear just thinking about what happened.

“Do you want me to take you to your room?” Taehyung asks, but Jungkook knows what he’s actually asking.

Taehyung will take him wherever he wants to go now, he’s just asking where that is, and he does not want to go to his room right now, so he shakes his head.

“Do you want to go outside?” again, he only shakes his head. “Alright… Do you want to stay here, maybe?”

“Yes.” Jungkook whispers, eyes never leaving his lap.

He’s so embarrassed, he wants to evaporate.

Taehyung has seen him going through many lows, but this has got to be the worst one so far. Not only did he see him cry — read, sobbing — but he also held him through it. There’s nothing more embarrassing.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it, you’re obviously not in the right mind for a session today.” Taehyung says as he flings his bag over his shoulder, still looking at him. “I’m still quite angry over what you said, so I hope that you think about your words, and understand just how rude and unfair you were.” he adds. Jungkook looks away.

He knows that he went too far.

He knows that he crossed the line.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you know that you have people more than willing to listen to you, and even try to help you out. Myself included.” the athlete remains quiet, fiddling with his fingers. “I hope that you feel a little lighter tomorrow. Maybe we’ll be able to actually talk in a few hours.”

Jungkook looks up when he hears him stepping away, followed by the door opening. He wants to apologize, the words are stuck in his throat, but he does want to let them out. They don’t come out, however.

He’s not familiar with them, he’s not familiar with apologizing, and it’s hard, so he doesn’t. Besides, he meant most of what he said, just not in the way that it came out, but it worked. It pushed Taehyung away.

He pushes his chair closer to the punching bags — he has multiple, some are machines, others simply hanging from the ceiling; ones harder, ones softer.

Looking over at all the gloves that he has hanging on one of the walls, he quickly decides on one of the pairs, and puts it on without bothering to wrap his hands first. It’s not like he’s going to fight anyone.

The feeling alone of those gloves on his hands makes him want to start sobbing again. It’s been so long since he’s felt that warmth holding his fingers, his palms, and he’s missed it more than he’s ever missed anything.

Of course, putting a pair of gloves in his gym is nothing like putting them on before entering the ring, ready to face an opponent, but this is good for now.

He picks one of the punching bags hanging from the ceiling, and closes his eyes before punching it. It’s weird to punch it without being in the proper form, the proper stance, but it’s not like he can do anything about that. He can’t stand at all, let alone correctly.

Practicing his punches is something that has always been therapeutic for him, something that allows him to let out frustration, anger, and even sadness that he was always too prideful to acknowledge. It’s freeing.

Now, when he punches the bag again, he’s not so sure of what emotion he’s trying to let out into it. He’s stressed, he’s confused, definitely frustrated, and he’s regretful of many, many things.

He regrets so many things that they juxtapose themselves. He regrets ever letting Taehyung get close but also regrets being rude to him just minutes prior.

He regrets opening up but also regrets being unable to do it more easily, and not knowing how to do it without offending someone — in this case, Taehyung.

The frustration and anger are equally as hard to explain. He’s angry and frustrated over so many things, but the panic and confusion are still louder today.

His punches start getting harder and harder as he starts getting lost in his thoughts, and he imagines himself for a split second, imagining his own face as his fist collides with the punching bag.

Taehyung’s face clouds his thoughts once again, and it makes his tears return, even warmer this time around.

“Fuck—” a punch. “—you.” another one.

He really does feel like crying. He doesn’t know what to think when it comes to how often he thinks about his therapist. It’s weird, scary, and definitely unwanted.

He can’t understand why that happens.

Sure, Taehyung takes care of him in ways that no one has ever done, not only because he’s never met anyone willing to, but also because he’s never allowed a single person to get close enough to even try.

Sure, Taehyung is the only person that, from day one, has seen him as a regular human being, and hasn’t cared for a second about who he is.

Sure, Taehyung has been his support since the accident, even when they hated each other.

But does that justify him not leaving his mind? Does that justify Jungkook being unable to go a full day without thinking about the man, one way or the other?

And what happened yesterday is the worst part of it all.

By the time that he notices it, he’s already punching the bag as hard as he would punch opponents during his matches, but it doesn’t relieve any frustration,

No, instead, it makes him feel it even harder.

He feels his eyes stinging again, and his vision getting blurry, and he gives the bag a lady punch with a throaty groan before ripping the gloves from his hands and throwing them far away from himself to cover his face.

“Fucking hell…”

TWITTER

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I have a fucking migraine. I just cried for 20 minutes, what the fuck is going on with me
| If I think, it hurts my head. If I don’t think, it hurts my head to keep myself from doing so. I’m only ok when I’m asleep. I don’t want him to come over tomorrow. I don’t want to see him ever again… I should just fire him. But I can’t.

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Taehyung keeps his eyes on the table, twirling his coffee mug between his palms as his mind wanders back to what happened earlier in the day.

Jungkook hasn’t behaved so weirdly in a long time, and Taehyung doesn’t recall the last time that he really felt offended by something that the athlete had said. It’s been a while since he’s been that rude to him.

Something happened, he knows, but he has no idea of what it could’ve been. Jungkook was stressed, angry, and clearly overwhelmed, if his tears are anything to go by. He would never show such vulnerability unless it truly was too much for him to handle.

He knows that his words were, most likely, said without second thoughts. He knows that Jungkook probably didn’t mean them, and said them in a moment of anger and frustration, but Taehyung can’t and won’t be his punching bag. He doesn’t demand much, only respect.

Jungkook is hard to read, is hard to decipher, but he couldn’t have been so wrong to the point of believing that they were somewhat friends when they weren’t even past the insulting stage; that’s impossible.

Being called incompetent stings in a way that it certainly shouldn’t, but Taehyung prides himself in his work, and he studied a lot to get where he is. He’s helped a lot of people already, and he won’t allow someone to insult him and his skills.

No matter how angry Jungkook was, no matter how frustrated he was, there are limits and certain lines that shouldn’t be crossed, no matter the type of relationship. It doesn’t matter if they’re complete strangers or the best of friends: he can’t just say whatever he thinks, without measuring the weight of his words, and how hurtful they might come off.

“Taehyung.” he looks up, startled.

“Yes?” his best friend raises an eyebrow. “Oh, right. I apologize, I wasn’t listening to anything that you just said. Do you mind repeating it…?” he requests.

“No, I cannot.” Yoongi shakes his head. “I could tell that you were everywhere but here, but I thought that you’d snap out of it while I was speaking… Apparently not.”

Taehyung sighs. “Right, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, c’mon.” he tsks. “I do want to know what’s got you this thoughtful, though. Why are you so tuned out of the conversation?” Yoongi asks, curious.

“Can I even talk to you about it? It’s Jungkook. I don’t want to come between your sessions with him, we should probably not talk about him.”

“I’m actually very good at separating my work and my personal life. I have my Yoongi ears with you, and I have my Dr. Min ears with him. Nothing that you tell me will go between my sessions with him, just like nothing that he tells me will ever be known by you unless he’s the one deciding to tell you.” Yoongi explains, taking a sip from his coffee. “You can talk to me.”

“You better be good at separating your personal life and your work, because I truly hope that you’re not squealing in your chair while talking to him.”

“First of all: rude, offensive, I have never done that.”

“You have.”

“I have never done it in front of you.” Yoongi corrects. “I found it hard to focus but, like, only in the first minute or two, because then my professionalism really kicked in. He’s so handsome, man, and his voice is so sexy.”

Taehyung hums. “If only his personality was as attractive as his outside.” he laments. “I really thought that we were making progress in that aspect, he was getting nicer, way calmer, and opening up to me on his own, but he fucking flipped today.”

“Define ‘flipped’, please.”

“Well, for starters, I texted him this morning asking him if he was feeling better, because he caught a cold, and he left me on read. That’s ok, I don’t get angry at anyone for leaving me on read because I do that a lot, I forget to reply… The issue is, when I got there, he was dry and mean, and very much like how he was when we first met.” Taehyung starts, gesturing. “Then, while I was massaging his legs, he started freaking out and telling me to stop it, and to step away, and then said a bunch of mean shit, even insulted me and my work skills… And started crying. I mean, sobbing.”

“That really is w—”

“I’m not done.” Taehyung interrupts. “I know that he told you that I’m his biggest support, because he called me right after to tell me about that conversation, and he thanked me for it, and that’s why I’m so fucking confused. If he just hated me, then I wouldn’t even be dwelling on this, but I know that that’s not the case, and I can’t understand what’s going on.”

“He has a lot going on, not only physically but also emotionally and mentally. Liking it or not, you do bring a lot of new emotions and thoughts to his life, so that also contributes to fueling his racing overthinking. I’m not saying this as his therapist, I’m saying this because that’s how all of us would react in his place. You represent a big part of what’s changing in his life, his routine, and I’m guessing that he… let it all out on you because you’re emotionally the closest person to him.”

Taehyung takes a moment. “That makes sense…”

“Did you react poorly…?”

“No, not really, I just told him that he has to respect me, and other things along those lines. I can’t just be rude to people, and I don’t hate him anymore, so I couldn’t insult him back… nor wanted to.” he shrugs. “I even hugged him when he started crying, I was nice.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “You two? Hugging?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung nods. “He needed it, I could tell.”

“My entire reality just shifted. You couldn’t stand hearing his name a few months ago, but now you held him as he cried… How can you say that you don’t like his personality? You clearly are fond of him.”

“I didn’t say that his personality is entirely shit. He’s hard to deal with but, once you start knowing how to read him, he just has a shit-ton of layers. He’s ok, and I know that he has a good heart, he just needs to start showing it more instead of putting up his walls.”

“You’ve been helping him figure out how to do that, so don’t give up after a bad day.” Yoongi encourages. “Try to talk to him about it tomorrow… Maybe he’ll be in a better place, and more willing to open up about it.”

Taehyung sighs. “Yeah, I’ll try…”

⊱⋅ ──────── ⋅⊰

Later that night, while Taehyung is in the kitchen cutting the cucumbers into small and easily edible slices to place them in Jiwoon’s lunchbox, he can barely focus on the sharp knife that he’s handling.

His mind is all over the place today, and he’s been struggling to focus on his tasks when all that he can think about is Jungkook’s outburst that morning.

Something happened, and Taehyung won’t be able to let go of it until he knows exactly what caused that reaction, that sudden spewing of insults, the crying.

The conversation with his best friend helped to a certain extent, but he’s still just as confused, and just as frustrated about the whole thing. Today felt like them taking three or four steps back, and that’s frustrating.

He wonders whether he really should wait for tomorrow’s sessions, or just send Jungkook a quick text to ask him if he’s doing any better, or if he’s managed to relax, maybe if the boxing helped.

Putting those gloves on must have been hard.

“—dad?!” he hears a loud voice calling from behind him, and that’s enough for the knife to slip from his control, catching one of his fingers.

“Fuck—!” Taehyung hisses, putting the knife down.

“Hey, don’t say ugly words… They grant you pepper on your tongue, if I remember well.” Jiwoon scolds.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” he wraps a paper towel around his finger to stop the bleed from the small cut. “Are you here to ask me to tuck you in?” Jiwoon nods with a large grin. Taehyung smiles. “C’mon, then.”

“You’re the best!” Jiwoon quickly runs off. Taehyung’s smile falls, followed by a sigh. He has to text Jungkook.

iMESSAGE

Me  |
Hi, Jungkook!  |
I saw your tweet earlier today, the picture that you posted of your boxing gloves  |
I’m happy that you practiced a little, if that’s what happened  |
It’s something that you love and I heard that boxing can be very relaxing for the mind  |
With that being said, do you feel better? Calmer?  |

|  Jeon Jungkook
|  Yes.

Me  |
Okay, okay, I’m glad  |
I hope that you sleep well tonight. I don’t know what’s going on, but sleep always helps  |
Hopefully, you’ll be in a better mood tomorrow  |

|  Jeon Jungkook
|  Sure.

Me  |
…  |
Well, okay, good night!  |

TWITTER

|  dad 🔒 (@notae)
|  That was fucking humiliating. Never again.

|  better than u 🔒 (@rllynotjk)
|  I could’ve just ignored the damn texts instead of answering like I have a stick up my ass. I could’ve chosen not to be rude. I don’t want to talk to him, so why did I even open the notifications? Why is it so fucking hard to ignore him, fucking Christ