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Long legs thumped against the cabinet doors underneath the sink, and Jimin pursed his lips, pinching the thigh nearest to him.
Jeongguk whined and placed a hand on top of the aching skin. “What was that for?” Jimin didn’t bother to answer and continued rifling through the first aid kit, his hands eventually wrapping around the bundled ACE wrap and antiseptic.
“Hold out your arm.” His tone was soft and firm, a gentle guide for Jeongguk to toss away his tough guy exterior and listen for once. His shoulders slumped when Jimin cradled his forearm.
“Sorry,” he murmured after a while. With his head cocked tiredly, he watched Jimin tend to every scrape and bruise littering his skin, methodical work forcing a heaviness to expand within his chest. Jimin was consistent and sturdy, a reliable pillar to lean against once Jeongguk trips and fucks up—and he always fucks up.
“Are you going to tell me why you were knocking at my door at,” Jimin paused and reached for his phone. “Three in the morning?” Tired eyes glanced up from the small fingers working an ACE bandage around his sore wrist and Jeongguk barely managed to maintain the contact before dropping his head and studying the rips in his jeans. A soft sigh made him close his eyes, guilt gnawing at the bottom of his stomach and working its way up till it prickled the back of his neck. His jaw clenched.
“Lift your head up.” The command was delicate, like with all things Jimin, and Jeongguk felt inappropriate following the order and staring straight into his boyfriend’s puffy face. Dark bags and frowning lips. He caused that and no matter how many times he sees it, how many times he’s constantly reminded that Jimin indirectly suffers from his reckless choices, he still can’t seem to stop from throwing the first punch.
“Jeongguk,” Jimin sighed, eyebrows furrowing once he was able to fully assess the damage done on his face. A busted lip, black eye, and throbbing nose. It wasn’t any worse than what he’s become accustomed to, but Jimin was still new to this. He wasn’t used to patching up cuts and mending wounded egos; he wasn’t used to constantly worrying whether his boyfriend was okay and not getting beaten to a pulp on the streets. Jimin didn’t have any experience when it came to being woken up at three o’clock at night on a Tuesday, coming face to face with a young battered boy too prideful to indulge on the questions Jimin inevitably asks.
“At least tell me the other guy looks worst?” Jeongguk tore his eyes away from Jimin’s lips, cracking a weak smile that made him wince—the cut on his bottom lip was going to be a pain in the ass tomorrow.
“Maybe a couple,” he muttered before dropping his gaze. The group of shits he unfortunately ran into by a bar were looking for trouble, and Jeongguk’s popped hood and blatant ignoring of their heckling was a breeding ground for a fight. He was lucky a few men came out of the bar to intervene and he didn’t stay long to wait for the police the bar owner repeatedly said he was calling.
“Hey.” Jeongguk didn’t look up, keeping his eyes trained on the way Jimin slotted nicely between his spread legs, slim body drowned in an oversized white t shirt. “Jeonggukkie.” He closed his eyes and felt the beginnings of a fond smile pulling at his mouth.
Soft fingers brushed against his chin and leveled his face with Jimin’s. Beautiful, precious Jimin.
Jeongguk swallowed and raked his eyes over every slope and curve; Jimin’s pretty eyes and puffy cheeks and button nose and pink lips and silky tuffs of black hair splayed across his forehead messily.
“Hey,” he breathed. It was all he could manage, heart squeezing painfully—from what he couldn’t decipher. Being undeserving of the angel before him? Possibly. Realizing that he would go through great lengths to protect said angel? Definitely.
Jimin grinned and shuffled forward, wrapping his arms around Jeongguk’s waist and resting his cheek against the fall and rise of a broad chest. Jeongguk hesitated before curling one arm around Jimin’s neck and lodging his other hand into the cute bedhead hair. He stroked the strands and massaged with the tips of his fingers, praying that his adoration could be felt through just the right amount of pressure.
“Jeongguk?”
“Mhm?”
“Promise you won’t scare me like this ever again.”
Jeongguk rested his chin on top of Jimin’s hair and stared at the rack of towels directly across from them. He chewed on his answer for a little while, worried whether it would be better to deal with Jimin’s disappointment or his own for telling a tiny white lie. Eventually, he pressed his lips against Jimin’s head and murmured a light, “I promise.”
“Does it still hurt?” Jeongguk looked up from his notebook then followed Jimin’s pointed stare to his left bandaged hand. Unknowingly, he’d been flexing it, trying to work past the stings and ache around his knuckles. He pressed his lips together and shrugged, moving the hand off the table and placing it on his thigh. Away from Jimin’s watchful eyes.
Jimin didn’t say anything, instead opting to return to what he was previously writing down, occasionally glancing at Jeongguk. Jeongguk schooled his expression and kept his head down. Although his pencil was scratching the surface of the paper, nothing substantial was being written; his focus was effectively stolen the minute Jimin dropped his own pencil and stared long and hard at him.
“Do I have something on my face?” He asked eventually, lifting his head up with a raised eyebrow. Jimin shook his head, blinking slowly, before running a hand through his bangs. The large glasses perched on his nose got knocked from his tired hand and he adjusted them after a moment. “Did you get any sleep last night?” Jeongguk’s worried voice made Jimin smile while he crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them.
“Three hours. A record in itself with how things been the past couple weeks.” Sickening guilt immediately poisoned his lungs and Jeongguk was thrown back to a few nights ago when he’d shown up at Jimin’s dorm. He remembered how Jimin’s droopy eyes widened and he stumbled down the hallway to the shared bathroom, Jeongguk in tow by a lazy grip on his injured wrist—he didn’t protest even when the pain shot up his arm. “But I’m almost finished with the project. I’m gonna sleep an entire day once I turn it in.”
Jeongguk smiled at Jimin’s wistfulness, not bothering to comment on his boyfriend’s closed eyes and deep breathing. He was falling asleep and Jeongguk didn’t have the heart to point this out. He’d get flack for it once Jimin woke up. But watching an angel in slumber was soothing; it made him feel a little less of the wreck he knew he was.
“Let me see your hand.” Jeongguk’s eyes widened in shock when the sleepy voice rose up after a solid five minutes.
“You’re not asleep?”
Jimin lifted his head, propping it up on a hand, and rolled his eyes, eyelids heavy over brown irises. He motioned for Jeongguk to give him his hand and Jeongguk, with great reluctance, placed his palm upwards on top of Jimin’s. The ACE bandage came halfway up the top of his hand, just below the first purple bruise. Jimin's short fingers traced the edge before trailing up and lightly running over the scabs.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not really.”
“Liar,” Jimin whispered—more to himself than for Jeongguk. Jimin’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his fingers continuing their trek across the bumpy ridges of cracked knuckles. “You’re so careless.”
“I know.” Jeongguk’s response was immediate, sharp yet weak, allowing Jimin room to look up with soft eyes and drag his lips across every cut on his ruined hand.
“I suppose it all works out though.” At Jeongguk’s inquisitive stare, Jimin laughed and pressed a firmer kiss to the knuckles. “What you lack, I make up for. So,” Jimin looked away to watch how he tenderly caressed Jeongguk’s hand. “Even if you don’t care that you can’t use your left hand for the next few days, I do.”
“I care about you,” Jeongguk offered. It was weak, but Jimin took it and winked. Pretty and flirtatious, like when they first became comfortable with each other and began using cheesy nicknames.
“I know you do, Jeonggukkie.”
(and if Jimin ended up holding Jeongguk’s injured hand for the rest of the day, Jeongguk didn’t mention it. He stuck to silence and secret smiles, grateful that he had at least one person looking after him.)
He wouldn’t get angry. No matter what, he was not going to get angry. Deep breaths futilely tried to calm the impending wave of hotness forcing his cheeks to heat up and turn red. He would not get angry.
Yet when he opened his eyes again, he could still clearly see a condescending smirk and the aftermath of assholes starting shit. Jeongguk eyed the two boys before him and began to tick off the different ways he could sneak in the first punch.
“Jeongguk?” A soft touch to his elbow forced him to turn his head to the side, Jimin entering his tinted vision. His boyfriend was radiant underneath the fading sun donning a large sweater and fluffy hair, sunglasses resting backwards behind his ears. Worry dominated his expression and Jeongguk wanted nothing more than to sweep the angel off his feet and whisk him away. Sweet Jimin who didn’t belong on the receiving end of two shit’s irrelevant remarks.
Jeongguk turned back towards the boys and glared with enough malice to make anyone rethink their choices. Apparently a leather jacket and fading bruises weren’t enough to deter idiots.
“Apologize,” he spat. His hand found Jimin’s and a reassuring squeeze helped to keep his limbs locked. The last thing he needed was to leap the distance and tackle one of the boys to the ground. Jimin’s safety was priority—along with his honor. The crude comments thrown at Jimin while they were crossing the street flooded Jeongguk’s head and he gripped onto Jimin’s tiny hand, hoping the contact was enough to keep his full anger at bay.
“Fuck off. There’s nothing wrong with paying a compliment,” one of the boys replied. His eyes shifted towards Jimin and Jeongguk visibly stiffened, muscles pulled taunt and the prominent vein in his neck straining harshly. “He should be flattered.”
“You piece of shit—”
“Jeongguk.” Jimin’s sharp voice made him stop and he reluctantly looked back at the frowning male.
Jimin brought himself in front of Jeongguk and cupped the hand in his grasp with both of his, pressing them to his chest. Jeongguk eyed the gesture before glancing up.
“Don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” he whispered. He took another step forward till the points of their shoes brushed against each other. “You promised.”
Jeongguk’s lips parted, eyes widening a fraction. He spared a look over Jimin’s shoulder and saw the two boys conversing, shooting amused stares their way. His teeth gritted together in frustration, but he ultimately closed his eyes and willed the anger away, driving it out of his system even when it was beginning to make him feel sick. It wasn’t fair. Jimin didn’t deserve that treatment and those assholes needed to be taught a lesson.
Jimin didn’t deserve to be scared by his own boyfriend, too.
Jeongguk winced and then slouched against Jimin, resting his forehead against the smaller male’s shoulder. He felt like a failure and the way Jimin was still holding his hand against his heart made everything ten times worst.
“I’m sorry.” The apology was pressed into the warm skin of Jimin’s neck, coating Jeongguk’s heavy tongue with enough humility to form his next words. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“They’re not worth it.”
They’re enough for Jeongguk’s fist to pummel into their hideous faces, but he didn’t express that, instead curling his other arm around Jimin and holding him close. He took deep breaths to calm the rapid pacing of his heart, to cease the smothering heat encompassing every inch of his strung body. Jimin rocked side to side, murmuring sweet nothings into Jeongguk’s red tipped ear.
When he looked over Jimin’s shoulder again, he saw that the two boys had moved on, nowhere to be seen. He was almost disappointed that he’d miss the chance to teach them basic manners. But Jimin kissed him softly and he found that there were more important things to occupy his mind, a better distraction rather than agonizing over the amount of damage he could have done.
“Thank you.”
“Jeonggukkie?”
Jeongguk hummed in acknowledgement, readjusting his head against the pillow he was sharing with Jimin. A small, warm body clung to his front and tiny clutches against the edges of his hoodie drew his attention to the hesitating male.
“What is it?” He murmured. His fingers traced around the contours of Jimin’s face, soft skin making the pads of his fingers tingle. Jimin pulled back some to stare into his eyes.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Jeongguk smiled and nodded. “Is it about how Namjoon hyung wears his underwear inside out instead of just cleaning them?” The joke served its purpose and the doubt crawling across Jimin’s features lifted in place of a broad grin, small dimples punctuating the giggle that escaped. Jeongguk’s own smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“No, but that is a secret.” Jimin playfully slapped Jeongguk’s chest. “Don’t tell him you know.” Jeongguk nodded solemnly, but stored the confirmation in the back of his head for better use in the future. There’s a reason their group of friends kept embarrassing things to themselves, especially when he’s in the picture.
Jeongguk waited for Jimin to continue, watching as the amusement washed away from his face and concentration pinched the space between his eyebrows. He placed a hand on Jimin’s hip and slowly rubbed the protruding bone there, anxiety eating away at the drowsiness placating his muscles.
Sleep’s been eluding him for the past few days and more times than not, he’s found himself walking around the empty campus, wandering blindly until he would come face to face with Jimin’s door. He never bothered with knocking, instead sliding down the wall and resting his head against the cool frame. He would imagine Jimin tucked underneath the thick blue cover he got him when Jimin complained about the heating in his dorm and somehow it was enough to calm his restless mind. When the door would open bright and early the next morning, Jeongguk’s body would be long gone, the only traces of him there being a couple wrappers of gum and the crumbs of a protein bar he took from the open kitchen.
“You’re my best friend, Jeonggukkie,” Jimin whispered into the pillow. Jeongguk turned his head and saw Jimin’s eyes squeezed shut. “And…” A row of teeth caught Jimin’s bottom lip and he played with it before releasing the swollen flesh and opening his eyes.
They stared at each other for a long time, breath bated, waiting for the next string of words. Jimin broke the contact first and glanced at Jeongguk’s mouth.
“Hyung?”
Sweet lips rushed forward and pressed against his, the almost inaudible smack of wet mouths pulling away from each other the only sound in the room.
“Hyung?” Jeongguk asked again, face gradually heating up from the tender kiss Jimin left at the corner of his lips. Jimin breathed deeply but didn’t answer.
“Never mind.”