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Minho has been waiting to relapse for weeks now. There isn't anything in his life making him upset: he's not particularly sad at all. He just craves the feeling of stinging skin, of clotted blood under his fingertips.
So now, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet with a blade in his hand at an ungodly hour, he's not really surprised. If anything, he's excited to finally rid his mind of the stress of trying to stop himself from doing the one thing he wants to do.
Minho lifts the blade to his scarred inner forearm (not too close to his wrist in case his sleeve decides it hates him and rides up) and presses down—
knock knock
"Minho? Are you in there?"
Shit.
It's Jisung, his boyfriend. Why is he even up at this time? Minho doesn't say anything.
"Minho! Answer me, or I'm coming in," Jisung knocks frantically on the door.
Minho can feel his heartbeat pulsing uncomfortably in his throat. He still can't bring himself to say anything so he just kind of just sits awkwardly on the toilet seat, staring holes into the bathroom door like that'll somehow get Jisung to go away. Shockingly, it doesn't.
Minho watches the door shake as its handle turns aggressively, but to no avail since Minho isn't a total dunce and locked the door. Unfortunately, it's really not that difficult to unlock their doors from the outside, which is exactly what Jisung does.
The door swings open and Jisung crashes in. He stops in his tracks as he stares at Minho's face, then at the blade pressed on his uninjured (for now) arm, then back and his face again.
His voice is high pitched and rushed as he exclaims, "Minho, what are you—"
"Get the fuck out!" Minho stands up, still clutching his blade tightly, as if he might disappear if anyone were to take it.
"Hey, Minho, I'm not angry at you," Jisung's voice has softened a little, but his eyes are still stretched wide, "Just give that to me, it's okay," He eyes the blade and extends his arm out, holding his palm up for Minho to deposit the blade into.
Minho pushes the blade into his palm and clenches his fist as hard as he possibly can around it. "Jisung, I couldn't give less of a shit if you mad at me or not, to be honest," Jisung's brows furrow, "Just leave me the fuck alone. I'm fine."
"You know Minho, I'm no genius, but I'm relatively certain you're not fine. Seriously, just hand it over and everything will be okay," Jisung tries to reassure him. It's no use. Minho is relapsing tonight. He's not letting Jisung ruin this for him. He loves his boyfriend, and he feels terrible to push him away like this, but it really is his only option here if he wants to actually feel better.
"I don't fucking care about everything being okay!" Minho roars. His eyes are starting to sting a little while guilt bubbles in his stomach. He approaches Jisung before placing his hands on his chest and pushing him harshly. Jisung stumbles back, out of the doorframe, out of the way. Minho slams the door shut and locks it, his left hand clutching the lock, almost as hard as his right is the blade, so Jisung won't be able to unlock the door.
Jisung knocks violently, "Open the door Minho!"
"No! Fuck off!" his voice cracks a little as tears start to fall down his face.
Minho takes the opportunity and swipes the blade over his arm brutishly, over and over, while Jisung pulls at the door handle and lock frantically. Shallow cuts spit beads of red up onto the surface, while deeper wounds fill white trenches with blood before spilling over onto his arm. He really doesn't have much time here since Jisung could come in at any minute, so he can't think too much about anything that he's doing. He can, however, bask in the momentary bliss of his stinging arm before guilt starts to kick in.
"Minho!" The door bangs roughly, "Minho, please just come out. I'm so worried about you, you know that?" It seems Jisung has changed his tactic to try and make Minho pity him. Admittedly, it is working, but Minho's resolve refrains him from responding. He just wants to play hero, Minho his mind tells him, he doesn't really care. It's okay. Minho continues cutting wounds into his arm, although he's starting to run out of room.
Abruptly, Minho swipes the blade harshly into a wound that was already relatively deep, causing his left hand to weaken its hold on the lock for a moment. Just long enough for Jisung to twist it open and barge the door open. Minho falls back a little on impact, his blade that he had been protecting so stubbornly earlier falling from his hand. He feels so small looking Jisung in the eyes.
"Oh baby," Jisung murmurs, looking sadly at the sight infront of him. His angel of a boyfriend, who is usually so bright and full of life, standing awkwardly with blood cascading down his left arm and staining the fingers of his left hand, while tears from tired eyes flow freely down his face. He knows Minho has struggled in the past, he's seen the scars it had left in his skin, but he's never witnessed it happening. And god, he wishes he'll never have to see it again. Jisung steps forward and encases Minho in a warm embrace, rubbing his back gently with one hand and softly running the other through his hair.
Minho doesn't really return the action, but he presses his face into Jisung's shoulder and sobs. And sobs, and sobs. Minho doesn't know how long the two of them stand there like that, and he doesn't want to. He could stay there forever, and he'd be perfectly happy with that fate.
Unfortunately, that's not really possible, so Jisung eventually pulls away tenderly. "Would you let be clean up for you, jagi?" he asks sweetly.
Minho sniffles, "You don't," he hiccups, "Have to do that." He looks over Jisung's shoulder, too anxious to look him in the eyes.
Jisung looks at him like he's the most precious thing in the whole world. To Jisung, he is. "I know." He pauses for a moment, before stating, "But I want to."
"Okay then," Minho mumbles, "If it's not a burden to you."
Jisung's heart practically shatters on the spot. He has to keep himself together though, for Minho. His sweet, pretty Minho. "You could never be a burden to me, baby," Jisung tells him, placing a soft kiss atop his head, before moving his hands to hold Minho's, guiding him back to the toilet seat and sitting him down. Minho sniffles quietly, hunched in on himself while Jisung crouches down to rummage through their sink's cupboard for a first aid kit. It's been so long since the last time either of them have been injured, and Jisung's heart aches thinking about how much pain Minho must be in right now.
Finally Jisung finds it at the back of the cupboard and pulls it out, knocking a few bottles and whatever else is in that cupboard in the process. He doesn't care, he can fix that later. He places the green-tinted plastic box down on the side of the sink, opening it up and grabbing an antiseptic wipe from it.
"This will sting a little, jagi, I'm sorry," Jisung talks to him calmly while ripping the packet open, "Be brave for me, yeah?"
Minho smiles, fondness evident in the twinkle of his cresent eyes, "I'm not a little kid, you know," he jokes.
"Well I should hope so," Jisung's mouth curls at the corners. "Give me your arm," Jisung holds his hand out for Minho to put his arm there. Minho looks away as he does so. He feels sick at the thought of Jisung seeing him like this at all, never mind caring for him like this. Jisung must pity him, must think he's so weak.
"I'm sorry," Minho apologises while Jisung wipes his arm. He doesn't even flinch at the sting. "I shouldn't be making you deal with this. I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier," his voice starts to wobble as his eyes well up, "I'm really sorry. You don't deserve this." He's crying again now. Yay!
"Hey. You don't have to apologise," Jisung reassures him quietly, "You were upset, it's fine." He tosses the now bloody wipe at the bin (he misses, but whatever) and cups Minho's head with his hands, wiping his tears with his thumbs.
"No, really, I'm sorry. Most people don't have to care for their partners like this. I shouldn't be putting you through this," Minho is completely sobbing now, his body shaking with every sharp breath he takes.
"Jagi..." Jisung eyes flick back and forth between Minho's, his brows furrowed and his lips pressed together. He places his hands on Minho's shoulders and tugs him into a hug. "It's not too much for me, I'm perfectly happy to look after you from time to time. It's totally normal. And I love you, Minho. I don't care about 'most people'. I care about you. Nothing else matters to me. Now let me bandage your arm, okay?"
Minho pulls back. "Okay. I love you."
Jisung's heart melts on the spot. "I love you too, jagi. I always will." He holds his boyfriend's face and pulls their faces together gently, their lips slipping together. The kiss doesn't last long, only a few seconds, but it's full of love and soft care.
Jisung finally picks up a roll of bandages out of the first aid kit after far too much dilly-dallying. "Tell me if it's too tight, yeah?" Minho nods and Jisung takes that as an okay to start wrapping his arm, and that's what he does, before cutting off a piece of microporous tape and securing the bandage. "There you go, all wrapped up like a present," he smiles and pecks Minho's nose. "Let's go to bed now." Jisung picks up his boyfriend's hand and they trudge off back to bed.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Jisung asks him, Minho curled up in his arms, nuzzling his head into Jisung's chest. "It's okay if you just want to sleep for now."
"Can we just sleep? I'm tired."
"Of course baby."
And so that's what they do, Minho feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders while he lies in the arms of his favourite person.