tw: violence

It’s early when Jimin wakes up, earlier than it should be.  Jimin doesn’t have anyone in particular to blame.

Namjoon’s room is furthest away from his, and his snores have yet to travel through the two doors and hallway necessary to reach Jimin’s ears.  Hoseok snores too softly for the noises to leave the living room, and Jimin can’t remember whether or not Jungkook snores, but in any case, no snores have roused him from his sleep.  There's only one person to blame: himself.

He feels well rested, but that stems more from his exhaustion from attending Jungkook’s dance competition than anything else.  He went to sleep emotionally and physically exhausted, but also, proud of himself for facing his fears in order to support Jungkook.  He fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillows.

He would have thought that going to sleep exhausted would only make him want to sleep for that much longer, but here he is lying away, staring at the blades of his motionless ceiling fan.  He really feels like there isn’t a single reason as to why he’s awake at that very moment.  It’s baffling to think that he is just awake for the sake of being awake as his mind tries to work through the lingering remnants of sleep to figure out why his eyes are wide open.

His final conclusion is one that isn’t of much surprise anymore, but still delightful to his love-addled mind, he sees Yoongi today.  It’s amazing how one semi-compliment has gone straight to his head.  That’s the nature of crushes though, interpreting and analyzing small flattering comments in such a way that leads to the desired outcome regardless of previous behaviors or comments to the contrary.  Jimin doesn’t have the luxury of knowing whether or not Yoongi looks away while blushing when he sees Jimin.  All he has are the words that Yoongi lets slip past his lips, managing to climb the walls that guard Yoongi’s heart.

It’s much easier for him to analyze small pieces of conversation and gestures now that he has accepted his own feelings toward Yoongi.  He doesn’t know whether or not he should be obvious in hinting at his feelings; if he got rejected, he would never see it coming.

Jimin rolls off of his bed, landing on his feet for the first time in a while.  He has quite a bit of time before he needs to go into work.  He quietly walks on the balls of his feet, making his way to the kitchen in stealth mode.  He nearly dies when he rounds the corner into the kitchen, and there’s a person standing there with a spoon in his mouth.  Hoseok is awake and eating ice cream at the crack of dawn.

“You scared me.” Jimin whisper-scolded as he hits Hoseok in the shoulder with an open hand.

Hoseok whines quietly, “Let me wallow.”

Jimin sighs, skirting around Hoseok to grab a banana off of the counter, “Maybe you should call her or something.  I’m not a relationship expert or anything, but neither of you can read minds so say what you need to say.”

“Why is everyone giving me marriage advice?” Hoseok complains, taking another spoonful of the ice cream and shoving it into his mouth.

“You are crashing on our couch.” Jimin hisses, walking back toward his room with his banana in his hand.  Once he settles back onto his bed, he peels the yellow fruit quickly, sinking his teeth into the soft, pale flesh while thinking about relationships.  He sighs, too caught up in Hoseok’s stubbornness to actually enjoy his breakfast.

Jimin wonders if he should be cleaning at the moment.  He hopes the fact that he has been sent out on an errand that it still counts as him doing his job; (the minute details of his employment contract evade him at the moment).  Yoongi’s voice was very genuine when he told Jimin to go to the store and pick up his new notebook.

Jimin trusts that it’s urgent; after all, he and Yoongi have made serious progress.  As he walks to the specific store to pick up Yoongi’s specific order, he has his order receipt for pick up.  He does think that it’s odd; Yoongi is never not home.  Jimin’s superficial thought is quickly filed away once he arrives at the supply store that he’s supposed to be at.

Jimin pushes the door inward as a small bell chimes at his entrance.  The inside is something akin to a niche arts and craft store.  He figures that he should do his business as quickly as possible.

He makes a beeline for the cashier that has paint splattered all over his shirt and jeans.  “How may I help you?” He asks with slight confusion and minimal interest.

“I’m picking up an order for Min Yoongi.” Jimin speaks lowly, almost on the verge of a whisper as he slides the receipt toward the cashier.

“Oh.” The cashier’s confusion is blatant as he looks at the receipt, “You’re not Seokjin.”  He turns around rummaging for a bit before pulling a prepared bag from a hidden nook behind a display of fountain pens. He clears his throat, offering the bag to Jimin, “Are you Yoongi's… flavor of the week?”

Jimin is about to respond when the cashier shakes his head, “What am I saying?  He would have to leave the house for anything like that to be remotely plausible.  You must be the help or something…  Maybe you’re his muse!  He’s been writing a lot more lately…”

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond anymore, so he doesn’t do anything other than blush, practically running out of store as soon as the bag in his hands.  He doesn’t know why his cheeks are burning at the cashier’s comments.  If he’s Yoongi’s muse, what does that mean for their relationship?  Jimin doesn’t know if he’s using the word “relationship” correctly given the context of their interactions.  He considers Yoongi to be more than just an employer (obviously).

Jimin manages to spend the entire walk back to Yoongi’s house, thinking about (more like dissecting) the possible variations of interpreting his interactions with Yoongi.  He forgets about the dismissive comments of the cashier regarding Yoongi’s dating life (or lack thereof).  He doesn’t manage to dredge up questions about why Yoongi never leaves his house.

Jimin quietly reenters his workplace/Yoongi’s living space, trying to remain as stealth as possible in case Yoongi is working in the living room.  Jimin tiptoes past the foyer, leaning around the corner in an almost exaggerated way to find that Yoongi is not sitting on his couch.  Jimin straightens up, realizing that Yoongi is in one of his mysterious rooms.  (Well one of the mysterious rooms is his bedroom; Jimin is still in the dark about the other room.)

Jimin sets the bag of assorted materials on the kitchen counter.  Jimin checks the clock, calculating the amount of time left he has before leaving for the day.  Jimin frowns; how did his day pass by so quickly without him even realizing it?  Disappointment floods his chest as he resumes his daily duties with a heavy heart.

He resists the urge to pout; he doesn’t need to spend every possible minute with Yoongi.  That would negatively affect his job, and it might potentially get him fired for neglecting duties if he spent the entire workday ogling over his crush.  (Knowing himself, Jimin fears that he would be obvious in his admiration.)

Jimin walks over to the supply closet (as he has dubbed it because that’s where the vacuum and feather duster are), pulling out the duster, figuring that he’ll just sweep tomorrow rather than try to cram an hour’s worth into half an hour.  He sighs heavily as his fingers wrap about the rubberized handle of the feather duster.

He walks toward the living room with the sound of his house shoes clacking against the hardwood floor.  He borrows a chair from the dining room, trying to quietly drag it into the living so that he could use it as a makeshift ladder as he usually does. The chair has other ideas; its legs scrape against the floor with an obnoxious amount of noise, causing Jimin to cringe until he finally puts it in place.

Jimin stands on the chair with the feather duster gripped tightly in his hand as he begins to dust his least favorite portions of the house.

Today, however, Jimin makes a miscalculation in regards to the distance to the corner and where he placed the chair.  He has to extend further than usual, placing his weight on mostly one side of the chair.  He can feel the chair wobble as the tips of the gray feathers brush against the trouble spot, catching the tiniest dust particles.  Jimin initially thinks that he’ll be able to keep his balance; that is until he moves his wrist.  Somehow the smallest movement throws off Jimin’s entire balance, and with one final wobble, the chair topples over, brining Jimin crashing down onto the ground with a loud and painful thud.

Jimin lands on his side with his ribs and hip taking the brunt of pain.  He takes in a sharp breath, trying to breath calmly instead of crying to make the shooting pain go away.  He doesn’t even realize how much noise he’s made while falling until Yoongi literally slides up next to him, immediately falling to his knees.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks with an intense amount of panic in his voice; the kind of panic that stems from worrying and caring about a person.

Jimin tries to answer, only to end up whimpering in response.  Yoongi huffs audibly, gently pulling Jimin into sitting position.  Yoongi takes Jimin’s face in his hands, not seeming to notice the implications of his well-meaning actions as Jimin's cheeks burn.  Yoongi searches Jimin’s face for visible wounds, looking into his eyes to search for any deeper signs of pain or maybe a concussion.   One of his hands falls away from Jimin’s face to gently flit down Jimin’s side, pressing lightly to see how much pain it might cause.

When Jimin winces, Yoongi shakes his head, “Let’s take you to the hospital.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Jimin quietly protests, sure that his bumps and bruises don’t warrant an expensive trip to the hospital.  (Which is a relief because hospitals are one of his least favorite places on the planet.)

Jimin misses the frown on Yoongi’s face as he pushes off of the floor, managing to get back on his feet with only the slightest of wobbles.  Yoongi spots it immediately extending his hands to offer Jimin support as he stands up himself.

Jimin offers a weak smile, taking a step forward only to fall in Yoongi’s arms because the pain is a little more than he was expecting.  He doesn’t know exactly how Yoongi managed to maneuver himself to catch him perfect.  He’s keenly aware of Yoongi’s hands and the way they touch his lower back, heating his skin without even trying.  Jimin slowly looks up as he straightens up, bringing himself even closer to Yoongi in the process.

He locks eyes with Yoongi, and his breath catches.  He can smell Yoongi’s after shave, but that’s not really why he can’t breathe.  It’s not even the fact that their lips are closer than they’ve ever been before.  It’s hard to breath because Yoongi has very beautiful eyes, and Jimin can tell.

There’s nothing he can compare them too, but for a moment, he thinks that he’d be able to recognize Yoongi’s eyes anywhere.  Right at that very moment, Yoongi’s pupils are wider than they would usually be, but Jimin doesn’t know that.

He does notice the fact that Yoongi inches forward slowly instead of trying to disentangle their limbs.  It’s the smallest of movements, but Jimin can feel it.  It makes his mind go all over the place.  Jimin’s body simply adjusts to welcoming incoming lips while his mind tries to process the situation.  It takes several bated breaths before Yoongi’s lips finally, finally press against Jimin’s.  His eyes flutter shut at the pressure of the kiss.

It’s not Jimin’s first kiss, but it puts all of his other experiences to shame.  Yoongi’s lips aren't necessarily the softest in the world, but they fit against Jimin’s so perfectly that it's almost unreal.  The slightest movement from Yoongi’s lips burns into Jimin’s brain; Yoongi is kissing him.

Jimin can feel the corners of his lips rising up.  It’s perhaps the most innocent of kisses in the world; it’s a simple relay of passing a kiss between them without feeling the need to taste each other.

Yoongi pulls away first, slowly withdrawing his hands from Jimin’s body, “It’s good that you’re okay.” He whispers; it’s almost as thought if he speaks in his normal tone of voice, all his feelings will be betrayed.  “Have a safe trip home.”

When Jimin finally opens his eyes again, Yoongi isn’t standing there anymore.  He knows that Yoongi has returned to his room; he’s fine with it, even though he wishes that Yoongi had stayed.

Jimin looks at the clock, frowning, somehow it’s already midnight in his Cinderella story.

Jimin practically giggles all the way home, even though he doesn’t exactly know where he stands with Yoongi, it doesn’t matter.  Yoongi likes him too.

___
 

Jungkook is hanging out with Namjoon, sort of.  Well, Namjoon is hanging out with Jungkook because he asked if he could watch one of their practices. 

Jungkook is happy either way because it means that Namjoon is showing interest in his hobbies.  It also means that Namjoon has 100% buried the hatchet in terms of his negative feelings toward Hoseok.

Jungkook is walking with Namjoon and Hoseok as they make their way back home.  Namjoon is chattering excitedly about how interesting it is to watch Hoseok tweak and fine-tune routines.  (He watched one of their newer routines that Hoseok was still fiddling around with.)  Hoseok is actively engaging Namjoon in conversation, going so far as to use his hands as a crude demonstrative tool.

Jungkook is slightly behind the pair; chuckling to himself as Namjoon tries an arm movement that Hoseok walked him through.  It’s awkward and touching at the same time.  It manages to distract him from the fact that Taehyung didn’t come to practice.  He’s a little bit worried, but it’s not as though Taehyung is obligated to report his every move to Jungkook.

He quietly snickers behind them, causing Namjoon to glare back at him with narrowing eyes that send a clear message not to make fun of him.  Jungkook thinks that telling Namjoon he’s cute is an even more dangerous prospect, so he tucks his lips behind his teeth, applying a gentle pressure to keep his lips sealed.

Hoseok snorts, “Namjoon, you’re doing great.  Ignore the young’un over there, I’ll make a dancer out of you yet.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.” Namjoon’s voice is genuinely appreciative with a hint of sass to foreshadow his next comment, “Some people just don’t like to watch others improve.”

Jungkook coughs to cover a laugh that has managed to escape from his throat.  He’s about to continue their playful volley of quips, but he notices a black hoodie in the corner of his eye.  It’s the same one that he saw earlier when they began their trek home.  It’s been following them, but that’s not what concerning.  The number of hoodies has increased since he last checked.  There are five now.

There’s a deeply unsettling feeling in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach as two of the hoodies begin to pick up their pace.  “Guys.  Someone is following us.” Jungkook whispers.

“Wow. Paranoid much?” Hoseok giggles, not really grasping the panic lacing Jungkook’s voice.

Namjoon comes to a stop as the first hoodie stops in front of them.  They are soon surrounded by people in hoodies with medical masks covering their faces to further impede identification despite the time of day and poor lighting.  Jungkook feels dread pooling in his stomach; most of the shops on the street are closed with iron gates protecting sleeping stores.  There’s no one to stop the people that clearly have bad intentions.  They are cornered, and Jungkook doesn’t even have time to gasp in shock once the first punch is thrown.

Knuckles come down hard on Jungkook’s face as a fist punches across Jungkook’s face with a sickening thud.  The inside of his cheek scrapes against his teeth, tearing at the soft flesh.  The taste of iron blood fills Jungkook’s mouth as he stumbles, clutching as his cheek explodes in pain.

He watches as two of the attackers take Hoseok on, kneeing him in the gut to make him crumple to the ground.  Namjoon gets kicked in the chest, sending him stumbling against the iron gate of a closed shop.

Jungkook raises his hands to form fists in response to his initial blow, swinging wide and missing the nimble attacker who skirts around him to kick the back of Jungkook’s legs.  Jungkook cries out in pain as he falls to his knees with a great deal of force.  He uses his hands to brace himself against the rough concrete of the sidewalk, inflicting stinging scrapes on the heels of his palms.

Someone kicks him in the ribs, forcing him to cough, splattering his blood mixed with spit against the sidewalk.  Namjoon manages to punch the person who’s trying to dispatch him, sending the attacker stumbling down to the ground.

Jungkook has curled up into fetal position as a means of self-defense by the time Namjoon pushes the people beating him up away from Jungkook.  “Run Jungkook!” Namjoon commands as he forces Jungkook to his feet.

Jungkook is wobbly as he tries to get away, stumbling slightly and looking back as Hoseok elbows one of the hooded figures in the face.  Namjoon nods in encouragement before taking down someone that tries to hit Hoseok’s knee with a two-by-four.

Jungkook lets his fear drive him away, knowing that Namjoon will take care of Hoseok.  He runs in the opposite direction, ignoring the bruises that are forming and all of the pain that threatens to bring him down.  He runs back toward the building where his practice room is.  He’s almost back to the building when he sees Taehyung.  Taehyung’s face contorts in worry, and Jungkook just grabs his wrist and drags him into running instead of explaining.  He only manages to stop running once they are standing in the empty practice room where there are mirrors in which Jungkook can see himself.

He falls to the ground, beginning to hyperventilate.

a/n: hi~ it's been a while.  For that I am sorry.  i'm busy and tired and i was sick for a little bit, but i've got  some super awesome people in my corner.
i don't have much to say, but i did get a poster. admire it. love it. because i do.  thanks Inspirious.
sorry for mistakes/missed words.
please please please comment.
thanks for subscribing and upvoting if you've done so.
thanks for reading.
i will answer questions, unless it's going to be answered in the next chapter.
much love from your very tired author who's still kinda working through the feeling icky portion of being sick.