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“Just take it,” Namjoon insisted, frustrated, pushing the kimbap into Jimin’s unwilling fingers. “Jimin, would you just--! I know you haven’t eaten lunch for the past two days, so please just take it!”
His mother was angry with him, and when she got angry, she grew spiteful. Jimin had tried to get her to talk to him, but she wouldn’t answer any of his messages.
“You’re so fucking stubborn!” Namjoon growled, slamming a fist on the table. A few heads in the cafeteria turned in their direction.
Jimin flinched, pulling away from the table and Namjoon’s large hands. I’m sorry he typed, trying to keep his own hands steady.
“Jimin…” Namjoon said weakly. “No, come on…I’m sorry for yelling, I’m just…worried…” he said. “You’re losing weight, and I can see it. I’m scared, okay?”
You? Scared?
“Yeah…” Namjoon said. “How would you feel if I looked like I was going to collapse at any moment? And then I wouldn’t let you help me? That’s what you’re doing. That’s what you’re putting me though.”
I’m sorry, Jimin typed, meeting Namjoon’s eyes helplessly. I’m sorry hyung but I’m not hungry.
Namjoon sighed, staring desolately at the kimbap sitting on the table. “Okay, just…hold on,” he said, putting a hand out. “Wait here, and I’ll be right back, okay?”
Jimin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. As Namjoon walked away, Jimin rested his head on the table, staring at the uneaten food, stomach turning even at the sight of the rice. He really wasn’t hungry. He went through periods like that sometimes, where nothing looked appetizing and he just couldn’t force himself to choke it down. Even when just a few days before, he was starving. His mother would get like that sometimes, too, so he wondered if he got it from her. He didn’t really want anything of hers.
He would have to message his father soon. Maybe his brother, to butter him up first. When it came to his family, his father had always been pretty hands off, but his brother was still far above Jimin on the list of things he cared about it.
Namjoon was scary when he got angry. Jimin shivered. Then again, he should have already known that, considering how they met in the first place. He wondered where both of them would be if Namjoon hadn’t stepped in when he did. Maybe Namjoon would be better off.
His eyes began to drift shut against the warmth of his arms cradling his face, the buzz of conversation drowning his thoughts.
He jerked awake when his phone vibrated under his hand.
Jimin sat up, disoriented, running a hand through his hair. He was alone. He glanced down at the time, frowning. Had he really been asleep for an hour? He swiped open his messages.
Jimin, this is Seokjin. From the Biology lab.
Jimin frowned, confused. Seokjin hyung? How’d u get my number?
I’m at the administration office, I work as a student assistant there. Namjoon’s here, too. He’s not allowed to use his phone, so he asked if I could contact you and tell you to head home first.
What? Why? What’s going on??? Jimin typed worriedly. Why can’t he use his phone???
Umm, Seokjin answered.
Hyung, please, you’re freaking me out! Jimin typed, standing and pushing his chair away with a loud screech.
Look, all I know is he and Min Yoongi are all bloody and being yelled at by the campus police. They both didn’t want you to know that, so don’t say I told you, Seokjin replied.
Jimin quickly threw his bag over his shoulder, practically sprinting through the crowded hallways until he was slamming against the door of the building, looking around wildly to try and remember which direction the administration building was.
Jimin?
Left…left? He was pretty sure it was left. People were giving him strange looks as he breathed heavily, head twisting from left to right as he considered his options.
Jimin are u ok? Answer me please.
Hyung, where is the administration building? Jimin typed.
You’re not coming here, Seokjin replied. Jimin.
Of course he was.
Did…did his hyungs get into a fight? Sure, he knew they didn’t get along very well, but Yoongi had promised to try. And Namjoon…why would Namjoon hurt him? What if they were both hurt? Would he have to pick sides? And at school? Why would they fight at school? What on earth could have—
Jimin, they wouldn’t want you here, Seokjin continued to send him texts.
Jimin frowned, hurt, as he stared down at his phone. They wouldn’t…
He sighed, hand shaking slightly. Well, no one else wanted him there either, but he was there anyway, despite it all. Left it was.
He worked himself into a near-anxiety attack as he checked the placards attached to each campus building on his way. He never had a reason to go to any building other than his department building and the student center. Finally, he came to a stop in front of an ugly square building. Main Office, it read. Jimin looked through the double glass doors nervously.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside, glancing around hesitantly. A woman at the front desk was watching him with an unimpressed expression on her face. Jimin ducked his head, starting to type. Excuse me, but is Seokjin here?
She looked confused as he held his phone out to her before she looked up in realization. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were deaf,” she said loudly, over-emphasizing her words. Jimin smiled weakly as everyone on the floor turned in their direction. People often made that mistaken assumption. She reached for the phone on her desk, dialing an extension. “Jin? There’s someone here asking for you, some weird deaf kid.”
Jimin winced. People said all kinds of things when they thought he couldn’t hear them.
A tall, slim, frazzled body came careening around the corner. “Jimin! I told you not to come!”
I had to make sure they were okay, Jimin typed, chewing on his bottom lip.
Jin sighed. “Come on,” he waved Jimin back. “They’re still being questioned, but they should be done soon. I don’t think anyone’s going to press charges.”
Jimin’s eyes widened. Charges??? Was it that bad??? He held his phone out for Jin to read, but before he could catch Jin’s attention, they were approaching a back room with a chair next to the door. Jimin could see someone moving around behind the small window
The door opened, and Jimin gasped.
Yoongi exited first, his dyed hair mussed and his shirt torn at the shoulder. His knuckles were scabbed and bloody, and the right side of his face was red and swollen. He jerked to a stop as he noticed Jimin’s eyes watching him.
Before Jimin could take a step closer, Namjoon nudged Yoongi to the side from behind, and Jimin’s mouth dropped open even further. If Yoongi was bad, Namjoon was even worse. His eye was blackened, both his bottom lip and right eyebrow split open and just beginning to scab. Jimin was horrified to see the purple bloom of bruises peeking from the collar of his shirt at the neck.
“Jimin…” Namjoon said, the first to break the silence. “What are you—“
Before Jimin knew what he was doing, he was already moving, reaching out both arms to slam his small hands against their shoulders. He was so angry that he couldn’t even think to type, glaring at both of them until they were forced to look away. Why? he mouthed, raising his hands to hit them again.
“Yah, I’m sore,” Yoongi complained, moving out of the way, but Namjoon took the hit, brow furrowing.
“Jimin, I think they’ve had enough for one day,” Seokjin said gently, putting a hand between Jimin’s shoulder blades.
Jimin jumped backwards in reflex, his heart skipping. Namjoon reached out a hand to steady him, making sure he saw it first. “Don’t touch him where he can’t see you coming,” Namjoon said lowly.
Jimin wrenched himself from Namjoon’s side, raising his phone, but he was only able to stare at the screen as his thoughts raced with fury.
“Hey,” Namjoon said in that voice that Jimin was all too familiar with. “Everything’s okay. Just take your time.”
Jimin hissed in frustration. He needed to know. Y wre u fightin he typed, nearly shoving his phone into Namjoon’s bruised face.
Namjoon’s gaze dropped to the floor as he said nothing.
Jimin turned on his heel and stomped over to a stony-faced Yoongi, shoving the phone in his face as well.
“Yah,” Yoongi grumbled, pushing Jimin’s hand away. “I didn’t start it, that was all engineer.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Namjoon growled. “You damn well know it wasn’t me!”
“Settle down, you two,” a uniformed officer said, stepping from the room. “I just let you go and you’re already acting up again? Did you want to spend the night in jail?” He glanced at Jimin and Seokjin. “Can I help you?”
Jimin froze, shaking his head apprehensively.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you look so nervous, kid? Got something to hide?”
“He’s just worried about us,” Namjoon said, stepping in between the man’s line of sight and Jimin. “Look, we’re going, alright?” he said, turning to usher Jimin and Seokjin from the room, Yoongi trailing behind.
“I’m sorry I left you alone for so long,” Namjoon said as he pushed the doors open.
Jimin was confused for a moment before he remembered falling asleep what felt like so long ago. I dnt care about that hy were u fighting he typed furiously.
Namjoon sighed, glancing over at Yoongi, who’d crossed his arms over his chest.
Was it about me? Jimin typed, more slowly.
Seokjin was looking at all of them warily. “Look, we should probably go before they let Donghyun’s group go, too.”
Jimin reared his head back in surprise. He looked wildly between Namjoon and Yoongi, who visibly stiffened at Seokjin’s words. You mean you didn’t fight each other? He held the screen out to Namjoon insistently.
Namjoon huffed. “No, we didn’t fight each other. Was that why you were so mad?”
Of course I was fcking mad!!!! Jimin said, mouth twisting into a grimace that quickly retracted. WHAT HAPPENED he demanded.
“…let’s go sit down,” Yoongi finally said. “I know a place.”
They huddled awkwardly around the small table, Seokjin smiling sympathetically at the waitress who served glasses of water over the tense atmosphere. Seokjin and Yoongi sat on one side, Namjoon and Jimin on the other, both pairs brushing shoulders as the chairs were squeezed together.
Explain, Jimin typed.
Namjoon opened his mouth, hesitating. “I…I went to get you a smoothie,” he said, picking up the water glass to press it tentatively against his forehead.
Seokjin grabbed a napkin and soaked it in his water, twisting slightly to dab at Yoongi’s face. Yoongi grimaced but didn’t push him away.
“I thought, I don’t know, if you couldn’t eat, then I could at least try to get you some calories that way,” he shrugged.
“Oh, Jimin, is something wrong?” Seokjin said immediately, reaching across the table to fuss with Jimin’s hands.
Jimin slowly pulled away in order to type. Just not feeling well, he said, glancing over at Namjoon and ignoring the suddenly intense flash from Yoongi.
“When I was on my way back, they jumped me,” Namjoon said, shaking his head. “I was stupid for not realizing it. One of them called for help, and I just…without thinking, I followed the voice.”
Jimin nodded. It was the kind of person that he was.
“And then they were everywhere, I guess. I’m pretty strong and big, but even I can’t take down, what, six or seven people by myself when they get me from behind.”
Jimin glanced over at Yoongi, who met his gaze steadily.
“I heard the fighting,” he said gruffly. “I was sleeping by a window, and it woke me up.” He shrugged.
“And you saved my ass,” Namjoon said, begrudgingly.
“Yeah, and look what it got me,” Yoongi muttered. “My face is gonna’ look like a fucking balloon tomorrow.”
I’m sorry, Jimin typed, head hanging low.
“What for?” Namjoon said, sounding genuinely puzzled.
He wouldn’t have come after you if not for me, Jimin typed.
“He came after me because he’s a piece of shit,” Namjoon said.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but fuck yes, I agree with engineer, he’s a piece of shit,” Yoongi said. “He’s always been a piece of shit.”
“I agree too,” Seokjin added.
“Maybe he’s using you as an excuse, but Donghyun’ll always be a waste of a human being,” Yoongi continued. “He’s probably got a grudge against anyone who won’t fall at his feet. He’s just extra pissed that you won’t.”
Why because I’m weak? Jimin typed, huffing.
“No, because you’re strong,” Namjoon said, reading as Jimin’s fingers pressed the screen. “Anyway, it was his word against ours, and they can’t exactly verify the story, so they’ll probably just let them go, too.”
“That’s probably the best outcome, honestly,” Seokjin sighed. “He usually just gets his way because he can pay for it. You’re lucky he didn’t get them to pin the whole thing on you.”
Do you know him? More? Jimin typed, showing his screen to Jin.
“We’ve always been at the same schools,” Seokjin shrugged. “And he’s always been this way. Causing trouble and then buying his way out of it.”
“Well, he pissed off the wrong person this time,” Namjoon said darkly.
“People,” Yoongi grunted.
The corner of Seokjin’s mouth curled upwards.
Jimin sighed, unable to stop himself from leaning forward and letting his head thud against the table.
“Hey, Jimin,” Namjoon said, waiting for Jimin to raise his head again. “You still haven’t eaten, right?”
Jimin shrugged, looking down guiltily.
I fell asleep when u left, Jimin admitted, cheeks tinged red.
“Bubble tea,” Yoongi said.
“What?” Namjoon said.
“He likes bubble tea,” Yoongi said.
Jimin watched, confused, as Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.
“So,” Namjoon said.
Jimin looked up curiously. They were spread across his couch, their respective books and papers and computers making a mess of the living room.
“What’s…what’s the deal with you and Yoongi?” Namjoon asked, not meeting Jimin’s questioning gaze.
Jimin tilted his head, brow furrowed.
“You know, I mean he’s…” Namjoon floundered. “He acts like…”
Jimin tilted his head the other way.
“Fuck,” Namjoon muttered. “What I mean is, does he…like you?”
Jimin’s eyes widened before he snorted, doubling over to hide his mouth in his hand, shoulders quaking.
“What? It’s not that stupid!” Namjoon said.
Jimin squinted one eye.
“I’m serious!” Namjoon pouted. “Why does he know the things you like when I don’t?”
Jimin looked around for a moment, shifting papers and pillows until he finally found his phone under his art history textbook. You could always just ask me, silly, Jimin typed. Yoongi and I spent months pretty much around the clock together when he had a huge project. He knows me because he didn’t have a choice. Just like I know he has a weakness for stuffed animals.
Namjoon’s frown deepened as he read the message. “But that…” he sighed, looking away.
Jimin reached out to rest a hand on Namjoon’s knee, looking at him imploringly.
“It’s just…I want to know everything. I want to know more than he does. I want to be more important than him. To you.”
Jimin blinked, surprised. He pulled his hand back to type. It’s not a competition.
Namjoon smiled wryly. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just know that I don’t like it when he says things about you like he…like he’s an expert. I want to be the Jimin expert. Just me.”
Jimin blushed, startled. He didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Sorry,” Namjoon immediately backtracked. “That’s creepy. I know, I…”
Don’t…put me on a pedestal. I’m not…You always look at me like I’m up high somewhere. I’m right here on earth with you.
Namjoon took his time reading the message. “Sorry,” he shook his head. “I know that. I don’t mean to,” he said quietly, looking over at Jimin. He reached out, making sure Jimin saw what he was doing, before letting the tips of his fingers trace the scarring covering Jimin’s right knee, sending a shiver up Jimin’s spine. “I guess I just…you’re so good, Jimin. And I feel…not good, in comparison. Like I’m not…” he shook his head.
What? Jimin mouthed.
“Not worthy, I guess,” Namjoon shrugged, embarrassed. “It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my head,” he said.
Jimin shifted, moving the books from around him.
“What—“ Namjoon said.
Jimin crawled forward to wrap his arms around Namjoon’s neck, pulling him in for a tight hug.
Namjoon stiffened before sighing, melting into Jimin’s hold. Jimin squeezed one last time before leaning back, cupping Namjoon’s face in his hands. You. Are. Good. Jimin mouthed carefully. He leaned in, ever so slowly, to brush his lips, feather-light, against Namjoon’s. He could feel Namjoon’s muscles tense, as though fighting to stay still. You. Are. Jimin paused, thinking. Strength.
“Me?” Namjoon said, staring at Jimin as though he was hypnotized.
My strength, Jimin mouthed.
“You’re being…really unfair,” Namjoon whined. He lifted his arms, fingers twitching. “Can I touch your hair?” he asked softly.
Jimin nodded, following the path of Namjoon’s fingers as they moved to rest on top of his head, carding the strands. It felt really nice.
“So small,” Namjoon said, amused.
Jimin frowned.
“So cute,” Namjoon said, chuckling.
Jimin punched him in the shoulder.
Namjoon only smiled wider.
“What’s your favorite color?” Namjoon asked.
Sky, Jimin mouthed.
“Favorite member of Shinhwa?”
Jimin grinned. Minwoo
“Favorite food?”
Meat.
“Favorite…hyung…?”
Jin hyung, Jimin grinned cheekily.
Namjoon frowned.
Jimin rolled his eyes, poking him in the chest. You.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Namjoon sulked.
Jimin’s smile faltered, and he glanced away. Namjoon sat up straighter, taking his hand from Jimin’s head to slot it between Jimin’s fingers. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. When I look at your face, I know what you’re trying to tell me. You don’t have to talk. You don’t ever have to talk if you don’t want to. I like you, however you are. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
It was so sincere that Jimin felt a little like crying.
He reached blindly behind him for his phone.
No one’s…ever… Jimin swallowed. They all try and fix me.
“You don’t need fixing,” Namjoon said fiercely.
Jimin looked down at his trembling hands. He wasn’t so sure about that.
But it wasn’t his voice that was the problem.