Nobody Knows | Jeon Jungkook

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Taehyung

"Oh, shit!"

I curse under my breath as Jungkook's eyes roll back and his legs give up their strength. On another occasion, I would think that the lack of sleep from the last few days just sent his body into dreamland, but I know for sure that's not the case.

I quickly rush to him, the small distance between us allowing that, and I grab him by his arm to avoid his limp body from hitting the hard floor. But I somehow fail.

Jungkook is as heavy as a fucking muscle pig, even though he hasn't eaten properly in days. Since when I've been so alert, I don't know myself, but it doesn't matter right now. I groan as his body is now half on the floor and I hold his right arm in the air, causing his forehead to rest against the marble flooring.

I glare at the man with the now dark hair in front of me because it doesn't look like he wants to help me with my struggle anytime soon.

"Can you maybe help instead of staring?" I huff, letting go of Jungkook's arm which then hits the floor with a thud. I wince because that's probably going to bruise.

He was laughing, but with my angry scowl, he realizes that we should probably pick Jungkook up rather than leave him face down on the ground. He's just as broad, a little taller than Jungkook and I, but so much clumsier.

I grimace as he tries to grab Jungkook by the arm and pull him up, but he causes him to hit his head on the chair next to him instead. Jungkook's limp body falls back to the floor. Yeah.

"I think you've done enough damage to his brain. I don't think you should add concussion to that." I comment with a sigh as I help him pick up the pounds of muscle from the floor.

"How is it my fault?" his deep voice rises an octave or two as he lets go of Jungkook's arm to pout and I almost fall on top of Jungkook, who regrettably hits his face on the marble again.

I punch him in the chest, getting annoyed because he is anything but help. "Last time he checked, you were unalived. I think it's normal for him to pass out after seeing you standing behind him, Namjoon."

I knew something like that would happen. After all, it's not every day that you wake up from the dead.

Maybe it's kind of my fault for not telling Jungkook gently before, and I don't know if he'll ever recover from the trauma, but it is what it is. I hadn't had exactly the right mind to tell him.

"Now help me carry this guy to the chairs," I say, already leaning down to pick up Jungkook.

Namjoon and I struggle because we don't know exactly where to hold him and because it feels like he weighs a ton. We both press our lips into a straight line as grunts and groans echo in the hall as we elevate Jungkook to lay him across the two chairs pressed against the wall.

"How much does he weigh?" I exhale, breaking out in a sweat because the job was harder than I had hoped. But we are successful and Jungkook is now lying unconscious on the chairs with one leg hanging down.

"I've always heard him doing exercises, what do you expect?" Namjoon chuckles sarcastically, clearly thinking back to when the two were dorm neighbors.

"Doing exercises, or doing Irina?" I add my two cents, thinking that I actually said it low enough, but I hear Namjoon's face scrunch up.

"I luckily died before they could get to the stage where they fucked like bunnies everywhere and at all times, so I only heard them once. And that was already too much."