𝙲𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜 & 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 || 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚐𝚒

Nodus Tollens

Yoongi's mother was at work while his father was probably lying in some bar, drunk his ass off.

Now, Yoongi was changing Namjoon's bandages. As soon as the school was over, he forced Namjoon to his house for reapplying his bandages. And he asked for the ones who this to him several times but he kept silent.

They were in his room, Namjoon on his bed while Yoongi was on the floor.

"Open the buttons, Namjoon."

It was a simple instruction. Yet somehow, Namjoon somehow had the urge to tell Yoongi to look away. It's okay, they were both guys. He slowly opened his shirt, wanting to crawl away and hide when he fell Yoongi's gaze.

Yoongi wanted to look away, but he couldn't and it was kind of frustrating that he didn't have the answer. It felt weird in his chest.

Namjoon cleared his throat and Yoongi broke out of his trance.

"Hm? Oh yeah! Ju-Just wait."

Fuck. He was staring.

It didn't take him long to come back with the necessary items and start bandaging. Yoongi tried his level best to not let his eyes stray on the the tanned skin as he slowly wrapped the bandage around his torso.

The wounds were horrible. There was a huge bruise on his chest and several others on his stomach that even breathing was difficult. The side of his torso still had some dried blood sticking to it since the nurse couldn't clean it without Namjoon crying out or biting his lips so hard that it bled.
His face was so swollen on the left that Yoongi could practically feel the pain on his own face.

"You know you can tell me who did this to you, right?" Yoongi spoke up, breaking the loud silence.

"I know."

"Why aren't you telling me, Namjoon?"

Namjoon was silent. Yoongi's own gaze didn't move from his face, searching for something, anything. They didn't talk about what happened on the rooftop. The younger wasn't ready and Yoongi didn't push him further.

"Namjoon—"

"I can't... I'm scared." Namjoon's voice was quiet, as if it wasn't meant to be heard by him.

"I can help you, Namjoon. I'll take care of those bastards who did this to you."

"Hyung, please! You're not my rehab. Even if someone didn't do this to me, I doubt I wouldn't have ended up on the rooftop. Please don't direct you mental and emotional energy on fixing something that's broken. I was conscious of everything when I chose to do that." By the end of it, Namjoon was panting. The only sound that could be heard was the whirring of the fan.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you so desperate to help me, hyung?" Namjoon asked quietly, his voice laced with so much vulnerability.

Yoongi wanted to state so many reasons, as he saw his hands twitching to hold Namjoon's; how much he adored Namjoon's dimples when he smiled in awe. His instincts told him to fight for protecting his clumsy self that stumbled into the library each day. He wanted to say so many things, that how lovely he was for selflessly giving his position as class president, and how kind he was for being ready to help everyone at every moment. Yoongi wanted to thank Namjoon for lending him his notes.

"I don't know."

Namjoon just sighed, letting Yoongi's hands engulf his own.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

"Shibal! Shibal—Shibal, shibal, shibal, shibal!" The wooden door finally cracked at his the repeated punches. Beomseok let out a loud sound of frustration.