Better Than Tears (sweeter than sleep)

So dark without you

The first thing Jungkook did when he woke up the next day was to snuggle himself deeper in the warmth that was...Taehyung? He brushed an arm over the space that Jimin had occupied previously. In his groggy state, he only thought about staying in his little nest of body heat, so he tucked himself into Taehyung's side and didn't think much of it, expecting to fall back asleep even as the older boy burrowed his face into his hair and wrapped an arm about his waist.

Unfortunately, that action nudged him further toward wakefulness instead of sleep. When he realized that he was now trapped against Taehyung, his mind did the only thing it was good for: panicking. Because heaven forbid he should ever encounter a situation that most others would find comforting and nice and not panic instead.

Jungkook kept himself very still and begged his heart to calm down, it was only Taehyung, he was safe and okay and really did not need to be freaking out right now. Really. His head knew that that he was safe, but it had always taken his body a longer time to realize things, hence why his anxiety attacks always lasted so long. He knew he was trembling. His legs felt restless and he had an urge to pull at his hair and really, really wanted to bit his lip, but didn't want to bleed on Jimin's pillows. That would be an awful way to pay back all this generosity. His eyes shut themselves of their own accord, maybe in an attempt to persuade himself that he was safe, he was safe, he was safe.

"Just stop," he whimpered breathlessly into Taehyung's shirt, unaware of just how tightly he was gripping the fabric of it until a hand came up to cover his own.

He opened his eyes to see sleepy, chocolate orbs blinking back at him. He blinked back, fingers still wrapped in t-shirt. Taehyung just looked at him for a few moments, his eyes gradually focusing. Jungkook was unable to look away, not wanting to disappoint, not wanting to leave the sanctuary those chocolate eyes provided. He took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly, hoping to match his heartbeat to the calm one he felt under his palm.

"Jungkookie," Taehyung murmured after a while.

He didn't even really know this guy, but he still was willing to hug him and cuddle him, he called him a pet name without hesitation. Jungkook knew he didn't deserve any of it, but was so immensely grateful anyway.

Taehyung sighed, more a sleepy breath than anything else, the hot air blowing Jungkook's bangs away from his forehead. He squeezed the hand on his chest once, then moved it to run through the younger's hair. "Jungkookie," he said again, like he was tasting the word on his tongue just for the sweetness of it. "Go back to sleep, Kookie, you still look exhausted. Do you want me to stay with you?"

"You want t-to stay with me," Jungkook answered shyly, turning his head into the pillow in embarrassment.

A low, warm chuckle from Taehyung told him it was received with pleasure, that he hadn't been too forward. "Well, yeah, a cozy bed, a snuggle buddy, Jimin's at the gym and there's probably breakfast in the fridge, there's no need to get up just yet. So go to sleep."

The even breathing of the older a couple minutes later was a clear indication that Taehyung had fallen asleep again. Jungkook, however exhausted he still looked, was decidedly wide awake.

Of course.

--

Extricating himself from Taehyung's warmth was easier than he expected. The other snoozed on, not noticing the way Jungkook slowly slipped backwards across the bed until he reached the edge and could get up without making the mattress dip too close to his companion. Jungkook grimaced at the stiffness in his knee and hips, but the pain level was far down from the previous day and he barely limped as he made his way over to the door. He found his jeans folded neatly beside it, obviously freshly washed. Jimin was too kind to him.

He remembered that he was supposed to bring his phone so that Jimin knew his number, though why he would want it was beyond him. Still, he found a pen and sticky note on the desk in the room and wrote down his number, just so he was keeping to the request. Jimin's smiling request. Jimin was too kind to him.

The thought of skipping out on him without so much as a "thank you" made him feel like a coward, but he just couldn't trespass on his generosity anymore. It was too much. He wanted it, sure, but it was too much, no matter how kind anybody was. Jimin deserved to get something in return besides more panic attacks and tears and some wounded stranger stealing his bed. Besides, he had Taehyung to keep him company. He didn't need that shy, awkward kid who only caused accidents wherever he went. He didn't need him.

Nobody needed him.

He needed everybody, and that just wasn't fair.

After changing into his jeans and washing his face, Jungkook crept to the front door where his boots sat near the mat and his coat was hanging from a peg. He put them on and spared the house one last glance in repressed remorse before leaving the comforting warmth of ahome to go back to his dorm, which really, really, wasn't a home.

But it was all he had.

--

In retrospect, Jungkook knew he'd probably misjudged Jimin at least a little bit. Nothing in the older actions or speech had showed the tiniest hint that he was put out by Jungkook's problems or unwilling to alleviate them. He'd opened up his house, his bed, shared his food, talked to him, cuddled him, and Jungkook couldn't imagine that he'd do all that if he wasn't totally willing. Maybe he really was just a kind soul who didn't deserve a mess of a person like himself, nor a thankless goodbye like he'd just pulled.

Jungkook didn't look back, though. He limped out of the apartment, through the parking lot, across the street, down the path to his dormitory and let himself inside, only stopping to breathe when the door of his own room shut behind him.

And then it was a long, long breath. And a few more, and several more after that, partly from the exertion, but mostly from trying not to cry. He supposed it was a bit of a miracle that he didn't cry upon waking up. It was a miracle he was only breathing like his life depended on it, no, that made sense. Ah, that made sense. Jungkook clung to the sense of it, the sense of breathing, that breathing was normal and he'd been in the cold and his jeans were chafing at his scrapes, of course he'd be breathing a little heavily and wincing some for good measure. There was reality in that.

There was reality in that.

Jungkook felt the carpet under his cheek before he realized he was actually lying on the floor. He pressed his hands against it, hissing as his palms cried out under their bandages. He ignored it. It wasn't like he didn't know how to deal with pain. It was funny, he mused, pushing himself up from the floor and staggering to the bathroom. After only two days, he'd entrusted so much of himself to complete strangers. He'd broken down in front of them and he'd been comforted. He hadn't been as scared or as lost as he usually was because there was someone there to keep him from falling.

But he'd left. And now as he stared at his reflection, Jungkook knew that on his own, he'd never get over being lost. Alone, he would always be afraid, he would always be broken, he would always be lost.

He already knew this.

Just, now he was starting to know that it was possible to feel another way. Something different from the long, long dark that he'd been walking in ever since he could remember.

And he wanted it.

It was selfish. It had to be selfish. He wanted to intrude on a life that was perfectly fine without him and get all the comfort he wanted - he needed - without being able to give any of it back. It was selfish. It was.

He splashed water on his face and rubbed at it a little too hard with the towel. He didn't look at his cuts. He didn't want to be reminded of everything he already owed Jimin. He wished he was here, to gently care for him and make him feel so safe and so not alone. He wanted to be given what he couldn't give back. He felt the tears already creeping out of his eyes. It was selfish. It was.

But he still wanted it.