Jungkook thought about the turn of events... Here he was, sitting on the sofa shirtless – the surroundings somewhat clean, only the walls need a proper scrubbing. A sleeping and thank god bandaged Taehyung was currently using his thigh as a pillow.
A soft sigh passed his lips as he looked down at the peaceful face, finally seeing no conflict, no emotion enveloped his sharp yet soft features, his fair skin still slightly pale. He sighed quietly, petting the boy's hair in a soothing manner.
—
After a long talk, trying to calm down the worrying boy due to a sudden mood change, Jungkook took off all the tissues with dried blood and binned them. Then he came back and bobbed down, grabbing the back of the chair so that the boy was encaged.
"Tae, I'd like to ask you a teeny weeny favour." Jungkook asked as sweetly as possible, the sight of all the cuts disturbing him slightly. The boy looked at him, now holding the base of the chair in front – in between his swollen thighs. Large dull hazel puppy eyes staring down at him.
"What's in it... frr me?" He asked, words still slurping together. Tilting his head, he continued to stare deeply at Jungkook. The dark haired boy admits that he would call him adorable, but he still could see the fresh cuts and old scars. It hurt him knowing that Taehyung didn't find another way out of whatever he was suffering from.
"That's..." Jungkook paused to muse, "... A surprise for you!~" He tried his best to sound cheerful, a forced bunny smile appearing on his features. This made the boy opposite him smile back, jumping up and down in his seat. This made Jungkook alarmed as he didn't want more blood to seep out. So, he did the first thing that came to mind and held his waist, making him stop all the actions.
"Tae, would you kindly fetch me the first aid or bandages and alcohol wipes, pretty please?" And with that, Taehyung took off.
Whilst Taehyung went to find what Jungkook asked for, he stood up and traveled to the living room – hating the lingering smell, even the sight of blood is starting to irritate him. So he decided to do something about it.
He grabbed the Crimson covered scissors as well as the bottles, then he carried them to the kitchen – binning the bottles and throwing the weapon into the sink. Grabbing a cleaning cloth, he started to clean the blood off of the table and somewhat the floor.
The distant sound of thundering footsteps alerted him, trying to get rid of the cloth before he came. Thus he moved to his side to have a clear view of the kitchen through the door way. Without hesitating, he threw the cloth that perfectly landed into the sink.
Just a second later, Taehyung came into view, holding two first aid kits – Jungkook being utterly thankful for more than one kit.
—
The young boy was exhausted, but maybe not as much as Taehyung, who heavily slept – small puffs escaping his lips. It hurt Jungkook looking at the boy's pained expression when he adjusts himself in his sleep, maybe even more that if he's hurt himself.
It pained him knowing that this boy – that he only texted a few times and only met today – is so... different. He thought he was stubborn but goofy, happy. But today shows otherwise.
Jungkook looks from the boy's face to his body, bandages wrapped from his wrists right to his shoulders, his whole thighs covered.
—
Taehyung was... well, passed out. Laying partly on the floor and sofa, limbs limp. A long sigh left his lips as he opened the first kit, taking out the bandages and alcohol wipes.
He then opened the packets for them, taking one out and hovering it over a wound near his wrist – oh, he just hoped this pain wouldn't wake the boy up.
Hesitantly, he applied the wipe, awaiting a yelp or scream of some sort, but non came. Jungkook doesn't know wether he should be worried or pleased, imaging the pain like a bullet to the chest. So Jungkook figured Taehyung must be knocked out real good.
Minutes later, when he decided that he did a good job of cleaning the wounds, he applied the bandages – slowly lifting one limb at a time and steadily wrapping each one, just so he doesn't wake the sleeping boy up. Then, when he used up all the bandages, he moved the kits aside; stands up, picking up the boy and laying him on the sofa.
However, as soon as he was about to leave, the boy held onto his blood soaked shirt. Jungkook failed to notice this, so he began walking away – only to be suffocated and tugged backwards.
"Please..." Whimpered the boy quietly, his grip on Jungkook's shirt decreasing by the passing moment. "Stay." And that's all it took for the raven haired male to stand there silently staring inconveniently at the dark blood stained walls, having a mental argument with himself.
Eventually, he doesn't see a reason why not to sit with Taehyung – that's why he came here in the first place, to meet Taehyung and then let fate decide what next. Yet, fate wasn't in his favour... or maybe it was, what would have happened if he didn't come, would the boy be laying on the cold carpet not breathing? Jungkook scrunched up his face lightly, not wanting to think anything like that.
Thus, he sat down near the corner of the sofa – Taehyung quickly moving up slightly to lay down his head on the boy's strong thigh. An opportunity that can't be missed. Seeing this, the raven haired wanted to coo, but no noise was emitted from him. Carefully, Jungkook began playing with the boy's fluffy but slightly damaged hair in a soothing manner, only light puffs came from the now sleeping boy.
After a couple of minutes stroking the boy's hair gently, Jungkook's dry red stained shirt caught his attention; the smell of blood right under his nose making him feel sick by the passing minute. Therefore, he stopped all of his actions and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it upwards and over his head. He chucked it next to his feet with one hand, checking his hair with his other hand – feeling how slightly it got dishevelled.
__
He let out a soft puff, finally getting to relax. One of his hands resumed to playing with the boy's hair whilst he covered his eyes with his other arm, leaning his head back on the sofa.
Jungkook stared at the fragile sleeping boy, wondering about the boy's situation. There's a strange yet awkward urge in his chest to hug the boy through all of his shedding tears and bloodied wrists, making sure the boy is never alone especially around sharp or dangerous objects – almost as if wanting to wrap the boy in bubble wrap and never let go of his had.
Yet his train of thought, or emotions even seemed sceptical to himself. His brain yelling at him that everything he just thought of his utter rubbish and Jungkook should instead take him to a professional; someone who is able to support him better than Jungkook could ever.
With one last glance at the boy, Jungkook swung his head backwards, officially slipping into dreamland. Mainly, due to such new and horrifying experiences being thrown at him in a couple of seconds; the world expecting him to catch all of them. It was just too much for him. He felt burned out, tired from the passing time.
