hanahaki ⚣ taekook

- 2

a/n: there will probably be around five or six chapters in total!

"fucking jeon jungkook," taehyung groans into his arms and attempts to burrow his head further into the table.

jimin chances a glance from his phone, continuing to rub barely-soothing circles between the shoulders of taehyung's back.

"of course his hanahaki flowers would have barbed teeth. and guess what? they're toxic. naver said they can kill cows, jimin." taehyung mumbled, turning to face jimin.

"does it look like i can survive something that kills cows?" he asked brokenly, looking at jimin hopelessly.

jimin let out a sigh, opening a new tab on his phone and patting once reassuringly on taehyung's back.

"he fell on my lap earlier in the van and i just about ejected the entire garden of eden from my lungs." taehyung says, frowing at the floor.

another half-assed bump against his shoulder.

"hyung." taehyung reaches without looking up and slams his palm flat against the table. "your dongsaeng is dying. some hipster's cystic fibrosis wet dream is growing in my lungs and i breathe like i've chain-smoked ever since I was evicted from my mother's vagina–"

"you were not evicted, it's not like you failed to comply with the terms of rent in 'guesthouse: your mum's uterus' and she up and decided to terminate your fetal contract–"

"i literally couldn't care less," taehyung grumbles, ruffling up jimin's soft hair. jimin grabs his wrist from his hair and taehyung grins, enjoying a vindictive sort of pleasure from his sounds of outrage.

taehyung drops his head back into his arms, resting there for a few minutes.

he finally lifts his head from his arms and drops his eyes to the smooth skin above the collar of jimin's shirt. he pulls his wrist back to rub at his own aching chest, blue-green lines drawing a brier of vines beneath his thick turtleneck.

"are they still growing?" jimin asks concered, nodding his head towards taehyung's chest.

"mhmm. i reckon i'll have grown my own forest by next month." taehyung muses.

jimin winces. he places his hand back on taehyung's shoulder and lightly nudges his him.

"no one would mind postponing the comeback for your surgery. if the others knew, you know they'd tell you to get it done," jimin reminds him gently.

"no time," taehyung shakes his head. "the album's almost ready, i'm getting over it."

"because hacking up a dozen bouquets when jungkook looks past you is getting over it so well?"

"it'll work," taehyung mutters. "don't discredit me. do you know how many flowers i've swallowed down over the past month to keep the others from noticing?"

"i thought naver said they were toxic?" jimin asks, eyes widening.

"yeah, that's probably why i feel like shit." taehyung says.

"not the only reason," jimin murmurs, sneaking a furtive glance from the corner of his eye.

"not the only reason," taehyung agrees.

"shouldn't you just try to– i dunno, get him to love you back?" jimin asks.

"hyung, you don't think i've tried? are you just rubbing it in my face now?"

"what would even happen if he did return your feelings? you'd get cured, right?"

"yeah, apparently. a slower process, since you still have to get rid of the shit that's built up in your lungs, but nothing grows back." taehyung says, looking at the table with sadness.

"he might love you back if you tell him." jimin's stare bores holes into taehyung's skull. "with how hard he tries and how much he cares, he might even convince himself into it."

"that's not–" taehyung pauses, struggling to collect his thoughts. " that's not the point. i don't just want him to like me back so i get better, i want him to like me back because he likes me."

jimin shrugs. "as long as you don't die before the album's done. keep suffering."

in an act of true spite, taehyung nudges jimin's phone off the table.