Knowing - jikook au

Confirmation.

Confirmation. Jimin hated waiting for confirmation, whether it was confirmation he'd done well on a dance, or in an exam, or had pleased somebody. Or confirmation that he may or may not be slowly dying.

"What is with you today Jimin? You are not your usual smooth self." Jimin let out a groan and let himself fall against the wall of his dance studio, panting heavily, sweat dripping down his skin. He had been attempting to learn a new dance, but nothing was going right. He couldn't get any of the new moves, he had little rhythm and he had stumbled more times than he cared to count. His dance instructor, Leo, an American man who had moved to Korea to be with the love of his life a few years back, walked over to the wall, crouched down and handed Jimin a towel to wipe his sweat with. The dancer took it, panting as he wiped at his skin.

"I've got a lot on my mind," Jimin replied, voice quiet. It had been three days since he went to the hospital, and indeed, he did have a lot on his mind; constant loops of seeing his mother's dead hand falling over the side of her hospital bed, to be exact. Or the loops of the last words his father said to him, you're not enough for me, Jimin. Or the loops of Jungkook's face in his nightmare, where Jimin died and left his lover alone.

"Could you be any more vague?" Leo questioned, quirking an eyebrow to the boy who shut his eyes and shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. It's not important. Let's just get back to the dance and-"

"No." Jimin opened his eyes as he heard the single word, and watched his dance instructor straighten himself from his crouched position. "Go home Jimin, call Jungkook over, get a takeout and watch a film. Relax. You're not dancing well, you're too stressed to drop your mind and let your body take control, all you're doing is making yourself more frustrated that you can't learn a new dance. You're too distracted. Go home, Jimin, sort yourself out and come back with a fresh mind."

Jimin would have protested, but he knew that Leo was right. It was probably best that he didn't try to learn a new dance whilst all of these possibilities and scenarios were buzzing around his brain - he wanted to be completely on form at the competition, and he wouldn't be if he hadn't learnt his dance accurately. Instead, he threw the towel back to Leo, took some much-needed gulps of his water before throwing his jacket on and leaving the dance studio.

Once outside, he felt the cool evening air brush against his face and let out a sigh, stretching out his arms to the sides of his body and letting his head fall back, eyes shut. It was refreshing to feel the cold shock of the night. It reminded him he was alive. He took a few deep breaths, before lowering his arms and bringing his chin down, slowly opening his eyes to see Jungkook's face in front of his, smiling gently. He stepped back slightly, not expecting the other boy to be there, but melted into his embrace when Jungkook pulled him into a hug. Jimin was sweaty and surely pretty sticky, but that didn't matter to the other boy.

"What are you doing here?" Jimin mumbled in his lover's skin, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's neck.

"I thought I'd walk you back. You've been distracted these last few days, and I thought that it'd be nice just to walk together." Jungkook explained, pulling away from Jimin and swiping some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Jimin didn't believe him, knowing that Leo had probably texted him asking him to come and get Jimin, but he nodded regardless, reaching up to Jungkook's hand to intertwine their fingers and bring it down to his side.

The two walked mainly in silence. Jungkook knew that Jimin didn't want to talk - normally the boy would be bubbily chatting away about his practice, how his new dance was going and what stupid mistakes he did, which made Leo laugh at him for three minutes straight. That wasn't what Jimin was doing this time, though. He was walking quietly, staring off into the dark, and Jungkook was sure he wouldn't even remember the other boy was there if he didn't feel the constant warmth of his hand in the cold night. He wanted to ask what was wrong, he wanted so badly to turn the other boy to him, stare him straight in the eyes and demand an answer. But Jimin was fragile, as much as the other boy hated to admit it, and he knew that he would have to wait for a bit before asking again what was on his mind. He had kind of already asked about 12 times since the older boy had returned from the hospital.