Masked men

Masked men hurrah -pt2

"Kook-ah?"

Just like that, the husky voice transported Jungkook back into the past. A time filled with late movie marathons, warm nights spent curled up against a comforting side, the scent of cigarettes and cologne thick in the air, the smell of home. The pain of loss and the many nights spent crying when they grew distant as he had to move, the phone calls becoming few and far between until they had completely stopped talking. A sharp sting that had eventually dulled to a slight throb as Jungkook had grown older, finally understanding that the other boy had no control of the situation.

"Jungkook? Are you there?" the question brought Jungkook back to the situation at hand. He was standing in the middle of a crappy hotel room, reminiscing the past as he called an ex he hadn't talked to in three years. He swallowed, mouth dry and tongue heavy.

"Hyung" he cringed at the way his voice cracked. "Hyung...we need to talk". Jungkook couldn't help the way he shivered as the person on the other side of the phone sighed, resignation thick in his breath, as though he had been waiting for this to come up but by no means wanted it to.

"Sure Kook. You still in the area? Of course you are. I'll meet you at the coffee shop down town, you know the one. I'll be there by two, we have a lot to discuss."

There was shuffling on the other end as he made to hang up, in a brief moment of panic, Jungkook opened his mouth, immediately regretting the words that came tumbling out. "Hyung, I've missed you,"

He was silent for a moment and Jungkook sagged in on himself, wanting to scream at how desperate he must have sounded. He hadn't changed at all. Just as he was about to tell his hyung to forget it,

"I've missed you too Kookie". The line went dead.

Jungkook looked down at the phone in his hand, eyes wide in shock, mouth hanging open and cheeks coloured an embarrassing shade of pink. He lay down, palms pressed flush against his burning face, muffling the scream he let loose. He sat up and coughed, ashamed by his childish reaction, even if there was no one to witness it.

BANG BANG

"Oi! Keep it down in there!" He spoke too soon. Standing up, Jungkook made his way to the door to room, and opened it, eyes cast down ready to apologise.

"Holy shit it's you!" a somewhat familiar voice exclaimed. His head shot up, making immediate eye contact with the taller man whose brown eyes were blown wide, jaw slack in amazement.

It was the man from the bank, the one who had run away from him. Before he could say anything, Jungkook had slammed the door in his face and locked the latch, determined to ignore the problem until it went away. Paying no mind to the banging on the door, he climbed into bed and proceeded to bury himself under the covers trying to lose himself in the soothing embrace of sleep.

Against all his expectations, Jungkook did actually manage to fall asleep, losing himself in wistful memories of their small but reassuring apartment with the one huge window with the fantastic view of the Busan night-life. Unsurprisingly, he awoke with tears cutting across his slightly sleep puffed cheeks.

The light in the bathroom, however crappy it was, was much too bright for Jungkook's migraine riddled eyes as he squinted into the dirty mirror hung haphazardly on the cracked tile wall. He looked like shit. The bags under his eyes were darker than he ever remembered them being. He had lost weight and his clothes, even his tightest shirt hung off his bony frame. Once sun-kissed skin was washed out and sallow and his lips were cracked and red. He hung his head, avoiding looking at his reflection any more than was necessary as he washed up and got dressed in casual clothing, unwilling to go back to work, forget the fact that he was almost broke: the account that he shared with Taemin was now closed off to him, surprise surprise. Taemin never had done anyone favours.

Ignoring the rumbling in his stomach, he packed up all of his meagre belongings and signed out, thanking the receptionist with red cheeks for the apple that was offered when his hollow stomach growled obnoxiously.

He shuffled out of the lobby, dragging his beat up back pack behind him, and stood, drained, on the pavement as cars whizzed past, whipping up the foul odour of engine fuel. Jungkook coughed, body racking with the force of his hacks. He whimpered in pain as he stood up straight, ribs protesting. Confusion coloured his baffled mind. That hadn't been the first fight of theirs that had gotten physical so why did it hurt so much now, when he hadn't felt anything for the best part of 24 hours?

He took a shaky step forwards, the world spinning dangerously as he swayed back and forth.

"Hey!" Jungkook turned, vision swimming, blurring and therefore obscuring the identity of the person calling out to him. His legs gave out and he went crashing to the ground, head coming into solid contact with the concrete. His vision went black and he whined high in the back of his throat as pain drummed through him.

"Shit kid. Who did this to you? Yoongi is not going to be happy about this." It might have just been his imagination, but that voice sounded a lot like Namjoon.