ᴄʀᴜᴛᴄʜᴇs || ᴊ.ᴊᴋ + ᴋ.ᴛʜ ✔️

one: the boy with the crutches

Taehyung wasn't sure how long the boy had been there. That dark-haired boy with the crutches, the boy who he was pretty sure was tall but didn't look it because he limped and slouched against his will whether he was walking or sitting, the boy who had such a forlorn yet oddly concentrated expression plastered on his handsome face. Taehyung was fairly certain the boy had been there for the entirety of the practice. And the following day's practice. And the next. And the next. He never said anything, he never approached the field. He would just sit there on the side of the field in the white bleachers, his crutches lying on the bench beside him, his back bent as he leaned forward, eyes painstakingly zeroed in on the on-field activity, and nothing else.

That was how it appeared, anyway. Taehyung admitted he didn't have the best eyesight when it came to things at a far distance, but he was fairly certain that boy never once turned his head away. Not to do so much as glance at a cloud passing in front of the sun. Not even to sneeze.

Taehyung guessed he was a fanatic. Just someone who enjoyed to watch the games, so much that he always made sure to come to the field whenever there were practices. Which was every day after school, as well as the one period during school hours provided for club activities. Convincing himself it wasn't anything to be bothered with, Taehyung found it in himself to bury the image along with his thoughts and focus solely on soccer. He had just recently joined the team, after all, and he wanted to make a good impression. And of course, he knew he had a lot to learn, so he wanted to dedicate more time to improving instead of wondering about the quiet spectator with the crutches. But he wondered anyway.

"Hey, Namjoon-ssi, do you know who that guy is?"

Without even looking up from the soccer ball he was polishing, Namjoon gave a soft sigh and pursed his lips. He was visibly hesitant. "That's Jungkook," he said. Taehyung waited for a further explanation, but Namjoon had already gone back to polishing equipment. He cleared his throat. Namjoon raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"I meant who is he?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"I'm socially awkward."

Namjoon scoffed, setting down one soccer ball to pick up another. "Far from it," he said. "Taehyung, I've only known you for a short time and you're one of the friendliest guys I've ever met. Everyone on the team loves you. You're not awkward."

He felt just a tad pleased at the compliment, but at the same time displeased upon not receiving the answer he was looking for. Frowning, he muttered, "Okay, but you're still avoiding the question."

"Look, I don't really wanna talk about it, Tae. Honestly, I don't even know why he came here..."

The abrupt change in tone caught Taehyung off guard. Why did Namjoon sound so serious all of a sudden? No, it wasn't just seriousness. There was an underlying sadness in the boy's voice as well. Taehyung applauded himself for being able to detect things such as this, because now he could confirm that Jungkook's being here was likely a sensitive topic, and that alone intrigued him.

He knew he would have to be cautious. Something in the pit of his stomach told him that approaching this stranger would require a different strategy than his usual way of greeting new people.

He didn't typically feel nervous around strangers, he wasn't typically an awkward person, just like Namjoon said. But oddly enough as Taehyung began to take those bold steps towards the bleachers, he didn't feel so bold at all, but rather small. The practice wasn't over. So Jungkook was still there. Unmoving, fingers interlocked and elbows resting on his thighs. However, when the boy registered that Taehyung was walking towards him and not merely in the direction of him, he straightened his posture. Gradually. Like a tortoise slowly backing up.