Little Prince Yoongi

27. Pain

God wasn't on Kim Namjoon's side today.
All he needed was 8 hours of sleep, perhaps a shower, and enough food to not leave his stomach talking more than him. Instead of this dreamland, however, he was awoken with a blast of sound from his studio computer upon pressing the play button in his sleep, consequently knocking over his pack of chips that were scrunched at the top to prevent them turning stale and scattering the small spicy pieces across the grey rough carpet.

"Shit." was all he could say before a harsh and sharp growl in his stomach made him groan and stand up to face himself in the one mirror in the studio, the one he practised raps and speeches in front of in the private and soundproof room, leaving him face to face to face with a pale and greasy body that surely wasn't his. However, the yawn he released that was shone back at him confirmed what he feared: the guy was absolutely gone.

His hair was split and streaky with the grease, and his eyes had more bags than Taehyung returning from the Gucci store. His hands were cramped from typing, clicking, writing... his eyes burned from the whites of the screen and paper, his shirt was too big over his slouched body and his jeans clung to him with the uncomfortable feeling of not showering. There was one thing to do. And only one thing that could save his soul from the week in the cold yet sticky studio of stressful deadlines and annoyingly repetitive tracks.

Little Yoongi.

Calling Jimin wasn't something he particulary wanted to do, nor something that he was proud of since he practically stormed out a week ago to go to the studio, saying that it was too stressful with Yoongi and everyone else and that for once... he said that for once he wanted a "normal family". He hurt them. But he needs them back.

One ring. Two rings. Silence.
Jimin had hung up on him, and he didn't want to push his luck with the younger who, although cute and sweet, can rip a person limb by limb when stressed, annoyed, or insulted. By Namjoon calling him, he'd become all three.

Seokjin next. His beautiful boyfriend who he left selfishly...

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings... five... six... seven..? Eight. Nothing. Seokjin would never let his phone go unanswered... he ignored Namjoon. Somehow he found this even more insulting than being hung up on; Seokjin had resisted Namjoon instead of just hanging up and getting it over with. The hope in his heart by the fourth ring couldn't handle the voicemail message following the eighth blast of noise in his ear.

Taehyung?

One. Two. Three... four...

"Hello?" A cold and uncharacteristic voice came from Taehyung through the phone, and Namjoon just couldn't tell whether he was relieved or pained to hear such a monotoned and harsh voice from a usually happy and caring man.

"Tae-yah..? Are you home right now?" He was cautious, careful. One wrong move and he wouldn't taste Jin's cooking for a long time yet.
"Yes. But you aren't, so why should it matter? Aren't you looking for a better family, hyung? Maybe a... what was it... a "Normal" family, hyung?" The line went dead, and so did Namjoon's heart. His eyes, blank with the realisation that family, his world, is the most he could ever ask for and he made them feel irrelevant... useless... like they were in the way, stopping him from reaching whatever it was he aspired to do or be. Like they were holding him back whilehe clawed to escape their hugs and smiles and love and support- like he needed more.
But really he needed less.

He didn't feel like he deserved their love or their praise or their support. He felt worthless and unwanted... He pushed them away to stop them from smothering him with the words that suffocated him with hands around his tan throat and knives in his head that never relent from slicing at his self image, his self worth, his self love that he tries to promote to everyone around him but can't seem to stuff it corner by corner into the box of self doubt in his filled up mind.
And now they won't return his calls.

He needed little Yoongi to take his pain away. He needed his smile and his sweet sweet laugh and voice and his little hands grabbing for whatever he could see that resembled a blanket or food, or for one of the men themselves.
He needed Seokjin's warm and gentle hands on the back of his neck, leaning back into Namjoon's arms around his waist as they playfully leaned across a chair or a bed or a table and... laughed.
He needed Jungkook's heart and soul brightening a dull room. He needed Hoseok's jokes and Taehyung's dances across the kitchen to distract them all from Jimin stealing the leftovers from the fridge and them both running away to lock themselves in Jungkook's room to laugh about it.

God he needed them. He wanted them, he needed them, he had to have their love and support and their hapiness.

Bangtan wasn't Bangtan with 6. Bangtan wasn't a normal family. Bangtan was Bangtan, pain and smile, and Namjoon was part of Bangtan... pain or smile.

Eyo, so ye this is an actual chapter for once. Enjoy!!! I liked writing it ❣