The Lie You Keep

Weird Chicken Pose

Pic from AminoApps in gugle

Dragging home an unconscious man was harder than he thought.

Even though the figure was slim and looked quite healthy, it was still different to really carry his weight.

What more without a car?

Ughh... he still can't get over it.

And what was he gonna do about that rented motorcycle now?

Should he say someone stole it?

Nahh... he'd still be the one to pay for it.

Ohh why is economics so cruel?

The taxi driver gave him weird looks but the man told him not to ask stupid questions.

This was the first time in a long time he ever rode such a vehicle, and he remembered why he didn't want riding one in the first place.

It was smelly and reeked of air fresheners, which just served to make him feel quesy. Seriously, what is up with all those?

He finally reached his apartment and paid the fare (oh how his wallet cried empty pennies), and again heaved the unconscious body from the front desk to the elevator, trying belatedly not to meet anyone's eyes.

Because really, it wasn't normal to see a bloody man being carried by an absolute stranger.

He's seen him only once, and that was when his car was blasted to smithereens.

Oh how his friends laughed. It wasn't funny, and it never will be.

He finally reached his floor after an excruciatingly long amount of time in the elevator, and repeated the same process till he reached the front door.

He pulled out his key, and was about to insert it in the keyhole, when his clumsy fingers let go of the key and got lost in the cheap carpet.

Aghhh why was his life a living hell?

He crouched down, completely forgetting about the man, and jumped in surprise when he heard his head meet the wooden floor.

There was a hollow sound, and the man didn't know whether to sigh in relief or do a makeshift pillow.

Meh... he can rest once he's inside.

At last, he found the key, and was successful in opening the door.

But his cat ran out, claws at the ready, and the man felt too late the scratches on his beloved face.

"Aiishh that pussycat..." he grumbles, gathering the man by the arms and letting his feet drag across the floor, throwing him on the sofa.

He left him to rest up, using the time to wash and rethink the latest events.

He grabbed a pen and paper, scribbling furiously questions he would ask once the man woke.
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The first thing Taehyung woke up to was an annoying blender sound, and he threw the blankets off before the pain let itself known and all he could do was groan.

Ouch that smarts.

He took his time in recovering and looking around, noticing that this was an unfamiliar room.

He looked down and saw that his shirt was gone, to be replaced with bandages wrapped all over his torso.

His arms were also tightly wrapped, and when he threw off the blankets he's relieved to see that his cotton pants were still there, though slightly ripped and dirty.

Where was he?

Agh his head hurts.

Oh there's gauze too.

But seriously where was he?

He appreciates all the help but he needs to go to a safehouse and gather information there.

Approaching footsteps alert him to a new presence, and even though he knew he couldn't really access all his limbs, he still stood on the coffee table and did a battle stance.

He's met with a man snuggled up in a yellow hoodie sipping a mug of what seemed like hot chocolate, and Taehyung was slightly amused at the horrified look on his face.

"Get down from there weirdo, that's my mother's antique vase!"

Taehyung just looks at him quizzically. This man seemed no threat to him.

"Can you understand Korean? I said-"

"Yes I heard you I'm coming down now," Taehyung says, going down the table and planting his feet on the ground. He looks at the man again, "Happy now?"

"Very." He walks closer to inspect the table and the vase, "Creepy dude, when I come to check on you it's to see you with a weird chicken pose. Are you gonna do a ritual dance or something?"

Taehyung is highly offended. Not once did he ever hear anyone say that his pose was for some sort of chicken ritual. Did he actually look like that? Maybe he should practice in the mirror.

The man seemed calm now, slurping his cup and sitting down comfily on one of the sofa chairs.

Taehyung follows suit, making sure to keep a close eye on this man.

He was wearing thick square-shaped glasses, and his hair was dyed a pastel green which somehow suited his face.

It seemed like he had just woken up from a nap, thus the soft yellow hoodie.

"Are you gonna continue analyzing me or you're gonna talk?"

Smart, too.

"Who are you? I demand an answer."

"Is that how you treat your savior?" retorts the man, "Rude uncultured swine."

Taehyung hmphs.

"I can't give away any confidential information."

Ugh the lie tastes bitter on his tongue. It wasn't the same with Jimin.

The man just looks at him like he's crazy.

"So why should I give my name if you're not gonna tell yours?"

Fair point.

"And what do you mean 'confidential'?" He does air quotes, "Are you from some secret agency or something?"

Taehyung visibly stiffens, but the man doesn't notice.

"You were the one who asked for help pabo," he continues, the agent's head snapping up, "I couldn't just leave you there so I took you home and cleaned you up. But man, you've got a nasty bruise by your stomach."

He reaches a tentative hand to ghost over the painful wound.

It must've been when Hoseok kicked him.

"Thank you." He bows, even though the action folded his soft tummy. Ouch.

"Alright alright ease up soldier," comes the soothing voice of the man.

Taehyung looks up.

Wow, he's got dimples when he smiles.

He's offering a hand.

"I'm Kim Namjoon."

Taehyung just sits there, thinking.

Finally, he slides his own hand to his with a small genuine smile.

"Kim Taehyung."