Color of My Pain

2| Brown

Namjoon was down the wall faster than he'd ever been. When Hoseok landed in the ground with a sickening thud and a pained cry, all heads turned to stare. Joon called his name, but Hobi wasn't answering. He'd curled up into a fetal position, groaning in pain. To Namjoon, who had no medical expertise, it appeared that nothing was broken.

"Hoseok!" He called again.

He put a hand on the older's arm, but he didn't get a response. Carefully, he lifted him up and the coach sent him to the nurse's office.

He had a sprained wrist.

Namjoon was allowed to sit with Hobi for the remainder of P.E. Hobi woke up after his wrist was wrapped.

"Are you okay?"

"Well I am." Hoseok growled.

"How bad was it this time?" Joon whispered.

"He was sick. And then scared. And then..." His good fist curled around the sheets.

And then.

Namjoon knew what that meant.

And when a tear slipped down the smooth planes of Hobi's cheek, Namjoon reached out. He uncurled Hobi's fingers from the blanket and held it tight.

Hobi drove home before school was over. Namjoon was going to stay behind anyway to talk to Jin more. It was a little awkward driving with the pain in his wrist, so he drove carefully. He was glad for the lack of traffic.

His dad had been home today, at some point. Their dining room table was covered in papers and files from his case, colorful notecards were paper-clipped to the stacks. It was probably the only organizational technique of his mother's that his father had retained.

He knew his mom wasn't home, she was away on business and would be back later that night. Hoseok felt the murky brown of his counterpart's aches. And that of his own. In an attempt to ease the onslaught, he took a painkiller. Just a little of the color faded.

Bored and not one prone to sitting around (Cant relate), Hobes, quite literally, single handedly tidied the house. He straightened his dad's papers, cleaned his bedroom, and threw in a load of wash. He tried not to bump his wrist, wary of adding to his soulmate's pain.

His mom was not happy about his wrist.

"You fell?"

"Yes."

"Off the climbing wall."

"Off the climbing wall." He confirmed, cradling his arm.

She put a hand to her temple, "Hoseok, eh, How?"

"Ma, he was sick. I couldn't focus, so I stopped. Then it got really bad and I accidentally let go."

She nodded, then frowned.

"If he was sick, why were you participating?" She reached for her phone, practically growling. "What kind of a coach--"

"Mom, I told him. He said I could sit out, but I didn't want to. It's not his fault. Not even a little."

His dad, who'd taken it much better, approached and slid a stealthy, calming arm around his soulmate. She relaxed visibly.

"Next time, promise us you'll sit out."

"Promise."

Namjoon and Jin's families were having a party. Namjoon's house was the venue. Predictably, Hoseok's family was invited, along with Jin's family friends and Joon's.

The couple was very happy and their families were getting on wonderfully.

Hobi, having gone back to school, was the reluctant witness of their couple-y antics. Like how Jin sat close to Joon and nuzzled into his side. Or how Joon kept an arm around Jin at all times. Maybe the way Jin's eyes glazed over when Namjoon was being 'philosophical' instead of the common reaction of an eyeroll irked Hoseok. Maybe it was all of it.

No. It was all of it.

Due to his daily overdose of pda observation, Hoseok was constantly accompanied by a lavender headache. He felt bad about it, which made it worse. He didn't want to be jealous of his best friend's happiness.

In better news, his wrist wasn't hurting so much. It wasn't a bad sprain, thankfully, and he was back on the climbing wall in no time. Up, down. Repeat.

And Jin's friend Jimin had joined their small group. He was very nice, but Hobi didn't really know what to say to him most of the time.

Namjoon spent the weekend at Hoseok's, knowing he'd been busy with Jin. "When are you gonna show up to decorate?"

"You mean with all those pink streamers and the purple balloons?" Hobi joked.

"Yes those."

"I don't know if I want to go."

"So you're sleeping over." Namjoon translated.

"You know it."Hobi laughed.

________________________________________________________________________________

Hoseok was at the gym on Thursday, his training going extra long. He used all the machines. He missed the fuzzy orange burn as he worked his muscles. He'd hit the showers and was ready to head for home, but then his baby had an episode.

The white that faded to the pulses of black. Very intense black. He got in his car, his soulmate's pain pounding in his ears, and drove as close as he dared to the city limits. He got out, not bothering to close the door, just to walk closer, closer.

He slept in his car, by the line. He called his dad.

"Dad."

"It's late, are you almost home?"

"He's hurting again."

A sigh. "Alright. I'll cover for you. Get home early." He clicked off.

Hoseok had never told his mom how frequently his soulmate was abused. He didn't want to upset her.

He whispered to the stillness. "I'm here. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I love you."

And somewhere, a perceptive boy whose pain had eased ever so slightly, whispered the oath back to the shadows of his room.