Obvious

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When Jimin opened his eyes the first thing he saw was a messy spray of dark brown hair right in front of his face. It was fanned out on the pillow and the wispy locks of hair looked softer than the cotton, sticking up at the ends in messy little kinks like the edges of eyelashes. For a few seconds he could just stare at this as his brain started to wake up and then he felt something moving, something brushing against him that felt like someone else's fingers. Before he could even move his head to look down the fingers became a hand and then an arm, which reached over to lie lazily across his chest. Jimin was on his back with his head turned to the side and so he slowly shifted to look down. An arm lying across his chest that was lightly tanned, the backs of the hand scratched especially around the knuckles which were slightly pink or paler than the rest as the scarred skin healed over. He followed the hand up to the wrist and then the forearm, the elbow and then the upper, but before he could reach the shoulder a head got in the way. Same messy brown hair that had been on the pillow that revealed it to be none other than Taehyung.

The boy had shared beds with him mostly whilst on the road but he had never awoken to him in this position before, usually because the other boy seemed to be out of bed before he even opened his eyes. If he wasn't sprawled out and hogging all of the space he tended to turn his back on him whilst sleeping and not take up much legroom despite his height but he slept with a pillow hugged against his chest as well as under his head just to be awkward. He never snuggled up against his back, face against his shoulder and arm over his waist, and rather just seemed to stay in his own half of the bed. Yet this morning he had woken up to his friend practically fused to his side. Arms hugging him close, legs tucked up and wrapped around his own because he could feel the weight even though he couldn't look down to check, face burrowed against his chest.

This was because of last night.

Jimin wasn't stupid. He knew that he had caught Taehyung in a very compromising situation last night and that he really shouldn't have entered the bathroom. But when he had heard the door lock opening and then the sound of someone shuffling across the room he had been unable to stop himself from getting up to check. The bed had been empty beside him, an automatic sign that it had been Taehyung and not one of the other two boys sneaking back into the hostel room. He had thought about the way Seokjin had asked him about the alcohol the morning after the first day on the road and how he had wanted to know if that was all the boy had been carrying in his backpack, and that had made him want to get out of bed and go into the other room: full of curiosity that maybe, just maybe their friend had been scared of him carrying anything worst than cheap beer. Something like drugs, for example. So he had stupidly stumbled into the bathroom after him only to see a sight so absurd and shocking that for a moment he had been convinced that he was still sleeping.

Taehyung in front of the sink, jeans around his ankles and the bottom of his tee unable to cover the sight of his underwear; his blood soaked underwear.

Jimin hadn't seen that much blood before, for he had never injured himself enough to end up in such a way. The soju bottle shard in the elbow had been nothing more than a dribble in comparison, Jungkook's torn and swollen lip just a graze. Even his own bleeding thumb that time the two boys had sliced it with a kitchen knife seemed nothing to the sight that had been in front of him. The material had been a soft cotton white and yet last night in the bathroom it had been slick enough to have been damp to the touch, most of the seat and lower leg area near the upper thigh crimson. He had felt his pillow falling out of his hand as he had gasped in shock and then the boy had whirled around to look at him with the most cornered expression he had ever seen. Taehyung had looked like a rabbit caught in a snare and he hadn't even been able to wonder why, done nothing more than stutter when he had slammed him against the wall and threatened to kill him. At that point he should have left and crawled back into bed but he had been unable to, honestly too scared about his friend to leave it all alone.

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