I Need You to Run ✔️

11. Raincheck

(The next day)

Namjoon looked around the dark apartment, the smell of mildew invading his senses. He hadn't stepped foot in this apartment since before he had left Seoul, and immediately noticed the changed atmosphere from what he had once known to be a bright and welcoming place.

Hoseok stood at the far end of the room, pulling up the blankets on his bed and fixing the pillows. Namjoon knew he had to have this conversation with the older boy, sooner rather than later, and even though he was good with his words, he couldn't help but feel nervous.

Scratching the back of his head, he placed his bag on the kitchen counter and stepped further into the apartment. "You can stop cleaning Hobs." The younger boy spoke as he ran his fingers over the back of the couch. "I'm not some girl you need to try and impress."

Hoseok looked up through his dark bangs, smiling nervously and he straightened his back. "If you'd have called first, I would have been more prepared for company." He massaged the back of his neck, looking down at the crooked blanket on the bed, quickly fixing it.

Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest and rested against the couch, crossing one foot over the other. "If I called, you would have made up an excuse not to see me." His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, his eyes widening.

Hoseok became still, his hands balled at his sides. "Jimin told you?"

Namjoon paused for a moment, evaluating the older boys shocked expression before slowly nodding. He knew from experience to tread lightly and not overwhelm, but the conversation was already moving quicker than he expected. "We're worried."

"Well don't be." Hobi retorted, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets. "I'm fine. He overreacted."

Namjoon narrowed his eyes. "You really think that's going to work on me?" He scoffed, pushing off the couch and moving towards the bathroom.

Hoseok jumped over the bed and in front of him, his hands pressing firmly against the younger but taller boys chest. "Stop!" He shouted, his lips curling as he fought to compose his panicked expression.

Namjoon tightened his chest, looking down sternly at the shaking boy. "Why Hoseok?" He spat, his deep voice reverberating through the small apartment. "So you can continue to use, fucking yourself up every night? So one of us can find you in a pool of your own vomit again, not knowing if you're breathing or dead?" His words were harsh, piercing his nerves as he spoke the difficult words.

"Joonie—"

Namjoon shook his head, his eyes wide with anger. "No Hobi." He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the thick locks out of his face. "Do you realize what you're doing? Do you not see the pain you are causing?" He licked his lips before biting down on his tongue, contemplating his next words. "Jimin was eighteen. Eighteen when he found you. It's been four years, and even though he doesn't say it out loud, I know he still blames himself for what happened."

Hoseok scratched the back of his head. "He knows it wasn't his fault." Hobi retorted, his eyes locked on the ground.

"You didn't see the way he broke down this morning when he told me he found your stash." Namjoon wanted to yell at the older boy for being so inconsiderate.

Hoseok chewed on the inside of is bottom lip. "He's overreacting."

"-Fuck you Hoseok." Namjoon pushed against the smaller boys chest, finally losing any ounce of self control he had left. "I refuse to go through that again! I will not let you be so careless with your own life."

Hoseok wrapped his arms around himself, a single tear trailing down his cheek. "You don't understand." His voice was barely a whisper, cracking with pain.