"Shit that stings!"
"Not my fault you got your ass kicked now stop moving."
Taehyung was still delirious—biting his bottom lip, instantly regretting it as the unpalatable harsh taste of rubbing alcohol grazed his tongue. Chasmic gaze was fixed on the kitchen tile, feet swaying back and forth in the air. He was sitting on the counter, all types of emotions sated his body and thoughts. His mind was at fog, swollen; bloody eyes unconsciously gawking at the calm man in-between his legs every minute or so.
He had fucked up...bad.
Not only had he been left with one awfully noticeable black eye, a bleeding nose, split eyebrow and lip, but also, he was left with an abundant amount of guilt—almost positive he broke Jimin in ways that are hard to recover from.
Because of his imprudent—idiotic stigma; his friend, best friend at that, cried. Pleaded him to stop fighting through his mesmeric weeps.
Why did he fight back?
As much as he wanted to stay angry at Jungkook for senselessly beating his elder, Taehyung knew he was doing the right thing.
At that moment, the man—Jimin's supposed enemy, the one who taunted him every chance he could—was the one protecting him from his own claimed best-friend, the person asserted to stay by the smaller's side no matter what.
Foolish of him.
"Hyung. I think...I think I really fucked up." Taehyung sighed, feeling his heart pace amidst the deep breathing.
Yoongi halted, slightly moving away from the younger man—bloodstained towel still pressed against Taehyung's nose gently held by his fingertips. He took a moment to process the outburst of words. Although his face was unreadable—expressionless almost, coils of irritation overflowed within him.
His evident tired—piercing eyes deepend into Taehyung's blood-shut ones with a sudden portent expression; sincerely making the younger shudder from the peek of his head to the ends of his toes.
"You think? You definitely did dumbass. Look at yourself, PD nim is going to kill you."
Taehyung was dumbstruck; mouth unwittingly falling open. After his utterance, the hyung trailed his eyes back on the cuts, sight fixated on Taehyung's still—very attractive features.
Curse his heart for still wanting to aid the blond's well-deserved injuries.
The kitchen fell silent for an instant.
Should I tell Yoongi why we fought? What if he tells the others? Would he get mad? Damn, this sucks. I have no choice.
"H-hyung the reason why we fought was beca-
"I already know why."
Yoongi was blunt—straight to the point. He knew exactly what was going on and yet, he was still spending his time here instead of sleeping.
Taehyung darted his gaze at the hyung in shock.
He knows?
"What I don't understand is why did you guys fight about it. Wanna explain that to me?" Yoongi probed, strands of ebony hair masking his eyes—head tilting in concentration.
The taller's anxious stare fell down to his lap, throat instantaneously drying. He knew he had to tell Yoongi everything.
"In the restaurant...Jimin was giving Jungkook a b-blow job and I heard it."
Taehyung paused for a second, anticipating the elder's reaction to the obscene news but to his surprise, Yoongi was unbothered—only nodding; waiting for him to continue the explanation.
