Midnight In Seoul || Jikook Au

♠ || mere minute of escape || ♠

♪ how to breathe, by danny defier

❗tw//  violence • blood

The streets exploded into a rave of blues and reds as the police cars screeched to a stop. The officers scattered on the pavement. Their firm steps echoed through the puddled alleys where Jimin stood, pressed against the brick wall. In his hold was the bleeding boy.   

Jimin slowly took off his hoodie and wrapped it around the boy's wound, stopping the constant blood flow. He placed his hand over the boy's mouth, muffling his hushed murmurs. He wrapped the boy's arm over his shoulder, quickly making his way to the apartment. 

Jimin was barely able to stumble towards his home with the extra weight pulling him down. His throat burned from the heavy intake of frosted air. Jimin would be lying if he said he wasn't scared. He was absolutely mortified but not for his own life which was threatened by a gun to his head, but for the life of a stranger who he had met two minutes ago. 

Jimin had zero explanation to why this random brunette held such value to him but he didn't pay it any mind. After a hazed minute of dizzying thought, Jimin found himself in front of the dented metal door to his apartment. 

He pushed it open, still balancing the weight of the brunette. He waddled through the halls, constantly stopping to hush the mumbling male. 

"Hey hey, please stop. These walls are like paper. If any of my neighbors find an unconscious attractive boy like you..." Jimin stopped, shaking his head, "It just won't end well." The boy groaned and nuzzled his head deeper into Jimin's neck. 

"Alright let's get you to my place." Jimin eagerly pushed forward. He walked a few doors down to a chipped oak one with a rusted number plate that read 123.

Jimin entered the cramped home after fumbling with the keys for a few minutes. He walked to his bedroom, kicking aside empty ramen containers on his way. Jimin placed him on the bed and removed the blood dyed hoodie that was tied around the latter's shoulder. Tugging at the hem of his shirt, Jimin pushed it over the boy's head struggling from the sleeping position he was in. 

His bare back was fully exposed. There was a long streak of red that glistened in the dim lights of the room. It trailed down to the crease in his back, highlighting every muscle that lined it. The initial bullet hole was right below his shoulder blade, gashed into a thin layer of his flesh. 

Jimin's heart thumped in his throat. His hands felt clammy as his nails dug into his palm, creasing the flesh from the anxious feeling that pitted his stomach. This poor boy's life was in his hands now. There was no place for error. 

Jimin took hold of the first aid kit that he had stashed away deep into the medicine cabinet in his kitchen. The small box reeked of cheap herbal oils used for a variety of medical replacements, ranging from allergies to blood pressure control. 

Jimin opened the container, hearing the soft click of the seals flick in his ears. He pulled out a thick cotton role of bandage that had been all bundled up in one corner and placed it beside him. 

Jimin held a soaked rag in hand and gently began tracing it over the boy's skin, watching as the white cloth stained to pink. Then, he took his tweezers which he had cleaned with alcohol and  pulled out the small metal bullet that had pierced through his skin. Thankfully, the bullet hadn't gone too far deep. 

The wound began to rush out blood from Jimin's tampering. Without a second thought, he placed a disinfected cotton patch over it. The brunette flinched subconsciously from the stinging sensation even in his blacked out state. 

In no time, Jimin had wrapped him up in a thick ribbon of bandage. It tied around the males shoulder and across his back, covering the top half of his chest. This part had been particularly tricky seeing as Jimin had to constantly push him up into a sitting position. 

After placing him down under the covers of the bed, Jimin used the back of his hand to wipe away the forming sweat on his forehead. His eyes wandered to the clock and exhaustingly sighed as he had spent nearly two hours patching the stranger up. 

The morning light peaked its warm beams through the blinds and kissed Jimin's skin. The bustling cars rang through the streets with people's morning calls erupting through the room. everyone's conversation could be heard from Jimin's room. He could hear the drunks passing by or the horny males begging for sex. 

There was the occasional gang fight or highschool bullying that scattered the alley. None of it was kept secret through these paper thin walls. Jimin's thoughts would wander back to a time when he lived in a beautiful house in a good neighborhood. When he'd wake up to the tingling smell of fresh pancakes or the full laughter that would complete the rooms. 

But life moves forward, and stops for no one. So here he was, Collapsed onto a ripping leather couch, Surrounded by his thoughts and his heavy eyelids, His eyes tracing the blank ceiling before being consumed by the darkness of sleep that his body begged for. And at last, he had escaped this world. Even for a mere minute. 

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