11; know

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Some weeks Hoseok gets really low.

The self-hatred takes over—the memories, too. He drifts in and out of a numbness that settles over his brain and reveals bone-aching melancholy when it lifts. It’s hard to smile and harder to laugh and hardest to wake up in the morning. He’s tired. Exhausted. The part of him that believes he isn’t worth love flares, drowning out everything else. He looks at the present and feels despondent; he looks at the future and feels hopeless.

Jimin doesn’t mention the night on the terrace again. That hurts. Hoseok wakes up too many times from the memory of Jimin’s lips against his, but it seems like Jimin is unaffected. It’s always like that. Hoseok spends hours thinking and still can’t remember the last time someone cared about him as much as he cared about them.

Everyone misses you. He thinks about the way Sejun said that, the way his eyes were so gentle, like he missed Hoseok most.

He wonders what it would feel like to be loved.

---

The door clicks open, followed by the unmistakable sound of Hoseok’s footsteps. Jimin leaps up from his perch by the window, where he has sat all night with his phone clutched so tightly in his hands there are red indents in his skin. Hoseok stumbles inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and Jimin’s heart sinks. He looks like a mess. Yellowing bruises line the side of his jaw; his clothes are wrinkled, his face drawn, dark circles standing out under his eyes. He stinks of alcohol.

“Hyung.” Jimin steps toward him hesitantly. “Are you okay? You didn’t come home.” He hadn’t slept from worry. No matter how late, Hoseok always comes home.

Hoseok doesn’t look at him as he pushes past into their room. “Fine.”

Jimin follows him, standing in the doorway while Hoseok strips off his leather jacket and t-shirt. “What happened?”

“Got in a fight. Spent the night at the station.”

At that Jimin closes the distance between them, carefully touching Hoseok’s bruised face. “Why’d you get in a fight, huh?” Suddenly Jimin feels like crying and he doesn’t know why. “Why’d you do that?”

Hoseok turns away from his touch. He steps out of his jeans and crawls into bed, pulling the covers over his head. Jimin kneels by him, resting a hand on his blanketed shoulder.

“You wanna eat something? You’re probably starving. Did the cops charge you with anything? Are you hurt anywhere else? You want some coffee?” Jimin’s babbling to stop the urge to cry. He’s never seen Hoseok this bad before.

“I just wanna sleep,” Hoseok mumbles, and it sounds so lost Jimin’s breath catches.

“Hyung, please.” He pulls the covers back from Hoseok’s face. The emptiness is written clear over his features. He looks at Jimin but his eyes see something else. “You gotta eat something. Drink some water. The place down the street has the best haejangguk, yeah? I’ll bring some and you can sleep after. How’s that sound?”

Hoseok doesn’t refuse so Jimin takes that as permission. He fills a jug of water and leaves it by Hoseok’s side, jamming his feet into the first pair of shoes he notices.

“Drink that water. I’ll be right back, okay?” He snatches up his wallet and heads to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

He’s gotten used to seeing Hoseok smile. Even when he’s feeling down, he jokes about it. Seeing him so broken hurts because most days Hoseok is the only thing keeping Jimin’s head above water and he wants to be that for him, too.

When he returns, Hoseok sits up in bed like he was waiting. Jimin uncaps the bowl of soup and starts a pot of coffee.

“This haejangguk is guaranteed to cure any hangover,” Jimin says. Hoseok lets Jimin pull him up. He stumbles a little, so Jimin wraps an arm around his waist for support.

Hoseok leans into him, his nose pressed into Jimin’s hair. “I’m tired, Jiminie.”

Jimin knows he’s not just talking about the sleepless night.

He sits Hoseok down at the counter, fetching him painkillers and a mug of coffee. He takes the seat next to Hoseok to make sure he drinks every last drop of soup. Some color returns to Hoseok’s cheeks. Jimin wants to know what happened and what’s wrong but he realizes that perhaps just being there is the extent of what he can do. When Hoseok finishes, Jimin puts away the dishes and takes Hoseok back to bed, tucking him in carefully.

“Don’t go,” Hoseok murmurs, catching Jimin’s wrist loosely as he moves to leave the room.

So even though Jimin has a practice room booked and piles of homework waiting, he lets Hoseok curl into him, threading his fingers through Hoseok’s soft hair.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“Been with so many guys but not one of them bothered to hold me, you know?” His breath comes shaky and Jimin pulls him closer. He would hunt down every one of those assholes if he could. They didn’t deserve Hoseok. If Hoseok were his, he would never let him go.

He catches himself at the last thought, a flush rising to his cheeks. Hoseok isn’t his and that’s not an option but he can’t help but think that if he could be so lucky as to have someone like Hoseok, he would do everything to make him happy. “Forget about them.”

“Can’t. Try so hard but sometimes I can’t.”

Jimin kisses his hair. Hoseok is too kind to be so sad. “You deserve the world, you know that?”

“You’re the first one to think that.”

The lump in his throat is almost unbearable. Hoseok’s pain hurts more than his own, and he realizes he really would do anything for Hoseok. It scares him. “Go to sleep, hyung.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Always.”

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