Hoseok stood up form the couch when the front door finally swung open. He had been staring at the clock for hours, watching the moonlight shift between the floorboards of their apartment as he waited in bitter, fierce silence.
He turned to face the door, and there he was. His heavy black worn-out duffel bag slung over his shoulder, head hung low, his black faint curls draping over his forehead, arms covered with a few bandages, some of them already stained with blood.
Hoseok felt tears sting his eyes. He tried holding it back for the sake of both of them but it was all too much. He scoffed as the other dropped his bag by the door.
"Four in the morning?" Hoseok croaked out, shaking his head in disbelief. "You drag your ass here four in the fucking morning, Jungkook?" He breathed, bringing a hand up to wipe a tear that slipped down his pretty face. "Are you serious right now? Are you really fucking serious?!?"
Jungkook said nothing as he quietly walked into the kitchen and took a seat on the island stool. His elbows on the counter as he settled his face within his hands, shaking his head.
Hoseok grabbed a pillow off the couch and threw it at him, hitting his back.
"Are you listening to me, Jungkook?!" He cried, no longer holding the tears back. "I'm not doing this anymore! I'm not!—I can't! " He spoke in a wet voice. "I'm not going to wait around here anymore—w-wondering if, wondering if you're gonna come home, Kook!" Hoseok picked up another pillow and threw it at him. "I—I can't fucking do it!" His voice broke as it lowered just above a whisper. "K—kook, I'm not gonna watch you kill yourself," He hiccuped. "I just can't., and I won't."
Jungkook didn't say anything, still sitting in the same position as he was before. He felt ashamed. Ashamed because he was really making Hoseok go crazy. The older had warned him many, many, many times about his hobby; boxing.—not just boxing but underground boxing, which already had its predicaments. He knew it was dangerous but he always assured his boyfriend that he would be okay and not to worry so much.
So Hoseok trusted him. He listened to what he had to say and trusted Jungkook on his word. But all of that trust had been thrown out the window after the boxer continued to come back home with multiple wounds that Hoseok would have to spend his time treating—Jungkook said it didn't hurt. Hoseok's texts would be left on delivered for hours. Sometimes he'd come home much later than stated or sometimes he wouldn't even show up until the next day, which had Hoseok worried sick. Today though was the limit.
"Every time you step foot out of here just to go to that stupid boxing ring that's almost always about to take your life," Hoseok hiccuped. "I—I'm terrified," He shook his head, heavy tears streaming down his apple cheeks. "I never know—I never know whether or not you'll come back to me—and it just kills me to think that." Hoseok used the sleeve of Jungkook's sweater to wipe his tears. "I'm—I'm not gonna sit here and watch you kill yourself." He stood up, grabbing his jacket which hung from the couch. "I've asked you nicely so many times to just stop, but you won't listen." He walked around the room, looking for his keys, finding it underneath the cushions. "So I'll leave." He slipped on his slides. "I'll leave and I won't have to suffer, or watch you suffer as well." Hoseok made his way for the door.
"God, Hoseok..." Jungkook's voice finally broke out. Heavy and hoarse as it had been the first time he spoke for the day. "Please...please don't go."
"Jungkook, I mean it. Seri—" Hoseok turned around immediately, his hand came up to cover his mouth in disbelief. Eyes big as saucers. "Oh my God..." Hoseok felt his eyes sting again. "Jungkook...who..." He let out a heavy sob just looking at the latter's mangled face.
"W—who did this to you?" Hoseok asked weakly, voice broken and so, so small. Jungkook's face was a mess of red, blue, yellow and fresh bruises that littered his hairline and his jaw. He had a gruesome black eye, along with dried blood littering his face. A few gashes along his forehead and a big busted lip, with a yellowing bruise forming underneath his jaw. The rest of him looked just as weary, beaten, and broken, and Hoseok knew taking off his shirt wouldn't make him look any better. Jungkook looked like he had been tossed around like a doll.
Hoseok dropped his bag, slowly walking towards the other, body slightly shaking from shock. As soon as he was in arms reach, Jungkook wrapped his bandaged arms around his waist and pulled him in between his legs, hugging his middle tightly, not showing any signs of letting go. His shivering hands held Hoseok at the base of his spine, tugging him so close that he fell into his lap. His head was cradled into the smaller's chest, as Hoseok closed his eyes painfully, hearing Jungkook's quiet cries start to build up, emptying into the fabric of Hoseok's (Jungkook's) sweater.
"Oh, Kookie," Hoseok whispered, his dainty hands coming up to card through Jungkook's rumpled, dishevelled hair. Hoseok rested his chin on top of the other's head, hugging him just as close, the warmth of him making the younger feel just a bit more at ease. Jungkook was filled with regret, resentment, defeat. He wasn't used to losing, and the feeling in his chest was unlike anything else. He knew he would've gone completely exasperated if he had lost the most important person in his life as well; Hoseok.
"I'm sorry, Hoseok," he breathed in the crook of Hoseok's slim neck, voice muffled by his own cries. "I'm so sorry—"
"Shhh," Hoseok shushed him, shaking his head. His lips met his forehead as he continued to card fingers through the latter's hair as well as drawing soothing circles onto his broad back. Despite all Jungkook had put him through he was still deeply in love with the older, and the younger needed him. He needed Hoseok. Hoseok couldn't go.
He couldn't make himself put one more tear on Jungkook's battered face. "I—It's going to be okay," Hoseok said instead. "It's okay. I'm right here, Kook." Hoseok tried holding back his tears again, wanting to be strong for the both of them, but it was all too much.
"No—I'm so, so, so fucking sorry Hoseok." Jungkook shook his head, lifting it up to stare at the latter on his lap. "I put you through so much, and, I wasn't being mindful of it," He brought up his large bandaid hands and cupped Hoseok's face, thumbs brushing over the elder's eyes, wiping away the tears.
"Kook—"
"No. Please, let me apologize," He shook his head again. "I've been so selfish and I wasn't taking you into consideration," Jungkook felt his eyes getting heavy with tears. "I'm such a horrible boyfriend Seokah," He hung his head low, voice going small. "I'm so fucking horrible,"
"Jungkook, please" Hoseok cupped the other's face in his small dainty hands, raising the younger's head to look at him. "Kook, don't speak about yourself like that," his voice hitched. "D—don't you ever." He shook his head, curly hair bouncing from side to side. "You're more than enough and you should know that." Hoseok felt his heart shattering, the weight of it all crashing down on him.
"Please Hoseokie, don't give up on us," Jungkook whispered, staring straight into the latter's eyes. "...Don't give up on me," He spoke, bringing their heads closer as his busted chapped lips colliding with Hoseok's soft ones. It was a short chaste peck.
Hoseok sobbed into the younger's chest. Feeling so sorry and terrified for his boyfriend. The weight of this reality crashing onto him and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. Jungkook was hurt, really hurt and Hoseok wanted so badly to just comfort him.
"Kookie," He whispered in a small voice, fragile and weak. "It's okay," Hoseok sobbed. "Hyung's here—he's here for you,"
Jungkook's hold onto Hoseok tightened even more. The thought of simply being apart even for a few seconds dreaded him.
"I love you so much, hyung." He cried, face still buried into Hoseok's neck.
Hoseok wrapped his arms over the latter's broad shoulder's pulling him in for a tighter hug.
