The words were hesitant, a little shaky, and slightly mispronounced, but they were words and that was something that caused Yoongi's lips to twitch into a genuine smile.
"Yes. Okay. Good job."
Yoongi saw the outline of the boy perk up, similar to a puppy being praised, and he nearly snorted at the mental connection he had made and decided to not tell him that.
"Je-ong-g-uk," the boy continued, choppy and slurred.
Yoongi's brow furrowed, focusing on the sounds and trying to make sense of them. "Jeong-guk?" Two taps. "Jeongguk." Another two quick taps. "Is that your name? Jeongguk?"
"Ye-s."
Surprised at the brief tendrils of relief that touched his racing thoughts, he cleared his throat to try and dislodge the anxiety that began to spark to life in the back of his mind.
The small desire to be able to see clearly itched over his skin as he watched the boy shifting on the blankets but seemed unable to stand. He remained close to the floor, dark hair and rich skin being his only telltale sign.
"Well, um," Yoongi breathes, shifting his weight from one foot to another, "are you hungry? Food is... food is good, yeah."
A snort, more human than the others before, touched his ears. "Fo-ood, yes," he garbled, still attempting his speech that was as rough as it was moments before.
But it was something.
Yoongi lingered. He wasn't sure why he was lingering by the couch, his hand still plastered amongst the cushions and staring in the general area where he saw his shape shifting and wiggling, but honestly had no clue what the kid was attempting to do. But his feet remained there, and his head was still as beaten as blender.
What was the protocol now? Dealing with the wolf, that was easy. Minimal conversation, manageable. Dealing with a human looking boy with low speaking skills? A tad harder, and enough for the sweat to make his shirt stick to his back.
"Yo-Yoongle," the boy managed out, and Yoongi startled when the boy snorted again, blankets rustling. "Yoon-gle. Yoongle."
Yoongi scowled. "The fuck? It's Yoongi not Yoongle," he corrected hastily, a little sharp.
"Yoongle," the boy tried again. Yoongi seriously couldn't tell if the kid was purposely messing up his name, or he really couldn't pronounce it correctly. Yet. "Wrong?"
"Wrong?" he repeated, head cocked to the side. "Oh, you mean, what's wrong?"
"Yes."
You're a very naked kid in my living room, I can't see you, and don't know how to talk to you which has nothing to do with your shitty speech.
"Tired," he grunted, eyes shifting to the floor and falling the trail to the kitchen. He was sure that he felt a pair of eyes following him, watching him go, and he ignored the feeling.
He set into motion the methodical way of getting three eggs from the fridge, cracking them with careful practice to not spill any out of the brightly colored duct-taped bowl, then whisking with simple flicks of his wrist using his chopsticks.
His ears pricked at every sound emitting from the living room, a perk of being mostly blind. He could hear the rustling of blankets, an unused voice that was guttural and slurred mimicking words and growling when they come out too garbled.
Switching to the pan, he poured the mixture and set to work chopping onions and tomatoes that he had found outside- after checking they actually were tomatoes and not poisonous.
He tossed them in, paying attention to the seconds that he spent cooking, his internal clock well-tuned so his food wouldn't burn.
That, and of course the smell.
Jeongguk had fallen silent within the living room, and he tried to not be unnerved from that. He knew that his peripheral vision was just as bad as his depth perception, meaning this boy could probably sneak behind him and kill him.
Min Yoongi chill the fuck out, he snapped to himself tiredly, he isn't a serial killer. He is just... an overgrown dog who looks human sometimes. No biggie.
Right. It's handled.
When the eggs were finished cooking, he put an equal amount of the eggs on two separate plates, grabbed some chopsticks, and then padded back to the living room.
Jeongguk was still in the mess of blankets, but the tan of his arm interrupted the couch, giving Yoongi the impression that he was attempting to use it, legs splayed and devoid of blankets.
A whine cut off instantly as he paused in the archway.
"Do I want to be able to see what you are doing, or should I just pretend to be completely blind to everything and just... not?" he wondered aloud, head cocked to the side.
Silence followed, and the instant desire to be able to see Jeongguk's face was bitter acid in his gut. He hated the disadvantage, not understanding the other's emotions.
Sighing, Yoongi squeezed his eyes closed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Deciding to ignore it, he put the plate on the floor near Jeongguk and settled on the couch.
He heard no movement from the Lycan, and he tried to not shift uncomfortably.
"Yoongle," the boy whispered, his name sounding clearer than it had ever before. Yoongi paused in his eating but didn't really bother to look up as he hummed in acknowledgement. "How do... how do eat you... how do you eat this?"
The sentence was spoken slowly, carefully, the ends of the words trailing off into a more animalistic sound, but better than before.
"By picking it up and putting it in your mouth," he grunted coolly, and then recoiled internally at his own actions. It wasn't the boy's fault, he knew that, but there was a reason he lived alone. "Just eat, kid."
A low growl sounded. "Not a kid," Jeongguk barked firmly, and Yoongi arched a thin brow. Jeongguk huffed, the ceramic of the plate clinking. "These- chopsticks," he paused at his own poor pronunciation, "how do you use it?"
Yoongi froze. He could have facepalmed at his own stupidity. The wolf could barely talk, why in the hell would he know how to use chopsticks? He had never once attempted to eat as a human, and he wondered why he was starting now.
"Oh," Yoongi breathed, heat creeping up his neck and staining his ears. He cleared his throat, holding up his hand in the direction of the boy. "You just- you hold them like this, okay?"
Warm fingers touched his hand. Yoongi gasped, ripping his hand back in shock, the coolness of the foreign touch like an electric jolt to his system, still tingling. His plate fumbled, but he managed to save his food.
Blankets rustled, and when Yoongi peered through his white fringe he was met by Jeongguk's face merely a few feet away from his own, hands hovering awkwardly in the air.
This close, Yoongi could make out a few hazy details of the boy's face. Like the sharpness of his jawline, soft, thin pink lips speckled white from being chapped from the dry fall air.
The ink hair was still long, hanging in unruly strands in front of his eyes that blistered amber, richer than any gold he had ever seen, and so inhuman that it was almost startling. They were wide, big nose wiggling, but he couldn't define where it started and ended, couldn't pinpoint exact details of his face, and the usual frustration was a tidal wave in his gut.
"Sorry," the boy breathed quickly, a whine catching at the end of the word, "I'm sorry. I- I didn't- I didn't mean to."
Jeongguk was close enough that he could feel the hot air of his breath turn cold as it brushed over his face. His hand, now devoid of chopsticks since he dropped them at Jeongguk's touch, fisted as he pulled it against his chest.
Unsure of what to do, how to answer, how to even speak, Yoongi only nodded his head once. Shakily, he squinted to try and find his chopsticks when he saw Jeongguk's hand shift towards him. He leaned away.
Jeongguk paused. "Here. Chopsticks."
Realizing that Jeongguk had saved them, he reached out and allowed the heat of his flesh to brush over his hands as the coolness of the metal chopsticks returned to his palm.
Swallowing to dislodge the lump in his throat, he shifted his fingers to hold the chopsticks properly. Setting them down after a minute, he held out his hand.
"Hand," he ordered firmly. Jeongguk hesitated, but then his hot hand was in his, clutching his own chopsticks desperately. "Like this." Carefully, he adjusted Jeongguk's fingers, ignoring the tremor in his own, until the position felt right. "There. Now, open, and close. Pick up. Eat."
Yoongi turned away, returning to his own meal in a feeble attempt to hide himself away. Hide the uneasy pounding of his heart, the way his hands shook, and his spine remained unbearably straight. To hide the heat of his face, and the blocks of ice that made his hands.
Twitter: JamlessAnna
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Cover Art: @RealJams