"Here I am trying to teach
the death within me how to live."
— Jean Cocteau
Taehyung POV
I'm not sure if I was given an unlimited amount of time would I have been able to guess what Jungkook needed me for. The idea of me needing to be a knight was some metaphor his little book worm brain must have come up with, not considering the fact that he was talking to someone else who can't keep up.
"Kook, what's up?" I asked again, it was the third time. The younger boy was just fiddling around his apartment and doing a real bad job at pretending to be busy. First it was his shoes, they needed to be neatly placed by the door, then it was the books he left out on the coffee table that needed to go back to their original places next to the tv. This whole time he still didn't turn on a light or open the curtains. "Hey, Jungkook." I said, my long strides making it easy to reach for his hand and tug him away from he bookshelf.
"What?" he asked. My gaze flickered down and I noticed the whiteness to his fingers around the spine of the leather book, his grip tight. His once black hair sat messy on his head, a dusty rose color that didn't match the dark bags that still remained under his eyes. I reached up to tuck a strand of the soft locks behind his ear, "What's going on up there?" my words came out a soft whisper, followed by a small smile when the younger boy seemed to visibly relax.
Jungkook tossed the book gently onto the couch cushion, his now free hand soon finding mine. "Come help," was all he said.
It was a short walk to his bedroom. The lights were all off of course, and a book lay open on his desk. There were papers next to the novel that lay blank and accompanied by others that were crumbled up from frustration. Jungkook abandoned my hand, leaving my arm to drop to my side as he walked to his bathroom, the already ajar door letting out a subtle glow from the single candle on the sink. "I need your help." he said again.
The younger boy has already stressed this, without anymore elaboration or hint at what I should do next. "Jungkook, you gotta tell me what to do," I said walking slowly over to him. He was now crouched down on the tiles, his fingers holding onto the little knob that would open the drawer under the sink. "What are we doing baby?" I whispered, crouching down myself beside him.
Jungkook didn't seems affected by the sweet nickname, at least not negatively. However there was that damn habit he had of chewing on his bottom lip, nibbling on the pink flesh like the anxiety eating away at himself.
He pulled open the small doors under the sink and shoved a bin of something back further, the lack of light keeping the contents hidden. Instead he grabbed a box of something, a few of the others of its same kind falling over and make the contents inside rattle subtlety.
"This was a bad idea," Jungkook said once we both stood, gesturing to his head of hair. The box in his hands was a dyeing kit, the color black. I wasn't going to consider the reason why he had so many unused ones already prepared for future scenarios.
I rolled my eyes with a soft chuckle, "I told you, I like it."
He still seemed unsure, but cracked a small smile anyways, "That's not good enough to keep it, besides I like it when other people touch my hair."
I took the box from his hands and read the side quickly, it seemed relatively easy and I'm assuming he's already done this before. But reading the instructions anyways helped distract the thoughts entering my mind after his innocent confession about liking his hair being touched by other people.
He went to go get a chair and a towel to lay on the edge of the sink, sitting down with his back facing it so he could lean back when I needed to rinse his head under the faucet. As he got situated I opened the hair dye box, pulling out the gloves with the little brush and applicator bottle. "You know maybe you should take of your shirt so it doesn't accidentally get stained."
"Taehyung," Jungkook said, looking up at me from his seated position, "It's a black shirt."
I simply shrugged, "Better safe than sorry right?" my teeth bit into the inside of my bottom lip, a desperate attempt to hold back the smirk begging to show. He must have noticed the playful nature to my request, narrowing his eyes just a bit before his tongue poked out against his cheek.
"Is this how you flirt Taehyung?" Jungkook laughed lightly, the amusement clear on his face as he sat on the chair in front of the sink, hands placed on his muscular thighs that were straining the white fabric of my borrowed jeans. I hummed and set the dye bottle on the edge of the sink, using my knee to nudge his own to the side and allow myself to step between his now parted legs. Jungkook kept looking up at me with that devilish look and hooded eyes, a little less intimidating with the soft colored locks atop his head.
I motioned with my hands for the younger boy to lift his arms, the smirk remaining on my face as he obliged even with a roll of his eyes. I didn't let my eyes leave his dark ones, those orbs with the swirling storm of stories and secrets emotions that I wanted to pull apart piece by piece. My fingers slipped underneath the hem of the shirt covering his torso, feeling the heat from his skin and subtle tense of his stomach muscles against my palms. Allowing my fingertips to trail up the length of his chest and feeling every gentle curve of muscle, I pulled the fabric along until it reached his head and slipped off nicely.
The sting of my bottom lip from my teeth sinking in was barely noticeable, especially since all my attention was on the fine display of golden skin stretching over a lean torso and abs I wanted to spend my nights tracing. Of course my drifting thoughts had to be interrupted by the all too familiar sound of sarcasm.
"Well done Tae, you can take off a shirt." Jungkook mumbled, his hands ruffling through his peachy colored hair to fix it a bit from the shirt coming off, "Let's get on with it."
It was my turn to roll my eyes, sighing softly and slipping on the gloves before reading the instruction a couple more times while Jungkook complained about 'just going for it without hesitation.' The boy simply has no patience, or was it just a lack of care?
Turns out it was quite easy. The brush and applicator bottle made it simple and I made sure the color was evenly distributed throughout the back which was his concern over doing it himself. "I think that's good, now it stays in for thirty minutes and then you rinse." I instructed.
"Yeah, yeah, I know what to do from here." Jungkook said standing up from the chair, twisting both ways and popping his joints along his spine while I shook my head at the nasty sound.
Jungkook walked out from the bathroom for whatever reason, perhaps a snack, he seems to always be hungry like a growing teenager. I decided to clean up the bathroom a bit, moving the chair to the side while I discarded the used gloves and bottle into the waste bin.
It wasn't like I was trying to snoop. I was already straightening up what we did and I remember Jungkook knocking over other boxes of hair dye. I simply wanted to pick them up again. I wasn't intending on finding all the prescription medication shoved to the side with labels scratched out in thick black ink.
Some were old with the labels almost discolored, but the fact that they were kind of full made me feel relieved. Those dark assumptions peaking through my mind and trying to figure out what this boy is up to. Maybe it's his, I reasoned. But then why would he color over the medication name and owner.
It was the next few bottles that I picked up that sent my stomach into a swirl of negativity. The familiar rattle of pills that comes along with the orange prescription bottles was absent and through the clear container I could see the small bags of something else. The different shades of whatever drugs he got his hands on and kept hidden under here with strawberry smelling bath soaps.
Isn't he suppose to be clean? That's what I thought Jimin meant by saying it's been almost a year since things were bad.
Before I could really process anything I dropped the bottle back into the basket and slid it to the side, straightening up the boxes of dyes and trying not to look like I just saw a ghost if he was to walk in.
"Hey Tae!" he called from somewhere in the apartment and I unintentionally flinched, already prepared to spit out some excuse.
"Uh, yeah what." my voice echoed more from the bathroom.
I could hear him getting closer as I shut the small door under the sink and picked up some stray pieces of toilet paper that fell after I tried to clean up some spilled dye during the process of putting it on his head.
His damp head peeked in around the corner, "Are you hungry?" he asked, I nodded.
Jungkook's eyes shifted around the bathroom before they landed on me again, "I got some leftover takeout we can heat up and some cartoons on my laptop."
I nodded again and tossed the toilet papers into the waste bin, "Okay sounds good."
Jungkook also nodded and stepped aside, pushing the door open a bit and motioning with his head for me to exit. I obliged.
It didn't matter what we ate. The new knowledge lurking in my brain was eating away and feeding my guilt for things I've thought I was going to do to Jungkook, just like his anxiety and issues have eaten away at everything he is. I suddenly felt the need to be honest with him, knowing the fragile state he could be in and the small voice of Jimin threatening me about never hurting him. But the side that always won spoke louder, the side of secrecy and wanting to conform. The side my family and sister was on. The side that made me eat my meal quietly and continuously check my watch to make sure he didn't keep the dye in for too long.
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