"Okay, it looks like that's the last piece of garbage," Jungkook said as he shoved a crumpled up solo cup into his garbage bag, surveying the kitchen.
Jimin sighed softly as he heaved over his own filled bag, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand exhaustedly. He caught Jungkook's longing gaze in the process, causing a blush to spread along his cheeks as he looked back down to the ground in a panic.
"Somebody's shy," Jungkook mused with a soft smile as he watched a small scowl overcast Jimin's sweet face.
"I was going to thank you for convincing my mom to let me take a shower but I changed my mind," he muttered sourly as he tied his bag up, kicking it softly.
Jungkook sniffed. "How old are you exactly?"
Jimin stuck his tongue out.
The brunette chuckled as he tied up his garbage bag. "Give me your bag and I'll talk them out to the back for you. How does that sound?" he suggested.
A coherent pout molded Jimin's lips. He peered up at Jungkook through his lashes, nodding in but a whisper.
Jungkook chuckled, walking over to Jimin to reach for his filled garbage bag. He gripped it in his hand. He then stared at the ravenette, noting how he was standing quite stubbornly with his arms crossed.
"What did I say, Jimin? You're gonna give me no choice but to eat you up if you keep acting the way you do," Jungkook warned with a sniff, catching the visible pink blush that crept onto Jimin's cheeks.
"You're going to do what to my son, exactly?"
Both boys turned around, Mister Park standing in front of the back door with his older visage drawn in curiously. He entered so quietly that niether Jimin nor Jungkook noticed his provocative presence.
"Nothing, Mister Park. Just taking the garbage out," Jungkook explained simply with a falsified smile. He walked to his own bag of garbage, picking it up in his empty hand before he walked past Jimin's father to reach the backyard.
Once both son and father were alone, Jimin suddenly felt frightened by the possible outcomes. They rarely saw each other anymore, and he was beginning to wonder if he even recognized his father. Working was one thing, but that fact that he seemed to dissapear for longer moments at a time brewed something of question within Jimin's stomach. It never made him have a good feeling.
Mister Park's heavy scowl bore into Jimin's fear-stricken eyes, the ravenette oscillating with apprehension. God, he couldn't even look his father in the eyes without feeling like he was going to burst into flames due to the pressure being locked on his trembling body.
"Do you like boys, Jimin?"
Jimin looked up at his father quickly, eyes bursting rather comically as he gawked at him. "N-no! No way. I don't like boys. What would make you think that?" he argued adamantly, face falling to his shifting feet. And then without notice, his father's polished dress shoes came into view and his jaw had been tugged upward, causing their attentions to level.
"I never see any girls around, Jimin. It's always been the same brown haired boy. It seems like he's always over. What happened to seeing his family just being a one time thing, huh?" Mister Park piled on accusation after accusation, causing Jimin to tremble. He's always been such a good boy. Never questioned by his father, and especially by such a high rate of severity. The ravenette supposed his father wouldn't be too happy seeing as Miss Park and Mister Jeon seemed to hit it off.
"Answer me!"
"Stop!" Jimin yelled, tugging his father's hand off of his face. "What would you know? You're never home! Ever! And then the one time you feel like being a dad just so happens to be the one time you're tearing me apart! Or should I even call you that? You know, mom could do so much better--"
Jimin held his cheek with both hands, face falling to the floor once again. Audible whimpers could be heard as the blazing sting lingered on his skin, piercing through it almost felt like.
"You will not talk to your father that way. Do you hear me, young man! I work day and night so you can have the things you want, you spoiled brat. Do you really think you'd be living like this if it weren't for me? I'm the reason you don't have to work. You should be grateful," Mister Park bellowed while pointing his finger directly in Jimin's face, causing the boy to recoil and fall to the floor. He'd never been hit before. He never deserved to get hit. Maybe this time it was different?
"I'm sorry," Jimin murmured quietly, still holding his cheek, desperate for the burning pain to dissipate.
"I can't hear you!"
"I'm sorry!" Jimin cried out, eyes shaking with fear as his father had taken one more step closer toward him.
"Good," Mister Park said as he tightened his tie, proceeding to fix his glasses and his slicked back hair. "I'm sorry, Jimin. But this is what happens when you cross the line," he said while toying with his dress shirt cuffs.
Jimin whimpered his acknowledgement, nodding desperately.
"I'm pleased to know you understand. Now stand up. The floor is no place for a Park," he advised coolly.
Jimin stood up rather clumsily, feeling dazed. He stabilized himself, looking up at his father. He didn't want to disappoint him anymore.
"Hey, Jimin--" Jungkook started, but then froze as soon as he saw how crestfallen the ravenette appeared. He then noticed a bright red handprint on his cheek, causing his chest to boil with anger. What had they talked about while he was throwing the garbage out?
"Jungkook, I think it's about time that you go home. I'm going to be starting dinner soon and I'm afraid there will only be enough for two," Mister Park instructed evenly.
The brunette seeked Jimin's attention, however the boy turned his face away. He didn't want to risk anything else happening.
"Okay. Bye, Jimin," Jungkook settled with as he walked past Jimin slowly, secretly brushing his fingers with his own. The ravenette tensed, fearful that his father would have seen. But that wasn't the case, and he was thankful. Thankful to have a reassuring touch subsequent to one of pain.
The sound of the door closing soon resonated within the walls of their large house, causing Jimin to tense. He didn't want to be left alone with his father. Especially right now after he had lashed out on him.
"You don't get to eat tonight, Jimin. Go to your bedroom," his father ordered coldly, causing Jimin to frown. No longer did he harbour the courage to relent, and so he pivoted on his heel and made his way upstairs dejectedly. What else was he supposed to do? He didn't want to risk getting hit again, and so he found it rather easy to follow his father's crude instructions.
The ravenette opened his bedroom door, closing it behind him. At least he felt some sort of security within his own personal four walls; however, that didn't stop his face from falling into his hands. That didn't stop him from crying weakly, which soon turned into straight up sobbing. He bit down firmly on his thumb, afraid his father would hear just how weak he really was.
He felt his tummy grumble, and so he crawled over to his backpack. Maybe cutting down on eating was good for him considering he still had a small granola bar packed away in his lunchbox. He pulled it out, quietly pealing down the wrapper before breaking a piece off and placing it on his tongue. He chewed it blissfully with tear stained cheeks, eyes falling shut and head landing against one of his walls quietly.
Jimin's empty hand lingered to his cheek yet again, causing him to wince. The pain was still very much present, and he wondered how he was going to sleep comfortably on his side. He decided to stand up and make his way on over to his desktop, pealing open his laptop. He figured that maybe this time in isolation would be a good time to work on his project, but seeing his reflection in the black screen caused him to swallow roughly. He felt tears prick at his eyes once again, causing him to close the laptop shut. He sighed heavily, looking forward and now just only catching Jungkook staring back at him.
He held a paper against the window, and although the words were written backwards, Jimin could still make it out.
Are you okay?
Jimin smiled softly, however shook his head with placidity. He gripped his lower lip with his teeth, beyond farklempt. He watched as Jungkook went to work again at writing something down on his paper. He wished at this moment they had exchanged numbers.
xxx-xxx-xxx
Jimin tunneled his vision to the numbers, assuming it was Jungkook's and that the boy must have somehow read his mind. He pulled his phone out, plugging the numbers in and saving it as contact before dialing it up, placing his device to his face. And then he waited patiently as Jungkook reached for his ringing phone, pressing answer before mirroring the ravenette's actions.
"He hit you, Jimin. Didn't he?"
Jimin had been trying so hard to keep it all in, however those words being the catalyst to trigger the tears rolling down his cheeks. He whimpered quietly, hand clamping his mouth to stifle his cries.
"It's okay, baby. Go ahead and cry. I'm right here, you understand?"
Jimin nodded jerkily, finding it hard to keep his sobs in. "I-I need you," he admitted brazenly, causing his stomach to stir. "B-but you can't come over, so j-just... please just keep talking. I need to hear y-your voice."
"Okay. What do you want me to talk about, baby?"
"Baby..." Jimin whispered into the phone in return, feeling his heart tighten in his chest. "I like that name," he muttered quietly, a blush brushing his cheeks once again.
"Good. I'm glad. I'll stay on the phone with you the whole night. Just hang in there, baby. I'm here."