Work Text:
Seokjin isn’t sure how long he was unconscious for. The skies had been dark when he fell asleep and it’s still dark, blinking owlishly at the gap between his night curtains, trying to discern the time of day without moving his body. His joints pop and muscles ache when he rolls over and does a full body stretch, accidentally shoving RJ off the bed. He groans.
“Hyung?”
A strip of light spills into the room.
“Tae?” His voice is hoarse and cracks. The door opens wider.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
He’s feeling the fatigue from his intermittent slumber, bogged down by medication and anesthesia, but it’s too many words and his throat isn’t ready for that yet, so he lets out an indiscernible noise. Taehyung understands. Like telepathy, as always.
"Do you want to get up?"
In a daze, he nods.
“Okay, let’s get you out of there. Come join me and watch some YouTube.” Careful of his cast, Taehyung rubs his back when he slowly sits up, hugging him close by the waist. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need the bathroom?”
The question makes him realise how parched his throat is. “Water…” he trails off.
Taehyung rushes back out, feet thumping on the floor in his haste and returns with a bottle of water. He's grateful for Taehyung screwing the bottle cap open before passing it to him.
“When did you arrive?”
“I couldn’t be at the hospital so I was actually already here before you came home,” Taehyung holds his bandaged arm. “But I was showering and you went straight to bed.”
Seokjin gaze drops to his lap, realising he was still in his grey LV hoodie and sweatpants. “Oh. It’s been a day, then.”
“Slightly less. But yeah. Do you want a shower first?”
Not feeling particularly grimy or greasy, Seokjin cuts himself some slack and shakes his head. He can take one later. "Nah, not yet. Later."
"Sure? I can help," Taehyung wiggles his brows suggestively.
Narrowing his eyes, Seokjin purses his lips, "You have ulterior motives."
"It's hardly ulterior. I have Motives," Taehyung declares, squeezing his upper thigh.
Seokjin swats him away, laughing. "Shameless. Did you mention food?"
“I didn't, but there is food. Mom sent some. Come out and eat, I just heated it up thinking you'd be awake by now.”
“Yours or mine?” he nuzzles the hand Taehyung has on his cheek, lightly caressing.
“Both?” Taehyung smiles. “They dropped by earlier. You have abalone congee and chicken soup to choose from.”
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
"They insisted. You needed to rest."
“I’m spoiled,” his face lights up. His legs work perfectly fine, but Taehyung hugs him close the moment he lifts himself off the bed that he’s momentarily fooled into thinking he’s more injured than he really is and it makes him snicker.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he smiles, refusing to explain, instead clinging to Taehyung tighter. “Can we eat on the dining table?” he asks, seeing the thermal containers and utensils on the coffee table.
“Why?”
“It’s easier for me to eat.”
“But I prefer the coffee table.”
“Then you sit there and I’ll eat at the dining table,” he pouts when Taehyung steers him to the couch anyway.
“I’m feeding you so just sit here and listen to me.”
“I have my right hand, Tae.”
“I do too, now shut up and let me feed you.”
Seokjin puts up a kitten fight just for the sake of it so Taehyung roughly manhandles him to sit on the couch with a few pats on his ass, careful enough to give the injured finger ample space.
“Soup? Congee?”
“Congee first. I’m starving.”
He kind of wants to have his meal in peace, but Taehyung’s earnestly feeding him and knows that his boyfriend’s trying to make up for all the dates they couldn’t go on and joint work opportunities they had no choice but to let slip. In fact, they’ve been so busy individually so Seokjin’s been spending more than half his free time in Taehyung’s apartment than his own.
“Hyung, doesn’t it feel too empty here?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, examining his bare off-white walls and minimalistic lamp fixtures. His spotless kitchen and marble dining table looks like an Ikea showroom catalogue. The only embellishments being his jumbo RJ and the guitar gifted by Chris Martin standing tall by the entryway. “I’m in the game room most of the time anyway.”
“You spend more time in my place anyway.”
Scrolling through his social media and emails in between mouthfuls, the reality of his situation finally starts to sink in. White noise fills his ears, blocking out Taehyung's empty chatter as his brain starts filling the gaps in his thoughts. Concerts are coming up and he’ll have to fly off soon. He can’t do rehearsals normally anymore, he’s just bringing the entire team down. It’s just ironic how much he nags about health and safety and yet he’s the one getting injured so often. How can he participate in the stage that they've worked so hard for like this? He needs to apologise for ruining the formation and throw everything they’ve practised and there’s no time-
“Stop,” Taehyung commands with a snap of his fingers. “Wherever your mind wandered off to just now, stop.”
He opens his mouth for the last scoop of congee, pretends to be clueless. “Hmm? Where did my mind wander off to just now?”
“I can’t rehearse. I’ve disrupted the formation. People are going to see me with this white cast on my hand. I’ve ruined everything and the others are too nice but they’re probably mad at me, blah blah blah,” Taehyung pushes the empty bowl aside and opens up the container of chicken soup, “Do you want this too?”
He doesn’t think he wants anymore but the aroma of the herbal chicken makes him salivate. It's Taehyung's mom's original. “This is your mom’s chicken soup,” he beams. “Yeah I want it. Looks so good. When was the last time I tasted her food?”
“Good. You slept for a whole day so now you need to eat more. She might even send more once she hears about your fridge situation.”
Seokjin scoffs. "I don't recall your fridge being any better than mine."
"I have eggs and milk and bread and cereal and bacon. And kimchi."
"Yeah, thanks to me."
"You're so sour."
"I am stating facts."
Taehyung mimics a grumpy face, lifting the spoon up to his lips. He blinks, accepting without fussing, intrusive thoughts seeping through the cracks once again.
The snap of Taehyung's fingers is louder this time.
"It's not what you're thinking," he pushes his lips out.
“Please, it’s written all over your face,” Taehyung gestures at his face. “I can read you like an open book. You need to stop.”
“Those are facts, actually. I was thinking about facts,” he tries to slither his way out of the discussion.
“You were making that face like you’ve wronged the entire nation or committed some crime in your past life. And nope, you’re wrong.”
“What?” Seokjin laughs. “Nonsense!”
“You don’t know it but I do. I look at you all the time.”
“Ah, that’s heart fluttering.”
Taehyung withholds the spoon of soup that’s right in front of his mouth, spilling a few drops. “I’m serious. We’ve been through this. Nothing’s your fault, you did nothing wrong, just focus on recovering and we’ll pull through like we’ve always done. As a team.”
“It is a fact that I disrupted practice and the entire formation.”
“We all have. Shit happens.”
“It’s the Grammy’s though,” he sighs, feeling his defenses crumble. “Everyone's eyes are on us. Anticipating. It’s Yoongi’s dream.”
“Don’t try to drag Yoongi-hyung into this.”
Taehyung’s eyes shoot lasers and silences the rest of his flimsy excuses. He lets out a mini adorable screech instead - to appease his lover and disagree.
“Hyung, look at me,” Taehyung puts the bowl away and cups his face, “look at me. It doesn’t matter if it’s the Grammy’s or any other award show. You’re more important than any of that. If you can’t perform in full capacity this year, we can do it next year. If not next year, the next two years. There are so many award shows and trophies out there but there’s only one of you. We're gonna keep going together for a long time. You hear me?”
He can’t answer. Can’t stop his lips from quivering from the weight of Taehyung’s sincerity and he doesn’t know if he deserves any of this. A tear must have escaped his eyes unknowingly, because Taehyung rubs the pad of his thumb on his cheek and wraps him up in the warmest hug that only Kim Taehyung could provide.
The spontaneous release felt cathartic.
"Ahhh... Kim Taehyung. What would I do without you?”
“I know.”
"Brat. I love you," he mouths into the juncture of Taehyung's neck and shoulders.
“I love you more than you love me,” Taehyung disagrees.
“I don’t think you understand, that’s not possible.”
“I am feeding you right now and you dare to say you love me more than I do?”
Their sappy face off ends in an eskimo kiss, and they burst out into giggles, lips brushing in a chaste kiss.
“Finish your food already,” Taehyung pretends to scold.
“This argument is not over yet,” pouting when Taehyung kisses his bulging cheek.
-
His medicine-addled body could barely handle a one hour work meeting to discuss the loose ends of his injury and upcoming schedules. He reviews and approves the weverse announcement write up but doesn’t stay for the release. He dozes off in the short car ride back home and his manager ensures he’s safe and sound before driving off. He double checks his texts, missed calls and sets an alarm for his next dose of medicine then retires into bed for the day. He scrolls through his social media at the edge of his consciousness when a notification pops up.
His bandmates are doing a vlive and despite his exhaustion, watches the entire thing when he notices Taehyung yawning away. He tries not to but he feels terrible for keeping his lover up every non working hour. Despite knowing Seokjin was perfectly capable on his own, Taehyung insists on being by his side through the night, taking care of him, feeding him and singing him lullabies.
He calls his manager to buy Taehyung’s favourite ice cream and passes out before he can hang up.
-
Seokjin jolts awake at the sound of his phone alarm going off. A work hazard.
He digs around his bed for the device, finding none, when Taehyung comes barging in.
“It’s here,” Taehyung produces the phone in his hand. “Sorry babe, I didn’t want the noise to disrupt your sleep so I kept it outside with me. Why have you got this alarm on?”
“I need to take my meds.”
Spotting tiny packets of pills on his nightstand, Taehyung leaves the room to bring in a bottle of water. “Do you want your phone?”
Seokjin considers it for a second. “Did anyone call?”
“Nope.”
“Text?”
“Work stuff.”
“Then no.”
“Okay baby, I’ll keep it outside so you can sleep.”
His phone vibrates violently just as Taehyung tucks him into bed.
“Weverse. Namjoon-hyung. He’s commenting on lotsa posts,” Taehyung explains. “By the way, why’d you get a whole carton of ice-cream? There’s like fifty! The manager was all flustered when he called me about it. I dumped them all in the freezer.”
“They’re for you. You can have them all.”
“A whole carton?”
“I was half asleep when I made the order…”
“Oh, so sweet of you, my love,” Taehyung leans down to drop a kiss on his forehead. “Thank you. We’ll have some together when you’re feeling better, okay?”
He tilts his chin up, pleased when Taehyung acknowledges the silent request and presses a sweet, soft kiss on his mouth.
“Nothing important going on, then?”
“Nope, I’ll take care of this for you. Scream for me if you need anything.” Taehyung slots his phone into his sweats pocket. “Will wake you up if there’s an earthquake.”
“Thanks, baby. You're the best.”
“Good night, sweet dreams and I love you so much, Seokjin-ah.”