Hooked | JJK | Two

 Pair: UndergroundFighter!Jungkook x f!reader 

Summary: Walking away from your brother was never what you intended, you just wanted to run from the ghosts of your past. But now you’re back home and ready to pick things up from where you left off. If only things could be that easy, right? 

There’s a new guy living in your house, your brother’s best friend, someone you can’t help but grow close to. And the more you find out about him, the more you learn about yourself. An underground fight club, a newspaper competition, an overprotective brother and secrets you can’t seem to escape from. Did you make the right decision by coming back? Or did you just put yourself and those you love in danger? 

Genre: Series, fluff, smut, angst. All the aus: non-idol, underground fighter, brother’s best friend, roommates, rap-scene, chaebol. 

Chapter warning: Mentions of blood and wounds and knives.

WC: 7.7

 JUNE 7TH | 15:19

If only staring at an open Word document would make words magically appear on the screen. A lot of your problems would surely be solved. 

You were sitting on your office-style chair, legs folded in a crisscross position, leaning against the desk of your bedroom. You started to write what should be a game changer article, a masterpiece worthy of the Choson Ilbo, at least three times. But you had absolutely no inspiration for it this afternoon. You hated everything you wrote, wiping it out completely after you barely reached a full paragraph.  

You didn’t think you had completely lost your writing abilities yet, but things weren’t looking good. 

Crestfallen, both hands on your thighs, a slight pout on your lips: that’s how Taehyung found you when he returned to your bedroom after having gone downstairs to raid your snack cupboard. 

Your best friend was balancing a double pack of hard boiled eggs and the spice-free cup noodles you always kept stocked just for him in one hand, as the other brought the noodles to his mouth. His eating pout was on, and his eyebrows raised as he looked at the blank page ahead of you. 

“Still nothing?” he asked through a mouthful, making you pull a disgusted face. 

“Nothing is coming out. It’s not even that I can’t put words into the doc, I literally have no words in my head in the first place.” you sighed, using your hands to push yourself away from your desk and turn the chair around so you could look at the man. “As Jin would say, I don’t have think.” 

“Oof, that’s rough. What do you think it’s the problem?” Taehyung bounced when he fell onto your mattress, letting the boiled eggs pack rest beside him as he settled at the edge of the bed. 

“A boring subject? An existential crisis? Have I been fooling myself thinking this was a good idea? Should I just give up and accept my fate? Has all of this been an excuse to stall the plan the universe has chosen for me?” you went on and on on a dramatic rant, shaking your head when the boy offered you one of the eggs and then a scoop of the noodles. 

The Netizens Impact on South Korean Culture should be an interesting theme. You had done a lot of reading on the subject, extensive research on online forums and chatted with twitter users that carried a lot of followers. You knew what you wanted to talk about. 

You just lacked the knowledge of how you wanted to talk about it. 

Technically, this shouldn’t be giving you as much headache as it was. It was just a small writing contest, created by a small newspaper, meant to give a chance to journalism students and beginners who were just starting out in the field. 

You were neither of those things. 

But writing was something you always wanted to do and, for the longest time, it’s what you believed you were good at. Not writing lyrics like your brother, not even coming up with fantastic stories from otherworldly characters, but you liked to write about real people and real life. 

The depth of humanity and layers of your world was something that always fascinated you. 

This could all be a fantasy of your own, however, one that carried on for too long and maybe you should have left your article writing hobbies in High School. Just because you worked for your school's newspaper as the chief editor and main writer (it was a small team made up by wide eyed students such as yourself, and you knew most people didn't care about it all that much in the first place) didn't mean you were good enough to do it as a profession. 

Besides, you already had two years of business school under your belt, a scholarship waiting for your return to university. And it was that same return that you had been dreading ever since you stepped foot in South Korea again. 

You knew that’s what was being expected of you. To get back to your boring major, one that you were good at, but that didn’t bring you joy or excitement. But it was still a safe path, a way for you to reach the degree required for you to enter the family’s company, pave your way through a boring nine to five office job until you were trusted and apt enough to inherit the whole thing. 

Namjoon had already escaped that fate when he covered himself in tattoos, worked out how to stick a needle through people’s skin with beautiful designs, and kicked it away completely when his rapping group started getting serious. 

That swift escape was what you were trying to do when you signed up for this specific contest. 

There wasn’t a pot of gold at the end of it, a grand prize that would change your life, not even an internship that would grant you a spot inside the small news company. But you didn’t need any of that. It was more for self convincing purposes than anything else. 

If you managed to write a good, interesting piece, one that got picked from the thousands of other articles that would no doubt be sent in alongside yours, and it actually got published, you’d give it a try. A real try. It would be the proof you needed to be certain you could do well in that field, that you had what it takes to be some kind of journalist. 

You promised yourself you would take this chance to do something you actually cared about, change majors and start over. So while you didn’t have a lot of pressure when it came to writing this article, the blank document was mocking you. 

“I’m not high enough to talk about the universe and shit, so if you wanna go deep into the matters of why we’re here and what we're meant to do with our lives, then at least crack open a window.” Taehyung deadpanned, making you chuckle. 

“Sorry. I just feel lost and I hate it.”

“You’re funny.” he said with a boyish giggle and you frowned. 

“What do you mean?”

“You leave for two years, you travel the world for eighteen months–” he started, waving the chopsticks in the air as if it would help him make his point. 

“I didn’t travel the world–” you scoffed. 

“–you go away to ‘find yourself’ and you come back more lost than when you left?” was his conclusion and you could see the point. 

“How is that funny?” you huffed, getting up from your chair when your folded legs started to grow dormant. 

“Oh, did I say funny? Sorry, I meant pathetic.”

“You’re not helping.” 

“I’m not here to help, I’m here to eat your food.” Tae finished his noodles with an obnoxious slurp. 

“Be for real.”

You knew Taehyung could be blunt, it was one of the reasons you both got along so well, you were alike in that sense. But you were too terrified about your future and impending business major to handle that kind of attitude right now.

As he worried about cracking and peeling the shell of his egg, you walked to the window of your second floor bedroom, looking out into the backyard. 

You could see the decently sized pool, right in the middle of green grass, the kennel that had never been used before Bam moved in, and the most recent remodeled part of the house:

Cypher’s lab. 

That’s how the boys called the pool-house-turned-home-studio where rap line and Jeongguk worked on their music. 

For all you knew, Cypher had won a rap battle a year ago, and the grand prize gave them enough money to redesign the pool house that was only ever used to store junk. While your brother had access to more than enough money for the remodeling without needing to use the prize cash, all three rappers had agreed that it would be the best way for all of them to feel like they owned the place together. 

Otherwise it would just be Joon’s studio. 

You could see the Do Not Disturb sign on the door was on, so the four of them were working there right now. 

“I’m sorry, I know this is important to you.” Tae’s voice brought your attention back to him. “But you’re not gonna find a good story to write about just staring at your screen. The world is out there, not in here. As far as I know, Namjoon hyung hasn't put bars on your windows yet.”

“My topic really is boring, isn’t it?” you groaned, making your way to your bed and plopping down on it, face first. 

“Eh, there are better ones.” he said after popping the egg yolk into his mouth. 

“I considered writing about The Warehouse and the whole underground rave scene in Seoul.” you told him, pushing your body up by your elbows so you could look at him. Taehyung’s eyebrows raised for you to continue as he chewed. “But I don’t have enough data to write a whole piece about it. I’d have to do more field work, which means going back there. And I know I put up a fight about it, but I’m not in a rush to repeat what happened last Saturday.” 

“I get it. But if you do wanna go back there, I’d go with you. Y'know I’m your partner in crime.” Taehyung stated, but you squinted. After the whole breakup thing with Minsu, he wasn’t all that keen on leaving his apartment, so for him to offer it, just like that, made you suspicious. 

“Are you trying to find a new dealer?” you snorted after a while, coming to that conclusion rather easily. 

“Nuh uh, I’m a loyal customer. Eun-ha has my heart and my weed money.”

“Your heart? Tae, don’t tell me you’re thinking about dating your drug dealer!” you sat on the bed, ready to pillow-knock some sense into him. 

“What? No! I am a one woman man, even if said woman already has a new man.” he grumbled and you felt bad for the sad look on his almond eyes. 

“Minsu didn't get a glow up boyfriend, just so you know.” 

“That’s good to know indeed.”

Now that you had given up on writing your article today, maybe forever if you didn’t manage to come up with a more interesting subject, you could tell Tae about the real reason why you called him over today. You needed to tell him something that couldn’t be explained over text or a call. 

“There’s something else about that night that I didn’t tell you.” you hushed, getting out of your bed to close the door of your bedroom. You were pretty sure the boys were still in their studio, but you wouldn’t be so careless regardless. 

“I knew there was something else you weren't telling me about the party!” he mimicked your hushed tone. 

“Before you get too excited, it was just a kiss.” 

“You kissed someone? The scandal!” Taehyung mocked and you rolled your eyes, threatening to steal the egg he hadn’t peeled yet. 

“Shut up, it was a hell of a kiss, okay? And it’s not the number of kisses that matter, but who I was kissing.” you told him, climbing back on the bed and settling in the middle of it. Taehyung turned around to face you, leaning in as if you were school kids sharing secrets. 

“Actually, I am intrigued about that because, as far as I knew, you only had eyes for Guk.”

If your silence wasn’t telling enough, the blush on your cheeks definitely was. Taehyung gasped and covered his mouth with a hand. 

“Stop fucking with me, you kissed Jeongguk?!” his words were –thankfully– muffled by his hand and you nodded. “And?!”

“And… what?”

“Are you two secretly hooking up now?!” he wanted to know. “You know, that’s how it started between Minsu and I. And Hoseok hyung and Angel noona. And Yoongi hyung and Jiminie–”

“We’re not hooking up, it was just a kiss.” you repeated, waving the air to cut his rant short. “No one knows about it, I only told you and I don’t think Guk told anyone when everyone he knows is also friends with oppa.”

“Yeah, we share a studio at the tattoo shop, we’re together for twelve hours everyday and he didn’t tell me anything.” your friend actually looked a little offended by that. “And I know for a fact he didn’t tell Jiminah either, or he would have told me too.”

You nodded because you knew Jiminie wasn’t the best at keeping juicy secrets like this one. He would always tell Tae, and Tae would tell you right after. 

“But here’s the thing I don’t get.” Taehyung started again as he split his focus while peeling the second egg. “You both obviously have a crush on each other, I have been saying that for literal years–”

“I’ve known him for three months–”

“–why was it just one kiss?”

“We got interrupted that night, then the whole ass fight broke out, and even though we live together, it’s hard to find time alone with him so we could talk.” a fact you were very much annoyed about. Being so close to him, while still being so out of reach. 

“Then don’t talk. Wait for hyung to go to sleep, march into Guk’s room and… don’t talk.” the suggestive advice was served with a side of wiggly eyebrows. “I know it’s been a while for him, so it shouldn’t take much.”

“How do you know that?” this time you actually accepted a bite of the egg. 

“Guys are gross and we talk, if Jeonggukie had fucked someone in recent times, I would have heard about it.” Tae said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “We share a studio. Sometimes we get bored, work is slow this time of year.”

“That’s disgusting and misogynistic and not the point here.”

“The point is that you want to kiss our maknae again.” he pointed out the obvious, correcting himself when he realized: “Although I guess you’re the maknae again, now that you’re back.” 

Ignoring the whole conundrum of how many months you were younger than Jungkook, you said: “I do, but I wanna talk to him about it first.”

“Why?” that seemed to bewilder him. 

“What do you mean why?”

Tae snorted. “This wasn’t your first kiss, don’t tell me guys in America were so boring you dated every single guy you hooked up with.” 

“No, because I knew I wouldn’t stay in America forever, so why would I want something serious with them?” 

“You want something serious with Guk?”

That conclusion was one you hadn’t reached on your own yet, needing this conversation with your best friend and the slip of your tongue to realize that maybe you did. 

“I guess. I don’t know? I would like to know if that's a possibility?” you shrugged. 

“Huh.”

“What?” you pressed, wanting to know what that reaction meant. “Do you know more than you’re telling me? Is he like… Against relationships or something?”

Taehyung stopped to think about it, which worried you. Before you could overthink everything, he said: “I mean, I don’t know. He never told me anything like that. Just… I’ve known him for a few years now and I never knew him to have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“And there is the small matter of him being close friends with your brother.”

“Right.”

Taking pity on you, Taehyung squeezed your shoulder in support. “I’m not saying it’s never gonna happen.”

“Just that it’s not looking promising.” you could feel yourself deflating. 

“If it’s meant to be, life finds a way.”

“You did not just quote Jurassic Park.” you laughed, incredulous. You hadn’t seen that movie in ages. 

“That’s your favorite movie.” he winked, giving you finger guns that made you smile harder.” “Either way, you shouldn’t stress yourself about it. You have too much to deal with, with the article, and Namjoon hyungie, and getting used to being back home. And you do have the tendency to overthink and overanalyze, so just see where it goes.”

“Okay.” you nodded, pretending nonchalance. As if that was a part of your brain you could just turn off. 

“Jeongguk is a dude. He was shy as hell when I met him, but he’s been part of Bangtan for long enough. All that testosterone rubbed off on him. If he wants something, he’ll go after it.” Tae decided. You nodded, albeit uncertain. “And if he doesn’t and you still wanna give it a go, you can pursue him yourself. You’re a feminist from the 21st century.”

“How did I survive being away from you?” 

Being this comforted, this understood, was a feeling you didn’t think you’d ever get again. Taehyung was a really important person in your life and sometimes he felt like your twin; so much like you in some ways, and yet different enough to make your dynamic special. 

Spending his day off with him like this, talking about life, laughing together about stupid things, made you wonder how you ever left Seoul. 

The man was also unique enough to make you believe there was no way you could ever be twins. The weirdo was the only person you knew to get the munchies before he smoked; after the final egg was consumed, he walked to your window and pulled out a perfectly rolled blunt. 

That habit of his was one you did occasionally partake in, but you needed to be in the right mood. While weed relaxed him, if you were already anxious about something, getting high would only make it worse. 

You stayed in bed, distracting yourself by watching Hoseok’s Instagram stories of him and the other three boys in the studio. Yoongi was yelling into a mic, quite literally, a full on ‘AAAAAAHHH’ scream that made them all laugh. The next one was of your brother yelling ‘FUCK’ as his tongue tangled during a specific verse of a new song. The last one was Jeongguk sitting on the small couch of the studio, holding a pen and paper, looking so focused on what he was reading that you had to touch the screen to pause it and stare a while longer. 

Maybe you should do the same as him and focus on your own paper. 

Thinking about your inexistent article made you think about The Warehouse, which led you to think about Wonho and Kihyun. 

“I heard something weird on Saturday.” your voice called Tae’s attention back to you, after he blew smoke out the window. “From the tree guys that were after me.”

“Mmhmm?” he nodded to let you know he wasn’t so out of it that wouldn’t be able to keep up with the conversation. 

“Do you know what The Circle is?”

“Like, the shape?”

You should have seen that one coming, really, but it still made you laugh. 

“No, like… when I first heard it, I thought it was some kind of slang. But then I heard it again, when one of the guys was breaking up the fight.” you dropped your phone and sat up straight. “He said something like… Leave that for the circle. So I think it’s a place.”

“What kind of place?” Taehyung must have been intrigued as he let his blunt blow out before storing it in a small tin can and dropping it to the pocket of his khaki pants. 

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe it’s a secret society,” he deduced. 

“How much did you smoke?” you mused. 

“Honestly, not that much. But think about it!” Taehyung joined you back on the bed, lying comfortably on your pillow as if he was about to take a nap. “That’s a good name for a secret society.”

"Are you saying Jeongguk is involved with a secret society?"

"That's you assuming Guk has anything to do with this circle." Taehyung said, eyes already closing, and he made a good case. 

"Guess that's true. You think we can find something about it online?" 

"Only one way to find out." the man was yawning as you got back to your desk. 

As it turns out, you couldn’t find much on the internet at all. At least not about the specific circle you were looking for. Not that you really knew what you were searching for in the first place, but you started with crossing things out. 

You doubted this The Circle had anything to do with a Netflix dating show, much less a 2017 movie starring Emma Watson. 

"Try customizing the search to show results in Seoul only." Taehyung said, sitting directly behind you as he watched you type and click. 

"That's a good idea." 

You didn't know when your friend woke up from his nap, but the fog in his brain seemingly lifted. You changed the settings on your Naver browser to filter a more specific kind of result and location. 

At first you didn't find much again; a failed Seoul based clothing brand, a kid's anime from the seventies. You were about to lose hope as you clicked on the last link.

The screen of your computer turned black as the website was apparently too heavy to load quickly, showing only a white circle in front of a dark background once it finished buffering. 

Right in the middle of that circle was a small box and the question:

Do you have the password? 

 JUNE 8TH | 01:38

 You were confused, worried and slightly scared as you followed the pinned location Jeongguk sent you. It was a little far away from home, but you were driving faster than you normally would and it was so late that there were fewer cars in the streets. 

You –or Jeongguk, rather– were really lucky that you always had your notifications on whenever you went to sleep, otherwise you wouldn’t have seen the text message until morning time. 

You couldn’t help but wonder why he had texted you, your half asleep brain trying to come up with specific reasons he didn’t call or ask for help from any of the others. He couldn’t text Namjoon, your brother didn’t drive so that would make it impossible for him to pick Guk up. But the others… Well, maybe he did text the others, but they didn’t answer and you were the first one to reply. 

You also didn’t see him leaving the house in the first place, but then again you didn’t keep an eye on what the boy did or didn’t do. But it was so late! Did he not drive his bike? Why did he sound weird in the text messages? Can people even sound like something over text? 

Focus. 

‘Your destination is to your right’ the female voice on the GPS of your phone was announcing and you started driving slowly, almost stopping completely.  All you could see were closed stores, a 24h drugstore at the end of the street and a bus stop. 

You realized the bus stop was exactly the location Jeongguk sent you, and the slump hiding in the shadows was slightly familiar. 

You parked your car and rolled the passenger’s window down, wanting the man to see it was you so he could come in, but the slump wasn’t moving. 

“Guk?” you called, but the lack of response made you panic. 

You took off your seatbelt and rushed out of your car, skipping in quick steps to the sidewalk and approaching the bus stop. Jeongguk had a hood over his head, but you could see his nose and lips, the shine of the lip ring catching the low light of the nearest lappost. 

“Gukkah?” you touched his left shoulder, giving it a little squeeze for him to wake up. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to jolt awake, as if you had punched him. He cursed loudly and held his shoulder with a wince, eyes wide as he looked around. You took a step back with the scare, but the moment his eyes met yours, you both relaxed. 

“You’re here.” he stated, voice a little hoarser than you were used to. 

“Yeah– are you okay?” you asked as he had trouble getting up, darting to his side to help him stand. 

Jeongguk hummed, but it was half hearted. His arm was around your shoulders and you could tell he was trying not to put a lot of his weight on you, even though his ankle was somewhat sore and his shoulder was hurting. 

“My bag–” he said, trying to turn back to the bus stop. 

“I’ll go back for it, let me get you inside the car.” you told him in a tone that left no space for arguments. 

“Kay.” 

The boy was too tired to argue with you in the first place, but that wasn’t a good thing. You opened the passenger door and helped Jeongguk sit inside the car, only then going back to the bus stop to retrieve his duffle bag from the floor. It was heavier than you expected, but you hoisted over your shoulder and stored it in the backseat before circling the car to sit behind the wheel. 

You closed the window on Jeongguk’s side, to stop the cold night air from seeping in, and turned on the ceiling dome light. The boy groaned as brightness filled the car, but you needed to look at him before driving home. 

Jeongguk’s dark hair had some strands sticking to his forehead with sweat, his cheek had some dirt on it, his bottom lip was a little puffy. If you weren’t worried before, you definitely were now. 

“What the hell happened to you?” 

“I’m fine.” he attempted to shrug, but the pained groan he let out was proof enough that it was a lie. 

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” you insisted, body completely turned to him as you noticed the wet splotch of something staining his left shoulder. 

“Nothing.” 

Jeongguk was making this really hard for you, which you knew was coming when he told you ‘no questions asked’, but you wouldn’t have agreed to that part of the text if you knew this was the state you’d find him in. 

He looked at you, read in your eyes that you wouldn’t move unless he told you, groaned tiredly and pulled his hoodie zipper low enough so he could show you his shoulder. You gasped as you saw the dark red stains. 

It looked like his skin had been sliced by something sharp, most likely a knife or switchblade. The thing that gave you some sort of relief was the fact the wound didn’t seem to be bleeding much anymore, nor was it too wide. But it was dirty, and a piece of his cotton shirt was sticking to it, dried in a way that could not be comfortable. 

“It’s just a scratch.” Jeongguk feigned nonchalance, trying to pretend he wasn’t in great pain. “Just have to sleep it off.” 

You scoffed with an incredulous laugh. “You need to properly clean it! And most likely stitches!” your voice was high pitched as your hands trembled when you touched your steering wheel. “I think there’s a hospital nearby–”

“No.” his hand shot out to grab onto your wrist and stop you from turning the car on. “No hospital. Please, just– just drive home.”

“Guk.” you wheezed, eyes wide. “You need–”

“If you take me to a hospital like this, they will ask questions I can’t answer.” 

His hand dropped from your wrist and he covered his shoulder with the hoodie again, lifting the other hand to turn off the ceiling light. Your jaw dropped and closed, you had too many questions yourself, arguments that he needed to get the wound looked at or it would get infected. But Jeongguk looked away from you then, staring at the dark night, head dropping to the headrest of his seat. 

You couldn’t take him home like this. 

But he was right, there’s no way he could go to a hospital with, what you assumed was, a stab wound. Not if he couldn’t explain how he got it. If he was in trouble, if he had messed with the wrong people… You could understand that much. This was obviously not a simple mugging case that went wrong, if he was robbed his duffle bag would have been taken, or at least his phone. 

You were starting to realize there was more you didn’t know about Jeongguk than what you initially thought. 

“Fuck, okay.” you willed your heart to settle, focused on your breathing and not on the millions of questions swirling around in your brain. “No hospital, got it. But I’m not taking you home either.”

“Yn–”

“Do you trust me?” you asked him as you pulled on your seatbelt and turned the car on. 

Jeongguk hesitated, looking at you through the corner of his eye. It didn’t offend you, you could only imagine how stressed he must feel. He was clearly in pain, maybe scared of whatever happened, scared of what could still happen if the cut wasn’t properly treated. 

You didn’t need his reply to start driving. You didn’t need to know why he texted you instead of the others either. Both answers were the same. 

The streets you took weren’t the main ones, the last thing you needed was to be stopped by police in a random checkpoint, but Jeongguk still noticed that you weren’t driving home. 

“Where are we going?” he asked after ten minutes.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine first.” 

He fell silent after that, going as far as closing his eyes as he settled against the bench once more. 

Your bargain expired as soon as you drove into Myeongdong and Jeongguk realized where you were taking him. His amused chuckle made your heart rate pick up again; at least it meant he wasn’t too annoyed at you. The district was so empty you could park your car in front of your destination and no one would complain. 

“Smart move.” he told you once you turned off the vehicle. 

“Thanks, I have an IQ of 148.”

Jeongguk was laughing again as you left the car, waiting for you to help him out of it. This time he wasn’t as hesitant in leaning his body against yours, letting you slowly guide him to the locked doors of Bangtan Ink. 

“Is the emergency key still hidden in the same spot?” you asked him, looking around for the fake plant pot that used to be in the front of the store during the time you worked at the tattoo studio. 

“We don’t use keys anymore, Jin hyung updated to a passcode lock.” Jeongguk told you, head pointing at the digital panel on the door. “130613.”

“That’s useful.” you thought out loud, typing the number to the lock and watching the small light turn green. “Alarm system?”

“Not that I know of.” 

You hadn’t been into Bangtan Ink yet, not since you got back, and you didn’t have time to really pay attention to any changes or feel nostalgic as you walked in with Jeongguk leaning against you. But muscle memory took you down the hall and into Taehyung’s studio; the one that now was shared between him and Guk. 

Flicking the lightswitch on, you let Jeongguk walk to the tattoo table on his side of the room, laying down and finally letting his body rest. It was easy to guess which side was his because the contrast in colors and decor was grand. 

While Taehyung’s side was colorful, with weird faces and shapes painted on the walls, Jeongguk’s was mostly black and white. The picture of Bam in the middle of his wall, in between tattoo sketches, was also a big giveaway. 

“Okay, okay, you can do this–” the reality of what was going on was finally settling in. 

You were surprised you hadn’t properly freaked out about this yet, but you were running on adrenaline. Besides, Jeongguk looked so vulnerable, staring at the bright lights in the ceiling, chest rising and falling as his breathing was heavy. His doe eyes were round and scared, even if he tried to hide it from you. 

For his sake, you’d have to get your shit together. 

Later, when you got back into bed, you’d cry. For now, you’d focus. 

You could do this, you had watched enough superhero movies to know how. Choosing to come to the tattoo studio also wasn’t a random pick as it would have everything you needed to properly clean him up and the place was sterile enough that wouldn’t risk an infection. 

“Guk, do you think you can sit up for me?” the calm level of your voice surprised you. “And point me to where you keep your stuff?” 

The boy grunted, but pushed himself into a sitting position, legs dangling from the edge of the tattoo table. “Everything is in the black cabinet.” 

“Okay. Take your– uh. Hoodie off?” 

You turned your back to him to walk to the black cabinet next to his desk. Inside you found his tattoo tools and equipment, glad he was as organized about his work space as he was at home. Everything was labeled and in the right spot. You picked up latex gloves, cotton balls, a saline solution used for cleaning pierced areas, and whatever else you thought you might need. 

When you turned back to Jeongguk, the hoodie was already off and his white, sleeveless, cotton shirt was the smallest piece of clothing you ever saw him wear. Jeongguk was always in oversized stuff, mostly going all the way to his elbows, so this… Yeah, you had to stare. No matter how hard you tried not to. 

You had never seen so much of his tattoos, the bright colors and designs he created himself were beautiful. Not to mention the curves of his biceps, the outline of his chest, the dip of his surprisingly small waist. 

“You’re staring.” he pointed out with a small chuckle. 

“No.” you started moving again, bringing everything you gathered to rest it on the stretcher beside him. “I’m assessing the situation. Since you won’t tell me anything about what happened to you, and you were planning on hiding the stab wound from me, I need to make sure that’s all there is.” 

“I can take the shirt off if you need me to.” his head tipped to the side and his pierced eyebrow raised. At least he was well enough to tease you. 

“You’re not denying that it was a stab.” for the sake of your sanity, you had to focus on the small slip. 

Jeongguk noticed it too, eyes closing as if internally cursing himself. But you didn’t press him about it, it would be futile anyway. Instead, you stood in front of him, which made him part his legs for you so you could get closer. 

“Fair warning,” you said, touching his chest to make him sit up a little straighter so you could better see where he was hurt. “I have little to no idea what I’m doing, so if it hurts–”

“I can do it myself if it makes you uncomfortable.” his eyes were earnest, a little pained, as if he felt sorry for dragging you into this. 

“Let me take care of you.” you whispered, leveling your breath so you wouldn’t show him how nervous you were. For so many reasons. “I’ll do my best to make it quick.” 

You put the glove on your right hand and focused on the cut, not on the beautiful man studying you as you studied it. With the bright light of the tattoo studio, you could actually see the cut properly. You could guess it was at least a couple hours old, and Jeongguk had managed to hold the bleeding pretty well. 

The edges of the cut were a little clotted, but the middle of it still looked fresh and you had to be very careful not to break it open again. You’d still like to get a professional opinion as you couldn’t make sure he wouldn’t need stitches after all, but you knew better than to bring out going to a hospital again. The skin around the wound was stained red and little flakes of dried blood here and there, but you couldn’t see any dirt or small debris inside it. 

“Do you need something to bite onto?” you asked him as your eyes flitted to his face, finding his unflinching gaze already on yours. 

Jeongguk shook his head in a negative manner, so you picked up the roll of paper towels and teared up a few pieces, folding them to make it thicker. You held it under the cut as you took the saline bottle and used the curved, plastic nozzle to splash the solution on the cut, catching it with the paper towels to avoid making a bigger mess. 

The boy flinched and groaned and you bit your lips as your eyebrows pinched. You knew it must be burning like hell when Jeongguk avoided your face and stared at the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Is okay.” even his voice was strained. 

You folded the wet paper towels and threw it in the trash can at the foot of the table, leaving the bottle to the side as you used your gloved hand to gently pry the piece of the shirt that was stuck to the cut. Thankfully the liquid made it soft enough for you to pull it away without breaking more of his skin. 

Dousing a cotton ball with the saline again, you used it to gently clean around the cut as best as you could. You didn’t notice when you pursed your lips in concentration, but you did feel it when Jeongguk’s tattooed hand settled on your hip. 

Your next breath came out ragged and your hand hovered in the air, next to the cut, as to avoid slipping and hurting him. Maybe he meant to distract you from his touch when he asked:

“How do you know how to do this?” Jeongguk’s voice was as quiet as yours, his warm breath ghosting your face with how close you were to each other. 

Your cheeks burned a little as your lips were pulled into a soft smile and you said: “I’ve watched all of the Spider Man movies.” 

The man laughed, a real laugh, and it only made you smile harder. But it also made his shoulders move and the domino effect caused his cut to sting. The laugh died down with the scrunching of his nose and his forehead rested against your shoulder to hide his pain. You didn’t think twice about touching the side of his face with your free hand, in what should be a soothing action. 

Jeongguk’s breath was so deep there was no doubt in your mind he could smell the soap on your skin just as you could smell the iron of his. You hated to see him in pain, you decided. You hated not knowing what happened, you hated that there was nothing else you could do besides patching him up like this, not if he didn’t want to tell you what was going on. 

But you could comfort him, you could show him he was safe for now. 

You let the cotton ball go into the trash can and removed your latex glove by rolling it off using your pants for friction. You rested that hand on his thigh, just because you were too scared to touch his arm and end up hurting him somehow, and used the one on his face to gently push his long hair behind his ear. 

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” you started, mumbling the words, lips so close to his cheek. “Just… Please tell me you’re okay?” 

The hand that was resting on your hip dragged to the small of your back and he pulled you closer to his body, keeping his arm secure around you. You had the urge to do the same to him, to hold him close, cling to him as he was to you. 

Nothing about this was uncomfortable, didn’t feel weird. It was scary, but only because you weren’t prepared for the clenching of your heart, the need you felt for this man. So many thoughts were going through your head as you pictured Jeongguk getting hurt. It was just a small wound, one that would heal in a few weeks, but what if it was worse–

“I’m okay now.” were his words, delivered against the skin of your neck, and they felt so heavy. 

Jeongguk lifted his head, nose dragging against your cheek before he pulled back to be able to look at you; face still so close to yours that the tips of your noses bumped gently. Your left hand rested on the side of his neck as both of his arms circled your waist. 

His eyes fell to your lips and you inhaled softly, slightly bending your head to the side. Jeongguk’s forehead rested against yours, your thumb caressed his skin, your breaths felt like they were the same. Goosebumps were swarming every little part of your body that he touched. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” you asked quietly.

“I really want to.” his lips were practically touching yours already. “But I’m afraid that if I do, everything will change.” 

“How would it change?” your fingers slipped into his hair and Jeongguk sighed. 

“I don’t think I’d be strong enough to stop.” 

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” 

Jeongguk called your name, but it felt like a plea. You could see the reluctance in his eyes, feel the hesitation in the way his arms started to loosen their hold. In a broken voice, he asked: “What if I’m not who you think I am?” 

“I’m pretty sure I’d like you anyway.” 

For a second there you thought Jeongguk would pull back, ask you to finish bandaging his cut and tell you to drive home. You could physically feel him slipping away from you, letting the what ifs and the complications get into his head. 

Whatever guilt he carried was pushed away when his lips pressed against yours. 

Tenderly. Carefully. Fleetingly. 

When he pulled back and your eyes parted open again, all of his doubts weren't there anymore. Instead, you found a need that matched yours, lighting up a fire inside of you that threatened to burn you to the ground. 

His arms tightened around you once more and you gasped as his lips pressed against yours once more, with no hesitation this time. This kiss was desperate, heated from the very start. Jeongguk’s lips moved against yours, both of your mouths parting together and tongues meeting in the middle. 

Both of your arms circled his neck, your head bent to the opposite side of his and you allowed Jeongguk to explore your mouth, deepening the kiss as he pushed and pulled your tongue with his. There was pressure on your sides and you realized his legs around your hips were pinning you against him. 

It felt like a claim. 

A little moan left your lips and Jeongguk swallowed it down, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth and letting it wobble back into place, much like you had done the night of his concert. 

“We can’t–” he started and you panicked for the tenth time tonight. Your pout must have been pitiful as he chuckled. “I was just gonna say we can’t do this here.”

“Oh.” you avoided his eyes, hands dropping to his chest as you were still afraid to touch his shoulder. “Probably shouldn’t do anything while you’re bleeding out, either.” 

“Would still be worth it.” he shrugged and instantly regretted it, cursing and intaking a harsh breath. 

“Alright, tough guy.” you rolled your eyes, prying his arms from around you. “Let me finish this, yeah? Try not to distract me too much.” 

Jeongguk laughed and offered you his shoulder for you to work on again. But not before saying: “You’re blushing.” 

“I know.”