Chapter Text
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Yoongi didn’t get a wink of sleep. All he could think about was Jimin lying in that hospital bed, looking like a ghost. Yoongi wasn’t much of a crier, not a fan of the snot that would run from his nose and the massive headache he got afterwards, but he cried that night. Curled up on his bed, he wept for hours. He didn’t care that the thin wall that separated his and Seokjin’s rooms wouldn’t muffle the sounds of his sorrow. He didn’t care that Namjoon and Hoseok were right outside his room in the kitchen, the two younger men unable to sleep themselves. He cried for Jimin. And he cried for himself.
It wasn’t until five o’clock in the morning that Yoongi’s tear ducts dried up. As expected, he had a runny nose and a severe headache. Yoongi clutched his head, eyes squeezed shut as the guilt pummeled his mind and body.
Knock knock.
“Go away.” Yoongi’s voice was hoarse, not sounding as firm as he wanted to.
“Hyung...” It was Namjoon, voice uncertain. “Please, can I come in? Don’t shut us out. We’ve all seen what the result of that could be.”
Yoongi winced, the guilt digging its knife even deeper. “...come in.”
The door slowly opened. Namjoon didn’t look any better. His hair was sticking up in different directions, evident that he had been pulling at it with his hands. His eyes were swollen, somewhat lifeless. He closed the door, walking over to Yoongi’s bed and sat on the floor beside it. Yoongi had hidden his face in his pillow, still sniffling and wiping his nose. He was certain if he looked in the mirror right about now, it’d break.
“I had a pretty interesting conversation with Hoseok just now,” Namjoon began, looking down at his hands. “About… about existentialism.”
“About what?” Yoongi deadpanned, voice muffled by his pillow.
“Existentialism, It’s a philosophical term. Something I’ve studied before, but felt like revisiting in light of current events.”
“Why am I not surprised.” Yoongi muttered. “So what about it?”
“‘Existence precedes essence,’” Namjoon recited. “Those of the words of French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre. It means that it is important that individuals act as individuals: independent, not living their lives by the labels, roles, stereotypes, or other categories we’re supposed to “fit” into. Making our own choices, creating our own life, being responsible for bringing meaning to our existence, that is the true essence of human beings. We are in control of ourselves, not the definitions we’re expected to be aligned to.”
Yoongi gingerly raised his head. “Is there a point to all of this?”
“The point is that we’ve all been focusing on the perceptions of ourselves instead of taking our lives into our own hands and living our lives freely,” Namjoon explained. “I’ve been letting my parents control how I see myself for so long. And… I’m just done, you know? They don’t see me, they just see a disappointment. I’ve let them put me in a box, and I let it consume me to the point where I couldn’t truly be happy with Jin. And that’s my own fault.”
Yoongi frowned, confused as to why Namjoon was telling him all of this. If there was supposed to be some big picture to his deep-thinking friend’s spiel, he’s missing it.
“You’re in here, beating yourself into a pulp out of guilt,” Namjoon continued, sighing. “You’re in here feeling sorry for Jimin and yourself. And that’s not what Jimin needs. He needs to see himself, not his anorexia that he’s kept hidden from everyone, even his best friend. It’s clear that he let the label of anorexic consume him. He can’t see himself outside of it, and perhaps he was afraid none of us would, either. And he’s let that fear, that perception of himself, drive him to the hospital.”
Yoongi clenched his fists. “Are you blaming Jimin for where he is right now?”
“Absolutely not,” Namjoon replied, expression tired. “I would never. I"m just pointing out cause and effect, that"s all. There is so much we don’t know, things that he needs to tell us if he wants to.”
Namjoon stood up, heading for the door. Before he passed the threshold, he stopped, turning to look at Yoongi once more.
“Don’t keep Jimin in the box he’s trapped in. By continuing to berate yourself and blame yourself for things outside of your control, you’re helping him stay in the box. See Jimin. See with your soul, not with your eyes.”
Yoongi looked down as Namjoon walked out. He heard him go into Seokjin’s room.
“See with your soul, not with your eyes, huh?” Yoongi murmured.
Hoseok poked his head in Yoongi’s room, uncertain. “Yoongi, can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Hoseok enetered and shut the door behind him. He stood there awkwardly, chewing on his bottom lip and pulling at the bottom of his shirt.
“Come on over here.” Yoongi shuffled, leaving room for the younger on his bed.
Hoseok climbed on Yoongi’s bed, legs hugging his chest. Yoongi started to put an arm around him, but hesitated, not sure if his touch was wanted. He didn’t know what Hoseok’s boundaries were, and the last thing he wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. But then Hoseok was leaning his head against Yoongi’s shoulder. Gulping nervously, Yoongi snaked his arm around Hoseok, relaxing when Hoseok scooted closer to him.
“Did you listen to Namjoon?” Hoseok asked.
“Yeah.”
“No, did you really listen?” Hoseok stressed. “Jimin needs us. He needs us, not our guilty conscience. Not our regrets and sorrows. He doesn’t need the negative perception of himself shoved in his face. He needs his friends.”
“I know, I get that now,” Yoongi told him. “I understand.”
They were silent for a few moments before Hoseok asked, “So what do we do? How do we show Jimin that he can rely on us? That we’ll be here for him through thick and thin? That no matter what negative things Jimin thinks of himself, that we can see him? How… how can we help him heal?”
Yoongi rubbed at his swollen eyes. “I don’t know. We need to talk about this as a group. With Jimin. But he’s in such bad shape right now… what he needs right now are thing we can’t give him: medical attention.”
“You’re right.”
There was more silence. Yoongi’s heart was beating out of his chest, his hands twitching. There was so much he wanted to do. He wanted to pull Hoseok in his lap, run his fingers through his hair, kiss him. But since he was just introduced to akoiromanticism merely a few hours ago, he had nothing to go on.
“I like affection.”
Yoongi stiffened at Hoseok’s whisper. “H-Huh?”
Hoseok looked up at Yoongi, expression knowing. “You need to see me, hyung. Not what you think an akoiromantic likes and dislikes. Because the only way to know is to ask. To communicate.”
Yoongi was truly starting to understand. “O-Okay… can I hug you?”
Hoseok sat up. Yoongi didn’t even get a chance to panic. Hoseok climbed into Yoongi’s lap, wrapping his arms around him. Yoongi’s breath hitched in his throat, but he was quick to wrap both arms around Hoseok’s middle.
“Can I kiss you?” Yoongi murmured, eyes lidded.
Hoseok bit his lip, the memory of their unideal first kiss from a month ago. He had been so confused, uncertain. He had been afraid of what he felt, what he didn’t know. He had thought intimacy was reserved for those who felt romantic love, not his kind of love.
But that was wrong. Hoseok was putting himself in the same box Namjoon had stressed during their conversation. It was time to break out of it. It was time to shed himself of the insecurities his parents instilled in him. It was time to let go of what he was expected to be like. It was time for him to live.
“...yes.” Hoseok whispered.
Neither of them moved.
Yoongi chortled, the first joyous sound he had made in weeks. “I can’t kiss you if I can’t see your face.”
Hoseok blushed as he pulled back, almost teetering off the bed with the abrupt movement. Yoongi cupped Hoseok’s face. Hoseok was mesmerized by the raw emotion and vulnerability in the older man’s eyes.
Yoongi leaned in and pressed his lips tenderly against Hoseok’s. Hoseok’s sense of touch went on overdrive, acutely aware of the heat from Yoongi’s hands, breath, and lips. For a second, Hoseok wondered to himself, did he deserve this?
But from the way Yoongi pulled him closer, making a small noise of confusion from Hoseok’s lack of response, Hoseok rhoughr something he should’ve earlier: fuck it.
Hoseok kissed Yoongi back, one had cupping the back of Yoongi’s neck and the other resting on his shoulder.
Hoseok didn’t get butterflies in his stomach like others would. He didn’t feel like he was in one of the many romantic movies he’d watched. He didn’t feel anything change.
But the happiness that sprouted in Hoseok’s heart, that was more than enough to let him know that the love he felt for Yoongi, albeit much different, was real.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Seokjin didn’t move when Namjoon closed the door behind him. He was sitting on his bed, chin resting on his palm and curled fingers covering his mouth.
Namjoon swallowed thickly. “Jin…”
Seokjin finally acknowledged him, gaze sharp as he fixed it on the taller man. His eyes were red, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks. The guilt continued to eat away at Namjoon.
“Jin, you’ve been holed up in here for hours. Are you ready to talk?”
Seokjin vocalized something between a laugh and a sob. “There have been so many times in my life where I felt like my world was falling apart, but I got through it each time. But this… this fucking sucks. I know that sounds selfish. But I feel like that this time, it’s my fault everything has gone to shit. How could I not see it? How could I not see that Jimin and my own fucking boyfriend have been suffering so?”
Namjoon approached the blond, cautiously sitting on the side of Seokjin’s bed. “It’s not your fault. You know that, hyung. We’re all looking for someone to blame in this situation, to pile our frustrations on. But the reality is… this isn’t our fault. Life just fucking sucks sometimes. No one created this mess. For example, it’s not our fault that I have homophobic parents—”
“But don’t you see?!” Seokjin interrupted him, drowning in grief. “If I had just left you alone all those months ago, you wouldn’t be in this situation! Your parents wouldn’t have found out, and—”
Namjoon was on Seokjin in an instant. He clutched his boyfriend’s shoulders, a fire in his eyes.
“Don’t you ever say something like that ever again! First off, I was already in the questioning stage before I met you. If it wasn’t you, then my parents would’ve found out sooner or later about me and some other guy. To be frank, I"m glad they found out with you and not someone else. You"re wonderful and my parents would be fools to skip out on getting to know you. Second, my parents’ homophobia is not your burden to bear. They’ll have to sleep at night knowing they ruined their relationship with me over some bullshit. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you about this sooner. Now look what I’ve done. I’ve made you feel guilty for being happy…”
Seokjin hiccupped, burying his head into Namjoon’s chest. "You make me happy, Joonie. But I already know how homophobic parents are. The knowledge that they’ve disowned you will always be in the back of your mind, no matter how hard you try to bury it. It will affect every relationship you’re in. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want that weight on your shoulders.”
“I don’t think you quite understand yet,” Namjoon growled. “I"m not telling you this for my sake. You take on so much. You make my problems your problems. You run a blog where you let hundreds of other people like us confide in you. You’re so fucking selfless, and it’s about time you’ve thought about yourself for a change.”
Seokjin’s bottom lip quivered. “But…”
“When the time comes, go do your internship,” Namjoon ordered him. “This isn’t up for debate. I will drag you to Incheon Airport if I have to. I will figure things out for myself. I’ve allowed my parents to control me for too long, and it"s hurt us both. It’s about time I stood up for myself. Even if everything ends up in shambles, at least I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that for once in my life, I did something for myself.”
Seokjin looked away, still troubled. “What about Jimin?”
“You forget there’s still five of us here,” Namjoon pointed out. “What Jimin needs right now is professional help. We’ll support him 100%. You don’t have to be in the country to support him, you know. We got this, hyung. I know you’re the oldest, but we can take care of each other while you’re gone.”
“Joonie… I really want to believe that. I really do,” Seokjin whimpered. “But… there’s so much anger, fear, and hurt that our entire group is housing. Taehyung and Jungkook seem to be functioning, but… Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jimin. They were at the brink of self-destruction. They still are. I’m scared, Joonie. If anything else happens to Jimin, or if something happens to Hoseok and Yoongi… it’ll kill me.”
“What did I say about you taking on everyone’s problems?” Namjoon stroked Seokjin’s hair. “You matter just as much as they do. Your future is just as important. Just trust us, hyung. Please. Trust us to communicate with each other better. You can only do so much. You’re not superman. We individually have to make the decision to work on ourselves. No amount of babysitting from you can make us do that.”
Seokjin scoffed, amused. He hummed lowly. “You’re not scared?”
“I’m terrified,” Namjoon admitted. “There’s a reason I’ve never truly put my foot down with my parents. Yes, I’m scared I’ll be kicked out and disowned. Of course I am. But I have to deal with it, and I will find a way to overcome this. You know why?”
“Why?”
Namjoon lifted Seokjin’s head up from his chest, using his index finger to tilt it up. “Because you’re worth fighting for. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I’m sorry I was so spineless before. But I will muster up every ounce of courage in me if it means I get to keep you in my life. I’ve done it once before, I’ll do it again.”
Seokjin rested his forehead against Namjoon’s. “That ‘once before’ is what got you in this shit in the first place. You"re not spineless. You"re one of the bravest people I know. So fine. You win. I’ll do my internship. On one condition.”
“Which is?”
Seokjin looked Namjoon directly in his eyes. “I meet your parents before I go.”
Namjoon flinched. “W-What?”
“You heard me. You haven’t gone back home yet, so I assume they informed you by phone that they were kicking you out, right? That won’t do. I want them to look us dead in the face tell us that they’re kicking you out. If they have the balls to do it, fine, but they will hear from me how their actions have affected you. I"ve had to see it all for myself, and they didn’t. I will make sure they suffer the shame and guilt that they"ve made you suffer. I’m not leaving the country until they are on their knees begging me to spare them a sliver of dignity. Got it?”
Namjoon gulped at the lethality in Seokjin’s voice. “O-Okay…”
“Then it’s settled,” Seokjin sighed. “Come on, let’s sleep for a bit. We’re going back to the hospital as soon as visiting hours are open again.”
“Alright.” Namjoon kicked off his shoes and socks, quickly ridding himself of his pants as well. He sunk down in the mattress, bringing Seokjin down with him.
“I love you.” Seokjin murmured.
Namjoon kissed his forehead. “I love you, too.”