Chapter Text
Chapter 4
The ride home was quiet. Not because there was anything to say, but because Yoongi was too busy trying to ignore the pain.
He stared out the vehicle window without really seeing anything.
The city lights blurred past in front of him as he kept his shoulder completely still, almost afraid to move it too much.
The numbness had faded a little, but the pain hadn't. It was a constant pressure now.
Heavy.
Annoying.
Like something buried beneath his skin.
And that only reminded him of how stupid he had been about taking care of himself, because the pills he was supposed to take every eight hours were still forgotten on the table from the night before, and the rehabilitation exercises he was supposed to be doing...
Shit.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat. He didn't want to think about that right now, because thinking about it meant thinking about the person who always made him do them, and that thought inevitably led him to...
Jimin.
Shit.
Jimin again.
The apartment was quiet when he arrived because everyone was still at Big Hit, working, and he...
He shook his head to push those thoughts away, left his shoes near the entrance, and slowly walked into the kitchen. He opened the freezer and pulled out an ice pack. Then he opened one of the drawers and grabbed the pills. The same damn pills he should have taken hours ago, he stared at them for a few seconds and sighed.
"Great job, Yoongi," he muttered to himself.
He took the medication with a glass of water and then headed to the living room, carefully lowering himself onto the couch facing the kitchen.
He placed the cold pack on his shoulder, and part of the tension eased almost immediately. It didn't disappear, but together with the medication, it helped and for the first time all day, he felt something close to relief, so he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Immediate mistake.
A serious mistake.
Because whenever Yoongi thought too much, he ended up trapped inside his own head, thinking about the studio, where everyone looked at him as if he could no longer do his job, and how that made him feel useless, like a burden to the people working with them and a burden to his members. He thought about the pain, and about the rehabilitation exercises he had been avoiding because he hated them. He hated the way they made him feel, limited, like he was learning how to do everything from scratch. He hated the patience required for every repetition and every set, and how it constantly reminded him that he still wasn't okay.
And then...
He thought about Jimin.
Of course he thought about Jimin.
It was impossible not to.
He thought about the way Jimin followed him around the apartment. The adorable way he frowned and pouted whenever Yoongi tried to do something by himself. The way he practically forced him to sit down and the way he always found an excuse to get closer.
And before—or rather, always, if he was being honest—it made him feel warm.
It made him feel loved.
Important.
And although his Jiminie took care of everyone, yes, it was different with him and he knew it. He had known it for a very long time, but he pretended not to know because accepting certain things was dangerous.
And loving Jimin...
Loving Jimin the way he loved him...
Was one of those dangerous things.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling as something heavy settled in his chest once again and he remembered how Jimin hadn't looked at him even once today and hadn't come over, hadn't asked him anything and how stupid it was to feel this way when he was the one who had asked for it.
"Well, stop."
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Exhaustion slowly began to settle over him and he shifted on the couch, carefully leaning onto his good shoulder, and before he realized it, he had fallen asleep.
He didn't know how much time had passed. He only knew he was waking up because he heard voices.
Murmurs.
Distant at first, then gradually closer.
He blinked slowly and noticed that the lights in the room where he was sleeping were off. The only illumination came from the kitchen, along with the voices.
"Do you think he's feeling better?" Yoongi vaguely recognized Namjoon's voice.
"Yeah. I saw his pill bottle on the counter, and he's got an ice pack on his shoulder," Jin replied.
"That must've helped a lot," Hoseok said.
"Yeah, but he still looks terrible," Jungkook added.
"I noticed that too," Taehyung finished.
A brief silence followed before another question was asked.
"And why wouldn't Yoongi tell us anything?" Jin spoke again.
Another silence.
Then a quieter voice.
A softer one.
One Yoongi would recognize anywhere.
Jimin.
"Because Yoongi hyung is too stubborn and didn't want to worry anyone."
Yoongi's chest tightened and he felt everyone's eyes settling on him again, and he shifted slightly on the couch, causing the ice pack to slide a little.
He frowned and blinked slowly, still caught somewhere between sleep and reality as he realized no one responded to Jimin's comment.
Not because they didn't want to, but because they didn't know what to say and everyone had heard the tone Jimin used and everyone knew what Jimin sounded like when he was somewhere between worried and hurt and right now, there was something broken hidden beneath his voice.
Besides, they had all noticed it, even if no one had said it aloud, the small distance that had existed between him and Yoongi all day.
Yoongi finally opened his eyes completely and blinked several times.
He looked around.
Namjoon was leaning against the kitchen counter with Jin and Hoseok beside him, while Jungkook and Taehyung stood near the opening connecting the kitchen and the living room.
And Jimin was farther back.
Still.
Too still.
Looking at him for only a fraction of a second before lowering his gaze.
"Welcome home," Yoongi murmured, his voice still thick with sleep, but no one answered.
"What's wrong?" he asked as he pushed himself upright and sat up again.
Taehyung crossed his arms and noticing that Jimin wasn't going to be the first one to approach, he decided to ignore whatever had happened between them for the moment and take the first step himself.
"Hyung," he said, walking directly toward him.
The moment Yoongi heard the tone in his maknae's voice, he could only think one thing.
Bad start.
Very bad start because Taehyung using that voice never meant anything good.
"Are you feeling sick?"
Yoongi automatically looked away and before he could answer, Taehyung interrupted him.
"And don't lie."
Silence so Taehyung continued.
"You left early, and Sejin Hyung told us why."
Another silence.
"You're sitting here with an ice pack on your shoulder." Taehyung pointed at him.
"And I haven't seen you do your exercises in days."
Yoongi slowly raised his eyes and for a moment, he considered denying it, making up an excuse or saying they were overreacting because he was fine, but then he looked at the faces in front of him.
The concern.
The tension.
And he was too tired to keep pretending.
Far too tired.
So he let out a long, heavy sigh.
One that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him.
"Yeah," he finally admitted.
Absolute silence.
Yoongi rubbed his forehead with his free hand.
"My shoulder hurts," he confessed.
Jungkook's expression changed immediately so did Jin's. Namjoon frowned. Hoseok's eyes widened slightly. Jimin clenched his fists and Taehyung simply stared at him.
"That's why I left."
Silence again.
Then—
"Hyung."
Ah. No.
Not that voice.
Taehyung tilted his head slightly and looked at him as though he were deeply disappointed.
"Why are you doing this?"
Yoongi closed his eyes.
"Taehyung..."
"No, seriously."
His voice didn't sound angry.
It sounded worried.
And maybe that made it hurt a little more.
"You just had surgery. You're supposed to be taking care of yourself."
"Tae..." Jungkook tried to stop him, but was ignored.
Yoongi lowered his gaze to his hands.
"I know."
"You haven't been doing your exercises."
"I know."
"Tae..." This time it was Hoseok's turn, but he was ignored just like Jungkook had been.
"You're not taking your medication on time."
"I know."
"And you're still acting like nothing is wrong."
Yoongi remained silent because there was nothing to say.
Because Taehyung was right and because suddenly he was too exhausted to keep defending himself, so he simply lowered his head slightly.
"I'm sorry."
The silence that followed was immediate and heavy because no one had expected that.
No one.
Hoseok's eyes widened so did Jungkook's.
Namjoon raised his eyebrows slightly.
Even Jin looked surprised.
Only Taehyung and Jimin remained serious.
Because Min Yoongi could admit when he was wrong.
Of course he could.
But usually, he argued first.
He defended himself first.
He rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed first.
He didn't simply lower his head and apologize.
"I'm sorry," he repeated more quietly. "I was stubborn..."
And amid the silence that followed...
Jimin felt something slowly sink inside his chest because the entire time, he had been watching Yoongi, watching the changes in his expression as Taehyung scolded him and worried that Yoongi might treat Tae the way he had treated him the night before and he remembered what Yoongi had told him yesterday.
"Well, stop."
He remembered the tired expression.
The look.
The voice.
But Yoongi wasn't angry.
He wasn't raising his voice.
He wasn't pushing Taehyung away.
He wasn't telling him to stop.
He was apologizing.
He was letting himself be taken care of.
The air caught in Jimin's throat as a horrible thought began forcing its way into his mind.
Slow.
Painful.
And with every second, it felt more real.
Because maybe the problem had never been being cared for.
Maybe...
It was him.
Maybe Yoongi wasn't tired of the attention.
Maybe he was tired of Jimin's attention.
Maybe Jimin had crossed a line.
Maybe he had been too much.
Too insistent.
Too close.
Too obvious.
And then the final thought came on its own.
Soft.
Cruel.
Destroying something inside his chest.
Yoongi doesn't love me.
And for the first time since their argument...
Jimin realized that hurt far more than the anger ever had.