Chapter Text
The rain crashes against the pavement relentlessly, drowning out any other sounds around him. The crimson of his blood is washed away, barely visible in the dark. With every step he takes, he feels the weight of his body slowing him down. He continues to sprint as he clutches his ribs in pain, unfamiliar panic settling in his chest.
His phone wouldn’t work — he tried that earlier. And it was just his luck that it died just when he finally found service, leaving him unable to call any of his members.
He certainly couldn’t go to a hospital. if word got out that he was hospitalized, he would just become more of a victim.
He’s kilometers away from home, not an inkling of an idea about where he was, and far too hurt to try and find out. Any signs that he passed by were illegible as his vision blurred. And he had no 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.
“Fuck… 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬!“ He curses, feeling dizzy from the sheer amount of blood he was losing. He should be used to it by now. After two years in the game he knew all about pain and injuries. But little about how to treat them…
‘𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘢. 𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭’
No buildings, barely any lights, just fields and fields of grass and broken-down barns. He must be in the countryside because the stars are as clear as ever here, unlike in Seoul. He barely ever had time to visit the countryside of Korea, far too busy to even consider it and he wishes he had the privilege of time to enjoy it.
Perhaps he still could. It was the perfect place to die slowly after all.
But Taehyung refused to die: at least not today in such a pathetic way.
He pushes himself forward, fueled by the thoughts of seeing their faces when they realize he’s not dead — they can’t kill him that easily.
He squints through the darkness, trying to make out his surroundings. Spotting a faint light, he rushes towards it, despite the throbbing pain all over his body and the knife lodged deep inside his stomach.
He feels a wave of relief washing over him, nearly bringing him to tears when he realizes that the source of light was from a house, a living person!
‘𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦’
Mustering up every bit of strength in his weak tired body, he runs and runs, past the fields and up towards the gate of the house. He ignores the pain taking up all his senses and rattles the gates, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Please! Let me in!”
He can barely breathe, his chest heaving and voice breaking as he screams, efforts in vain as there is no response. None that he could hear over his own broken voice anyway.
He sees black dots in his vision, gasping and screaming as he claws at the gates. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t die now. Not when there was just so much on the line. “Help me! Fuck, it hurts!”
And right before he falls on the pavement, cold and dripping wet with blood and water, he feels the gate open. And arms envelop him before all turns dark.
~~~~
Jungkook loved nights like this and cherished them although they were far too rare. Sipping on beer while watching whatever movie came up on the television. Wearing something other than a white coat, all comfy and warm. Operating on a half-frozen slab of steak with a steak knife instead of a patient with a scalpel blade.
Spoiler alert: he learned the hard way that his scalpel skills didn’t exactly translate over to cutting up meat.
And he was perfectly content spending the rest of his night that way, far too invested in whatever anime was on at the moment to sleep. His job destroyed his sleep schedule anyway.
Right before the protagonist – whatever his name was – confronted the antagonist, he heard screaming outside the mansion.
𝘋𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴?
How ridiculous. Just how drunk were they to stumble onto his house, isolated in the middle of nowhere? He had an apartment in Seoul of course, a penthouse 10 minutes away from the hospital he worked in, but this was 𝘩𝘪𝘴 house. The one he escaped to whenever he finally had enough spare time, not the one he occasionally rested at.
He’d chosen this area 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 for the fact that barely anybody was here. No loud airplanes or car sounds, and no noisy, drunk people walking the lively streets of Seoul all night. So why exactly was someone at his safe haven, screaming and shaking his gates like a maniac?
He pauses his show and picks up his phone, about to dial 911 until he hears loud wailing, repetitively chanting, “It hurts, it hurts!”
Jungkook sighs, still keeping his phone with him as he walks downstairs, opens the door, and sees the man currently at his gates.
The man was drenched from the rain pouring down, clutching his stomach with one arm and shaking the gate with his other. He was not okay, seeing as his legs were shaking as if they were about to give up on him any minute.
His hair was blue, and vibrant even in the dark. But it’s too dark to make out the man’s features or any other details.
Jungkook decides to open the gates – he would rather not have a dead body on his doorstep. The man looked like he genuinely needed help, voice trembling as he yelled. He definitely wouldn’t get any help near here anyway, what with how isolated he was. And if this man turned out to be an actual psychopath… Well, he had a black belt in taekwondo.
Promptly after he opens the gates, the man is tumbling and swaying, barely able to balance on his own two feet. Before Jungkook can even really think, his arms shoot up in an attempt to catch the stranger before he hurts himself more. He curses as he cradles the man who’s panting and struggling against him for whatever reason.
All of a sudden, the man falls pliant in his arms, becoming dead weight. And Jungkook would even believe him to be dead if it weren’t for the unsteady heartbeat still pulsing in his neck. Jungkook struggles a little as he drags the man towards his house, a pretty suspicious sight if anyone were to see it.
30 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦.. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯
Once they finally arrive inside Jungkook’s house, he lays the man on a blanket. Now that there’s some light in the room, he can see the amount of blood clinging onto the man’s shirt. He tenses at how tired and beat up the man looked, blue hair plastered against his pale, rain-soaked skin. He can see the blunt tip of what seemed to be a dagger sticking out of his abdomen.
𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵...
Sometimes Jungkook hated just how empathetic he tended to be (although many of his coworkers may not believe that to be true). He didn’t want to leave the man lying here, suffering in pain when he knew he could do something about it.
It’s fine, Jungkook was trained for situations like this.
He quickly grabs a pillow, elevating the stranger’s legs to ensure blood flow. He assesses breathing, circulation, and consciousness, all unstable. He strips the man from his shirt carefully, unable to do much with the wet fabric blocking him.
Scanning the room for his first-aid kit, he applies pressure around the wound. Jungkook bites his lips as he works swiftly cleaning around the area, and assesses the damage. It seemed that the knife hadn’t pierced any vital organs, which was truly a miracle.
He’d rather not pull the dagger out, knowing that there was a chance of dire internal bleeding and he doesn’t want to make things worse. It was especially risky in a non-surgical environment. He stabilizes the object, padding around it to ensure that it won’t move.
He grabs his bandage rolls, careful not to jostle the dagger handle as he tightly wraps it around the man’s abdomen. As he tightens the bandages, the man’s eyes flutter open, his body thrashing around and shivering violently.
“Stop moving.” Jungkook snaps, tone sharp as he presses a finger to the man’s neck, checking again for a pulse. It’s a faint heartbeat but still there. “Mmf-” The man groans, eyes now wide and unblinking, staring straight at Jungkook. “H-hello?”
Jungkook presses his lips together, ignoring him. There wasn’t time for small talk. He rummages in his first aid kit for a blanket to wrap around the stranger. A knife wound and hypothermia were definitely not a good mix.
He wraps the blanket around the blue-haired stranger and the man winces in pain but is oddly calm for the situation, “Who are you?” He whispers, voice barely making it out of his mouth.
“The real question is who are 𝘺𝘰𝘶.” Jungkook mutters, but not loud enough for the stranger to hear.
“D-do you know what you’re doing?” The man hesitantly asks, watching as Jungkook worked on his wounds. Jungkook sighs, hand pushing his hair away from his face.
“Do you want help or not?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at the stranger. The man nods hesitantly, brows pinched together. In the back of his mind, Jungkook wonders why he’s even helping the man out, bringing him into his house but he pushes the thought away.
He didn’t need to learn anything about the stranger and the stranger doesn’t need to know anything about him. This was simply… an act of goodness?
Once Jungkook finishes tightening the bandages, the man looks down at them and smiles softly. “Thank you,” He whispers, voice a little weak.
The doctor just nods in response, looking around for his phone. “I’ll call 911.” He assures once he finds it. Oddly enough, this gets quite the reaction from the stranger.
“No!” He yells as much as his voice can muster up.
Jungkook pauses, narrowing his eyes in confusion. He curls a brow up as he stares back at the stranger. “And why not?”
The blue-haired man just shrugs. “I-I’m not that hurt. It’s not painful. Thank you for helping me but I’ll go now…”
“That’s because I applied a numbing balm. The pain would make you pass out otherwise” Jungkook states, all matter-of-factly the way his coworkers hated. “You’re as good as dead if I don’t call emergency services.”
“I’m as good as dead if you make that c-call!” The stranger protests, trying his best to get up, which has Jungkook rushing over to push him back down. “I told you not to move.” He scolds but the man ignores it, continuing to talk. “No hospitals, no cops. It’s too dangerous…”
And it confirms all his suspicions; this odd blue-haired man was a criminal. He remembers the dragon tattoo on his back shoulder, small but intricately drawn, a detail he noticed but overlooked due to urgency. He definitely wasn't looking to waste his time sheltering a criminal in his home.
“Then you’re going to have to leave.”
The man looks dejected, unlike the criminal he claims to be. In fact, he looks like he’s about to cry. But he accepts it, no argument. “Can I please call someone on your phone? My phone is dead.”
Jungkook purses his lips but nods, passing him his phone and offering to charge the man’s phone. Before he leaves to get the charger, not wanting to overhear the phone call, the man calls for him, “Sir, wait!”
“Hmm?”
“What’s your name?”
Jungkook almost ignores him, continuing to walk upstairs to get the charger. But the hopeful look on the stranger’s face makes him falter. He looked genuinely curious like the knowledge of who had saved him was priceless.
And Jungkook sighs. He could always lie but he didn’t care enough to do so. “Jungkook.” He says, turning back around.
He doesn’t bother asking the man for his name; frankly, he doesn’t want to know. In case it came up on the news with the story that he had been killed on the street in the middle of nowhere or had been found guilty and arrested for a heinous crime.
“Well, I can’t tell you my name…,” The stranger mumbles although he was never asked. “But you can call me V! It’s the name of my favorite superhero!”
‘𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰’ Jungkook almost says but he bites it back. He gives V a short nod in acknowledgment before leaving him to attend his call.
~~~~
Taehyung bites his lip, staring at Jungkook’s retreating figure. He feels like shit, pain all over his body and stuck in a stranger’s house.
His situation seems incredibly pathetic right now and he can’t stop the tears from welling up. It’s so embarrassing to think about how he ended up sprawled on a stranger’s blanket, bleeding everywhere with a dagger still lodged in his stomach, only to be shown the door in about ten minutes.
The stranger, Jungkook, seemed like a quiet person and very grumpy but still showed him some kindness despite the fact that he was a complete stranger who showed up at his door and bled all over it. His irritable attitude was probably due to the fact that Taehyung was a criminal, and had basically admitted to being one. He’s only so lucky he hadn’t gotten kicked out without the treatment or got the cops called on him.
One look at his tattoo and they’d jail him up.
He dials Jimin’s number, memorized from years of knowing him. His right hand would have a fucking ball learning about what situation he had gotten himself in. Jimin had been warning him repeatedly about not getting into trouble. And he knows that Jimin would never but if word spread, his legacy as a leader would be over. They would overthrow him. Toss him into the street like garbage and elect a new boss.
They’ve all been talking, for months now; he’s only in power because of his father, and any day now, he’s going to fuck up everything.
But only Taehyung knows all the struggles and pressure that he’s been through even though sometimes he truly believes they’re right. If it weren’t for his father, he would have graduated law school, and become a lawyer by now (ironic, isn’t it?)
Instead, he spent his childhood in the basement practicing how to shoot guns, run businesses, run 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘭 businesses to be exact, and emerge victorious in every battle. All until he had to step up as leader two horrible years ago.
The phone finally goes through. “Who is this?”
Jimin’s professional voice was a little scary, giving even Taehyung chills despite knowing the guy for over a decade now.
“Minnie?” He whispers, holding in a groan of pain so he doesn’t alert the elder. “It’s me…”
Jimin gasps, his voice changing drastically now that he knows the identity of the caller. “What? Tae-”
“Shh! Don’t say my name!” Although Jungkook seemed highly disinterested in Taehyung, maybe it was all just an act. For all he knew, the man could be upstairs, listening intently to their phone call.
“...Alright. Why are you calling on a random number? Where are you? Are you okay?”
Taehyung swallows, nervous all of a sudden. “Uh, I’m in trouble.” He turns his head as much as he can to the staircase, half expecting the man to be there, listening.
He can hear JImin choking and can almost see the man’s shocked face despite this not being a Facetime. “Huh-”
“And I got stabbed,” Taehyung says, not wanting to elaborate. He feels too much like an idiot and he’d rather not have his right-hand man losing all of whatever respect he’d had for him. “But I’m fine! I’m with this… guy named Jungkook and he patched me up. But the dagger’s still inside me and y’know I can’t go to the hospital. And he wants me gone.”
Jimin sighs, exasperated from dealing with his shenanigans. Perhaps they should just get a new leader, it would make everyone’s lives easier. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this. Maybe he should just-
“Why didn’t you call me earlier?” Jimin’s voice rises slightly, almost enough to have Taehyung crying fresh tears. “God, Taehyung you- You’re not fine. I can hear it in your voice. And we can pay off the doctors, just go to the hospital will you?”
Taehyung gnaws at his already bleeding lip, fixed up with a bandaid and ointment (courtesy of Jungkook). “My phone died! And I-I can’t. If 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 find me there, they’ll kill me for good.”
“Who-” Jimin sighs again. “Okay. Is there any way this Jungkook of yours will let you stay?”
Taehyung purses his lips. “Probably not. Can you come pick me up, Minnie?”
“Boss…” Jimin trails off, his voice getting smaller. “I would but- Me and Yoongi just got off a flight for that shipment. You know, the one we’ve been planning for months?”
Taehyung closes his eyes tensing. He forgot about that. It was a million-dollar deal in Europe, one that Taehyung had told his right hand to do for him as he had other plans.
‘𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨’
“But I can- can fly back to Korea! O- or send for someone else to pick you up. Someone you trust that-”
“No!” Taehyung protests immediately. “I’d rather walk to Seoul myself and die on the way than let someone from the gang see my state. Y’know how fast word spreads… They’ll be lining up to kill me and take my place.”
“But boss, you’re in danger and-”
“And I’ll figure something out, Min.” He assures although he knows they’re empty promises. “Take care of the deal and pick me up after,”
He sighs, ending the call before Jimin starts protesting. It may seem stupid but he’d much rather die at the hands of the enemy than at the hands of his own. And he’s okay with dying a dishonorable death on the street. The hospitals would refuse to treat him anyway, with a fake ID and barely any money and all.
He squeezes his eyes together, willing the pesky emotions away.
“I found the charge- what are you doing?”
He hears Jungkook walk up to him. “Are you crying?” The man asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
Taehyung immediately brings his hands to his face, wiping away all the tears flowing freely from his eyes. “N-no! M’ okay, it’s just the pain!” He forces a smile, baring his teeth and closing his eyes.
“I gave you painkillers, that can’t be true.”
“Ah, you’re right. I’m okay though, don’t worry!!” He assures, cheerfully. “Um, would you mind taking the dagger out of my stomach in the meantime?”
Jungkook takes his phone and charges it, then glances down at the dagger. “If you want to risk seriously harming an internal organ to no repair then sure,” Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t have the necessary equipment to perform surgery right now. All of that is in the 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭, where you should be going.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not going anywhere. My friend can’t pick me up,” Taehyung mumbles, low and sad but apparently loud enough for Jungkook to hear.
“Okay.”
Taehyung sighs, staring up at the high ceiling. “I’d be killed no matter where I go. But it’s okay.” He presses his lips together. Crying this many times in front of a stranger, especially being a mob boss, was not a good look for him. “Anyway, since you know what I do for a living…”
“No, I don’t-”
“What do you do?”
Jungkook gestures at the bandage tied expertly around his abdomen and the large first aid kit open on the floor. “What do you think?” He blankly asks.
Taehyung gasps, ‘You’re a doctor?”
“Yes, and your situation isn’t looking up right now. You sure you don’t want me to call 911?”
Taehyung doesn’t say anything, just looking up at Jungkook with a deadpan expression. “Is there- I know I’m asking for too much. But is there any way you could be the one to treat me at the hospital?”
Jungkook raises a brow, scoffing. “Why would I do that?”
Taehyung holds back a groan. He should’ve known it would be this way. People were the same here as they were in the underworld; always asking for something in exchange, nothing is done for free.
“I’ll forever be in your debt. Is it money you want? I can’t provide that at the moment but I have a hundred million dollars at my disposal. Information? I can get info about anything or anyone. 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯? I know it may not seem like it right now but our mob provides top-tier protection. We’re a pretty big name in Seoul, y’know? This is just a special case!”
Jungkook doesn’t say a word, just glancing at Taehyung before walking away and doing his own thing. “You’re talking too much.” He simply replies, giving Taehyung virtually 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 to work with. “Rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Taehyung frowns but he tries his best to rest, although he’s not at all comfortable knowing there is currently a knife sticking out of him.
“Umm Jungkook?”
The said man hums.
“I can’t sleep with the dagger…”
He grunts, stomping upstairs and providing no response for Taehyung. The mob boss frowns; perhaps he pushed too hard, annoying the man into leaving him there. He probably couldn’t care less if Taehyung bled out and died on this floor anyway. This was his sign to go officially.
He attempts to get up again, successfully standing up despite wincing a little. This obstacle in his stomach would make things a lot harder for him. And the pain medication was wearing out a little, he could feel a bit more pain.
He catches sight of his wet, blood-soaked shirt on the floor, now more dry. He hastily puts it on to the best of his ability, scrunching his nose at how disgusting he feels.
Before Taehyung could navigate the living room and locate the door, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“Out of your hair, Jungkook. You don’t need to worry about me anymore,” He smiles, saluting. “Thank you for everything, seriously. If you ever want free drugs or need to get out of jail, let me know. Seoul Dragons, remember that name.”
“What are you talking about,” Jungkook narrowed his eyes at Taehyung. He lifts a pair of keys on a finger, Taehyung recognizing it to be a Mercedes-Benz. “If you decide to walk, you’ll die. There’s nothing in the vicinity.”
“Are you taking me to the hospital, Jungkookie?” He can hear Jungkook grumble about the newly made nickname but he doesn’t care. His smile is far too wide. “Can you be the one treating me? Otherwise, I’ll probably get kidnapped again.”
“Not your bodyguard.” Jungkook points out, walking past Taehyung towards the front door, Taehyung falling behind him as fast as he could muster.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Taehyung hums. “But you’re really sweet. I kind of trust you with my life, especially since you saved it. I can tell you my name if you want. It’s T-”
“No.” Jungkook interrupts, lifting a hand. “I don’t wanna know,”
Taehyung frowns. As he said before, names were popular in his line of work. Jungkook could easily do so much with that information. “Oh okay… You never called me by V though. That would be so dreamy. Y’know, I’m mostly referred to as Mr. Kim or ‘Boss’-”
“𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 the boss?” He squints at the blue-haired man incredulously.
Ouch. That was kinda mean.
“Hey! Why’s that so hard to believe,” Jungkook doesn’t provide a response but his expression is enough.
They’re outside the house now, and Taehyung looks back at the mansion. It was certainly not as big as his estates but he knows a rich man when he sees one. It was humongous and he’d love to admire it more during the daytime but it was ass o’clock now and he wasn’t sure what to do.
Jungkook unlocks the car, a sleek designer one, and stretches the passenger seat. “Sitting with that in you will hurt. This will make it better. Rest.”
Taehyung enthusiastically hops in, admiring the interior. He himself owned a Genesis GV80 SUV and a Bugatti La Noire, but he was thinking of adding a Mercedes-Benz to the collection. “A Benz GT63S?” He asks, trying to make himself comfortable despite the harsh bandaging squeezing around him.
Jungkook gave him a tight nod, passing him a pill which was likely to be a pain suppressor. Taehyung just accepts it, popping it into his mouth without questioning it; he 𝘩𝘢𝘥 said he would trust the man with his life. Jungkook starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, the sky pitch black as he drives. It’s silent for the first few minutes until Taehyung physically can’t take it anymore. He hates the quiet.
“Where are we anyway?”
“Daegu.” Jungkook answers, tone clipped.
“Ahh, I heard this place has awesome strawberry fields. You know, I love strawberries. Let’s go one day.”
He hears Jungkook huff but doesn’t let it get to his heart.
“I hope we can be friends after this,” Taehyung mumbles, looking around the void area. “I love the countryside. I’ll buy a house next to you and we can be neighbours and plant a bunch of shit together. Like apples. You look like you like apples.” He knows he’s speaking nonsense but it’s better than this tense silence.
He looks back at Jungkook, taking in the man’s tense posture and sleepy eyes. “You’re like one of the nicest people I’ve met.” He mutters, playing with his fingers. Not that that’s saying much, since most of the people in his life have tried to get him killed.
“Y’know you talk a lot,” Jungkook complains, rubbing at his eyes. The mob boss feels extra guilty now, it was around 3 AM and he was annoying his own kind-hearted saviour to death. “I’m sorry. I don’t like the silence. Can you put on music though?”
Jungkook ignores him, paying attention to driving instead.
And of course, Taehyung takes that as a sign to mess with the radio buttons and play some songs, delighted to hear IU’s Love Win’s All playing on the radio. He closes his eyes, enjoying the music. “Ah, don’t you love late-night radio?” He asks nobody in particular.
“Fucking hell, you’re difficult.” Jungkook swears, massaging his temple. “God help whoever falls in love with you.”
“Would you be the one to do so?” Taehyung teases, a smirk on his face as he watches Jungkook grimace and roll his eyes.
“Love is all!” He croaks out. He didn’t release how ruined his voice was from screaming so loud earlier. Not that that would stop him from singing “Love is all!”
“Love, love, love, love.”
Jungkook groans, throwing his head back and turning off the radio. “Would you stop that?”
Taehyung sulks. “You don’t like IU?”
“I do,” Taehyung takes that as a win. Any little information known about Jungkook was certainly a win in his books. “You’re just ruining her for me.” Taehyung sulked some more.
“My voice is just ruined right now! I’m normally a really good singer, you should hear me at Noraebangs. Maybe we can go to one once I heal?”
Jungkook sighs exasperatedly, pulling over to the side. He rummages through a bag in the front compartment of his car, pulling out three different pill bottles. “Take some sleeping pills. I recommend this one.” He shows Taehyung the bottle with the biggest pills.
“Hmm? Why?”
“They’ll knock you right out. It’s a one-hour drive. And I’d rather you be asleep for most of it.”
“Okay!” Taehyung happily takes a pill from the third bottle, snuggling back into his seat. “Ready when you are, captain!”
He hears Jungkook mutter under his breath, “What is he so energetic now for?” before he immediately starts to feel a little drowsy.
He tries his best to keep his eyes open, just to watch Jungkook and talk to him for a bit more. He could possibly die anytime now, right? “Kookie? Thank you. For everything,” He slurs, reaching out and patting Jungkook on the thigh. “I will always hold you dear to me.”
And for the second time that night, he passes out, in the security of Jungkook’s presence.