091519. hoseok & jimin.

[lovestrippedbare]

AUTUMN.
September 15, 2019.

WHO hoseok & jimin
WHAT jimin's seizure

WHERE bus stop
TIMELINE cycle 1

JIMIN Jimin’s bag is heavy with, books weighing down his shoulders as he sits slouched on the bus bench, elbows on his knees. He’s early, the next bus not scheduled for another fifteen minutes, and he checks his phone after a while, smiling a little when he sees the last text from Hoseok there.

Sitting up a little, he swipes his fingers across the screen, tapping a quick message back even though he knows Hoseok’s only a minute or so away, that Jimin might very well see him face to face sooner than Hoseok will read the message.

He’s right, it turns out, his face breaking into a smile the moment he sees Hoseok turn the corner. “Hi,” he says, waving as he moves over on the bench to make room, his smile brightening when he notices that Hoseok’s not empty-handed. “You brought drinks!”



HOSEOK Hoseok feels his phone vibrate in his pocket as he rounds the corner, but he doesn’t need to check who the message is from, can’t anyway, his hands full of drinks that he bought, tea for himself, a fruit smoothie for Jimin. He grins as he makes eye contact with Jimin, hurrying to join his boyfriend on the bench.

They’ve been dating a little over six months by now, but Hoseok still feels his heart skip a beat when he sees Jimin like this, especially now that he doesn’t get to see Jimin in school. They don’t normally take the bus to the studio, but Hoseok had to work later than usual, and Jimin was sweet enough to meet him at the bus stop so they could have some time together on their way to dance practice.

Sitting down, he hands the smoothie to Jimin. “I hope this is okay?” he says. “I have tea too, if you’d rather have that.”

He bites his lip, wanting nothing more than to lean over and give Jimin a kiss. He knows he can’t, not here on the street in plain sight of all sorts of strangers, but he can’t help aching for it.

“Did you have a nice day?” he asks, bumping their shoulders together softly.



JIMIN Grinning, Jimin shakes his head, his eyes locking onto Hoseok's for a moment as he takes the smoothie happily. He'd give just about anything to be able to lean up for a kiss right now, but knows that isn't possible. Instead, he settles for being able to lean into Hoseok's side when Hoseok sits next to him, humming happily at the contact as he takes a sip of his drink.

"Mmm," he replies, his mouth full before swallowing and licking his lips. The drink is just perfectly sweet, nice and cool in the humid air. "Good enough, I guess. It's a weird year." Weird because it's only him and Taehyung and Jungkook that are left, weird because there's no going to their little abandoned classroom anymore, weird because he doesn't see Hoseok or Namjoon or the others before and after school.

Weird because things are just... empty. Have been for awhile.

"How about you?" he asks, giving Hoseok a nudge, hoping to dispel the weird mood a little. "How was work?"



HOSEOK “Hot,” Hoseok replies, taking a sip of his cool, iced tea, letting it quench the heat under his skin. “But I only got yelled at twice today, so that’s something,” he goes on with a grin, switching his drink to his other hand so he can overlap his pinky finger with Jimin’s on the bench between them, a trick they’ve used for a long time to “hold hands” in public.

Hoseok’s been working at Two Star Burger since a couple of weeks after he graduated, as many hours as he can get and still be able to teach at the dance studio. It’s not a glamorous job and it doesn’t actually pay that well,“I’ but they didn’t look at Hoseok’s family registry when he applied and making any money is better than none. Plus he gets one free meal per shift, and often gets to take free home too, so it could definitely be worse.

“I’m really excited to get to the studio,” he says. “I never feel like I get enough energy out at work, just standing there at the counter most of the day.” He takes another sip of his tea, his eyes on Jimin’s as he smiles. “And I get to see you. I miss getting to see you at school all day,” he adds with a pout.



JIMIN He bites back a smile at the feel of Hoseok’s pinky finger over his, wiggling his own just a little in acknowledgment, just so Hoseok knows that Jimin feels it, that he wants him there.

“Only twice?” he asks with a soft laugh. “That’s a little disappointing. You’ll have to try harder tomorrow.” He gives Hoseok’s shoulder a light bump then, resists the strong desire to kiss his cheek. They’ve been dating for over six months now and it only ever gets harder that they can’t act like other, normal couples.

Of course, they’re not normal, he knows. In more than one way. But that still doesn’t make Jimin want it any less.

“Best part of the day,” he agrees, his smile turning softer before takes another sip of his own drink. He drops his voice a little, not wanting to be overheard. “Not only do I get to see you, but I get to see you all hot and sweaty.”



HOSEOK Hoseok turns his hand, catches Jimin’s pinky with his own, curling them together for a second before he reluctantly releases it. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he swallows. They still get their nights alone together, Jimin sneaking out after his parents go to bed to come to Hoseok’s apartment or letting Hoseok into his place well after midnight. But they don’t see each other as often as either of them would like, and Hoseok loves getting to be around Jimin at dance practice for a lot of reasons, but seeing his boyfriend all sweaty and sexy is definitely one of the bigger ones.

“We should work on our duet tonight,” he says when he opens his eyes, biting his lip as he looks over at Jimin.

They’ve been working on this piece for a couple of months, an idea that started with a conversation Hoseok’d had with Namjoon before he left, a modern/hip hop fusion dance duet. The original idea had included poetry written by Namjoon, added as a voiceover on the music, and they won’t have that, but Hoseok still has hope that maybe Namjoon will be home soon, and they can still add that touch.

“Then maybe we can get some ramen after?” Hoseok suggests, brushing his fingers over the back of Jimin’s hand because he can’t stand not touching him. “And, you know, the usual?” By the usual he means taking their food to go, going to Hoseok’s house to eat, to spend a few hours together, to just be close.



JIMIN If Jimin didn't know better, he'd think that Hoseok's suggestion almost sounds like a euphemism, and invitation to something more than just dancing. But either way, it's enticing and he can't help the smile that spreads across his lips. He loves the piece Hoseok's talking about, loves how their bodies move together, their styles so different but often complementary. Even if they never really show it to anyone, he finds enjoyment in just doing it at all.

"Mmm, I like this plan," Jimin says, grinning as he takes another sip of his smoothie and thrilling at the light brush of Hoseok's fingers along the back of his hand. It feels like a promise for later, but also one for right now, even if it's all they can have.

His smile falters a moment later when he notices a small group of boys headed their way and he quietly pulls his hand away from Hoseok's, leans his body away too. Like usual, their little bubble has been punctured and they both have to go back to pretending. Jimin shifts uncomfortably on the bench and takes another deep sip of his smoothie as he looks away from the group, and away from Hoseok too.

His eyes catch on the glint of reflected sunlight off an approaching bus and he squints.



HOSEOK Hoseok frowns softly when Jimin shifts away, looks up to see four boys walking toward the bus stop, offering a smile before taking another sip of his tea. He knows it’s safer if they put space between them, but Hoseok hates that they have to hide like this, that they can’t even be as close as they used to be when they were just friends because there’s a chance their friendliness will go too far.

“I tried some new choreography last night at home,” Hoseok says, sitting back a little. “It needs some of your style, though,” he adds, trying to sound casual as he watches the bus approach.

It’s not their bus, he already knows that. This bus stop is used for a couple of different bus lines and their bus isn’t scheduled to arrive for another five minutes at least. He’s just staring at it idly, not really paying attention as it rolls up in front of them with a hiss of brakes.



JIMIN The bus is getting closer, is at the wrong angle now for sunlight to bounce off the large, front windshield, but Jimin still can’t tear his eyes away. He feels glued to the spot, the world around him slowly coming to a grinding halt as his chest constricts.

Distantly, he’s aware of Hoseok’s voice, chipper and warm as always, but little by little he starts to sound further and further away.

Grass Flower Arboretum, says the display on the front, but all Jimin can see is red. Red and black and ragged skin and rusted metal. There’s no breath left in his lungs, his chest tight and aching, muscles locking up. His ears are ringing, body drowning, and he can’t look away, can’t close eyes, can’t move, can’t run away.



HOSEOK Jimin doesn’t respond for a few seconds and Hoseok turns to look at his face, his own smile dropping when he sees Jimin staring with wide eyes, lips parted. Hoseok can tell immediately that Jimin’s not there anymore, that something’s very, very wrong.

He reaches to take Jimin’s hand, no longer caring about who might see. “Jimin?” he says evenly, moving to try to catch Jimin’s gaze, but Jimin remains glassy eyed, seeing nothing, terror written in his expression. Panic rises behind Hoseok’s sternum and he moves to shake Jimin’s shoulder gently.

“Jiminie, are you okay?” he asks, voice low and as calm as he can make it, even as real fear starts to set in.



JIMIN He isn't seeing the bus anymore, but instead dirty, damp walls. And blood. So much blood. He's seeing the glint of light off a blade, hearing the sickening squelch of it hitting flesh. And then seeing it.

Oh fuck, he's seeing it.

Over and over and over. Blood splatters, hitting the walls and the windows, rain pelting against the other side. Hitting him.

It's everywhere. It's all over him. He can't help the sound he makes.

He needs to run, he needs to get away. But he can't move. He's stuck and someone's grabbing at him, someone's catching his legs and dragging him down, pulling him onto the hard ground, dragging him back. He kicks and thrashes, cries out as pain and terror slice through him, screams as his entire world turns black.



HOSEOK Jimin starts to shake his head, but he’s not answering Hoseok, he’s not seeing or hearing him, that’s very apparent. He’s making jerky little movements with his head, aborted whimpering noises coming from his throat, and Hoseok’s blood runs absolutely cold.

“Jiminie?” he tries again, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. He moves in front of Jimin, kneeling on the sidewalk, but Jimin’s eyes are vacant, staring wide. And then they roll back, showing the whites before he pitches forward off the bench. Hoseok scrambles to catch him, feels Jimin jerking in his arms, and he does his best to lay Jimin down gently on the ground.

Hoseok knows what a seizure is but he’s never seen one before, isn’t prepared for how terrifying it is. Jimin’s body is shuddering violently and Hoseok doesn’t know what to do, can only think to put his hands underneath Jimin’s head to keep him from bumping it against the pavement.

The boys they saw earlier are staring, no one’s moving, and Hoseok shouts at them to call an ambulance. One them finally pulls out his phone and Hoseok focuses on Jimin, holding him carefully until the seizing subsides and Jimin’s still again. He pulls off his jacket then and places it under Jimin’s head, stroking his hair as he waits for the ambulance to arrive, his heart thundering in his chest.

They let him ride in the ambulance but he can’t hold Jimin anymore, has to sit and watch and wait as the paramedics put in an IV, give Jimin oxygen. They ask Hoseok questions and he tries to answer the best he can, his entire body shaking, his ears ringing, so afraid, so worried. They let him follow Jimin into the hospital, all the way to the emergency room, and he stands in the corner as doctors crowd around, look in Jimin’s eyes, take his blood pressure, his pulse, check his heart and breathing with a stethoscope. Hoseok wants to ask if Jimin will be okay but he can’t find his voice, just stands there trembling, clutching his phone in his hand.

He’s not sure how long he’s been there when Jimin’s mother arrives, and he only remembers then that he’s the one who gave the doctors her phone number. He knows Jimin’s mother knows who he is, that she’s not at all fond of him and his friendship with Jimin, but she’s Jimin’s mother, as shitty of one as she is, and he should tell her about the seizure, he knows he should.

She crosses to Jimin’s bed without looking at Hoseok, moves to look at Jimin’s chart, tucked into the holder at the foot of his bed, touches the lines of the IV drips hanging above him, all with the same cool expression Hoseok remembers from the very few times he’s ever seen her. Then she reaches down like she’s going to touch him, maybe comfort him, but instead she plucks a piece of dried grass from his shirt, dropping it on the floor like she can’t stand to see her son dirty, like his appearance will reflect on her somehow.

Hoseok takes a breath, approaching carefully, and she turns to him when she hears his footsteps. He bows deeply, his heart racing as he stands up and meets her dismissive eyes. He opens his mouth to speak but she interrupts, saying a curt “thank you” before turning back to her son.

He supposes that it could be worse. She could have ordered him out of the room, could have told him to stay away from her son, and the doctors know what happened to Jimin, she’ll find out why he’s here soon enough.

It’s only a couple of minutes later when the doctors and nurses come, all of them unplugging and moving things, getting ready to take Jimin away, probably to another room. He waits until they’re pushing him toward the door, moving to follow behind, but then Jimin’s mother’s steely eyes are on him again, sharp and cold.

“Thank you,” she says, but there’s no gratefulness in her tone. She reaches out and places her hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, a brief touch before she withdraws like she’s touched something disgusting, but the gesture is easy enough to understand.

This is the stay away from my son she didn’t voice before, her opinion – her hatred – of him so clear it takes Hoseok’s breath away. He takes a step back and stumbles, hitting his ass hard on the tiled floor as Jimin’s mother stands over him, expression impassive. His head swims, his ears ringing, vision going spotty, and he tries to breathe but it’s too late, blackness closing in around him.

It feels like a blink, but when he opens his eyes again he’s alone in the room aside from one nurse, stooped at his side, helping him sit up.

“Do you know where you are?” she asks.

“Where’s Jimin?” he asks instead of answering, trying to move to stand. “Where’s my friend?”

“He’s being admitted,” she tells him, stands herself to help him up. “We should take you to get checked out,” she says.

“Can I see him?” Hoseok asks, ready to race down the hall. He should be able to catch them, he wasn’t unconscious for that long.

“Only family are allowed,” the nurse says, the hand on his elbow tensing like she’s prepared to stop him from trying to go after Jimin.

He wants to say that he is family, that he’s part of the family Jimin chose, the family that actually loves him. “Can you tell me if he’s okay?” he says instead.

“He’s going for observation,” she answers vaguely. “You can call his parents for more information.”

He can’t, he already knows that. The nurse seems to think he’s okay enough that he doesn’t need to stay, leading him out into the waiting room and leaving him there without another word. His legs are shaking and he sits down in a chair, his head still swimming, buzzing like he’s half asleep. He doesn’t know what to do, just sits there numbly for a long time, minutes, hours, he isn’t sure. He never sees Jimin’s mother, coming or going.

He should probably leave, but he’s afraid. His hands are shaking when he pulls out his phone, looks down at his contacts, realizes he can’t call half of these people anymore. He feels the back of his eyes start to prickle when he pulls up a number and the tears fall as he listens to the phone ringing in his ear, hoping someone will answer.


CODE BY TESSISAMESS