lovestrippedbare | 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕞

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seokjin

𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕞

When the sun starts to filter in through his curtains, soft and with a warm, rosy glow, Jungkook finds himself immediately burying his face back in his pillows, chasing after the dark. Dramatic is not a word that he typically enjoys applying to himself, but he's not sure anything else quite fits the mood he's in, eyes still puffy from lack of sleep. He's afraid to look in the mirror. Afraid to let his limbs slip out from under his covers, out of the soft white, exposing bruises that should be varying shades of purple and pink by now.

His cheek still prickles a little against the soft cotton of his pillowcase.

The pain doesn't bother him. He's not sure that it has in years — doesn't even think that it was his primary concern the first time his father's hand slipped, too quick and direct to pass as an accident. Instead, shame is the emotion that lingers in Jungkook's bones. Not brave enough to stand up. Not strong enough to leave.

Not good enough to be loved.

A gentle knock on the door is what rouses Jungkook fully from his slumber, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he jolts up, instinctively reaching for the robe he keeps by his bed on nights like these. He's sure that he's slipped before, once or twice, in front of his mother. But enough covered tracks have always made it such that she doesn't question it when Jungkook claims that he's just clumsy, bumped into a boy at school he shouldn't have.

He's securing the robe around his waist when the door starts to creak open when he realizes — shit, his face. He doesn't know if the rash has subsided yet.

Doesn't know how he'll explain it, this time.

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The little table setting makes Seokjin's heart hurt a bit. He didn't think he'd taken that long but apparently he still took long enough. Jungkook's had time to set all this up but Seokjin can also detect a certain redness in his eyes that he's seen in the mirror a few times. It's not the same as full-blown crying but it's a similar building up of pressure. There's just no release.

And the implicit apology just makes him hurt worse and Seokjin waves a hand. "Whoever laid hands on you is the one who's made a burden," he says and there's a brittleness in his voice. It's something that Seokjin's taught himself and internalized but hasn't yet learned to believe.

Jungkook still manages to maintain a smile as he looks down at his lap. On some level, he knows that much of the fault lies with his stepfather. Conceptually, he knows that there's no excuse for hitting one's child this way, no matter whether or not they're a child only by marriage or by blood. He knows that if any of his friends were to be experiencing something similar at home, he would be doing everything in his power to get them out of that situation. He knows all of this, surely.

And yet, it's hard not to find fault in himself. How he triggers his stepfather's temper. How he can't seem to find an elegant way to extricate himself from the situation. He's not strong enough to stand up to his stepfather, he's not smart enough to keep it hidden. If he's going to stay in this situation, isn't it the least he can do to make sure it doesn't hurt anyone else?

"It's not that bad," Jungkook offers, not quite meeting Jin's gaze. "I bruise pretty easily. It probably looks a lot worse than it feels."

Seokjin frowns and slips past the table so that he can sit next to Jungkook. He doesn't care if it's overly familiar as he slides an arm around the other boy, gently hugging him from the side, conscious of bruises that might be hidden. "It's bad enough," he says. He wishes he didn't need to be teaching Jungkook how to do this. He wishes he didn't have so much practice.

"Don't worry, once I finish, you'll look like an idol trainee." He smiles and knows it isn't funny but sometimes a bad joke is a useful needle to puncture the worst parts of a bad atmosphere.

Implicit in everything he says is I know how this feels. It's happened to me too.

It's bad enough, Seokjin says, and Jungkook briefly hangs his head, letting his hyung reach around his shoulders. He really meant it — any pain or ache from the blows is negligible at best. He hardly even notices. But there's something about seeing it from Seokjin's perspective, his words soft and his touch gentle, that makes Jungkook wish that he could have done better.

Either in standing up for himself, or avoiding the blows entirely.

He offers a weak smile at the mention of looking like an idol trainee. "Not all of us are born with hyung's natural good looks, huh," he jokes, rubbing at the back of his neck, leaning slightly in Seokjin's direction. "Has hyung... used makeup a lot?"

"It's true," he says, keeping up the front for both their sakes. "But with enough makeup, you can look almost as handsome as me." The joke feels thin in the air and Seokjin offers Jungkook a weaker but more genuine smile.

"I learned how to do it in middle school. My father usually...was better about disciplining me in ways that didn't show," he said. It had only been for truly unfortunate infractions that his father would resort to something so crude as physical violence when cutting words and clear disgust were so much more efficient. "But sometimes I was very disappointing."

Jungkook's foot starts bouncing slightly against the ground, restless, uncomfortable. It's not that he minds Seokjin's presence — if anything, it's the opposite. He feels protected, wrapped up in his hyung's arm, like there's nothing that can touch him in this moment. But the images of what it took for Seokjin to build up such resilience, the notion of discipline running so deep that Seokjin can only frame himself as having been a disappointment, it's almost more than Jungkook can fathom.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No, I'm sure that hyung wasn't a disappointment. It's hyung's father who's the disappointment." Jungkook works his thumb against the palm of his opposite hand, tracing out small circles, the skin pale wherever he applies pressure. He glances up, tentative. Nervous.

"Does your father still...?"

Seokjin smiles but it's bleak. "My father hoped that both of his sons would have the same aptitude for business and finance that he did." At an early age, he'd revealed himself to be lacking in those arenas. "My father wanted me to be a stronger, smarter son." Instead, Seokjin had learned to fold things deep inside himself, to internalize pain and strive for outward perfection. It's barely adequate but as long as he doesn't do anything too shameful, it seems to keep him in his father's good graces.

"And no. I haven't lived with my family since the year before I left for America. He's very busy, so I don't see him often." Probably it's better that way. His father wouldn't want to see him and Seokjin doesn't want to be upbraided for all of his failures again.

Gently, he lays a hand on Jungkook's wrist, offering a hand to hold if he'd like an anchor. "If you ever need a place to be because you don't feel safe, my home is always open, okay Kookie?"

We're your family, Jungkook wants to protest, his brow knitting as he listens and takes in the full extent of Seokjin's relationship with his family. No matter what, Jungkook thinks it must be worse for one's family to cast them out. For one's family to not even care enough to come visit. Seokjin's parents, Jimin's parents — Jungkook doesn't understand. Sometimes he feels that even anger must be a better emotion felt than a sheer dearth of anything.

He licks at his lower lip, gaze dropping for a moment, before he nearly starts at the feel of a hand carefully resting on his wrist. Jungkook nods quickly; he's never doubted Seokjin's love and affection.

"I know," he says, before looking up to meet Seokjin's gaze. "Hyung, I'd be over all the time if it weren't for... my mom, I..."

Jungkook exhales. "I don't want to be a neglectful son."

"You're not," Seokjin says, that much immediate and certain. Jungkook is a better son than his father deserves and he shifts his hand a little, holding his friend's hand with fingers interlaced. With someone else, with the people they might want, the gesture might be loaded but Seokjin means it only as a way to share strength and offer comfort.

"You're a good son and brother. And I'm a little selfish anyway–I hate the apartment when it's empty." His smile is self-deprecating there but he expects it's not actually a surprise. There are ways in which he's transparent to his friends. "At last living alone gives me freedom to be who I really am. Sometimes."

The fingers lacing with his own draw a smile to Jungkook's lips, soft but determinedly present. He turns his own hand to make the contact closer, giving Seokjin's hand a squeeze. The feeling is at once strange and comfortable, a hyung leading his dongsaeng, but gentler somehow. Anchoring, in a moment when everything else feels chaotic.

"You know I'd rather be there," Jungkook says seriously, running his thumb briefly over Seokjin's knuckle. "I would much rather be at hyung's apartment than at the dinner table here. Not just because hyung likes it more, either."

"I know," Seokjin says. He doesn't begrudge any of them their reasons for not being at his apartment constantly, despite how much he wants them to tell their parents to go to hell. Especially now with those bruises on Jungkook's face.

"Let's eat first and then I can show you the makeup. These kinds of things feel less bad on a full stomach." They don't usually feel better because nothing can make that happen but at least food can be grounding.

It's a relief to Jungkook when Seokjin says that he knows, that he understands that Jungkook would rather be at his hyung's place. But life doesn't work in such an idyllic way — never has, and Jungkook has known that ever since the first time his stepfather hit him, when he came to the realization that the distance between them wasn't a matter of lack of familiarity alone. He simply would never, could never be that man's son.

It's funny, how he still tries.

Jungkook squares his shoulders, nodding at his hyung's recommendation. "I had a couple of bites already. It's really good," Jungkook says, quickly working to spoon some porridge into each bowl, keeping the amounts relatively even. "Hyung's cooking is always the best."

Edited 2018-12-27 00:52 (UTC)

If he told Seokjin, he would commiserate. Despite the blood that ties him to the people who made and birthed him, Seokjin is disowned in all but paperwork and only that because his father thinks it might reflect badly upon him. Otherwise, he'd likely have paid out some dispensation and then had a lawyer hand Seokjin a pen.

"I thought you were sick when I made it," he explains. "But it's comforting no matter what." Even he has memories–from sitters and nannies–of being sick in bed with a warm bowl of juk.

He wants to insist that Jungkook eat it all and not worry about him, but Seokjin knows the loneliness of being the only one at the table still picking at his food.

"I got a chocolate bar too."

Jungkook smiles ruefully at the explanation, licking his lower lip as he holds out the bowls for both of them. "I shouldn't have lied," he admits with a duck of his head. "I've worried everyone. Hoseokie hyung offered to bring my homework, Yoongi hyung asked if I was okay. Taehyungie... hyung knows a little more about what's going on with me, but I think that just made him the most worried of all."

He glances down at the warm bowl in his hands, cupping it with both before finally picking up the spoon. Juk is a dish he's had countless times before, especially whenever he's sick. It's even possible that his own mother will make it later today, though Jungkook's done his best to hide the whole ordeal from her.

It's almost routine. Too much of a mark, and Jungkook's stepfather suddenly becomes accommodating at least for that much, willing to call the school about his absence, none of it revealed to Jungkook's mother unless necessary.

Jungkook takes a bite, and finds that it's enough to bring back an appetite.

"How does hyung make juk? Is there broth in here?" he asks, scraping the spoon along the side of the bowl to keep the edges of the juk even. "Ah, chocolate after will be nice. We can split that."

Jungkook doesn't come back to life by any means but he's instantly a little more himself. Maybe with a full stomach and plenty of affection, they'll get a little closer. Seokjin goes through the motions of eating his own serving but doesn't bother hiding the way he puts the bulk of his attention on Jungkook and making sure he eats. Their fathers might not have any love to spare but Seokjin does.

"Yes. I used store-bought but sometimes, when I'm feeling very ambitious, I'll make my own broth." Very often, though, he experiments too much and the results aren't worth sharing. Not if he wants to keep his friends.

The more they sit together and talk, the easier it is to focus on Jungkook and tune out the obvious but now and then Jungkook turns his head in a way that makes the bruise impossible to ignore and Seokjin's heart hurts again. "Whatever it is that made him do that to you," he says, aware that it's abrupt. "You didn't deserve it."

Jungkook looks up, having just taken a bite of juk, and takes a couple of seconds before swallowing. The change in topic is sudden, and his gaze briefly lowers, wondering what triggered the thought. If his cheek looks even worse than Jungkook originally suspected. Subconsciously, Jungkook reaches for his robe, tugging it a little further up his body as he licks his lower lip.

Even with Jin's reassurances, Jungkook can't help feeling like a burden. Like he's pushed both of them somewhere they shouldn't need to go. No friendship should need to dip into situations like these.

"I was late coming home for dinner, and when he pointed it out, I talked back," Jungkook explains, not yet lifting his gaze. "It was stupid of me, hyung. If I'd just apologized, this probably wouldn't have happened. But I was in a bad mood, and I... I made everything worse."

Seokjin presses his lips together and looks down into his bowl. His emotions war between indignation on Jungkook's behalf and the old guilt that comes from being punished for similar mistakes. How many times had he wished he'd just said the right thing rather than attempted to answer back or even explain himself? There's a dissonance he can't shake, knowing in his heart that Jungkook categorically should not have ended up with bruises over something so minor and feeling as if he'd deserved all such punishment himself?

"You talked back and he hurt you so badly you had to stay home from school," he summarizes, knowing that if their positions were reversed, Jungkook would be appalled.

The excuses are so easy to draw out, always on the forefront of Jungkook's mind. On some level, he knows that none of this is fair. That he hasn't done anything that's truly worth the wrath he's faced. But Jungkook also knows that nothing in the world is strictly fair, save perhaps for an unfathomably lucky few — that he should learn better how to play with the hand he's been dealt. What are the alternatives?

He can't leave without bringing shame on his mother. He can't remove his stepfather from the picture.

"I probably could have gone to school. Hyung, it looks worse than it feels, really," Jungkook pleads, even as he still can't raise his gaze. "But people would notice and ask questions, and I... I don't know, I'm not a good liar."

Seokjin leans against Jungkook, willing himself into being safe and comforting and supportive, as if he can somehow absorb some of Jungkook's unhappiness if he wishes hard enough. "I'm the best liar I know," he says with a fake cheery confidence. "And you'd still be upset if I came to school with a bruised face."

Not just upset. They'd be righteously furious, scared, and worried. Seokjin knows because those are precisely the feelings he has right now.

When he speaks again, Seokjin's voice is quiet and serious. "You don't have to make excuses or say it's not that bad to me."

Jungkook stares at Jin for an extended moment, hates the fact that he can picture it. He's always had the impression of Jin's father being cold, calculating — doesn't know why it's taken until now to draw the parallels with his own stepfather. His eyes feel warm again, burning at the edges as Jungkook tears his gaze away.

Because Jin's right. Jungkook wouldn't be able to tolerate the sight of Jin at school with a bruised face. Even knowing that it hasn't happened in years, Jungkook struggles with knowing how to process the information, with how to stem the worries about recurrence.

Some doors never quite close, even if they should.

He licks briefly at his lower lip, raising a hand and dabs at the corners of his eyes with the knuckle at the base of his thumb, catching tears before they fall.

"Maybe I'm saying it a little for myself," Jungkook murmurs, swallowing thickly before exhaling, his shoulders sagging just a touch. "I keep telling myself that it's only for two more years. After that, he won't be able to touch me again."

Two years isn't that long in the grand scheme of things but, Seokjin knows, it's long enough. So many terrible things can happen in an instant and there are so many chances for them to happen in that space of time. Jungkook probably knows that just as well as Jin does. "You're brave," he says without any condescension. "And you're stronger than that man. You're better than him."

All of his friends, Seokjin thinks, are so much better than he is. "Maybe if I concentrate really, really hard, I can make your birthday come faster," he offers, mouth wry and a little sad. If only. "There's so much I'd do if I could."

If he were truly given the offer, would Jungkook take it? There's a part of him that wishes it were truly possible to skip directly ahead to two years from now, when all of them will be free from the clutches of their parents. No matter how hard it might be to find their footing without the financial support, Jungkook believes that they must be capable of it. Every year, a new wave of young adults sets off on their own.

There's no reason to think that they can't do so every bit as well as anyone else.

But there's a certain fear that accompanies the thought of the future as well. Too much uncertainty about what might have changed. Perhaps it's best to live life out from day to day, Jungkook thinks, if only so that nothing comes as a devastating blow.

"Hyung, you already do so much," Jungkook smiles, raising his bowl in emphasis. "You knew something was up and came to take care of me. That's what I needed most, I think. Not to be alone."

He glances down at his bowl, then scoops up another spoonful of juk, savoring the bite.

Seokjin fails to see how it'll ever be enough. All he wants is to give, to make up for all the ways he's not enough. If he can be, at least, a good friend, a reliable friend. That's closer to enough, though not ever fully there.

But he also understands and he reaches out, squeezing Jungkook's shoulder. "I think that people–not just us–have a lot that they go through and they think handling alone is the best way but..." But it makes them isolated and lonely. Seokjin smiles, recognizing that he's better at saying than doing, so good at locking up everything he thinks and feels.

He thinks of Yoongi. "There are a lot of burdens that don't feel so bad if they're shared."

Jungkook does his best to return Seokjin's smile, though it's not without a slight tightness in his chest. There's nothing wrong in any of what Seokjin said. Not all matters should be handled alone. Not all burdens should be carried alone. Sometimes, all that it takes to make something bearable is for the weight to be shared between a few people.

Still, Jungkook can't help but look at Seokjin's expression and know that he did that — he dimmed the happiness that was there when Seokjin first peeked his head inside. He caused the worry that's just behind the gaze.

"I guess I just didn't want to be that burden for anyone else," Jungkook says quietly before taking another bite of juk.

Seokjin's expression softens. He knows how hard it is. Early on, Seokbeom had made it clear that he would be no confidant to his younger brother, laying the groundwork for a lifetime of believing that his problems were his alone. Even now, especially as the eldest of their friends, he forgets that he can.

But right now isn't about him. Seokjin is here to help Jungkook.

"You're the baby," he teases gently. "It's your job to be a burden. I didn't raise you on my back for you not to share!"

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