nuguseyo2013 for everyone
Title: My Feet Sound The Alarm
Recipient: everyone
Group & Pairing: Bangtan - V/J-Hope (side Suga/Jimin; Jin/J-Hope)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Alluded drug abuse, violence
Summary: Hoseok's in deep, but there's this kid who makes him forget that for a little while. Even if they get off on the wrong foot.
Hoseok had heard in a movie once that, with a gun in your mouth, you speak only in vowels.
He’d half-watched the film when he slid into one of the back rows of a third year film lecture, to visit a hyung with his head shoved face first in his own bullshit irony complex. Even as Hoseok squints his way through hazy subtitles and a B grade average, he feels now that he should have known such an obsession would have been one of the main factors toward his current condition.
That current condition being the gun forced past his lips down one of the twists and turns of Hongdae that you only take in the daylight. Replica handguns aren’t much, but they’re sure to cause damage at this range. While deep-throating a replica of a far more expensive handgun, Hoseok can attest that everything pouring out around the barrel isn’t worth its weight in salt. Though even if the effort managed to produce more than garbled vowels, it isn't enough at this point.
Not enough to convince a horde of what he assumes at this point are kkangpae to not take all of his innards out and spread them across the concrete. The rest, before or after that, is up to the imaginative tuning of Mr. Sunshine standing further to the back.
Hoseok was all horse teeth and bright energy, faced with Seokjin’s empty smiles and terms barely understood - even those hastily scribbled, whispered, repeated, until the lines burnt to the insides of his retinas infiltrated into his sleep and stung.
Nights like this he hopes Seokjin-hyung tries to shoot his imaginary friend near four hundred gallons of nitroglycerin.
He supposes that might be the missing teeth talking. The resulting blood he keeps swallowing is making him nauseous. It’s a small wonder he’s still conscious, but is in part to the careful ass kicking that stops just before his consciousness clocks out for the night.
Just useful enough to keep alive apparently.
Even if Hoseok did manage to close his eyes and succumb to an abyss to escape this reality it wouldn’t be long before he would be waking up to this again.
There was nothing to do than keep one eye open while the other swelled shut.
'Well little thief, you're going to get what's ours back. Or the monetary equivalent.'
There is a faint metallic clack as the barrel moves roughly against his teeth. There are more remaining than he figured when he spat out what he can only assume in the even waning light was a molar earlier. Tonguing around the barrel lightly he finds, no, it was a canine.
'Isn't that right, thief?'
A minute nod, followed by a few more enthusiastic ones once the holder of the gun managed to abide by better gun etiquette. Polite. Thank you.
'Get on it.'
Yeah, well, fuck you sideways with a pineapple too mate.
-x-x-
One of the obvious ways of getting money, when you lack a significant amount of it, is to take from others. Hoseok doesn't have seven hundred million won. Not in liquid, paper, or even in if he sold all his possessions. Unsurprisingly enough, he also doesn't have and the equivalent amount in cocaine. Said cocaine has probably, by now, made its way underground. Sold, moved, or taken, it doesn't matter now. No one could outrun the Kook once it passed into his hands.
Not to mention there was no way of avoiding payment, Mr. Sunshine had made that clear.
Assault, stealing, call it what you like. The words don't change that this is less painful than the alternative.
'This is the money for cat food, why would you want cat food. You're not a cat, are you?'
It is, however, a whole lot harder when the victim wants to talk about it.
'Yes, nyanya motherfucker, now please hand over the cash.'
'What kind of mugger says please.
'This one, just--'
'Though, thinking about it, you kind of have a bird mouth. This definitely isn't bird food money.'
'Look, kid--'
'My name is Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.'
Hoseok swears he's going to spit his loose molar on this kid, 'Look, Taehyung--'
The kid stops and regards him for a moment, 'Your mouth is weird, now you look like a horse...How does your mouth go from being so huge to impossibly tiny. You're a bird and also a horse.'
Taehyung pushes the money into Hoseok's hands.
'Wh...'
'Even strays, need food too,'
'Right.'
'Because you were, are, a stray. Stray horse-birds are also a thing.'
'I don't think they... do, Taehyung.'
'Yeah, well, you would say that.'
-x-x-
Each movement pulls at a forgotten bruise, a strained muscle, a not quite accidental stab-turned-slash wound to the thigh that, though shallow, was rude enough to stain a perfectly good shirt with the amount of bleeding it had done on the way from the fourth floor of that old warehouse out in Hongdae.
He should really get stitched up because right at this moment he looks pretty suspicious hanging around in a public toilet looking like he was mauled by a tractor. Possibly the hospital will probably do a good job patching him up, more than likely actually. That's all true and everything but with the state he's in he wants his flatmate, and he wants his friend from back when he used to dance underground.
Hoseok's ride is three hours late and the pressing feeling on his temples and the overwhelming nausea keeping him gripping at the porcelain edges of the sink are keeping him from being at the top of is game.
Somehow, Hoseok finds he isn't up for faking details on forms after what would end up being a two hour limp.
High school first-aid taught him how to check for concussions, not that he can remember it. As he coasted he way out on his ass just above the baseline he's just glad he remembers which way is up.
He's also pretty sure all he has to do is stay conscious.
The very much not fake lip ring had been ripped out at some point in the scuffle. The resulting wound had the audacity to continue bleeding on the rest of his perfectly good shirt despite all manner of mopping up which was done. Two out of three earrings had gone the same way as the lip ring at one point or another during the night. They're also bleeding steadily on to the shoulders of a jacket Hoseok had procured via a five-finger discount and is very much appreciating how blood seems to disappear into darker fabrics.
Several paper-towels dabbed with water and sometimes spit later, Hoseok looked nearly presentable. The blood that had caked his face now ran into the sink in faint pink lines. Scrubbing boredly, Hoseok spat and smiled faintly as he checked over his remaining teeth to find that, no, another hadn't come loose in his struggles to get to a public bathroom.
'You look like deep-fried shit.'
Yoongi leaned against one of the toilet doors that were locked shut from the inside from being forever under maintenance. People who knew Yoongi fairly well would call the emotion flashing across his face some form of concern. To others like Hoseok who had known him since his underground rapper days it was like a seal trying to swallow a fish far too big for it. He appeared simultaneously pleased that someone had shat all over your existence whilst being distressed that he wished it wasn't more glee than his emotional capacity could handle.
'What fucking took you so long.'
'Jimin, traffic, Jimin, parking, Jimin.'
'You fucked your boytoy not once but three times before coming to get me, thanks Yoongi.'
'You're welcome, your highness.'
Hoseok checked his faintly pink remaining teeth in the mirror, licking smoothly over them he counts one molar and a canine are missing from his set of teeth and that's not bad for a nights work.
'Namjoon.'
The look of glee crossed over into suspicion, 'Not hospital?'
'Namjoon, now.'
'Alright captain freeloader, if you get blood on my couch by the end of this you'll be the one cleaning it.'
'It's ugly as sin, you wouldn't even notice.'
'Don't say that about Bertha.'
-x-x-
'H- Hey! Kid!'
The brat either doesn't hear him, or is completely oblivious to his calls. Shoulders straight and walk taught, Hoseok assumes the kid can hear him all the same. He's wearing one of the local school uniforms but Hoseok's been so far out of that game he can't tell head or tails of it. Taehyung could be a co-ed brat like Jimin, or any of the other schools in the area, or not at all and decided he'd throw caution to the wind and cosplay on his way to the supermarket.
Honestly, Hoseok had only just met the kid and he still wouldn't put it past him.
'Just because you're a stray doesn't mean you have to follow me home.'
Well, that stops him. Hoseok stalls for a moment and looks at the kid, all fire and disgust
'I have a little sister and brother to think about, I can't afford another to feed.'
Ah.
'Especially a nameless one.'
'That's not...' Hoseok pulls at his own face in mild frustration, dragging fingers down his face in exaggerated frustration, 'I tried to take your money, what kind of person just hands over their name over to someone they just tried to steal money from. You've already got a pretty good look at my face so it's not like I'd try anything else at this point.'
-x-x-
'Yoongi. He's not a dog.'
From his position on Yoongi's back, Hoseoks breath flows raggedly. The scent of Yoongi's own fear and sweat fills his mouth and lungs. His face Is half-pressed into the nape of Yoongi's neck out of exhaustion and slowly, but surely, he is becoming less aware as a his brain fogs over. While in the backseat of the deathtrap Yoongi called a car, Jimin had kept him conscious through sheer force of will. Without Jimin's asinine comments Hoseok found himself slowly drifting in and out of lucidity. Though he managed to keep his swollen eye lifted barely above Yoongi's shoulder in an effort to release the pressure, it still constantly throbbed in the rhythm of his skittery heartbeat.
On the drive over Jimin had looked up on his phone for how long it'd take for him to see again.
Possibly unseeing for possibly a week.
Great.
'He's the size of one... uh, one of those big ones, a wolf hound.'
Yoongi rolls his thoughts around in his mouth like a distasteful gummy. Unwilling to bite down or swallow them, but equally disliking the idea of spitting them out onto Namjoon. The words chosen in a panic, but also care, coming skipped and blurted as Yoongi keeps his word and days no more than needed.
Hoseok tries to raise his head and remind them that he's here, but each time the room spins and he feels the taste of lunch he didn't eat press in against the back of his already raw throat. Legs hooked around his waist and held up by Yoongi's hands, arms looped around his chest. Each movement pulled at almost forgotten tears and he sighs, facing darkness again, listening to the words floating in on him.
'That's not the point. I'm a vet nurse. I work with vomit, shit, and viscera coming out so fast you don't have time for a bucket--.'
'Namjoon.'
The name left Hoseok's mouth in a rough groan, he lolls his head to one side so he can get a one-eyed glance at him. He tries to hold his gaze but eventually has to move back to his previous position as the room spins around him.
'...How far in the shit are you?'
'Seven... hundred mil...lion won. Give or take.'
'Hobi...'
'Don't... call me that.'
The words fell out of his mouth with thorned edges despite his placid facade. Hoseok blinked in to the lights around him that were bleary distant dreams. He can feel a familiar feeling creeping in his chest that's curling around his heart and making a home. Tendrils are reaching out and into his lungs, digging deep and pulling at the tiny sacks of air within. Panic. Fear. Fingers fiddling with the eyelets of his darkened jacket his smile falters in and out of place. Though never quite falling out, switching rapidly as the focus moves from point to point around the room.
'Hoseok-hyung. Hoseok.'
Namjoon pulls him forward, gesturing for him to get up on the table.
'Let's get galbi when this is over, alright? my treat.'
Hoseok must have answered, or Yoongi for him.
He adjusts his eyes enough that everything falls out of focus only to have it sharpen with each pierce of the needle applying a new stitch to the wound.
'Did you know that the base of the needle is called a 'swage' in English? S- W- A- G- E.'
He could really do without Namjoon's nervous bedside chatter as he worked.
-x-x-
He's not sure at what point their fingers became loosely intertwined, but as Taehyung is dragging him across the park he can't find reason to care. Lying on the grass and pointing out clouds and discerning shapes, Hoseok wonders if a person in his state can actually be this relaxed without floating out of existence. Elephants and spaceships, stories about bats that are scared of the dark, introspective detailing in relation to hand holding and clouds. This kid was energy personified with his stupid bunny eared hoodie that had made it's way proudly out of Taehyung's bag when the sun dipped low and the temperature with it.
Hoseok rubbed his forearms tiredly, kid probably thought he was one of those kpop idols or something.
The anxieties of his current situation were swallowed by Taehyung's presence, so much so that the thought of the inevitable parting made him feel nauseous. Breathe, let it pass.
'You could give me one.'
'...What.' Taehyung stared blankly, 'I'm not giving you my hoodie, I don't even know you.'
'A name. Brat.'
'Huh...' For a moment, Hoseok thinks he'll just ask his name. Instead, looking at him contemplatively, Taehyung takes takes a pregnant pause before finally, 'Hope.'
Hope.
Something rises from his gut, a feeling of expectation and desire. There's an action needed to continue but Hoseok's got no moves left in him. There's trust and want mixing together. Using these feelings as a springboard, he rolls on to his side he takes Taehyung's face in his hands.
'J-Hope. My last name starts with J.'
'Ah, okay.' Taehyung smiles a little, 'J-Hope hyung.'
Kissing his nose he whispers 'Thank you'.
They part ways with promises to meet again.
-x-x-
It's the contrast between the final exhale of carcinogens and the first breath of fresh air. How the cool air hits your teeth in a way that forms a juxtaposition of tastes and feelings.
Each exhale into the night air coming slower and slower as Hoseok reaches the end of his final cigarette. Not as though there weren't more, but as he finds the sticks coming in fewer pairs he counts the days til his next paycheck and tosses the packet into his napsack with a strip of tape standing between the box and the miscellaneous contents of his bag. Keeping people off his back had boiled down to doing jobs, til the debt was repaid. In a part of his mind, Hoseok knew there was no end to the debt, that he'd be in this til the end.
There was no energy available to even be mildly disgruntled about that fact.
'H... Hey?'
The swelling on his eye has gone down, though not by much. However, though through sunglasses he couldn't see jack shit but he can hear perfectly fine through the bustling noises of the Hongdae sounds. That voice he knows with the lilt of awkward indecision.
'Jin-hyung!' The smile that pulls at his lips is missing a canine and any sense of enthusiasm despite the effort it takes to tug it around the bruising.
There's an awkward lull and Seokjin looks him over, really taking in his current state. The fading bruises, the ripped out piercings, the bandages holding him together.
Their hands find each other smoothly. Together he can feel his elevated heart-rate and the suffocatingly warm hands. No different than the times of skinship between classes where Hoseok took the dilation of pupils to be affection rather than the abuse of drugs that it was. When Seokjin pulls Hoseok's hands to his chest, Hoseok can only hear the heart-rate clearer.
'I knew you wouldn't leave me, you never would desert me.'
Hoseok shakes his head, clearing the jumble of thoughts cluttering it. Seokjin, Seokjin, Seokjin. Sallow and sunken Seokjin with his jittery hands moving from his palms and along his forearms. Eyes darting to and fro, never settling. Nails digging down into Hoseoks skin, apologetically smoothing the area soon after.
'I'm cold, keep me warm?'
Stepping back from Seokjin, Hoseok pries their hands apart, 'Jin-hyung... Seokjin. Stay with me here.'
'I'll stay with you anywhere, H...' Seokjin's face falls and his eyes bleed panic.
'It's okay hyung, It's okay.' It's okay to forget me, 'I'll see you around.' No, I won't.
-x-x-
'Remember that one time I mugged you.'
'You mean tried, I don't think it counts if I give you the money hyung.'
'Shut up, Taetae.'