Seeing Taehyung covered in blood without being covered himself feels different.

His arms are clean, hair damp against his forehead. Face blank, chest tight where his heart beats, but overall, he feels better. If only slightly.

Jeongguk walks quietly down the stairs, having dressed himself in old sweats and a black shirt. Wearing a white one right now seems like testing his luck, especially when he gets halfway down the stairs, and sees Taehyung's own, stained with splotches of red everywhere, brown hair flattened against his face with it.

The floor is almost clean. Yoongi lies on the couch in the living room, his feet visible from where Jeongguk walks. He sees that Taehyung put a towel under him. Yoongi had little to no blood on him, but was probably tainted when Taehyung had to pick him up. He's thankful that Taehyung helped him, that he did what Jeongguk couldn't do.

And yet, Jeongguk isn't looking at any of that.

He's looking at Taehyung. His eyes, and the red that surrounds them. The red that covers him. It coats his skin like paint, spread everywhere, like it's all Jeongguk can see. In his hair, all over his arms. His clothes are soaked with it, black fabric that will likely have to go in Jeongguk's washing machine. He's worse off than Jeongguk was, having been underneath Will when it all came to a height.

And in Jeongguks heart, he feels sorry, but in this moment, he feels shocked, and he can't stop staring. At the way Taehyung looks, almost in his element somehow. Like, as concerned as he feels, and as much as he's helped Jeongguk, he belongs where he is. Bloodstained.

It contrasts against the way his skin glows, nearly hides it. It's hard to find the person who's hands held him less than an hour ago, who rubbed his back while he threw up, who gives him beautiful things that sweep him away from the terrors of reality, just two boys in a field of wheat, honey logged brains in the midst of a dream.

But, as is, most of that is gone, covered. Snuffed out by death, by the red sky Jeongguk fell into. Right now Taehyung reminds Jeongguk of that sky, a solid color of terror hanging above his head.

Taehyung looks like a vampire. Jeongguk can really see it.

That sounds weird, but until now, Jeongguk has seen the man that speaks in kind words, who's saved him twice now, and yet he refuses to let him thank him, he feels the sliver of blood that courses through his veins, the dreams in his head. He caught a glimpse of Taehyung like this before, in that clearing, but Jeongguk had been in a daze.

Now, everything's clear.

The way the blood coincides with his skin. How natural he looks right now, as if nothing happened at all. As if his fingers don't stick to each other while he smooths a rag over the floorboards, collects even more of the thing that drives his very existence. Like he was born this way, and he died this way too, completely drenched in something uncontrollable. Like he might be uncontrollable himself.

And Jeongguk's lungs stop working. The moment Taehyung's eyes meet his. Suspended between them, neverending is the following silence, the cease of the light squish the rag made as it cleaned up all that it could. The black, the brown, that's entirely different from the color that threatened him when Will had been there hours earlier.

And then Jeongguk breathes, and it all comes back. And Will's still there. In the back of his mind as he reaches the bottom of the steps. As Taehyung quickly rises to his feet, a small upturn of his lips settling onto his face as he sees Jeongguk. The upturn slowly turns sad, and Jeongguk resists the urge to bloody himself again. To sink carefully into Taehyung's arms, and ignore the fact that they don't know anything about each other. Just that the same blood that's on Taehyung's face is owned by both of them in a way, their joint burden to carry.

Taehyung opens his mouth, but Jeongguk talks instead. Anything to break the silence that's suddenly deafening, way worse than thoughts rushing in.

"Shower's free," he says quietly, voice sounding strange in his own ears. Like it doesn't belong there. It squeaks, almost echoes within the confines of his skull, but it eases when Taehyung gives him another small smile. He's still holding the rag, shifting it carefully between his hands. Jeongguk wonders how something so small could hold so much blood.

Taehyung seems to notice Jeongguk's eyes trained on his movements, and the rag settles in his left hand indefinitely. When Jeongguk looks back up, he's almost smiling at him. "Thanks," it's spoken softly, but his eyes look sad. He gestures to the nearly clean floor behind him, "I'm almost done, if you want I can finish up before-"

"No. You don't have to do that," because Taehyung has really done so much, "I've got it. Go clean yourself up," he looks at Taehyung from head to toe, and genuinely, that rag is nothing in comparison.

Taehyung frowns slightly, "But you just showered. I don't want any of it to get on you again."

"It's fine," Jeongguk stresses the word, because is it really? He's not sure, but, there's really no way to be sure about something like that after what happened, "I'll be careful. I spent years cleaning up tables, what's a little," he stops, tries not to feel the way his heart lurches and his lungs burn when he jokes, "blood."

Taehyung's frown deepens. "It's not fine."

Jeongguk sucks in a deep breath, and tries to keep his chest from shaking when he lets it go. "I know."

A silence comes again, and the sad look gets sadder, Taehyung taking a step closer, bringing his hands up like he's going to use them to cup Jeongguk's face. As soon as he does it, he looks down, and inspects the blood covering his palms before ultimately deciding to lower them. To leave Jeongguk bare, and clean, although what he says next touches Jeongguk everywhere anyways.

"I'll be back down soon. If Yoongi wakes up, yell for me and I'll try and help him calm down, or whatever I can without making it worse. You're not alone, alright? I'm here as long as I can be, and I won't leave," it's said in a rush, like Taehyung doesn't want to give himself time to second guess anything. Like he's scared to say what he's saying.

His eyes make Jeongguk feel like he might faint, but he doesn't. He listens, and then he nods, firmly, and reaches out a hand. Carefully, Taehyung hands him the rag, and cringes at the way the blood touches Jeongguk's skin. At the way Jeongguk visibly flinches, and he really just wants to clean it up for him, but he's not sure Jeongguk would allow him to.

They share one last glance, solemn, and then Taehyung walks past him and up the stairs. Something builds in Jeongguk's mind, this eating curiosity he can't shake. The person behind him. Taehyung. His arms around him. The warmth of his clothes and the grounding cold of his fingers in his hair. The rag droops in Jeongguk's hands, and he's afraid he'll drop it, especially when he spins around as fast as his body can move, and blurts out, "What's your last name?"

Taehyung pauses. Hand on the railing. Some red dots it, but Jeongguk doesn't mind. He can clean that up too. His back muscles are hunched, face confused as he slowly turns around, and looks at Jeongguk with wide eyes. Boy. He looks like a boy again.

"What?"

Jeongguk swallows. "You," he swallows again, "Your last name. I don't know it, and I've wanted to for awhile."

Out of place, is all he can think. This doesn't make sense. Learning personal details about someone is supposed to be natural, gradual. It's not something someone can bring out of the blue, in a moment where everything feels bleak. In a moment where you feel clueless, but also like the universe has unlocked some truth you had yet to consider.

But Taehyung almost smiles again.

"Taehyung Kim."

Jeongguk almost smiles too. Because it fits. Taehyung Kim. It's a nice name, and it makes Jeongguk see him as more human once again. As a boy. Not a bloodstain, not the bloodstained.

Taehyung's staring at him expectantly, and Jeongguk doesn't get it until Taehyung prods, "Yours?"

And the smile is fake, and it makes his legs shake, but it's still there when Jeongguk says, "Jeongguk Jeon. But I like it the other way. The Korean way? So Jeon Jeongguk."

Taehyung's lips move. Jeongguk feels normal. Nice. The blood's gone. Who was Will anyways?

"Jeon Jeongguk," he says it almost to himself, nodding as his hand slides further up the railing, "Got it."

And in his mind, Will comes back, but Taehyung Kim is the only thing that really stays.

-
short and sweet; a calm before the storm.

also sorry lol m backkkk, and this title is a bts song. next chapter gonna be kinda long. plot time bbyssss