Chapter Text
Chapter one: gentle kisses upon bruises
Soft sniffles and hiccups shutter through the grassy plain of Riffs town church garden. Upon the soft blades of grass and wild flowers sits a boy, face buried against his knees, hair swaying gently with the soft, summer wind, and nails dirty from digging at the soil beneath him.
Jimin stands near an old tree, his blond hair wisping against his honey skin as he watches the boy cry. He steps out from the shaded uncoat of rustling leaves, freckles beginning to glisten with each caress the setting sun touches. His worn shoes crumple the flowers beneath him, brown eyes intensely watching the shaking body of the younger.
Jimin’s eyes trail along the soft purple hues that merge against yellow and green, humming in awe at the way they almost match his own that hide underneath the white sweater he wears. He walks closer, hands unclenching and fingers stretching nervously as he shades the crouched form of the other and clears his throat.
“Why are you crying?” He questions slowly when the boy looks up with a startled expression and Jimin almost finds himself reaching to wipe away those glistening tears from his doe eyes.
Jeongguk is quick to wipe his tears, quick to shake his head and cover his bruised knees up. “It’s okay,” Jimin whispers softly in reassurance as he carefully and slowly takes a seat beside him, not too fast nor too slow.
“I cry in my room sometimes too,” he admits sheepishly as he rubs the nape of his neck and lets his head fall to the side to watch the burning sun. The sky paints itself a merge of purple and blue and Jimin finds himself tracing over his own hidden colors without thought.
Jeongguk watches how the blond stares off dazedly, his own brows furrow in confusion before a small flicker of realization settles upon his features. It’s a sad understanding that trickles between, one that feels like a comforting hand to the both of them.
“My…” Jeongguk starts but hesitates as he lets his legs slowly stretch against the grassy ground, “My mother used to say kisses make it better,” he adds in a hushed tone before glancing at the blond whose lips pull into a soft, lopsided grin.
“My grandmother used to say the same,” Jimin agrees as he carefully moves closer and takes the doe-eyed boys hand, “do yours still hurt?” He questions, voice full of knowing and an accepting sadness as Jeongguk nods and mumbles a low, “yes.”
The blond sighs deeply, honey skinned fingers gently rubbing against the bruises of Jeongguk’s pale skin, after a few seconds, that feel like minutes, Jimin lifts the bruised forearm up and leans in. He blows on the marked skin delicately, plush lips pursed and exhaling in a repeated motion that has Jeongguk watching curiously.
Jimin smiles and presses a soft peck against the skin, a soft press once, then twice before peeking at glances at the younger through the blond locks of his hair. “Have you ever heard of that old song? It goes like…pain, pain go away, come again another day,” he sing-songs with a soft chuckle as Jeongguk shakes his head.
“Does it hurt now?” Jimin questions again as he holds the youngers arm. Jeongguk shakes his head again, cheeks a soft pink and ears burning a deep red as he lets his eyes fall towards where the older holds him. It’s a gentle hold, not a hold to bruise, not a hold that makes him flinch.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Jeongguk exhales breathlessly as he slowly pulls back his arm and clears his throat. “What about…yours?” He questions pointedly as his fingers twiddle against his loose button up.
“They don’t,” Jimin answers briefly as he stands and stretches his legs and begins to walk towards the old, dirt path he had come from. “Don’t cry no more, little lamb,” he calls over his shoulder as he waves.
Jeongguk scatters to stand as well, legs clumsily toppling over themselves as he brushes the blades of grass and erodes of dirt away, “my name’s…” he trials off as he watches the older boys form grow smaller and smaller, “Jeongguk…not little lamb.”