catch you
jihoonmi:
( ... )
“you okay?” he asks, though he knows bomin will probably say i’m fine and give him that small doesn’t-entirely-reach-his-eyes smile, maybe ruffle his hair, and that’ll be the end of it, even though jihoon knows him better than that. he just knows it’s usually pointless to press. bomin is just bomin, and bomin has always let jihoon do the talking, even for as much as jihoon wants otherwise sometimes.
he looks him over, then spots the blood. “ah,” he observes, and then reaches their first aid kit first. they have quite the history of patching up each other’s wounds, so he says, “we have to quit meeting like this,” with a hint of a smile.
it’s not like there isn’t much to say when he’s around jihoon. it’s that bomin’s never actually found a need to say anything when he’s around the other boy. and it’s not something that he particularly dislikes; bomin’s never been a talkative guy, preferring to leave his words at a minimum when he can because speaking could turn to be too much of a hassle for him. so there’s no reason, really, for him to speak as much.
his thumb grazes over his own knuckles, it’s not bleeding terribly but it’s grazed the wall enough to peel of a layer of the skin. “i’m fine,” he says, and he gives bomin a half smile before he attempts to reach for the first aid kit, only for his friend to get there first. it seems as though bomin can’t go far, not that he’d planned to, so he lets jihoon do what he wants.
“i think it’s charming,” he jokes as he sits down. his eyes fall onto his own knuckles and he feels a little pathetic for having let himself get as emotional as that. it’s silly, really, it’s not like bomin didn’t know what he was getting into when he signed himself up for a gang of all things. he sighs, and pulls his hand away. “you don’t have to do that,” he says to jihoon as he gestures to the first aid kit, “you can just leave that here and i’ll take care of it myself,” it’s my own fault anyway.
usually he’d let jihoon take care of his other wounds if he’d gotten into a fight, but this time it had been his own dumb decision, his own inability to cap his emotions. so he’d rather not have jihoon tend to him; bomin was pretty good at being on his own too.
at that moment his phone rings, a notification popping up on his screen. he picks it up, takes a read and smiles; it’s a photo of his friends (the normal ones) inviting him over to have lunch with them. “ah... how should i explain this?” he mumbles, looking at his hand.
“hey, i’ll be going out for a bit, so i’ll see you when i do,” he says, reaching out to apply some cream on his wounds.
