I'll be your voice

Taehyung wakes up with a squirming, sweaty Jungkook underneath him, shifting his position again and again. He takes the decision of wrapping his arm around the boy’s waist, bringing him closer to his body and shuts his eyes, taking advantage of the few more minutes they have before the alarms rings up.

Jungkook ceases his restless movements for a brief second before he writhes again, turning his back at Taehyung and sighing in his pillow profoundly. Taehyung flutters his lashes at the boy, dumbfounded, and turns his body towards him, placing his hand underneath his shirt onto his stomach, in the hopes of calming down the boy and perhaps gaining the remaining minutes of peaceful slumber.

Taehyung nuzzles his face onto Jungkook’s neck and closes his eyes once again, relishing in the warmth and intimacy the spot provided.

“Tae?”

“Mhm?”

“Can’t sleep.” Jungkook whines, turning his front to Taehyung, again, and pouts.

“Wh-“ Taehyung tries to speak but the words remain stuck dryly in his throat. “Why?” He attempts one more time and in this instant the question comes off as a tormented whisper. His eyes enlarge in temporary shock and he brings a hand to his throat to massage it softly. He swallows and quietly winces at the discomfort within his parched windpipe.

“TaeTae?” Jungkook inquires and worry laces his voice. His facial expressions soften as he completely ignores the question that’s just been addressed to him, shoving down his own inconvenience and nuisance his heel wound supplied. It wasn’t such a big deal right now. “What’s wrong?”

Taehyung frowns from the soreness and tries to cough it out, gulping down the small amount of saliva that accumulated in his mouth, hoping that it would lubricate in the slightest way the dryness and agony finding haven in his throat. “H-hurts.”

Jungkook looks at him petulantly and places the back of his hand on Taehyung’s sweaty forehead. He sighs at the hot encounter his fingers meet against his skin, confirming his anxieties and intensifying his worry. “You’re burning up, baby.” 

Taehyung looks sad and disappointed. Not only is Jungkook’s injury not fully healed yet, but also Taehyung has a sore throat now. Taehyung opens his mouth in an attempt to speak only to be sealed shut by Jungkook’s finger.

“Don’t talk if it hurts. It’ll only make you feel worse, you know.” Jungkook speaks and his voice is low and soothing as he moves his hand to cup the other boy’s cheek, tracing soft patters onto it. Taehyung relishes in the touch and hums approvingly.

“Do you want some tea, baby?” Jungkook asks lovingly, “Nod if you do.” He further instructs before Taehyung can gesture anything to respond the question.

Taehyung nods accordingly and smiles lazily at the boy. Jungkook bumps their noses together and gently gets up from the bed, “See, you are being very cute right now and I would kiss you for a long, long time.” He places the blanket attentively around Taehyung’s body, tucking him in like a baby, “But you are sick and I don’t want to get sick, so don’t be mad if I can’t kiss you, okay?” Jungkook explains carefully before leaving the bed and walking towards the kitchen to boil some water for the said tea.

Taehyung giggles at the adorable clarification of the circumstance and watches the silhouette of his boyfriend slowly vanish away as his eyes close faintly.

He wakes up soon afterwards, with the smell of forest fruits engulfing the room sweetly and a chaste kiss being placed on his temple.

“You’re that tired?” Jungkook mumbles meekly, gazing at his lover in awe. His heart breaks knowing that he is helpless in a situation like this. He wishes that he had a superpower that could cure the people he loved against anything ill and malicious and keep them under his protection at all times. But sometimes, fantasies remain just fantasies and his superpower can reduce itself solely to affection and care.

Maybe, that suffices in some ways, he thinks.

Taehyung shrugs weakly in response, releasing a delicate yawn against the pillow.

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” Jungkook croons, helping Taehyung stand up on his bottom, resting his back against the bed frame. He rearranges the duvet so that his sweaty physique isn’t exposed to the cold air.

“Here, drink this. It’s not hot but it’s not cold, either.” Jungkook offers the tea mug humbly to his boyfriend, who takes it swiftly and hums at the fervent touch.

“It’s forest fruit. Your favorite.” Jungkook continues with a faint smile planted on his face, watching Taehyung carefully as he takes a sip. “I added sugar, too. Is it good, baby?”

Taehyung nods gently and takes another sip, taking full pleasure in the hot liquid mending the parchedness sentient in his throat. The sweet flavor falls easily down through it, soothing the ache and soreness.

Taehyung takes a few more sips then glances over at Jungkook. He places his hand on Jungkook’s ankle, rubbing it in a careful manner and looks at him contemplatively, tilting his head to a side. Taehyung hopes that Jungkook will understand the silent question.

“My heel?” Jungkook asks, furrowing his brows together.

Taehyung nods.

“Oh. Doesn’t hurt as much.” Jungkook admits candidly. The injury began to heal rapidly but the management team still refused to let Jungkook engage in any of the choreographies. “But it’s annoying, you know? I want to dance on stage. I’m sick of that chair.” Jungkook whines, pressing his lips together and looking at the lesion.

Taehyung wants to reassure him and tell him that everything will be okay. His heart deflates in his chest knowing that he can’t speak and the option of resting his voice will definitely fasten the recovery, which is very much needed for their concert tomorrow. He lets go of his ankle and grabs his phone.

Jungkook tilts his head, bewildered. “What are you doing?”

Soon after, his own phone buzzes and the text is from no one else but Taehyung.

“You’re going to be okay, just a couple more days. Don’t be sad, baby.”

Jungkook’s face lights up all of the sudden and he leans forward instinctively. He stops right before his lips touch Taehyung’s and he mewls at the hindrance, pulling himself back. “I want to kiss you. I hate it that you’re sick. It’s not fair.”

Taehyung finds himself to be in a pitiful condition, feeling grieved at his sickness and knowing he’s the cause of Jungkook’s indisposition. He places his hand on Jungkook’s thigh and massages it slowly, sending him soundless signals, letting him know that he’s sorry.

“I know.” Jungkook tells him. And he sounds weak and defeated. “Do you want to go back to sleep?” He suggests, “I’ll be the big spoon, if you want.”

Taehyung nods compliantly and Jungkook gets beneath the covers, pulling Taehyung closely to him and kissing his nape before closing his eyes.

“I can sing! You can’t remove from the concert.” Taehyung fights back, voice harsh and hoarse. “Jungkook is already immobilized to a chair and you want me to stop singing?  That’s crazy.”

“If you force your voice more than what it allows you right now you will lose it for much longer than you want, Taehyung. Be rational, please. None of us want you to not sing, but we’d rather you toned it down for a night or two so you can get regain your voice quicker, okay?” Namjoon tells him, accompanied by Jungkook on his side who occasionally nods his statements. “You can participate, no one said you can’t. Just don’t sing any high notes, that wouldn’t do you any good.”

“Fine.” Taehyung agrees forcefully and shifts on his feet to leave the room.

Namjoon sighs and massages his temples with his hands.

“I’ll talk to him, it’s okay, hyung.” Jungkook advises in a reassuring manner and leaves the room.

Jungkook ends up convincing Taehyung that it’s okay if he cannot sing the high notes and no one will be upset at him if he doesn’t. His health should come first.

Jungkook even offers himself as an example, which seemed credible enough. If you take a feisty energetic dance lover, Jungkook, and hinge him to a seat throughout the entirety of a concert, then maybe that exclusively provides sufficient proof to Taehyung he should accept his condition and do not feel so bad about himself either.

The concert begins and Taehyung struggles to breathe through his mouth, since he has a stuffy nose on top of everything. Jungkook keeps his gaze pointed at him most of the times, offering him reassuring looks when any of Taehyung’s parts approach and his demeanor is mostly filled with visible sadness and disappointment.

When Anpanman comes, Taehyung moves to Jungkook’s chair, giving his boyfriend his own mic and offering him to sing his lines. Jungkook does exactly so, facing the crowd and taking pride in uttering the intro, delivering it smoothly while Taehyung rests his forearm on his shoulder.

Taehyung peers at him with a sense of achievement and feels the presence of faint traces of sorrow assembling within him. Since he feels like he cannot fulfill his duties as an idol and perform adequately it is unintentional that he feels sadness and displeasure.

Taehyung sings his other parts although the burning pain in his throat urges him to do the opposite. He fights it for as much as he can, until his voice cannot offer him what he wants anymore, rough sounds risking to emit from it unceremoniously.

So when The Truth Untold is next, he resigns from singing his part and the crowd omniscient to his unspoken avowal, does it for him. Thousands of voices join in unison for it, producing harmonious sounds. Taehyung feels his heart swell in his chest and gratitude and utmost admiration. He fights powerfully against the approaching tidal wave of tears, burying them down inside of him.

Taehyung feels understood. Understood by Jungkook, who sang his part, understood by Namjoon who advised him to take care of his voice, understood by armys who didn’t mind singing a few lines for him.

And perhaps that’s all he ever wanted.

To be understood.

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