Word Count: 2,287
Warnings: Excessive swearing, unexplained transformations, head injuries
Summary: Taehyung is sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, giggling while the deer struggles to stand and walk and occasionally turns to glare at him like he’s somehow at fault.
Notes: Merry Christmas! I don't know whether to say enjoy or to apologize. I never meant for my first-ever posted BTS fic to be something like this. I was actually going to do VIXX at first and then something told me that it needed to be Jungkook, so there you go. As the final one, this is even extra long, which I also didn't plan.
Prompt: Pretend you have been given a baby reindeer to raise. Write about what you will do to take care of it. What challenges will you have to overcome?
Yoongi is tired. He and Namjoon were in the studio all night, polishing a new track for the next album. Given this fact, there is a high likelihood that Yoongi could, potentially, be hallucinating.
He hopes to god that he’s hallucinating.
If he’s not hallucinating, that means that there is, in fact, an actual deer in their living room. A surprisingly small, knobbly-kneed deer with the biggest ears Yoongi has ever seen. Its coat is dark, almost black with a satiny sheen.
Taehyung is sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, giggling while the deer struggles to stand and walk and occasionally turns to glare at him like he’s somehow at fault.
“Namjoon,” Yoongi says, and his voice comes out both much rougher and much weaker than he’d meant, what the hell. He coughs loudly to clear his throat and then repeats, “Namjoon, did I take my sleeping pills already?”
Namjoon makes a pained noise from just behind him, but doesn’t respond with actual words. He sees it too, then. Damn it.
Decision abruptly made, Yoongi stomps into the room and growls, “Yah, Kim Taehyung.”
Taehyung looks up with bright, excited eyes, but immediately cows when he sees Yoongi’s expression. Turning sheepish and ducking his head to stare up innocently beneath his eyelashes, he asks, “Yes, hyung?”
Yoongi knows this trick, the cute naïve façade that Taehyung puts on when he wants to get his way with things, and just grunts, “What did you do.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Taehyung practically shouts, losing the mask and throwing his arms in the air. Yoongi only manages to avoid getting a hand to the face because of frequent practice. “He was like this when I found him!”
“He?” Yoongi turns to blink at the deer, and sees Namjoon creeping cautiously nearer, apparently afraid of spooking it. The deer turns again to—to glare at Taehyung, and its soulful brown eyes catch on Yoongi instead and all of a sudden he realizes, “Jungkook?”
The deer makes a sad sort of…mooing noise and gives up on standing altogether, flopping down until its head rests on its crossed front legs. Its back legs are sprawled haphazardly behind it and its eyes are wet and wide like Jungkook’s are when he’s about to cry.
“Fuck,” Yoongi says, dropping onto his ass without meaning to. And then once more, with feeling, “Fuck.”
The others have similar reactions, and the manager looks like he’s having an aneurism. “I’m going to go lie down,” he says slowly, his eyes never leaving Jungkook’s dejected form. “And when I come back, I will pray that this was just some sort of fever dream.”
They all watch him go, and while Yoongi doesn’t blame him, that also still leaves them with Jungkook…as a deer.
“He’s a reindeer,” Hoseok says helpfully, thumb swiping along the screen of his phone. “A really…weird one. They don’t usually come in this color, and I can’t figure out why he doesn’t have antlers.”
“That’s because he’s a baby,” Taehyung insists.
In a sudden show of strength, Jungkook surges up and head-butts Taehyung right in the middle of his chest. He falls over and Jungkook lands on top of him. Neither seems to be able to move.
“That was rude,” Taehyung complains. “And I’m not wrong. You’re definitely a baby deer. Wow, your fur is soft.” He starts stroking Jungkook’s head and Jungkook glowers at him for a moment before giving in to the petting and rocking his head a little against Taehyung’s hand.
“Maybe I should go lie down too,” Seokjin whispers. His face is paler than Yoongi’s and he looks like he might actually pass out.
Jimin latches himself onto Seokjin’s arm and demands, “Hyung, you can’t leave! Someone has to fix Kookie.”
“We don’t even know how he fucking ended up like this in the first place,” Yoongi points out, because if no one else is going to take this seriously then he’ll have to.
“Maybe he ate something weird,” Hoseok suggests. “Hey Jungkook, have you been eating food out of unsealed packages again? You never know what the fans might have put in their home cooking.”
Namjoon swats him and then resumes hunching into the sofa like maybe it’ll make him disappear. Yoongi knows that Namjoon hates dealing with shit like this. Like that time last year that Hoseok was a girl for two weeks and would not stop attempting to give their impressionable maknae lap dances and they finally had to ban him from going within five feet of Jungkook because the kid looked like he was going to spontaneously combust.
“Jungkook and I have eaten all the same things for the last two days,” Taehyung pipes up helpfully. He’s moved on to petting Jungkook’s neck. He could probably get up if he wanted, but he doesn’t seem inclined to. Yoongi doesn’t worry about it.
Jimin snorts. “You mean you’ve stolen Jungkook’s food every time he was eating,” he corrects.
Taehyung shrugs, his sweater hitching up his stomach a little and baring a sliver of caramel skin. “Same thing, different words,” he mutters.
“So what are we actually going to do about this?” Hoseok asks. His face is pained, and Yoongi realizes why in the next moment, when he adds, “This is significantly worse than being a girl.”
“Oh yeah,” Jimin says, whipping around to look at Hoseok. “What did we do when you turned into a girl?”
Hoseok stares him down, his face tired and dead serious. They’re all tired. This came at the worst possible time. They’ve been doing award shows and end-of-the-year music programs almost nonstop, and all of them are pretty much burnt out. It’s been a good year, but that doesn’t mean they’re not exhausted. “We waited,” Hoseok says.
But Hoseok as a girl they could cover up with the right clothes and makeup, and no one even noticed that anything was weird (except for one or two fans who commented that Hoseok seemed much softer, that he spoke more quietly for a time). Jungkook can’t dance as a deer. He certainly can’t sing. He can’t even talk or walk, and what are they going to feed him? How is he going to function? What happens when he needs to go to the bathroom?
“You were a girl for two weeks,” Seokjin whispers, and they all go silent, just staring at Jungkook.
Their golden maknae only notices that something is wrong when Taehyung’s hand on his neck stills, and he looks around at all of them and then makes that sad mooing noise again.
“Hey,” Taehyung tells him, drawing his attention, those big brown eyes even bigger and browner in this body and focused solely on Taehyung. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Jungkook makes an even sadder noise and tries to tuck his head into Taehyung’s neck, huffing when he doesn’t fit the way he’s supposed to. Taehyung’s hair gets in his nostril and it makes him sneeze, and deer snot goes everywhere.
“Ew,” Taehyung mutters.
Yoongi buries his face in his hands and prays that it doesn’t take Jungkook long to change back.
They’re dealing with it. Jungkook can barely walk still, wobbling around on unsteady, unreliably skinny legs, and he needs help with everything. They’ve been feeding him vegetables mostly, leafy greens and mushrooms because that’s what the internet said, and he devours carrots the way he devoured pizza as a human.
Taehyung is the only one who seems completely unfazed by this entire situation. He volunteered to help Jungkook when he needs to go to the bathroom, and god help him but Yoongi opted not to ask how. Taehyung is the person Jungkook goes to first for cuddles, for help, and he’s always calmest when Taehyung’s hands are somewhere on his body.
Yoongi knows that Jungkook has to be way more freaked by this than any of the rest of them are, and if there was anything that he could do about it he would. As it stands, he’s just glad they’ve managed to keep Jungkook alive for the last two days.
Taehyung’s yell is the only warning Yoongi gets, and it’s not enough. Even the clatter of hooves across the hardwood floor (and their landlady is going to be so pissed when she finds out how bad Jungkook has damaged the finish) isn’t far enough in advance for Yoongi to do anything more than turn sluggishly.
He’s at exactly the right angle when Jungkook bowls him over, four sliding hoofs against too slick a surface, too uncoordinated to be moving so fast, that the side of his head meets the doorframe and the world briefly goes gray at the edges.
“Oh my god, hyung, are you okay?”
Yoongi doesn’t remember how he ended up on the floor, but he’s slumped there now, sort of half-sitting up and feeling slightly sick.
Jungkook, naked as the day he was born, kneels in front of Yoongi, cradling his cheeks and trying to brush his hair out of the way so he can see Yoongi’s eyes. “Yoongi-hyung? Talk to me.”
Yoongi’s hand lifts slower than he tells it to and pokes Jungkook’s unfairly rock-hard chest. “Brat,” he grunts. “You had to pick after you ran me over to change back, didn’t you?”
“You’re bleeding,” Jungkook says. He holds his fingers up in front of Yoongi’s face to demonstrate, the tips of them smeared red. They’re hard to focus on and Yoongi can’t tell if that’s because they’re too close or because of the head injury.
“And you’re naked,” Yoongi retorts, jabbing again at Jungkook’s chest.
Jungkook flushes red, but his eyes are still panicked.
“I’m fine, kid,” Yoongi tells him, even though he’s pretty sure that he’s either going to pass out or throw up in a minute here. “You might want to put on some clothes and go get the manager, though.”
Jungkook makes a high distressed noise and starts to get up, but before he’s gotten far Namjoon and Seokjin are already there, carefully helping Yoongi up and calling for their manager to take him to the hospital.
Taehyung swoops in and tugs Jungkook away, presumably to get him clothed. Yoongi quickly loses sight of them down the hall and is forced to focus on other things as Namjoon asks what happened and Seokjin starts helping him with his shoes.
They keep him talking in the car all the way to the hospital even though Yoongi keeps insisting that he’s fine, he’s not dying, will they please stop hovering?
The result is that Jungkook gets to return to performing as if he’d never been gone, just in time for Yoongi to be forced to rest for a week.
After he gets back from the hospital and Seokjin tucks him into bed like he’s five years old, Yoongi’s door opens and Jungkook tiptoes in.
“What do you need, kid,” Yoongi croaks. The injury isn’t even that bad but they gave him some strong-ass pain meds at the hospital anyway, and now he’s all kind of…floaty. It’s weird and he doesn’t like it and he didn’t appreciate Seokjin treating him like a child but he does kind of want to sleep until he feels normal again.
Jungkook freezes, the whites of his eyes glowing in the dim light of Yoongi’s bedside lamp like the deer that he isn’t, and he whispers, “Hey, hyung.”
Yoongi waits. His pillows are very soft, like a cloud almost, and if Jungkook doesn’t say what he needs to say soon Yoongi isn’t going to hear it.
“I’m really sorry,” Jungkook finally mutters, unfreezing and dropping down on the edge of Yoongi’s bed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Kid,” Yoongi says, and he reaches for something—Jungkook’s arm, or whatever—and ends up with his hand, and just resigns himself to it and laces their fingers together. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t sign up for this fucking weird shit.”
“Still, I—if I hadn’t been running—“
Yoongi would shake his head but he knows it’ll just hurt, so he settles for punching Jungkook with their entwined hands instead. “You’re being stupid. I could’ve run into that doorframe on my own just as easily.”
Jungkook tries to protest again, but Yoongi makes a hushing noise.
“If you’re gonna stay in here, you have to be quiet. I wanna sleep,” Yoongi mumbles. He figures that’ll make Jungkook leave, but instead he just squeezes Yoongi’s hand tighter and stays where he is. Whatever. As long as Yoongi gets to sleep, he doesn’t really care right now.
They’re okay. This has been the best year of their lives and Yoongi won’t let his injury or the fact that Jungkook was a reindeer for two days ruin that. He’s disappointed that he’ll be missing some performances, but to be honest he’s kind of looking forward to getting to skip practice for a little while. Maybe he’ll sit in the practice room and heckle the others while they work.
Or maybe, he thinks, feeling Jungkook shift and then lay down beside him, curling his big body around Yoongi’s shorter frame, he’ll just take the time to be thankful for the things they’ve got, the things they’ve accomplished this year, and the places that they’re going to go. Even if he can’t practice or perform right now, he can still do his best to help the others continue to improve.
They’re in this together, no matter what crazy shit happens to them. They’re Bangtan Sonyeondan. That’s enough.