“please help me.” | trace&pulse
the tiny voice surprises him.
namjoon freezes-- and shit, he knows that voice, it’s a familiar one. they may not necessarily be friends, acquaintances at best-- but they work together more often than not, and he’s given taehyun drinks under the counter more than once as a thanks for keeping things calm on the nights he played. but their relationship never surpassed professional, even if taehyun had hit on him more than once, which namjoon had always-- politely-- turned down.
but he was familiar enough that namjoon recognized his voice, even if it was behind the building of his workplace, in the process of locking the place up. it was small, but not far off-- and he finishes clicking the key in place before strolling around the garbage can to investigate, stomach rolling with the beginnings of apprehension.
and what he sees-- well, it’s certainly a sight.
“shit, when the hell was the last time you fed?” he exhales sharply-- the dj looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, slumped next to the trash can, and namjoon immediately kneels. “it’s real rare for me to see you like this, i thought you went home with someone earlier-- hookup gone wrong, i’m guessing?” a sigh. “i just locked up shop--... where’s your apartment, i’ll call a cab and get you home, yeah?” he’d have to text yoongi to let him know that he was going to be late, but he wasn’t just going to leave taehyun here, (blood-)starved and clearly mildly incapacitated.
he considered the power stabilizers he always carried with him, offering them to taehyun. but he knew the dj had just gotten out of detainment, so he probably had his own supply-- but still. just one glance at taehyun gave namjoon all the assurance he needed to know that the guy hadn’t had any blood in awhile, for whatever his reasoning might be.
the idea of offering his own blood was terrifying, but he considered that, too. maybe. (but first off, he needed to get taehyun off of the grimy concrete.)
