sevensexynoses

✨MASTERLIST✨

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want to come over and hang out? we can watch a movie :D

It’s the first thing Hoseok texts Yoongi when he hears it start to rain outside. He knows there’s a fairly big storm forecasted to roll in soon, and it’s been dreary all day, but now that it’s actually raining and the sky is growing dark, Hoseok can’t help thinking instantly about his friend.   

Hoseok hates to be stuck inside due to the weather, but it’s Yoongi’s favorite thing. He’s not even expecting Yoongi to answer his text, because Yoongi would love nothing more than to chill at home by himself on a Friday night with the excuse of the rain to keep him inside. He can picture Yoongi already, sitting by the window and listening to the rain while he reads a book.

He’s pleasantly surprised when Yoongi texts him back less than five minutes later.

Maybe. I probably shouldn’t though, I think I’m getting sick.

Hoseok frowns and starts typing, 

oh no!!! are you okay?

you can still come, I totally don’t mind

or do you want me to come over there instead?

do you need me to get you anything at the store? 

After that, it takes Yoongi a longer time to respond. Hoseok feels a weirdly strong sense of concern, but it’s just because it’s unusual that Yoongi’s sick. Hoseok can’t even remember the last time that happened. 

Just when he considers calling Yoongi, his phone buzzes.

No, I can come to you, if you really don’t mind.

It takes about fifteen minutes for Yoongi to get there, and Hoseok uses the time to set up the couch with plenty of comfy pillows and blankets and brew a pot of tea. He’s not really sure what Yoongi is sick with, so he still gathers their usual assortment of snacks they like during movie nights too.

He hears a knock on his front door, and then a second later it opens and Yoongi comes inside. He leans his dripping umbrella against the wall, and bends down to take his shoes off. They’re soaking wet, as are the bottom of his pants, and his rain jacket is dripping all over the floor of the entryway. 

“It’s really coming down out there,” Hoseok comments, peering out the window. He turns to Yoongi, who nods and then lifts his arm up to his face.

“hsch-eh! hshch’iew! Ugh, excuse me,” Yoongi mumbles, sniffling a little. 

He pulls off his hood and unzips his jacket, and Hoseok can see that he’s shivering. Even though he’s wearing the coat, his face is wet and so is most of his hair.  

“Bless you. Go change into some dry clothes,” Hoseok instructs. “And if you need anything, there’s plenty of medicine in the cabinet in the bathroom. Tissues, too.” 

Yoongi gives an uncharacteristically shy smile and goes to change, sniffling as he makes his way down the hall.

When he comes out, he’s wearing a pair of Hoseok’s sweatpants and a sweatshirt of his own he’d left there at some point, and he’s sneezing up a storm, stopping every few steps to sneeze into the crook of his arm. 

“hrrshsh-eh! ksh’shuh!”

“Bless you!” Hoseok says, but Yoongi doesn’t even hear him, not even close to being done sneezing. 

“hh-ktsch-uh! hh-hh-hshch’uh! S-sorry…hshch’iew! hrrshsh-eh!”

Hoseok blinks in shock. He’s never heard Yoongi sneeze so much before. “Bless you!” He exclaims, nudging Yoongi in the direction of the couch. “Sounds like you’ve definitely caught a cold.” He’s worried, and the worry grows exponentially with each sneeze.

“ksh’shuh! hh-ktsch!” 

“Bless you. Sit down, there are plenty of blankets on the couch. I boiled water for tea, I’ll be right back.” 

As he makes his way into the kitchen, he hears Yoongi sneeze twice more. He never noticed before today that Yoongi sneezes in twos, and he finds himself thinking that it’s kind of cute.

When he returns to the living room with two mugs of tea, Yoongi is sitting on the couch, curled up under a blanket and sneezing into his sleeve yet again. 

“hh-hh-hshch! hsch-eh!” 

“Bless you. Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to watch a movie if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“I’m okay,” Yoongi replies quickly, chuckling softly even as a blush appears on his cheeks. “It’s just a cold. I did take some of your medicine, though. Thank you.”  

“Of course. Take as much as you need. Or, I guess, as much as recommended.” 

They both laugh, and Hoseok turns on the TV. He sits down on the opposite end of the couch, and he’s surprised when Yoongi moves over so he’s sitting right next to Hoseok, their shoulders touching. Grinning to himself, he glances over and tries not to be noticeable as he observes Yoongi up close, his smile faltering a little when he sees that he doesn’t look very well at all.  

There are dark circles under the older man’s eyes like he hasn’t been sleeping well, his lips are dry and cracked, and Hoseok gets a good look at how red his nose is for just a second before Yoongi is covering it with his hand, inhaling sharply and– 

“hrRSHSH-eh! HSHCH-eh!”

“Bless you!” Hoseok grabs another blanket from the back of the couch and spreads it out over both of their laps, still a little surprised at how close Yoongi is sitting. Yoongi isn’t exactly one for physical affection– or any kind of physical touch, really– but he pulls his feet up onto the couch once the blanket is over him, knees bending as he leans against Hoseok’s side even more.

He’s quiet after that, slumping more heavily against Hoseok as they watch the movie. Less than ten minutes in, Hoseok notices something; little by little, Yoongi shifts further over, until his head is resting on Hoseok’s shoulder, his hair brushing against his neck. 

Hoseok stays very still as he processes the surprising unfolding of events. He wonders if it’s just because Yoongi is so tired– he also briefly wonders if Yoongi has a fever or something, because it’s so unexpected. 

And then, Yoongi pulls one arm out of the blanket, lifts his fist to his nose to rub briefly, and when he puts his hand down he lets it rest so that it’s almost in Hoseok’s lap instead of his own, his fingers splayed out over Hoseok’s blanket-covered thigh. 

Hoseok tries very hard to resist the urge to grab Yoongi’s hand, or to put his arm around the older man’s shoulders, grinning to himself the entire time. He can’t help being excited at the fact that Yoongi trusts him enough to be so close. 

Suddenly, Yoongi pulls away a little, lifting his head and turning away from Hoseok to sneeze. “hh-KTSHCH-uh! HSHCH’uh! Excuse me,” he mumbles, sniffling afterward and rubbing his nose with his knuckles. 

“Let me go grab a box of tissues,” Hoseok says as he listens to Yoongi sniffle. 

He’s not sure if Yoongi is reluctant to let him up, or if that’s just in his head, but Yoongi pauses for a moment before he does, sitting up slowly and barely just enough to let Hoseok stand up. 

As soon as he returns with tissues and sits down, Yoongi burrows against his side, spreading the blanket back out over their laps and then wrapping his arm around Hoseok’s waist. 

Hoseok beams.

He keeps the tissues in his lap. He’s not really sure how he senses it– maybe Yoongi sniffles softly, or his body tenses a little– but Hoseok has a sudden thought to pull a couple of tissues from the box. He passes them to Yoongi at the same exact time that Yoongi reaches over for them.

“Th-thank you,” Yoongi gasps before letting out a particularly wet-sounding pair of sneezes. “HSHCH’iew! hrrshsh-eh!”

“Bless you,” Hoseok murmurs, pulling a few more tissues from the box and passing them over. “Are you okay?” 

“KSHshuh! hrrshsh-iew!” 

With a harsh sniffle, Yoongi nods, but then he sneezes twice more and groans afterward, his face flushing. 

“Bless you! Your poor thing.”

Yoongi blows his nose, mumbling an apology that Hoseok brushes off. Once Yoongi’s nose seems to settle, they go back to watching the movie, and a couple of minutes later Hoseok feels eyes on him. He glances down to see Yoongi looking up at him.

“Sorry I’m so boring tonight,” he whispers as soon as Hoseok looks at him. “Thank you for still wanting to hang out with me.”

“Of course,” Hoseok replies. “I love hanging out with you.”

Yoongi smiles, then settles back against him, cheek against his shoulder. 

Hoseok isn’t really thinking when he reaches over a few minutes later and starts to rub Yoongi’s back. He feels Yoongi tense beneath his hand. He pulls away, but Yoongi makes a small, congested sound and shifts closer under the blanket.

“Keep going?” He asks sleepily, mumbling the words against Hoseok’s neck. 

Hoseok does not have to be told twice. He focuses on rubbing Yoongi’s back, completely ignoring the movie now in favor of bringing his friend comfort, and when Yoongi tenses again not five minutes later, he’s startled by Yoongi sneezing softly. 

“hsch-eh!” Yoongi barely gets a hand to his face in time to cover the sneeze, and Hoseok pauses, waiting for the second one.  A second sneeze doesn’t come, though, and he cranes his neck a little to check on Yoongi when he sits up halfway; he’s taking tiny little breaths, chest moving up and down rapidly. Hoseok bites back a smile at the way his nose scrunches up. It feels a little silly, sitting and waiting for Yoongi to sneeze, but before he can think about it too much longer it finally comes– 

“hshch’iew!”

“Oh, bless you,” Hoseok coos, tugging Yoongi back against his side. His heart flutters when Yoongi comes easily, snuggles up against him like he does it all the time.

As the movie plays on, Yoongi starts to slump further down, like his head is too heavy to keep upright. Soon, he’s sliding down until his head is in Hoseok’s lap. Hoseok keeps rubbing his back, smiling when Yoongi makes an unintentionally cute little snorting noise that turns into a yawn. 

By the time the movie is done, Yoongi is sound asleep. Hoseok doesn’t want to wake him. He looks so tired and sick, and so vulnerable resting his head in Hoseok’s lap, and he can’t bear the thought of breaking the peaceful atmosphere surrounding them. Outside, the rain falls harder than ever, but it feels cozy inside, like they’re in their own little world.

Hoseok cues up another movie and settles in, knowing he might be stuck on the couch for a while, because there is no way he’s going to make Yoongi move until he does it on his own accord. 

And when Yoongi coughs himself awake halfway through the second movie, Hoseok just keeps rubbing his back and holding him close and soaking up the way Yoongi leans purposefully into his touch, glancing up at him with a shy, grateful smile every so often in a way that makes Hoseok melt. 

Hoseok is looking down at his phone when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He glances up briefly, gives a smile, then looks back down at his phone. 

Time for makeup. It's the best time to check through his emails, when he’s already stuck sitting down. It makes it a little easier for the person doing his makeup if he doesn’t talk and move around throughout the process, which is his natural state of being. So, boring emails it is, until he usually gives up and closes his eyes and just tries to rest through it instead.

Today, he gets sidetracked by social media, and he’s scrolling through picture posts when he’s caught off guard by a gentle swipe of a makeup brush right across one side of his nose. 

Ohh, it tickles. It tickles badly. Hoseok has always had a sensitive nose. All it takes is one little touch, and everyone knows it, knows that the slightest brush of a fingertip against his septum can make his nose twitch, that a tap to the tip of his nose makes his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitch, that the edge of a tissue hovering beneath his nostrils only needs to gently graze the skin to be ticklish enough to make his nose quiver.  

That a makeup brush can set him off sneezing within seconds.  

Combine the prickly bristles of a brush and the itchy powder that the makeup artists use and it’s like striking a match to light a fuse– once the spark ignites it, there is no turning back. A sneeze is inevitable. It’s just a matter of how long the fuse is, how long he can hold back the explosion that’s coming. 

“Hh-! hhH!” 

Hoseok has to open his mouth to let air in– he doesn’t dare try to take any air in through his nose, not with the fine powder that he can see swirling in the air in front of him. He makes an audible sound, almost like a gasp, and feels his face heat up.

His eyes are watering almost immediately as he looks up at his reflection in the mirror, and that’s when he realizes that he’s never seen the person doing his makeup before. They’re new, possibly, which means they might not know about how sensitive his nose is.

It explains why, a moment later, they hold the powder level with his face and dab the brush into it several times, sending a puff of the substance into the air. 

“Oh–! Khh!” 

Hoseok jerks away, a ticklish cough bursting out. He can feel the powder filling his mouth and nose, gritty and coating every surface it can stick to.  

Hoseok isn’t really sure why he decides to try to hold the sneeze back, except that he feels a rush of embarrassment at being so affected in front of someone who doesn’t know how sensitive he is. 

He forcefully pushes air out of his nose, a half-snort that makes his face heat up even more, and then holds his breath.

The makeup artist, completely oblivious to his dilemma, stirs up a bit more powder and then begins applying it to the tip of his nose. 

“hhh..hihh! hh-hhHHH…”

He can’t help the tiny little sounds he makes in reaction, more breathy gasps and a sound almost like a whimper that finally catches the attention of the makeup artist.

They look Hoseok in the eye.

“Sorry,” Hoseok murmurs, chancing a sniffle. He can feel the burning, ticklish sensation on the inside of his nose, all the way to the back of his sinuses.

The makeup artist, frowning in confusion, drops their gaze and picks up the brush again. 

Hoseok grips the armrests of his chair so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white.

The next swipe of his brush is just under his nose, across his upper lip, catching his left nostril and then his right as it passes beneath his nose, and Hoseok’s eyes slam shut on reflex.

“Huhh! uhHHH–!” He sucks in a mighty breath and realizes there’s no holding anything back now. “Khht–” He wrenches away, twisting to the side just in time for– “hhhHAATCH’shiii!” 

“Oh!” The makeup artist lets out a startled laugh. “Bless you."  

But then, they pick up the brush and go right back in to work, and it’s not enough time for Hoseok to compose himself, not enough time to attempt to sniff back the remaining tickle in his nose. Through watering eyes, he watches the bristles of the brush swipe back and forth over the powdery substance, swish swish swish, and he doesn’t know if the next sneeze starts before or after the makeup artist begins applying it to his face again. 

“hhhHHH-AASHCH!”

Wrenching his eyes open, Hoseok is met with the sight of the makeup brush hovering just in front of his nose. He goes nearly cross-eyed looking at it, eyelashes fluttering as the next sharp tickle overtakes him– there’s powder swirling in the air, illuminated in the bright lights of the mirrors. 

“Plea-uhhh…w-wait a–”

The makeup artist finally, mercifully, pulls the brush away.

It’s too late. Hoseok’s eyes roll upward.

“huh-SHIII! ahhh’HSHHshoo!”

“Hobi-hyung?”

“HATCHSH!”

He feels someone spin his chair around.

“hatch-shee! HHH-itchsh! hhATCHSH!”

There’s a hand rubbing his back, and he squints one eye open to see Jimin standing in front of him. 

“Blow your nose,” Jimin instructs, holding out a handful of tissues. “No rubbing.”  

He does, sneezing halfway through, and when he’s done he’s panting heavily. Jimin leans in, using a fresh tissue to dab gently at the corners of his eyes where tears are leaking out. 

“Any more coming?” Jimin asks softly. 

Thinking about whether or not there are any more sneezes coming makes Hoseok’s nose itch with the need to sneeze again. Or more accurately, the feeling never really went away. He accepts another tissue from Jimin and carefully holds it to his nose, just touching enough skin to catch the spray. 

“HHH-itchsh!”

“Okay. One more blow for me,” Jimin says, switching out his used tissue for a clean one.

Hoseok blows his nose and tries not to pout at how much of the makeup artist’s work he’s undone by now. Sniffles tentatively, he crumples up the tissue and tosses it into the pile with the others.

“Five minutes to standby!” 

Jimin turns back to Hoseok with a tube of something in his hands. He untwists the cap and puts some of the liquidy substance on the tip of his ring finger. “Close your eyes,” he says, and Hoseok does. A second later he feels Jimin dabbing something beneath his left eye, then his right. 

When he opens his eyes, he sees that Taehyung and Jungkook are now standing in front of him too. They’re both intently watching Jimin work.

“Do his nose last,” Taehyung instructs. “I think we just need to redo this side of his eyeliner and then he should be good to go.”

Jungkook hands him eyeliner and nods. “Three minutes to go. We’ve got this.” 

Taehyung leans in. “Close your eyes for a sec?”

Hoseok closes his eyes and sniffles. He feels like he could sneeze another half a dozen times or so, but for some reason the makanes hovering around him and helping fix his makeup is distracting enough that it's not such an urgent need all of a sudden. 

After Taehyung is done with his eyeliner, Jungkook hands him yet another tissue. “If you have to sneeze, go ahead. Just don’t rub your nose and don’t scrunch up your face too much, because the eyeliner is still drying.”

Hoseok nods obediently and Jimin leans in with more of the liquid makeup, which Hoseok now recognizes as concealer. He’s careful as he applies it, not taking longer than necessary and keeping his touch firm enough that it’s not too ticklish against his nose.

Hoseok still has to sneeze anyway, and he waves Jimin off with a shaky warning. “Hh-hold-on– hhhAAHSH!” 

He sniffs hard, wiggles his nose back and forth, and sighs. “Okay. I think that was the last one.”

“Okay,” Jimin says, capping the concealer and wiping his fingertip off on a tissue. “Stage ready. You good, Hobi-hyung?”

Hoseok slumps back in his chair, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, composing himself and making sure he’s not going to burst into a fit of sneezes the second they get on stage. He opens his eyes, sits up, and nods.

“Ready. Thank you.”

Jungkook grins and Taehyung claps him on the shoulder. 

“I’m so stuffed up,” Jungkook complains. “I can’t breathe.”

Next to him, Jimin squirms. He already has his arm around Jungkook, and now his grip tightens. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

“Hnghh.” 

“My poor baby.”

“Soooo stuffy.”

Jimin chuckles. “You have a lot to say about it, hmm?”

Jungkook tries to sniffle. He lifts his head up to look into Jimin's eyes. “Yeah. Just want…”

Jimin can feel his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest. “Do you…do you want me to help?” he whispers, unable to meet Jungkook’s gaze. 

Jungkook nods and noses along Jimin’s throat. 

“Fuck,” Jimin shivers. “Are you sure?”

Again, Jungkook nods.

When Jimin sits up, Jungkook follows, tugging the blanket up to his chest and leaning back against the headboard.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Jimin murmurs under his breath, reaching for a pillow. He tucks it between Jungkook’s head and the headboard. “You’re sure?”

“Super sure.”

Jimin hardly knows what to do with himself. He grabs the box of tissues from the nightstand and then settles in front of Jungkook on his knees. After a second, he seems to change his mind, and climbs into Jungkook’s lap instead, straddling his hips over the blanket. 

Jungkook tilts his head back, offering himself up. “Whatever you want to do,” he says. “As long as I can breathe afterward.” 

The tissue trembles in Jimin’s hand as he twists one of the corners into a point. Jungkook’s nostrils are red, and they flare out wide as Jimin guides the tissue up to his right nostril. 

Jungkook reaches up and rubs his nose preemptively, already thinking about the ticklish touch. “Not too much teasing,” he requests, his voice thick with congestion. “Will you just…go deep?” 

“Of course.” Jimin leans forward and presses a kiss to the very tip of his nose. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t last long.” 

An image flashes through Jimin’s mind– the fine point of the tissue brushing against Jungkook’s nostrils, tickling just the very edges until Jungkook is writhing beneath him, desperate to sneeze– but he shoves those thoughts away for when Jungkook isn’t suffering from a cold.

“Ready?” Jimin asks, and then pushes the tissue up into Jungkook’s nostril.

Jungkook tenses immediately, his eyes flying wide open. His lips part, his breath catching, but it’s almost like he’s frozen there, too startled to do anything but wait.

Jimin wiggles the tissue around, pushing it in a little deeper. After just a few more seconds, Jungkook’s eyes start to roll up, and he sucks in a shuddering inhale.

“uhh–! hhHHH–! UHHH’shoo!” 

As soon as the first sneeze explodes out of him, Jimin pulls the tissue out and slides his hand behind Jungkook’s head. Even though the pillow is there, they’ve had too many close calls with the headboard.

With his other hand, he plucks two tissues from the box and holds them up to Jungkook’s nose.

“HH-ESH’oo! HXSH’shoo!” 

“Bless you,” Jimin murmurs, keeping the tissues cupped over Jungkook’s nose. He can feel the damp heat through them, and knows two tissues isn’t nearly enough for what’s coming.

“UHHH’shoo! uhh’SHOO! HXSH’shoo!” 

“Bless youuu. There you go, get it all out, baby.”

“huhHH–! uhhh! hghhh…”

“Oh no,” Jimin chuckles, watching a tear slide down Jungkook’s cheek. “Did they get stuck?”

Jungkook tries to nod, but his breath hitches violently and he looks up towards the ceiling. Another tear falls down his face.

As quickly as he can, Jimin grabs a couple more tissues and swaps them out, wiping Jungkook’s nose and upper lip. Then he grabs two more and folds them neatly around Jugkook’s flaring nostrils.

“Blow.”

Jungkook blows out a breath through his mouth, inhales, and then empties his sinuses into the tissues.

“Good job,” Jimin praises, wiping Jungkook’s nose again. “I’m going to do the other side now. Are you doing okay?”

Jungkook nods and swipes at his watering eyes. “It really tickled,” he whines, sniffling.

“Just a little more of that,” Jimin promises. “And try not to sniff right now, okay?”

As soon as Jimin twists another tissue into a sharp point, he inserts it into Jungkook’s left nostril. He pushes it in deep and starts wiggling it around, watching as Jungkook’s face contorts immediately.

“Ohh,” Jungkook gasps, his chest expanding with hitching breaths. “Uhhh–!”

Jimin twists his wrist back and forth, sliding the tissue just a little farther in. At the same time, he reaches for a few tissues, readying them with his other hand. Just as Jungkook’s breath hitches again, he holds the handful of tissues up, close enough to catch most of the spray.

“hhh-ESHH! uhh’SHOO! hngxsh!”

“Bless you. Just a few more.”

“HXSH’shoo! hnghh…uhh’SHOO! UHHH’shoo!”

“There we go!” Jimin pulls the tissue out of Jungkook’s nostril. His hand is covered in snot now, but he uses a clean tissue to wipe as much of it off as he can.  

“Here, blow again.”

Jungkook obeys, blowing his nose into another tissue that Jimin holds for him. Jimin switches it out twice more, until Jungkook seems to have cleared most of the congestion out. 

By the time he’s done, they’re both out of breath.

“I’m going to tuck you back into bed,” Jimin pants, subtly adjusting himself through his underwear. “Do you think you’ll be able to fall asleep now, sweetie?”  

“What about…” Jungkook tries to reach for Jimin’s waist, but he feels like his arms aren’t quite working right.

“No no no,” Jimin shakes his head. “You’re going to sleep. I will take care of that later.” 

Jungkook’s face scrunches up, but he’s too sleepy to truly protest. 

“Tomorrow…” he murmurs, but he trails off before he can finish his sentence. 

“Tomorrow, you will continue to rest, so you can recover.” Jimin kisses Jungkook’s forehead. “Sleep well, my love.” 

Jimin slowly eases himself out of the bed, making sure he’s quiet so Jungkook can fall asleep right away. He gathers up all of the used tissues, and turns around to see Taehyung standing in the doorway. 

top choices:

1. Crash Out (sickie Namjoon)

2. Worried sick (sickie Yoongi)

3. Forced to care for a rival (sickie Taehyung)

5. “Stop whining, you’re fine,” (They’re not fine) (sickie Jimin)

7. Sick on a date (sickie Jimin)

9. Sick in a snowstorm (sickie Jimin)

11. Wrapped in blankets (sickie Jimin)

12. Sick in front of a partner for the first time (sickie Jimin)

13. A usually shy pet begins to curl up to the sick character more (sickie Yoongi)

16. Sick while camping (sickie Hoseok or Yoongi)

17. Caregiver burn out (sickie Seokjin)

24. “My boss won’t let me take a sick day.” (sickie Hoseok or Yoongi)

25. Out of medicine (sickie Hoseok)

28. Dizzy (sickie Jimin)

Alt 4. Flowers (sickie Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Seokjin)

maybes:

6. Doctor visit (sickie Jimin)

10. “Stop getting out of bed!” (sickie Seokjin)

18. Character gets spoiled by their caregiver (sickie Jungkook)

19. “I can’t afford to go to the doctor,” (sickie Jimin)

20. Parenting while sick (sickie Seokjin)

27. Work from home day (sickie Namjoon, Yoongi)

29. “You made the soup wrong!” (sickie Seokjin)

30. Mental health day (sickie Yoongi)

Alt 1. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me!” (Loves being dotted on) (that’s supposed to be doted on, right? idk that’s how they spelled it) (sickie Jimin or Jungkook)

Alt 2. Pillow fort (sickie Jimin, Jungkook or Taehyung)

Alt 3. “I’m bored.” “You wouldn’t be bored if you took a damn nap,” (sickie Jungkook)

Alt 5. Tucked into bed (sickie Jimin)

probably won't write:

4. Medical restraints (sickie Taehyung)

8. “I can’t keep anything down,” (sickie Hoseok, Jimin, or Jungkook)

14. Infected wound (sickie Jimin or Taehyung)

15. Rehab after a severe illness (sickie Seokjin)

21. Gaunt face (sickie Yoongi)

22. Carnival food poisoning (sickie Taehyung)

23. X-Ray (sickie Jimin)

It’s a bit farther from home than he usually goes, and in a slightly nicer neighborhood than where he lives, and it’s refreshing to see that the sidewalks are clean outside and the lightbulbs aren’t half burnt out inside. 

The silly thing is, Jimin hates alcohol. He doesn’t even know why he’s here. Well…he knows, but he doesn’t want to think about why he’s here. He doesn’t want to think about why he’s so fucking sad he feels empty, why he’s intoxicated because he chugged three beers already just to feel emptier, why he’s letting the loneliness lead him to some upscale bar in some upscale neighborhood because now he wants to feel something other than the emptiness. 

Not a single soul pays attention to him as he makes his way to the bar and slides onto a stool at the very end of the counter. While he waits for a bartender to come over, he scans the room and sighs. Everyone is here in pairs or more. No one else is alone. No one else is fucking pathetic like he is.

“Looking for love?” a voice behind the bar says.

“Nah. Fuck love,” Jimin responds without thinking, and then he turns in his seat and looks up to meet the gaze of hottest man he’s ever seen in his entire life. 

Large, sparkling eyes capture his attention first, but the influence of the alcohol in his system has his gaze moving quickly down to admire the man’s heavily tattooed biceps, deliciously on display thanks to a skin-tight light gray tank top. He openly stares at the way the man’s shirt shows off well defined pecs and hugs his slim waist, and when he drags his eyes back up he spots piercings– so many piercings– on his ears, his nose, his eyebrow, his lip– 

“Sorry,” he says belatedly, not knowing if seconds or hours have passed.

The bartender raises an eyebrow, something unreadable on his face, and then he turns around and grabs a couple of bottles from a shelf above him. Jimin takes the opportunity to admire his broad, muscular back. When the bartender turns around again, he sets a shot glass of clear liquid in front of Jimin, holding up a second shot for himself, something a pretty amber color.

“Don’t worry. I fully agree with you,” the man says, tipping his shot back so fast Jimin thinks he’s imagining him drinking it at all. “Fuck love. Who needs it, anyway?” He smirks at Jimin and waits until he drinks the shot– the alcohol burns, sears his throat as it goes down, and he can’t stop himself from grimacing in disgust. The bartender continues with a little laugh that gives Jimin butterflies, “I’d rather have good whiskey and really, really good sex over love any day.” 

Jimin’s face heats up, on fire, burning. His tongue feels too big in his mouth. It doesn’t stop his reply.

“Why didn’t you give me the good whiskey at least?” He fights the urge to stick out his tongue at the taste of whatever it was in the shot glass. “What was that, tequila?”

The bartender snorts. He considers Jimin with a smirk, and then leaves for a moment, returning with a glass of water the Jimin gulps down greedily. The other man has that look in his eyes again, something sinful, something wanting. He leans in so close that their noses are nearly touching, and when he speaks Jimin can smell the whiskey on his breath. 

“How about I give you really good sex instead?” 

Out behind the bar, at 1am under a flickering streetlight, the bartender pushes Jimin up against the brick wall and captures his lips with his own, warm and demanding and skilled in a way that Jimin has never experienced before. The tattooed man is so much taller, so much stronger than him, and it makes Jimin weak in the knees. 

He wants to be fucked so badly by this man he’s just met– he’d been basically promised it, after all– but when the bartender whispers in Jimin’s ear that this is just a warmup, that there can be more later if he wants, Jimin nods eagerly and watches him drop to his knees.

“What’s your name, pretty thing?” He asks as he undoes Jimin’s pants. 

“Jimin,” he breathes out, voice shaky. “I’m Jimin.” 

“Jimin,” he murmurs, breath hot against Jimin’s erection. “Can I touch you, Jimin?”

Yes, yes, yes-yes-yes– he doesn’t realize that he’s panting the word, over and over like some desperate, needy fucking loser, but then the bartender’s mouth is enveloping him completely, a smirk on his face despite the fact that he’s in the middle of sucking Jimin off.

Jimin looks down and watches the way the man’s lip piercings catch the streetlight as his bobs his head up and down on his cock, the way the stud in his nose glints when his nostrils flare with each inhale through his nose, and yeah, there’s a tongue piercing too, apparently, and fuck– 

He comes embarrassingly fast, heat scorching through his entire body, spreading to the very tips of his fingers and to the ends of his toes where they curl in his boots. Somehow he remains standing through it all, thighs trembling and fingertips digging into the brick wall as the man drinks him down and then licks his lips with a satisfied hum. 

He’s still smirking, even as he gets to his feet and dusts his jeans off like it’s nothing. 

“See you around, Jimin.”

He’s gone before Jimin even thinks to ask him his name back or return the favor, disappearing back inside the bar through the back door.

*

After that, Jimin can’t stay away.

It becomes a thing. He gets off work, goes home for a few hours to make a sad meal for one, and then takes a shower and puts on his cute, well-fitting clothes that he hasn’t worn in years but dug out of his closet with frantic urgency. And then, he heads to the same bar, almost every single night.

He learns that the bartender’s name is Jungkook. 

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook– it sounds so satisfying to moan his name when Jungkook’s mouth is around his cock, or when Jungkook’s hands are everywhere, wrapped around him, caressing his skin. Or when, finally, Jungkook leads him back into a storage room one night and fucks him over a stack of crates and makes him see stars, something quick but so electrifyingly pleasurable that Jimin can barely walk afterward.

Even on nights when the last thing he wants is a drink, he finds himself on edge, gut twisting with anticipation until he can step foot in that bar and see Jungkook.

Jungkook.

He’s addicted, but it’s not to the alcohol.

*

“Hey.” Jimin settles into his usual spot and smiles when Jungkook places a tall glass with something pink and fizzy in it in front of him.

“Hey yourself.” Jungkook leans forward on both of his elbows and Jimin feels himself flushing under his gaze. “So. Why do you come here so often?”

Jimin freezes, heart pounding. It takes him way too long to realize Jungkook is fucking with him. 

“I– it’s the drinks, obviously,” he finally replies, trying to get his brain to catch up. “Best drinks in the city.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks with a smirk. “What do you like best, then? Whisky? Tequila? Beer?”

“Shut up,” Jimin mumbles. God, he’s half hard already, all from Jungkook’s teasing and from the anticipation of what’s to come. 

“Try that,” Jungkook says, nodding at the drink between them. “I think you’ll actually like it.”

Jimin leans forward and takes a sip through the straw. The drink is actually good, sweet and bubbly, and it tastes absolutely nothing like alcohol. 

“It’s good! What is it?”

Jungkook reaches up and rubs the side of his nose where his piercing is, scrunching up his nose slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching. “It’s sprite and cranberry juice.” 

Jimin almost spits out the sip he’s currently drinking. He barely manages to swallow it, and then sputters for a moment, pouting up at Jungkook, who’s laughing.

“Fuck you,” Jimin wheezes, but he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face at the delighted look in Jungkook’s eyes. 

“Okay. C’mere,” Jungkook says, tilting his head toward the back room, and Jimin doesn’t even pretend like he’s not eager to follow him out.

Outside, he finds himself between the wall and Jungkook’s warm body. He’s torn between wanting to close his eyes and soak up every sensation, and keeping his eyes open so he can watch every single second of what’s about to unfold. 

“So pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, staring right into Jimin’s eyes and making the decision for him. Eyes open. Jimin can’t look away. “I’m gonna make you feel so good tonight.” 

That’s something Jungkook always says, and no matter how many times Jimin tries to reciprocate, Jungkook is seemingly far more interested in Jimin’s pleasure than his own. Jimin suspects it has to do with how in control Jungkook always wants to be– when he comes, it’s always under his own terms. 

Suddenly, Jungkook leans back, twisting his head to one side and bringing a hand quickly to his face. Jimin can feel the slight shiver that runs through him– he wonders briefly if Jungkook is cold, since he’s just in a tank top and the air is much chillier tonight– but before he can contemplate it much further he hears a barely audible, breathy gasp and then Jungkook’s entire body jerks against him with something that might be a sneeze.

Jungkook blinks rapidly afterward, looking a little disoriented for a moment, and then he sniffs sharply and turns back to Jimin.

“It’s cold out tonight,” Jimin comments, because now that they’re pausing for a moment he can see their condensating breath hanging in the air between them. 

Jungkook cups the side of his neck, his thumb brushing lightly across Jimin’s jawline. The very tip of his nose is pink.

“I live close. Shall we go find someplace warmer?” 

Jimin nods eagerly, both because he’s been imaging what Jungkook’s apartment looks like for a couple of months now, and also because he swears he can see the faintest shiver run up Jungkook’s spine again. 

It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to talk his way into getting out of his shift a little early. Jimin waits for him at the bar. When they leave, Jungkook leads Jimin down the street with the promise of a walk that’s only a few blocks. 

The building they stop in front of looks like a fancy hotel. As soon as they step inside the warm building, Jungkook starts to sniffle like he has a runny nose. He waits until Jimin goes past the entryway into the lobby first before pressing his wrist briefly to his nostrils, but Jimin sees it anyway in the reflection of the glass door. 

He barely has time to worry or even think about it at all because Jungkook is suddenly dragging him into the elevator and kissing him up against the wall before the doors even close all the way– Jimin can feel the buttons behind him, knows that he’s accidentally pressed them all with his back when the elevator comes to a stop at each floor. 

Jungkook impatiently pushes the button to close the door each time it starts to open before his hand finds its place again cupped around his jaw, pulling him into the kiss, his other hand under Jimin’s shirt to tease at the waistband of his boxers.

“How high up do you live?” Jimin finally asks, breaking the kiss with a giggle he can’t contain when the elevator stops yet again on the eleventh floor.

“Three more. I can’t wait that long.”

“What–?”

Jungkook grabs him by the wrist and tugs him out of the elevator, then over to the stairwell. He practically runs up the three flights of stairs, leaving Jimin to hurry after him, panting slightly once they reach the top. He feels like he’s chasing Jungkook, though he knows he’d never be able to catch him. 

As soon as they’re at the top, Jungkook grabs him by the shoulders and backs him against the wall, cupping one hand behind his head at the last minute so it doesn’t slam into the concrete before kissing him deeply. 

“Hold on a sec,” Jimin gasps after only a few seconds. As sexy as kissing Jungkook in the stairwell is, he’s still trying to catch his breath from the impromptu exercise. “How are you not out of breath?”    

“Lots of cardio,” Jungkook replies, waggling his eyebrows before leaning in to kiss him again. 

When Jimin’s hand comes up to grip his upper arm and he tries for another gasp of air around Jungkook’s tongue, Jungkook easily relents with a laugh, leaning back and tugging the stairwell door open so they can finally make their way down the hall to his apartment.

Jungkook sniffles again as he unlocks his door, and Jimin watches his side profile, watches the way his nostrils pull in and out just slightly. He catches Jimin looking, but Jimin doesn’t say anything, just ducks around him and pushes his way into Jungkook’s apartment. He’s dying to see what it looks like inside. 

“Damn,” he whistles, eyebrows raised. “Impressive.” 

He only has a minute or so to look around at the tidy, luxuriously decorated apartment before Jungkook is tugging him into the spacious bedroom. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Jungkook whispers in his ear, nipping at his earlobe. “Be right back.” He sniffles once more, and then he disappears into the adjacent bathroom, leaving Jimin next to the biggest bed he’s ever seen in his life.

Just when he’s trying to figure out if he should get a head start on taking his clothes off, he hears a strange sound coming from the bathroom– it’s another sneeze, not quite as restrained as the one he’d heard from Jungkook earlier, but still obviously stifled. Jimin can’t help but feel a little worried, the emotion swirling around in his gut uneasily. He knows, logically, that just being out in the cold air wouldn’t actually make Jungkook fall sick, but there’s still a part of him that wonders if that’s happening and it makes his chest feel funny to think about Jungkook being unwell. 

He tries to shake the feeling immediately. He’s not here to catch feelings. He’s here to get gloriously fucked. On a huge, probably very comfortable bed. 

When Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, Jimin searches his face for any signs of malaise, but he doesn’t see anything except for a ravenous look in Jungkook’s eyes. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, closing the distance between them and cupping Jimin’s cheek. Jimin’s breath catches in his throat. 

“Jungkook,” is all he can say before he finds himself on his back on a bed that feels like it’s made of clouds. 

Suddenly, Jungkook is on top of him, sucking at the base of his throat, his collarbone, then up to the spot just below his ear that makes him gasp, in– in– in– and when he finally breathes out, Jungkook’s tongue is sliding along his jawline, and Jimin can feel him nosing at his pulse point, can feel Jungkook’s erection pressing against his own.

“So pretty,” Jungkook emphasizes, his lips against his earlobe, making Jimin shiver. “Making such pretty noises for me already.”

He sits up, leaning back on his feet, his thighs spread on either side of Jimin’s waist. He reaches for the hem of his shirt and strips it off in one fluid motion before leaning back down for another kiss.

When he sits up again, he climbs off of Jimin and stands to unbutton his pants, sliding them off just as quickly and gracefully. 

Jimin’s heart is pounding in his chest as he takes in the sight. Here, they can strip off all of their clothes and take their time. Sure, they’ve exchanged pictures and video calls plenty of times in the past few months– and there was that one mind-blowing encounter in the storage room– but most of their interactions have been mostly clothed. Seeing Jungkook completely naked standing next to his bed that he’s invited Jimin into sends something that feels like a jolt of electricity throughout Jimin’s entire body.

When Jungkook climbs back over the top of him and hovers over him, Jimin’s hips buck up automatically, embarrassingly needy. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook laughs and brushes the backs of his fingers along Jimin’s cheek and smirks. “Someone’s excited. Look at how flushed you are. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Jimin.” 

Jimin reaches up, running his hands over Jungkook’s bare chest, biting back a whimper at Jungkook’s words. Jungkook has both of his nipples pierced and as Jimin thumbs over the piercings, Jungkook arches his back, offers more of himself up, letting out a loud moan. 

But he doesn’t let Jimin’s hands wander for long before he’s grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them up above his head. Jimin’s breath catches in his throat. 

“Let’s get these clothes off of you,” Jungkook murmurs after a moment of watching Jimin squirm, a delighted smile on his face. He lets Jimin go and Jimin hurries to sit up, scrambling to take his own clothes off so that he can have Jungkook’s hands on him again, so he can touch Jungkook again.

As soon as he’s naked, he’s pushed back down onto the bed. Jungkook is holding a bottle of lube and a condom, and the sight of them makes Jimin shiver. He shivers again when Jungkook crawls back over the top of him, and then again when Jungkook reaches down between their bodies. Only his fingertips brush against Jimin’s already hard cock– and only briefly, just long enough to make Jimin’s cock throb, make him have to swallow back a moan– and then his hand is sliding lower. He touches the insides of Jimin’s thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps, and Jimin shivers yet again, his entire body tensing in anticipation. 

Rubbing one thumb against his entrance, Jungkook traces circles there, teasing before pushing his fingertip more firmly against him, and when he slides his finger in, Jimin cannot control the needy whimper that escapes his lips. Jungkook’s finger moves in and out, his free hand coming up to cup the side of Jimin’s face.  

Jungkook kisses him, swallows down his whimpers, and Jimin can’t even kiss back, can’t get his lips to work. He feels a puff of hot air as Jungkook chuckles lightly at his inaction and then there’s a second finger inside of him. At the same time, Jungkook is holding his waist like he might never let go. Jimin’s skin is on fire, prickling with goosebumps yet thrumming with hot arousal. 

The third finger has him arching his back so far he feels like he might levitate right off the bed. His thighs are trembling and his forehead is sweaty and Jungkook– fuck, Jungkook– Jungkook is sucking on his collarbone, licking down his chest until he’s circling his tongue around a nipple, and when Jungkook’s teeth close around the hardened peak at the same time that he’s opening Jimin up, the pleasure-pain has him crying out, his voice hoarse with desire. 

“Please– please fuck me, fuck– Jungkook, please–” 

His words are cut off when Jungkook curls his fingers inside him. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, yes please. Fuck me– ohh–! Please, Jungkook.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook breathes out. “How do you want me?”

Jimin grabs the base of his cock so he doesn’t come right then and there. Jungkook lets out a silky laugh and bends down to kiss his sternum.  

Jimin thinks about their first time, in the storage room. 

“I want to see you,” he whispers, and Jungkook nods eagerly, reaches down with both hands to grip Jimin’s thighs before spreading his legs wide. He shuffles back a little and then leans down to take Jimin’s cock into his mouth without any warning, and Jimin nearly sobs at the way Jungkook swirls his tongue around in circles around the head. Then, Jungkook’s fingers are pushing back into him, opening him up, and between the wet heat of Jungkook’s mouth and the stretch of his fingers, Jimin is moaning, needy and wanting and desperate.  

Jungkook hums his approval and takes more of Jimin in his mouth. He pushes one of Jimin’s legs up so his knee is in the air and reaches again for the bottle of lube. When he pulls off, Jimin’s cock bobs toward his stomach, flushed and red and so hard it aches. 

“You sound so good for me already,” Jungkook encourages, cupping his hand under Jimin’s knee and guiding his leg over his shoulder. As he lines himself up, he rests one palm against Jimin’s stomach, his hand moving back and forth over the soft skin. “You ready?” He asks, waiting for Jimin to nod eagerly before he starts to press his cock against his entrance. 

When Jungkook pushes into him, Jimin nearly comes right then and there, his entire body clenching and relaxing involuntarily as Jungkook moves his hips back and forth slowly. It takes him a second to get a breath in, and then another to uncurl his fingers from where they’re gripping the bed sheets. He can hear himself moaning, making obscenely loud sounds as Jungkook thrusts into him with a steady rhythm, and he has to force his eyes open so he can look at Jungkook while he fucks him.

What he sees nearly takes his breath away– Jungkook’s head is tipped back in unbridled pleasure, his expression so vulnerable it sends a wave of heat straight to his dick. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, and Jungkook’s eyes snap open. 

He looks down at Jimin, his lips parting with a small, startled gasp when he sees what Jimin imagines must be such an intense desire that it would be embarrassing, if not for the fact that he feels so fucking good. Jungkook’s eyes flash with a similar desire. He watches Jimin for a moment, and Jimin watches him, and then Jungkook speeds up, changing his angle just enough that he’s hitting Jimin’s prostate.  

“You feel– feel so good, baby,” Jungkook pants out. 

Jimin comes.

His orgasm hits him so suddenly and so intensely, his eyes rolling back and his hands digging into the sheets again, not a single hand touching his cock and Jungkook’s name on his lips.

He comes for what feels like an eternity. 

He’s soaring, riding wave after wave of pleasure, the tight ball of heat in his groin uncoiling like an explosion.  

He feels Jungkook still thrusting inside of him, speeding up until his movements become quicker, more erratic, and he comes just a minute after Jimin, when Jimin is still riding out the aftershocks, little waves of pleasure that have him tightening around Jungkook’s cock.

Jungkook’s chin is tucked to his chest as he catches his breath, his hair falling into his face, and Jimin reaches up with a trembling hand to brush it back. Jungkook smiles and slowly eases out before flopping down onto the bed with a satisfied grunt, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. His chest heaves up and down as he pants hard. Jimin feels similarly winded, his limbs like jelly.   

Jungkook lies there for a long, long time, breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath. Jimin is happy to lie next to him, happy to feel the warmth of Jungkook’s body against his. It feels like coming out of a daze, his breathing finally returning to normal and his body relaxing into a sated, blissful state, but Jungkook is still huffing loudly next to him even after several minutes have passed. 

“You okay?” Jimin finally asks, a little surprised at how wrecked his voice is.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, doesn’t even open his eyes, but he lifts his hand and sets it on Jimin’s chest, patting once before letting it rest there, absently moving his thumb back and forth in a touch that’s a little ticklish but surprisingly tender. It isn’t until Jimin starts to move, sitting up slowly, that Jungkook finally opens his eyes, blinking like he’d almost been asleep.

“Hey,” he says, face flushed and lips moistened by a quick swipe of his tongue. “Fuck, that felt good. Thank you.”

Jimin feels his face heat up. “It felt amazing,” he agrees, unable to keep a smile off his face. “I’ve never felt like that before,” he admits, watching Jungkook’s expression carefully. “That was so fucking hot.”

“So hot.” Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath through his nose. There’s a small smile on his lips, and when he opens his eyes it grows wider. “Let’s go wash up,” he says, finally sitting up. “I’ll fall asleep if we stay like this.” 

He leads Jimin into the ensuite bathroom, and Jimin nearly gasps when he sees the size of it. 

“Your bathroom is huge,” Jimin says before he can stop himself, and Jungkook laughs loudly and turns the shower on.

He lets the bathroom get steamy before leading Jimin under the spray of water. He wraps himself around Jimin’s back and mouths at the back of his neck, along his shoulders, one hand coming around his front to tease Jimin’s nipples. Jimin melts under the hot water and under Jungkook’s touch, shivering in pleasure when Jungkook spins him around and backs him against the shower wall and kisses him until he’s half hard again. When Jimin’s lips are thoroughly swollen, Jungkook leans back and smirks. God, he’s always smirking, always looking so fucking smug, but Jimin can hardly complain when it’s so hot and it means he’s about to feel really, really good.

“Think you can go again, sweetheart?” He asks, and fuck, that’s the first time Jungkook has ever called him sweetheart and that goes straight to his dick. “Oh? I think that’s a yes,” Jungkook grins when he feels the physical response against his thigh.

Jimin feels himself start to tremble a little, on the edge of overstimulation as Jungkook wraps his hand around his cock. Jungkook’s refractory period is impressively short– he once came three times in the span of an hour when they’d facetimed each other when Jimin had to fly out of state for work, coming undone by his own hands and Jimin’s voice– but before he ever met Jungkook, Jimin had never been able to come more than once in a day.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” he moans. 

“Fuck my mouth,” Jungkook responds, and he drops to his knees right there in the shower and licks a stripe along the underside of Jimin’s cock.

It’s almost dizzying, the way Jungkook pulls him towards his second orgasm of the night so quickly, both hands cupped around his ass so he can guide him into his mouth at a pace that has Jimin moaning loudly, fingers scrambling to find purchase in Jungkook’s hair. He gasps hoarsely when he comes, and Jungkook swallows him down with ease before climbing back to his feet. 

“How are you real?” Jimin asks, breathless again as he clings onto Jungkook so he doesn’t fall over.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook replies softly, his voice barely audible over the shower spray. 

Jimin spends the rest of the shower in a daze, and when Jungkook turns the water off it surprises him. He blinks up at him, warm and content and still weak in the knees.

Jungkook stifles a sneeze when they step out of the shower, cupping one hand around his mouth and nose and twisting sharply to the side. He shivers afterward, and then he blinks a few times before turning back around. His face flushes when he sees Jimin watching him, so Jimin doesn’t acknowledge the sneeze, and instead gives him a soft smile.

“Your towels are fluffy,” he comments, rubbing his cheek against said towel with a satisfied sigh. 

Jungkook snorts and starts to dry himself off. “What, are your towels made out of sandpaper or something?” 

“Feels like that, sometimes,” Jimin murmurs in response, only half joking.

Once they’re both dried off, Jungkook tosses their towels into a hamper in the corner of the bathroom, and then they go back into the bedroom. Jimin is surprised when Jungkook hands him a stack of clean, folded clothes instead of his own pile of clothes from wherever they’re scattered on the floor.

Jungkook gets dressed in record time and is inspecting the sheets and comforter on his bed before Jimin even unfolds the clothes. Apparently, Jungkook deems everything clean enough to sleep on, because he arranges the pillows and climbs into the bed with a sleepy yawn. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook says, yawning again immediately afterward. 

It’s the first time Jimin has heard Jungkook admit anything like that. He’s never tired, never unwell, never even in a bad mood– at least, not that Jimin has ever been around for. And it’s not like he should be around for it, since they’re just…whatever it is they are…and so Jimin very hurriedly squashes down the little voice in his head that’s pleased to hear Jungkook admit to something in the realm of vulnerability, and starts to get dressed.   

“Hurry up or I’m gonna fall asleep,” Jungkook half-whines, voice soft and sleepy. He draws back the covers on the other side of the bed once he’s settled, and that’s when it clicks– oh. Jungkook is implying that he should also get into bed. And sleep there. After changing into Jungkook’s clothes. 

Fuck.

The sweatpants and t-shirt Jungkook gives him are too big for him, and he can’t ignore the thrill he feels after putting them on, nor can he ignore how much he likes the way Jungkook sleepily eyes him up and down, clearly satisfied at the sight of him in his clothes. It’s almost possessive, and it makes a chill run up Jimin’s spine despite the warmth in the room.

Double fuck.