#tw overindulgence

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Time is an illusion inside the Genius Lab. Sometimes minutes pass like hours. Sometimes hours pass like minutes. Yoongi had a hard time keeping track of the concept of time when he’s so absorbed in his work. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have accepted collaboration projects with fifteen global artists on top of his own album and debut preparations. Maybe he has become too proud, too greedy. But hindsight is always 20/20. He can see everything clearly now that he’s drowning from the pressure. Everyone always says he operates like a machine, but he’s still only human. Even the great Min Yoongi has his limits. 

He knows he needs to eat, but can’t be bothered to leave his studio. He keeps a stash of cup ramyeon in his studio for this exact reason. But he’s operating under skewed timing. He’s stuck in a mindset where minutes pass like hours. He thinks he is so far behind, not realizing that he’s only been stuck on the same part for only 25 minutes. He swears he’s been at it for hours.

He eats one ramyeon. 

Through trial and error, he’s able to move forward. He finds a combination of sounds that flows well. The bridge is complete. Now onto the refrain. He’s stuck again. He works, plugging new instruments and sound effects. Trying to layer on sounds. It’s complicated. He’s stuck again. He feels like he’s spent hours on it. It’s actually only been 30 more minutes. 

Still, he rewards himself with another cup of ramyeon. 

He moves on to the chorus. It needs to be more lively. It needs to fit well with quick motion choreography. He needs a sound that feels like driving a convertible on the beach. That’s the information he was provided. But he doesn’t know what that feels like. After thinking about it for hours (15 minutes). 

He stress-eats yet another instant ramyeon cup. He even snacks on some chips while he watches the plastic cup spinning on in the microwave. 

After he finishes gulping dowm the broth, he throws the container away and looks at the three recently eaten containers laying atop one another. The other two containers are still warm to the touch. He starts to wonder how much time had actually passed. The new heaviness and rumbling of his stomach tells him he’s eaten far too much way too quickly. 

He looks back at the time stamped revision history to the track and confirms that only about an hour has passed since he started working. He’s disgusted at himself for eating three whole cups of ramyeon in under one hour. He didn’t feel full before. But now he’s feeling bloated, his stomach swelling underneath his sweatshirt. Thankfully, it’s oversized, so the fabric doesn’t need to stretch to accommodate his bulging middle. 

But, of course, it is the one day he chooses jeans over sweatpants. And not loose fitting jeans. No, skinny jeans. He leans back in his desk chair and unbuttons them to make room for his aching stomach. The zipper unravels on its own. Instantly, his stomach pushes through and he lets out a heavy breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He feels so much better. He doesn’t think he could refasten them even if he wanted to.

He grunts when he sits up and leans back over his keyboard, determined to work more on the song. It’s a struggle. It’s nearly impossible to focus on the music over his own stomach gurgling loudly. And even when he wears his most effective noise-cancelling headphones, he can still feel the rumbling through his whole abdomen. It is screaming for attention, but Yoongi ignores. 

That is, until the hiccups start. He hardly registers the first one, working right through it. He thinks the next three are a fluke. The fifth hiccup hits hard, deep in his stomach. And by the tenth, he realizes they won’t be stopping anytime soon. 

He tries to work through them, tries to focus on the track and waits for them to go away on their own. But it proves too difficult for him to suffer through. The squeaky sound distracts him from the sounds of the instruments. His whole body jolts with each one, his hand flying off the mouse or making him click something he didn't intend to. His diaphragm jumps and slaps hard against his too swollen stomach making him wince in pain. And each hiccup leaves a burning feeling in his chest. He only makes it five minutes before he closes the software. 

He slides his chair over to his couch and throws himself onto it, kicking the chair away. Both hands wrap tightly around his middle, feeling it jump with his fast-paced hiccuping. Each loud chirp followed by a whimper or grunt. He tries to rub against the bloated organ, trying to press out the excess air in hopes it will make the hiccups stop. But it's no luck. 

It never is. He's tried so many times before. It was advice from Seokjin, who like him, gets pretty frequent bouts of hiccups. Seokjin mentioned his go to cure was to burp them away. No more airy middle, no more hiccups. It works for his hyung every time. But try as he might, Yoongi is not capable of making himself burp. 

He's tried ever since he was a teenager. Everyone always told him- "just swallow air, it's so easy." But he never understood what that meant. And he never did it right. Boys in middle school made fun of him for his pathetic attempts. When he joined the company, that weakness became a strength. They loved a trainee who didn't engage in the boyish antics and shenanigans that burping contests fell into. He became a big hit among the instructors. 

But the inability to burp came with its own rotten downside. He would always end up with pretty aggressive cases of hiccups any time he did anything to upset his stomach. Drink too many carbonated beverages? Hiccups. Eat too fast? Hiccups. Work out too soon after eating? Hiccups. 

And of course, eating too much? Definitely painful hiccups. 

He tried to swallow air anyway. But just seemed to make his case worse, each hiccup punctuated by a small airy burp that only served to hurt his throat and relieved absolutely none of the pressure in his stomach. All the slapping and jolting in his stomach was starting to make him nauseous. 

While Yoongi wallows in misery of his own making, there's another rapper down the hall who has been waiting patiently. It's 3:28. Hoseok remembers Yoongi agreeing to meet with him at 3:00 to help him. He's been stuck on the same bar of this track for days. He's tried to work through it, but he really feels like he needs reinforcements. He needs a second opinion. He needs Prod. SUGA of BTS. 

He knows Yoongi's been busy with all of his collaborations. It was with a heavy heart and a very full wallet that he approached Yoongi about it in the first place. He even willingly agreed to pay Yoongi for his time, not even at a member discounted rate. Yoongi's time is valuable. He doesn't want to disrespect it. 

But Yoongi is nothing if not punctual. Hoseok starts to wonder if Yoongi had forgotten. Or if he'd been so busy he'd fallen asleep at his desk- again. After half an hour of waiting, he finally decides to text the Daegu rapper. 

Hoseok: "Hyung, where are you?"

Yoongi texts back almost instantly. It's an ominous reply- "4342755"

Hoseok thinks for a minute, trying to make sense of the numbers. Could it be a phone number? A coordinate location? A new text lingo that he doesn't understand? 

He thinks he has it when he stumbles through his memory. It's the pass code to Yoongi's studio. Yoongi never shares that with anyone. Hoseok runs down the hall, thinking he'd mixed it up and Yoongi had been waiting for him the whole time. He feels like such a bad client. 

Hoseok smiles when he inputs the numbers and the door unlocks. He rushes into the studio, "Hyung, are we meeting-" He cuts himself off when be sees the desk chair is empty, sitting in the middle of the room. He hears Yoongi before he sees him. 

The chirp of a familiar sounding hiccup turns Hoseok's attention to the couch. He finds Yoongi lounging there, hands on his bare stomach with his sweatshirt pulled up. The bunched up hem rests on the top of his bulging stomach. It bounces with another hiccup before Hoseok approaches. 

The younger rapper coos, "Oh, hyung. What happened to you?" He sits beside his hyung, this scene all too familiar to him. Yoongi's always had a pretty sensitive stomach. 

"I ate too-too much," Yoongi admits, freely hiccuping between words. He has no embarrassment with Hoseok. The resident sunshine member has seen him at his worst, has loved and supported him through everything. He knows he has nothing to be ashamed of. "Was-wasn't my fault tho-though. I-I lost tra-k of t-time." 

Hoseok chuckles, resting a hand on Yoongi's upper thigh. He struggles to fathom how Yoongi can think he's not at fault. "You always lose track of time, hyung. Someone needs to get you a watch to track your meals" He chides. 

"Sh-shut up," Yoongi would usually play back with him, but he's not in the mood today. "Don't te-tease me. I don't f-feel good." 

"That's okay, babe." Hoseok's hand wanders to a spot on Yoongi's hip. "I'm sorry. I see you're not feeling well." The other hand cups Yoongi's cheek. "I shouldn't make fun of you." 

Yoongi hiccups again, "Exactly. I'm still yo-your hyung. You need to respect-me." 

Hoseok has to bite back his giggles. It's amusing to watch Yoongi try to lecture him while he looks so small and bounces with cute squeaky hiccups. The expressions on the older rapper's face after each one are adorable. "You're right, hyung. What can I do to help you?" He asks, but the hand that he'd rested on Yoongi's hip is already slowly creeping toward the exposed skin of his stomach. 

Yoongi's aware of it too. He feels Hoseok's cold thin fingers gliding against his warm stomach. "You're gonna rub it fo-for me, Seokie?" He's basically begging, a deep pout on his lips. He feels so uncomfortably bloated and he's so over the hiccuping. He just wants to feel relief. 

Hoseok's hand movement becomes much more deliberate. He immediately palms Yoongi's stomach, pressing into the firmness with as much pressure as the older rapper permits. His hand bounces in conjunction with each of his hyung's hiccups. "Oh, poor hyung. They sound painful," Hoseok coos. 

"Well, it doesn't exactly feel goo-good," Yoongi groans, choking on his next hiccup, "I want them t-to stop." 

Hoseok rattles off a few common remedies, each one Yoongi doubts and challenges. He claims nothing ever works. Hoseok tries scaring him, but that just ends with a light punch to the shoulder and a loud hiccup. In a last ditch effort, Hoseok recommends kissing. It's not something they haven't done before, or something they wouldn't do again. But Yoongi shoots it down claiming he's not in the mood, feeling too full to do anything that could turn nefarious. Hoseok doesn't miss the growing blush on his cheeks as he turns his head away. 

At that the dancer deflates, having run out of remedies he remembers. He just goes on, rubbing Yoongi's stomach and suppressing the urge to giggle at each hiccup. After several minutes of rubbing, Hoseok's face lights up with a new idea. "Hyung, do you still have a heating pad in here?" Hoseok remembers Yoongi having one on hand while he was recovering from his shoulder surgery. 

Yoongi just points to a cardboard box in the corner of the studio. There's a sticky note hanging above it that reads "Lost and Found" in Jimin's handwriting. The dancer chuckles, going over to the box. He rustles through items in the box. It really does seem like a lost and found. It's filled with miscellaneous items that would otherwise clutter the studio space. Many of the member's personal items filled the box. He actually finds a bracelet he'd thought he lost in addition to the heating pad. 

He plugs in the heating pad and resumes his gentle rubbing while it heats up. "Maybe this will help, hyung." Hoseok speaks in a whisper as he lays the heating pad across Yoongi's upper stomach. He still uses his hands to massage under his hyung's bellybutton. Yoongi relaxes into the heat. 

Yoongi's persistent hiccups shake the heating pad. Hoseok has to frequently readjust. But after a few more minutes, the hiccups eventually fade out. After two full minutes without hiccuping, Yoongi lets out a relieved sigh, "Finally!" 

His stomach still aches from fullness, but he's glad to finally be rid of the hiccups. He feels a lot better, no more lingering nausea. He turns to Hoseok with a bright, gummy grin. "Hob-ah, I really owe you one." 

Hoseok really knows he didn't do anything. The hiccups had just run their course. Still, he's happy when his hyung is happy. "How about you help me with my song and we call it even?" The dancer remarks, recalling his original intentions. 

Yoongi's eyes widened, realizing he had completely forgotten he agreed to help Hoseok today. "Shit, Hoseok-ah. Yes, we can do that! Let's go to your studio." Yoongi lunges to get up from the couch and winces at the way his stomach cramps when he moves. 

Hoseok picks up on the wince. "It's okay, hyung. You still clearly need to digest. How's tomorrow?" Hoseok offers. 

Yoongi smiles timidly, "Sure."

"I'm going to bring my laptop to you, though. Now that I know the key code." Hoseok jokes. Yoongi laughs, deep from his belly despite how much it hurts. 

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A/N: I researched a lot of content to try and find any content of Yoongi hiccuping. I managed to find things for all the other members except Yoongi. Until watching Memories of 2021 anyway, which is where I clipped that gif from. Seems like this is the perfect time to post this.

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Yoongi’s listening. Yoongi is always listening. He’s always watching. Always paying attention. He notices Hoseok skipping meals. He feels the dancer’s absences. He sees the lack of food related trash in the bin in Hoseok’s studio. He eyes the visible weight loss during their wardrobe fittings. He hears Hoseok’s stomach wail for food it’s not getting. It worries him. 

He’s tried to bring up the subject with Hoseok before. But it doesn’t get him very far. Hoseok assures him that he’s “fine. Really, hyung. I’ll eat later.” But that’s always his answer. And later never seems to come. He trusts when Hoseok says he’s not trying to starve himself. He knows Hoseok gets invested in his work. It’s a weakness they share. But Yoongi at least has enough sense to keep snacks in his studio. Hoseok hates to keep food, afraid it will bring roaches or ants into his studio. The horror. 

He likes to keep a hands-off approach to the other members. He knows they are all capable adults, each leading their own lives and making their own decisions. He doesn’t like to abuse his hyung card. But this is Hoseok. He’s taking a huge risk by being the first one to debut solo. He can only imagine how much stress the dancer is under. And he knows how meticulous Hoseok is when it comes to his work. He wants the debut to go well for him. He wants everything to go well for him. All the time. And he knows Hoseok won’t be able to maintain his stamina without keeping his body well fed. So he’s willing to step in this time. 

Still, he’s not stern like Seokjin and Namjoon. He’s gentle and laid back. He’s not going to force anything onto Hoseok. But he knows Hoseok’s weak spots. One of which happens to be the Daegu rapper himself. Yoongi knows if he frames it in the right way, Hoseok will not be able to refuse. 

Yoongi treats himself to lunch one day. He purposefully orders one of Hoseok’s favorites. And he purposefully only eats half of it. He packs up the other half and makes his way to Hoseok’s studio right around lunch time. It’s unlocked, as per the usual. Yoongi invites himself inside and hovers, listening to the beat Hoseok’s working on. “That’s coming along well,” He gets the younger rapper's attention.

“Yoongi-hyung. What are you doing here?” Hoseok spins around in the chair. 

“I got lunch for myself, but I wasn’t as hungry as I thought I was.” He passes the take out container to Hoseok, “You want the rest.” 

Hoseok eyes the meal with a wide smile. “Thanks, hyung.” He opens the lid and smells the food. It’s still warm. “Bulgogi. My favorite.” He grabs the chopsticks Yoongi’s offering and takes a bite. 

Yoongi sits on Hoseok’s couch, making himself comfortable. “So, tell me what you’re working on.” He opens conversation. He truly doesn’t want to know anything about Hoseok’s album. He doesn’t want any spoilers. He wants to be able to fully experience it upon completion, take in the whole thing at once. But he stays. He just stays to make sure that Hoseok empties the container. 

Hoseok falls right into his trap. He starts talking about his concept and his ideas. He talks about his filming and his costumes. Yoongi wipes it all from his mind. He lets Hoseok resume his work once the container is empty. 

Yoongi makes a habit of it. For a week straight, he visits Hoseok’s studio for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He even stops a few times in between to share a snack. He mixes it up every time. Sometimes he brings leftovers to the studio. Sometimes he invites Hoseok out to a restaurant, or even just for quick street food. Sometimes he has food ‘accidentally’ delivered to Hoseok’s studio. Every time, Hoseok greets him with kindness and shares a meal with him. He doesn’t seem privy to Yoongi’s intentions. 

Yoongi’s simply satisfied to see that Hoseok is eating. He can see the color improve in the dancer’s face. His eyes look more alive. He looks less faint. And his bones protrude less through his skin. He’s willing to share as many meals with Hoseok as it takes to get the dancer back on a normal diet. At least until after his debut. 

Hoseok’s at his wits end. He’s so grateful to Yoongi. He knows Yoongi visits him out of concern. And he doesn’t want his hyung to worry. But he can’t take much more of the ‘random’ food invitations. It was sweet at first. But Hoseok’s body is struggling to manage all the food Yoongi’s been giving him. He’s been bloated and miserable for days. His loose fitting clothing feels tight around his stomach. Nothing digests well anymore. Even just half a take-out meal fills him. The thought of another sympathy lunch rendezvous makes him feel sick. 

He knows it’s his own fault for switching his diet so abruptly. He knows his body just isn’t used to eating so much since he’d been too busy to eat. He can’t blame Yoongi for being concerned. If it were any of his dongsaengs, or any member for that matter, he’d be concerned too. But he needs to talk to Yoongi about it. Because the never-ending stomach ache is making it hard to focus on his work. He can’t focus on his tracks, he can’t practice his choreo, he can’t prioritize his debut preparations feeling so gross. 

He decides to go to Yoongi before Yoongi can come to him for the usual lunch date. He makes his way down to Yoongi’s studio, rubbing his stomach on the walk over. The aching worsens with every step. He doesn’t want to look at food. He doesn’t want to think about food. At least until his stomach settles. He stands outside the door. It’s locked, as per the usual. So he knocks. 

Yoongi answers it, surprised to see Hoseok at the door. He immediately wonders if Hoseok has grown so accustomed to their shared mealtimes that he was seeking out the elder. But the thought leaves his mind when he sees the pained grimace on Hoseok’s face. “Hob-ah,” he invites the younger inside. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t feel too good, hyung.” Hoseok admits, hands on his stomach. “My stomach really hurts.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue. He escorts Hoseok to the large couch in his studio, checking him for fever. He doesn’t find one. While he looks through the emergency kit he keeps in his studio, he begins his lecure. “See, Hoseok-ah. This is why it’s important to eat well. When you don’t eat well, you make yourself sick. What will you do if you fall sick so close to your debut? We are all piggybacking off of you. So you need to be in good health. You should have-” Yoongi could have continued, but Hoseok cuts him off. 

“Hyung, I’m feeling sick because I ate too well.” He admits shyly. He plays with the hem of his shirt for a few seconds before he pulls the material up to his chest, exposing his obviously bloated stomach. It pushed to the brim of his waistband, an astonishing feat considering how baggy the dancer’s pants are. 

Yoongi feels immediate guilt rush over him. He eyes Hoseok’s stomach and knows he’s at fault. And he’d just jumped right into a lecture without gathering all the information. He bites his bottom lip and curses at himself. “Hob-ah. When did you start feeling sick?” He sits beside the bloated dancer, ready to listen.

Hoseok doesn’t answer, eyes darting across the studio to look anywhere but Yoongi. This is how Yoongi knows it’s bad. He asks again, “Hoseok-ah,” his tone is much more firm, “How long?”

“A couple days,” Hoseok answers in a tiny voice, still avoiding eye contact with his hyung. 

“Hob-ah!” Yoongi starts but Hoseok jumps in immediately. 

“I know! I know! I should have told you sooner.” He takes responsibility. “But you were being so kind, taking time out of your day to make sure I was eating. I know you were worried about me. You weren’t doing anything wrong. I should be grateful. And I am. But it was just…too much too quickly, I guess.” He doesn’t want Yoongi to feel any blame. “I’m sorry for making you worry, hyung. I’m going to take better care of myself. I promise.” 

Yoongi deflates at the admission that Hoseok knew his intentions the whole time. It goes against his whole hands-off approach. But maybe he was making it too obvious. Three meals a day? When was the last time he had independently eaten three meals for himself? He should have known that would be too much for his dongsaeng to digest after eating the bare minimum for several weeks. He should have been more careful. “I should have checked in with you more.” Yoongi admits, taking some responsibility for the outcome as well. “How can I help you?” 

“Would you…” There’s a question on the tip of Hoseok’s tongue. But he doesn’t ask, too afraid Yoongi would say no. He changes it at the last second, “Do you have anything for tummy aches?”  

Yoongi revisits his studio medicine supply. He’s got a half-full bottle of pepto in his arsenal and pours a dose for Hoseok. “Here, take this.” He hands the plastic cup to Hoseok, “I have some peppermint tea, too. Think you can stomach it?” 

Hoseok greedily shoots back the pink liquid. He doesn’t think he can stomach the tea, but he knows that peppermint is good for stomach aches. And it would be something soothing and warm in his otherwise angry stomach. So he nods when Yoongi offers him a cup. Yoongi prepares the tea quickly, microwaving the water so it’s not too hot. It’s a drinkable temperature when Hoseok receives it. He only lets it steep for a minute, not wanting the minty flavor to be too strong. 

Hoseok settles further into the couch. Only once he’s settled does he realize that he’d never asked to stay. “Hyung, sorry. Did you need me to leave?” He secretly hopes the answer is no. He knows he’s wasted enough of Yoongi’s time this week. But being with Yoongi feels so good. Even if his stomach is still giving him hell. 

“Hobi-yah,” Yoongi sits beside the dancer, settling into the couch himself, “You never need to leave. Stay as long as you’d like. I’ll be here.” The older rapper eyes Hoseok’s bloated stomach again, listening to it gurgling in every attempt to digest. He seeks how Hoseok tries to hold back pained expressions. They were well trained to minimize any emotion that wasn’t positive. But they’ve also known each other long enough to see past those learned responses. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” 

Hoseok looks around awkwardly again and Yoongi knows it’s because Hoseok feels embarrassed. “Whatever you need, Hob-ah. Hyung will help.” 

“Could you…rub my belly. Please,” Hoseok finally asks, “It really really hurts.” It feels like a massive weight is lifted off his shoulders. 

Yoongi chuckles, “Is that all?” He finds it cute how Hoseok was so embarrassed to ask. “Of course I can.” His hand pressed against the bloated stomach. It feels hard as a rock, but he doesn’t comment and just rubs with a steady pressure. 

Hoseok hums in pleasure as Yoongi’s hand travels across his distended middle. Yoongi smiles in satisfaction. “Does that feel good, Hobi.” He chides. 

“Really good.” He lets out a soft burp, Yoongi’s rubbing finally working out some of the built pressure. He peeks at Yoongi and he doesn’t seem phased at all. So he lets himself burp openly a few more times. “Please don’t stop.”

So he doesn’t. 

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Jungkook doesn’t usually deviate from his meal plans. And if he does, he’ll make up for it with extra exercise. He cares a lot about his health, he does what he needs to do in order to take care of his body. He’s proud of his physique. He maintains it with rigorous workouts and strict diets. It doesn’t even feel like a chore to him anymore. He loves it, it’s a part of his regular routine. 

But he’s not perfect. Like anyone, he gives himself a cheat day. It’s rare. And only when he knows he has nothing major coming up on his schedule for at least a week. Because when Jungkook cheats on his diets, he cheats. Fatty meats, fried foods, heavy carbs, and sugary sweets. Anything he can get his hands on that isn’t a vegetable. Anything that isn’t on his meal plan. He fits as much as he can into his stomach in those designated 24 hours. For just one day, he wants to be lazy. He just wants to eat and relax. 

Jungkook has just finished licking the remains of fried chicken off his fingertips. Three empty take-out containers sit before him. He leans back in his chair and puts his hands on his bloated stomach, rubbing over the bulging area. He’s on the cusp of feeling uncomfortably full. Just one more bite could send him over the edge. He lets out a string of deep belches as his stomach works to digest. He hopes to make room for a delicious dessert later in the evening. 

Hunger effectively quelled, he scrolls through Netflix until he stumbles upon a new show to watch. He decides to just go with whatever’s trending at the moment; he loves to stay relevant. He’s starting the second episode when there’s a knock at his door. Jungkook stands to answer, noting that his stomach still feels heavy. He tries to take a deep breath, but his stomach is still too bloated. It hurts to expand his diaphragm. His efforts leave him belching in an attempt to make room. He shakes it off and cleans up the evidence of his feast. Just because he’s more than earned a cheat day doesn’t mean he wants anyone to know.  

It’s Jimin. Jungkook looks at him with curiosity. He’s dressed in shorts and a muscle shirt. He’s dripping with sweat and panting as he stands in the doorway. “Can I come in?” Jimin asks, already sneaking past the maknae and inviting himself inside. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at the smaller member and closes the door, “Sure, hyung, help yourself.” And so Jimin does. He rushes right to Jungkook’s kitchen and pours himself a glass of water, gulping it down greedily. The glass is empty after one go. “Did you forget to bring a water bottle?” Jimin nods, refilling the glass. He works down the second glass, smacking his lips together in satisfaction when it’s empty. 

Jungkook chuckles at his hyung, laughing any harder hurts his stomach. He goes back to the couch to resume his show. He expects Jimin to leave now that he’s hydrated. But Jimin washes the glass and sets it on the drying rack before wandering over to Jungkook. He grabs a banana on the way. “I’ve seen this. Want me to tell you how it ends?” Jimin chuckles, sitting down beside the younger member. 

“Absolutely not.” Jungkook sounds offended at the very idea. He keeps his attention on the TV. 

“Want to come run with me? I only have 5 more kilometers.” Jimin asks cutely, draping himself around Jungkook. 

Jungkook’s lip tugs in disgust. He can’t even fathom the thought of running. Just walking to and from the front door made him feel nauseous. He shakes his head, “Not today, hyung. I’m not in the mood.” 

“What’s this?” Jimin picks his head up, “Our muscle bunny doesn’t want to work out?” he teases. 

He doesn’t want Jimin to know he’s feeling nauseous. He doesn’t want Jimin to know how much he ate. He doesn’t want Jimin to know anything’s wrong. So he quickly fabricates a lie, “I already worked out this morning.” 

Jimin doesn’t want to finish the run himself. He gets bored running alone. He gets bored doing most things alone. So if he has to light a fire under Jungkook to get the company, then he will. “You scared I might be faster than you now?” he continues to tease. 

Of course Jimin’s comment ignites Jungkook’s competitive nature. If he doesn’t go, Jimin will start telling the others that Jungkook was too scared to race him. He can’t have rumors like that running around. He hates losing more than he feels nauseous. Jungkook groans, “Alright, I’ll go running with you. Let me get changed.” Jimin immediately leans off Jungkook in victory. 

Jungkook trudges to his room. He knows he’s going to regret this, but it’ll be worth it to leave Jimin in the dust. He takes off his shirt and looks at himself in the mirror. His stomach is still bloated, a noticeable curve from his otherwise chiseled physique. He rubs it; it’s still hard as a rock. He decides to wear an oversized t-shirt, so Jimin won’t notice, and his loosest pair of basketball shorts. When he bends at the waist to tie his shoes, his stomach gurgles. He knows it’s not a good sign. It’s going to feel like the longest 5k he’s ever run in his life. 

Jimin’s waiting for him to leave, this time with two water bottles in his hands. He tosses one to Jungkook when they head out. Once they’re on the trail, Jimin starts off with a jog. Jungkook’s able to keep up for a while. He grimaces at the cramps forming in his stomach, but they’re all concealed behind his mask. The running shifts the contents of Jungkook’s stomach. He has to keep his mouth closed to prevent any belches from slipping out. He catches them all in his throat and swallows them. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook makes it a full kilometer before he’s certain he’s going to vomit. His stomach is bubbling with rage inside of him. Every stride he makes sends sharp cramps throughout his entire middle. Jimin’s gotten ahead of him now yet he can’t bring himself to care. He’s hiccuping and burping more frequently, sometimes bringing up liquid with them that he quickly swallows back down. 

He has to stop. He eyes a public trash can a few meters away and wills himself just that far. If he’s going to vomit publicly, he can at least make sure it lands in a garbage bin. He stands beside the bin in anticipation. 

“What’s the matter, Kook-ah. Can’t keep up?” Jimin muses. He twists his neck to see Jungkook halted beside the trash. He’s hunched over, his mask pulled down and mouth hanging over opening. Even from several meters away, Jimin can see he’s looking positively green. He turns back and sprints toward his friend. “Jungkook-ah. Are you okay?” He asks, despite it being a stupid question. 

Jungkook clutches his aching stomach and tears spill from his eyes. He can’t control them. “No!” His whining cuts through a sob. He knew this was a bad idea. He hates being sick. God, what if someone recognizes him while he’s spewing his guts into a public bin. The media would have a field day.  

Hiccuping sobs trigger gagging. The gagging triggers retching. And the retching triggers heaving. Painful, productive, violent heaving. Thick streams of undigested food and stomach acid erupt from Jungkook’s mouth. Sheer volume doesn’t fit in his mouth and some comes out his nostrils. It burns. The waves are so large, they almost don’t make it into the opening of the bin. But he’s trying his best to avoid making any mess. 

Jimin’s reactions are instinctual. He does his best to shield the maknae from the public eye. He then pulls Jungkook long strands of hair back to prevent them from getting caught in the crossfires. He’s amazed, to be honest, how much Jungkook forces out. 10 heaves in and he’s still going strong, no sign of relenting any time soon. “Hey, hey. You’ll be okay. Get it all out.” Jimin encourages gently, although it doesn’t seem like Jungkook’s having any trouble with that. 

He’s struggling to breathe. The vomiting isn’t sparing a second to catch his breath. He can’t even take a breath through his nose because it’s filled with vomit. While in the throes of misery, he swears to himself that he will never overeat again. At this moment, he truly doubts he’ll ever want to eat again at all. He never wants to feel this gross ever again. His only solace is that he knows once he empties his stomach, he’ll feel better. But he wonders how long that will take. 

He’s thankful he has Jimin there with him. His touches help to ground him, keeping him from passing out. But he recognizes he wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place if it weren’t for Jimin. Maybe he holds a small grudge about it. 

It’s 12 long minutes of projectile vomiting before Jungkook can finally take a decent breath. And once he gets one, he greedily goes back for more. He’s panting hard; much too hard for only running one kilometer. Once he’s sure he’s empty, he lifts his head. Jimin coos, the maknae’s face is a mess with tears, snot, sweat and vomit. The older one opens his water bottle and encourages Jungkook to rinse his mouth. Jungkook does. 

“You could have just told me you were sick. I wouldn’t have made you come.” Jimin sounds apologetic as he check’s Jungkook’s forehead for a fever. Jungkook drops the grudge. Afterall, his own competitiveness lured him into Jimin’s teasing. And it was only a problem because he overate. He’s really got no one to blame but himself.  

“I’m not sick,” Jungkook explains. His voice is barely there, strained from the effort of vomiting. He takes a small sip of water to coat his sore throat. Jimin looks at him, unconvinced. Jungkook pulls off his t-shirt and pours the contents of his water bottle on the shirt. He uses it to wipe off his face. 

Jimin eyes Jungkook’s torso, noticing the bump that was once Jungkook’s flat stomach. It’s still swollen, despite how much Jungkook’s thrown up. “Jesus, Kook. How much did you eat today?” Jimin asks, starting to make sense of the situation. He presses a hand to Jungkook’s stomach. It still feels hard. 

“Too much.” Jungkook admits. He hiccups when Jimin applies a light amount of pressure. He fears he hasn’t seen the end of his meals yet. He just wants to be back in his own apartment to feel miserable in peace. “You finish your run, hyung. I’m gonna go home.” 

Jimin follows him home, afraid that Jungkook’s stomach might start up again on the way back. Jungkook expects Jimin to leave once he’s inside, but his hyung stays. He eyes the blonde vocalist as he sits back on the couch. He’s afraid he’s going to get lectured for overeating, or not following his diet plan. 

But instead, Jimin sits beside him and slips his hand under Jungkook’s shirt. “Want me to rub your tummy?” Jimin asks even though he’s already doing it. “It might help you feel better.” Jungkook just melts under his hyungs touch. Jimin’s small fingers move in comforting patterns along his aching tummy. He’s so entranced by the touch, he doesn’t even realize he’s caught a case of hiccups until Jimin starts laughing at him. “Sounds like you really overdid it, Kook.” 

Jungkook nods, “It was ch-cheat day.”