Chapter Text
A sudden brightening stirs him from sleep. He recognises it somehow; they’ve emerged from a long tunnel on the edge of their district in Seoul, the change in light always wakes him and he hates it. They’re almost home.
He hovers for a few minutes between falling back asleep and waking up, before some discomfort starts to tug him unwillingly towards wakefulness...
“Nnh...” he groans softly.
His face feels hot, his eyelids heavy, too heavy to open. His whole abdomen hurts in about three different ways, stinging and churning and heavy. He wants to move, to see if moving might relieve some of the pain, but he feels too weak, his body limp and useless.
“Mmh…?”
A sweet, musical question. Jimin’s voice, from somewhere far away.
“...’in-ah?” Yoongi rasps, his voice absolutely wrecked. Disobeying just as badly as the rest of his body.
Jimin’s hand touches Yoongi’s forehead, stroking his hair back from his face. His fingers are soft and cool, heavenly, soothing.
“I’m here, my love,” Jimin says. His voice is laced with something. Unhappy. “We’re almost home. Hobi-hyungie, take the blanket please? He’s too warm…”
Yoongi groans softly. He wants to open his eyes but when he tries, the glaring light hurts too much.
“...please...”
Something heavy is lifted from his body, but it doesn’t help much. Cool air against his face does - whooshing air, rhythmic, someone is fanning him with something.
“Are you in pain, Yoon-ah?” Jimin asks.
“...yeah,” he rasps, hating how weak and miserable his voice sounds. “...hurts like hell...”
“We’ll be home in just a few minutes,” Jimin says, stroking Yoongi’s face with those perfect, small, cool, hands. “We’ll get some medicine into you and get you settled in bed. You’ll be much more comfortable there, okay? Just a few minutes…”
“...’kay...” Yoongi mumbles, trying to concentrate on nothing but Jimin’s hands on his hot skin. “...don’ leave me...”
“I promise,” Jimin says, stroking Yoongi’s forehead over and over.
After another few minutes that feel like they stretch on forever, the car slows to a stop. Yoongi hears the familiar little click-click-screech of the security gate of their building opening, and then the car glides down the slope into the car park. Home. The car stops. Jimin unclips their seatbelts, his hands never leaving Yoongi.
“...Min-ah...?” Yoongi whispers, his head swimming and his body like lead, heavy and uncooperative.
“I’ve got you, my love,” Jimin says. “We’re home. Can you sit up for me, babe…?”
Yoongi concentrates, and drags himself up, painfully slow and panting hard, till he’s slumped sitting up against the seat of the car. A sickly sheen of sweat coats his pale skin and he can’t stop shivering even though he’s much too warm to be comfortable.
“I think he’s feverish,” Hoseok says, worried, as someone opens the car door. The cool air hits Yoongi’s face as Hoseok scrambles out first, then turns and reaches for his hand. “Come on, love. Take it slowly .”
Yoongi blinks woozily at Hoseok. The last thing he wants to do is move, but his Hobi wants him to, so he’ll try his best.
“Nnh...” he moans as he grasps Hoseok’s offered hand and starts to pull himself towards the door.
“Good boy,” Jimin murmurs, worried, shifting behind him to support him with small hands pressed against his back. “You’ve got this.”
Another car has pulled up. Yoongi can’t see them but he can feel more eyes on him. Security, drivers, his members. They’re watching him struggle.
He whimpers softly, clinging as tight as he can to Hoseok’s hand and muddily frustrated with how it’s not even that tight at all. He manages to get his legs under him and leans his weight on Jimin to get himself to his feet by the car. But just getting to his feet leaves him dizzy and shaking and panting harshly, and he’s terrified that when he takes a step, he’ll either fall or vomit or both.
He can practically hear the stitches holding his insides together screaming. The thought of vomiting right now makes him want to howl.
“Nah-ah, no way,” Hoseok says seriously, holding him up with his arms securely around him. “Get the wheelchair for him, please.”
Yoongi shakes his head, his heart racing, and hides his face in Hoseok’s shoulder.
“...’m scared...” he whimpers.
“He’d prefer to be carried,” Jimin says softly, trying to pitch his voice so just members hear him.
Hoseok cuddles him close, the smell of last night’s cologne still lingering on his clothes.
“Don’t be scared, love,” he murmurs, then lifts his voice a little to call. “Jungkookie?”
Heavy booted footsteps, a quick, focused gait. Then big, strong hands easing Yoongi out of Hoseok’s arms and into Jungkook’s, against his broad, strong chest.
“... don’ let me go...” Yoongi whispers, his head lolling heavily onto Jungkook’s shoulder. “... fuck this hurts...”
“I’ve got you!” Jungkook whispers back. Yoongi feels his hand tuck behind Yoongi’s knees and he starts to lift him into his arms with impossible care and slowness, bearing his weight easily. “Gonna try to be gentle, okay…?”
“... jus’ get me outta here...” Yoongi breathes. He’s too hot, too dizzy, too wracked with pain. He needs to be somewhere dark and cool and quiet, with just his members.
Jungkook cradles him against his chest and starts walking, his long legs moving fast and the cool air whipping against Yoongi’s skin.
“We’re right here, love!” Jimin says from behind Jungkook’s shoulder, his voice gently breathless as he walks fast to keep up. Namjoon’s voice fades into the distance; he’s in Leader mode, negotiating something, probably for them to be left alone.
Into the lift. The light is dimmer here.
He cracks his eyes open gingerly in the mercifully dim light. Sejeong and all the members. Mirrors on either side of them. Jungkook in the mirror is carrying a narrow, awkward bundle, and Yoongi catches his own eye with a sharp gasp. Ashy skin with blotchy red cheeks and stark black shadows, limp, sweaty hair, dry lips and dull eyes.
Those eyes stare back at him, lifeless and haunted - until something else comes into view - Jimin’s sweet face, smiling quietly. His hand comes up to stroke Yoongi’s hair.
“Gonna be okay, Yoon-ah,” he murmurs. Jungkook squeezes him gently, cuddling him like a cat. “We’ll get you straight to bed, and you’ll never be alone.”
Yoongi nods, closing his eyes again as the motion makes his head spin sickeningly.
“... scared,” he whispers again.
“Joonie, we think he’s running a fever,” Hoseok is murmuring from somewhere close by. Yoongi shivers, the sounds resolving only slowly into words. “He needs the nurse, sooner rather than later.”
“They’re already here to set up the place, they’ll check him out,” Namjoon whispers back. “Don’t want him back in hospital.”
Yoongi whimpers, scared.
“It’s okay, Yoon-ah,” Jungkook murmurs in Yoongi’s ear. “You’re strong. We’ll look after you.”
“...don’ feel strong,” he mumbles.
The lift bell rings and the doors open smoothly. Jungkook carries Yoongi smoothly down the elegant corridor to their big penthouse apartment, the front door already standing open. More staff inside. Namjoon pulls ahead and asks them firmly for some privacy, and the members fall wordlessly into formation around Jungkook and Yoongi to hide him from view. Jungkook sweeps past them and makes straight for Yoongi’s bedroom, Jimin’s hand soft in Yoongi’s.
There’s a case of medical supplies on the side table, and an IV stand by the bed, but Yoongi doesn’t care about anything but his wide, dark bed with the soft grey sheets.
“Close the curtains, please?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin immediately moves to do so.
Taehyung flicks on a soft lamp next to the bed as the room darkens around them. Hoseok pulls back the covers and Jungkook eases Yoongi down on the sheets. Someone immediately starts to pull off his sneakers. Yoongi’s breath quickens. He feels so very helpless, entirely at the mercy of whoever’s in the room.
“Min-ah...?” he rasps nervously.
“I’m right here,” Jimin says, and Yoongi feels him suddenly scramble over Yoongi, careful and quick, to sit on the other side of the big bed, holding his hand. “I won’t–”
“Let me through to my patient, please,” a new voice suddenly says - an older woman, her tone cool and commanding, no-nonsense.
“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, turning his face to Jimin. “...want to be alone, just us...” he whines under his breath.
“This will only take a few minutes,” Jimin says, leaning in to speak confidentially to Yoongi. His voice has dipped into his firm, warmly dominant tone. “Hold my hand, and endure this for me. And you’ll be all mine again once it’s over…”
“...all yours,” Yoongi agrees, clinging to Jimin’s hand.
“We’re right here, Yoon-ah,” Namjoon says, and Yoongi sees his shadow at the end of the bed, standing tall and strong, guarding him like a sentry as the nurse comes to his side. The others step back against the wall, their eyes on him.
“Hyung became feverish on the way home,” Jimin says to the nurse. “He’s weak, hot to the touch, finding it hard to stand.”
Yoongi shudders as the nurse leans in and pulls his hoodie up to check his bandages, his wound. Jimin squeezes Yoongi’s hand, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb.
“Some inflammation,” she says. “The doctor prescribed antibiotics, I’ll give him the first dose in an IV, then he can take the rest of the course by mouth, unless he gets worse. If he’s not improved in eight hours, he’ll have to go to hospital anyway.”
Yoongi can do nothing but lie limp on the bed as she talks over his head.
“How long will it take to kick in?” Namjoon asks.
“A few hours,” the nurse says. “In the meantime, he’ll need fluids, which the drip will help with, and to be kept as comfortable as possible. Warm blankets, cold compresses. If his temperature gets more than a degree higher or he becomes non-responsive, you need to call an ambulance.”
She settles his hoodie back into place and draws his sweatpants down to check his thigh. He’s too weak to squirm but his stomach flips at the humiliation.
“Easy, please,” Jimin says gently, squeezing his hand again. Namjoon shifts from foot to foot, his eyes fixed on her.
Yoongi tolerates her examination, trembling and keeping his eyes closed, his heart beating fast.
She simply hums and moves to pull his sweatpants up again, but Jimin immediately takes over instead, gentle but decisive. He eases them back into place while she inserts the line into the port in Yoongi’s hand, his skin mottled and bruised, and sets up his medicine.
“Breathe, love,” Jimin murmurs to him, his voice like silk over steel.
Yoongi nods meekly, keeping his eyes closed.
The nurse delivers more instructions to Namjoon and Seokjin, but her voice is fading away. She’ll be staying with their security team on the floor below, quick to come if they need her, but they’ll be alone in their space. Finally the door closes.
“Minnie and I will take the first shift with Yoonie,” Namjoon says softly. “Anyone else who needs to shower and change and get settled, go and do that now, and come back here. Yoonie needs quiet and calm to rest, but we can all be together with him.”
“I’ll bring you something to eat,” Seokjin says.
Yoongi hears them kiss, just before something comes to rest on his forehead, soft and blissfully cold. He moans softly, his eyelashes fluttering as he gingerly opens his eyes again.
“...safe?” he mumbles.
Jimin smiles down at him in the low light, stroking his hand.
“Safe, all of us,” he says softly. “We’re home and we’re safe. You can rest now, our brave soldier.”
“Min-ah...” Yoongi says, blinking dopily up at him. His head is spinning and he’s far too hot. “Min-ah... turn off the heat... good boy...”
“Yes, hyungnim,” Jimin says, glancing to Namjoon. Hoseok passes Jimin a brochure from something or other and Jimin uses it to fan Yoongi’s flushed face. “You’re hot stuff, hyungnim! Always were…”
Yoongi huffs softly at that, vaguely pleased.
“Help...” he mumbles, his good hand fisting weakly in his hoodie. “Help me...”
“Okay, sweetheart,” Namjoon says, taking Yoongi’s wrist in his big hand and gently easing his hand away and up. “Hands up for me and I’ll take this off for you. Nice and gentle, no sudden movements.”
Jimin leans in to carefully disconnect the IV, sliding the needle from the port the way the nurse taught him earlier.
Yoongi focuses on Namjoon and does his best to obey, raising his arms, slow and stiff and weak.
“Very good,” Namjoon praises him, his voice a low, deep rumble, as he eases the hoodie off over Yoongi’s arms and head, his limp hair damp with sweat. “Such a good, obedient boy for Sir.”
“Sir...” Yoongi mumbles, letting his arms slide back down, limp as wet ramyeon.
“Does that feel a little better…?” Jimin asks gently, helping Namjoon to ease Yoongi back down to the pillow. Yoongi’s chest is gleaming with sweat in the low light, the edges of the bandages damp.
“Do the...” Yoongi says, offering his hand with the port.
“Thanks, babe,” Jimin whispers, gratefully taking Yoongi’s hand and fitting the needle back into the port with a delicate touch. “There, all done…”
“Tied down again...” Yoongi grumbles softly, his eyelashes fluttering.
Namjoon chuckles, as Jimin kisses Yoongi’s cheek and turns over the cool pack on Yoongi’s forehead, the fresh side colder and so good.
“If anyone can turn this pain into pleasure, it’s us, little cat,” Namjoon says, stroking his hand down Yoongi’s arm.
“... please...” Yoongi begged, looking up through the haze of heat and pain to Namjoon. “... fuck me up ...”
Namjoon glances to Jimin and sinks his hand into Yoongi’s hair, twisting gently to sting.
“You gonna take what Sir gives you, boy?” he growls quietly.
Yoongi’s breath hitches.
“Yes Sir...!” he gasps, blinking rapidly up at Namjoon.
“You’re my beautiful little doll,” Namjoon growls, a wolfish grin on his lips. “Obedient and posable and delicate as porcelain… isn’t that true, Yoon-ah?”
Yoongi whines helplessly, and nods.
“Oh, hyungnim makes the best little porcelain doll...” Jimin says, a pretty growl in his voice.
“You look good like this,” Namjoon purrs, tracing a fingertip down Yoongi’s chest. “Sweating and limp, like I’ve just ridden you hard and filthy . Is that how you feel, doll…?”
Yoongi blushes, nodding shyly.
“Y-yeah, Sir...” he whispers. “Feel absolutely wrecked...”
“And helpless too,” Namjoon says, taking Yoongi’s jaw in his hand to make him hold eye contact. “Yes…? I want to hear it.”
“C-completely helpless...” Yoongi agrees, nodding and burning hot. “...at your mercy...”
Jimin hums and strokes Yoongi’s hand, approving and comforting.
“And can you trust my mercy, boy?” Namjoon asks, pinning Yoongi down with his gaze.
“Uh...” Yoongi rasps, wetting his dry lips. “...doesn’t matter, Sir. I trust Sir, whether or not he shows mercy...”
“Very good, little one,” Namjoon purrs proudly, loosening his grip on Yoongi’s hair to pet instead. “You’re thirsty.”
“Here,” Seokjin says from behind him, passing an open bottle of water to Namjoon. “Little cat will take what Sirs give him.”
Yoongi hums his agreement, opening his mouth without prompting.
“Oh, he’ll take anything, such a good pet...” Jimin purrs.
“He’s so submissive…” Namjoon says, proud and pleased, as he cups the back of Yoongi’s head and offers a short sip of cool water to his parched lips.
Yoongi blinks chidingly up at Namjoon, but he takes what he’s given without protest, swallowing the heavenly water.
Namjoon and Seokjin both chuckle, exchanging a look, as Namjoon carefully offers sips of water.
“Beautiful with it too,” Seokjin says fondly. “And all ours…”
“We’re lucky,” Jimin breathes.
Yoongi feels smug at that, and he knows it shows on his face as he sips the water. It makes him almost enjoy the pain and his spinning head.
“Perfect…” Seokjin murmurs, reaching to stroke Yoongi’s hair. “Something to eat for him?”
“Not yet,” Namjoon says, authoritative and sure. “He needs to rest for now.”
“And you’ll abide by the Boss’s decision, won’t you, beautiful?” Jimin asked, satisfied, stroking Yoongi’s pink cheek.
“...’course I will,” Yoongi mumbles softly.
“What’s that?” Namjoon hands the bottle to Seokjin and trails his fingertips, cool with condensation, down Yoongi’s bare chest. “I didn’t hear you…”
His cool fingers capture Yoongi’s sensitive nipple and pinch firmly, a sharp little shock. Yoongi sucks in a breath.
“Sub submits to the Boss’s decision!” he says earnestly, blinking up.
“Very good,” Namjoon purrs, releasing Yoongi’s sore nipple and stroking it briefly with the cool pad of his thumb, a bare little mercy. “Close your eyes and rest, boy. Your sweet nurse will stay by your side to look after you, and your Sir will guard you. You’re safe. We all are.”
Yoongi nods, blinking his eyes closed and tightening his grip on Jimin.
“Min-ah... close...”
Jimin curls up on his side next to Yoongi and snuggles down, still holding his hand.
“Always close, my love,” he murmurs. “Safe and close.”
“Good... my good boy...” he murmurs. Yoongi feels as though he’s drifting in hot water. “... and my Doms...”
“Watching over you, baby,” Seokjin purrs, and Namjoon hums his agreement, warm and satisfied.
Yoongi sinks into sleep...
...but he’s restless, twitching and stirring. He’s caught between sleeping and waking, the room close and stifling around him...
Something’s coming.
Someone’s coming.
Yoongi draws in a ragged breath, tense. Jimin is close, he can feel him, Jimin is so soft and small and everything hurts so much that Jimin must be in pain and Yoongi needs to protect him...
A sound at the door.
They’re close now.
A shadow above him.
They’re here.
Yoongi screams, flinging himself between the dark figure and his little Jimin, and pain explodes in his side and shit, this all happened before, and he’s gonna bleed and suffer and be stripped bare in front of everyone, in front of strangers and ARMY and everyone...
Jimin cries out right behind him, terrified, heartbroken. The shadow seems to engulf Yoongi, looming over him - big, strong hands grab his shoulders and force him down, down - Namjoon? Where is Namjoon - he’s on his back again, and Jimin is scared… so Yoongi fights, weak and clumsy and useless, fucking useless, he’s not able to protect Jimin like this...
He reaches out blindly, grabbing for Jimin, a weak and breathless scream tearing from his throat...
“It’s okay!” Jimin sounds like he’s sobbing. Pain stabs at Yoongi’s stomach. Has he been stabbed again? “It’s alright, hyungnim, don’t be scared…!”
“Run, Min-ah--” Yoongi gasps, clutching his stomach. “Hyung c-can’t keep you safe--”
“Easy, Yoon-ah,” Namjoon’s voice says, deep and dominant. Yoongi freezes, vaguely feeling like he must obey. “Take it easy. You’re safe.”
“It’s alright, hyungnim!” Jimin’s hand is on Yoongi’s forehead. He’d know it anywhere.
“But... but...” Yoongi whimpers softly, his head snapping back and forth as he tries to figure out where the threat is...
“Steady, love!” Jimin is pleading with him, cupping his face with both hands now, trying to still his head.
Namjoon is there, close, leaning over him.
A shadow appears behind Namjoon, tall, broad, coming for him, and another high, shrill scream tears from Yoongi’s throat. He’s knocking Jimin back and forcing himself up, fighting with everything he has left to get between that shadow and his Jiminie, his Joonie, protect them with his limp, bleeding body if it kills him--
“Please, hyungnim!” Jimin cries, his voice cracking with terror.
Namjoon pins Yoongi down as he thrashes, his stomach hurts, his hand hurts, he smells blood in the air, then the strawberry of Jimin’s lipbalm as Jimin kisses him…
“Mmn...” Yoongi moans into the kiss.
His heart is racing in terror, but his body is responding automatically to Namjoon’s hands and Jimin’s lips, softening in surrender to what they want from him, despite his confused fears.
Jimin hums, a high little sound, stroking Yoongi’s cheeks with his thumbs as he deepens the kiss. It tastes of desperation and love, and Yoongi slowly loses himself in it... His terror unwinds, he stops fighting... Jimin is safe, Jimin is love... The pain is bad... He lets go... back into the darkness.
Jimin slowly eases back from the kiss once Yoongi is completely limp and his breathing has evened out again. Jimin is shaking badly, he looks up at Namjoon immediately for reassurance.
“Well done, sweetheart,” Namjoon whispers, reaching to stroke Jimin’s hair. “You knew just what hyung needed…”
“H-he wouldn’t have accepted it if you hadn’t held him down,” Jimin whispers back, his tears welling again. Namjoon had to pin Yoongi to the bed, press his weight down on Yoongi’s narrow, pale, half-bare body as Yoongi thrashed and fought. “Don’t know how you could bear it...”
“I hate seeing him like this,” Namjoon grimaces, tears in his own eyes. “Do we call for the nurse, Jin-hyung?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “Or is this just the fever running its course?”
“He’s always had bad dreams when he’s sick,” Jin says softly, creeping closer. It didn’t escape him that Yoongi panicked when first Namjoon and then Jin came closer, but he’s completely out of it now, fast asleep. “I think we could hold off, if his temperature isn’t any higher than it was...”
“Hyung would really hate anyone to see him like this...” Jimin whispers, biting his lip. “He’s already been so exposed, painfully so...”
“Yeah, he really hated the wheelchair,” Namjoon groans, dragging a hand over his eyes. “But we didn’t have a choice. And he’s weaker now than he was then… I think it’s all catching up to him…”
Jin gently takes Yoongi’s temperature under his arm and shows the other two; same as it was when the nurse was here.
“At least he didn’t pull the line out or anything,” Jimin whispers, carefully checking the port in Yoongi’s hand.
“Or tear his stitches, I think,” Namjoon says, peering at the bandages on Yoongi’s stomach.
“Jiminie, do you need to take a break…?” Jin asks gently. “You wanna shower or get some fresh air? He seems peaceful now…”
Jimin shakes his head quickly.
“No, please,” he says, his tears welling in his eyes again as he looks up at the other two. “Hyungnim asked me to stay, he keeps asking me to stay. What if he wakes and I’m not here? Please don’t make me go.”
“We won’t make you,” Namjoon says carefully, reaching to stroke Jimin’s hair. “But when he wakes up and we can explain to him where you’ve gone, you’re to go and look after yourself. Got it…?”
“Yes Boss,” Jimin answers, relieved. “Thank you, Boss, thank you, hyung.”
Yoongi stirs in his sleep and all their attention snaps to him in an instant, tense, but he just snuffles softly and keeps sleeping, his face drawn with pain but his sleep undisturbed.
“…Submission helps him,” Namjoon whispers. “But dominating him like this feels… I dunno. Right and wrong. Hard and easy.”
“You’re helping him so much,” Jimin says, slipping his free hand into Namjoon’s. “He even needed to be subby for me, in the car. Submission is getting him through this and you send him down the easiest, Boss.”
Namjoon lets out a slow breath, squeezing Jimin’s small hand.
“Thanks, babydoll,” he murmurs. “I’ll give him whatever he needs, whatever I can give. I know that I’m not taking advantage.”
“No no!” Jimin says, his face opening up earnestly. “You’re not, no way. You would never, and we would never let you. Yoongi-hyung would never let you, or let any of us. He’s just as scared and vulnerable with the medical people and our staff, but he doesn’t submit to them. Only to us. He bears it all, and then he lets us, just us, take it away from him for a little while.”
“Right,” Namjoon murmurs, as Jin puts a hand on his shoulder. “He submits only because he chooses to. If he doesn’t want to give it, nobody can take it from him by force.”
“Absolutely not,” Jimin agrees firmly.
There’s a soft knock on the door and Hoseok slips inside.
“We heard him screaming,” he says without preamble, looking anxiously at Yoongi. “The kids are pretty upset. Think it’d be better or worse for him if we all come in here?”
“Turn up the lights a little, and bring them in,” Jin says, glancing to Jimin for confirmation. “And maybe keep our distance. I think waking up with a crowd coming around him won’t help…”
“But he wants us all together,” Jimin agrees, nodding firmly.
He gently lies down, on Yoongi’s less injured side, careful not to get anything tangled in the IV line, and curls in close to Yoongi. Yoongi sighs softly, his head lolling gently towards Jimin.
Hoseok turns and beckons, and there’s a quiet shuffle before the two maknaes peer around the door, dressed in soft pyjamas and looking worried.
“Is he…?” Taehyung whispers.
“Come in, babe,” Namjoon says softly, beckoning them and pointing them to the sofa. “Let’s be together while he’s resting. Everyone okay…?”
Jungkook makes beeline for Namjoon, perching on the arm of his chair, while Taehyung clings to Hoseok, the pair of them awkwardly making their way to the sofa. Jin joins them, settling on Taehyung’s other side, rubbing his back as Taehyung cuddles close to Hoseok.
“He had a bad dream?” Jungkook asks Namjoon in his softest whisper, sitting on his hands with great purpose.
“Yeah, baby,” Namjoon answers, rubbing Jungkook’s thigh. “A really bad one. But Jiminie calmed him down, and see, he’s sleeping peacefully now. He’s alright.”
“He always has nightmares when he’s feverish,” Jin says, for everyone. “He’ll be fine.”
“He’ll be fine,” Jungkook echoes nervously.
“Jiminie always knows how to make hyung feel better,” Hoseok smiles.
“Can I sleep?” Taehyung asks, nuzzling into Hoseok’s embrace.
“Of course, baby,” Jin says, stroking Taehyung’s hair from behind. “Anyone who can should. We all need our rest if we’re going to look after our Yoongichi.”
Jimin hums his agreement, closing his own eyes. Yoongi still feels too hot, but his breathing is quiet and even, and Jimin is desperately tired.
Sleep pulls him down quickly, and either the quiet murmur of the other members’ conversation dies out or simply doesn’t penetrate his exhaustion anymore. He slips into a quiet doze, everything starts to feel better… until it doesn’t.
He drifts between waking and sleeping, his brow creasing. Something’s wrong... Something’s wrong with Yoongi...
The slightest change in the pace of his hyungnim’s breathing, catching, quickening. A twitch in his fingers. Everything is quiet… a soft whine in his throat…
“Nnh... hush, ’sokay,” Jimin mumbles, his rising concern struggling against the heavy pull of sleep.
“Mmh…?” Namjoon’s voice hums, questioning.
Yoongi lets out a huff of breath. His fingers flex and twitch again. Jimin manages to push himself up on his elbow, and sees Yoongi’s face creased in pain and distress. Another nightmare.
“Hyungnim, it’s okay, we’re here, we’re safe,” Jimin whispers anxiously.
“Oh…” Namjoon breathes, leaning forward.
Yoongi’s breath starts to come fast and shallow, a slow, terrible wail falling from his lips and jolting everyone to attention. But Jimin is right there, pressing a loving kiss to Yoongi’s parted lips, stroking his hair with one hand, the other planted firmly on Yoongi’s chest.
Jin hugs Taehyung closer, Jungkook stirs from sleep on Namjoon’s lap, Hoseok and Taehyung cling tighter to one another’s hands.
And Yoongi slowly settles again. His wail, muffled by Jimin’s kiss, softening to a thready little whine, and then to nothing. His long fingers curl into Jimin’s clothes, and he lets out a long sigh, slipping back into full sleep.
Everyone is a little on edge for a time after that, but mostly too worn out to fret aloud. They settle around him again and doze off, one by one…