Chapter Text
Yoongi’s heart picks up as he struts to his door, clutching his cardigan tighter in an attempt to calm his nerves down.
It’s not like he’s never been with Jimin alone. In their group, the pair always seem to come earlier than the others for their weekly dinners, always falling into friendly yet shallow small talk (That counts right?). Their apartment complexes are also right next to each other, compared to their friends’ who live in the next neighbourhood, having walked to their respective buildings together from the train station many times. The quick two-minute distance to Yoongi’s building never allows them to exchange more than see you soon or good night . But it would be a blatant lie to say that Yoongi and Jimin have taken initiative to hang out just the two of them, despite their units being an eight-minute walk away.
So when he messaged Namjoon last night to cancel their plans, he didn’t expect to meet anyone on this windy Sunday afternoon. Let alone, Jimin. At his apartment.
Hyung, I heard you’re sick. Are you okay?
Yoongi thought his eyes were fooling him when his blurry vision tried to focus on the bright device; he only expected the usual don’t worry hyung, take care type of replies from Namjoon–which was there–but right on top came from a contact who rarely takes up space on his lock screen. His high fever wasn’t helping Yoongi either, as he tried to come up with an appropriate response to Jimin while blindly searching for medicine on his bedside table. The darkness of his room indicates it probably hasn’t been long since he first tried sleeping.
It only takes several swipes to cover the entirety of Jimin and Yoongi’s private chat history. If you asked a stranger to decipher their relationship, distant coworkers or even acquaintances wouldn’t be surprising answers.
As a more reserved person, it’s in Yoongi’s nature to have a small circle of friends (Yes, he counts Jungkook–his cousin–as one of them). Meeting Namjoon and Hoseok through a random elective class at university is one of his fondest memories, as they all had thought the course was an easy pass. In fact, it led to countless late nights either at the library or their apartments; naturally, the presence of the two became a constant warmth in Yoongi’s life.
And when Jungkook moved in with Yoongi to save costs on college dorms, the younger quickly warmed up to Namjoon and Hoseok. It’s not like a freshman would decline free dinners—sometimes even at fancier places when Yoongi’s pay day comes.
Jungkook and Yoongi’s respective circles didn’t meet formally nor did they mix all at once. It was not until years after Jungkook graduated did Yoongi realise his cousin’s close friends. Although Jungkook and Taehyung became acquaintances in a weekly football meetup at university, they did not reconnect until meeting in the same improv class at a local theatre when Jungkook was thinking of quitting his 9-to-5.
When Jungkook forgot some plans with Taehyung one day, Yoongi thought it was right to invite the latter to the barbeque night he’s hosting to meet the faceless person that his cousin mentions all the time. Since Taehyung was the type to make friends easily with anyone, it was a sight to watch the blonde-haired amateur actor and an alcohol-filled Hoseok already making inside jokes thirty minutes into meeting each other.
When Jungkook and Taehyung wrapped up their first play, that’s when the group suddenly had two additional members: Seokjin and Jimin. Seokjin previously starred in various plays but he made the transition to writing originals. Whereas, Jimin was hired as a part-time photographer before they got busier.
Somehow, as Seokjin’s play gained more attention, tickets being sold out within minutes, Jungkook practically dragged Yoongi (who then dragged Namjoon and Hoseok) to help out with menial tasks like painting props, fixing lights and ordering the crew food for late night practice. So it was gradual yet comfortable; the way the seven friends became closer and weekly dinners became a thing.
Yoongi must admit though, even though he was content with just three close friends, it’s been really fun with the other guys as well. It’s only been four months but he feels comfortable with Taehyung, Seokjin and Jimin.
But… an itching feeling lingers with the latter.
Yoongi observes people quite well. He knows that Jimin is extroverted and chatty when he’s close with someone. He knows Jimin warmed up with Namjoon and Hoseok faster than he did with him. Yoongi knows Jimin’s kind of like Taehyung’s character in how he can make friends with anyone effortlessly. And he knows that he’s not the easiest person to get close to.
Yoongi tries, though.
Yoongi has initiated a lot of conversations with Jimin, probably more than he has with his past friendships. And of course Jimin talks to him a lot. Still, Yoongi feels there’s a wall between them that they haven’t broken.
Yoongi doesn’t think about it a lot. Maybe it’s just in his head, he argues to himself.
But whenever he sees Jimin jumping cheerfully at Hoseok as their greeting or Namjoon casually mentioning an impromptu bike ride with the younger along the river, a small ugly feeling shrivels inside of Yoongi. Sure, Yoongi isn’t the most expressive or physically affectionate person; Yoongi still thinks his friendships are intimate in their own way. But with Jimin, it hasn’t reached a deeper level at all.
Yoongi hasn’t mentioned this to anyone. How would he explain? What would they even say? It does bother him a bit, but he’s not exactly sure what he wants. For now, it’s not uncomfortable, so it’s fine. Maybe his relationship with Jimin is just a bit different, he rationalises.
Let’s just act as usual, Yoongi affirms.
So he texts back after who-knows-how-long (34 minutes to be exact):
Hey, Jimin-ah. Yeah, just a fever.
He checks the clock to see it is 5:58 am. But the uncomfortable heat surrounding his body makes him shut his phone, hoping the meds would do their magic.
Why did Namjoon tell him? Yoongi tries not to think about why Jimin would text him. Tries not to open his phone to see when the message was sent.
The drowsy effect of the medicine successfully knocked Yoongi out for four hours. However, weakness still hugs Yoongi’s body, even more so now. The fever hasn’t reduced either.
With heavy eyelids, Yoongi opens his phone, expecting a certain reply from someone.
But, nothing.
Yoongi shuts down his earlier theories as a pinch of disappointment seeps in his chest. He ignores it by getting out of bed.
He thinks it’s the common flu; he did hear about some coworkers getting sick recently. A long, warm shower temporarily eases his discomfort, but suddenly he feels way hotter. Yoongi opts to lay down in his unmade bed, trying to sleep again after taking more meds. He assumes it hasn’t been long before he shuffles in the sheets uncomfortably once more.
Just as he’s about to doze off, he hears a distant buzz reverberating in the silence of his room. His bones feel like putty, hand messing up his bed sheets more as he blindly searches for his phone. With one eye lazily opened, he slowly processes the unexpected ringer.
Trying to fight off the fever-muddled haziness, Yoongi simply stares at the caller’s name. He realised this would be the first time ever in his life that he would have a phone call with Park Jimin.
“He-hello?” Yoongi quickly clears his throat. Ugh, he’s feeling something coming on there, too.
“Hyung, hey. It’s Jimin.” The truth is, hearing the soft and gentle voice soothes Yoongi a whole lot. “I texted you but I thought maybe you were sleeping.”
Huh? Yoongi probably missed it when he knocked out again. He’s starting to get distracted by his racing heartbeat when the younger replies hastily.
“So…Um- I actually wanted to give you some medicine. I can head over to yours.” There’s a hint of uncertainty in Jimin’s voice. It’s much softer and more quiet than what Yoongi’s used to when they hang out with the others.
Then all of a sudden, Yoongi feels a tinge of panic at the younger’s offer. Of course Jimin has been to Yoongi’s apartment many times, even just the two of them briefly; once when they came back to get Taehyung’s coat. Okay, it’s never been a prolonged time when it’s them alone. The thought of it makes Yoongi super nervous, because as he’s said, Jimin and Yoongi aren’t the closest duo. It might get a bit awkward, perhaps.
But Jimin, being the kindest person Yoongi has ever come across, is literally offering to help him. Whenever someone in the group needs a hand, Yoongi always remembers Jimin’s genuine effort to give advice or offer to go hands-on to help them. That’s just who Jimin is.
“Ohh. No, really it’s fine.” Yoongi pauses to let out a cough away from the phone. “I– I got some already.” The older cringes at how low his voice suddenly got. Maybe he should just accept Jimin’s help. Damn.
The line is silent for a while, and Yoongi tries to clear his throat again quietly. He winces because it’s clear that it was heard.
“Hyung, i-it’s okay I was at the pharmacy anyway.” Jimin’s voice is still small and hesitant and Yoongi feels guilt running up his spine. “I’ll come to yours in a bit, alright?”
Wanting to make the younger feel appreciated and uplifted, Yoongi tries his best to express his genuine gratitude. “Okay. Really thank you, Jimin-ah…”
“It’s okay, hyung…See you soon, yeah?” Yoongi realises the younger can’t see his small smile so he hums and bids farewell. After they end the call, he wonders if the heat travelling up his neck is a sign of his meds not working. Good thing Jimin is coming.
Wait–
Yoongi’s head jerks to the state of his apartment. Fuck.
A sudden rush of adrenaline is the only reason Yoongi powers through his fever to clean up most of his mess left from last night’s dinner and the gazillion random things on his dinner table. He doesn’t expect Jimin to enter his apartment, but he hopes the younger doesn’t go anywhere near his bedroom. And his bathroom. God . Nobody should be allowed there.
Jimin said he would be here in ‘a bit’ but it’s been fifteen minutes and there’s still no signs of the younger. Yoongi squints when he opens his curtains to try to find Jimin walking on the streets, he’s not even sure that’s the path the younger takes.
For a brief moment, Yoongi thinks of changing his outfit since he has more time. But then his intercom rings, making him jump at the sound.
He sees the device light up, Jimin’s big eyes wandering at the camera. The wind brushes his brown hair, covering his curious eyes, and Yoongi wants to let Jimin inside quickly cause it looks cold.
“Hyung?”
“Come–” A sudden cough interrupts him. “Come in.” Yoongi presses the button to let the younger in as he blushes red in embarrassment. That doesn’t stop him from peering at Jimin’s comfy outfit of a black and orange bomber jacket and comfy grey sweatpants.
Oh- it’s actually Yoongi’s jacket that he gave Jimin when the weather suddenly got chilly during their movie night. Yoongi even forgot to ask for it back, but it looks better on Jimin anyway, he muses.
It’s… great that Jimin seems to like it, too. The thought brings about a tightening sensation within Yoongi’s insides. Yoongi brushes it off as quickly when he looks down at his outfit. No time to change now, his usual black cardigan and sweatpants seem fine though. The silly green and purple dinosaur socks Hoseok gifted him are luckily hidden underneath his slippers. He ruffles his hair in front of the intercom’s reflection in an attempt to tame it down, before another doorbell ring resounds.
A deep breath, two, three and he opens the door.
“Hi, Yoongi-hyung.” Jimin's smile is small and a bit shy, his eyes crinkling.
Maybe it’s the wind from outside. Maybe it’s the endearing expression on Jimin’s face. Whatever the reason, Yoongi unexpectedly feels a chilling shudder make its way up his spine.
“Hey, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi hopes his smile looks normal enough, but his fever is acting up again and his body is telling him to lay down. Good thing he cleaned up his living room so he weakly mumbles, “C’mon in.”
Yoongi knows he’s not being the best host, but he’s at least close enough to Jimin to just plop down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. God, he’s burning up again.
He clutches his cardigan tighter around him as he feels the younger’s presence sit next to him, a safe distance between them. Yoongi unconsciously rubs his sock-clad feet together in an attempt to soothe himself, closing his eyes to focus on his breaths. He doesn’t notice Jimin shuffling closer and inching his hand to touch Yoongi’s forehead.
“Shit– hyung. You’re so hot.” Jimin’s hand presses a bit harder before making its way to Yoongi’s left cheek and then the side of his neck. Yoongi’s brain wants to fathom how this is probably the first time Jimin’s ever touched him like this, or been this physically close, but he just can’t focus on anything right now. He grabs a nearby pillow and hugs it tight against his chest as he sags into the sofa’s cushion.
The warmth of the younger’s hands disappears and he hears the rumpling of a plastic bag. “Have you eaten, hyung?”
“...No.” Yoongi admits guiltily.
“Here, I brought you some soup. It’s from the new restaurant across the street.” Yoongi remembers he mentioned the new place to the group maybe a month ago when it just opened, but never having the time to try it yet.
Jimin’s thoughtful gesture tugs at–what Yoongi finally registers as–his heartstrings. Yoongi’s a sucker for acts of service as a love language, that’s the best way he can express how he cares for others. And he’s been at the end of it, too, luckily. Even with Jimin.
Finally opening his eyes again to see Jimin sat on the floor arranging the food containers on the coffee table, right here in his living room, just the two of them; it feels just a bit more tender than usual.
The heaviness of his body makes him want to sag more into the plush couch, but when Jimin looks back at him, Yoongi sees how the younger’s cheeks and tip of his nose are coloured with a light pink blush. It’s not as pigmented as Jimin’s plump rosy lips, though.
How beautiful, Yoongi says in his head.
Fuck– What?
Thankfully, Jimin interrupts his thoughts by urging him to start eating. “C’mon, let’s eat, hyung.” The small smile returns to the younger’s face, eyes glinting with a trace of worry but Yoongi shifts his focus to forcing his body away from the sofa onto the space next to Jimin.
Jimin pushes a bowl of hot egg drop soup and Yoongi can’t help being enticed by the delicious smell.
“Hmm.” Yoongi hums as he takes the first swallow, the liquid soothing his dry throat.
“Good?”
“Ye-” Another cough. “Yeah. Thank you for this, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi thanks him without looking away from the soup.
From his peripheral vision, he sees Jimin promptly disappearing into his kitchen. The brunette comes back with two cups of water. Just like destiny, that’s when Yoongi’s body decides to let out a series of dry coughs. The older faces away, coughing into his elbow. His lungs kinda give out when he’s done as he wheezes, trying to calm down. Yoongi feels the soothing rubs against his back throughout it all, his body still facing away from Jimin, now more self-aware at how noisy his breaths are.
“Drink first, hyung, it’s warm water.” Jimin settles closer to him and hands him the cup.
Yoongi and Jimin eat in silence, except for the loud coughs echoing in the room. The latter’s hand never leaves Yoongi’s back, and the older is quietly grateful.
Although Yoongi didn’t feel hungry before, he almost finishes the soup before he feels the fever creeping back, setting him into unease again. Sensing this, Jimin grabs a couple of flu medicine and explains how much he should take.
“This one is for your cough. Jin-hyung actually recommended this brand. You drink three pills each time, three times a day. And this one's for your fever. I also got these others–”
Yoongi takes them without any protest, trying his best to keep listening to Jimin’s gentle voice despite the heavy feeling overcoming again. He misses the younger’s concerned look as he drinks the different pills, grimacing at the bitter taste.
“I- Thank you, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi croaks. “You didn’t have to do all of this, but I really appreciate it.”
The frown on Jimin’s lips dissipates a bit as he replies with a quiet it’s okay.
“Sorry– I think I need to lie down. Feel like shit.” Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut as he slowly pulls himself up, hands white from gripping the couch.
Without saying, Jimin stays close as Yoongi shuffles to his bedroom, hand hovering his hyung’s back through the soft material of his cardigan. At this point, Yoongi has forgotten about the prospect of Jimin seeing the mess of his room. He just needs to fucking lie down.
The way Yoongi slumps carelessly onto the bunch of strewn sheets and pillows makes Jimin’s frown appear again, but the older’s eyes are screwed shut with a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. He’s so out of it.
“Where do you put your washcloths?” Jimin whispers and guilt creeps up Yoongi’s chest as he mumbles and points weakly at his closet.
What they’re doing– it’s odd. They've never been together alone this long, especially with this kind of atmosphere. It’s quiet and serene, maybe a slight sense of uncertainty and a tiny hint of awkwardness but Yoongi really doesn’t care.
He also doesn't care anymore when he hears water running in his bathroom. But he cares when a refreshing cold meets his burning forehead, a relieved sigh leaving his lips. “Hmm…”
His face goes entirely slack when another cold washcloth is lightly dabbed against his neck. Jimin pats it around, low enough to go under his shirt and Yoongi starts to open his eyes. Yoongi wouldn’t have guessed that he would ever be someone being taken care of so gently by Park Jimin. Let alone the reason for the sight of Park Jimin with knitted eyebrows, pursed lips and a tense jaw. Yoongi thinks nobody should ever make the most kind hearted person look upset like this.
But, God, he still looks pretty.
When Jimin’s deep dusky eyes meet his, Yoongi wheezes unattractively as a breath catches in his throat.
He doesn’t remember the last time he felt so delicate. So cherished.
So loved .
“Wh-what else do you need, hyung?” Jimin clears his throat as an alarm sets off in Yoongi’s brain.
“Jimin-ah, thank you so much, but you should go,” Yoongi bluntly says and Jimin’s hand comes to a stop but thankfully the older rushes to continue, “I– I mean I’m worried you might get sick, too.”
At the contact of the damp washcloth against his neck again, relief fills Yoongi as he didn’t say the wrong thing. The relief bubbles into pure content when Jimin lets out a light chuckle.
“Don’t worry about me, hyung.” Jimin’s free hand finds Yoongi’s and the latter hums contentedly as warm fingers brush over his knuckles. Yoongi thinks the act itself soothed his symptoms by a big notch.
After a while of comfortable silence, constant strokes at his hands, Jimin speaks up again.
“Hyung, don’t be sick.” Jimin mumbles so softly, breaking Yoongi’s heart a bit. “Please.” Yoongi doesn’t know how he’ll react if he meets Jimin’s eyes now.
To show the younger he’s still fine, Yoongi tries to garner all the little energy he has to say jokingly, “Yah, brat–” A short cough makes Jimin giggle. Mission completed.
“I’ll be fine, I think I got it from the company dinner on Friday.” Yoongi struggles to not lose his train of thought when his heart picks up speed as soft fingers intertwine tightly with his.
It’s normal for someone as physically affectionate as Jimin to hold hands with the rest of the group. Even more, Yoongi has even-though a bit stunned at first–seen Jimin kiss Seokjin’s hands in a joking apology, try to pepper kisses all over Hoseok’s face and peck Taehyung’s forehead on multiple occasions.
But for Yoongi, who has never had much skinship with Jimin before, hand-holding is a milestone.
It’s just like when the others hold my hands right? Not that it happens frequently, either.
Yoongi thinks he deserves an Oscar when he smoothly continues in an exaggerated Satoori accent, “So don’t worry, brat.” His hand unconsciously squeezes the younger’s, causing a perfect smile to bloom on Jimin’s cute face.
And when Yoongi watches in slow-motion how Jimin throws him the briefest yet fondest glance, thumb rubbing the older’s knuckles again as his shoulders shake due to his silent laugh—it dawns on him then.
But instead of any panic, he enjoys the moment as it is before falling into a slumber; his hands still being softly caressed, another rubbing at his chest. Feels good.
Yoongi completely shuts off the world around him, including the longing look directed at him that never ceases as he slips into his dreams.
Yoongi doesn’t know what day and time it is when he wakes up shivering yet sweating at the same time. It’s clearly night, since his opened curtains show a deep ocean sky. The dead silence in his room apart from his ragged breaths indicate the lack of presence of a certain brunette, and Yoongi doesn’t hide the pout forming on his lips because he’s all alone anyway. It’s better that the younger left anyway to not get sick, too, as he mentioned.
It was good while it lasted. Real good.
He still feels shitty and he probably should change out of his clothes. Somehow the fever hasn’t gone down, and he’s already forming an imaginary message to send to his supervisor to take the next few days off. Fuck– he’s still burning up all over.
A thought crosses his mind: Jimin’s touch would make me get better faster.
Yoongi winces at himself as he stands underneath the warm stream of water. He’s already kind of admitted it, though. He’s formed a small crush at the younger.
There’s no thoughts of pursuing it (Yet, at least). Was it better when Jimin and Yoongi had a wall between them? Not gonna lie, Yoongi feels pretty good at the fact they’ve broken it. Completely wrecked and abolished that fucking wall. Fuck that wall, Yoongi thinks.
Then again, Yoongi reminisces on the earlier scene, his memory so vivid. Jimin’s wind-tousled brown hair covering his eyes that look so painfully caring and kind. Jimin’s warm hands against his back, rubbing soothing circles, gentle pats against his forehead and neck. So soft and full of affection. Jimin’s jacket–once Yoongi’s–which makes the older wonder how Jimin would look in his other clothes, bigger yet hugging his figure just right. The images come up so easily in his head, how close it looks like to Jimin being… his.
Yoongi groans to himself as he punches the shower tap off; his water bill is going to skyrocket this month. Just like before, the warm shower helps regulate his body temperature temporarily. He gains enough energy to wear an oversized shirt and fresh black sweatpants.
He realises his coughs have reduced significantly and remembers Jimin’s instructions on taking the medicine. So while his fever isn’t acting up, Yoongi shuffles his mismatched sock-clad feet to finish his leftovers so he can quickly drink the meds and head back to his comfy bed.
His jet black hair drips water as he trudges to his living room, towel strewn lazily over his head.
“Hyung?”
“Nghah!” Yoongi jumps at the unexpected sound, millions of thoughts crossing his fuzzy mind as he tries to process the small lump of brown hair peeking from the sofa.
Jimin’s laugh permeates the room as Yoongi leans his body against a near wall, heart hammering against his chest.
“How are you feeling?” Jimin sits up and Yoongi sees how he’s laid his legs across his sofa comfortably, feet digging between pillows, a random Youtube video playing on his phone.
To Yoongi’s pleasure, the younger seems in good spirits, just like Yoongi usually sees him (And how Yoongi likes to see him best). It’s a stark contrast from before, the older’s first encounter with a worrisome version of Jimin. A touchier one at that, too. Yoongi wonders whether this Jimin is gonna touch—
Fuck. That sounds wrong.
“Yeah, no, I’m way better,” Yoongi kinda lies, but learning that Jimin stayed with him for God-knows-how-long, washes a sense of content and giddiness over him.
“Great!” Yoongi jumps again at the sound of the doorbell. Who’s coming at this time? Wait, what time is it?
“Oh- that’s fast.” Jimin makes his way to the door. Yoongi notices the younger’s feet tiptoeing against the cold hardwood floor, so he quickly heads back to his closet to grab an extra pair of slippers. He grabs a fresh pair of socks, too, because it feels chilly all of a sudden. Yoongi pulls out a hoodie to warm himself as he hears Jimin saying a friendly and upbeat thank you to whoever is at the door.
When Yoongi goes back to the living room, Jimin is already setting the dining table with cutleries and cups. A flash of the older’s imagination occupies his mind– whether this could be Yoongi’s daily life. Their daily life together.
What the fuck. It’s the fucking fever talking.
“You really knocked out, huh? Did you sleep well?” Jimin still busies himself with opening the white plastic boxes.
“Um– Ye-yeah.” Yoongi nears the younger to set the slippers down. “Here, you should wear socks. Don’t you dare get sick, too.”
Jimin crinkles his eyes as he laughs, thanking the older as he sets down their dinner to wear Yoongi’s offerings. The younger makes a teasing comment at the cute duck embroideries on the socks and Yoongi tells him the story of Hoseok’s yearly sock-themed birthday gift joke. The mood is so light and playful that Yoongi thinks he could still be dreaming.
As Yoongi slowly digests the porridge, Jimin says how he was still worried throughout the older’s four and a half hour nap so he opted to stay and check on his temperature several times.
“No, it’s fine. I’m really grateful, thanks for taking care of me, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi tries not to care about how he was probably mouth-slack and drooling right in front of his (crush).
Crush.
Jimin.
Jimin is Yoongi’s crush.
Yoongi’s crush stayed hours to make sure he’s okay. Yoongi’s crush was worried sick about him. Yoongi’s crush ordered him food so he can get well fast. Yoongi’s a bit in love. Just a bit.
It’s the fucking fever. No. Yes. No. Fuck—
Witnessing the older stir his porridge mindlessly, sniffling a bit, Jimin’s worry heightens again as he holds the back of his hand at Yoongi’s forehead.
“You're still burning up.” Yoongi doesn’t like the disappointed tone of Jimin’s voice.
But the gesture–feeling Jimin’s touch again– stirs a familiar and comfortable warmth in the depths of Yoongi’s chest.
The touch is brief when Jimin gets up from the table to retrieve a small tote bag from the couch.
“I brought a thermometer from mine, we should check your temperature.”
The thermometer reads a pretty high rate according to Jimin’s quick search and he sees the furrow between his eyebrows deepen again. For Yoongi, the combination of that and his plush soft lips pouting is deadly.
A low sigh escapes Yoongi’s lips as he feels his body aching. The effects of his high fever are coming back in full force, wanting to plop down in his bed as soon as possible. His barely eaten porridge left cold as he mumbles to Jimin about his sudden drop.
Yoongi’s vision is honestly blurry as he trudges back to his warm bedroom. He feels the brunette’s presence behind him, albeit the lack of touch. But, he feels way too shitty to think about anything else.
“Shit…” A short sense of relief arises when he comes into contact with his sheets, his body immediately curling against the soft pillows. The increasing soreness of his bones pushes all other thoughts other than sleep out of his mind.
“Hyung… You should drink your meds first, yeah?” Jimin sets down a glass of water and an unfamiliar thermos on his bedside, before handing Yoongi different sets of medicine bottles. It’s different from earlier and still newly packaged.
Without a word, as his head starts feeling heavier, Yoongi gets up and downs the pills and water, averting his eyes from Jimin’s. The younger is standing a bit awkwardly next to his bed. He wishes the mood was still as light, but this fucking fever–
“D-Do you want to go to the clinic tomorrow? I can take you.” Yoongi shifts, hoping Jimin gets the memo to sit down on the bed, like before. However, Jimin’s gaze is set on his clasped hands, fidgeting anxiously.
“Don't you have work tomorrow?” Yoongi’s heart starts its erratic ascent again at Jimin’s thoughtful suggestion, but that would be asking too much from the photographer.
Yoongi watches Jimin shake his head before raising his head again. “I just need to go to the theatre in the evening.”
When Jimin’s shy eyes meet Yoongi’s half-lidded ones, the well-constructed script in his head to turn the offer down immediately shatters.
And as if the universe was listening to their entire conversation, Yoongi abruptly gets swept into a coughing fit. It sounds even worse than before. Fuck.
At the same time, Jimin finally takes a seat next to Yoongi, the black thermos opened on his left hand as his right rubs at the older’s back. As much as he wishes nobody to see him in this state, the comfort and honey warmth of Jimin’s gestures and presence soothe him so much.
Yoongi takes a few moments to breathe, rubbing his own chest at the discomfort of his tired lungs. Before he could come back to their conversation, the reply on the tip of his tongue, Jimin pours a brown liquid from the thermos into the lid and blows a few times before slowly placing it in front of Yoongi’s mouth. It’s so close to his lips that Yoongi has an internal crisis on whether to take the lid or just open his mouth and let Ji–
“It’s roasted barley tea, good for colds.” Jimin’s expression is so kind and patient. And so fucking soft.
Realising the pause is getting too long, Yoongi opts for the ‘safest’ option. He raises both of his hands, engulfing Jimin’s smaller one as he drinks the tea, immediately feeling the hot liquid relieving his throat. Yoongi doesn’t even notice the satisfied hum he lets out.
“Good?” The small grin on Jimin’s lips affects Yoongi so much and Yoongi can’t blame the fever anymore.
A pleasant feeling tries to break from his insides at the thought of Jimin going all the way to brew fucking tea from him. It’s honestly really good, too.
“Where did you get this?” Yoongi croaks, clearing his throat as his hands tighten around Jimin’s. Maybe the younger feels his slight trembles at their contact, but Yoongi is more focused on the glint in Jimin’s crinkling eyes.
“When I visited my grandma in Busan, I got a cold, too. It was about two months ago?” Jimin tilts his head in thought (very endearingly, Yoongi thinks).
He goes on to reiterate what his grandma—who Jimin talks with so much adoration about—told him about the tea, how the leaves were locally roasted by a close family friend and about his grandma, how much food she cooked for him while he was recovering. And throughout it all, Yoongi keeps asking questions, sharing his own anecdotes when the younger inquires curiously, the sweet melody of their voices filling Yoongi's bedroom in between hearty laughs when jokes are exchanged.
It’s here again. The lightness. The effortlessness of their conversation. The natural ease of their connection.
“It’s nice to have someone you love take care of you…” Jimin’s eyes don’t meet his, lips curving up into a small smile as he reminisces about his last visit to Busan.
Someone you love.
Or someone who loves you…
Yoongi’s heart throbs. It’s true that Yoongi definitely has love for Jimin all this time he has gotten to know him, as a friend.
But as a… romantic partner?
Yoongi’s hands twitch, where they are still clasped around Jimin’s right one. Yoongi doesn’t know how long they’ve stayed like this, but nobody seems to mind.
“Yeah, it’s a g-good feeling…” Yoongi stumbles over his words when Jimin looks up to him with an indescribable expression, causing the heat inside Yoongi’s gut to shoot out sparks more intensely than before.
A short pause and then Jimin smiles, but his eyes still carry that expression.
Yoongi smiles back, his hands moving on their own to hold Jimin’s a bit tighter.
The moment is intimate and intense, Yoongi trying his best to not waver in his eye contact with Jimin.
Before he can think of hundreds of scenarios on what he could do in the situation, Yoongi sees Jimin kind of snap out of it, the younger whipping his head away again.
“I- I can bring more for you tomorrow?” Jimin faces him again to pour more tea into the lid, still held by them both.
Yoongi hums as he nods before blowing against the hot tea. “I’d be grateful, it’s really good, Jimin-ah.”
“And…do you still want to go to the doctor tomorrow?” Jimin sets down the thermos before raising his left hand apprehensively, lowering it awkwardly to scratch his ear.
Not even two seconds after that, Yoongi lets go one hand from the lid, bringing Jimin’s right hand up to his forehead. He doesn’t know where the surge of bravery came from, but now Yoongi’s hand fits so well to Jimin’s, fingers intertwined perfectly, pressed against Yoongi’s warm forehead.
“Yeah, let’s go together,” Yoongi says, emphasising the last word more because of Jimin’s question being framed differently from the original one.
And perhaps Yoongi’s never been as proud of himself as now when his favourite sight returns, Jimin’s fond smile.
He remembers their first hand-holding milestone before his nap, initiated by Jimin, craving it so badly again. So maybe that's why this second time, Yoongi's heart pounds a thousand times harder, when this Yoongi-initiated hand-holding moment stretches even longer, warm fingers caressing knuckles as the two begin to explore a new territory in their connection.