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The private event hall shimmered with soft golden light, reflecting off crystal glasses and polished marble floors. A banner stretched elegantly across the back wall—“ARIRANG — BTS Comeback Celebration”—a quiet but powerful declaration that they were back. Truly back.
At the center of it all stood BTS—seven men who had endured time, distance, growth, and everything in between… and somehow came out even stronger.
Dinner had been warm, full of laughter and teasing. Toasts had been made—some heartfelt, some chaotic. Now, the formalities had melted away into something much more them.
Music pulsed through the room, rich and lively.
On the dance floor, Jungkook was in the middle of a dramatic spin that ended in him nearly bumping into J-Hope, who burst into loud laughter, clapping his hands.
“Yah! Watch it!” Hobi shouted between laughs.
“I did watch it!” Jungkook shot back, already grabbing V by the arm and pulling him into a synchronized move that quickly dissolved into complete chaos.
Taehyung’s deep laugh rang out, his head thrown back, eyes crinkling. “We look amazing right now,” he declared confidently—despite the fact they absolutely did not.
Nearby, Namjoon stood with a microphone, smiling fondly at the scene before him. He tapped it lightly.
“Okay—okay,” Namjoon began, voice steady but warm. “Just for a moment, can I steal you guys?”
The music softened slightly, though not enough to stop Jungkook from still swaying dramatically.
Namjoon chuckled.
“I just… I wanted to say something.” His gaze swept over the room, landing on each member. “We’ve been through a lot. Individually, and together. But standing here now… celebrating Arirang… it feels right.”
A quiet settled in the room—not somber, but full.
“I’m grateful,” he continued. “Grateful we found our way back to each other like this. Grateful we can still do what we love… together.”
There were soft murmurs of agreement. Taehyung clapped loudly. J-Hope let out a proud, “Let’s go!” Jimin whooped.
Namjoon smiled, eyes shining. “Let’s keep going. Together.”
Cheers erupted, and just like that, the music surged back to life.
—
At one of the side tables, Yoongi sat with a producer, a glass in hand, posture relaxed but observant. He nodded along to whatever was being said, occasionally glancing toward the dance floor—keeping track, as he always did.
Not far away, Jimin stood at the dessert table, carefully examining his options like it was a life-or-death decision.
“…I deserve this,” he muttered to himself, already reaching for a second plate.
—
And then there was Jin.
Sitting slightly apart.
Still smiling.
Still perfect.
His white suit fit him like it had been designed by the gods themselves—clean lines, sharp tailoring. His hair fell just right, soft waves framing his face. Silver jewelry caught the light at his neck, wrists, fingers.
He looked breathtaking.
He felt… terrible.
A slow, creeping nausea twisted through his stomach, tightening with every passing minute. He shifted slightly in his seat, inhaling deeply through his nose.
You’re fine. He tells himself. Over and over.
He forced his shoulders to relax, focusing on the music. On the laughter. On them.
Someone approached suddenly, camera already raised.
“Jin! Quick picture!”
Instantly—like flipping a switch—he brightened.
A smile bloomed across his face, effortless and radiant. He lifted his hand, flashing a peace sign.
Click.
The moment was captured.
The photographer moved on.
And just like that…
The smile fell.
Jin exhaled slowly, the breath shaky. His stomach churned harder, a sharp wave making him swallow thickly. He pressed his lips together, blinking a few times.
Ten minutes passed. Then the heat hit.
It came on suddenly—like a wave crashing over him. His clothes suddenly felt tight, suffocating. The fabric of his suit clung to his skin, damp and uncomfortable.
Jin frowned slightly, glancing around. Is anyone else hot? He wonders.
No one else seemed bothered.
No one else looked like they were overheating.
“…God why…” he murmured faintly.
He grabbed a napkin, dabbing at his forehead. It came away slightly damp. His breathing grew a little heavier.
Water.
He reached for the glass beside him and drank it quickly—too quickly. The coolness did nothing. If anything, it made his stomach twist tighter.
A warning. A very clear one.
His hand hovered over his abdomen as realization hit him, sharp and undeniable.
I’m going to throw up.
Across the room, Yoongi’s eyes flicked up.
He had felt it before he fully saw it—that subtle shift. That quiet wrongness.
His gaze locked onto Jin.
Pale.
Sweaty.
Distant.
That faraway look like he wasn’t fully there.
Yoongi stood immediately.
Excusing himself without a word, he crossed the room quickly but calmly, slipping into the seat beside his hyung.
“Jin hyung… are you okay?”
Jin blinked, startled, like he’d been pulled from deep water.
“…Uh—yeah…” His voice was strained, thin.
A lie.
Yoongi leaned closer so he could be heard over the music. “Are you sure? You don’t look great.”
Jin swallowed hard. Once. Twice.
“…I feel kind of sick.”
Kind of.
“Sick?” Yoongi’s tone sharpened just slightly. “Like what?”
Jin’s hand tightened subtly against the table. “I’m really nauseous… I think I ate something weird.”
Another swallow. Harder this time.
Yoongi watched him for half a second longer—and that was all he needed.
“Let’s go to the bathroom.”
Jin hesitated, glancing toward the dance floor. Toward the others.
“…but the event—”
“It’s fine,” Yoongi cut in gently. “They won’t even notice.”
He gestured lightly.
Jungkook was attempting some kind of spin-lift with Taehyung. J-Hope was yelling encouragement. Namjoon and Jimin laughing hard to the side.
Jin let out a faint breath.
“…okay.”
He allowed Yoongi to help him up.
—
The hallway outside was quieter. Cooler.
But it didn’t help.
Each step made the nausea slosh painfully in his stomach. Jin pressed a hand against it, wincing.
“…damn it…” he muttered.
The bathroom was elegant—soft lighting, clean marble counters, gentle instrumental music playing faintly in the background.
It did nothing.
Jin stumbled slightly toward the sink, bracing himself against it. His head dropped forward, hair falling into his eyes.
He was sweating more now. A lot more.
His makeup was starting to break, foundation and eyeliner softening under the heat.
His breathing came quicker—shallow, uneven.
Yoongi was beside him immediately, slipping off Jin’s suit jacket.
The dress shirt underneath was damp.
“Hyung…” Yoongi loosened his tie with quick, efficient movements. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
Jin tried. God, he tried.
But the nausea only climbed higher, tighter, unbearable.
This is the worst part.
The waiting.
The knowing its coming.
The helplessness.
His eyes squeezed shut, throat tightening as he swallowed again and again, fighting it.
He felt like crying. He just wanted to enjoy tonight.
Yoongi grabbed a towel, running it under cold water before wringing it out. He gently dabbed Jin’s face, cooling his burning skin.
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
Jin shook his head weakly.
Another swallow.
Another wave.
And then—
He turned sharply.
Stumbling into a stall, he barely made it before dropping to his knees in front of the toilet.
“Urgh—!”
A harsh gag tore out of him, his body finally giving in.
Bile burned up his throat.
Yoongi was right there, kneeling beside him, one hand steady on his back.
“It’s okay, hyung. Let it out.”
Jin barely heard him.
He gagged again—and this time, it came.
Everything he had eaten churned back up violently, his body forcing it out in waves. He coughed, choking slightly as more followed, his entire frame trembling with the effort.
Tears filled his eyes, spilling over, mixing with smudged eyeliner.
Yoongi flushed between bouts, never moving far.
“Good, just like that… you’re okay…”
Jin clutched his stomach, groaning weakly.
Another surge.
He leaned forward again, retching hard as more came up—hot, relentless. His body wracked with each heave, breaths breaking between them.
Minutes blurred together.
Five.
Ten.
Until there was nothing left.
Only dry heaves.
Only exhaustion.
His body swayed slightly where he knelt, dizzy and drained.
Yoongi wiped his mouth gently with the towel, flushing one last time.
“It’s over,” he said softly.
Jin barely had the strength to respond.
He leaned back until he collapsed against Yoongi’s chest, his head resting weakly against his shoulder.
His breathing was heavy and uneven.
But slowly… slowly easing.
Yoongi’s hand moved to his hair, fingers threading through gently, grounding him.
Jin looked up after a moment, eyes half-lidded, skin pale and clammy.
“…thanks… Yoongi-Yah…” he whispered hoarsely.
Yoongi brushed his hair back from his forehead, expression soft.
“Of course.”
Jin stayed where he was for some time his body heavy and drained. Yoongi didnt rush him at all.
His fingers trembled slightly as he took the towel Yoongi handed him.
“…thanks…” he murmured again, voice raw.
He wiped his mouth slowly, carefully, like even that small motion took effort. His breathing had steadied, but his body still felt off.
“Think you can stand?” Yoongi asked quietly.
Jin hesitated… then nodded faintly.
With Yoongi’s help, he pushed himself up.
The moment he stood, his vision tilted.
“—woah…”
Yoongi’s hand tightened instantly on his arm, steadying him.
“Easy.”
Jin let out a weak breath. “I feel… weird…”
It was strange—his stomach wasn’t twisting anymore. The nausea had mostly passed. But now standing he felt light. Too light. Like his body hadn’t caught up yet. Like he might drift away if he wasn’t careful.
“Come on,” Yoongi said, guiding him gently toward the sink.
Jin leaned against the counter, and cupped water in his hands. Once filled with water, he brought it to his lips and drank.
Swish.
Spit.
Again.
Swish.
Spit.
He rinsed away the bitter taste, then washed his hands slowly, staring down at them like he needed to focus on something solid.
When he finally looked up—
He blinked.
“…wow…”
His reflection stared back at him.
Still handsome. Always handsome.
But wrecked.
His skin was pale, almost translucent under the bright bathroom lights. Sweat clung to his temples, streaking faintly down his face. His eyeliner had smudged, trailing beneath his eyes. His hair—once perfectly styled—now fell messily, pushed out of place by hands and damp with sweat.
“…God, I look like I ran a marathon…” Jin said hoarsely.
Yoongi huffed quietly at that.
“We should call it a night,” he said. “You need rest.”
Jin shook his head immediately, even if the motion made him sway slightly.
“I’m not going to stop everything,” he insisted. “I’ll just sit on the side like I did before.”
He grabbed the towel again, wiping under his eyes, trying to fix the worst of the smudging. Trying to pull himself back together.
Trying to be Jin again.
Yoongi watched him for a moment—but didn’t argue.
“…alright,” he said finally. “But I’m staying with you.”
Jin gave a small nod.
—
The walk back felt longer than before.
Jin’s steps were slower now, uneven. He leaned subtly into Yoongi’s side, his body still not fully cooperating.
The music grew louder as they approached.
The door opened.
And immediately—
They were seen.
All six heads turned almost at once. It would have been hilarious given different circumstances.
The shift was instant.
Concern replaced joy.
RM was the first to move, his expression sharpening as he took in Jin’s state.
“What happened, hyung?” Namjoon asked.
His voice had already shifted—calm, focused. Leader mode.
Jungkook and V followed quickly, their earlier laughter gone, replaced with wide, worried eyes.
“Hyung…?” Jungkook’s voice was softer now.
Jimin appeared at Jin’s other side almost instantly, his hand warm against Jin’s back, steady and grounding.
“Were you crying, Jin hyung?” J-Hope asked, eyes wide, already scanning him for what needed to be fixed.
Jin shook his head weakly.
“No—no… I threw up…” he said quietly, embarrassed.
A beat.
“Oh no…” Jungkook whispered, his face falling.
“Why, hyung? Was it the food?” Taehyung asked, brows furrowed deeply.
“I think… I don’t know…” Jin sighed, exhausted.
“He threw everything up,” Yoongi added calmly. “He needs to lay down.”
That was enough.
“Let’s take you home, hyung,” Jimin said softly.
The gentleness in his voice—
It broke something in Jin.
Jin’s chest tightened.
His eyes stung.
Before he could stop it—
Tears spilled over.
The members froze.
For a split second, the entire world seemed to pause.
Jin rarely cried. And not like this.
He covered his face with his hands, shoulders trembling.
“Hyung—” Jungkook’s voice cracked instantly. “No, hyung, please don’t cry—it’s okay…”
His own eyes were already glassy.
Jin shook his head, breath hitching.
“We’re not upset, Jin hyung,” Namjoon said firmly, stepping closer.
“I just—” Jin’s voice broke. “I just wanted us to enjoy this…”
“We did, hyung,” Taehyung said quickly, his voice warm and reassuring. “We had a great time.”
“And honestly, I’m getting tired anyway,” Jimin added softly. “I don’t mind leaving.”
“Hyung, come here…” Jungkook said, pulling him gently into a hug.
Jin didn’t resist.
He folded into him, pressing his face into Jungkook’s shoulder as quiet, exhausted sobs slipped out.
Jungkook held him tightly, one hand rubbing his back.
“It’s okay… it’s okay…”
—
Across the room, Namjoon was already speaking with their manager and staff, explaining the situation calmly but firmly.
Within minutes, everything was handled.
A car was called.
The music continued—but softer now, more distant.
Because their focus had shifted.
To Jin.
—
They guided him out carefully, surrounding him without making it obvious. Protecting him from eyes, from attention, from anything that might overwhelm him further.
The cool night air hit his skin as they stepped outside.
Jin breathed it in deeply.
It helped.
A little.
He was guided into the car, settling into the seat with a tired exhale. The others piled in around him without hesitation.
“You guys don’t have to come home with me…” Jin murmured, voice still thick. “I’ll just be sleeping anyway…”
“7 or nothing, hyung,” Namjoon said simply.
A beat.
Then—
Soft laughter filled the car.
It was so cheesy.
It was them.
Jin smiled faintly.
“There it is, hyung,” Hobi said softly.
“…whatever,” Jin mumbled, though the corner of his lips lifted.
He leaned sideways, resting his head on a shoulder—he wasn’t even sure whose.
And within seconds—
He was asleep.
—
“Hyung… we’re home…”
A voice pulled him gently from the darkness.
Jin blinked slowly, eyes heavy, body still sluggish.
“…mm…”
Hands helped him out of the car, steady and careful.
He yawned, half-lidded, barely processing anything as he mumbled the door code.
A beep.
The door opened.
Inside, the lights were soft.
Quiet.
Safe.
They guided him toward his bathroom.
He blinked again—
Jimin.
Of course it was Jimin.
“Let’s get you comfortable,” Jimin said softly.
Gentle hands helped him out of his clothes—peeling away the stiff, suffocating layers. The white fabric that had once made him look perfect now just felt heavy and wrong.
Soft pajamas replaced it.
Warm.
Light.
Easy.
Jin barely registered brushing his teeth—half-asleep, going through the motions.
And then—
His room.
The large bed.
Already occupied.
Of course.
He let out a faint, sleepy huff.
“Move…” he mumbled weakly.
They laughed quietly, shifting just enough.
Jin slipped under the covers, settling between Taehyung and J-Hope, warmth immediately surrounding him.
Bodies pressed close. Familiar and safe.
The others filled the remaining space—wherever they could fit.
No one complained.
No one questioned it.
Because this—
This was how it always was when one of them needed it.
Jin let out a soft breath, eyes already closing.
The ache in his stomach…
Was Gone.
Replaced by something else.
Warmth.
Comfort.
Protection.
And as sleep finally took him fully—
He didn’t feel sick anymore.
He just felt loved.
The End