Jimin stared down at the creamy liquid as it boiled. He’d been stirring it constantly, waiting for it to warm up enough to serve. It felt weird to be in the kitchen. Normally Seokjin would be doing this, but he was out. Everyone was out. With a comeback only a few days away, everyone was working hard, going over dance moves, practising at the studio, the schedule was hetric.

 

It was only unfortunate that Yoongi had fallen sick at this time.

 

It was Jimin who had volunteered to stay behind and take care of him. Jimin was the one who worked the hardest, practiced until the early hours of the morning. He had the dance moves covered, improved and perfected, he’d practiced his lines enough times to know them by heart. So it wouldn’t really matter if he stayed behind to look after his hyung.

 

His offer was met with protests. “I’m a god damn adult and I can take care of my god damn self,” Yoongi had hissed. But Namjoon and Seokjin had teamed up on him, and he couldn’t say no to both his elder and leader. In the end he’d sulked off into his room, and Jimin was given strict instructions to take care of him.

 

So Jimin was making soup. He’d spent time preparing it, making enough so that he could have some leftovers for the other members to warm up when they came home. But his main priority was putting in as much vitamins as he could for Yoongi. If Yoongi had to miss the promotions because he was sick, he would never forgive himself.

 

That was one thing Jimin couldn’t stand. Yoongi never seemed to understand that being sick wasn’t his fault, and he blamed himself for disappointing the fans, no matter how many times the members told him it wasn’t true. Hell, even the fans themselves said they weren’t disappointed in him. But that was just how Yoongi worked. He blamed himself, he apologised, and everyone could tell he meant it.

 

Jimin sighed, staring down at the soup. It should be ready now. He reached to grab a bowl, and a container so that he could store the rest in the fridge and keep it fresh.

 

~



 

The room was dark when Jimin walked in, curtains drawn closed. He could see the little lump on Yoongi’s bed, covered in blankets, jumping slightly when he sniffed.

 

Jimin closed the door behind him, not wanting the noise from the TV or the light from outside to disturb him. The gentle click of the door closing made him squirm slightly, his hands coming over the blanket and pulling it down to reveal tired eyes.

 

“What are you doing?” Yoongi mumbled as Jimin placed the tray down on Yoongi’s bedside table.

 

He turned the lamp on, keeping it at the dimmest setting so not to hurt Yoongi’s eyes.

 

“I brought soup for you,” Jimin whispered quietly. He waited for Yoongi to sit up in bed before sitting down besides him.

 

He looked a mess. Grey hair sticking out at all angles, fried at the ends and greasy at the roots, his eyes red and decorated with heavy bags, nose tinted pink, the skin flaking slightly, lips that were usually pink and plush were pale and chapped. He was pouting slightly, and Jimin smiled lightly. He watched as Yoongi rubbed his palm against his forehead, fingers messing up his hair even more.

 

“Tired?” Jimin asked.

 

Yoongi just sighed.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave soon. I just wanted to give you the soup, hyung. It will help you get better sooner.” He reached to grab the tray and placed it on his lap, taking the spoon in his hand.

 

“No,” Yoongi muttered, “you’re not feeding me like I’m some kind of baby. I can still use my arms.” His voice sounded raspy, Jimin wasn’t sure if it was because he was sleepy or because he was sick.

 

He stayed with Yoongi while he ate, listening to the slurping sounds he made while sipping the liquid from the spoon, the way his tongue clicked once he’d swallowed. He pulled his phone out while he waited, checking twitter and seeing the selcas that Taehyung, Hoseok and Jungkook had taken while at the cafe. Their captions were all a bunch of smiling emojis.

 

Yoongi finished the soup, dropping the spoon into the empty bowl with a loud clink. He muttered a small thanks while adjusting himself on the bed, lying back down and arranging the pillow behind his head.

 

Jimin took the tray from him and stood up, startling slightly when Yoongi gripped onto his sweater.

 

“Wait.”

 

Jimin looked back at him with wide eyes. “Yes, hyung?”

 

But Yoongi didn’t speak again. His cheeks dusted slightly pink and he broke eye contact. Jimin noticed the lump in his throat bob. It could only mean one thing.

 

“You want me to stay?” Jimin asked, his voice soft.

 

Yoongi looked back up at him. “Could you? I mean, you don’t have to. I don’t want to make you sick or something, and if you’re busy then-”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Jimin placed the tray back on the table and lifted his blankets. Yoongi had already scooted to the side, as if this was his plan all along. Not that Jimin minded. The two had cuddled before, while on the sofa watching TV, or if one of them couldn’t sleep, they always climbed into the other’s bed. By now it just felt natural. He climbed in and pulled the blankets back over them both, turning onto his side and leaning his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

 

Yoongi hummed in disapproval. “No, Jiminnie. You’re too close. I don’t want you catching my flu.” He gently pushed on Jimin’s shoulder.

 

Jimin shuffled down slightly, resting on his ribcage instead. When Yoongi protested again, he shook his head. “Some of us take our vitamins, hyung. I’ll be fine.” He heard Yoongi chuckle, felt his body shake under his head.

 

“You’re too good to hyung,” Yoongi whispered, voice low and gentle.

 

Jimin felt his long fingers threading through the strands of his hair. It was soothing and his eyes fluttered closed as he let out a contented sigh. He listened to Yoongi’s heartbeat, counted them in his head as the seconds passed. Yoongi’s breathing was steady for the most part, save for the occasional sniff or cough that made his ribcage jerk slightly, and Jimin felt relaxed.

 

His hand made its way from Yoongi’s chest down to Yoongi’s stomach, resting just below his navel. Yoongi responded with a quiet gasp, his fingernails lightly scratching Jimin’s scalp. Jimin began lightly tracing circles with his forefinger, and Yoongi all but purred at the feeling. He always seemed to love this, Jimin rubbing his tummy, and Jimin loved it too.

 

He loved how Yoongi had gone from the skinniest member to now having a small belly. It was now softer, the hardness of his hip bones had been replaced with a soft and cushiony bump that folded when he sat down, stuck out prominently when he stretched. Jimin had caught himself staring more than enough times.

 

The first time he’d ever touched Yoongi’s tummy, he was nervous. He didn’t know if he was overstepping the boundaries, didn’t know how Yoongi would react. They were both sat on the sofa watching TV, the other members all out filming or practising. At some point Jimin had rested his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, their arms touching until Yoongi moved his to wrap around Jimin, their eyes not moving from the TV. Yoongi seemed genuinely focused on the show, but Jimin was a little distracted. Because his tummy was right there. Right within reach, the small bump hidden behind his sweater, looking soft and smooth and-

 

Jimin couldn’t resist.

 

He started subtly, fingers lightly brushing against his hip, and slowly, inch by inch, he moved across his stomach, hyperaware of every single thing Yoongi did,  waiting for a reaction. Their cuddles were platonic but this seemed more intimate, and Jimin feared he was going too far. He noticed Yoongi’s breath hitching, but he didn’t try to stop him, and Jimin was sure that meant it was okay. Once Jimin began lightly drawing circles with his fingertips, Jimin peeked up to see him with his eyes closed, and a lazy smile on his lips.

 

They didn’t speak of it afterwards, carried on with their days as usual, and Jimin was thankful that nothing had become awkward between the two. Nothing was awkward the second or third time he did it. Nor the fourth, the fifth, the tenth, Jimin had lost count by now. They’d never really talked about it, but Jimin could tell that he liked it. Yoongi looked like a cat that was being petted, truly relaxed and content.

 

And his love for Yoongi’s belly had grown into love for his own. He stopped visiting the gym as much in some desperate attempt to maintain his abs, he ate until he was satisfied. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he no longer criticised the small belly that was slowly beginning to form. He wanted it to be soft, smooth, squishy, like his hyung’s.

 

Yoongi’s fingers were lacing through his hair, tangling it and occasionally tugging lightly, and Jimin noticed how his heartbeat slowed down, became more steady and calm. He tilted his head to look at him. Yoongi had the same expression as always, eyes closed and lips curled up in a lazy but contented smile. He looked satisfied, enjoying the attention. Jimin loved giving it to him.

 

He experimented a little, slipping his hand under Yoongi’s Tshirt, flattening his palm against the skin and smoothing along the the pudge of his stomach. The skin was silky but it felt so soft under his palm, like he was made from the stuffing of his favourite childhood teddy.

 

Yoongi sighed happily as he caressed him, his tongue poking out and wetting his lips. His eyelids fluttered open and he peered down at a blushing Jimin. It was the first time they’d ever made eye contact while doing this, but Jimin couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop his fingers from dancing across his stomach. To his relief, Yoongi just smiled at him and let his head fall back, eyes closing again.

 

“Love it when you do this,” he muttered, twirling a strand of Jimin’s hair around his finger.

 

“Huh?”

 

Yoongi tugged slightly. “You’re so good to hyung. So good.”

 

Encouraged by the praise, Jimin lifted Yoongi’s shirt a little more. It was hidden under the blankets, but it meant that Jimin had more space to roam and explore. He circled his pinky around Yoongi’s bellybutton, watching how Yoongi’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, dimples on his chin showing.

 

When he moved his hand higher up, Yoongi giggled. His knees came up and his hand smacked Jimin’s away, and he just giggled. When he finished, he looked down with wide eyes at a startled Jimin.

 

“W-what was that?” Jimin asked, his eyebrow raising.

 

“What was what, Jimin?” Yoongi asked back, frowning.

 

“That… That giggle.”

 

“It was a ing giggle, you just answered your own ing question.”

 

“Are you…. Ticklish?” Jimin asked.

 

Yoongi frowned. “No.” He took Jimin’s hand and placed it below his navel again, closing his eyes.

 

As Jimin began him again, he came up with an idea. He was curious, and slowly, really slowly, he edged his hand upwards, and as he reached the skin above his navel, Yoongi fell into a fit of giggles again. It was high pitched and squeaky, and not at all Yoongi, and Jimin just stared in disbelief.

 

Yoongi was ticklish.

 

The fierce and fearless rapper Min Suga was ticklish.

 

“Yah! Stop it!” His voice was deep, a contrast to the last sound that escaped his mouth.

 

But Jimin didn’t stop it. He ran his fingers across again, repeatedly moving them around teasingly as Yoongi giggled and thrashed around, and Jimin found himself laughing with him. He loved the way Yoongi’s entire face scrunched up, his smile so wide that Jimin could see the pink gums shining, the wrinkles around his eyes.

 

“Yah!” Yoongi gripped hold of his hand and held it firmly, his face changing instantly from happy to disapproving. Jimin let out a small giggle of his own at that. “You little !”

 

Jimin beamed at him. “Hyung, I can’t believe you’re ticklish.”

 

Yoongi frowned. He looked genuinely annoyed, but Jimin wasn’t buying it. “Turn around.”

 

“What?”

 

“I said turn around.” Yoongi gave a gentle push on his shoulder to get his point across.

 

Jimin complied, shifting around until he laid on his other side. He felt Yoongi press up against him and smiled warmly. The warm breath on the back of his neck gave him goosebumps, but it was nice.

 

“You feeling better, hyung?”

 

Yoongi hummed in response. “Much better.”

 

His statement was countered by a sudden coughing fit, in which Jimin sat up quickly and patted his back harshly. He laid back down when it was over, though.

 

“Yeah, much better,” Jimin mocked, and Yoongi playfully hit his shoulder. They fell into a comfortable silence after that.

 

~

 

Jimin was starting to drift off when he felt Yoongi’s fingers ghosting over his hips. It tickled slightly but not enough to make him laugh or giggle like Yoongi had. When his fingers began moving towards his stomach, he panicked, curling into himself in attempt to shy away from his fingers.

 

He panicked because, although Yoongi’s chubby tummy had made him accept his own, he was only just starting to become confident with it. It was difficult, especially with the maknae’s hardening abs, and Jimin had a conflicting mind. He wasn’t ready to show his stomach to anyone else yet.

 

“Hyung…” he complained when Yoongi tried again.

 

“You don’t want me to?” Yoongi asked.

 

Jimin shook his head. “No.”

 

“Can I ask why?”

 

“It’s just….” Jimin trailed off, frowning deeply.

 

Even without words, Yoongi understood. “You’re worried because it’s not flat?”

 

Jimin blushed.

 

“Mine’s not flat either, Jiminnie. You still like mine?”

 

“It’s different,” Jimin admitted quietly. “Nobody really cares about yours. If the fans notice me gaining weight, th-”

 

“They feel happy. The fans think it’s cute, Jimin-ah. They like it when you gain weight. It means you’re healthy. We like it when you’re gaining weight. When you grabbed that muffin last week, we were all shocked. But we were happy.” Yoongi’s fingers were drawing circles into his hip as he spoke. “So grab as many muffins as you like.”

 

Jimin frowned. “But some fans said they would stop liking us if I didn’t have my abs.”

 

“ them.” Yoongi’s tone would have sounded harsh if it wasn’t raspy with his flu. “You, or any of us, don’t need them.”

 

“I’m still embarrassed,” Jimin whispered. “It looks so different now.”

 

His hipbones weren’t visible anymore, the dips and curves of his abs smoothened out like his abdomen was made of clay, and the artist had smoothed his thumb along his stomach, erasing his abs. Sometimes he liked it and sometimes he didn’t, but the thought of showing someone else was frightening for him.

 

“I know,” Yoongi whispered back. “It’s beautiful.”

 

Jimin’s eyes widened. “H-how do you know?”

 

Yoongi’s fingers moved from small circles to drawing delicate lines up and down his side, from his hip to his ribcage, trailing up and down, up and down. It made him shiver.

 

“We’ve all seen it,” Yoongi mumbled. “At dance practice, in the shower, the changing room. Even when it’s covered and you sit down and it sticks out a little.”  

 

It made Jimin blush deeply.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Yoongi repeated. “I love it. The fans will love it, Jimin. Seeing Bangtan’s most handsome member with a cute tummy, I promise you they will love it.”

 

It made Jimin’s heart flutter because Yoongi always spoke from the heart. He never sugarcoated things, he was just straightforward. So for him to say something like this meant an incredible amount to him, warmed him up from his very core.

 

“Okay,” he whispered. “You can.. You can touch it.”

 

He didn’t need to look to know that Yoongi smiled. “You can stop me at any time, Jiminnie.”

 

But Jimin didn’t want him to stop. As Yoongi’s large hand settled across his stomach, he was shocked at how relaxed he felt. As Yoongi’s hand started to rub him gently, he felt his eyes flutter closed, he loved it. It felt better than any massage he’d been given, better than any hot bubble bath he’d soaked in. And with every small compliment Yoongi whispered, Jimin felt truly peaceful.