“Namjoon, what’s wrong?” You paced around your living room after you had worryingly called Yoongi’s cell phone multiple times. He called you at an absurd time in the night, around 3am, and when you picked up, he didn’t say anything. Not thinking much about it, you hung up on him. Later, at eight in the morning, Namjoon called you.

“You wouldn't mind coming over here, would you? Yoongi hyung…”

“Is he okay?” you asked quickly. You nibbled on your bottom lip and Namjoon didn't respond. All you heard was a low grumble and the sounds of things being thrown.

“He seems to be just fine enough to-- ow. Hyung. Stop. Please. He's sick and he doesn't want me to touch him so will you please come over? No one can even get close to this guy.”

“I'll be right there.” With a sigh, you hung up, hurriedly got dressed in ripped dark denim and a simple cream turtleneck, and drove to the BTS dorm.

As soon as Jungkook opened the door, you smelled soup. “Hyung needs to eat breakfast, so we’re probably just going to leave the bowl next to his bed and pray that he touches it.”

“Is Jin cooking right now?” You peeked your head into the kitchen and saw Jin stirring a pot, still looking handsome early in the morning, dressed in a black long sleeve with both sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he greeted, raising an arm up so that you could hug his side. “Chicken noodle soup for that old man today.” You snickered at Jin’s words; even though Jin was the oldest in the house, sometimes Yoongi acted like a grandfather.

“I'm just gonna check up on him,” you said, jutting your finger toward his room. Jin nodded and you approached the doorway to find Taehyung popping his head into the room. You placed your hand on his shoulder and asked, “What’s up?"

“Yoongi hyung threw a whole bunch of things at Namjoon hyung to force him to get out, but then Namjoon hyung picked up one of the stuffed animals and accidentally ripped it in half.” You began to nod and paused.

“Wait what? He ripped it?”

“Typical Rap Monster.” Taehyung shrugged and pursed his lips to the side. You patted him on the back and walked into the room, immediately almost tripping over a pillow. Namjoon reached out his hand--his free hand that wasn't holding the remains of a ripped to shreds Pikachu plushie-- to support you and you grabbed it.

“Whoever it is, get the hell out,” Yoongi snarled. His voice was raspy and it sounded like he struggled to even speak. You could feel the rage from across the room, yet you dared to approach him, sitting next to him on the bed. When the bed creaked from your weight, Yoongi scoffed and rolled over to his side to face the wall. You placed your hand on his forehead gently, the heat of it warming up your hand.

“Yoongi, it's me. How are you feeling?” He turned around and took your hand off of his face to hold it. His face was incredibly pale and his usual pink lips were almost gray. “Namjoon, get out.” Yoongi gazed into your eyes softly and didn't notice Namjoon throw his hands into the air in exasperation. “Hyung--”

“Namjoon, get out.” Yoongi grabbed the tissue box beside him and chucked it straight at Namjoon’s head.

“What the hell, man.” Namjoon ducked and the box thumped against the wall. He avoided all of the junk on the ground, tiptoeing around the various things on the ground, and left the room.

“Please don't threaten your group mates,” you said gently. You rubbed his hand between yours and fiddled with his fingers.

“Jagiya,” he started.

“Hmm?”

“You wouldn't mind picking up that tissue box I just threw, would you? I still need the tissues.” He gave you a meek smile and though you gave him a death glare, you still tracked down the tissue box and threw it back onto his bed. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I'm going to get you soup,” you told him. He frowned deeply, furrowing his brows, and began to whine. “Don’t leave me,” he said, pouting so cutely, you could barely believe that this was a grown man speaking to you. “Jin hyung will bring the soup in.” You hesitated at the doorway, so you leaned against it and watched him, arms crossed.

“Did someone say my name?” Jin asked, his head emerging from beside you. Yoongi murmured something with his eyes closed and Jin narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?” Yoongi began to murmur more, but you tugged on Jin’s sleeve.

“It’s probably best if you bring in the soup now and maybe some medicine, too? Then we can just let him sleep.” Jin nodded and scurried off, so you let out a big sigh, resting your head against the doorway. You began to close your eyes; you weren't used to waking up this early, but when you heard about Yoongi’s condition, your body switched to autopilot.

“Why are you here?” Yoongi’s husky voice rasped. Your eyes fluttered open and your cheeks flushed pink. “Well, Namjoon called me to tell me that you’re sick, so… Did you not want me here? I can leave...” you trailed off sheepishly, rubbing your right arm up and down.

“I didn't want you to see me like this. I can barely move. I can barely talk,” he sighed. His chest heaved up and down as he struggled to breathe through his nose, eventually switching to breathing through his mouth. “I can't even kiss you without fearing that I'll get you sick, too.” He stared at the ceiling, but his lips began to curl into a smile. He cleared his throat, the sound of phlegm evident, and glanced at you. You gave him a shy half smile when Jin came back into the room. He handed you a tray and instructed, “Make sure he eats all of the soup and drinks all of the orange juice. Both of these pills, okay?” He pointed at each thing carefully, waiting for you to nod in understanding before he left the room.You gripped both sides of the tray tightly, still avoiding all of the junk that Yoongi previously threw at Namjoon, and sat down beside him on the bed. He pulled himself up into a sitting position while you placed the tray on his bedside table.

You lifted the spoon to your lips to blow when Yoongi grabbed your wrist. He mouthed You don’t have to and took the bowl from your hands. “Why am I even here?” you laughed. “You’ve been giving the guys a hard time and now you can take care of yourself?” You sat facing him and squeezed his thigh playfully.

“Uh uh, don’t mess with me right now, jagi,” he said quickly, almost choking on the hot soup. He shook his head rapidly and his lips, hoping none of it would drip down his chin.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you said, stifling your laughter, and you rubbed his leg soothingly. You glanced down to look at his pajama pants and burst into laughter at the pattern. His pants had a drawn version of Jimin’s double-chinned face and you recalled a time when Jimin wore a similar shirt in the Fire music video. Yoongi’s body shook wordlessly, so you looked up at his face to find him chuckling with soup in his mouth, cheeks inflated. He swallowed and while rubbing your knee, explained, “That shirt was gold. So I found a way to have my own thing with that pattern. The stylists made it happen and I am forever grateful.”

You nodded your head as he was talking and you suddenly asked, “Who got you sick anyway?”

His eyes narrowed into slits and muttered, “Hoseok.” You wondered if he was angry until Yoongi burst into laughter, provoking a quirk of the eyebrow from you, before he began to cough up a storm. You waited for his coughing to subside, a smile on your face, and waited for him to speak again. “He got sick earlier this week, so I was trying to help him out. I guess I must’ve gotten too close? He got his germs on me?” He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes momentarily, putting the bowl back onto the tray when they reopened. He continued, “Another reason for why I wouldn’t want you here. I can cough on the guys as a joke and it’d be nice for them to actually leave me alone, but I can’t do that to you for obvious reasons. I’d feel so bad if I knew it was because of me that you got sick!”

He chucked both pills into his mouth and downed all of his juice in three large gulps, his adam’s apple danced up and down with each swallow. “It’s okay. We can be sick together,” you joked, smirking mischievously.

“You think I want to see you sick? You think I want to see you miserable? I, Min Yoongi, am a simple man.” He held up his left hand and placed the other hand on his chest. “I just want my girl to be healthy and happy. That’s it.” He glared at you, up and down, and readjusted his position to lay down again. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and reached out to hold your hand.

“What makes you think I’ll be miserable if I’m with you?” You squeezed his hand and he groaned from embarrassment, letting go of your hand to cover his face, and curling into a tiny ball. Since he wasn’t looking, you shut your eyes tightly and laughed silently. Usually, he was the one who blurted out cheesy words for the fun of it, but since he was incapable, you figured you’d take over the job. “The two of us… laying in bed together…” Yoongi opened a single eye to glance at you and your face widened into a suggestive grin, wagging your eyebrows up and down.

“Oh god, stooop!” he rasped. “You make me want to get you sick.” His face slackened and he challenged your gaze.

“Wait, what?” Your smile dropped and your reserved composure returned. You held both of your hands in your lap as your boyfriend began to wag his own eyebrows at you; the pout on your face increasingly growing when you realized that he decided to use your joke on him himself. His chuckles escalated into an eruption of coughs and you frowned while he sunk his head deeper into his pillow.

“Go to sleep. You need it,” you whispered, slowly brushing his bangs off of his forehead and twirling the strands relaxingly around your forefinger. He hummed in response and his breathing slowed down to a constant, regular pace. You smiled softly at his peaceful face; seeing him like that made you feel calm and like everything in the world was going to be okay. You his hair until he fell asleep and when he did, you quietly got up from the bed and left the bedroom, remembering to avoid all of the junk that was on the ground and would stay there until Yoongi was better to clean it up. Immediately, Jin grabbed you by the arm.

“You better sanitize yourself, young lady.”

“Okay, Mom.”