Obviously, life had rolled its dice and played its sick little patience game with them, making it impossible for the two singers to find a time shift during which they were both free. One time it had been Seokjin's singing lesson which had lasted longer than planned, then it had been Jimin's rehearsal, taking two more hours to come up with a good choreography for their new comeback, staying in the mirror-filled room even after Hoseok had begged him to come back with them and eat at home, but Jimin had been adamant on the fact that he felt like there was one thing missing to the choreography; even after Taehyung told him that he was being 'too perfectionistic' and he 'worried too much', Jimin stayed in the room, sweating alone for a few more hours after they had both left.

Jimin could not find the strength in himself to confess to Seokjin. He had been on the verge to when he had come back from his parents', though, now, he was back on track with his most profound feelings.

Jimin did not feel good enough.

He thought he was stupid to feel anything more than brotherly love towards his hyung; and he felt even more stupid when he caught himself thinking of a future with him. 'Why would you worry about what it would be like when he doesn't even see you that way?' he thought. The thoughts were harsh but they kept him grounded, because they were true. He was only hurting -as he refused to call it otherwise for lack of acknowledgement that this pain in his chest was actually so much more violent- from a deprivation that was meant to be. Seokjin would never return his feelings, period.

And the next day, and the day after that, Jimin stayed in the dance studio all day, even leaving the dorm at night, as quietly as he could to not trigger any suspicion from the members who were all sound asleep, to practice some more. At the end of the week, Jimin felt his legs give up under him as he tried to get off of the floor. Losing his balance, his hip collided with a table nearby where stacks upon stacks of bottles of water were placed. His grip on the furniture tightened, his nails digging into the wood in a claw-like manner. He refused to look at his brothers who were discussing certain steps of the dance a few meters away, holding the bottle's neck up to his lips. Gulp after gulp made the wavering of his limbs increase. His forehead started to ache, as if his skin was being pinched on each temp and in-between his eyebrows. But the worst remained the violent tear-like feeling of his ankle with each step he took. He had twisted his muscles the night before and had apparently done a very good job at worsening the effects during the day.

Jimin would have cried right there if it were not from the lack of moisture in his eyes. He would have sobbed if it were not from fear of falling unconscious and causing undeserved worry. He would have bawled if it were not from a familiar sweetly breathy voice.

"Hey," Jimin turned to his dongsaeng with the best reassuring smile he could utter. Jungkook did not fall for it though, his features still moulded in a concerned frown. "Hyung, please, come eat with us tonight. I haven't seen you eat anything but instant ramen since you came back." Jungkook paused, letting enough time to Jimin if he wanted to intervene, but his brain was focusing so much on not collapsing that he did not find any sort of strength to contradict the maknae. And if it had not been from the hand on his upper arm, Jimin would have not registered Jungkook's words. "We miss you. I miss you, hyung."

Jungkook did not ask why Jimin had not come back, why he was so suspiciously demanding with himself when he had just come out of a rough past couple of months fighting his inner demons; the maknae never questioned him about his choices. But his hyungs had grown worried for the oldest of the maknae line, the ever-growing tension which had only been rising for the past week probably impacting him more than anyone realised. This kid was just the sweetest. He could be a prank master whenever he wanted, but his ability to become such a soft and caring person never failed to make Jimin cry. Never.

Jimin looked up at him, the purple stain under his eyes that had grown darker as days had gone by only increased his miserable appearance as tears started to emerge from the corner of his eyelids. And his limbs were numb, as if they had been flattened by a steamroller; his nerves seemingly dysfunctional as he did not even wince when Jungkook's fingers pinched at his sides to hold him in place as they -very slowly- walked back to the dorm.

Jimin felt his weight dragging him towards his right side, where Jungkook was holding him. When they reached the dorm, Jimin was gently placed in a chair at the dining table, his bottom grateful for the fluffy cushion under it. Jimin forced himself to stay awake for a few minutes as he seemed to doze off unwillingly, his head falling on his crossed arms in front of him repeatedly as his eyes closed. He heard voices whispering behind him, in the kitchen, but his tired body was too tired to care, too tired to give attention to whomever patted his back gently repeatedly as dish after dish was put in front of him, too tired to really notice who sat beside him or in front of him as the six men settled around Jimin, too tired to engage in the conversations taking place beside him, too tired to do anything about the hand on his knee, gently rubbing circles over his sweatpants’ covered skin.

His chopsticks barely dug into the heavenly-scented plates pushed in front of him. His lips barely registered the piece of chicken prodding them. His tongue barely recoiled at the hot food lingering on his papillae.

The evening wore on, painfully stretching Jimin’s sanity as he felt his entire body go into a trance, unable to focus on his brothers as they, one by one, all left the table to help wash the dishes in the kitchen. Eventually, the hand on his knee left too. Jimin had not realised he had fallen asleep, lulled by the sound of water running into the faucet and cabinet doors being opened and closed repeatedly. He jumped when he felt a hand on his back, going up and down on his spine; any trace of the previous sounds livening up the place completely gone, dead.

“Let's go to bed, Jimin.”

He recognised the voice right away.

Yoongi.

Jimin nodded, placing his hands on the table in front of him to push his chair away and allow him to escape the pieces of furniture’s hold. His pride was most definitely hurt when Yoongi reached for his waist, making him lean onto the rapper who grunted under the weight added on his thin legs, though he did not complain during the short trip to their room.

Once Jimin was sat on his bed and Yoongi was about to leave the room so he could change in privacy, a short high-pitched sound, similar to a hurt dog’s yelp, left Jimin’s lips. The rapper turned to him, his hand on the doorknob. Jimin felt his eyes burn from exhaustion as he forced his eyelids to half-sit upon his dried corneas. The only light illuminating Yoongi was the hallway’s which ran into his back, making him look like a blurred shadow in Jimin’s eyes.

“Thank you, hyung.”

Yoongi cocked one of his hips to the side, changing the foot on which most of his weight was resting.

“Sleep, Jimin.”

But obviously, he did not listen; instead, Jimin resisted the urge to fall asleep when his back melted against the soft pile of marshmallow-like blankets on his bed. And when Yoongi came back, a few agonisingly-long minutes later, Jimin acted as if he was peacefully sleeping.

And, as every night for the past week, Jimin waited until his roommate was asleep, an almost inaudible growl living the man’s lips at each intake of breath which were separated by a gradually longer pause. When he was sure that the older male was completely and undoubtedly out, Jimin picked up his workout clothes -which he kept in the drawer under his bed, because he couldn’t allow himself to be too obvious about his little escapades- and made his way towards the door. Jimin was glad to be the one in charge of the cleanliness of Yoongi and his room as the jumble of cleaning products he used every week could easily hide some greasy liquid he could use to oil the joints of the door, therefore not having to add ‘maybe squealing door’ to the complicated equation that was his escape plan.

Jimin gently closed the door behind him, holding his clothes in his other arm. He took a few steps backwards, making sure not to have awaken anyone in the dorm, his alert gaze shifting from each lower edge of a door to the other. Once he was certain to have succeeded his little mission, some of the adrenaline that had accumulated in his exhausted body seemed to evaporate through his exhales.

Jimin turned around to face the hallway, a strong vertigo throwing him off balance. He lifted the palm that was not holding his clothes up to his face, covering his eyes as he regained his composure. His insides were burning and he felt like he could faint at any moment. A small whimper left his lips as he uncovered his eyes. A dark form stood a couple of steps away.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed you leaving the dorm every night?”

Jimin gulped soundlessly. Seokjin stood with his back against the kitchen aisle, the simple moonlight lighting up his form from behind him in a mystical haze, revealing a knotted pile of messy silver hair on top of his head.

Jimin’s stomach flipped flopped and he pressed his lips, feeling bile rise up in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to exercise; he could not break his little routine which he had installed for the past week when it was going so well.

Well?

Jimin shook his head. He opened his eyes again and took a few steps towards Seokjin, and when his shoulders were about to brush past his hyung’s, the older male squared his broad shoulders and stood straight in front of his dongsaeng, preventing the younger from making another move forward.

"You're not going anywhere," Seokjin stated simply but with an authoritative tone to his voice.

Jimin did not step back, analysing his surroundings to find a way to push past the barrier that was Seokjin’s form.

"Who are you to give me orders?" he growled, ignoring the slightly shocked and pain-filled expression of his hyung. Jimin took advantage of the bewildered state of his hyung to try and dodge his hyung’s body and walk past him; to no avail.

Seokjin straightened up, placed one of his fists on his hip and moved his feet away from each other, widening his stance, to give himself an intimidating look as he towered over Jimin.

"You need to stop this, Jimin," Seokjin spoke softly despite the frustration emanating from him.

"I will when I want."

Jimin made another move to dodge Seokjin’s imposing form, but he was just too tired, too slow, too hurt from his ankle and when his foot met the floor behind Seokjin, the male caught him, his arms in a tight grip around the younger male’s waist. Seokjin’s chest instantly warmed Jimin’s back.

"Not under my watch,” the older whispered.

“Let me go,” Jimin pushed the air out of his lungs through gritted teeth, ignoring the chills going down his back as the older male’s breath scattered across his skin. When the older male did not oblige, Jimin weakly wiggled his shoulders in the hopes of freeing himself. “Hyung, let go.”

But Seokjin only laced his long arms even more tightly around the smaller boy’s body.

“You need to rest, Jimin,” Jimin felt the older’s heartbeat punch his back violently. He was either as tired as Jimin and the effort was pushing the limits of his physical abilities -making Jimin swallow the lump of guilt in his throat thickly-, or maybe the older male was also affected by their closeness… ‘Ah stop it, Park. None of this will ever happen.’ he told himself. Seokjin’s voice dropped, “We’re all worried about you. The way you fell at practice yesterday…”

But the older didn’t know he had just struck a sensitive chord of Jimin’s.

Jimin bit his bottom lip, his whole body going limp under him. His head and shoulder were the only tensed parts of his body.

Jimin wetted his lips with his tongue, “That’s why I need to practice, hyung,” Jimin mumbled, “I’m not good enough,” he frowned. “Let me go.”

Jimin felt the older shake his head behind him, “No way, Jimin you’re completely exhausted I can’t-”

“Oh, so now you care?” Jimin hissed sarcastically, the own stupidity of his lie bringing tears at the brink of his eyes.

Jimin was stupid.

He knew Seokjin cared, he had cared from the very start.

He was so very stupid because he cared, Jimin cared so much more than he could ever explain. The man holding onto him in this instant was the one he had been proud to call his brother for years. And even if they were not related by blood, the seven men were closer to each other than some family members were among themselves. Somewhere along the journey, Jimin had found himself considering Seokjin as more than a not-blood-related brother, but that did not alter what they each felt for one another.

They loved each other. The seven of them could give the world to the other, they could give their life for one of their members. Jimin knew all of this. He knew he was pushing away one of his only anchors that was keeping him sane nowadays, but he just couldn’t afford to care at this point. Seokjin was right -he, almost, always was-, Jimin was exhausted.

Jimin felt the heaving and lowering of the older’s chest behind him stop. The rhythmical pounding of his heart seemingly the only movement he was making. A quavering breath escaped Seokjin,

“Do I not show you how much I care for you?”

And Jimin didn’t know if it was because Seokjin was accusing himself instead of Jimin. He didn’t know if it was his hyung’s sob-repressed voice.

But in this instant, Jimin gave in.

Jimin could not afford to care about restraint anymore.

“Hyung, I- I’ll… I will go to bed if you answer one question,” when the older male lessened his grip on Jimin, the younger male turned around, looking up into Seokjin’s dark irises. Studying his expectant features for a second, noticing the widening of his eyes as seconds passed, the way his lips pressed tightly against one another in a worried pinching. Jimin gulped hard. "A week ago, when I came back from my parents’, you said you wanted to tell me something, but then-,” Jimin sighed, bringing his hands up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face, “-then Tae interrupted us and, I-, it’s just, it’s been on my mind and I… What did you have to tell me?"

Seokjin seemingly stiffened, his grip on Jimin tightened. Seokjin in his cheeks. And if his answer had not taken such long seconds to come out of his mouth, Jimin would have maybe believed him when the older male replied,

"It was nothing important."

Jimin sighed, dropping his head to look at the floor. "I'm not an idiot, hyung. Stop treating me as one," Jimin felt his fists curl at his sides. He felt a small stray tear roll on his cheek. He managed to pass it off as an eye rub, using his thumb and index finger to massage his tired eyes.

"Right. I'm sorry, Jimin."

Seokjin let his arms fall at his sides in a soft caress down Jimin’s waist all the way to his hips, almost making Jimin blind himself when the contact made his wrist jolt up slightly, his nails nearly poking at his corneas.

The younger singer nodded as a sign for Seokjin to continue. Jimin’s eyes closed as he listened, the action making his eyes burn from their evident lack of moisturization. When he was only answered with a great silence, Jimin took his hand away from his face, looking up at Seokjin who was looking down at him.

"I-I," the older stuttered and Jimin rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. Seokjin sighed, his head hanging down as he looked at the floor. He closed his eyes, shuffling backwards, "I'm sorry Jimin, I can't-"

But before he could be out of Jimin's reach, the latter took the hem of Seokjin's sleeve. Jimin in his bottom lip, chewing on it slightly. Seokjin's steps stopped when the younger's tight grasp made the fabric of his shirt slide down his shoulder, exposing his collarbone. Jimin shivered at the long sigh that left his hyung's lips, feeling the gaze of the tallest of the two burning Jimin's head as he was, in his turn, looking at the floor.

"Then I'll start," Jimin said.

He tilted his head up, meeting Seokjin's eyes right away. The contact lingered for a bit, just because Jimin wanted to make sure that his hyung knew how serious he was about the decision he had just made. The younger tightened his grip on Seokjin's hand, leading the way to the couch in the living room, determined not to keep his feelings to himself any longer and hide them under his cowardice.

And as they both sat, one of Jimin's legs folded beneath him while the other dangled off of the couch, while Seokjin sat straight, his body ever-so-slightly turned to the left, towards Jimin, a comfortable silence settled around them.

And Jimin didn't know if it would make things more awkward, he didn't know if his hyung would accept this, but he tried. He tried because he was muted and wasn't able to express himself and the expanse of his feelings through words.

But actions speak louder than words, right?

And Seokjin and him had always acted more than talked, right?

Jimin gathered all the courage he could muster, hesitantly bringing his left hand towards Seokjin's right shoulder. Jimin's fingers curled around his hyung's shirt-covered skin. Through the darkness, Jimin could only barely see his own reflection in his hyung's irises as the latter were tracing the younger singer's lineaments. Jimin shuffled closer to Seokjin.

When his knees touched the side of the older's thigh, he brought his hand down, trailing it down Seokjin's arm. He tapped his fingers on his hyung's skin as if he was playing an imaginary piano. When he reached his hyung's hand, he hesitated for a bit; but soon, his fingers intertwined themselves with Seokjin's. Jimin's other hand left the couch to meet Seokjin's warm skin on his cheek. Jimin could feel his hyung's face morph its expression, though he could not clearly see what it was. Jimin paused.

Seokjin shifted beside him, his knees touching Jimin's as he now sat on his heels, facing the younger singer. Jimin felt his hyung's trembling hand rest on his upper-thigh, but Jimin did not feel as if he was invading his personal bubble, it seemed like Seokjin was trying to find where Jimin's body laid in front of him, as if he was measuring the distance separating them, his touch hesitant. Once his long fingers had come across Jimin's abdominals, they instantly retracted backwards. Seokjin hissed, his hand squeezing the one that Jimin had pressed against his own. Jimin both caressed his hyung's cheek with his thumb and his knuckles, silently telling him that no harm was done.

A few seconds later, Jimin felt Seokjin's hand on his waist, toying with the piece of fabric shielding his skin from the dorm's cool air. Jimin hummed, tilting his head down and resting it onto his hyung's chest.

If there was a turning point, it was now.

Seokjin could either push him away and ask him what the hell -heck, as the older refused to swear in front of his dongsaengs- he was doing; or he would let him continue. But that would not mean that he reciprocated his feelings, it could just be a sign of comfort from his hyung, yet-

'Just enjoy the moment while it lasts, Park Jimin,' he scolded.

Jimin's hand that was against his hyung's cheek moved to wrap itself around Seokjin's lower back, gliding on his chest. At first, Jimin barely moved his thumb on the older male’s back. His fingers began curling and uncurling while he drew different patterns onto Seokjin’s shirt-covered spine. Though, when his nails dug slightly deeper into the fabric, probably leaving a mark onto his skin, Seokjin gasped.

The hand on Seokjin's back paused, Jimin’s fingers which had been playing with Seokjin's, in their laps, stopped, his breath got caught in his throat, his muscle tensed. Jimin froze.

Was that it then? The end of the sweet moment of comfort in his hyung's arms?

Without warning, Seokjin nuzzled his head into the younger's hair. Jimin's fingers curled around the fabric of the back of his hyung's shirt. Then, Seokjin's lips were pressed against the younger singer's hair. Jimin's fingers curled around his hyung's. Then, Seokjin kissed the top of his dongsaeng's ear. Jimin's breath accelerated.

"Is this okay?" Seokjin asked in a whisper, his breath hovering Jimin's ear.

Was it?

The answer was obviously yes; because Seokjin was engulfing him in sweet caresses, offering him his lips as a display of affection, asking him if he was not crossing a line. Of course, yes, this was perfect. Jimin could have never dreamt of a more wonderful way to spend his evening than in the loving touch of his hyung.

Jimin pressed his head further against his hyung's body.

"Yes," Jimin answered, his words being muffled by the closeness of Seokjin's chest.

And then, Seokjin placed his head in the crook of his dongsaeng's neck. Jimin whimpered.

The continuous feeling of warm air being blown onto his sensitive skin, and the inhaling of all the heat, being in between Seokjin’s lips, made Jimin shiver.

What the young singer had not expected though, was the two additional pieces of soft warm flesh that pressed against his neck while the older’s breath kept its regular pace. As Seokjin's lips detached themselves from him, Jimin trembled; his whole body feeling as if it was producing its own inner heatwave. Slowly, Jimin scooted closer and closer to Seokjin until the male was resting on top of his hyung’s lap, his head still lain against the older’s chest.

As the seconds ticked by, Jimin felt Seokjin's body relax beneath him, his breath still tickled the younger singer, though, the evident peacefulness emanating from their embrace seemed to have lulled the oldest to sleep.

And Jimin was quick to join him in a dreamland of delicate caresses from the very man he had fallen asleep against.

Here, on the living room couch, in each other's arms, both singers fell asleep in their combined warmth.

With no care for the world...

Or did they?

 

*************

~FrenchieAuthor's note:

Jimin's twisted ankle definitely does not come from me trying to learn Boy with Luv's choreography... nah.

Also, I'm at a crossroads with this story. I feel like I could either make it super fluffy or extremely dramatic. I'm still figuring out where to go as I'm writing the next chapter but it may get a bit more depressing than I intended it to be. Oops.

I'm doing my best to incorporate the other members too and it comes so naturally. BTS was just meant to be, wasn't it?

Well, as always, if any of you have inquiries or requests to make for future chapters or stories, feel free to contact me, both here and on Twitter @FrenchieAuthor!

Thank you all for reading, I wish you a very good night/day!