Jimin gets stressed… A lot. His work as a CEO – for the prestigious Bangtan Security Cooperation – fails to help his ever racing thoughts; that fail to travel at any speed under one-hundred-miles-per-hour.

   It also makes things difficult when a particular client demands… ‘face-to-face’ meetings about a contract. And a ‘face-to-face’ meeting always requires travelling of some description.

   On this particular occasion, Jimin has to take the long, and gruelling, trip to America. It’s not like he’d travelled there earlier in the week. God no, don’t be stupid. It’s not like he has the privilege of sitting on a plane for over half a day, when there’s important to be done.

   At least he can thank God for one luxury in his life.

   “ sake.” Jimin curses, through tightly gritted teeth.

   “Honey, it’s just a kid… they don’t know any better.” Hoseok comforts, wincing as the child mentioned is dragged away – through the plane aisle – by a shocked mother, upon the glare delivered by the infuriated younger male.

   “I don’t care Hoseok – that… that thing whacked me over the head with its toy! If only the ing staff would take flight bookings properly, then we’d have a ing seat in first class!” The younger pouts, crossing his arms in an immature manner.

   “And are you severely injured – bleeding profusely – to the point of your injuries being fatal?” The elder questions, raising an amused eyebrow; running a loving hand over his heavily protruding belly.

   No response is given, asides from his husband deciding to lie on his side; head resting heavily in Hoseok’s comforting lap.

   “Life isn’t all about where you can sit on a plane, Jimin. We should be grateful for what we have, and not what we think we need.”

   The next incident, regretfully, is knocked up (pun not intended) a notch. The couple had been relaxing, watching a movie copied onto Jimin’s work laptop – that the pregnant male had managed to persuade Jimin into watching, after he’d finally calmed down – when the, obviously intoxicated male, seated next to the elder, managed to knock over his beer… All over Hoseok’s lap.

   “What the !? You better apologise right - “

   “Jimin! It’s alright, Sir. It’s easy to clean up.” The elder smiles at the young man, whilst patting his soaked lap with a tissue. The poor boy had probably just been on his way to enjoy a holiday with his friends.

   The poor kid, lip trembling in fear, merely stays quiet before placing a pair of earphones inside his ears; probably trying to block out his seething neighbouring passenger, with the volume blasted up to maximum.

   “Jimin ~ “ Hoseok whines, attempting to snap the seething male out of his unnecessary bad attitude.

   “Don’t, Hobi. You clearly don’t understand how stressed I am right now. I haven’t ing stopped, all week, and you know how much travelling on planes stresses me out… yet – yet you never ever vaguely come close to comforting me through it.” Jimin rambles; blurting random, stupid words over and over again – his mind and mouth working against him by placing all the blame upon the elder, when it’s more than clear that he’s the last person to blame.

   The first stage to Hoseok crying, is his innocent deer-caught-in-headlights look, that Jimin – somehow – is always on the receiving end of, before a misty, wet look is held in them. After that, the lower lip begins to tremble; swiftly followed, shortly after, by a rainfall of tears that seem to endlessly drift down his pudgy, flustered cheeks.

   “, Hobi – baby… I didn’t mean it.”

   He’s real