“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since you had a good kiss?” It could almost sound threatening, if it came from anyone but Hoseok. “Or any kiss at all?”

“Well, it’s been a few days, at least, but a good kiss?” Jungkook hums and kicks a pile of tissues nearer the overflowing wastebasket. He shrugs. “A few days. Any kiss from you is good.” His ears are red, or Hoseok’s hallucinating from heavy medication. “So I want you to get better. To do that, you need medicine that we don’t have right now.”

Hoseok whines in the face of logic and struggles to free himself from his feather down prison before Jungkook can make his ultimate escape.

“I’ll not even be an hour, hyung. You’ll live until then.”

“Just to spite you, I’ll die and come back just to haunt you.” The kiss on his fevered forehead does little to soothe him, but he’ll take what he can get. According to Jungkook, Seokjin hyung has been putting the idea in his head that prolonged contact with Hoseok will get Jungkook sick. As if Hoseok would actually do such a thing. The only sickness he’ll spread is lovesickness, and the only cure to that is Jungkook.

A catch-22.

“You can’t kiss me as a ghost, hyung.”

“I could try.”

“Just stay alive until I get back. You’ll be fine.”

“But you’ve gone without kisses for days.” He hears the door click as it shuts and pouts, burrowing further into his cocoon. His phone is in his pocket—possibly melting from being trapped in a blanket sauna—and he fishes it out with some difficulty. “There’s only one person who can help,” he mutters, opening a chat app. “‘Your mission, and you have to accept it, is to kiss Jeon Jungkook as many times as possible…’”