Jimin lies on his side, staring at Yoongi beside him and thinks that Yoongi would look amazing with a cigarette between his lips.

It’s not that Jimin likes smokers, to be honest. It just seems it would suit the way he seems so detached, even with Jimin lying still beside him, even though he is still himself. Yoongi would be the type to smoke an after- cigarette, the type to let his partner sleep after being all ed out while he takes the quiet time to himself to enjoy his vices.

But Yoongi isn’t a smoker. His passion is music, and so Jimin instead gets to watch him work, propped up with pillows against the headboard, laptop resting on the blankets covering his lap, fingers flying across the keyboard as the soft light of the monitor glistens on his still slightly sweat-slicked skin.

Jimin stares at Yoongi and pouts a little, because he always feels just a little ignored at times like these. He’s huge on cuddling after , but Yoongi has never been the type, has always finished then pushed Jimin away mumbling about “you’re sticky” or “it’s too hot” or something, anything, going for his ever-present laptop instead.

Sighing a little, he tries anyways, edging a little closer to Yoongi, snuggling against his side.

Somehow, he’s not particularly surprised when Yoongi shoves him away. “I’m working,” he murmurs, sparing half a glance at Jimin before going back to the computer screen.

Jimin pouts more and turns his back to Yoongi in a huff, sulking a little, though he’d never admit it. Yoongi doesn’t have to work 24/7, does he? Is five, ten, maybe 15 minutes too much to ask?

There’s a slight pause in the tapping on the keyboard, and then soft fingers are on his back. “…are you mad at me?” Yoongi’s low voice murmurs in his ear.

“No.” But Jimin can’t keep the sulky tone out of his reply.

Yoongi sighs a little, and Jimin glances over despite himself. Yoongi’s making a face, but he murmurs quietly, “come here” and lifts his arm to make space

In about half a second Jimin is curled up on Yoongi’s side, his head resting above Yoongi’s heart and his arm wrapped loosely around Yoongi’s chest.

Jimin can feel Yoongi’s breathing and his heart beating and he feels the slightly heavier breath as Yoongi sighs again. “You brat,” Yoongi murmurs, but his left arm drops around Jimin’s bare shoulders, absently tugging the covers higher on his skin.

With a small satisfied smile on his lips, Jimin falls asleep to the slow rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest, the quiet beating of Yoongi’s heart, and the gentle intermittent taps on the still-present laptop.

***

Yoongi has to work one-handed for the rest of the night, but to be perfectly honest he hadn’t been getting much done anyways, and Jimin is warm in contrast to the slightly cool air, and every time Yoongi glances down he sees Jimin’s cute sleeping face and smiles with the knowledge that he’s the only one that gets to see him this relaxed.

He gets very little work done, distracted by Jimin’s soft breathing and the cute little sounds he makes while he sleeps and the way he nuzzles into Yoongi’s chest, and after only another half hour Yoongi shuts his laptop and carefully sets it to one side. He can’t reach far enough to set it on the desk, not without moving Jimin or at the very least jostling him, and somehow, Yoongi is loathe to do that.

There’s a fond smile on his lips as he cranes his neck just enough to drop a kiss on top of Jimin’s head, and he tugs the blankets up to cover them both as he falls asleep.

In the morning, Yoongi will grouch and grumble about the lack of work done, his sore back and neck, the small sticky patch of drool on his chest, the numbness in his left arm, anything and everything he can think of, but the memory of Jimin’s content sleeping face persists in his mind, making him smile gently throughout the day.

Yoongi thinks to himself – music is his passion, his life’s work, but Jimin is his vice, his sin, the thing that draws him away from his work time and time again, the one thing he will never regret.