“Jimin ah,” Seokjin turns to Jimin.

The sofa is really big, he thinks as he slides over easily bringing Jimin to him, wrapping both Jimin’s legs around his waist so that they can get closer. Jimin is still blushing faintly and Seokjin swears he has never seen anyone look so vulnerable and beguiling at the same time. Such gorgeous soul.

“Tell me you’re still hungry,” Seokjin brings the bowl carefully towards Jimin but Jimin still seems out of it.

“Park Jimin.”

Jimin eyes snap and he looks straight at Seokjin now realizing their position. Seokjin eyes are bulging wide, forehead wrinkles. He looks so worried.

“Sorry hyung,” Jimin’s voice is hoarse. That didn’t help.

Seokjin puts the bowl back at the small round table beside the sofa and edges to Jimin, even closer. He wraps Jimin around his neck, feeling his pulse while his fingers comb through Jimin's hair in consolation. Jimin is smaller than Seokjin so he fits perfectly in Seokjin’s long arms.

“Jimin ah, I’m sorry you have to go through this. I wish we can just cancel the trip and get you rest properly.” Seokjin sighs deeply. He hugs Jimin even tighter but very delicately Seokjin leaves enough room for Jimin to breathe.

“Hyung, ungfhh stop, you’ll get sick too...” Jimin tries to push him away but Seokjin’s not having it.

“Nonsense,” He clutches Jimin firmly and before long Seokjin slides his hand inside Jimin’s shirt rubbing his up and down and in circular motion.

Jimin shivers at the contact. He lets out a soft cry, but Seokjin knows it’s a contented one because Jimin is now wilting his head down on Seokjin’s shoulder hands enfolding Seokjin’s neck letting loose as Jimin practically moves in the vicinity of their body, so proximate that Jimin almost sits on top of Seokjin’s legs. Seokjin smiles knowing he has just eased Jimin’s pain at the very least as he continues to knead them softly.

Feeling sheltered, Jimin closes his eyes and basks in the silence and the occasional humming that comes from Seokjin. It feels so good.

He smiles curtly as he leans his head towards the side of Seokjin’s neck, lips brushing faintly on the outskirt of Seokjin’s collarbone engulfing his scent, all warm and cosy. Home.

Jimin has realized for long now that the moment he had Seokjin massaged him the first time a year ago, nobody else could make his body feel so compliant like this, s