Celestial Encounters : A BTS One Shot Series

77 - Jin & Jimin

Warmth in the Cold

The rain poured relentlessly outside, painting streaks across the windows of the shared apartment, the city beyond blurred into an impressionist's canvas. The autumn chill seeped through the crevices of the old building, making the warmth of the indoors all the more comforting. It was a slow, dreary day, the kind that made even the most energetic feel lethargic.

Jin, however, was feeling more than just lethargic. He was sick.

Curled up on the couch under a thick blanket, his normally bright face was paled by a fever. His usually sharp eyes were dulled by a mixture of exhaustion and discomfort. His throat burned, and his head throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. Even the simple act of shifting to find a more comfortable position was taxing, and every time he moved, the dizziness returned in full force, making the room spin in disorienting circles.

Jin hated being sick. He was the eldest; he was supposed to be the one taking care of the others. This was the role he was used to, the role he thrived in. But now, he couldn’t even muster the strength to make himself a cup of tea.

He groaned softly, pulling the blanket up over his head, as though the added layers could shield him from the relentless cold he felt. But no matter how many blankets he piled on, his body couldn’t seem to get warm.

“Hyung, you okay?”

Jin peeked out from under the blanket, his vision adjusting to the warm light of the living room. Jimin stood there, eyes wide with concern, a cup of something steaming in his hands. Jin tried to offer a smile but it came out as more of a grimace.

“I’m fine,” Jin croaked, his voice raspy and weak.

Jimin frowned, setting the cup down on the table. “You don’t look fine,” he said softly, sitting on the edge of the couch beside him. He reached out, brushing a few strands of hair away from Jin’s forehead, his fingers cool against Jin’s feverish skin.

“Jimin, really—” Jin started, but Jimin cut him off with a look.

“You have a fever, hyung. You’re not fine. When was the last time you took something for it?”

Jin opened his mouth to answer but quickly realized he couldn’t remember. Was it this morning? Last night? The hours had all blurred together into a haze of uncomfortable naps and waking moments of discomfort. He sighed, giving Jimin a sheepish look.

“I don’t remember.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his gaze never wavered. He stood up quickly, grabbing the medicine from the kitchen counter and pouring Jin a fresh glass of water.

“Here,” he said, handing over the pills and the water. “You need to take care of yourself. If you don’t, I’m going to have to start calling you a baby instead of hyung.”

Jin chuckled, though it quickly turned into a cough, and Jimin winced.

“See? You need to rest.”

With a reluctant sigh, Jin took the medicine, washing it down with the water. It was nice to feel the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat, though it did little to ease the soreness.

“Thanks, Jimin,” he muttered, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes.

Jimin watched him for a moment, his brow furrowed in concern. Jin could practically feel the younger man’s thoughts buzzing. Jimin was a natural caretaker, always worried about the people he loved. Jin knew that. He also knew that Jimin wasn’t going to leave him alone any time soon.