baby boy → y.min

thirty-three

Angry Daddy P2.

The sky rumbled, and heavy rain bounced from the small boy's pale skin as he trudged shakily through the puddles with his once light blue sneakers, now stained unrecognisable with dark smudges, his frilly sock's also soggy and damp with mud. His legs were bare and vulnerable to the harsh weather, knees grazed red from having fallen twice.

He froze upon seeing the house come into view, choking on a sob. When he reached the bright red door, his small trembling hand reached up and knocked timidly, the sound of the distant thunder nearly muffling it.

But the door opened moments later, a shocked and concerned Seokjin standing there.

"Jimin," he breathed out, surprised. Jimin was drenched. His cute dungarees soaked through and muddy, sticking uncomfortably to his skin. His blonde hair was stuck in wet bristles, bangs reaching down to shield his tear filled eyes. Shaking and sniffling, the older man ushered Jimin inside protectively, not caring when his turtleneck got dampened and dirtied by the crying boy's clothes.

"Who was at the door—" Namjoon came around the corner, own blonde hair wet, except it wasn't from the storm outside, but merely a refreshing wash. Something Jimin needed.

"Can you run a bath, Joon?" the eldest asked his lover politely, inspecting the smallest of the three for any injuries. The rapper nodded and took off. "Jimin, sweetheart, what happened?"

Jimin remained silent, quivering arms hugging himself, pale lips parted as he breathed shallowly.

"Are you little, Jimin?"

Jimin froze.

Little this, little that. I'm sick of this and I'm sick of you.

Then he broke down in heart wrenching wails. Seokjin cooed, easily picking the smaller up and consoling him, whispering sweet words of reassurance. Clearly something had happened, he gathered that, and it was something bad. Namjoon shared the same look of confusion and worry when he entered with a clean towel.

"The bath's ready. Should I get out some of my little things...?"

Seokjin smiled slightly at the thought of Jimin dressed in his own little's clothing. He'd be swimming in it. Still carrying a whimpering Jimin, Jin pecked Namjoon on the cheek. "Just a pacifier, baby. There's some of Jimin's onesies in the cupboard, though, will you grab one of those and a pair of underwear?"

They needed to figure out how little Jimin was so no accidents occurred, but Jin decided it wasn't the right time to start prying answers out of him. He was drenched to the bone, ice cold and clearly distraught. A bath and something to eat would be done before anything else.

But it was also Yoongi that had come to mind in both Seokjin and Namjoon's. They'd have to call him at least to check on his safety. The little's state made Seokjin wonder what on earth had happened and he was skimming over hundreds of possibilities in the privacy of his head.

Had someone broken in? Had Yoongi taken the little out and they'd gotten separated? Seokjin had thought of everything but the truth.

"I'm going to undress you for the bath, okay, honey?" he asked Jimin slowly, the poor little still shaking with an inevitable cold.

Seokjin breathed out in relief when Jimin offered a jerky nod. At least he was responsive.

Once the clothes had been peeled off and dumped into the laundry basket, shoes aside to be hand cleaned, Seokjin settled Jimin into the warm, bubbly bath and gently began cleaning him off, eyes trained on the blank expression the usually giggly and confident little held. It made the older wonder if Jimin was actually in his little mindset. Perhaps even on the border of crossing into it.

Half way through cleaning, Namjoon popped his head in, placing down a neatly folded pile of items on the shelf. Seeing his younger friend, practically his little brother whether he was little or not, sat there, still as a statue and unblinking made a shudder travel through his bones. He turned to his boyfriend.

"I tried calling Yoongi. He isn't picking up."

Jimin tensed. Both men saw.

Something really bad had happened. Although the two still hadn't thought of the reality of it, instead going a tad overboard and wondering if Yoongi's health was in immediate danger, and if it was, they couldn't wait until afterwards to ask.

"Sweetheart, where's your Daddy?"

Jimin turned to Seokjin, teary chestnut eyes making contact with the older's worrying ones.

"I...I'm not little, Jin hyung," he admitted, feeling ashamed in his current position. Although, in his defense, he was in a particular little headspace when he arrived.

"That's all right," Jin was quick to reassure, still gently bringing the wet cloth up and washing Jimin's back. "Can you tell us what happened, though, sweetheart? Where's Yoongi?"

The younger shrugged timidly, turning towards the bubbles surrounding him. "Yoongi...he—he yelled at me. Doesn't like it anymore."

Seokjin and Namjoon shared a brief glance. Although it calmed their concerns for their other friend's health, something awful between the two had occurred.

"Doesn't like what, baby?"

Jimin looked up sadly.

"Doesn't like it when I'm little," he choked out, Yoongi's words returning to his mind, but they hadn't really left at all. Just replayed over and over, like a broken record, tearing Jimin's mind to bits and pieces. "I-It's okay. Really. I'm...I'm just a nuisance, anyway."

"Don't say that," Seokjin scolded firmly albeit gently. "You're not a nuisance. Yoongi loves you very much, little or not. We all do. Joonie's a little, yeah? And Jungkook. They're not nuisances, are they?"

Jimin spluttered. "No...no...didn't say that," he whispered, easily becoming overwhelmed by the older's tactic at getting him to think differently about himself. "Just me. Just Jimin."

Tears spilled over.

"Just Jimin."