Superheroes - 슈퍼 히어로 | BTS Fanfiction | Yoonmin

| Chapter 32 | 'It's called being comforting, sunbae.'

Jimin slumped onto his bed with a feeble sigh. His cheeks were damp but he did not bother to wipe them. He had always been a crier, even when he was young, so long ago in that horrible place...

He never thought he would feel abandoned again.

But he was wrong.

He steeled his resolve, or perhaps a resolve against resolve, the bedcovers clenched in his iron grip. Why was he suffering alone? Why couldn't he bring himself to rely on his appas anymore? It felt like a betrayal of their affections, of their desire to help and be there for him. His eyes dulled, losing even the soft glow of angry resolution.

"Jimin."

He jumped with fright, just barely clinging to the edge of the bed and trying, unsuccessfully, to calm himself down. He didn't dare look up but he knew it might be Bastimae.

Except Bastimae didn't have a lispy male voice, and she didn't call him 'Jimin' or address him warmly. His racing heart conceded that maybe it wasn't necessary to go into overdrive and he took a slow, deep breath.

He looked up, expecting to see Zangling - in spite of how unlikely it was, given his 'running away' thing - and actually did fall off the bed when it wasn't him.

"S-Sunbae!?"

He turned his face away, hiding the sticky tear tracks as best he could. At least in the almost-darkness of his room, it would be hard for the other to see what a state he was in.

Suddenly, a hand brushed over his cheek. "Jimin-ah..." Yoongi murmured, his words ending on a regretful sigh. Jimin frowned. Hadn't Yoongi just called him Jimin? And now he was calling him Jimin-ah again. He was so confused. "Were you crying because of... Zangling? There is no need for you to answer if you do not wish to."

"... Yes..." Jimin hesitated for a long moment before answering, and didn't offer anything else.

Yoongi sighed again and gathered him into a tentative, warm hug. Unlike that day when Yoongi had forcibly kissed him, it did not demand more than he was prepared to give and only sought to pour friendly comfort into his heart.

He leaned into the hug, revelling in the encompassing warmth and acceptance. He had always found that in Zangling, as well as a lot of teasing, but until now, Yoongi had always kept him at a friendly distance - after the accident with Mun Byung-Hee - with emphasis on friendly. In the past week especially, he had been distant, treating him like a stranger.

Clenching the soft material of Yoongi's soft kumamon pullover - why did he always wear such ridiculously soft things? It was unfair just how soft or fluffy everything he wore was. Jimin wished his clothes were even half as nice to wear as Yoongi's clothes evidently were - and buried his face in the jumper thinking about the past week.

The two of them sat next to Jimin's bed for a while. Despite the hard floor, neither moved from their spot. Jimin bathed in the soothing peace offered to him by the other, quietly joying in the fact that Yoongi was being his friend again.

"This is sappy," Yoongi broke the silence, shifting a little to hold Jimin more comfortably. The orange head could sense that despite his sarcasm, he was very much sombre. Yet, the line was so unexpected from his normally serious sunbae - with whom he normally talked about many different things, and of course, was naturally flustered by because of his overwhelming directness - that he couldn't help but giggle softly.

"It's called being comforting, sunbae."

The other sighed quietly, his profile still and shadowed. His warm, brown eyes reflected a restrained concern - it confused Jimin that the other could have such iron-clad self-discipline over everything except, funnily enough, sleep, as he couldn't relate to it at all - and disgust. Jimin wasn't so selfish or oblivious as not to know what it was, though. No. He recognised it from the many times he look into a mirror; self-deprecation, deep-seated self-hatred, regret.

He felt a pang of empathy. Yoongi was suffering, whether he admitted it or not. Jimin just hoped that he hadn't added to it. Had Yoongi ignored Jimin at a cost? Had Zangling told him to? Was he going against Zangling's orders? He wanted to tell Yoongi not to disobey the super, but couldn't bring himself to attempt driving the older and his comfort away.

"Hyung."

"Huh?" Jimin mumbled dumbly, too distracted by his thoughts to figure what it could possibly mean. Was Yoongi younger than him and had never said anything?

"You can call me 'hyung'," the older explained awkwardly, seeing his confusion. Jimin blushed as Yoongi cupped his jaw gently. Warmth emanated from where skin met skin, little fingertip shaped spots of warmth, so familiar, though for what reason he could not figure out.

Tears came to his eyes once more as the older's gentle touch and comforting presence. They had barely said more than a few words to each other, words which seemed to be worth a thousand words of normal conversation. The words and comfort soothed his growing despair and loneliness, but letting go of the pain felt almost as unbearable as holding on at times like these.

"Alright, hyung," he whispered. He had never been close to someone like this. Hoseok, Jungkook and Taehyung were brothers and friends, and Jin and Namjoon were of course his appas. Yoongi, on the other hand, felt like... He felt like the Taehyung to his Jungkook, or the Namjoon to his Jin. But maybe less romantic. He blushed at the thought and shook it away. "... Hyung?"

"Yes?" Yoongi looked down at him with his piercing eyes, darkened by both warmth and iciness. Jimin didn't know how such was possible. "Jimin-ah?"

"U-uh..." The younger blushed at being caught staring. "Are you staying?"

The iciness seemed to take over almost completely, only a glint of warmth left underneath the sheet of cold. And somewhere within, he could see an understanding, and a regret. The older understood what he meant. Would he stop running away?

"For tonight," he answered.

Jimin stared for a few more long moments, sighing with defeat when he saw that he would get no more. His sunbae was talking to him once more, but he was still running away. And as he burrowed into Yoongi's soft-jumper clad chest, he reflected on the night's events.

Running away was something that Zangling and Yoongi had in common.

And he didn't like it.