Chapter Text
Jimin feels slow, sluggish, wrecked, sick, but he has to move. They all have to. The plane is leaving in an hour and they haven't left their dorms yet. I hate this, Jimin thinks. I just wish–
"Jimin ah, do you have your ticket with you?" Yoongi asks gently. He knows the boy is suffering, probably more since they had an elaborated five hours of dance practice the night before, well, if you consider 4 am night, though it's almost dawn, but hyung, the sun isn't set to rise yet, it's still dark outside– And so Jimin, sweet sweet Jimin, insisted on staying together towards the end even though he basically nailed the choreography the first time they tried it out because hyung, what if you forget the next step?
Jimin smiles weakly, waving his tickets at a slow pace. His eyes are squinting hard from the smile that is weak, delicate, but enough to radiate a strong luminesce that Yoongi thinks– really it beams like a shining star, a meteor that would shoot right through his jugular veins, but not really, no, because then he would die. And Jimin’s smile doesn't kill him, at least not in that way. No. Jimin's smile is the kind that would wash away the flood of tears you'd have after burying your dead parents, the kind that would hush aside the sigh you would settle on after a long day of hard work, the kind that would lull you to sleep, just the thought of it.
“Hyung?” Jimin motions him to come closer. Jimin’s the only who hasn’t gotten off bed yet although Yoongi’s pretty sure that boy has woken up very early to shower and pack his stuff ready to go, they have a show to perform in Paris for some foreign music festival they have on Yoongi’s not quite sure–
“Hyung,” Jimin calls out his name again. He looks so frail, Yoongi thought as he walks closer to their bunk bed, Jimin’s on top, Yoongi’s at the bottom, but he lets Jimin sleeps in his bed yesterday, well, today, because they finished at 4 am, and now it’s only a little before 8 am, God, “What time did you shower and pack your bags, Jimin?” Yoongi asks. He takes Jimin’s ticket to put together with the rests. “I’m not sure, 7? Maybe before that…” Jimin mumbles. He gets up slowly, his hand is holding on the side of the bed frame. Yoongi quickly takes the other and brings it around his nape, Yoongi’s other hand firmly on Jimin’s waist, awkwardly trying to support Jimin so he can stand.
“Hyung, I can still walk.” Jimin chuckles softly, his eyes are still squinting. Oh god, please stop.
“No, you sprained your ankle remember? And Seungduk hyung specifically told us to handle you until we get there, to Paris, for another check up. The concert is four days away so you should be fine by then, I hope.” Jimin doesn’t say anymore though his eyes are squinting again but for a different reason.
“Hyung, it hurts–“
“Yoongi ah, did you get Jimin’s tickets– oh my god, are you okay Jimin?” Seokjin waltzes in the room swiftly to support the other side of Jimin. Yoongi sees Seokjin panicking and panic Seokjin is never good news. “I got him hyung,” Yoongi promptly says. “We just have to get Jimin a wheelchair or something later at the airport cos I don’t think I can carry him all the way.” Yoongi feels a soft pinch on his left ear right away and hears Jimin giggles, “Hyunggggg, who said I wanted you to carry me,” Jimin pouts. No, no, pouting is even worse.
“Well, you’re too heavy for me,” Yoongi scoffs, he feels himself flushing for some reasons. And Seokjin laughs.
“Uh, I heard Namjoon called for security guard to have the wheelchair ready right at the entrance, so you don’t have to worry that much.” Seokjin shifts his hand a little tighter around Jimin’s hip brushing against Yoongi’s hand that clasps even more tightly. Jimin leans in contentedly towards Seokjin. He smells like pancakes. Jimin thinks breathing in the scent that comes like gallant breeze through Seokjin’s neck, making Seokjin tilts down a little to match Jimin’s height looking quite puzzled at the sudden sniff. Jimin’s eyes are still squinting hard, his breathing gets heavier by the second. It must’ve hurt too much, Yoongi thinks with a frown. But then, Yoongi sees Jimin’s hand clutching desperately on Seokjin’s shirt, Jimin’s nose settles almost too comfortable near Seokjin’s neck just below the clavicle, Jimin’s hands curling on Seokjin’s chest, so close that Yoongi almost thinks he doesn’t hear.
“Jin hyung, I’m hungry.”
Jimin settles for that.