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“Jimin-ah, you seriously didn’t order anything?”
Jungkook looked up from his plate of spaghetti carbonara.
Taehyung was scowling at his best friend, nudging him hard in the shoulder until Jungkook felt it on the other side of Jimin.
“I’m not hungry,” Jimin responded, irritated. “And I ate some salad.”
“Enough for a small mouse, maybe. Why aren’t you eating?”
“Stop asking me that.”
“But you haven’t had anything else all day! Are you dieting again?”
“When isn’t he dieting?” Namjoon spoke up wryly from across the table. “Jimin, just eat the bread or something. You can’t just drink water all the time and pretend it’s food.”
“I’m fine.”
“How often do we get Italian food?” Seokjin interjected with disapproval. “Come on.”
“Jiminnie-hyung, they’re right,” Jungkook finally spoke up, furrowing a brow at him.
The only thing that could immediately silence Park Jimin was when Jungkook spoke. Jimin always favored him over everyone else when it came to many things, whether he was conscious of it or not.
And maybe Jungkook liked it that way.
He liked Jimin’s attention a lot—perhaps more than the others’. Jimin took care of him very well, going above and beyond for him with all the patience in the world that Jungkook wish he had, and it was only right to do the same for him.
Especially after he fainted. Jungkook felt his heart ache as he remembered, turning to look over in Jimin’s direction, only to find him suddenly crumpled on the ground, not moving. And it was seconds—only seconds before, when Jimin was smiling and laughing onstage with him and the others.
And just like, he was not there.
It frightened him greatly, seeing him so still with his breaths so shallow. And when Jimin never returned to the stage to perform after going off to rest, Jungkook teared up with worry, thinking that something else might have happened, thinking that Jimin was even worse off than he—
“Not you, too,” Jimin sighed after a pause; thankfully bringing Jungkook back to reality.
He’s fine now. And he should remain that way.
But Jimin was still tiny and needed to eat; Jungkook could feel how small he was in his arms, his hyung lighter than ever whenever they performed No More Dream. Sure, Jungkook had a giant growth spurt along the way, but regardless, it was concerning how easily Jungkook could break him.
He swirled spaghetti noodles around his fork. “Hyung, here.”
“What?”
Jungkook lifted his fork toward Jimin. “Open up.”
Jimin rolled his eyes. “Aish, really—”
“Hyung.”
“Cute,” Namjoon muttered with amusement before returning to his own food.
Reluctantly, Jimin opened his mouth, allowing Jungkook to feed him. He chewed slowly, silently judging the food. But when his expression relaxed, Jungkook smiled.
“Good, right?”
Jimin swallowed. “I guess.” He was about to say something else, but Jungkook already had another forkful of pasta prepared.
“Jungkook-ah,” he warned.
Jungkook chuckled and inched the fork closer, and his hyung had no choice but to accept it.
“Ah, what a cute hyung,” he commented in a light voice, noticing the way Jimin blushed and looked down as he ate.
“Are you his mother now?” Yoongi asked from the other side of the table.
“Jiminnie-hyung needs nutrition,” Jungkook replied.
Taehyung, Jimin’s dearest and best, best friend who always supported him in everything—laughed hard. “But he looks so humiliated. Poor Jiminnie.” He expertly dodged Jimin’s incoming fist. “What? I thought you liked being fed by Jungkookie.”
“Oh, he does,” Hoseok commented airily. “He probably just thinks we’re intruding on a private moment.”
Jungkook had to hook his free arm around Jimin’s shoulders to keep him from getting up to hit Hoseok.
Other than that, Jimin was more compliant by the third bite and the ones thereafter. He did seem to enjoy being pampered by him; Jungkook swore he saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He was still silent, however. He didn’t want to admit that food won against his so-called diet.
“This does look private,” Seokjin added, propping his chin in his hand. “Looking all loving like that.”
He was watching them with mild interest, like they were something… different. Not as if he was watching a family member take care of another; just something else Jungkook wasn’t quite ready to try and decipher.
“I’m just taking care of him,” the maknae protested. He punctuated his words with a laugh, but he could feel his ears grow warm. He turned back to Jimin, who was now looking at him curiously.
Jungkook lifted another forkful of pasta toward him. Jimin was still staring at him as he took the bite.
“Shouldn’t you be eating your own food?” he asked.
“I was already getting full from eating this. It’d be a waste if I just left the rest.”
“Jungkook is enjoying this just as much,” Yoongi scoffed. He pointed at the maknae accusingly. “You could’ve just given him the plate, you know.”
“Jimin wouldn’t eat on his own,” Taehyung said.
“Well, no, not with Jungkook there to baby him.”
“Why do I feel like I’m watching a drama?” asked Namjoon. He pretended to get up. “Should we leave you two alone?”
“I’m suddenly not hungry anymore,” Jimin said, embarrassed by the leader’s words, moving his head away when Jungkook tried to give him more noodles.
“Are you sure?” Jungkook asked softly. It wasn’t enough, but he at least had something.
“Ugh. Yes.”
Jungkook set the fork down on his plate. He proceeded to grab Jimin’s napkin so he could wipe the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t help but smile as he did; Jimin really was cute, his blush still warm on his cheeks and his dark, pretty eyes steadfast on his dongsaeng’s.
“Just taking care of him, huh?” Taehyung spoke up, observing them both.
Jungkook avoided looking at him.
Eventually, the members left the restaurant. With the check came pieces of mint-flavored chocolate for each of them.
“Jungkook-ah, come here.”
Jungkook zipped up his hoodie, and with a chocolate hanging halfway out his mouth, turned toward his shorter hyung. “Hn?”
Jimin looked at him and beckoned him with his hand. “Closer. I need to whisper something.”
Jungkook raised his brows curiously and dipped his head toward him so Jimin can reach.
His hyung angled his head, but instead of whispering into ear, Jimin leaned into Jungkook’s face and bit off the exposed half of his chocolate.
Jungkook blushed hard when their lips made brief contact, and backed away quickly to stare at him, bewildered.
He really should have seen that coming.
Jimin grinned mischievously as he chewed, reaching up to wipe away the chocolate smear on the maknae’s lip. “Thanks for feeding me, Jungkook-ah.”
Jungkook was about to complain, but Jimin wasn’t done speaking.
“I’m glad that you’re willing to take care of me,” he went on, his smile wavering a bit at the seriousness of his words. “Really.”
Jimin’s motionless body on the ground came to mind again, along with how uselessJungkook had been then.
Before Jimin could move past him to follow the other members, Jungkook grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a hug.
“Oh,” was all Jimin managed, and after getting over his initial shock, slid his arms tentatively around him.
“Should… should I thank you more often?” he asked jokingly, his voice muffled by the maknae’s shoulder.
“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered into his ear. He held on tighter, burying his eyes into Jimin’s hair. He concentrated on his hyung’s pulse, beating strong and healthy against him. “You need to take care of yourself.”
Jimin’s exhaling breath was long and warm; thoughtful. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
“I’m serious.”
Jimin grew quiet at the soft insistence in his voice, and started to rub Jungkook’s back with both hands.
“All right, Jungkook,” he finally replied, his voice gentle. “I won’t scare you or any of the others anymore.”
Jungkook nodded against him, lost in his comfort. He could listen to Jimin’s sweet reassurances all night. “Good.”
After they finally went off to catch up with the other members, Jungkook watched as his hyung interacted with the group.
He smiles the brightest, he thought, his gaze falling on his lips.
And while Jungkook was satisfied seeing his hyung in a much better mood now than before being fed, and satisfied with what he said, he still couldn’t help but absently bring his fingers to his own lips and let his mind wander.