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♡
Yoongi was craving nothing more than sleep and solitude, so it was clear that the two boys accompanying him would need to leave the infirmary. Minjun, with Hoseok's steady hands under his arms, stumbled through the hallway. The smaller boy was a bit shorter than most of the gang members, but Hoseok's support was unwavering as he helped him along.
He was gently placed in the same armchair where Namjoon and Jimin had spent the night before. Minjun's fingers ran over the silky armrests, a soft comfort in the midst of the lingering unease.
"Ho—Hoseok?" Minjun's voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
Hoseok glanced down at him, his voice a soft hum of acknowledgment. "Yeah?"
Minjun blinked up at him, the words tumbling out in a stuttered rush. "I... I only wuh-wanted to ask— I won't try to guh-get it out, I just, i—"
Hoseok's gentle smile interrupted the boy's frantic thoughts. "Minjun, calm down. It's okay." He squatted to the boy's level, placing a reassuring hand on his calf, the touch steady and comforting. "Take a breath, and try again."
Minjun struggled with the words for a moment before burying his face in his arms, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wh-Where's the truh-tracker?"
Hoseok chuckled softly, the sound light and teasing. "Tracker?" he repeated, amused.
Minjun flinched, a sniffle escaping as he shrunk back. "Pluh-Please don't get m-mad," he whimpered, "I... I just couldn't fuh-find a scar."
Hoseok's fingers brushed the boy's forehead, his calloused touch warm. "Minjun, do you have a fever?" he asked with a slight laugh. "Namjoon told us not to treat you like a prisoner. Why would I put a tracker in you?"
"H-huh—? Seokjin..."
The medic's laughter deepened, a soothing sound that filled the room. "Jin was just messing with you," he explained, his tone light. Minjun felt the tension ease a little, though a small pang of hurt lingered. The realization that someone he trusted had lied stung more than he expected.
"Don't worry, kid," Hoseok continued, his voice warm. "He just didn't want you running off. But, well... you tried anyway."
Minjun nodded silently, his gaze fixed on his lap as his body sagged in exhaustion.
The medic sighed, a soft sound of concern. "Why'd you try to leave? Even if you thought you had a tracker, we wouldn't have stopped you. We're not here to hurt you, Minjun."
"I wasn't thinking about that," Minjun mumbled, his voice small and vulnerable.
Hoseok stood and stretched, a satisfied groan escaping his lips. He pulled his phone from his pocket and set it down on the arm of the chair before giving Minjun a gentle motion to raise his arms. "C'mon, kid. I need you to stretch out a bit."
