~ Jikook ~

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So I found this story on Internet, but I don't know the author. .credits to the owner. I love this story *^*

He'd never admit it to anyone, not even himself. Not if he were put on trial and swore on the Holy Bible (thank god he's not religious, right?).

Jeon Jungkook wouldn't be caught dead, no way, no how.

But right now, watching Jimin curled up on the sofa with a blanket thrown haphazardly over his middle, face pressed into the cushions, Jungkook doesn't have the will to walk away. If there were cameras, if there were just one other person in the room, he'd turn right around and close the door as loudly as he can. If, if, if.

No one is here but himself and Jimin.

Jimin fast asleep on the damn couch without a proper blanket and he'd catch a cold or something worse and then the whole comeback would be delayed because Jimin getting sick would be nothing short of catastrophic. No one needed that. Bang PD would have their asses; Jimin's ass to be exact and... well, the thought doesn't make Jungkook happy.

"Who the fuck is the older one here," Jungkook mumbles, rolling his eyes and loosening his shoulders before scooping Jimin up with a soft grunt. He's heavy--all density and muscle. Dynamite in a small package, as Namjoon would say. Yoongi too, but that was more snark than anything physical (he could throw Yoongi like a javelin if he wanted to).

Jimin shifts till his face is pressed right into Jungkook's chest, and he's halfway down the hallway before he's realized that Jimin's hands are fisted on his old t-shirt, a soft smile on his lips. Jungkook takes a deep breath and a pause before he makes his way to the room that he and Namjoon share. It's empty; Namjoon's probably still up in Yoongi's room doing arrangements.

The bed looks big with Jimin on it, still curled up like a small child and for a moment, Jungkook pauses, tilting his head to the side. From here, Jimin looks nothing short of just that--a child. It reminds Jungkook that they all are. Still children. Too young to be so heavy (Jungkook's arms are sore but Jimin's body must be so much worse), too young to know the weight of so much expectation, to not only accept it but to open their mouths and swallow it whole, hold it in their bellies till it festers and bleeds through them, till it's all they know and right now, Jimin is the only good thing left.

He'd never admit it to anyone. Not even himself.

But Jungkook grounds himself in Jimin's smile, in the way that he laughs and can't stop laughing once he starts, in the way that he bites his lip and frowns when he can't get something right and tries and tries and doesn't stop trying till he does. Solace is too mature a word--too worldly and huge. No, it's not solace that Jungkook finds in Jimin.

Its home.

"... col..d," Jimin frowns and curls in on himself even more so than before.

Jungkook snaps to. Jimin's somehow managed to gather all the blankets into a tight ball he's clutching to his chest and stomach body wrapped around it so that there's nothing covering his back or sides. Jungkook heaves a sigh and leans down, trying to extricate the blankets. Jimin whines and Jungkook's hands pause.

"Damnit..." Jungkook frowns and gives the blankets one last tug to no avail. Jimin curls in again, still whining.

"Cold..."