Remedy
Authour: imveryloser
Retrieved from: Ao3
Words: 4292
Ship: Jimin×Yoongi
Summary:
When Jimin gets sick with a fever, it's Yoongi's job to make him all better.
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Yoongi speed-read through the proposals with a small smile. Looked like two more of the idol groups under his company were nearly ready for debut. Both girl groups (so he’d have to space their debuts very carefully) but so completely different from one-another. The first focused heavily on rapping (his favorite facet of idol groups, personally) and hypnotic dancing that could easily put you in a trance, while the second one was mostly lyric-driven, touching on topics the South Korean media usually avoided, their vocals powerful and their ballads stirring. During Wednesday’s board meeting, Yoongi would give their managers the OK to get them ready for debut. Then the real work began.
The clock read 2 in the morning when the blond finally closed his laptop and poured himself a glass of water. He quickly downed it, stripping out of his jeans and T-shirt before heading to his room.
He froze at the door when he heard Jimin softly sobbing from the other side. He was pretty sick, had been for nearly 24 hours, but it didn’t seem to be letting up. Yoongi had taken him to the doctor earlier today but he was only given antibiotics and told to make sure he continued to rest. But resting was hard when you were running a high fever. Being pretty much impervious to sickness, though, Yoongi didn’t have enough experience to do anything besides listen to the doctor.
“Jimin,” he said in his best soothing voice. Jimin only shivered. Yoongi put a hand on his forehead. “You’re still burning up.”
“Don’t touch m-me,” the younger practically batted Yoongi’s hand away. Yoongi drew back slightly, frowning.
“Jimin…” Yoongi went to hold his boyfriend but was weakly pushed away. He didn’t want to take it personally, but Jimin hadn’t rejected him for a hug since… Damn, he didn’t even know when.
Yoongi sighed, pulling at the blankets on Jimin’s lap. “Babe, you need to take these covers off or your fever won’t go down.”
Tears still pouring down his face, Jimin clutched at the blankets. “Hyung, I can’t.” His voice came out in a barely intelligible shaky little whimper. Yoongi really, really wanted to hug him until he saw a smile but he’d already been pushed away once so he settled for taking one of Jimin’s shaky hands and kissing it.
Jimin’s crying didn’t let up. It was obvious from the pure heat radiating from his hand that his fever was extremely high. Probably dangerously high. He regretted not buying a thermometer just because he himself never got sick. He tugged at the blankets, ignoring Jimin’s pitiful little sob in favor of getting him better as quickly as possible.
And then he froze. Because even in the near darkness of their room Yoongi caught the faint scent of something familiar, and even in the near darkness of their room Yoongi could see the dark area on Jimin’s pajama pants, soaked through and down into the bedsheets. He didn’t say anything at first. There had to be a way to handle this delicately. Jimin was sensitive after all, and judging by the way he reacted earlier, highly embarrassed. In reality, he had a ridiculously high temperature and Yoongi wouldn’t have been surprised if he was a little too delirious to be able to handle getting up to go to the bathroom. He pitifully covered his wet pants with his hands, face flaming red, bottom lip trembling.
