Pretty | Yoonmin (DISCONTINUED)

forty eight

Jimin awoke at two o' clock in the afternoon the next day, buried beneath almost almost unbearable heat, a heavy, pressing weight, and intertwined bodies. Having fallen asleep the night before—or the morning—with two of the biggest cuddle monsters he'd ever met (Hoseok and Taehyung) it was not surprising to find he'd woken up in a completely different position than he had previously. He had to say, though he'd greatly missed his best friends, he had not missed awaking from deep, numbing slumber only to find a butt pressed against his cheek and a pair of tanned feet upon his chest. Somehow, Jungkook had ended up resting upon his thighs, weary body curled into the smallest, fetal position upon Jimin's sprawled legs while his pale hands sought out comfort and warmth within the crevices of Jimin's smaller fingers. Hoseok was pressed up in front of him, for some reason, higher than he was on the mattress, so his feet were tucked beneath Jimin's waist while his rear end was pushing against Jimin's rose flushed cheek.

Taehyung, unsurprisingly, had managed to flop himself into a horizontal position, frigid feet seeping surges of icy cold onto the sleep heated skin of Jimin's chest while the rest of his lissome body hung limply off the side of the mattress. It was a true miracle he hadn't woken up yet with how uncomfortable his position seemed to be.

Jimin's eyes felt sticky, still heavy with the remains of his late night, crystal vision filmy with lassitude and bones aching and creaking like grinding stone with the residual soreness from the busy morning. It was almost painful to attempt to disentangle himself from the mess of limbs they'd created, as the tension in his quivering muscles pinned him to the mattress and the morning sun blinded him with its unneeded optimism. Though he felt evidence of the afternoon in the rare February warmth scattered in glowing slivers of tangerine and melted butterscotch across the bedroom, he was still utterly exhausted. His lashes dragged down to his cheeks, his heart crying out for the slow somnolence of tired peace. He was tempted to remain where he was, tucked against and underneath and behind his friends, with Jungkook safe by his side.

But, it was looking at Jungkook, face smooth and gentle in sleep, that forced him out of bed in the end, because the younger's neglected stomach needed nourishment, and so did everyone else in the house. He managed to escape the cuddle pile after much struggling, groaning, and slurred sleep talk from Tae's drawling lips, and he patted himself to full consciousness, straightening up his tangled hair and rumpled pajamas before stumbling haphazardly down the hall on exhaustion numbed legs.

He made his way to Yoongi's bedroom, and for once, the elder's door wasn't locked. Jimin pressed out a dragging sigh as he nudged open the door, and the sight that greeted him had him melting where he stood.

Jin was in Yoongi's bed, on the part of the mattress closest to the wall. The size difference between the two best friends had always been almost unbearably endearing to Jimin, but it was especially highlighted now, as Jin's broad shoulders curved around the bends of Yoongi's small shoulders, and his slender hands held Yoongi's tiny waist, cradling him against his chest. The position was almost protective, and the way Yoongi curled towards his touch with his legs furled up and his fingers grasping for Jin's wrists made it clear he had been searching for comfort in Jin. Like Jungkook, his face, so often riddled by haunting shadows of never dulling trepidation and crumpled with an edge of dread, was smoothed in sleep, still coal lashes, gently arching brows, and a natural, puckered pout upon soft, rosebud lips, There was no tension wound like rods of metal along the bends of his shoulders, or in the muscles of his arms as they encircled around him in a makeshift wall. Just lethargic tranquility and warmth.

Just tiny, adorable Yoongi cuddling against his best friend.

For one, bizarre moment, Jimin yearned. He yearned to feel Yoongi's delicate breaths stuttering in his ceramic lungs, yearned to lace his fingers around Yoongi's small waist, to hold him softly against his own resounding heartbeat as they fell into a shared peace.