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Jimin’s head lolled onto Jungkook’s shoulder as they drove home in silence. The party noise was far behind now, replaced by the low hum of the city at night and the quiet thrum of Jungkook’s heart as he stole glances at the sleeping man beside him.
He carried him inside bridal-style, Jimin barely stirring in his arms, cheeks flushed from alcohol and exhaustion. Jungkook gently laid him on the couch and went to the kitchen. He squeezed fresh lemons into a glass, added sugar, salt, water, stirred carefully, and returned.
“Jimin,” he whispered, softly shaking him awake. “Wake up a bit. You need to drink this.”
Jimin’s eyes fluttered open, dazed. He blinked up at Jungkook as the cold glass was pressed to his lips.
He took a few sips but suddenly winced, hand going to his stomach. “My stomach… hurts,” he mumbled, voice strained. “I feel like… I’m gonna puke…”
“Hey-wait-“
Before he could finish his sentence, Jimin gagged, his body jerking forward-
Without a second thought, Jungkook cupped both hands in front of Jimin’s mouth, ready to catch the mess without flinching.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured, rubbing Jimin’s back. “Just let it out. I’ve got you.”
Jimin’s eyes were full of panic and shame, trying to pull away. “N-no, I’m sorry, I-“
“Don’t, it’s all fine.” Jungkook said firmly, still holding him steady.
“I-I can’t, take me to the bathroom” he mumbled, clutching his stomach.
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. “okay, let’s get you to the bathroom.”
He wrapped an arm around Jimin’s waist, guiding him slowly through the hallway. Jimin kept murmuring, “I don’t want to do it here-I’ll hold-just the toilet, please.”
But halfway there, Jimin suddenly gasped, stopped walking, and before either of them could do anything-he lurched forward and threw up right on Jungkook’s chest.
Jungkook froze for only half a second. Then he pulled Jimin even closer.
“Hey, hey-it’s okay,” he said softly, holding the trembling boy. “Don’t worry about that. Just breathe.”
Jimin’s eyes were teary, cheeks burning in shame. “I’m so-sorry, I ruined your shirt-“
“Don’t care about the shirt, Jimin. I care about you.”
He led him to their bed room, helping him sit on the bed. Jungkook quickly pulled off his soiled shirt, tossing it aside without a thought, and grabbed a tissue to wipe the corner of Jimin’s mouth gently.
Jimin was drowsy now, eyelids heavy, body weak.
“Let’s get you lying down.”
He helped Jimin under the covers, tucking the blanket around him carefully.
“You’re warm…” Jimin murmured as he curled up slightly.
Jungkook smiled, brushing Jimin’s hair back from his forehead. “That’s because you drank too much, silly.”
Jimin’s lips formed a faint pout. “You’re still handsome even covered in puke…”
Jungkook let out a low laugh, shaking his head fondly. “You really are drunk.”
Jimin mumbled something inaudible as he drifted off. Jungkook stood there for a while, just watching him-his face flushed, messy hair on the pillow, breathing evening out.
He whispered softly, “Sleep well, Jimin. I’ve got you.”
The room went quiet again, the only sound was the slow hum of the air conditioning and Jimin’s soft, rhythmic breathing.
Jungkook sat at the edge of the bed, his now-clean torso bare, a towel slung over his shoulder from quickly cleaning up the mess earlier.
He kept looking at the boy sleeping so peacefully-Jimin’s lashes brushing against his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, his hand curled over the blanket like a child.
It was supposed to be simple.
An arranged marriage. Polite dinners. Coexisting under one roof until the contract ended or feelings faded.
But instead… here he was, sitting next to a boy who just puked all over his favorite shirt-and he didn’t even mind.
He actually… smiled at the thought.
He remembered Jimin sewing the button on his shirt, how close their faces had gotten. He remembered the gentle way Jimin had cut the thread with his teeth, unaware of how red Jungkook’s ears had turned.
He remembered the way Jimin studied all night, how he always left coffee mugs empty with little sticky notes saying “Thank you ☕💗” on the table.
He remembered that night, Jimin’s head on his lap, the way he had fallen asleep trusting Jungkook so completely.
And now… tonight.
How fragile he looked when he was drunk. How tightly he clutched Jungkook’s shirt when he didn’t want to throw up on the floor. How vulnerable, soft, and entirely his Jimin had looked in that moment.
A warmth bloomed in his chest so suddenly, it nearly knocked the breath out of him.
His fingers brushed Jimin’s hair again, softer this time. Lingering.
“I think I love you jimin…” Jungkook whispered under his breath, as if afraid the words might wake him.
But Jimin didn’t stir.
He just slept there, safe and sound, wrapped in Jungkook’s care.
Jungkook sighed, a faint smile curling at his lips as he leaned back against the headboard, heart pounding and head full of the boy who now quietly owned it.
“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
And for the first time in a long time, that thought didn’t scare him.
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