Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The day Jeongguk woke up, it was on a weekend, and Jimin was alone with him in the quiet of the hospital room. The late afternoon sun spilled through the windows, casting a soft, golden glow over Jeongguk's still form. Jimin had already finished all his usual tasks—changing Jeongguk’s water, adjusting the blankets just right, wiping his hands and face with a damp cloth, and reading to him from the latest book he’d brought. But now, with nothing left to busy himself, he sat beside Jeongguk, holding his hand in both of his and just... looking at him.

Two months. Two excruciating, endless months since Jeongguk’s heart had stopped that day, and the memory still haunted Jimin. No matter how much time passed, he couldn’t shake the image of Jeongguk’s lifeless body convulsing, slipping away from them, or the shrill beeping of the heart monitor ringing in his ears. Every moment since that day had been filled with fear that they might lose him for good.

He stared down at Jeongguk’s pale, peaceful face. The sight of him lying so still felt unnatural. Jeongguk, who was always so full of life, now bound to a hospital bed with wires and tubes keeping him alive.

Jimin ran his thumb gently across the back of Jeongguk’s hand, the warmth of his skin reassuring despite the weakness. How hard it must have been for Jeongguk to live with this burden his whole life—having to be careful with every step, every breath, always knowing his heart was fragile. Jimin’s chest ached. How many times must Jeongguk have felt exhausted just from trying to keep up with the world around him? And worse, how many times had he ignored Jeongguk’s silent cries for help?

Tears welled in Jimin’s eyes, guilt gnawing at him like a relentless storm. He pressed Jeongguk’s hand to his forehead, holding it close as if the contact could somehow convey all the words he was too afraid to say out loud.

And then—Jeongguk’s hand moved.

Jimin’s breath hitched. He jolted back, eyes wide in disbelief. Slowly, he looked down at the hand still resting in his own, and then he saw it—a weak but unmistakable squeeze. His heart thundered in his chest as he looked toward Jeongguk’s face. And there they were—those beautiful brown eyes, half-lidded and hazy with exhaustion, but open.

“Jeongguk?” Jimin choked, his voice trembling.

Jeongguk’s gaze was unfocused, as if he was still trying to make sense of where he was. His lips parted slightly, and though no sound came out, the way his eyes softened—glassy with unshed tears—said everything. Slowly, his fingers curled weakly around Jimin’s wrist, the touch light but undeniably there.

Jimin gasped, his own tears now spilling freely. “Oh my god. Jeongguk, you’re awake.” His voice cracked under the weight of emotion. “You’re really awake.”

Jeongguk gave the smallest, almost imperceptible nod, and though his movements were sluggish, there was something in his expression—relief, maybe. Or happiness. It was hard to tell with the tears streaming down both of their faces.

“I— I need to get the doctor,” Jimin stammered, his panic bubbling over. He scrambled to press the emergency call button, his hand slamming down on it repeatedly, frantic. “Please come—please, hurry,” he muttered under his breath, as if willing the doctors to appear faster.

With trembling hands, Jimin fumbled for his phone and called Jeongguk’s hyungs. The phone barely rang once before Namjoon picked up.

“He’s awake,” Jimin choked into the receiver, his breath hitching with every word. “Jeongguk is awake.”

Namjoon didn’t need to hear anything else. The line went dead, and Jimin knew they were already on their way.

Fifteen minutes later, the door to the room burst open, and Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi rushed inside, their faces flushed. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat glistening on their foreheads from the sprint they must have made to get here.

“Jeongguk!” Namjoon’s voice was raw, as if he had been holding back tears the entire way. He rushed to the bed, his eyes widening when he saw Jeongguk’s eyes fluttering open. “You’re really—” His voice cracked, and he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Seokjin’s knees gave out as he reached the bed, falling beside Jeongguk’s body. “Oh, thank god. Thank god,” Seokjin whispered, his sobs breaking free. He clutched Jeongguk’s hand to his chest, his whole body trembling. “You scared the hell out of us, Guk. Don’t you ever do that again.”

Yoongi, who rarely let his emotions show, stood frozen at the foot of the bed, his hands clenched at his sides. But the way his shoulders shook gave him away. When he finally stepped forward, he pressed his forehead against Jeongguk’s arm, silent sobs wracking his frame.

Namjoon crouched down beside the bed, his large hands brushing gently over Jeongguk’s hair. His tears came freely now, falling onto Jeongguk’s blanket. “We thought...” Namjoon whispered, his voice breaking. “We thought we lost you.”

Jimin stood to the side, watching as the hyungs broke down, their tears falling without shame. He saw the love in every touch, every whispered word of relief, and it struck him how deeply they cared for Jeongguk. They had carried the weight of fear on their shoulders for so long, and now, in the face of Jeongguk’s recovery, that weight finally collapsed under them.

“I missed you so much, Guk,” Seokjin murmured, brushing Jeongguk’s hair off his damp forehead. “We’ve been waiting every day... every day, hoping you’d come back to us.”

Jeongguk’s lips trembled as he tried to smile, though it was weak and barely there. His eyes shimmered with tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions in the room. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, only a soft, broken sound—half a sob, half a laugh.

“It’s okay, Guk,” Yoongi whispered, his hand resting lightly over Jeongguk’s heart. “You don’t have to say anything. Just... just be here. That’s enough.”

Namjoon sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “You scared us so bad, little brother,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Jimin stood silently, his own tears streaming down his cheeks as he witnessed the overwhelming relief in the room. He didn’t belong here, not really—not after everything that had happened, not after the pain he had caused Jeongguk. But seeing them all like this, breaking down together, made something shift deep in his heart.

He moved closer to Jeongguk’s bed, hesitating for a moment before speaking softly. “Jeongguk... I—”

Before he could finish, Seokjin gave him a small nod. It wasn’t an invitation exactly, but it wasn’t rejection either. It was permission—silent and cautious, but there.

Jimin stepped forward, his hand trembling as he gently brushed his fingers over Jeongguk’s, feeling the faintest squeeze in return. A shaky sob escaped Jimin’s lips, and he lowered his head, pressing a kiss to Jeongguk’s hand.

“Thank you for coming back,” Jimin whispered, his voice barely audible through the tears. “Thank you.”

Jeongguk’s eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting in the softest exhale as if, despite everything, he was content. And for the first time in two months, the room felt lighter—a fragile, tentative hope blooming in the space between them, fragile but real.

The door swung open as the doctor entered, followed closely by a nurse wheeling in a cart with medical equipment. Everyone in the room tensed, the air thick with anxiety as the doctor approached Jeongguk’s bed.

“Good afternoon,” the doctor greeted gently, his voice calm but professional. He gave the group a reassuring smile as he pulled on a pair of gloves. “I heard we’ve had some exciting progress today.”

Jeongguk’s eyelids fluttered open again, exhaustion evident in his gaze, but there was a flicker of life there that hadn’t been before. His fingers remained curled weakly in Jimin’s hand, but his movements were minimal, every effort clearly draining.

"Jeongguk," the doctor said kindly as he leaned over, checking the monitors attached to him. "I'm Dr. Song. I’ve been overseeing your case for the past few months. You don’t need to say anything—just relax while I check on a few things, alright?"

Jeongguk’s eyelids drifted closed, the corners of his lips twitching in a weak attempt at a nod. The doctor offered him a small, understanding smile and proceeded with his checkup. He listened to Jeongguk's heartbeat through his stethoscope, his expression neutral, though the tension in the room was palpable.

The nurse worked efficiently beside the doctor, monitoring Jeongguk’s vitals and making notes. The beeping of the heart monitor filled the silence, steady and strong—a sound that brought both relief and fear, knowing how close they had come to losing him before.

"His heart sounds stable," Dr. Song murmured, adjusting the stethoscope around his neck. "That's a good sign. No irregularities so far."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room. Seokjin pressed a hand to his chest as if finally allowing himself to breathe. Namjoon’s shoulders sagged, and Yoongi closed his eyes briefly, as though silently thanking whatever force had kept Jeongguk alive.

But the doctor wasn’t finished yet. He leaned closer to Jeongguk, checking his pupils with a small flashlight. “You’re doing well so far, Jeongguk. I know it’s hard to keep your eyes open, but you’re doing great. Just a little longer, alright?”

Jeongguk tried to comply, though his eyelids drooped from sheer exhaustion. Dr. Song gave an approving nod and continued checking Jeongguk’s reflexes by gently pressing along his arms and legs.

"How’s the pain?" Dr. Song asked softly, looking at Jeongguk’s worn face.

Jeongguk’s lips barely moved, but a faint groan escaped—a weak, pitiful sound that broke the hearts of everyone in the room. Namjoon clenched his fists, Seokjin bit down on his lip, and Yoongi’s jaw tightened as he averted his gaze to the floor.

“I’ll adjust his medication to keep him more comfortable,” the doctor reassured them, his voice kind but steady. “We’ll make sure he’s not suffering unnecessarily.”

The doctor paused, his gaze shifting between the hyungs and Jimin, who stood rooted to the spot, his hand still gently holding Jeongguk’s limp one.

“Now,” Dr. Song began, straightening up, “I won’t sugarcoat this. Although Jeongguk waking up is a very positive sign, the road to recovery is going to be difficult.”

Seokjin swallowed hard, the weight of those words settling heavily over them. “How difficult are we talking?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the fear he was trying so hard to keep at bay.

Dr. Song exhaled slowly, his expression somber but honest. “Jeongguk’s body is extremely weak. His muscles have atrophied from being bedridden for so long, and he’ll likely experience a lot pain as he regains movement. Even basic functions—eating on his own, walking, sitting up—will take time.”

“How long?” Namjoon asked, his voice strained but steady, though his knuckles were white from gripping the bed’s rail.

“It’s hard to say,” the doctor admitted, his tone measured. “It could take weeks or even months. Recovery isn’t linear, and he’ll have good days and bad days. Physical therapy will be crucial, but it will also be exhausting for him. Emotionally and mentally, this will be a taxing journey.”

The doctor’s gaze softened as he looked between them. “You need to prepare yourselves. He won’t be the Jeongguk you remember—not right away. He might get frustrated, feel hopeless at times, or push you away.”

Seokjin’s face crumpled slightly, and Yoongi’s breath came out shakily, though he tried to mask it by rubbing a hand over his face. Jimin clenched his teeth, guilt pressing down on his chest like a heavy stone.

“But,” the doctor added with a reassuring smile, “with the right care and patience, he can recover. And the fact that he woke up today—it’s nothing short of a miracle. It means he’s still fighting.”

Jimin’s throat burned, and he blinked rapidly to stop the tears threatening to fall. He looked down at Jeongguk’s hand in his, feeling the weak pulse under his fingertips. He wasn’t sure how much Jeongguk could hear or understand, but he gave his hand a gentle squeeze, silently promising him that he would be there every step of the way.

“We’ll be here,” Namjoon murmured, his voice low but resolute. “Whatever it takes.”

Seokjin nodded firmly. “We’ll help him through this. Together.”

Yoongi, still holding himself together by a thread, gave a quiet hum of agreement. "He won’t go through this alone."

The doctor offered them all a warm smile before stepping back. “You’re a good support system for him. That’s going to make all the difference.”

The nurse finished adjusting Jeongguk’s IV drip, and the doctor gave her a nod of approval. “We’ll keep monitoring him closely over the next few days,” Dr. Song added. “Call us if anything feels off, no matter how small.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Seokjin whispered, bowing his head slightly, his voice thick with emotion.

With a final glance at Jeongguk and an encouraging smile to the others, Dr. Song and the nurse quietly exited the room, leaving them in the soft hum of the heart monitor’s steady beeping.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Namjoon sank into the chair beside Jeongguk’s bed, burying his face in his hands. “He’s going to be okay,” he whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it true.

Seokjin stood at Jeongguk’s other side, brushing a hand through Jeongguk’s damp hair. “We’ll get through this,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “We have to.”

Yoongi sat down heavily on the windowsill, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers tangled in his hair as he exhaled shakily. “We’re with you, Guk,” he whispered under his breath. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Jimin remained where he was, sitting quietly beside Jeongguk, overwhelmed by the weight of the journey that lay ahead. But as he gazed down at the alpha’s peaceful face, determination burned in his chest.

He leaned closer, whispering softly, “You’re not alone, Jeongguk. We’ll fight with you. Every step of the way.”

Jimin thought he had braced himself for the challenge when the doctor warned them about the difficulties ahead. But nothing could have prepared him for how heart-wrenching the first week would be. Every time Jeongguk winced or whimpered in pain, it felt like a knife to Jimin’s heart. His legs ached from standing by Jeongguk’s bedside for hours, but none of that mattered. All he wanted was to make Jeongguk feel safe—even if the alpha’s fragile state terrified him.

Jeongguk couldn’t speak yet—his throat too raw, his body too weak—but he could understand them. He communicated through small nods, shaky head movements, and the slightest twitches of his fingers. But even those simple actions left him breathless and trembling, his body betraying him in ways it never had before.

The first time Jeongguk tried to lift his arm, it had taken everything out of him. Jimin and Seokjin had been standing on either side of the bed, offering words of encouragement.

“Take your time, Guk,” Seokjin said, his voice soft, though tension tightened the edges of his words.

Jeongguk’s brows furrowed as he tried to lift his hand from the bed, his fingers trembling with the effort. His face twisted in frustration as his muscles refused to cooperate. A faint groan escaped him—a sound so filled with pain that Jimin had to turn away briefly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying.

“You’re doing great,” Jimin whispered, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand gently when the alpha’s fingers twitched in frustration. “You’re so strong. I’m here, okay? I’ve got you.”

Jeongguk gave the barest of nods, but his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. His whole body shook from the exertion, and a pained wheeze slipped past his lips as he let his arm fall back to the bed.

“It’s okay,” Seokjin reassured quickly, brushing a hand through Jeongguk’s damp hair. “Don’t push yourself too hard. We’ll try again later.”

The nights were the worst.

When the physical therapists left for the day, the room would descend into a quiet that felt almost suffocating. Jimin and the hyungs took turns staying overnight with Jeongguk, but Jimin found himself unable to leave most nights.

Jeongguk’s sleep was restless. His body, still adjusting to movement, would ache through the night. Sometimes, Jeongguk would wake up with a soft, pained whimper, shifting in discomfort. The sound would cut through Jimin’s chest like a blade, making him sit bolt upright in his chair beside the bed.

“I’m here,” Jimin whispered one night, sliding his chair closer to the bed. He reached out to gently brush his hand along Jeongguk’s arm, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay, Jeongguk. I’ve got you.”

Jeongguk’s fingers twitched weakly toward him, and Jimin took his hand without hesitation, holding it between his palms. “Shh… It’s okay. Try to sleep,” Jimin murmured, even though he knew how hard it was for Jeongguk to rest through the pain.

Everyday tasks became rituals of care.

Seokjin was meticulous when it came to keeping Jeongguk clean, ensuring that his skin was cared for despite his inability to move. With a warm, damp cloth in hand, Seokjin gently wiped Jeongguk’s arms and legs, speaking to him in a soothing voice.

“You need to stay fresh, Guk,” Seokjin muttered under his breath, carefully wiping around the IV lines taped to Jeongguk’s pale skin. “I know this sucks, but you’ll feel better once we’re done.”

Jeongguk gave a faint nod, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion, but there was trust in his gaze as he watched his hyung work.

Yoongi was quiet but observant, always adjusting Jeongguk’s pillows or lifting the blankets to make sure he was comfortable. “If you’re too warm, just blink, okay?” Yoongi would murmur, waiting patiently for any small movement from Jeongguk.

Namjoon handled everything practical—tracking Jeongguk’s medications, taking notes during doctor updates, and ensuring the physical therapy schedules were followed. “We’re going to get through this, Jeongguk,” Namjoon promised every morning. “One step at a time.”

But it wasn’t without moments of frustration.

Jeongguk, used to being strong and capable, sometimes grew overwhelmed by how little he could do. One afternoon, after trying to move his legs and failing, Jeongguk let out a small, broken sob. His whole body trembled with frustration, and he turned his face into the pillow, hiding his tears.

“Hey, hey…” Jimin whispered, panic rising in his chest. He leaned over the bed, his hand sliding gently over Jeongguk’s hair. “It’s okay, Jeongguk. It’s okay.”

Jeongguk shook his head weakly, silent tears spilling onto the pillow. The sight of him—so defeated, so unlike the stubborn, determined alpha Jimin had always known—made Jimin’s throat tighten painfully.

“I know it’s hard,” Jimin whispered, brushing his fingers lightly through Jeongguk’s hair. “But you’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeongguk’s hand twitched, and Jimin instinctively took it, holding it tightly. “We’ll get through this,” Jimin promised, his voice steady even though his heart ached. “Together.”

The small victories became their lifelines.

On the fifth day, Jeongguk managed to lift his hand without assistance, holding it in the air for a full three seconds before it fell back to the mattress. It was a small movement—barely anything—but it felt monumental.

Seokjin grinned so widely his cheeks hurt. “See that, Guk? You did that! We told you—you’re getting stronger.”

Namjoon clapped him gently on the shoulder, a rare, proud smile spreading across his face. “We’re going to celebrate that,” he said, jotting down the milestone in Jeongguk’s recovery journal.

Jimin leaned close, his grin soft and full of warmth. “I knew you could do it,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

By the end of the first week, exhaustion had settled over all of them like a heavy blanket, but none of them gave up.

Each day was a battle against pain, fear, and exhaustion, but it was also proof of their love for Jeongguk. They fought with him, for him, refusing to let him go through it alone.

Every moment of care—the wiping of his skin, the soothing whispers, the shared tears—was a promise that they would see this through to the end. Jimin stayed by his side, holding his hand through the worst moments and celebrating the smallest victories.

Because no matter how hard it got, Jimin knew one thing: Jeongguk was worth it. And he wasn’t going to let him fight this battle alone.

There were days when life pulled Jeongguk’s hyungs away—uni, work, responsibilities, the realities they couldn’t escape—and on those days, Jimin found himself alone with Jeongguk. The silence that filled the hospital room was heavy, but it wasn’t suffocating. It was filled with the quiet hum of the machines, the rhythmic beeping of Jeongguk’s heart monitor, and the soft shuffling of Jimin as he moved around.

During these times, Jimin was caught between two emotions: fear and gratitude. Fear that one wrong breath, one fleeting second, might take Jeongguk from him. And gratitude—overwhelming gratitude—that he was here. By Jeongguk’s side. Holding his hand. Witnessing every breath, every small victory, and every painful struggle firsthand.

Throughout the day, Jimin would sit by Jeongguk’s bed, their fingers intertwined. It was a habit that started the day Jeongguk woke up and had never stopped. Even when Jeongguk drifted off to sleep—sometimes peacefully, sometimes with a pained whimper—his hand remained firmly around Jimin’s, as if letting go was never an option for him.

There were nights when Jimin sat silently in the darkened room, watching the faint rise and fall of Jeongguk’s chest. His heart would stutter every time Jeongguk’s thumb brushed faintly across the back of his hand, or when the alpha gave the gentlest squeeze in his sleep, as if reassuring himself that Jimin was still there. Jimin had never let anyone touch him this intimately, this naturally—never allowed anyone this close. Yet now, he found himself clinging to these moments, craving Jeongguk’s touch like it was a lifeline.

It was in these simple touches that Jimin realized something terrifying and wonderful: he didn’t just care about Jeongguk—he had fallen for him completely. And it wasn’t because of guilt or obligation, but because Jeongguk made him feel like someone worth holding on to.

As Jeongguk’s voice returned, so did his stubbornness. Talking was still difficult, every word a battle, but Jeongguk fought through it. His sentences were slow, broken by heavy breaths, and often incomplete. But every word was precious. Each one was proof that he was fighting his way back to the world.

One quiet afternoon, Jimin sat beside him, their hands intertwined like always. Jeongguk stirred, his dark eyes fluttering open, the familiar weight of exhaustion evident in his gaze. His lips trembled slightly, and Jimin leaned closer, brushing his fingers over the back of Jeongguk’s hand.

“Hey, you awake?” Jimin whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Jeongguk gave the faintest nod, his breathing labored but steady. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, never left Jimin’s face.

“Jimin...” Jeongguk whispered, his voice rough and hoarse, each syllable drawn out with effort.

It was a struggle to speak, but it was always Jimin’s name. Always. Jimin couldn’t help but wonder if it was the only word Jeongguk truly wanted to say around him. And every time, hearing it made his heart swell. He was needed. For the first time in so long, he felt truly needed.

Jimin shifted closer, dragging his chair toward the bed until their joined hands rested on the edge of the blanket. His other hand rose instinctively to brush a few strands of Jeongguk’s hair back from his damp forehead. “I’m here,” Jimin murmured softly. “What do you need, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk’s brows furrowed slightly as if forming the words cost him everything, but he tried anyway. “Th—... thank...” He stopped to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. “... you...”

Jimin’s throat tightened, and his vision blurred with tears he fought desperately to keep at bay. He shook his head, offering Jeongguk a shaky smile. “There’s no need to thank me,” he whispered, though his voice cracked at the end.

Jeongguk shook his head slowly, determined to be understood. His hand gave a weak squeeze around Jimin’s fingers. “Thank... you...” he whispered again, the weight of the words more than Jimin could bear.

Jimin blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. He leaned down, bringing Jeongguk’s hand to his lips, and kissed the back of it gently, lingering there for a moment. “Always,” Jimin whispered against his skin, his voice trembling with emotion.

Jeongguk’s gaze softened, his expression one of peace despite the exhaustion etched into his features.

The second week of Jeongguk’s recovery was somehow harder than the first. The initial relief of him waking up slowly gave way to the harsh reality of recovery—long, grueling, and unpredictable.

One of the worst parts was the nausea caused by the medications.

Every attempt to eat became an exhausting battle.

Jimin sat beside Jeongguk one morning, gently stirring a bowl of porridge Seokjin had cooked for him. Jeongguk’s face was pale, his head resting heavily against the pillow. His eyes flickered open slowly when Jimin’s voice reached him.

"Let’s try a few bites, okay?" Jimin coaxed gently, lifting the spoon to Jeongguk’s lips.

Jeongguk looked hesitant, but he gave a faint nod. His lips parted, and Jimin carefully fed him a small spoonful. It seemed fine at first—Jeongguk swallowed slowly, his gaze never leaving Jimin’s face.

"Good," Jimin whispered encouragingly. "You’re doing so well, Jeongguk. Just one more bite."

But just a few spoonfuls in, Jeongguk’s breathing hitched, and his face twisted in discomfort. His hand flew to his stomach.

"Jimin..." Jeongguk choked, his voice thin with panic.

And then it happened—Jeongguk gagged, his fragile body convulsing as he threw up what little food he’d managed to eat. Jimin was at his side in an instant, rubbing slow circles on his back as Jeongguk coughed and gasped for air.

"It’s okay," Jimin murmured, grabbing tissues to wipe Jeongguk’s mouth. "It’s okay, Guk. Just breathe, alright?"

But it wasn’t okay—not to Jeongguk. His body trembled as he slumped back against the pillows, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears. He looked so defeated, so broken.

"I’m sorry," Jeongguk whispered, his voice cracking as the tears began to fall freely. "I—I can’t even eat properly. I’m useless."

"Jeongguk, don’t say that," Jimin whispered, brushing the damp hair off the alpha’s forehead. "You’re doing your best."

But Jeongguk shook his head, silent sobs wracking his fragile frame. He was exhausted—emotionally, mentally, physically. And as Jimin reached for him again, Jeongguk turned his head, biting his lip so hard it looked painful.

"Are you tired of me?" Jeongguk whispered, his voice so quiet and filled with fear that it shattered Jimin. His bloodshot eyes flickered toward Jimin, and in that gaze was every insecurity, every fear, laid bare. "I’m sorry, Jimin. Are you tired of me?"

Jimin’s breath hitched, the weight of Jeongguk’s words crashing over him like a wave. He felt his chest tighten, emotions rising so fast he could barely breathe.

"No," Jimin whispered, his voice thick with tears. He shook his head fiercely. "Never, Jeongguk. Never."

Jeongguk’s lips trembled, fresh tears slipping down his pale cheeks. "I’m sorry… I just—"

"Shh. Calm down. Stress is not good for you." Jimin cupped Jeongguk’s cheek, brushing away the tears with his thumb. "Don’t apologize, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you through everything. You hear me? I’m not tired, and I’ll never be tired of you."

Jeongguk’s hand, trembling and weak, reached for Jimin’s. Jimin took it instantly, lacing their fingers together and holding on tight, as if he could anchor Jeongguk to reality, to hope.

"It’s okay, Guk," Jimin whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of Jeongguk’s hand. "We’ll try again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. We’ll do this together, one step at a time. Just don’t give up. Please."

Jeongguk gave a small, shaky nod, his tears still falling, but his grip on Jimin’s hand tightened just slightly, as if drawing strength from the connection.

Jimin kissed his knuckles again, his own tears now streaming down freely. "I’m here. Always. No matter what, Jeongguk. I’ll stay."

And in that moment, Jimin realized something profound—this wasn’t just about making sure Jeongguk recovered physically. It was about showing him, every single day, that he wasn’t a burden. That he was loved, cherished, and worth every ounce of effort.

They sat in silence, the room filled only with the soft sounds of their breathing, and though the path ahead was still long and uncertain, Jimin knew one thing with absolute certainty: He would fight for Jeongguk, no matter how hard it got. Because Jeongguk was worth it. Every second, every struggle, every tear.

And he would make sure Jeongguk knew that every day from now on.

Jeongguk sat slumped at the edge of the therapy bed, sweat trickling down his temples, his face pale and drawn. His chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths, each inhale each inhale scraping painfully.

Jimin stood nearby, clutching a bottle of water and a towel, his heart aching at the sight of Jeongguk struggling. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi hovered close, worry etched on their faces.

"Okay, Jeongguk, let’s try again," the physical therapist encouraged gently. "Just one step. Take your time, no rush."

Jeongguk clenched his jaw, gripping the parallel bars in front of him as he tried to stand. His legs trembled under his weight, his muscles weak and unsteady after months of lying in bed. Jimin’s hands instinctively shot forward, ready to catch him if he fell, but Jeongguk shook his head slightly.

"I’ve got it," Jeongguk mumbled, though the words sounded more like a plea than confidence.

He lifted his foot slowly, planting it forward with painstaking effort. The movement, small and unremarkable to an outsider, was monumental for Jeongguk. His body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, his heart racing faster than it should.

Namjoon leaned in from the side. "You’re doing good, Guk. Just keep going."

Jeongguk nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. But by the second step, his breath hitched, and his chest seized painfully. He gasped, his grip on the bars tightening as his legs gave out beneath him.

"Shit!" Jeongguk stumbled, his knees buckling. Seokjin rushed to his side, grabbing him before he collapsed completely.

"It’s okay! We’ve got you," Seokjin said quickly, helping Jeongguk sit back on the therapy bed.

Jeongguk doubled over, clutching his chest as his breath came in wheezing gasps. "I can’t… I can’t breathe—"

"Easy, Guk. Breathe slowly," Yoongi crouched beside him, keeping his voice calm. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

But Jeongguk couldn’t calm down. He hit the side of the bed in frustration, tears of exhaustion and humiliation brimming in his eyes.

"Why can’t I do this?" Jeongguk whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "Why is everything so hard?"

Jimin knelt in front of him, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Guk, it’s not your fault. You’re doing your best. That’s all that matters."

Jeongguk shook his head violently, frustration spilling over into sobs. "I hate this! I hate being so weak!" He sucked in a sharp breath, his chest spasming painfully. "I’m useless—"

"Hey, stop that," Namjoon cut in firmly but gently, crouching beside Jeongguk. "You’re not useless. This is part of the process. It’s hard, but you’re not alone in this, okay?"

Seokjin brushed Jeongguk’s damp hair back, his expression soft with worry. "You’ve been through so much already, Guk. It’s okay to struggle."

But Jeongguk’s sobs only worsened, his body trembling as his breathing became more erratic. "I—I can’t—"

"Jeongguk, listen to me," Jimin said quickly, reaching for his hands. "Look at me. Just breathe with me, okay? Slow breaths, in and out."

Jimin demonstrated, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. "Come on, with me, Guk."

Jeongguk tried to follow, but his breath kept hitching, each attempt worsening the strain on his heart.

"We need to calm him down," Yoongi whispered, his voice urgent but steady. "He can’t keep stressing like this—it’ll hurt him more."

Namjoon moved closer, resting a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder. "Guk, you’re not alone, alright? We’re here. You’ll get through this."

Jeongguk buried his face in his hands, his tears spilling over as his body shook with quiet sobs. "I just… I hate being like this. I don’t want to feel like this anymore."

Jimin’s heart shattered at the sight of Jeongguk breaking down. He wrapped his arms around Jeongguk without hesitation, holding him tightly. "You don’t have to do this alone, Jeongguk. We’re here with you. I’m here with you."

Jeongguk clung to Jimin like a lifeline, his sobs slowing as Jimin whispered soft reassurances in his ear. "You’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know, and I’m so proud of you for trying."

Seokjin knelt beside them, wiping away his own tears discreetly. "You’ve come this far, Guk. That’s not nothing."

After a long moment, Jeongguk’s sobs quieted, and he leaned heavily into Jimin’s arms, exhaustion overtaking him.

Yoongi offered a bottle of water, his voice softer now. "Here. Small sips, okay?"

Jeongguk nodded weakly, taking the bottle with trembling hands. He sipped slowly, leaning into Jimin’s side as the tears dried on his cheeks.

"That’s it," Namjoon whispered, rubbing soothing circles on Jeongguk’s back. "You did good, Guk. You’ve got nothing to prove to us."

Jimin pressed a kiss to the top of Jeongguk’s head, his own eyes wet with tears. "One step at a time. That’s all you need to focus on."

Jeongguk gave a small, shaky nod, his hand clutching Jimin’s tightly as if afraid to let go.

"Tomorrow will be better," Jimin whispered. "We’ll try again, together."

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth and support of his hyungs, Jeongguk finally exhaled. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t be easy, but he knew he wasn’t alone. And maybe, that was enough.

As each day passed, Jeongguk’s condition showed visible improvement. His appetite was back, and the constant nausea that plagued him during the first few weeks had eased. The first time Jeongguk managed to eat a full bowl of rice without feeling sick, his hyungs had nearly thrown a party in his hospital room.

“Guess what?” Jeongguk grinned weakly one afternoon, his voice still a little hoarse but filled with playful mischief. “When I’m out of here, I want the most expensive steak from that fancy place down the block.”

Seokjin’s eyes twinkled, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “You think we won’t?”

Jeongguk laughed softly, shaking his head. “It’s a joke, hyung! That place costs a fortune.”

But the next day, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Yoongi returned, balancing takeout bags from the expensive restaurant.

“Guess what?” Namjoon said smugly, placing the bags on the small hospital table. “We did it.”

“You actually bought it?” Jeongguk’s jaw dropped, disbelief written all over his face.

“Of course, we did,” Yoongi replied with a small shrug, pulling out containers of steak and sides. “You think we’d pass up the chance to spoil you?”

Jeongguk looked between them, his heart full, torn between gratitude and guilt. “You guys are unbelievable. That probably killed your wallets.”

Seokjin waved him off, grinning. “It’s worth it. Besides, it’s not every day you get steak in a hospital.”

They all laughed, the sound filling the room like a warm blanket of comfort. As they shared the steak—cutting it into small, manageable bites for Jeongguk—he realized how lucky he was to have them. Even though he could only eat a few pieces, it was one of the best meals he’d had in a long time, not just because of the food but because of the love surrounding him.

Physical therapy was finally showing promising results. Jeongguk could move around more freely, taking slow, measured steps without the same struggle that once left him gasping for air. Though he still needed support from time to time—someone to hold him steady or help him sit when his legs gave out—he was making real progress. The color had returned to his cheeks, and the frailness in his body was slowly giving way to strength. His appetite was back, his words less strained, and his personality was starting to shine again.

Jimin noticed it all, every little change, every small victory. He saw it in the way Jeongguk’s smile stretched wider with each passing day, a smile no longer weighed down by pain. He saw it in the way Jeongguk’s movements became more fluid during therapy, each step taken with newfound confidence. And when Jeongguk finished his meals without the nausea that once haunted him, Jimin felt his heart swell with pride. It was the little things—the way Jeongguk no longer fought to catch his breath, the way his once-thin frame began to fill out again—that filled Jimin with overwhelming joy.

One day, after a particularly good session, Jeongguk plopped down on the therapy bench, slightly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear. “I swear, I’m getting faster. You guys saw that, right?” he panted, wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

Seokjin clapped him on the back, his expression full of pride. “I’ve seen newborn colts move slower than that,” he teased, grinning widely. “At this rate, you’ll be sprinting by next week.”

Jeongguk chuckled, still catching his breath. “I doubt that, hyung, but it feels good to walk again. I thought I’d never do it without collapsing.”

Namjoon knelt beside him, handing him a water bottle. “You’ve come a long way, Guk. We’re proud of you,” he said, his voice gentle but full of sincerity. “But don’t overdo it. Small steps, remember?”

Yoongi, sitting nearby with his arms crossed, gave a rare, soft smile. “It’s good to see you up and moving, Jeongguk. Just don’t let that competitive streak of yours land you back in bed.”

Jeongguk laughed softly. “No promises.”

Jimin, sitting beside Jeongguk, couldn’t stop smiling. “You did amazing today,” he said quietly, their shoulders brushing as he leaned closer. “I told you you’d get stronger.”

Jeongguk gave him a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “It’s because you wouldn’t let me slack off,” he teased, bumping his knee against Jimin’s.

The teasing felt light, natural. It made Jimin’s heart ache with both relief and gratitude to have this version of Jeongguk slowly returning to him.

Another day during therapy, Jeongguk managed to walk the entire length of the hallway with only the help of a walker. It was an accomplishment that left everyone in awe.

“I bet I could walk to the cafeteria and back,” Jeongguk announced, slightly out of breath but grinning.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The cafeteria is across the building.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whined, pouting dramatically. “Have some faith.”

Namjoon chuckled, standing beside him like a patient guardian. “We have faith, Jeongguk. Just not in your sense of moderation.”

Jeongguk let out a laugh that was music to their ears, a sound they hadn’t heard in so long. “Fair point.”

When the session ended, and Jeongguk sat back on the bench, his body tired but his spirit light, Jimin knelt in front of him, gently unlacing his sneakers.

“You okay?” Jimin asked softly, looking up at Jeongguk with concern.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk whispered, his voice softer now. “Just… really happy.”

Jimin gave him a small, warm smile, squeezing his hand. “Me too.”

One evening, after Jeongguk had eaten a full meal without any signs of nausea, he stretched his arms above his head with a satisfied sigh. “I think I want steak again,” he said, grinning mischievously.

Yoongi scoffed, though there was amusement in his eyes. “You’ve already eaten us out of house and home. What’s next? Lobster?”

Jeongguk shrugged, still grinning. “If you’re offering.”

Namjoon shook his head with a chuckle. “This kid.”

Seokjin leaned in, ruffling Jeongguk’s hair affectionately. “You know we’d get it for you,” he said, his voice soft with affection. “We’d buy out the whole restaurant if it meant seeing you happy.”

Jeongguk’s grin faltered slightly, replaced by something softer—something grateful. “You guys spoil me too much,” he whispered, his eyes glistening.

“You deserve it,” Jimin said quietly, sitting beside him.

Jeongguk glanced at him, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You think so?”

Jimin nodded, his hand finding Jeongguk’s and squeezing gently. “I know so.”

Watching Jeongguk’s recovery brought both joy and bittersweet relief to everyone around him. The hyungs watched over him with unwavering care, always ready to help him when he needed it. Whether it was Namjoon guiding him through breathing exercises, Seokjin making sure he ate enough, or Yoongi making sure he took all of his medications and quietly sitting by his side during difficult moments, their love for Jeongguk was evident in every small action.

Jimin saw it all—the way Seokjin would gently wipe Jeongguk’s face with a damp cloth after therapy, murmuring soft encouragements. The way Namjoon would rub soothing circles on Jeongguk’s back when he struggled to catch his breath. And the way Yoongi, usually quiet and reserved, would offer a rare but meaningful smile whenever Jeongguk took a step forward, no matter how small.

It was in these moments that Jimin realized just how deeply Jeongguk was loved—and just how much he wanted to be part of that love.

The night before Jeongguk’s discharge, the hospital room was quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Jimin had insisted that the hyungs go home to rest. It hadn’t been easy—he had practically begged them, promising that he would stay by Jeongguk’s side all night. Namjoon had hesitated, Yoongi had been reluctant, and Seokjin had worn a worried frown, but in the end, exhaustion had won them over.

“We’ll be back first thing in the morning,” Namjoon had said sternly, giving Jimin a look that spoke volumes: Take care of him.

“I will,” Jimin had whispered, grateful.

And now, it was just the two of them.

Jeongguk sat on the bed, freshly changed into a clean hospital gown after finishing a light meal. His fingers were intertwined with Jimin’s, holding on gently but firmly, as if the contact anchored him. It was the first time they’d held hands with Jeongguk fully conscious and aware. Usually, Jeongguk was half-asleep or too drained to care. Now, though, the alpha was acutely aware of the closeness—and it showed.

Jeongguk kept his gaze down, avoiding eye contact with Jimin, his ears flushed a deep red. His thumb absentmindedly brushed over Jimin’s index finger in small, nervous circles, as though it soothed him.

Jimin’s lips twitched at the sight. Cute, he thought, his heart fluttering.

“How are you feeling?” Jimin asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Jeongguk gave a small glance, but the moment their eyes met, he looked away again, his blush deepening. “I feel good,” he mumbled, voice quieter than usual.

A laugh escaped Jimin before he could stop it. He had never seen Jeongguk so shy before—it was endearing. The same alpha who had boldly chased after him, persistent and full of life, now sat blushing like a flustered teenager.

“Are you excited to finally get discharged tomorrow?” Jimin teased gently, leaning closer.

“Yeah… can’t wait to stop wearing this tacky hospital gown,” Jeongguk grumbled, pouting at the fabric. “I’ve been wearing this for how long? Three? Four months now?”

Jimin chuckled. “Why? I think you look good in it.”

Jeongguk shot him a suspicious look, frowning. “Are you making fun of me?” He sounded serious, but the gentleness in his tone was unmistakable.

“No!” Jimin exclaimed, holding back a grin. “I’m not making fun of you. You’ve always looked good. Even now.”

Jeongguk’s expression softened, his frown giving way to a small, bashful smile. “Oh... so you think I look good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice dipping into a playful tone as he tried to cover his embarrassment.

Jimin bit his lip, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. “Yeah... I do.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk blinked rapidly, clearly not expecting the straightforward answer. His fingers curled tighter around Jimin’s, holding him close, as if afraid to let go.

The warmth of Jeongguk’s hand in his own made Jimin’s chest ache with emotions he could barely contain. This moment—being here, holding Jeongguk’s hand, seeing him alive and healing—was something he hadn’t dared to hope for just a few months ago. His voice softened as he spoke again.

“I also think you’re amazing, Jeongguk.” Jimin’s voice trembled slightly. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through so much, and yet, you never gave up. You kept going, even when everything was against you.” His voice cracked, emotion bubbling to the surface. “I hope I can be half as brave as you.”

Jeongguk’s breath hitched at the words, his dark eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Jimin...” he whispered, voice raw and fragile.

There was so much they hadn’t talked about—so many unspoken words hanging between them. The weight of everything that had happened lingered heavily, and Jimin knew they couldn’t avoid it forever. Jeongguk deserved the truth. He deserved an apology, and Jimin knew he had to say it, no matter how scared he was of what Jeongguk’s response might be.

Jimin took a shaky breath, mustering every ounce of courage he had. “Jeongguk... I need to tell you something.”

Jeongguk nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Jimin’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispered, voice breaking under the weight of the apology. “I’m so, so sorry for that day. For everything.” He swallowed hard, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. “I... I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. How could I not?”

Jeongguk stared at him, eyes wide with surprise and something else—something soft and vulnerable that made Jimin’s heart clench.

“You were always so good to me,” Jimin continued, his voice thick with emotion. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. You... you lit up my world, Jeongguk. On days when everything felt too heavy, you made it better just by being there. But I was too scared to admit how I felt.”

Jimin’s grip on Jeongguk’s hand tightened, as if afraid that letting go would mean losing him all over again. “I was scared of what would happen if I let myself fall for you—if I let myself love you. You saw what happened to my mom... You know why I was so terrified.” He paused, voice trembling. “I was afraid of ending up like her, of being hurt, of losing myself in a bond that would destroy me.”

Jeongguk’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, his fingers trembling slightly in Jimin’s grasp.

“I knew, deep down, you weren’t like that. That you wouldn’t do that. But I couldn’t let myself believe it. I was so scared you’d hurt me that I ended up hurting you instead.” A sob escaped Jimin’s throat, and he tried to steady himself. “When I saw you that day... on the ground, barely breathing... I realized I didn’t just like you. I love you.”

Jeongguk’s breath hitched, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“I was so scared of losing you forever,” Jimin whispered, his heart aching with every word. “So scared that I’d never see you smile again, that I’d never hear your voice or feel your presence beside me. And I hate myself for taking so long to realize it.”

Jimin’s voice cracked as he continued. “I’m sorry, Jeongguk. For every harsh word, for every time I pushed you away when all you wanted was to be close to me. I was an idiot. I didn’t deserve you... and I’ll understand if you don’t want me here anymore.”

Tears blurred Jimin’s vision as he looked down, his heart heavy with guilt and fear. “But please... just let me see you. That’s all I ask. Even if you never forgive me, even if you don’t want me to stay... I just need to know you’re okay.” His voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry...”

Jeongguk reached up with a shaky hand, cupping Jimin’s cheek. His thumb brushed away the tears that spilled down the omega’s face, his touch feather-light.

“You idiot,” Jeongguk whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “How could you think I wouldn’t want you here?” Jimin’s heart stuttered in his chest as Jeongguk gave his hand a small squeeze. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that?” Jeongguk asked, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’ve loved you for so long, Jimin. Even when you pushed me away, even when it hurt... I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.”

Jimin let out a broken sob, overwhelmed by the raw sincerity in Jeongguk’s words.

“And I was never going to leave you,” Jeongguk whispered, his voice trembling but sure. “Not then, not now, not ever.”

Jimin leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Jeongguk’s. Their tears mingled as they stayed like that—breathing each other in, sharing the silence, and finding solace in each other’s presence.

“I’m so sorry,” Jimin whispered again, his voice cracking. “I’ll never hurt you again, Jeongguk. I promise.”

Jeongguk gave him a small, tearful smile. “Good,” he murmured. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

Jimin laughed through his tears, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Jeongguk was here—alive, breathing, and holding him close. And that was all that mattered.

The morning sunlight spilled warmly through the hospital windows, marking the end of a chapter that felt like it had lasted a lifetime. The room buzzed with a bittersweet energy as Jeongguk sat on the edge of his bed, carefully adjusting the hem of his hoodie. His heart monitor had been disconnected, the IV line removed, and now all that remained was the excited hum of the people who loved him.

“Hyung, you folded these pants weird,” Jeongguk muttered, eyeing the small duffel bag Namjoon had packed for him. He glanced at his sweatpants, one brow raised.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, dragging the bag off the bed. “You’re lucky I even folded them. I was this close to throwing them in there like a paper ball.”

“You probably did,” Yoongi quipped from the corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest, his usual deadpan expression tinged with warmth.

Jeongguk grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had in months.

Seokjin hovered nearby, meticulously fluffing Jeongguk’s pillow even though Jeongguk wouldn’t be using it anymore. “This is the first day of freedom, Jeongguk-ah,” he said dramatically. “You need to look good and feel good. Just wait ‘til we take you outside and the sunlight blinds you. It’s going to be magical.”

Jimin, seated on a chair beside Jeongguk, burst out laughing. “Are you trying to make it sound like he’s leaving prison, hyung?”

“In a way, he is.” Seokjin clapped his hands together with a theatrical sigh. “From the shackles of tacky hospital gowns to the glory of oversized hoodies. This is progress .”

“Progress is you not making everything about clothes,” Yoongi muttered, though there was a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Jeongguk chuckled softly, grateful for their banter. He felt lighter—finally free from the weight of the hospital room, the endless hum of machines, and the constant reminders of how fragile his body had become. Today, he was being discharged, and even though he still had a long road to recovery, he could finally breathe outside air, walk on familiar streets, and eat something that didn’t come with a side of guilt-inducing hospital pudding.

“Okay, enough with the roasting,” Namjoon said, adjusting the strap of Jeongguk’s duffel bag over his shoulder. “Let’s get him out of here before Seokjin starts taking group photos.”

Jeongguk snorted. “You know he’s going to, right?”

Seokjin raised his phone proudly. “It’s already happening. Say cheese.”

Jeongguk groaned, burying his face in his hands while Jimin and the others laughed. “Hyung, come on!”

“You’ll thank me for this later, when we all cry over how far you’ve come,” Seokjin said, grinning as he snapped a quick photo. “Okay, okay. Let’s get moving.”

Jimin stood, offering his hand to Jeongguk. “Need help?”

Jeongguk gave him a lopsided grin, taking his hand without hesitation. “I can walk on my own, you know.”

“I know,” Jimin murmured, squeezing his hand lightly. “But just in case.”

With Jimin’s hand, Jeongguk stood slowly. His legs trembled slightly, not from pain but from the unfamiliarity of standing without any wires or tubes attached to him. He took a moment to breathe, his hand still in Jimin’s. When he finally took a step forward, his heart swelled at the sound of Namjoon’s quiet but proud “That’s it, Guk.”

They moved slowly, with Jimin walking beside Jeongguk like a silent promise that he wouldn’t let him fall. Yoongi trailed just behind them, carrying an extra blanket they had “borrowed” from the hospital for Jeongguk’s lap in case he got cold during the car ride home. Seokjin, of course, walked ahead, making sure the path was clear.

“Don’t rush, Jeongguk,” Yoongi reminded, his voice soft. “If you need to rest, just say so.”

Jeongguk nodded, focusing on each step. Though his movements were careful, every step felt like a small victory.

When they reached the lobby, the nurse on duty gave them a cheerful wave. “Ah, Mr. Jeon! You’re finally free. Congratulations!”

Jeongguk grinned, bowing his head slightly. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Don’t make us cry in the lobby, Jeongguk,” Namjoon said with mock severity, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder. “We’ve got a schedule.”

Jeongguk chuckled, his heart warm as he watched his hyungs dote on him in their unique ways. The car was waiting just outside, and Seokjin rushed ahead to pull open the door.

“VIP service,” Seokjin announced, bowing dramatically.

“Unbelievable,” Jeongguk muttered, though he smiled as he climbed carefully into the car with Jimin’s help.

Once they were all inside, Namjoon turned in his seat, looking back at Jeongguk. “How’s it feel to be out?”

Jeongguk let out a deep breath, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Amazing.”

Jimin couldn’t help but smile too. The way Jeongguk’s entire being seemed lighter filled him with overwhelming joy.

Seokjin started the car, glancing at them through the rearview mirror. “Alright, next stop—lunch. What do you feel like eating, Jeongguk? Name it.”

Jeongguk’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “How about that steak from the fancy restaurant? You know, the one that almost ruined your bank accounts?”

Yoongi groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing his temple. “Why do I feel like this is a bad idea?”

Jimin laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within his chest. “You brought this upon yourselves.”

“I’m only doing this because of you, brat,” Namjoon said, shooting him a pointed look. “Don’t expect this every day.”

Jeongguk grinned. “Noted.”

The car filled with laughter as they made their way through the city streets, heading toward a future that felt brighter than it had in months. They still had a long journey ahead of them, but for now, all that mattered was that Jeongguk was here—alive, surrounded by the people who loved him, and finally on the road to recovery.

And as Jimin sat beside him, their hands still intertwined, he knew he would walk every step of that journey with Jeongguk—no matter how long it took.

Since Jeongguk had been discharged from the hospital, Jimin had never left his side. It was almost like they had switched roles—as if now it was Jimin who was chasing Jeongguk, making sure to always be the one looking for him on campus, waiting outside his classes, or catching up with him after lectures. Jeongguk didn’t need to exert himself or push too hard, not when Jimin was already there before he could even try.

And Jimin didn’t mind. Not at all. In fact, he was happy—content in a way he hadn’t been in years—because every time Jeongguk caught sight of him, the alpha’s face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds after a long storm. It made everything Jimin had gone through worth it. Seeing Jeongguk smile—truly smile—made all of it worth it.

“You really don’t have to wait for me every time, you know,” Jeongguk told him one afternoon as they walked side by side across the campus grounds. His voice was light, teasing, though the shy flicker in his eyes gave away how much he loved it.

“I want to,” Jimin replied, nudging Jeongguk’s arm with his own. “Besides, you’d just end up waiting for me if I didn’t.”

Jeongguk grinned, biting his lip to keep it from spreading too wide. “I mean, yeah… but it’s not the same if you beat me to it every time.”

Jimin chuckled softly. “Guess you’ll have to try harder, Guk.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge, Jimin-ssi?” Jeongguk tilted his head, his bunny smile making Jimin’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Maybe it is,” Jimin replied, glancing up at him through his lashes with a playful smirk. “Think you can handle it?”

Jeongguk stopped mid-step, turning to Jimin with an exaggerated look of contemplation. “Hmm... Well, considering you’re impossible to catch these days, maybe I’ll have to up my game.”

“Up your game?” Jimin echoed, laughing. “You sound like we’re in a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” Jeongguk teased, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his own. His voice dropped slightly, just enough to make Jimin’s stomach flip. “I mean, you always seem to win. I can’t seem to keep up with you.”

Jimin felt a warm blush creep up his neck, but he quickly looked away to hide it. “You’ll catch me eventually.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk murmured. “But not if I keep getting distracted.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his heart racing. “Oh? And what’s distracting you?”

Jeongguk gave him a sideways glance, his lips quirking up mischievously. “You. Obviously.”

Jimin’s breath hitched, and he rolled his eyes to cover up the way his heart was thudding wildly in his chest. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Jeongguk’s grin widened. “But I’m your ridiculous.”

That made Jimin falter. His heart clenched at the simplicity of those words—words that held more weight than Jeongguk probably realized. He swallowed thickly, his gaze softening as he looked at the alpha.

“Yeah,” Jimin whispered. “You are.”

“Are you sure you're okay?” Jimin frowned, walking beside Jeongguk after they finished their exams. He clung to the alpha’s arm, steadying him, because Jeongguk looked pale and far too worn out for his liking. There was a slight tremor in Jeongguk’s steps that made Jimin's heart twist with worry.

Jeongguk offered him a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes, and it was a little too stiff to be convincing. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes and stopped in his tracks, tugging Jeongguk to a halt with him. “No, you’re not. And what did we talk about? You promised to tell me if you weren’t feeling well. Even if it’s just a little.” His tone was soft but firm—he needed Jeongguk to understand how serious he was about this.

Jeongguk’s shoulders slumped visibly, the weight of guilt settling in them. He looked so small standing there, his eyes dropping to the ground as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Jimin hated scolding him, but it was necessary—Jeongguk had a bad habit of brushing off his own well-being, afraid of being a burden to those around him. And Jimin needed to break that habit, for both of their sakes.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk murmured, his voice low and sincere. His dark eyes met Jimin’s, and it made Jimin’s heart ache to see the guilt swimming there. “I didn’t want you to worry... It’s not serious—”

“Guk.” Jimin gave him a pointed look, cutting him off. He reached up and gently cupped Jeongguk’s face, his thumbs brushing against the alpha’s warm skin. “I will always worry. But it’s not a burden to me. I care about you. I want to care for you. Please let me.”

Jeongguk blinked, clearly taken aback. His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to respond, but no words came out. It was still new to him—this version of Jimin who fussed over him, who didn’t hesitate to show that he cared. And Jeongguk wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to Jimin looking at him like this, like his well-being mattered more than anything else. 

And deep down, no matter how much Jeongguk tried to convince himself otherwise, a lingering fear gnawed at him—what if Jimin was only staying with him out of guilt? What if everything Jimin was doing; the care, the concern, the gentle words, and soft smiles, wasn’t because he truly wanted to be by Jeongguk’s side, but because he felt obligated?

Jeongguk hated that thought. It sat heavy in his chest like a weight he couldn’t shake off. There were moments, late at night when the alpha would lie awake, his mind spiraling into the darkest corners of doubt. What if Jimin only stayed because he felt guilty for everything that had happened? What if he was just trying to make amends because Jeongguk’s near-death experience had scared him?

The fear was irrational, he knew that—or at least, he tried to tell himself that. But every now and then, the thought crept in, lodged deep under his skin: What if Jimin didn’t really want him? What if all of this, their time together, the whispered reassurances, the way Jimin held his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, was just pity disguised as affection?

Jeongguk couldn’t bear the idea of being pitied. He didn’t want to be someone’s charity case. He didn’t want Jimin to stay with him out of obligation, dragging himself through the motions because he felt responsible for Jeongguk’s condition. That thought was worse than anything.

The doubt whispered ugly things in his mind. He’s only here because he feels sorry for you. He’s just waiting until you get better to leave quietly.

Jeongguk didn’t know how to voice those thoughts without sounding ungrateful. He didn’t want to push Jimin away, not now that he was finally here. But the uncertainty festered in the quiet moments between them, creating a wall that Jeongguk didn’t know how to break down.

And every time Jimin reached out—whether it was to squeeze his hand, brush his hair back from his forehead, or murmur soft reassurances—Jeongguk would hesitate for just a fraction of a second, wondering if this was all temporary. How long will it last? he thought bitterly. What if the moment I’m better, he realizes he never wanted me at all?

It scared him more than he could admit. Because Jeongguk wasn’t sure if he’d survive losing Jimin again—not after everything they’d been through.

So, even as he smiled and nodded along to Jimin’s jokes, even as he reached for the omega’s hand like it was the most natural thing to do, that tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered relentlessly: Don’t get too comfortable. He might not stay.

And that fear, as irrational as it seemed, was a shadow that Jeongguk couldn’t quite escape. Because at the end of the day, Jeongguk wanted more than just Jimin’s guilt. He wanted Jimin—fully, completely, without conditions.

“I know,” Jeongguk whispered after a moment. “It’s just... hard. I’ve always dealt with things alone even when I knew I have people around me. It’s a habit that’s hard to break.”

Jimin’s expression softened. “You don’t have to go through it alone anymore,” he said quietly. “You have me, and your hyungs.”

Jeongguk gave him a small nod, his eyes filled with something Jimin couldn’t quite name—something warm, grateful, and vulnerable. “Thank you, Jimin.”

Jimin smiled softly, satisfied for now. But he wasn’t going to let Jeongguk off that easily. “Alright,” he said, tilting his head. “Let me ask you again. Are you really okay?”

Jeongguk hesitated for a beat before shaking his head. “No,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been feeling out of breath since I woke up this morning. I think it’s just... everything catching up to me. Finals, not sleeping well... I’m just tired.”

Jimin’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. He tried to stay calm, not wanting to overwhelm Jeongguk with his worry, but it was difficult not to panic. “Can you describe how you feel exactly?” he asked gently.

Jeongguk let out a slow exhale. “It’s... just hard to breathe sometimes,” he admitted. “Like my chest is heavy, and it takes more effort to get air in. And I get tired so easily. But it’s not serious, I promise—”

“Guk,” Jimin interrupted softly, squeezing his arm. “It’s okay to feel tired. You don’t have to downplay it.”

Jeongguk gave him a sheepish smile, looking both guilty and grateful. “I’m just... used to handling things by myself.”

Jimin took a deep breath, heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t want to say what came next, but the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Can I... Can I stay with you tonight?”

Jeongguk’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. The tips of his ears turned bright red almost instantly. He staggered back a step, clearly caught off guard. “What—what did you say?” His voice cracked slightly, making Jimin want to laugh.

Jimin’s face heated up, realizing how his words sounded. He covered his mouth with his hands, stifling a giggle. “I didn’t mean it like that !” he blurted out, flustered. “I meant... I could stay at your apartment. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk blinked rapidly, his face still flushed. And then, to Jimin’s surprise, he looked almost... disappointed.

Jimin couldn’t help but tease him a little. “What?” he grinned. “Were you hoping I meant it the other way?”

Jeongguk’s blush deepened, and he let out an embarrassed groan. “Jimin, please,” he muttered, hiding his face in his hands.

Jimin’s laughter filled the air, light and genuine. He reached up and gently tugged Jeongguk’s hands away from his face, his smile softening. “I’m serious, though. Let me stay with you tonight. Please?”

Jeongguk hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to Jimin’s, as if searching for something. Whatever he found in Jimin’s expression must have reassured him, because he finally gave a small nod, his lips curving into a shy smile. “Okay,” he whispered. “You can stay.”

Jimin grinned, heart fluttering in his chest. “Good. Now, let’s get you home.”

The atmosphere in Jeongguk’s apartment was quiet, almost too quiet, the kind that made every breath feel heavier than usual. Jimin wasn’t unfamiliar with this place—he had been here plenty of times since Jeongguk’s discharge from the hospital. At first, it was always for bringing over food his hyungs didn’t have time to drop off, checking on Jeongguk to make sure he was okay, or just spending time with him when he missed him too much to wait another day to see him.

But tonight… tonight felt different.

This time, Jimin was here to stay the night.

He could feel the weight of that thought sitting in his chest as he stood just inside Jeongguk’s small living room, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, and his palms felt clammy. It wasn’t like they hadn’t spent time alone together before—but knowing he wouldn’t leave in a few hours, knowing he’d sleep here, made everything feel strange.

Jeongguk was standing just a few feet away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t looking at Jimin, which made things worse. Normally, Jeongguk was more playful, quick with a teasing smile or some cheeky comment. But tonight, his usual confidence was replaced with an almost boyish nervousness, his gaze darting around the room as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Jimin wasn’t any better. He cleared his throat, feeling ridiculous for how nervous he was. They were just staying under the same roof for one night. It wasn’t a big deal. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. But the tension between them was undeniable, hanging in the air like a taut string ready to snap at any moment.

“Um… should I take the couch?” Jimin asked awkwardly, finally breaking the silence. He hadn’t realized how tightly he was gripping the strap of his bag until he felt the ache in his fingers.

Jeongguk’s head shot up, and his wide brown eyes met Jimin’s for the briefest second before he quickly looked away again, his ears flushing pink. “No! No, you don’t have to do that. I mean… you can take the bed.”

Jimin blinked. “The bed?”

Jeongguk coughed into his hand, suddenly looking anywhere but at Jimin. “Yeah. I can sleep on the couch. It’s not a big deal.”

Jimin shook his head, stepping further into the room. “I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed, Jeongguk. That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, I don’t mind,” Jeongguk mumbled, his voice quieter now. “It’s not like you haven’t taken care of me this whole time. The least I can do is let you have the bed.”

The awkwardness between them was almost suffocating, and Jimin hated it. This wasn’t how things were supposed to feel, not after everything they had been through. But the tension between them was something neither of them knew how to navigate.

Jimin let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe we can just… share the bed?” The words came out before he could think them through, and he immediately regretted it. His cheeks flushed, and he looked down at the floor, biting his bottom lip. “I mean—only if you’re comfortable with that. It’s just—”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk cut him off quickly, his voice rushed. “Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

The room went silent again, and for a moment, all Jimin could hear was the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the faint ticking of the wall clock. The air between them was thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings, but neither of them knew how to bridge the gap.

Jeongguk cleared his throat and gestured toward the kitchen. “Uh, do you want anything to drink? I have water… or juice.”

Jimin shook his head, offering a small, nervous smile. “I’m good. Thanks.”

They stood there for a moment longer, both too embarrassed to move, until Jeongguk finally muttered, “I’ll… I’ll go get some pillows.”

Jimin watched as Jeongguk disappeared into the small hallway leading to the bedroom, his heart still racing. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and ran a hand through his hair. This was so stupid. Why were they acting like this? It wasn’t like they hadn’t been close before—hell, Jimin had practically lived at Jeongguk’s bedside during his recovery. But now, everything felt… different.

When Jeongguk returned, carrying a couple of extra pillows, Jimin smiled at him in gratitude. “Thanks.”

Jeongguk gave a small nod, setting the pillows down on the bed. His hands were trembling slightly, and Jimin noticed how he was fidgeting with the edge of the pillowcase, his usual easy confidence nowhere to be found.

Jimin took a step closer, closing the space between them. “Jeongguk…”

The alpha looked up, his gaze meeting Jimin’s, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted. It wasn’t awkward anymore—it was something else, something heavier and more meaningful.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Jeongguk whispered, his voice soft but earnest.

Jimin’s chest tightened at the vulnerability in those words. “Me too.”

They stood there, just looking at each other, the air between them charged. Slowly, without really thinking, Jimin reached out and took Jeongguk’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jeongguk’s fingers curled around his, holding on like Jimin was the only thing grounding him. And maybe he was.

“Let’s get some rest,” Jimin said quietly, pulling Jeongguk toward the bed. “We’ve both had a long day.”

Jeongguk gave a small, shy smile as they climbed into the bed together, the tension between them easing slightly. They lay side by side, not quite touching but close enough to feel each other’s presence.

Jimin shifted in the bed, propping himself up on one elbow to face Jeongguk fully. The moonlight filtering in through the small window cast a faint glow over Jeongguk’s features, highlighting the softness in his eyes and the vulnerability he wore so openly now.

Jeongguk’s heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through his chest. The way Jimin looked at him—so patient, so kind—only made it worse. It felt like too much, like he was teetering on the edge of something terrifying and beautiful all at once.

“Why have you stayed with me despite everything?” Jeongguk whispered, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Jimin didn’t hesitate. His answer came effortlessly, as if it had been sitting at the tip of his tongue all this time. “Because I want to. I care for you, and I want you to know that.”

Jeongguk’s throat tightened at those words, and before he could stop it, tears welled up in his eyes. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions at bay, but they threatened to spill over anyway. “I’m kind of scared, you know…”

“Why?” Jimin’s voice was so soft, and patient. 

Jeongguk hesitated, but he knew he had to say it. “I’m scared that you’re only staying because you pity me, because you feel guilty. Not because you actually want to.”

His words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw, and Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself together. Saying it out loud didn’t make it easier—it only made it real. The weight of his fear pressed down on him.

Jimin exhaled, his breath warm and steady in the quiet space between them. He reached out without hesitation, taking Jeongguk’s hand in his and intertwining their fingers together, grounding them both. “I was worried you’d think about it like that,” Jimin admitted, voice low and honest. “But I didn’t know how to bring it up without upsetting you.”

Jeongguk’s gaze dropped to their joined hands. Jimin’s touch was so gentle, so deliberate, it made his heart ache. 

“Guk-ah, I want to be here. I’m here because I care for you. I’m here because I love you.” Jimin continued, his thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of Jeongguk’s hand. 

Jeongguk’s breath hitched, and the tears that had gathered finally slipped down his cheeks. “You… love me?” His voice was hoarse, disbelief laced in every syllable.

Jimin smiled, a little sad and a lot fond. “Yeah. I love you.”

For a moment, all Jeongguk could do was stare at him, as if trying to convince himself that this wasn’t some dream. And then, before he could overthink it, he whispered, “I love you too, Jimin.”

Something shifted in the air between them—something tender and fragile, yet electric. It was a moment suspended in time, one that felt too precious to break. Jimin leaned closer, his heart racing, and Jeongguk’s breath stuttered as he felt the omega’s warmth draw nearer.

“Can I…” Jimin whispered, his lips a breath away from Jeongguk’s. “Can I kiss you?”

Jeongguk could only nod, his voice caught in his throat. The world felt like it had narrowed down to just this—just the two of them, tangled together in the dim light of the night, with nothing else mattering.

Jimin closed the remaining distance between them, his lips brushing softly against Jeongguk’s in a kiss that felt more like a promise than anything else. It was gentle, tentative, as if Jimin were afraid Jeongguk might break under his touch.

But Jeongguk didn’t break. Instead, he leaned into the kiss, his free hand coming up to cradle the side of Jimin’s face. He kissed Jimin back with all the longing he had kept bottled up for so long, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest.

The kiss wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, deliberate, filled with all the things they hadn’t been able to say before. It was soft, yet it carried the weight of everything they had gone through, everything they had survived to get to this moment.

But then, Jeongguk’s heart decided to go completely rogue. It thudded against his chest so wildly it felt like it was trying to escape. His breath hitched, and suddenly, his lungs decided they couldn’t keep up with the excitement flooding his body. He gasped mid-kiss, breaking away abruptly.

“I—” Jeongguk wheezed, clutching at his chest with a mix of alarm and embarrassment. “I can’t—breathe.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in panic, but before he could truly freak out, Jeongguk coughed out a laugh—an awkward, breathless laugh that made Jimin's heart squeeze with affection.

“Guk! Don’t scare me like that!” Jimin scolded, his hand flying to Jeongguk’s chest, rubbing soothing circles as if to help. “I thought—” He stopped, biting his lip, half worried, half amused. “What even happened?”

Jeongguk grinned, though his cheeks were a furious shade of red. “My heart… it’s beating so fast.” He placed a hand dramatically over his chest, as if to emphasize just how fast it was racing. “I think I got a little too excited.”

Jimin let out a soft, incredulous laugh, the sound light and warm in the quiet room. “Excited about kissing me?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes!” Jeongguk admitted without hesitation, his lips curving into a bashful smile. “You have no idea.”

Jimin rolled his eyes playfully, but his heart swelled. There was something so endearing, so purely Jeongguk about the way the alpha was blushing, looking so happy despite the fact that he had just run out of breath from a kiss.

“Well,” Jimin murmured, inching closer again, “maybe we should try it one more time—just slower this time, so you don’t pass out.”

Jeongguk chuckled, the sound breathy and full of joy. “I’d like that.”

This time, Jimin kissed him again—soft, deliberate, and with no rush. Jeongguk sighed contentedly into the kiss, letting the warmth of Jimin’s lips calm the storm in his chest. Their fingers stayed laced together, grounding them both, and Jeongguk’s heart, though still racing, felt steady now. Like it was finally at home.

They broke apart after a moment, foreheads resting together, their breaths mingling. Jeongguk gave Jimin’s hand a gentle squeeze, his lips brushing against Jimin’s one more time—quick and light, like a promise.

“See?” Jimin whispered against his lips, grinning. “You survived.”

Jeongguk laughed softly, eyes bright with happiness. “Barely.”

Jimin smiled back, brushing a thumb over Jeongguk’s cheek. “If you keep making me feel like this, Jeon Jeongguk, I’ll have to start carrying an oxygen mask just for you.”

Jeongguk’s laugh was pure and unfiltered, filling the small space between them. “Deal,” he whispered, eyes crinkling with joy.

And when Jimin kissed him again, Jeongguk welcomed it fully, no longer afraid to let his heart run wild. Because with Jimin by his side, he didn’t want it any other way.

When they pulled away from the kiss, their foreheads still resting together, Jimin bit his lip, hesitant but determined. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, matching the rapid beat he could feel in Jeongguk’s. He glanced up at Jeongguk through his lashes, watching the way the alpha’s face was flushed and his lips were slightly parted in awe.

“Jeongguk…” Jimin whispered, his thumb still brushing lightly against Jeongguk’s cheek.

Jeongguk hummed in response, blinking slowly like he was still processing everything, his lips curving into a soft smile—happy, dazed, and more than a little shy.

Jimin took a steadying breath, his voice soft but sincere. “Do you… want to date me?”

For a moment, Jeongguk just stared at him, wide-eyed, his mind blanking entirely. He felt like he had just been hit by a train, and his heart immediately kicked into overdrive again.

“W-What?” Jeongguk stammered, blinking rapidly as if he hadn’t heard him right.

Jimin smiled, fighting back a giggle at Jeongguk’s adorably stunned expression. “I said… Do you want to date me? Like, officially?”

Jeongguk’s breath hitched, and for a second, it looked like he might pass out from the sheer joy of it all. “D-Date you?” he repeated, voice soft with disbelief.

Jimin couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered the alpha was, his heart warm at the sight. “Yes, date me, Jeongguk. You know—holding hands, going on dates, being… together. ”

Jeongguk’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he ducked his head, trying to hide his embarrassment. But the happiness bubbling inside him was impossible to contain. His hands tightened around Jimin’s, his lips twitching as he tried—and failed—to suppress the brightest smile.

“You—you really want to?” Jeongguk whispered, still looking at Jimin like he couldn’t believe it.

Jimin rolled his eyes playfully, though the warmth in his gaze was unmistakable. “Obviously, Guk. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.” He tilted his head slightly, studying Jeongguk’s flushed face. “Unless… you don’t want to?”

“No!” Jeongguk blurted out, startling himself with how quickly the word left his mouth. His eyes widened in panic, and he quickly tried to explain, “I mean—yes, I do! I want to. I really, really want to.”

Jimin’s grin widened, and he leaned closer, bumping his nose lightly against Jeongguk’s. “Then it’s settled.”

Jeongguk’s heart was soaring, the joy so overwhelming that he could barely contain it. “You—You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he admitted quietly, his voice trembling slightly. “I never thought you’d want to—”

Jimin pressed a quick kiss to Jeongguk’s lips, silencing him with a soft smile. “Well, I do. So stop doubting yourself, okay?”

Jeongguk nodded, his cheeks aching from how hard he was smiling. He could feel it—this was real. Jimin was really here, and he wasn’t going anywhere. And they were really going to do this.

Jimin squeezed his hand one last time, pulling back slightly to meet Jeongguk’s gaze. “Now,” Jimin said, a teasing glint in his eye, “you better not make me regret this, Jeon Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk laughed, a sound so full of joy that it echoed in the quiet room. “I won’t,” he whispered, his voice full of promise. “I swear I won’t.”

He kissed Jimin’s lips—soft, quick pecks that left Jimin giggling in surprise. Then, without missing a beat, he trailed down to Jimin’s cheek, brushing his lips there as if to memorize the warmth of his skin. Jimin squirmed under the attention, half-laughing, half-scolding, “Jeongguk! Stop—”

But Jeongguk didn’t stop. He kissed the other cheek, too, grinning so hard it made his face hurt. “No way,” Jeongguk murmured between kisses, his voice playful but full of affection. “I’ve waited too long for this.”

“Waited for what?” Jimin tried to ask, but it was hard to sound serious when Jeongguk was peppering his entire face with kisses.

“For you,” Jeongguk whispered against the corner of Jimin’s mouth, his voice dropping to something softer, something more sincere. “I’ve waited for you, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin’s breath hitched, his heart melting as Jeongguk kissed the tip of his nose, making him blush. “Jeongguk… you’re ridiculous,” Jimin said, but there was no bite to his words—just pure fondness.

Jeongguk chuckled, the sound vibrating against Jimin’s skin as he pressed a kiss to Jimin’s jawline. Then another, a little lower, just to hear the way Jimin sucked in a soft breath.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jimin whispered, shivering slightly under Jeongguk’s affection.

“You love it,” Jeongguk teased, kissing along Jimin’s neck now, playful and light, like butterfly wings brushing against him.

Jimin tried to push him away half-heartedly, though his hands only ended up tangling in Jeongguk’s hair. “You’re going to make me combust,” Jimin muttered, biting his lip to keep from smiling too wide.

Jeongguk pulled back just far enough to meet Jimin’s eyes, and there was a sparkle in his gaze. “Good,” Jeongguk said, breathless but grinning like a fool. “Then you’ll know how I feel right now.”

Jimin laughed, his heart bursting at the seams. “You’re ridiculous,” he said again, shaking his head in disbelief, but he was already leaning in, stealing another kiss from Jeongguk’s lips.

When the hyungs found out that Jeongguk and Jimin were finally dating, there was no escaping the teasing. Almost every time the couple was together, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi made it their personal mission to mess with them.

The first time it happened was during one of their usual gatherings at Jeongguk’s apartment. Jeongguk had invited Jimin over to watch a movie with his hyungs, and he thought, foolishly, that it would be a quiet night. But the moment Jimin walked in and Jeongguk instinctively took his hand, Seokjin’s sharp eyes caught the movement.

" Oh , would you look at this?” Seokjin grinned, nudging Yoongi. “Our little Jeonggukie has grown up! Holding hands in public now, are we?”

Namjoon smirked from where he sat on the couch, folding his arms across his chest. “Guess it all worked out in the end.”

Jeongguk groaned, burying his face in Jimin’s shoulder. “Hyung, please stop…”

"Don’t be shy now," Yoongi chimed in, his voice dry but his smirk betraying his amusement. "You’ve been chasing Jimin for so long—now you’ve finally got him. This is a public victory. Own it."

Jimin laughed quietly, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand. "It’s okay, Guk-ah. Let them have their fun."

"Yeah, Jeongguk-ah, let us enjoy this moment," Seokjin teased, biting back a laugh. "You have no idea how much we’ve been waiting for this."

Jeongguk groaned louder, muttering, “I’m moving out.”

The teasing didn’t stop with the hyungs. When Jimin finally told Hoseok and Taehyung about the two of them, they were even worse.

“You mean you finally admitted it?” Taehyung exclaimed, throwing his hands up dramatically. “I thought we’d have to stage an intervention!”

Hoseok cackled beside him, nudging Jimin playfully in the ribs. “It was so obvious, Jimin-ah! The way you’d light up whenever Jeongguk was around? How you’d get all sulky when he wasn’t? And don’t think I didn’t notice the way you kept watching him out of the corner of your eye.”

Jimin groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “You guys are impossible.”

“Oh, come on, we’re just saying what everyone was thinking!” Taehyung grinned. 

“Not true!” Jimin protested, face red.

“ So true,” Hoseok said, his grin widening. “I remember that one time you were waiting for Jeongguk after class, pretending like it was just coincidence .” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You should’ve seen your face when he smiled at you—you were gone, man. Absolutely gone.”

Jimin groaned even louder, but despite the embarrassment, a smile crept onto his face. “Okay, okay, enough. I get it.”

“Do you, though?” Taehyung teased, slinging an arm around Jimin’s shoulder. “Because we were worried you might never get it, to be honest.”

Despite all the teasing, it was obvious to everyone that they were happy. There was a lightness in the way Jeongguk smiled now—a kind of ease that hadn’t been there before. He was more playful, more relaxed. And Jimin… well, Jimin looked at Jeongguk like he hung the stars in the sky.

And the hyungs, even in the midst of their teasing, couldn’t hide their pride and happiness.

"You know," Seokjin said one evening, watching Jeongguk lean comfortably against Jimin on the couch, "I’ve never seen him this happy before."

Namjoon hummed in agreement. "It was worth it, wasn’t it?"

Yoongi gave a small, satisfied smile. “Yeah. It was.”

And Jimin, overhearing them, felt his heart swell. Because for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly right.

The soft crash of waves greeted them as they stepped onto the beach, the cool breeze carrying the scent of salt and freedom. Jeongguk stood still for a moment, taking in the ocean before him, the shrieks of children in the distance, and the laughter of his hyungs as they began setting up their picnic spot. It had been so long since they’d been able to enjoy a day like this. 

They had talked about going to the beach for months, hoping to unwind and recharge, but life kept getting in the way—work, studies, responsibilities.

But finally, their schedules aligned. It felt like a small miracle that they were all free on the same day. The moment was worth the wait, and Jeongguk could feel the happiness radiating from each of them, the joy palpable in every laugh and teasing remark between them.

“It’s finally happening!” Seokjin grinned, spreading the blanket across the sand theatrically. “I thought I’d never see the day!”

Yoongi smirked from where he crouched by the cooler, pulling out bottled water and snacks. “We should take a photo—proof that this isn’t some dream.”

Namjoon chuckled, adjusting the umbrella. “It really does feel surreal, huh? I can’t remember the last time we all had a break.”

“It’s been too long,” Jimin agreed, dropping the bag of towels beside the blanket before turning toward Jeongguk. His eyes crinkled with a bright smile on his face, looking unfairly beautiful under the sunlight. “You okay?” he asked, nudging Jeongguk’s shoulder.

Jeongguk gave him a small, shy smile. “Yeah. Just… taking it all in.”

Jimin grinned wider, leaning closer and giving him a peck on the lips. “Well, come on then. We’ve got the whole day to enjoy.”

They laid out picnic blankets under palm trees. Seokjin and Yoongi were already at the grill, working on barbecuing some meat, with Namjoon carefully slicing vegetables beside them. Jeongguk watched them, feeling a strange sense of contentment settle in his chest. It wasn’t often they all got a chance to unwind like this, and seeing his hyungs so carefree made him feel lighter.

“You’d better eat a lot today, Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin called out from the grill, flipping a skewer with expert precision. “I didn’t slave over this barbecue just for you to nibble like a rabbit.”

Yoongi smirked. “He’s right. We’ve got meat for days, so you better not disappoint.”

Jeongguk laughed. “You guys act like I can eat as much as before.”

“Try us.” Seokjin wiggled his eyebrows, handing him a skewer of perfectly grilled beef. 

Jeongguk took it, feeling warmth bubble in his chest—not just from the food, but from the care behind their words.

After they ate their fill, they went swimming. The water was cool, a perfect contrast to the warmth of the sun. Jimin was the first to jump in, his laugh echoing across the shore as he splashed Seokjin.

Seokjin, who had been cautiously dipping a toe in, yelped in surprise as a wave of water hit him square in the face. “Yah, Park Jimin! You’re going to regret that!”

Jimin stuck his tongue out. “You’ve got to catch me first!” he taunted, swimming a few feet deeper into the water.

Seokjin didn’t waste another second. With an exaggerated battle cry, he ran into the waves, splashing water wildly in every direction. “Take this!” he shouted, sending a tidal wave of water toward Jimin, who shrieked in mock horror.

Namjoon waded in next, chuckling at their antics. “Seokjin hyung, you do realize you’re just making yourself wetter, right?” he pointed out, raising a brow.

Seokjin scoffed. “A little water never hurt anyone.” He sent another cascade of water toward Namjoon. “Join the fun, Sir.”

Namjoon sputtered as the water splashed into his face. “You’re impossible,” he muttered with a grin, wiping his glasses on his shirt before tossing them to Yoongi, who was still standing on the shore. “Hyung, hold these for me.”

Yoongi caught the glasses without looking up, shielding his eyes lazily with one hand. “No thanks. I’m staying right here.”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” Jimin grinned wickedly, swimming back toward the shore. “Come on, Yoongi hyung! If I have to get wet, so do you!”

Yoongi gave him a withering look, but before he could escape, Jimin grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the water with an unceremonious splash. “Jimin!” Yoongi growled, emerging from the water soaked from head to toe.

Jimin doubled over with laughter, nearly sinking into the water himself. “You should’ve seen your face!”

Yoongi swore under his breath but couldn’t keep the ghost of a smile from tugging at the corners of his lips. He retaliated with a splash of his own, sending water toward both Jimin and Seokjin.

Meanwhile, Jeongguk followed them slowly into the water, his steps deliberate and measured. The cool waves lapped at his legs, and he exhaled slowly, trying to keep his breathing steady. Swimming wasn’t easy—not yet. His muscles weren’t as strong as they used to be, and his chest felt tight every time he exerted himself too much.

Jimin noticed Jeongguk struggling and immediately swam back toward him, staying close by just in case. “Hey, slow down,” he said softly, placing a gentle hand on Jeongguk’s arm. “It’s not a race.”

Jeongguk gave him a sheepish grin, water dripping from his dark hair. “I just… didn’t want to feel left behind.”

Jimin’s heart twisted at the vulnerability in Jeongguk’s voice. “You’re not,” he reassured him gently. “We’re right here with you.”

He swam closer, their shoulders bumping playfully. “Besides,” Jimin teased, “you look cute struggling like that.”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened, his face flushing slightly. “I do not!” he protested, splashing Jimin in retaliation.

Jimin gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “How dare you!” he cried, sending a wave of water back at Jeongguk.

Meanwhile, Namjoon and Seokjin had started an all-out splash war, with Yoongi reluctantly dragged into the fray. “I swear to god,” Yoongi muttered, “if one more drop of water hits my face…”

“You’ll do what?” Seokjin taunted, sending another wave toward him.

Yoongi gave a rare grin. “I’ll drown you.”

Namjoon burst out laughing, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath. “I’d like to see you try!”

The hyungs played and teased like kids, the weight of their usual responsibilities left behind on the shore.

Jeongguk floated beside Jimin, watching his hyungs and feeling a warmth bloom in his chest that had nothing to do with the sun. Despite the hardships, despite his struggles with his health, he knew—deep down—that he was lucky.

His condition had been painful, yes. It had been terrifying. But it had also shown him something he wouldn’t trade for the world. It had shown him just how deeply he was loved.

And in that moment, with the ocean surrounding them and the sound of laughter in the air, Jeongguk knew he was exactly where he was meant to be—safe, loved, and finally at peace.

BONUS SCENE:

It had been a year since Jeongguk and Jimin started dating, and yet, every day felt brand new to Jimin. Time flew by in the blink of an eye—they had graduated from university, stepped into the adult world with their new jobs, and now lived together in Jeongguk’s apartment. Jimin still found it hard to believe how far they had come. Every morning felt like a new beginning, and every night felt like the safest place in the world, wrapped in Jeongguk’s warmth.

He loved Jeongguk. He loved waking up next to him, cooking breakfast together, going on late-night grocery runs, and even the little fights about whose turn it was to take out the trash. Loving Jeongguk was a privilege, and taking care of him was an honor.

But being in love also came with moments of unexpected jealousy.

Today, Jimin was waiting in his car outside Jeongguk’s office building to pick him up. It was a routine they had fallen into—Jeongguk worked at a small tech startup, and Jimin’s shift ended earlier than his. He liked waiting for Jeongguk outside, scrolling through his phone or enjoying the quiet moments before Jeongguk climbed into the passenger seat, lighting up his day.

However, today was different.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed when he spotted Jeongguk outside the building, standing on the sidewalk, clearly waiting for him. But Jeongguk wasn’t alone. An unfamiliar omega was standing too close— way too close—leaning toward Jeongguk with a flirtatious smile plastered on his face. Jimin watched as the omega twirled a strand of his hair between his fingers, eyes sparkling as he talked animatedly to Jeongguk.

Jimin’s grip tightened around the steering wheel. He knew Jeongguk—his alpha would never entertain anyone’s advances. But that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him.

Inside the car, Jimin watched the interaction unfold, his brows furrowing deeper by the second.

Jeongguk stood awkwardly, his hands stuffed into his pockets as the omega tilted his head and gave him a coy smile. “You’re really cute. Do you work here often? I haven’t seen you before.”

Jeongguk shifted uncomfortably, his polite smile strained. “Uh, yeah, I work here. But listen, I—”

The omega leaned in a bit closer. “What do you say we grab a coffee sometime? You seem like my type.” He smiled sweetly, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jeongguk took a step back, his voice firm but still gentle. “No, I have a boyfriend.”

The omega pouted dramatically, as if those words hadn’t registered. “Boyfriend? Are you sure? You don’t seem taken.”

Jimin could feel his blood pressure rising. Oh, he did not just say that.

With a huff of annoyance, Jimin unbuckled his seatbelt and swung the car door open. He was out of the car in an instant, striding purposefully toward the two of them.

Jeongguk saw him approaching and immediately brightened, a grin spreading across his face. Relief washed over his expression like a tide coming in.

“Hey, baby!” Jeongguk called, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and affection.

Jimin stopped right in front of them, shooting the other omega a look that could rival a storm cloud. “Oh, I see you’ve found a stray,” Jimin said, his voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness.

The omega blinked, startled by Jimin’s sudden appearance. “Uh, who are you?”

Jimin tilted his head, flashing a smile that was more threatening than friendly. “I’m the boyfriend he just mentioned.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze unwavering. “You know, the one he’s very much taken by?”

Jeongguk bit his lip to keep from laughing, clearly enjoying this side of Jimin.

The other omega took a hesitant step back, looking between Jimin and Jeongguk. “Oh… I didn’t realize…”

Jimin’s smile sharpened. “Well, now you do. Run along, sweetheart. You’ve wasted enough of your time and mine.”

The omega’s mouth opened and closed as if searching for something to say, but the intensity of Jimin’s gaze shut him down. With an awkward laugh, the omega muttered, “I should, uh… get going.”

“Yeah, you should,” Jimin said with a pointed nod, watching as the omega scurried away without looking back.

Once the omega disappeared around the corner, Jimin turned to Jeongguk, his arms still crossed. “What was that all about?”

Jeongguk tried— tried —to suppress the grin spreading across his face, but he failed miserably. “You were jealous,” he teased, his voice warm and playful.

Jimin rolled his eyes, though his cheeks were tinged pink. “I wasn’t jealous.”

Jeongguk raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then what do you call that little performance?”

Jimin huffed, unable to fight the smile tugging at his lips. “I call it making sure no one flirts with my alpha.”

Jeongguk’s heart swelled at the words, his chest filling with warmth. He stepped closer, slipping his arms around Jimin’s waist and pulling him close. “I like it when you’re possessive,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Jimin narrowed his eyes, though there was no real bite behind it. “Oh, do you now?”

“Mhmm.” Jeongguk leaned in, brushing his nose against Jimin’s. “Makes me feel special.”

Jimin rolled his eyes again, but his heart was thudding a little faster. “You are special, you idiot.”

Jeongguk grinned, pressing a soft kiss to Jimin’s forehead. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

Jimin’s hands slid up to rest on Jeongguk’s chest, his thumb tracing the familiar shape of Jeongguk’s collarbone through his shirt. “You better not let anyone else flirt with you again,” he warned, though there was no malice in his tone.

Jeongguk chuckled, leaning down to kiss Jimin’s cheek. “Promise. No one but you.”

Jimin smiled, his heart feeling impossibly full. “Good.”

They stood like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the chaos of the world fading into the background. Eventually, Jimin let out a small sigh, playfully swatting Jeongguk’s arm. “Now, come on. We’ve got a date with Netflix and leftovers.”

Jeongguk grinned, slipping his hand into Jimin’s as they walked back toward the car. “Best kind of date.”

With their hands intertwined, the sun dipping low in the sky, Jimin realized—once again—how lucky he was to have Jeongguk. And how deeply, fiercely, and unapologetically he loved him.