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Love 'n' Stuff

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Yoongi is used to late nights in the recording studio. It’s partially self-inflicted, since whenever he gets an idea for a song he just can’t let it go until he at least has the first layer of the track down.

(Partly it’s because there’s a fair amount of pressure from the company to knock out another single.)

A drum beat plays on loop as Yoongi writes down lyrics, scribbles them out and then rewrites them again.

The thudding beat drowns out the noise of the door opening, and Yoongi doesn’t realise he is no longer alone until a sweaty Jimin drops into his lap.

Yoongi wrinkles his nose in disgust (he does not appreciate the sticky feel of sweat – especially when it isn’t his) . Jimin doesn’t look particularly contrite; he seems to enjoy his hyung’s present discomfort, flashing a cheeky grin. “You still writing hyung?”

“I was,” Yoongi says, giving Jimin a sharp look as he reaches around Jimin’s body - which is obnoxiously draped across him - and slides the lyric sheets away; he won’t finish it tonight.

“I thought you’d all gone back to the dorm.”

Jimin picks at the loose stitches on the hem of his damp t-shirt “Yer, the other’s left but I stayed to practise for a bit longer.”

Yoongi swats Jimin’s hands away “don’t overdo it Jimin, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“I know, I know… I was waiting for you anyway so I thought I’d just pass the time by practising.” Jimin whines, shifting his position on Yoongi’s lap to rest his head against the older boy’s shoulder.

“You’ll be tired tomorrow.” Yoongi murmurs, brushing a hand through Jimin’s greasy hair.

“I’m tired now!”

Sighing, Yoongi lowers the volume of the mixer. “Go to sleep then.’ he relents, knowing that this had been Jimin’s aim all along. Behind that charming smile, he was a cheeky little shit.

This time Jimin does look suitably sheepish, but as he stifles a yawn behind his hand. Yoongi can’t keep up the put-out expression on his face – Jimin really does work himself too hard sometimes.

Less than 15 minutes later Jimin is snuffling adorably, Yoongi’s arm held hostage against Jimin’s chest like a teddy bear as the younger boy cuddles it tightly.

(And though Yoongi would never admit it if asked, there’s a warm fuzzy feeling growing in his chest as Jimin naps in his arms.)


There’s drop of sweat sliding down the back of Hoseok’s neck but he’s too tired to wipe it away.

Luckily, someone does it for him.

Jimin flops down next to where Hoseok is lying face down on the practise room floor. Hoseok watches from the corner of his eye as Jimin uses his towel to wipe away the sweat on Hoseok’s legs, arms and neck. The younger is very thorough, obsessively so, fixated on the movement of the damp cloth.

“Jimin-ah,” Hoseok groans, rolling over so Jimin can lie down next to him, head pillowed on Hoseok’s arm “what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean hyung?”

Hoseok sighs. He’s always been good at sensing people’s moods and Jimin has had a rain cloud above his head for the last week.

“Jimin.” Hoseok whines wrapping his arms around the younger and tugging him closer, clinging onto him like a sloth “Why is our Jiminnie sad?”

Jimin struggles against him but not with the enthusiasm of someone who is actual trying to break free. “Hyung you’re strangling me…”

Hoseok relinquishes his hold a little. “Seriously Jimin, what’s wrong?”

Jimin remains quiet for a moment. “I guess I’m just stressed for the comeback, I don’t want to let you down, or the fans.”

“Jimin,” Hoseok says sternly “you won’t be letting anyone down. We’ve all seen how hard you’ve been working, the fans too. They know how hard you try for them.”

“But hyung…” Jimin mumbles, “What if that isn’t enough?”

The atmosphere in the studio turns sombre. Hoseok holds Jimin tighter, understanding his trepidation. The life they lived was one of constant judgement. Every move they made, every decision – it could change everything.

There was no such thing as privacy, not when you were an idol. The Press would leave no stone unturned, no blemish unexposed. It was scary, and Hoseok knew the damage just one cruel comment could cause.

“I love our fans.” Hoseok says finally. “The real fans support us when we need it, and call us out when we make a mistake. They make us strive to be better, both performers and people; they’re the ones we do this for.”

From his spot buried in Hoseok’s arms, Jimin nods.

“We also do it for ourselves, because this is what we love, right?”

Another nod.

“Don’t let anything stop you from doing what you love, for the people you love.” Hoseok finishes, glancing down at Jimin.

The boy is holding tightly to Hoseok, hanging off his every word.

Becoming an idol wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.


Touring always left the members feeling exhausted.

They had to wake up early, rehearse all day and then give an energetic performance in the evening. Often by the time the boys arrived back at their hotel rooms they were already half asleep.

After a particularly draining performance that had lasted long into the night, Taehyung finds himself in a strange not-quite-lucid state as they rock up to the hotel at half past three in the morning.

Stumbling sleepy eyed from the van the boys bid each other goodnight, disappearing into their rooms before collapsing onto the crisp white sheets of the hotel beds.

Before Taehyung succumbs to the drowsiness he thinks blearily to himself how bizarrely squishy the mattress is; then promptly passes out.

Taehyung is woken at seven o’clock the next morning, when the bed beneath him begins to move.

Startled by the sudden animation of his bed, Taehyung jumps upright, only stare down at a very clingy, very cute and very sleepy Park Jimin.

“Why’re you sleeping on me?” Jimin grumbles, his voice husky from the night before.

Taehyung shrugs “you’re comfy.”

This is apparently a good enough answer, since instead of shoving him off, Jimin pulls Taehyung back down, snuggling into his warmth and falling asleep again.

When Taehyung wakes again, Jimin has managed to cocoon the two of them in the duvet so tightly that Taehyung can’t be bothered to try and de-tangle himself.

Jimin’s face is so close that as his eye lashes flutter they brush against Taehyung’s cheek.

It reminds Taehyung of their trainee days when, after hours of non-stop practising, he and Jimin would snuggle up together in the corner of the practise room - trying to squeeze in a nap before the dance instructor arrived. The two had developed a talent for falling asleep on top of one another, no matter their surroundings. Back then Jimin had been a little softer to sleep on, but now plump curves had been sculpted into hard muscle and Taehyung is reminded just how much has changed.

“Still sleepy?”Jimin’s voice brings Taehyung back to present time before he can spend too long lost in the past.

Taehyung makes a noncommittal noise but goes to rest his head on Jimin’s shoulder all the same.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while.” He says decisively, quelling the strange melancholy in his stomach with Jimin’s warmth and comforting smell of friend.

(Maybe Jimin isn’t the only cuddler in Bangtan after all.)


Jungkook and Jimin had a turbulent relationship.

Jungkook loathed physical affection. He hated the stifling sensation skin-on-skin contact gave him.

The older boys had adapeted to Jungkook shrugging their arms off his shoulder, side-stepping their hugs and ducking away from their hands.

Everyone seemed to accept Jungkook’s discomfort at physical affection except Jimin.

Again and again he tried to introduce Jungkook to new ways of being physically close with people.

And, again and again Jungkook stopped his advances.

However one evening, something strange happened. Jimin was the last one home that day (he’d volunteered to record his vocals last so that the others could get an earlier night), so he was surprised to see a figure sitting on the couch, face illuminated by the light of the TV screen.

Jimin kicked off his shoes and approached the figure, finally recognising him as Jungkook.

As the stark, artificial light fell across Jungkook’s face, Jimin could see the glistening droplets drying on his cheeks.

“Hyung – ” Jungkook choked before his face began to crumple.

Jimin crashed onto the sofa, pulling the maknae into a tight hug. “It’s ok Kookie, it’s alright.”

This was a turn of events Jimin had not been prepared for. For the first time, Jungkook had clutched his shirt to pull him closer, and not shove him away. Although Jimin was worried about what had Jungkook so upset, he was glad he could comfort him in the best way he knew how.

Jungkook never told Jimin what he’d been upset about that night. Although afterwards, the members noticed that Jungkook allowed Jimin’s touches to linger just a fraction longer than before.

It appeared that not even Jungkook was immune to the warm, fuzzy feeling Jimin’s hugs brought.


Namjoon can’t quite believe that they’ve been scheduled for a photoshoot, especially since it’s beyond freezing outside. That morning there had even been a smattering of snow covering the pavements and rooftops, signally the arrival of winter.

He supposes it isn’t too bad, since they’re modelling Kolon Sport’s latest winter outwear; the puffy coats are doing a great job of keeping most of the bitter cold out – it’s a shame they haven’t been given any gloves though, after the first hour outside Namjoon had lost all sensation in his fingers.

The photographer calls for a break whilst he changes over the lighting, so Namjoon joins Yoongi, who’s lounging against the side of a nearby building. Jungkook and Taehyung have begun a game that involves running towards one another at high speed and trying to bounce the other off their bulging coats. Hoeseok cackles at the pair, cheering them on respectively and Seokjin watches with a careful eye, ready to step in if either of them get a little too rowdy.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and sinks further into the collar of his own bright orange jacket, but Namjoon can see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips at their antics.

It’s at that point he begins to wonder where Jimin’s vanished off to. Usually he’d be joining in with Jungkook and Taehyung but currently, he’s nowhere in sight.

Frowning, Namjoon rises from his crouched position beside Yoongi, and wanders around the various staff present at the shoot, searching for Jimin.

He finds him bundled up next to an accident looking heater, looking pale in the face.

Just as Namjoon is about to speak, Jimin lets out an almighty sneeze. It’s so violent the force nearly nods him off balance.

“Jimin.” Namjoon sighs, kneeling beside him and putting his hand to Jimin’s forehead; it’s boiling hot. “Why didn’t you say anything, have you taken any medicine?”

Jimin shakes his head, then pauses blinking rapidly as the action disorientates him. “It was fine this morning.” He mumbles, voice strained.

Namjoon tugs the beanie off his head and tugs it down over Jimin’s dark locks. “Wait here.” He instructs him.

5 minutes later and Namjoon had managed to procure some tablets from one of the stylists and a bottle of water. He returns to Jimin waits as the younger swallows the tablet. Jimin must really be ill, since he didn’t complain at all about the taking the dreaded-tablets.

Jimin sort of slumps over slightly, and Namjoon tucks him against his side, where, within a few moments, Jimin nods off.

After his short nap Jimin manages to make it through till the end of the shoot, Namjoon keeping an eye on him the whole time.

When they return to the dorm later that night, Jimin shuffles into Namjoon’s room.

Namjoon suspects he’s taken some more medication, probably forced upon him by Seokjin, as it always makes him sleepy. Jimin snuggles up beside him and lets out a sigh, “thanks hyung.”

Namjoon smiles and ruffles Jimin’s hair. “It’s ok Jimin, go to sleep now.”


It’s not often the Seokjin gets the dorm to himself, but today happened to be one of those rare occasions. The younger members had gone to the dance studio, supervised by Hoeseok whilst Namjoon and Yoongi headed to the studio.

Seokjin snuggled further beneath his blanket, enjoying the peacefulness until he realised just how quiet it was. It was jolting; after living together for years Seokjin had acclimatised to living in constant noise, without it the flat seemed a little eerie.

Seokjin decides lying in bed isn’t really a productive way to spend their one free-ish day, and drags himself upright. Shuffling out of the bedroom he is alerted to the fact that he is not actually alone.

A series of loud crashes echoes from the kitchen and a familiar voice cries out, “crap!”

Frowning to himself, Seokjin goes to investigate, only to find Jimin kneeling on the floor, surrounded by kitchen utensils. He looks up sheepishly at Seokjin, “sorry hyung, did I wake you?” he asks.

“No, I was already awake – what… what are you doing?”

“um, baking?” Jimin replies uncertainly, which makes Seokjin laugh.

“What are you baking?” he asks instead, glancing at the recipe book Jimin had propped up on the counter. A large chocolate cake is displayed on the page.

“A triple chocolate fudge cake.” Jimin said determinedly. He looks a little more uncertainly at the utensils laid out around him. “Erm hyung, which one of these things is a whisk.”

Jimin looks so hopeless, sitting there on the floor and staring up at him, that Seokjin can only smile. “Jimin, do you want hyung to help you?”

A few hours later and a slightly lopsided chocolate cake sits on the kitchen table. There’s flour and batter smeared across both their faces and most of the surfaces in the kitchen.

Jimin beams proudly at their creation. Then he turns around and routes through on of the draws.

“Jimin, what’re you – ” Seokjin pauses at Jimin produces birthday candles. Jimin lights them in seconds and presents the cake to Soekjin.

“Happy Birthday hyung!” he cries.

Seokjin is confused. Had he actually forgotten his own birthday?

“Jimin I – ”

“quickly hyung, blow them out!”

Seokjin indulges him and blows them out. “Thank you Jimin.” He laughs.

Jimin shrugs, grinning with glee.

Then Seokjin frowns. “wait – did you just get me to bake my own birthday cake!?”