Pair: Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 1586
Summary: In which Yoongi is sick
Saturday afternoons were nothing special in my book. They were mostly filled with chores, work that was mildly overdue, and lesson plans that needed attention but often didn’t get done until late Sunday night. Occasionally, if it was the right kind of day, my boyfriend and I would go out to the movies or something just to say that we didn’t spend the entire weekend locked away in our apartment doing nothing. Of course, that also only happened if my boyfriend had the time to spend with me, what with his busy schedules and hectic lifestyle. This Saturday, however, was different than the others and the quiet moan coming from the bedroom was a gentle reminder that my boyfriend, the famous Min Yoongi, was sick with the cold.
“You ok?” I called into the mostly quiet apartment from the living room as I folded what little clothes we produced during the week.
A low moan was my only answer, followed by the shuffling of blankets and a few sniffles. I smiled to myself, the image of my sick boyfriend miserably shifting in the blankets to try and get comfortable just too endearing for me to stand.
I finished up the last of the laundry and piled the clothes neatly into the basket at my feet and pushed myself to stand. The basket wasn’t heavy as I carried it into the bedroom, but I dropped it loudly on the carpeted floor just to get Yoongi’s attention. He turned sullenly in the bed and pouted up at me, his eyes blinking slowly.
“Are you done?” his voice was hoarse and I smiled to myself.
I placed my hands on my hips and stared down at the clothes. “Almost. I just need to put all these away.”
He groaned and stretched his arms out, “Come to bed.”
“But look at all this,” I said waving a hand over the basket. It wasn’t all that much but I could never get enough of making Yoongi’s life hell, even if he was sick.
He sniffled again. “Your boyfriend, the love of your life, feels like shit. Humor me.”
It was hard to say no when my angel faced boyfriend stared at me with pleading eyes; the desire of having me wrapped in his arms visible in his pouting lips. How wonderful it would be to kiss those lips. I frowned and looked down at the clothes again, well aware that they weren’t going to be put away any time soon. With a final sigh, I pushed the basket into the corner and made my way over to bed.
Yoongi let out a pleased sigh as I wrapped my arms around his slender shoulders. His head instinctively found the crook of my neck where he always enjoyed spending most of his time. He sniffled again, a pathetic little sound coming from his lips as he tried to get comfortable but was failing. Yoongi hated being sick, but I had to admit that seeing him this vulnerable was kind of a fun sight.
Gently, I brushed my fingers through his soft hair and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Does my boyfriend, the love of my life, feel better?” I teased.
He wiggled underneath me, his legs kicking around trying to shove the blankets off of him.
“It’s hot,” he grumbled.
“Well, the added body heat can’t be helping,” I said about to move from under his arms when he pulled me even closer, his head pressing harshly into my collarbone. I grinned.
He sniffled again. “Did I say you could move?”
“Sick and still bossy as hell,” I scolded him, “You know I’m doing you a favor?”
“You know you talk a lot?” he whined.
The giggle I tried to suppress still vibrated through my chest and made Yoongi’s head bounce. He whined again, his hand coming up to keep me from moving. I wiggled under his hand under the pretense of getting comfortable and the huff of breath that escaped him was filled with sass.
Yoongi was incredibly demanding when he was sick. Most of it was played up for effect, though, just a sneaky way to get me to do things for him because he didn’t want to move; like arranging his pillows under his head to make him more comfortable. I did humor him though, because I knew how hard Yoongi worked and knew that he needed rest, especially in this state. I loved the kid too much to call him out on his bullshit, so I let him whine and complain until he felt in control again. Which is why after his final huff, I remained still and let him relax against me.
A few minutes passed with Yoongi pressed into me before his light snores eventually filled the room as he managed to fall asleep. I was glad for it because I honestly didn’t know when he slept. Most nights I’d be asleep long before he was and wake up after him. Whenever I would confront him about it, he’d wave me off and talk about the things he needed to do. In a way I was glad for his sickness. It meant he was resting.
I kept running my fingers through his dark hair until I, too, fell asleep.
Hours later I was woken up by a growling stomach and incredibly dry mouth. The sun had set under the horizon leaving the room in near blackness save for the small light emitting from the clock on Yoongi’s side of the bed. It read 7:45. I wiggled under Yoongi’s hold but was met with a strangely strong resistance from my supposedly still sleeping boyfriend.
“Yoongi, I need to get up,” I huffed, trying to pry his arms off of me.
He latched his fingers together to prevent any movement. “Why?”
“I’m hungry,” I whined this time.
A small chuckle came from his lips before he turned up to look at me. Even in the darkness, I could make out his beautiful brown eyes as they stared at me with drowsy love. I bit my lip to keep from smiling but Yoongi knew me better than that. He lightly kissed the skin of my neck and buried his face there.
“But I’m so comfortable.”
“No,” he stretched out the syllable of the word like a child throwing a tantrum.
I wiggled underneath him again. “Do you want me to starve!”
“You can survive on my kisses,” he grinned.
I grimaced pulling my head back to give him the most exasperated face I could muster. “Seriously? Did Rap God Min Yoongi just say that to me?”
“Whatever keeps you by my side,” he chuckled.
Glad to see he was feeling better enough to tease me.
“What if you come with me to the kitchen? You can sit there while I cook,” I offered.
He shook his head violently. “The chairs aren’t comfortable.”
“The living room, then?” I tried to compromise.
He waited a beat, his nose crinkling in the way he does when he’s dissatisfied with something. It was such a cute face that I couldn’t help but internally squeal at how adorable he looked.
“Fine,” he grumbled, finally removing his arms from around me, “But you have to help me get there.”
I frowned at my boyfriend as I stood up, glaring at his still form. “What? Do you want me to carry you?”
“Min Yoongi, you may be small but you are still heavy to me,” I rebuked, my arms instinctively jumping to cross over my chest to prove my point.
“Ok, ok. Fine,” he conceded, throwing the blankets off his body and standing. He must have done so too quickly because he wobbled a bit on his feet, a small groan escaping his closed lips. “But can you help me walk, at least?”
“Anything for the love of my life,” I cooed.
This time, it was his turn to grimace.
Going to his side, I wrapped my arm around his waist and threw his arm over my shoulder to help support his weight. He leaned heavily against me causing me to let out a light oof. He frowned and scrunched his face again. I had to resist the urge to boop his nose.
We walked side by side to the living room where my pile of papers lay messily on the coffee table. Yoongi stared down at them, a guilty expression crossing his face as he realized that he had kept me from my work. I didn’t say anything, instead just helped lower him onto the soft cushions of the couch. A small shiver ran across his body and I smiled again.
Quickly, I grabbed a few blankets from the chest in the corner of the living room and bundled them around Yoongi making sure he was snuggly wrapped. Three blankets later, only his head could be seen over the mess of fabrics and colors that covered his thin body. I actually allowed myself to laugh this time, his pouty expression just the icing on this cake. If his members could see him now, they’d never let him live this down.
“Why are you laughing?” he demanded, but it was as vicious as a kitten trying to breathe fire. I almost patted his head.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I spun on my heel and made my way into the kitchen to prepare a meal. His members would definitely be seeing a picture of him like that before the night was up.