Chapter Text
“that’s my coffee.”
jungkook doesn’t hear him. he’s listening through the new bring me the horizon album, nose in his phone because hoseok is texting him some ridiculous story about his new arts TA, and he doesn’t hear him.
he glances up, makes a grab for the cup. someone touches his wrist, light fingertips. he blinks, eyes wide, and looks up.
“that’s my coffee,” he repeats, and jungkook stares.
this guy looks expensive. he’s in a suit that could honestly be worth more than jungkook’s entire closet, and jungkook wonders a little bit what the hell he’s doing in a tiny cafe downtown. he’s looking steadily at jungkook, palm held out in clear expectation.
jungkook bristles, a little. he’s not this guy’s assistant, or something.
and besides, he’s pretty sure it’s his coffee.
“i think it’s mine,” jungkook says.
it comes out all weird and rough because he hasn’t said a single word aloud today. the guy looks at him oddly, eyebrows twitching down in a slight frown. it doesn’t help that this guy is pretty, too. maybe he’s a model? he looks too important to be a model. no offense to models.
jungkook clears his throat.
he repeats it a little louder, “i think it might be mine.”
the extended palm lowers.
“but you can have it,” he adds, because he’s not an asshole, “i’m not in a rush.”
“if it’s yours, i can wait,” the guy cedes, and steps back again.
stands with his hands clasped behind his back, and looks out the window like he’s got hours and hours ahead of him to wait for his coffee. jungkook stares, a little bit. that’s surprisingly nice of him. the coffee is warm in his hands, and god knows he needs it, but now he feels rude. he holds it out.
“you can have it,” he insists.
the guy doesn’t seem to realize he’s being spoken to, instead engrossed in the mother tugging her child along the sidewalk. jungkook clears his throat.
he repeats it a little louder, “you can have it.”
now, the guy turns and looks. jungkook feels pinned to the spot. yeah, definitely not a model. the gaze is similar, but jungkook swears this guy has to be someone important. the suit, the rings on his fingers, when he extends his palm. eyes tracking jungkook as he hands it over.
“thanks,” the guy says. he tilts his head to the side, and then quirks a smile.
jungkook isn’t even sure it’s a smile. it’s the tiniest lift, at the corner of his lips. jungkook turns, and watches Important Guy take a sip in his peripheral. a cough, and then he holds the coffee at arm’s length like it burned him.
“it’s yours. that is so much sugar.”
jungkook frowns. “there’s nothing wrong with sugar,” he protests, turning to face him again.
they’re the only ones in the coffee shop, save for seokjin at the register (jungkook’s favorite, because he usually tacks on the employee discount for him) and a few people doing work at the back. so it’s quiet, and it’s quiet enough that he hears Important Guy snort, disbelieving. it feels very far away from the persona jungkook has crafted for him in the past two minutes, nothing elegant about it at all.
it takes jungkook a moment to realize he’s being offered the coffee again, and he nearly blurts out a rushed sorry , cheeks flushing pink, before he realizes he really should stop over-apologizing. he takes it, frowns at it.
“i don’t want your germs,” he says, and Important Guy snorts again. maybe jungkook should re-evaluate how he does first impressions. don’t judge a book by its cover, and all that. “no offense to your germs.”
“none taken,” says Important Guy. “change the lid.”
jungkook stares down at the coffee cup. jesus, he’s stupid.
“jesus, i’m stupid,” he says.
Important Guy laughs. something quiet, amused. jungkook cracks a smile even though he doesn't mean to.
he likes meeting people, but he doesn’t get to do it often. part of him hopes Important Guy comes back, although he doubts that he will. the coffee here is okay at best, and the prices seem way too low for someone like Important Guy, who has a gold watch on his wrist jungkook is trying not to look too hard at.
he tugs the lid off, takes a sip from the rim. it’s not too much sugar, thank you very much. he sets the cup down on the counter, and then tosses the lid into the garbage, basketball style. when he grabs the cup again and takes a longer sip, Important Guy is looking at him.
“do you play basketball?”
jungkook knows he’s being spoken to and extends his sip, because why is Important Guy speaking to me. he blinks, cups the coffee with both hands.
“used to, in high school. why, do you?”
Important Guy laughs again. jungkook bites back a smile, drowns it in his cup. he hopes Important Guy understands that was a joke, and not just that jungkook really is stupid, and believes that Important Guy is a basketball player.
“that’s very kind of you,” Important Guy says, and shakes his head. surely his coffee should be out by now? jungkook eyes the two steaming cups of coffee on the counter. is one of them his? “but no, i don’t.”
“is one of those yours?” he asks, and points. he remembers suddenly that it’s rude to point, or something, which is a rule he’s never subscribed to but suddenly he feels like he should have a tie on or something, because it feels less like Important Guy is overdressed and more like he’s underdressed.
Important Guy clears his throat, and steps forward to grab one of the cups. the tips of his ears are red. is he flustered? that’s a first. jungkook definitely isn’t paying close attention, not at all.
Important Guy takes a sip, nods in approval.
“the right one?” jungkook asks, lips twitching up.
Important Guy chuckles, and looks at him. it’s the same gaze, the one that pins people to their seats, and jungkook is taken off-guard again by how pretty he is. maybe he is a model? just a very good one.
“yes,” Important Guy says. “have a good day, …?”
he makes a vague gesture, expectant. jungkook has no idea what he’s saying.
“you too?” he tries, frowning.
Important Guy laughs again, and now that jungkook is facing him properly he can notice the way his eyes crease at the edges, how his eyes kind of disappear into his smile. it’s not pretty, it’s cute. jungkook really should re-evaluate his assumptions about people, after this.
“what’s your name ,” Important Guy clarifies.
“ohhh,” jungkook realizes. smiles a little sheepishly, and taps his fingers against the shitty paper of the cup. “jungkook.”
“jimin,” Important Guy offers. jungkook feels like they should be shaking hands, or something. “nice to meet you.”
“yeah, same here,” jungkook nods.
Important Guy— jimin, checks his watch. his eyebrows shoot up. jungkook imagines he’s probably late to something, and feels bad.
“this coffee better be worth it,” jimin says. he shoots jungkook one last look, something friendly and a little amused, and then strides past him and out of the shop.
jungkook takes a sip of his coffee, and looks back down at his phone. thirty missed texts from hoseok.
“amazing,” he grumbles under his breath.
“that’s… my coffee.”
jungkook blinks, stares at the cup in his hand. he’s barely awake. he is barely awake, he rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he saw, and he has no idea what his hair looks like right now. he recognizes that voice, though.
“wha—” he yawns. wow, he is so tired. he should go to sleep before 5am, maybe. “what?”
a laugh. jungkook looks, finally.
“oh,” he mumbles, “it’s you.”
Important Guy— jimin, is there again, in a different but equally nice suit, and this time he’s got someone with him. his hair is bright blue, wow that is so bright, and he is intimidatingly beautiful.
jungkook does not have the energy for this. a headache is already building behind his eyes, and he wants so desperately to go back to sleep. or die.
“it’s me,” jimin confirms.
a smile is still tugging at his lips, and he looks a lot like he wants to make a comment about jungkook standing there half asleep, still absently clutching the coffee, but he doesn’t.
“do you,” jungkook starts, and then narrows his eyes to holds back another yawn, “how much. caffeine do you put in this,” he asks, and shakes the cup in his hand. jimin raises an eyebrow.
“two shots of espresso. it’s an americano.”
“oh, ew,” jungkook frowns. “never mind.”
he turns, leans over the counter. seokjin is taking orders in the front. is yoongi here? maybe he’ll be nice and add extra espresso shots to jungkook’s coffee. or red bull. jungkook yawns, and smushes his chin into his arms. he squints, tries to make out who’s in the back right now.
“do you need something,” seokjin monotones, and jungkook startles.
“how are you so quiet,” he grumbles. “yes, can you add like, a million shots of espresso to my order?”
seokjin eyes him. “no. when did you go to sleep last night?”
“topppp ssseeecrettt,” jungkook drawls. he yawns again. “like, five. i’m going to die, hyung.”
“you are,” seokjin nods. “we have red bull in the back.”
“oh my god i love you,” jungkook mumbles, and buries his face in his arms. he listens to seokjin walk away, click-click of his heels because he insists on dress shoes, for some reason, and closes his eyes.
it’s a dangerous game he’s playing, but if he falls asleep here it might honestly be for the better. power-naps, and all.
“jungkook-ssi,” comes a voice from behind him. fingertips, tapping at his shoulder. jungkook sighs, heavy. he really doesn’t want to move.
“mm,” he says, and lifts his head from his hands. oh my god, this coffee shop is bright. is that jimin, talking to him? he turns, squinting in the light. it is jimin. he probably looks like shit right now.
“can i have my coffee,” he asks.
jungkook realizes a little belatedly that he’d been clutching jimin’s coffee this whole time, hugged it in his arms while he’d taken his mini-power-nap. oops. he feels the heat scream a path up his neck, all the way to his ears. bad way to start his morning, perhaps.
“sorry,” he says, and holds it out.
jimin takes it carefully, clearly holding back a laugh. the guy behind him, Blue Hair Guy, watches this all unfold with a curious smile. if jungkook didn’t know better, he’d label it as evil, because it really does look like Blue Hair Guy is plotting something. the murder of both of them, maybe. but that’s probably just the sleep deprivation, so he yawns and turns and buries his head in his arms again.
“red bull,” says yoongi, and jungkook’s head snaps up.
“hyung,” he breathes, with deep, deep gratitude, “i will kiss you on the mouth right now.”
yoongi chuckles, and slides the red bull toward him. “why don’t you just drop the 8am class? if you’re going to be like this.”
jungkook makes a face. “but i like it. i swear, being half-awake adds to my analysis skills. i’m finding symbolism i’ve never found before. i’m in another dimension. i see all.”
“o-kay,” yoongi chuckles. “customers, jungkook-ah. bye.”
“bye,” jungkook groans, and knocks his head into the red bull can. he’s so tired.
“you’re going to be late for your 8am,” comes a voice from behind him, hushed. jungkook can just make out the words. it’s Blue Hair Guy, and he hears the rustle of clothes as (he assumes) jimin checks his watch.
a quiet, murmured, “shit.”
jungkook feels bad again, and turns. blinks his eyes open. properly open. jimin glances at him, caught up in checking something on his phone.
“um,” jungkook starts, and wow are his ears already red? “i’ve made you late like, twice now, sorry. if you want— if you want i can like. pay for the coffee, i dunno.”
jimin stares at him. in hindsight it’s probably stupid, right, because the watch on jimin’s wrist looks like it costs more than jungkook’s entire studio apartment. but he wants to do something, at least. jimin turns his phone off, and slips it into his pocket. behind him, Blue Hair Guy observes with thinly veiled interest.
“sure,” jimin says. jungkook’s turn to stare.
“wait, actually?”
jimin smiles, a little. “i don’t need you to pay for it,” he says, and jungkook knows this part, at least, “but if you want to do something, then sure. it’s sweet.”
“sweet?”
“it’s sweet of you,” jimin clarifies. jungkook blinks the sleep out of his eyes. he didn’t hallucinate that, right. jimin is still looking at him, that same model-gaze, a little softer now. jungkook holds back yet another yawn.
“um, okay,” he says, and fumbles for his wallet. “what— how much was it? both of them.”
jimin turns, angles himself a little toward Blue Hair Guy. glances over at him expectant, and Blue Hair Guy seems to get it immediately because he pulls out his phone and takes all of ten seconds before announcing— “six thousand and two hundred won.”
jungkook blinks hard down into his wallet. when’s the last time he took out cash? he looks up. jimin is waiting, patient.
“do you have venmo,” he asks, and jimin laughs.
“just— give it to me next time,” he says. next time, jungkook thinks, bewildered. what is it about this coffee shop that has someone like jimin coming back?
“sure,” jungkook nods.
“unless you hold me up again,” jimin adds, and winks.
he seriously, real life, actually winks, and then nods to Blue Hair Guy and they both stride in time out of the shop. it’s something straight out of a movie.
jungkook stares after them, watches in complete and utter shock as a black, tinted, BMW pulls up. a completely ripped guy gets out, holds the door open. jimin ducks his head, thanks him, and steps inside. Blue Hair Guy has a short conversation with the— fucking bodyguard, what the fuck— then climbs into the front seat, and the BMW screeches away from the curb.
jungkook rubs his eyes, and stares at the sidewalk where they used to be.
who the fuck is jimin?
“hoseok.”
hoseok is dancing, of course he is, but jungkook has very important questions and he figures hoseok is the best person to answer them. he turns the volume down, because he’s not mean enough to turn it off completely, and hoseok catches his eye in the mirror.
“let me just finish this,” he calls over the music, and jungkook nods.
he hasn’t gone to google yet, mostly because he’s scared he’ll find out jimin is like, a fucking prince or something, and he’s just embarrassed himself in front of royalty.
he’d rather hoseok just tell him oh, he’s some model, or oh, he’s some rich guy. much easier that way. less stressful. he sets his bag down, sits with his back to the mirrored wall, and watches hoseok dance.
hoseok shoots him a smile, but he’s in Work Mode. so jungkook just watches the furrow of his brow and the serious, serious eyes when he follows his own movements in the mirror, evaluates. jungkook sees when he makes mental notes, the twitch of his mouth, the slight grimace when he misses a step.
“okay,” hoseok pants, when the song comes to an end and he’s stood there hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. “what is it?”
jungkook chuckles. “maybe grab some water first? here,” he says, and offers hoseok his own water bottle. hoseok takes it gratefully, and drains it dry. swipes a hand over his mouth and then promptly collapses against the wall next to jungkook.
“what is it,” he asks again, breaths measured now.
“i have a very important question,” jungkook starts, and hoseok arches an eyebrow. “please be gentle with me.”
“okay,” hoseok chuckles.
“so. you know the coffee place i usually go to.”
“yes,” hoseok nods, and leans forward to start stretching.
“yes, so. there’s this guy i’ve run into twice. we’re like, kind of friendly cause i grabbed his order thinking it was mine and we made small talk, right.”
“right,” hoseok frowns. “why is this important?”
“i think he might be rich? or an important person? i dunno. he looks expensive and i think he has an assistant. and also i saw him getting into a BMW with bodyguards, so.”
hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up. “so who is it?”
“i dunno,” jungkook whines. “all i know is his name is jimin, and i haven’t googled it cause i’m scared he’ll somehow be like, the president—”
“ jimin? ” hoseok asks, pausing. he straightens, and then turns. eyes the size of dinner plates. “you mean, park jimin? ”
jungkook blinks. “if his last name is park, then yeah.”
“jeon jungkook, that is the richest man in korea.”
jungkook balks.
“ what? ”
hoseok stares at him.
“stop. you didn’t actually— hold on, let me just—”
he stands, and crosses the room to grab his phone from by the speakers.
“if you actually literally met park jimin, i’m going to kill you. i dunno if he’s the richest, but he’s up there. he’s the ceo of some important company. he owns like, all the famous cosmetic lines in korea? an entertainment company, and something else too. no idea, just know he’s fucking loaded. there’s no way you met him.”
“i agree,” jungkook frowns, eyes wide. “there is no fucking way. different jimin, probably.”
hoseok crosses the room again, and sticks the phone in his face. in the search bar, park jimin. and on google images, Important Guy’s face staring back at him. press conferences, photoshoots, interviews.
it’s definitely him. jungkook stares and stares and stares.
this is the guy he offered to cover coffee for?!
“why the fuck is he getting coffee where i’m getting coffee,” jungkook breathes. hoseok screeches.
“it’s him?! you’re fucking serious? you’re not, you’re joking, right? you can’t be serious, it’s not park jimin, right,” hoseok insists, shaking his shoulders. jungkook laughs, somewhere between disbelief and total shock. “you’re fucking with me. different jimin, right?”
“no, it’s—” jungkook takes the phone, scrolls. jimin on a red carpet, doing an architectural digest tour , plastered on billboards. “how the fuck have i never seen his face before.”
“what,” hoseok breathes. “you’re actually serious. it’s him? you seriously met park jimin in a random coffee shop like, ten minutes from campus? twice? ”
“i don’t know what to tell you,” jungkook mumbles, scrolling still. he clicks on an article. Park Jimin named youngest billionaire in Korea. what the fuck. “it’s definitely him.”
“oh my god,” hoseok says, sounding faint.
there are so many paparazzi articles. Park Jimin spotted at a club in Gangnam, Park Jimin sleeping with his assistant?!, Park Jimin buys third Tesla of the year.
oh my fucking god, he made park jimin late for meetings. he, jeon jungkook, poor and overworked college student, with a studio apartment and exactly 3000 won cash on him right now, made park fucking jimin late to his meetings. oh, god.
“i’m never going to live this down,” he says.
hoseok nods very gravely.
“never.”
“your coffee,” jungkook says, and holds it out.
he feels a bit like an assistant or something, but jimin still smiles and takes it with a slight bow of his head. it feels weird now, knowing how important he is and still having this rapport with him, where jimin takes a sip of he coffee and nods his approval, and jungkook smiles because he somehow has a bit of an in-joke with park jimin.
“my coffee,” he confirms.
“also, um,” jungkook fumbles for his wallet, pulls out six thousand and two hundred won, “i have— for the other times,” he says, and holds out the money.
jimin stares at him, and jungkook pushes the money forward again. watches jimin’s eyes travel down and settle on the cash in his palm. he reaches out, takes it, folds it, and then slips it into his pocket.
“you don’t— have a wallet?” jungkook asks, and then immediately cringes internally, because that’s not something you ask people, jesus. but jimin chuckles a little, shakes his head.
“i try to go cashless most of the time,” he says. “simpler that way.”
“right,” jungkook hums. right. makes sense.
he’s still waiting for his coffee, and he wonders why jimin is here, because he has his coffee and surely he has BMWs to get into? but no, he’s sipping his coffee and checking his emails or something equally CEO-y. jungkook sways in place, and then turns to him again.
“so i googled you,” he starts, and jimin glances up, lips curling at the edges.
“did you?”
jungkook blanks, a little. he nods, chews on his bottom lip. “mhm,” he hums. “i have no idea how i’ve never seen you before.”
jimin takes a sip of his coffee, and slides his phone back into his pocket. “i assumed you already knew,” he admits, and arches an eyebrow. “i wasn’t expecting you to actually give me the money.”
jungkook blinks his eyes wide. “why wouldn’t i?”
jimin looks at him. jungkook can’t tell if it’s a funny look or a serious one, if jimin thinks he’s weird for trying to give a billionaire money that’s basically negligible or if he respects him for it.
“i was a little worried you were a prince, or something,” he admits, and stares down at his feet. jimin laughs, and when he takes a peek up jimin is looking at him, still.
“i’m going to take that as a compliment,” jimin says.
jungkook hums, nods. stares back down at his feet. he’s not sure what to say, where to go from here.
“i have a question for you,” jimin starts, and steps closer.
jungkook sees the black dress shoes enter his field of vision, polished and sleek, and looks up. they’ve never been this close before. it’s not close, jimin is just standing a regular distance away from him, but still. if he wanted to he could reach out and adjust his tie, his pocket square. jimin’s eyes are really dark, in the cloudy morning.
“sure,” jungkook nods. where the fuck is his coffee? his fingers itch for something to hold, something to fiddle with. he settles with the zipper on his hoodie.
“you know gucci,” jimin says, and jungkook nods. what the fuck is he going to ask me. “okay. i own the korean markets, and we’re launching a new campaign in two to three months.”
jungkook blinks at him. “right.”
jimin is holding back a smile, something amused. “...right. i really don’t do this often, but taehyung— my assistant— is hounding me, so.”
jungkook swallows hard. where the fuck is his coffee?
“so,” he echoes.
“would you be interested in modeling for the campaign,” jimin asks. jungkook stares. “you have the look we need, and it would be, i think, three days of shooting at maximum. you absolutely don’t have to say yes.”
jungkook is still staring. what. jimin eyes him, still kind of smiling. it feels a little bit condescending, but jungkook thinks he might just be making that up. to be fair, it’s not every day he gets— scouted , or something, what—
“what,” he says, and jimin chuckles.
“i can walk you through it, if you want,” jimin continues. “it’s pretty simple, you just have to wear the clothes and look pretty. again, this isn’t mandatory, not in the slightest. you can spit in my face and walk away, i don’t care.”
“i feel like you should care,” jungkook frowns. “if someone spits on you.”
jimin chuckles, ducks his head. “figure of speech.”
“i’ve never heard of it,” jungkook frowns further. jimin waves a dismissive hand.
“i’m just trying to emphasize that you don’t have to say yes.”
“i know,” jungkook says. what the fuck.
“oh, okay,” jimin says, then leans back and takes a sip of his coffee. waits. he’s waiting for jungkook to make a decision. jungkook blinks hard, stares down at the floor. modeling. what the fuck.
“wait so, what— would i be like, in magazines, or something,” he asks, head coming up again, and jimin nods.
“video campaigns,” he adds, “and probably a couple billboards. if you’re worried about privacy, we can get you a security team.”
jungkook’s eyes go wide. “i don’t— what.”
jimin looks at him, seems to realize the utter shock he’s in, and chuckles a little. leans forward again, touches his elbow. just the fingertips.
“i’m guessing you’ve never done something like this before?”
jungkook shakes his head firmly.
“okay,” jimin smiles. “sleep on it, then.”
he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and scrolls. he’s looking for something, and then he turns the screen toward jungkook.
“text me if you have any questions.”
jungkook stares at the phone number on-screen. and then looks up at jimin. and then back at the phone number. he blinks hard.
“fuck me, okay,” he breathes, and pulls out his phone to add park fucking jimin to his contacts. jimin chuckles. his fingers are still pressed to jungkook’s elbow. he’s trying not to think too hard about it, as he types in the number and saves it. “i mean— when do you need a decision?”
it feels like he’s applying for college all over again. jimin tilts his head, thinks. takes his hand away, finally, and jungkook stares a little more at the contact saved in his phone before he puts it away.
“a week, or so. shooting is going to start in early october.”
“okay,” jungkook nods. “what the fuck.”
jimin laughs, sways forward a little. jungkook chuckles, a little nervously.
“you look like i just shot someone,” jimin says, and touches his elbow again, what the fuck.
they’re just close enough that jungkook catches the scent of cologne, coffee drifting over. peaches. peaches?
“i promise it’s not as much of a big deal as you think it is. there are so many nobodies that model and never see a camera again.”
“i’m not a nobody,” jungkook huffs, but it does help a little. jimin chuckles, warm.
“i’m sure,” he nods. takes a sip of his coffee. “is that yours?”
jungkook blinks, breaks himself out of the little bubble they’re in and glances over. his coffee has been sitting there for who knows how long. his cheeks feel warm, warm, warm, when he reaches over and takes it. he sips from it gratefully, cups it with both hands and wiggles his toes in his boots.
dear god, park jimin just personally asked him to model for gucci. even if he says no, this is a hell of a story to tell.
“nice seeing you,” jimin says. jungkook startles, looks up. i thought he left. “and thanks for paying for the coffee.”
jungkook quirks a smile, small. “sure.”
jimin nods at him, and smiles back. and then strides out of the shop, and gets into his fancy BMW with bodyguards, and leaves jungkook there to stare at the new contact in his phone and freak the fuck out.
thread > jimin
jungkook 3:02 pm
> Hello, this is Jungkook
> I have questions about the thing you asked me
jimin 5:39 pm
> Hi! What are your questions?
jungkook
> How does modeling work?
> I have no idea
jimin
> Haha well basically
> You’ll arrive on set and someone will fit you with the clothes, do your makeup, etc. There’s going to be a director that will tell you what to do, and if you listen to the photographer and do as you’re told you’ll be fine. There should also be food somewhere, if that helps
jungkook
> Okay
> What kind of food?
jimin
> Lol like donuts, crackers, etc
> Snacks
> Probably club sandwiches, too
jungkook
> Cool
> How much does it pay?
jimin
> [Attachment: 1 document]
> Pay chart for models incl. royalties, etc
jungkook
> …
> Cool
jimin
> Any idea if you’re going to do it or not?
> I really wouldn’t be pushing but Taehyung (my assistant) insists that you’re the perfect face for the campaign, so
jungkook
> I mean, tell him thank you?
> Is he the blue haired guy?
jimin
> Yeah that’s him
jungkook
> I probably will
> Because… money
jimin
> That’s fair haha
jungkook
> But I feel like I will definitely mess things up
> Will they just like, have clothes in my size?
jimin
> They should, but you’ll probably have to come in and get the clothes tailored a couple days before
jungkook
> Oh okay
jimin
> And you won’t mess things up
> Trust me, I’ve gone into modeling jobs completely blind and been fine
> Just take the director’s and photographer’s words like gospel
jungkook
> Oh okay
> Will try to remember that
> You’ve modeled before?
jimin
> … Yes
jungkook
> Right sorry I forget you’re like, Park Jimin
> Trademark and everything
jimin
> Lol
> But yes
> Any more questions? Sorry but I’ve got a meeting in five mins
jungkook
> Oh no I’m okay, thank you !!
> I don’t want to make you late for even more meetings lol
jimin
> Okay, great
> See you :)
jungkook
> See you
> :)
he does end up taking the job.
it makes him more than a little nervous, because he hasn’t worn anything besides baggy black clothes since he was like, sixteen, but the pay is so good it would physically pain him to turn it down.
so now he’s being fitted for the clothes, there is a tailor touching him places, and he very much wants to go home. he eyes the rack in the corner nervously, because none of those clothes are black and they all look too small for him.
“deep breath,” the tailor says.
he follows, and then the tailor takes his chest measurements. what the fuck has he gotten himself into. he is half-naked in some guy’s studio, and he really wishes he’d brought hoseok with him, all of a sudden.
“baekhyun, is he here?”
jungkook startles. that’s definitely jimin’s voice. he’s in his boxers and he feels suddenly like he should cover up, probably. the tailor nods.
“yup, almost done taking his measurements.”
the tailor’s nice, at least, and he waves jungkook off the platform.
“i’ll get clothes for you to try on,” he tells him. “just wait here.”
jungkook nods, and then stands there feeling too cold and too exposed. jimin steps in through the curtains separating the tailor’s room from the rest of the (very fancy) shop, and he’s clearly glancing around for the tailor. instead his eyes land on jungkook, standing rim-rod straight and fiddling with his fingers.
his eyes flick down, up. jungkook feels his cheeks heat.
“you can put your clothes back on,” jimin tells him, and leans against the doorway. jungkook goes deeper red.
“right,” he mumbles, and makes a grab for his jeans.
how often does the CEO of the company show up for one model’s fitting? he tries not to think about it too much. they’re (kind of?) friends, it’s not that weird.
he feels less exposed in his jeans, and wonders if he should put on his shirt, too. it feels stupid putting them on just to take them off again, but jimin is still looking at him and jungkook wants to hide the red creeping down his neck to his chest somehow.
he clears his throat.
“um. how was your week?”
jimin looks at him oddly.
“fine,” he says.
this is the first time he’s seen jimin outside of the coffee shop, and for once there’s nothing to lean on, nothing to make conversation with. jungkook swallows hard and stares at his feet.
“um,” he takes a breath, “what am i gonna be wearing?”
as if on cue, the tailor returns holding a suit, and jungkook nearly breathes a sigh of relief. no weird rack clothes that look too small and too see-through , thank god. jimin leans on the door and watches, as jungkook pulls on the slacks and shrugs on the dress shirt. is he just here to supervise?
when he’s got the full suit on, the tailor touches his shoulders and turns him toward the mirror. he looks at himself. he looks kind of— weird. not weird, but it doesn’t fit him, not really. the suit fits, of course it does, even if the tailor frowns and tugs at the sleeves and makes mental notes to himself. but it doesn’t look like him.
jimin steps in front of the mirror too, just behind him. his eyes flick down, up. jungkook knows he’s just looking at the suit, but the heat creeps up the back of his neck anyway.
“baekhyun-ssi,” he says, and angles himself toward the tailor, “do we have anything else? maybe the, ah, black top?”
black, jungkook thinks, relieved. yes, please. baekhyun nods and disappears into the back again. jimin eyes him, frowns.
“it doesn’t really fit,” jungkook admits, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
he sticks his arms out, and the sleeves are too small. jimin nods. reaches up, and fixes the collar. his knuckles brush jungkook’s neck, barely there. his hands are warm, gentle, and jungkook barely even registers it’s happening before he steps back again.
“you have to feel confident in the clothes,” jimin tells him. his eyes flick down, up again. jungkook fiddles with his fingers. “do you feel confident in this?”
jungkook shrugs. he doesn’t want to outright say no. jimin catches his eye in the mirror, and arches an eyebrow. that same model-gaze, heavy on jungkook’s. jungkook feels like he’s been caught in a lie, and blinks hard. shakes his head.
jimin nods, satisfied. jungkook feels his cheeks grow warm.
the tailor returns with something black but horribly see-through. something made of sheer mesh, loose and flowery, and as much as jungkook likes the look of it he’s not sure it’s something he would ever wear.
“put it on over the slacks,” jimin tells him, and nods to the tailor.
baekhyun hands him the shirt, and jungkook stares at it. he puts it on as he’s told, and then looks at himself in the mirror. it’s better. he doesn’t expect it at all, but it does feel better. even if he is a little cold, with the air hitting him through the shirt.
“can i try something,” jimin says. jungkook catches his eye in the mirror, and nods.
so jimin steps in front of him, steps close and closer. jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. it’s so quiet, and he hears the rustle of jimin’s suit as he reaches up, and then he’s pushing jungkook’s bangs back, fingers running through his hair. gentle, careful. like he’s trying not to touch too hard.
jungkook goes tense, tense. jimin seems to notice, and pauses, pulls back. looks down at him, and that’s worse. jungkook is scared to speak, because if his breath smells bad then jimin will definitely know.
“is this okay,” jimin asks, quiet.
jungkook stares.
jimin smells like peaches.
“what’re you doing,” he asks, just as quiet. is the tailor still in the room? jimin steps back, just a little.
“fixing your hair,” he says. looks at jungkook careful, careful. like he’s going to break, or something, which jungkook doesn’t appreciate at all. he frowns, and nudges his head forward.
“okay,” he insists. jimin looks at him a moment, before quirking a soft smile.
but he steps forward, and combs jungkook’s bangs back with his fingers. he moves measured and confident, even now. when he steps back and lets jungkook look, his hair is parted down the middle, curled at the edges just a bit. he reaches up and touches, and it falls apart. jimin huffs out a soft laugh.
“sorry,” jungkook winces.
“it‘s fine,” jimin says. “just wanted to see what it would look like. i’ll tell the stylist. this looks good.”
jungkook nods in agreement. did he just say i looked good? jimin’s phone goes off, and jungkook watches his face twitch into a frown, briefly, before he pulls it out and declines the call.
“ready to model?” jimin asks, stepping up behind him again. a friendly smile, and something about it looks forced. jungkook dips his head, nods. jimin pats his shoulders, once, twice. it feels forced, too. “great.”
jungkook looks down at his feet, back up. jimin’s eyes are lingering somewhere at the base of his neck. he remembers suddenly, the guy he took home two nights ago, the mouth latched to the side of his neck. goes light pink, because it’s not like they’re not adults, but still. jimin’s hands are still on his shoulders, absent.
“that reminds me,” jimin says, snapping out of it, and his voice sounds loud in the silence, “i have something for you.”
“something,” jungkook asks, frowning, “for me?”
jimin nods, and disappears into the main shop for a second only to return holding— iced tea. jungkook looks at the cup, jimin’s fingers curled around it. his nails are painted, just a clear coat, but it shines in the light. he takes the iced tea, turns it around in his hands to read the shop it came from.
“i don’t like iced tea,” he winces. jimin blinks. “sorry.”
“i like iced tea,” jimin says, and holds out a hand. “what do you like, then?”
jungkook hands it back. “i dunno. water?”
jimin frowns. “that’s boring. what else?”
jungkook makes a face. “water isn’t boring. ”
“it’s a little boring,” jimin shrugs. jungkook frowns further, and pouts.
“it’s not, we need it to live. and you know, i went to iceland once and the water is like, filtered in directly from the glaciers. it was like, very clean, and very cold. maybe you just haven’t had the right water.”
jimin is looking at him, biting back a smile, bottom lip trapped under teeth. eyes creasing around the edges. he looks fond, almost, but that makes no sense because they barely know each other.
“okay, water isn’t boring,” he cedes. “what else do you like to drink?”
jungkook wrinkles his nose. “coffee, but you know that. i dunno. banana milk?”
“banana milk,” jimin repeats. jungkook nods. “oh my god. okay, sure, banana milk.”
what is oh my god about banana milk, jungkook doesn’t know. just knows jimin is still smiling at him like that, and he feels a little bit like the sun is out even though it’s late afternoon and it’s cloudy and they’re most definitely inside. jimin waves him off the platform, toward the exit.
“there’s a convenience store a couple blocks over,” he says, and jungkook eyes him, eyebrows raised.
“convenience store,” he asks, and jimin nods.
park jimin, in a convenience store. right.
jimin glances at his phone, and his face twitches into a frown again.
“they probably have banana milk,” he says, and looks back toward baekhyun, who jungkook nearly forgot was there entirely. “baekhyun-ssi, have the clothes ready by tomorrow. jungkook-ssi, please take this off.”
jungkook blinks, at the blunt request, but jimin is looking at his phone like he’s definitely late to something so he does, pulls off the mesh top and slips his own t-shirt on. it feels a little weird being addressed as jungkook-ssi, especially after jimin stood close and fixed his hair like that, but it’s fine.
he shrugs on his jacket, and then jimin holds the curtains aside and lets him pass through first, follows him out of the store and out onto the street. jungkook wonders if they should have bodyguards, or something, but jimin seems unbothered.
“you don’t have to get me banana milk,” jungkook says, and shoots a glance over at him. jimin is typing out an email on his phone, brow furrowed. “if you’re busy. i can get it myself.”
“it’s fine,” jimin insists, even though it’s clearly not fine. jungkook takes a breath, steels himself, and then reaches out and taps gently at his wrist. just the fingertips. jimin pauses.
“i can get it myself,” he repeats. jimin’s hands twitch, and then he turns the phone off and slips it into his pocket.
“okay,” he sighs.
his jaw is clenched, he’s still frowning. jungkook wants him to be smiling again, but he has no idea how to do it. he reaches out again, and taps the iced coffee jimin seems to have forgotten he’s holding.
“enjoy my sloppy seconds,” he says, and jimin looks at him. jungkook wonders a little if the joke is going to land at all. then jimin ducks his head, and comes up shoulders shaking. he’s doing a very bad job of hiding his smile. jungkook grins.
“i will,” jimin nods, still chuckling. he sighs, rolls his shoulders back. “alright.”
that sounds a lot like goodbye, so jungkook shuffles his feet against the pavement and waits for it. jimin tips his head back, looks up. jungkook frowns, and does the same. it’s cloudy. the skyscrapers around them reach for the sky.
“it’s going to rain,” jimin says.
jungkook looks back down. jimin is still looking up, and jungkook follows the curve of his jaw, the line of his neck.
“i have a conference call in a few,” he continues, and slips his hands into his pockets. “thanks for doing this.”
“i’m getting paid,” jungkook says, like it’s not obvious. jimin chuckles.
“okay,” he says, and reaches out, taps jungkook’s elbow. just the fingertips. “see you?”
jungkook nods. “see you,” he says, and then watches jimin get swallowed up by the crowd.
he is so uncomfortable.
he’s in the sheer black top, but his neck aches and his arms are tired because he’s been holding this position for what feels like thirty minutes. the smell of fresh donuts wafts over from his left, and he is ready to collapse with hunger.
he’d shown up to the first day of shooting late, which was not a great look, but he had class and ran as fast as he could. he received a cursory glance from the director, and then an intern had directed him to hair and makeup and it had all gone and gone and gone from there.
he hasn’t had time to breathe, not even now when the studio is silent save for the click of the camera. he needs a nap.
“got it,” the photographer calls. jungkook slumps over, sighs.
“jesus christ,” he mumbles, and someone laughs from behind him. he yawns, rolls his shoulders back and presses his index to the knot in his neck.
he glances back, and it’s Blue Hair Guy. taehyung, if he remembers correctly.
he waits for someone to come remove the plastic bubble that’s surrounding him, and makes sure he doesn’t move his legs because he is terrified he’ll mess up the fake shrubbery, crush the fake rocks.
he isn’t even sure what the concept is. he’d just been told act like a fairy, but that hadn’t meant anything to him and so the director had just said chin up, to the side, arms down, and they’d worked like that.
taehyung is smiling at him, boxy and wide. jungkook feels a little better, because at least this is someone he’s seen before, even if they’ve never spoken.
“i can give you masseuse recommendations,” taehyung offers, when jungkook finally steps out from his little circle and away from the cameras. taehyung is in a crisp suit, something reminiscent of jimin’s, but his nails are bright blue to match his hair and his eyeshadow is spectacularly crisp.
“thanks,” jungkook says, even though he is definitely not going to use them. he can barely make rent, thanks, he’s not going to a masseuse. “my entire body hurts.”
“yeah,” taehyung chuckles, “i figured. you know where the food is? you’ve eaten, right?”
jungkook shakes his head. taehyung tuts at him, and then nods them both toward the table at the back. jungkook walks with him without thinking.
“you should always eat before,” taehyung tells him. “same for the fitting. assume you’re going to be bloated, otherwise you’ll end up in clothes that are too small. plus, it just sucks to work on an empty stomach.”
“right,” jungkook nods, reaching hungrily for the donuts. “i ran here from class, ‘s all. didn’t have time. but good to know, thanks.”
“oh,” taehyung hums. “that’ll do it, yeah.”
jungkook munches on the donut, glances around. he was half expecting jimin to be here, because if he could make it to the fitting then surely he could make it to the shoot? but he really has no obligation to, not at all. jungkook might be— acquaintances, with him, but he’s not that special.
jungkook swallows down the last of the donut. taehyung’s keeping him company, which is nice. the rest of the studio buzzes, brings in the second model. jungkook wonders when he can take the makeup and clothes off, who he should ask.
“tell him next week,” comes a voice from behind him, and jungkook nearly breaks his neck trying not to turn. he glances over. it sounds so much like jimin but it’s not, it’s just some businessman. he reaches for another donut.
“jimin couldn’t make it,” taehyung says. jungkook stares at the floor. was he that obvious? “he’s in bali, actually. business deal. told me to tell you.”
“bali,” jungkook repeats. taehyung winks, and offers up that boxy smile again.
“fancy, right? he’s a big deal.”
jungkook chuckles, and takes a bite. “yeah.”
thread > jimin
jimin 3:02 pm
> Hey, how’s the shoot going?
jungkook stares down at his phone. does jimin always do this? taehyung leans over, wiggles his eyebrows when he sees the text.
“checking in, hm?” he hums, and grins.
jungkook
> It’s good! Just finished
> My whole body is going to be sore
“does he always do this,” jungkook asks, looking up at taehyung again. taehyung shrugs, shoots him an enigmatic smile, and doesn’t answer. jungkook makes a face, disgruntled. does nobody want to give him answers, ever?
jimin
> Haha yeah they make you pose in weird positions sometimes
> Did tae offer you masseuse recs yet?
jungkook snorts. he wonders how close taehyung and jimin are, because taehyung talks about him more like a friend than a boss.
jungkook
> Yes, immediately
jimin
> Lol that’s what I thought
jimin is still typing, three dots moving at the corner of the screen. jungkook pouts, and looks back up at taehyung. who looks about as mischievous as he did before, at the coffee shop when jungkook worried he was plotting murder.
“what,” he asks, and taehyung raises an eyebrow.
“mm, no, nothing,” he hums, without a care in the world. jungkook narrows his eyes.
“what,” he asks again. taehyung offers yet another boxy smile.
“all i’m saying is jimin’s a busy man. i don’t see him text much. not for leisure, anyway,” taehyung says, and reaches up, tugs at the flowery decorations around jungkook’s neck. “i think he liiiikes you.”
jungkook stares, heart beating hard in his chest. he hadn’t even thought of that. of somehow catching jimin’s eye in the coffee shop and then this, asking him to model and coming to his fitting and fixing his hair. it makes a little bit of sense. a little bit. but it’s mostly ridiculous.
“for leisure,” he deadpans. taehyung rolls his eyes.
“you know what i mean,” he says, leaning back. “usually it’s all, let’s circle back and how are Q3 sales, and never how’s the shoot going, jungkookieeee— ”
“he did not say that,” jungkook frowns, and when he looks back down jimin is still typing. what the fuck, is he writing an essay. “i don’t— what— he doesn’t like me.”
“right,” taehyung smiles. “he doesn’t.”
jimin
> I’ll be there for the last day of shooting, btw
jungkook blinks. it took him that long to type that out? some small part of his brain, tiny tiny, tells him why would it matter if he’s there, unless he likes you. jungkook frowns, and pushes it away. they are barely acquaintances, it’s not like jimin, Park Jimin™, has a crush on him or something.
he’s pretty sure someone that important isn’t physically allowed to have crushes. crushes are for snotty fifth graders and prepubescent teens, not people who go to bali for business meetings.
jungkook
> Cool :)
jimin
> :)
“smiley faces,” taehyung sing-songs. “you know what that means.”
“it’s called being friendly,” jungkook frowns. “no offense, but i am me and he is him. i really don’t think—”
“whatever you say,” taehyung cuts him off with another boxy smile. “jungkookie.”
jungkook sticks his tongue out at him. taehyung laughs, and jungkook grins. he likes taehyung, even if he seems convinced jimin has feelings he doesn’t. he grabs a handful of chips, and offers one to taehyung.
“oh fuck me, yes,” taehyung groans, and takes it thankfully, and then sticks his hand in and grabs himself his own handful. “i preach about eating before shoots but i don’t do it myself.”
jungkook laughs. “do as i say, not as i do,” he recites. taehyung nods wisely.
“exactly.”
he swears the photographer has a personal vendetta against him, this time.
his back fucking hurts, and he’s been crouched in this stupid fucking box with weirdly realistic fake hands reaching for him for way too long. maybe he will take taehyung’s masseuse suggestions, thanks.
“chin up,” the photographer tells him, for the fifteenth time. jungkook chins up, schools his features into something more sexy than tired. his feet hurt, too.
he’d been promised only a few more minutes roughly thirty minutes ago, and part of him wishes taehyung were here again. he doesn’t know anybody here, except for the director who doesn’t seem to like him very much anyway. he tried making small talk with the makeup artist but he seemed more focused on the eyeliner than jungkook’s questions, so that was a dead end too. and now here he is, at the end of what feels like a very long day, trying his best not to collapse to his knees and immediately go to sleep.
the door near the back of the studio opens, slams closed.
click. jungkook prays to fuck that that’s the last picture.
“chin down,” the photographer tells him. he resists the urge to groan, and tips his head down. “head to the side.”
jungkook sighs, but looks to the side. nearly loses his balance, then, because there’s a group of people straggling by the table of food, and he sees blonde.
jimin.
he’s engrossed in conversation with taehyung and someone else, reaching absently for the crackers. he did say he’d be here, jungkook thinks.
“chin up.”
jungkook resists the urge to groan again, and chins up. he said he’d be here, and technically arriving twenty minutes before the shoot is done is being here.
jimin is in a suit that’s so crisp white jungkook can see it all the way from across the studio. taehyung is matching, and he wonders if they’re always matching. he hadn’t noticed before, whether their suits were coordinated.
when jimin reaches up and tugs at taehyung’s tie, fixes it for him, his watch flashes in the light.
“got it,” the photographer says, and jungkook crawls out of the fucking box they put him in and sits cross-legged on the floor.
he wants to lay down and starfish, spread his limbs wide and take up as much space as he can, because he feels like he’s been in a 1cm-wide box the entire afternoon. he settles for stretching his arms above his head, tipping his head to the side and stretching his neck, too.
he uncrosses his legs, spreads them and feels his knees thank him in relief. maybe he really will take taehyung’s masseuse recommendations.
“hi.”
jungkook glances up, and jimin has made his way over, somehow, during his small recuperation. he swallows down a smile, because surely they’re not there yet, he shouldn’t be that glad to see him, and waves.
“hi,” he echoes. “everything hurts.”
jimin chuckles, and then squats to sit on the floor across from him. pushes the wires back and sits cross-legged too. jungkook doesn’t expect it at all. won’t his suit get dirty? jimin pulls off his blazer, sets it on the floor.
“there’s a massage parlor right down the block from the coffee shop,” he says. “they give student discounts.”
jungkook blinks, caught off-guard. that’s nice, he thinks. he wonders if jimin looked it up, or something, or if he just knows. he seems to understand that jungkook doesn’t have the means to take taehyung’s suggestions, anyway. he points at the blazer.
“it’s gonna get dirty,” he says. jimin follows his finger, and gingerly lifts the blazer.
“not to sound,” jimin narrows his eyes, and sets the blazer back down, “ rich , but i have a million of these.”
jungkook snorts. “you sound rich.”
“yeah,” jimin winces. “it’s fine. i really do have a million.”
“okay,” jungkook hums.
he feels a little better, because he can finally sit up straight and actually move his limbs the way he wants to. (jimin is here. it’s a little bit that, too.) he can see the director eyeing them from afar, and wonders just how odd it is for jimin to be talking to him like this.
“how was bali,” he asks. jimin wrinkles his nose.
“it was pretty,” he says, “but that’s about all i want to say about it.”
“fair,” jungkook nods. they’ve never talked about work before, why start now. jimin extends a leg, and nudges at jungkook’s foot with his own.
“they’ve got strawberry milk at the table over there,” he says, and nods behind them. “what’re your feelings on that?”
“i like strawberry milk,” jungkook smiles, he can’t really stop himself.
thinks again of taehyung’s teasing, and wonders if it’s true, if jimin really does rarely text ‘for leisure,’ if he really does rarely check in personally on models and insist on buying them banana milk.
jimin stands, grabs the blazer from the floor and shrugs it on again. jungkook gets to his feet too, prepared to follow jimin to the table of food, when jimin purses his lips and scans the room for something. someone, jungkook assumes. jimin seems to find what he’s looking for, and turns back to jungkook.
“i have CEO things to do,” he announces, slightly apologetic, and jungkook smiles a little. a wordless it’s fine, i don’t mind . “sorry. i’ll join you in a minute. or five, because god knows kihyun can’t shut up.”
jungkook chuckles. “okay,” he nods, and watches jimin stride off toward the pink-haired guy standing off in the corner, in deep conversation with the director and photographer.
he really does want that strawberry milk, wants something sweet. and, to sit back down again. so he makes a beeline for the food table, and finds taehyung once he’s got the milk opened and half-finished. taehyung spots him first, waves. the rest of the group turns, and jungkook slows a little.
they all look like business men, identical black suits and ties. one of them has dyed grey hair, and he’s smiling, but the rest just look boring. no offense. jungkook offers a shy wave.
“hello,” he greets, and taehyung smiles his boxy smile back at him, parts his mouth to say something—
“look, it’s his little pet,” chuckles one of the businessmen. jungkook frowns. taehyung’s smile drops, and he shoots the businessman a look that has even jungkook curling into himself, a little bit. then taehyung turns to him and holds out a hand, waves him over.
“how was the shoot, jungkookie,” he asks. jungkook steps closer, a little wary. “not too sore?”
“pretty sore,” he admits. “is it always like this?”
taehyung shakes his head. “no, just depends on the concept. sometimes they make you literally just lie on the floor, and that’s great.”
“why couldn’t i do that,” jungkook frowns, and taehyung chuckles. the businessmen chuckle too, but something about it just feels mean. taehyung must notice it as well, because he gestures toward the couches at the back.
“you probably wanna sit down, huh,” he says, and jungkook nods gratefully. taehyung cranes his neck, shoots a look at the grey-haired businessman. “joon-ah, come too. i have a question for you.”
the grey-haired businessman nods. he’s tall, jungkook notes, as they break away from the pack and head toward the couches. there’s a few models hanging around there, probably recovering the same way he is. he smiles, receives a few smiles back. they seem nice, at least. he sinks like melted butter into the couch, closes his eyes.
“oh fuck,” he groans, and taehyung laughs. “wow, i’m going to fall asleep here.”
“don’t, the director will crucify you,” taehyung chuckles. “but believe me, i get it.”
jungkook sighs, blinks his eyes open. he takes a swig of the strawberry milk, and sets it on his knee. the couch is really comfortable.
“you’re jungkook, right?”
it’s the tall businessman. jungkook turns to him, and nods. takes the outstretched hand and shakes it.
“yeah,” he says, and offers a small smile. “and you’re—?”
“kim namjoon,” he says. “long-time friend of jimin’s. sorry, i know i blend in with the rest of ‘em.”
jungkook chuckles. “it’s fine. the hair kind of tipped me off,” he says, and gestures to the dyed hair, parted down the side, curling a bit long around the base of his neck. namjoon nods sagely.
“i’m glad the hair is doing its job. i’m actually in music, so i hate when people assume i’m in business,” he admits, and jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up.
“you do music?” he asks, and sits up so he’s not becoming one with the couch anymore. “what kind?”
“production, mostly,” namjoon smiles, at his enthusiasm. “but i rap, too.”
“that’s so cool,” jungkook breathes, eyes wide. “what kind of rap? what kind of production?”
namjoon chuckles, ducks his head. when he comes up the tips of his ears are pink, and jungkook finds it a little bit funny that someone like him can get flustered by that.
“usually r&b, hip hop, something like that,” namjoon explains. “but it changes. i have an album out, if you want…? not to just, self-promote, but—”
“no, no, i want to listen,” jungkook nods, leaning forward. “what’s it called?”
“mono,” namjoon tells him. “it’s under RM, my pseudonym. it’s pretty short. you don’t have to listen to it, but yeah, it’s out there.”
“cool,” jungkook grins, and makes a mental note. mono, RM. “and you produce too? like, for other people?”
namjoon nods again. “yeah, you’d probably recognize some names. i’m signed under jimin’s entertainment company, technically.”
jungkook is briefly floored, by the fact that jimin owns an entertainment company, because he kind of forgot. but he recovers quick, and blinks hard.
“cool,” he repeats. “sorry, i’m just asking tons of questions because i’m in school for music right now. i’ve never like, actually met someone that’s made it.”
“made it,” namjoon chuckles, and ducks his head again. “i don’t know about that, but yes. if you count doing music professionally as making it, then yes. and you know, it’s good that you know jimin, if you want contacts in the music industry.”
“oh,” jungkook says. he hadn’t even thought of that. “yeah, i guess so. wait so, do you perform or anything?”
“hi,” comes jimin’s voice from beside them.
jungkook looks at him. he seems to have abandoned the blazer completely, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. he glances between them, smile tugging up at his lips.
“i see you’re getting to know each other.”
jungkook nods. “hi,” he replies. “do you—” he looks around. they kind of took the entire couch, namjoon on one cushion, taehyung on the other. “want to sit. um, are there other couches—”
“i’m fine,” jimin chuckles, and leans to drag a folding chair over. “but thank you.”
jungkook finishes the last of his strawberry milk, and sets it on the coffee table. jimin follows the movement, for some reason, and when jungkook glances at him he’s still watching. jungkook sinks into the couch. taehyung chuckles from beside him, and he can’t figure out why.
“i do perform,” namjoon says, jumping in again. jungkook turns to him, and his ears are still kind of red. “sometimes. but mostly i’m behind the scenes.”
“cool,” jungkook says for the millionth time. “does that mean you’re on TV? what songs have you produced? sorry— i know i’m like, basically interviewing you—”
“no worries,” namjoon chuckles. he reaches into his pocket, and his shoulder presses into jungkook’s when he leans. “i’m on TV sometimes, yeah. if you look at the top 50 charts, there’s probably one of mine on there.”
“ seriously? ” jungkook asks, eyes wide. namjoon chuckles, and nods. he holds out his phone.
“if you want to keep interviewing me,” he clarifies, when jungkook stares at it for too long.
“right, right,” he realizes, and glances around for his backpack where he’d left his phone, discarded somewhere near the entrance.
jimin taps the coffee table, and jungkook looks at him. his phone is on the table, face down, spiderman logo on full display. he goes pink, a little bit, because he didn’t need everyone to know he’s a marvel fan.
he wonders if jimin got it for him, and then realizes he must have. or gotten someone else to get it for him. he types in namjoon’s number.
“right,” he says again. “very not used to having famous people in my phone.”
namjoon chuckles. “i wouldn’t say i’m famous. ”
“yeah, but he is,” jungkook insists, and nods to jimin, who’s caught up in emails again. “and trust me, to me you’re all famous.”
“i guess so,” namjoon admits. “i don’t really consider myself famous.”
“if you’re on TV you’re famous,” jungkook declares, very seriously.
namjoon chuckles, “sure.”
jungkook types out mono, RM in his notes app too, just in case, and then traps it under his thigh and presses his palms to his knees. he wants to ask jimin can i go now? but that seems a little rude, and also— his little pet echoes in his ear.
clearly it’s not normal for jimin to be talking to him like this, and other people have noticed. he doesn’t want to get special treatment, not like this, so he sucks in a breath and turns to taehyung.
“when is the shoot over?”
taehyung purses his lips, glances around. “soon, i think. you can probably change out of these clothes, if you want.”
“oh thank fuck,” jungkook groans, and stands. winces, at the soreness in his thighs.
he changes and returns in his regular baggy black clothes, collapses on the couch again. it’s somewhere like 3pm, and he hasn’t really had a proper lunch. he wonders if he can get hoseok out of the studio for long enough to eat with him. he pouts as he types.
thread > hoseok
jungkook 3:12 pm
> are u gonna be lame or are u gonna eat a late lunch w me
hoseok
> im gonna be lame </3
> i already grabbed lunch w yoongi and i really wanna get this part of the choreo down before our next practice
> sorry
he makes a face at his phone, scrunches his nose and then sighs. it’s fine, he can probably grab lunch at the coffee shop and rope seokjin into talking to him. his stomach growls.
jungkook
> >:(
> its ok i’ll annoy seokjin hyung instead
hoseok
> as u should
“jungkookie,” taehyung says from beside him. jungkook glances over. taehyung is waggling car keys at him, he can’t for the life of him figure out why until taehyung rolls his eyes and continues, “we’re getting lunch. d’you wanna ride in my S-class mercedes?”
jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up.
“sure,” he says.
maybe he won’t end up annoying seokjin at all.
taehyung’s car is really nice. of course it is, he’s the assistant to like, the richest man in korea, but still.
jungkook mostly just stares at the nice leather and the fancy dashboard on the ride to wherever they’re having lunch. for some reason taehyung won’t tell him, which is fine by jungkook because he’ll go anywhere as long as there’s food and somewhere to sit.
“here you are, sir,” taehyung grins, getting the door before jungkook can even touch the handle.
“how did you even get here that fast,” jungkook frowns, stepping out. he knows it probably looks stupid, taehyung in his nice car and nice suit, and jungkook in his oversized hoodie he’s had for like, five years.
“i am very good at my job,” taehyung announces proudly.
jungkook thinks of jimin stepping out of this car, maybe, taehyung holding the door open for him. the flash of cameras, hair slicked back. he forgets, a little bit, that jimin is that, too. it’s hard to forget, but he seems to forget anyway.
they're in front of a modern art museum, from what jungkook can tell. he’s not even sure buildings are supposed to look like that, and he worries for the architectural soundness of its walls because surely concrete isn’t meant to bend that way? but taehyung seems fine with it, and leads them inside.
then jungkook realizes it isn’t a museum at all, it’s a fucking restaurant.
taehyung says something to the hostess, low and quick, and then a waiter materializes out of nowhere to lead them to their table. are all of their lunches like this? is this a casual lunch, in taehyung and jimin’s book? jesus christ.
jungkook feels supremely underdressed. supremely.
he takes care not to gawk too much at his surroundings, carries himself straighter. he’s kind of glad his hair is still styled, because at least he doesn’t look like a total commoner.
“here you are,” the waiter says, and motions to the table in front of them.
jimin and namjoon are already there, in their perfectly tailored suits, conversing in low tones. he catches the couple one table over shooting him an odd look, nothing targeted but just a general confusion. why is he here, it reads, and jungkook blinks hard, fiddles with his fingers anxiously. it feels a lot like they’re right, like he shouldn’t be here.
he sits gingerly, taehyung next to him.
“i can talk to sihyuk for you,” jimin is saying, brow furrowed. “he shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“are you sure,” namjoon asks. he’s frowning too. jungkook clutches the sides of his seat and stares at the menu in front of him.
he cannot afford any of this.
he was expecting a nice restaurant but not this, this fucking museum with high ceilings and windows to match. and, it seems— all the rich and important people in seoul.
“the food here is amazing,” taehyung tells him, nudges his arm. “the steak? mwah. a-maz-ing.”
jungkook nods, and frowns down at the menu. he can get… an appetizer, maybe? if he eats into next month’s budget, he can get a slightly more expensive appetizer.
maybe he’ll just not eat, how about that.
he tucks his ankles under the chair, and sets the menu down. he wants to escape, because clearly none of them are thinking the same thing he is. they’re all in their fancy suits, and they look like they belong here.
jungkook chews anxiously on his bottom lip.
“so you’re into music,” taehyung asks him. jungkook wants to cling to him for dear life right now, and he nods gratefully.
“i’m majoring in music production and a general arts concentration,” he says, glad that this, at least, is something he knows about. “it’s a five year program but i think it’ll be worth it.”
“sounds fancy,” taehyung smiles. “what’re you learning right now?”
jungkook wrinkles his nose. “boring audio engineering stuff, mostly.”
“d’you wanna do music once you graduate?”
“yeah,” jungkook nods. “the program i’m in, a lot of the professors also produce professionally so hopefully once i’m done i’ll have a good network. i wanna start work right away.”
“that sounds cool,” taehyung hums.
jungkook is practically begging him to ask something else, legs bouncing under the table, but taehyung just checks his phone and tips his head back to admire the ceiling. jungkook wants to keep talking but he doesn’t want to be overbearing , either.
“what kind of music do you make?”
it’s jimin, elbows braced against the table as he leans forward. jungkook’s eyes dart to him. model-gaze, again, the sharp eyes. he shifts in his seat.
“any,” he says, “cause we kind of have to know how to make anything. but i like edm, usually. or r&b.”
“really,” jimin asks, lips twitching up. “i would have guessed something more like metal, for you.”
“i look emo, yeah,” jungkook nods wisely. “but no, metal is— loud. ”
“metal is loud,” jimin repeats, smile growing. jungkook doesn’t know what there is to smile about in metal is loud. “okay. do you listen to edm and r&b too?”
jungkook nods again. “almost exclusively. but good music is good music, anyway, i’ll listen to anything. rap,” he adds, and gestures to namjoon. namjoon smiles.
jimin’s eyes flit to namjoon, back to him. he leans back in his seat, and scans the menu. “what do you think you’ll get,” he asks, and jungkook winces.
“i’m not sure,” he says, which is technically true. “i’m not that hungry, so maybe just an appetizer?”
jimin’s eyes flit up to his, quick quick, and he frowns. “you’re not hungry?”
jungkook shakes his head very resolutely. he can eat the appetizer, and then probably go home and make himself ramen. it’ll be fine. if there’s bread for the table he’ll grab some of that.
“not really.”
jimin’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t say anything more.
jungkook clutches the sides of his chair, and decides he’ll pick the second cheapest appetizer. just in case someone notices. and even then, that’s still almost 60-fucking-thousand won he’s going to have to spend. he wonders how they’re going to pay, if they’ll split the check or if he’ll have to scramble for cash again.
the waiter comes around, takes their orders. he has no idea how to order at a place like this, and he’s is relieved that jimin and taehyung go first, because he can just mirror them. they get wine for the table, which he assumes he isn’t expected to pay for? but he takes small sips anyway, because drinking on an empty stomach is never a good idea.
jimin keeps shooting him little looks, in between sentences. jungkook has no idea why. even if he plays into the idea that jimin likes him, it’s not like jimin’s checking him out or anything. he just looks vaguely frown-y.
his stomach growls, and he wills it to shut the fuck up. he would eye the door to the kitchen, but he swears the waiters must teleport in and out, because he has no idea where it is.
his phone buzzes against his thigh.
it’s rude to check, right. but then again, maybe hoseok changed his mind and maybe he can get a ride from here to the coffee shop and he can scarf down like, two sandwiches in a row and then go home.
he checks his phone.
thread > jimin
jimin
> Hey, don’t worry about paying for this
jungkook blinks hard. reads it, reads it again. how does he know, he thinks, bewildered. he assumes the pieces aren’t very hard to fit together, but still.
jungkook
> I can pay you back later
jimin glances at him across the table. jungkook feels his cheeks heat, a little, at this silent conversation. it feels illicit, somehow, that they’re talking and nobody knows. even if it’s just about food.
jimin
> If you try and keep up every time I take you to lunch you’re going to go broke
jungkook stares. every time i take you to lunch. his heart is somewhere near his throat, beating and beating and beating. maybe taehyung has a point? but maybe jimin just means— lunch with taehyung and namjoon, again.
take you to lunch. how many more of these are there going to be? jungkook swallows hard.
jungkook
> I can still pay part of it
jimin
> Not to sound… rich, but you’re still going to go broke
jungkook wrinkles his nose, disgruntled. it feels wrong to eat and pay nothing for it. he doesn’t like it at all.
jungkook
> Then eat cheaper
jimin looks at him across the table. jungkook meets him there, because he really, really doesn’t like things not being fair, not like this. he doesn’t want to be jimin’s little pet.
jimin’s eyes are sharp, cat-like. jungkook forgets he’s Park Jimin, but he sees it here. the power, in his gaze. jungkook feels like he’s pinned where he sits, but he stares back anyway.
he can see jimin thinking, see the consideration. his eyes drift down to jungkook’s hoodie, to the design on it, faded in the wash. to his wine glass, barely full.
jimin blinks hard, and sighs. his frown softens.
jimin
> Okay
jungkook clenches his jaw, and holds back the smile.