Chapter Text
“When you’re ready.”
There's no ticking clock counting him down but he feels like there should be something ominous and dramatic. In post production there’ll be tense music, close-ups of the contestants looking nervous, and a commercial break right before the moment of truth.
As it is, Seokjin’s been ready, he doesn’t need any time to consider this, in fact it might be one of the easiest decisions of his entire life. People hang in the balance, dozens of expectant eyes on him as he turns to the large silver tray being held diligently at his elbow.
There are plenty of roses, thorns removed and perfectly selected to be the symbol of true love. Seokjin considers leaving them where they rest or better yet upending the entire tray, but that’s not what he signed up for.
The whole situation is vaguely hilarious to him but he tries to school his expression because the people in front of him standing in neat rows came here hoping for something, maybe love but probably just hoping to win. He gathers up the small bushel of flowers and steps forward.
The first round seems surprisingly easy. Seokjin’s rich, not stupid, and he can tell who’s here for money, who’s here for fame. Not that he blames them, that’s the nature of reality TV, of contestant shows. It’s been too hard to get to know that many of them of the last few days, rotating faces and names he couldn’t quite hold on to, save a few.
A carousel of handsome men introducing themselves, sometimes more than once because Seokjin struggled to remember them but they didn’t seem discouraged. He’s used to being doted on, to the ass kissing because it’s been a permanent facet in his life since he was old enough to have his own credit card.
Even back then people thought they were clever by pretending to be kind while squeezing him for anything they could and it was weird that with more money in the bank than he knew what to do with he still felt bled dry.
Most of these guys have just been shadows of those old ghosts, working an angle with false flattery and empty promises and though he’s been kind - because he always tries to be - he saw right through it. Maybe he didn’t remember their names but he couldn’t forget the feeling, the sinking chill every interaction gave him.
But there are definitely a handful that seemed more genuine in a way he didn’t expect during this whole endeavor and he’d like to get to know them better, keep them around. Those few immediately get roses - he figures if he can remember a name and a face? Potential marriage material right there, or at least more so than the others.
It’s not necessarily that Seokjin wants to get married, he’s just… lonely. His house is too big and most of his “friends” rotate through it like it’s a resort and not his private residence, maintaining a buffered distance that leaves him wanting something real.
A myriad of relationships under his belt and he doesn’t think one I love you was honest, from them or from him. He dated who he was supposed to, then tried dating who he wasn’t supposed to, then gave up all together.
One of these guys could be the real thing.
Seokjin had been drunk when he decided to throw his name in the hat for the upcoming season of The Catch, not even serious about it but the person he spoke to was kind and excited and he got swept away in the appeal. It seemed like a good idea at the time - the time being 4am after too many glasses of wine on another night alone in a house too big for one man.
He had honestly forgotten all about it, blacked it out and was startled awake into a shockingly bad hangover when his phone rang and he was informed by a very excited producer that he, Kim Seokjin, multi billionaire, had been chosen as the Most Eligible Man in Korea, the newest star for the upcoming season.
No amount of “no thanks yous” could shake them and even though he knew this was likely going to be a disaster he was getting really tired of eating alone, and sleeping alone, and doing literally everything alone. The media had even previously referred to him as a wealthy recluse which wasn’t entirely accurate, more harsh than he’d like. He was shy, really, and exhausted from a lifetime of being used for money and affluence so he’d drawn in a little more each year.
Maybe putting himself out there and splashing his face across the tabloids again was just what he needed to break out of this funk. He had two weeks to tie up loose ends at his estate before they shuttled him to the staging area, a home not unlike his own but bursting at the beams with people.
Seokjin wasn’t incredibly familiar with the show aside from the episodes he caught late at night when he was drunk and looking for something to numb his brain, to yell at but he still baffled at how there could be any chance at intimacy with the crew constantly swarming like gnats, the mics and mounted cameras around every corner.
Though he’d been able to bring his own clothes they had a second wardrobe for him and someone to style him, reminiscent of his stint at a modeling career in Milan. There were crew people in almost every corner and stairwell.
And of course, the contestants. 37 eligible, hopeful men who have been vying for his attention from the get go.
It’s been utter chaos to put it lightly. He has his own room, thank god, but the others are packed in two or three beds to a room and he’s pretty sure some of them want to kill each other and others are already sleeping with each other which - he’s not one to judge, but he can’t help but get a little huffy because they’re supposed to be there for him. It would be nice if he was the one getting laid for once.
Seokjin smiles while he hands out 25 roses, twirling one of the remaining ones between his fingertips, watching the expectant and anxious faces before him. He’s only supposed to send 8 of them home this first round but as he surveys his choices, he can’t pick anyone else he wants to keep around.
The production team wants to draw it out for ratings, to meet their episode quota, and they loaded all of those roses onto that stupidly big silver platter but he drops 4 of them back onto it to wilt.
The producers cut and try to reset, the director yelling that they can edit the scene.
“It’s fine, we can edit it and no one will even see the break if you’ll hand out the last-”
In his first moment of defiance since they started he refuses. “No, I think I’m good.”
Jaws drop, the men with empty hands glancing nervously and a few of the ones who made the cut smug or amused.
“Seokjin-ssi-”
“Thanks everyone, have a good night,” Seokjin curtly bids the contestants - active and dismissed - and the production crew a pleasant evening before rushing to the hulking spiral staircase and taking the steps two at a time to escape to his room.
There are cameras here too, so Seokjin locks himself in his bathroom for over 30 minutes trying to settle himself. He doesn’t feel bad about sending people home, not really, but he worries about the next round, if he’s going to make the right calls again and again.
He washes up and gets ready for bed, knowing there will be hell to pay for the shit he pulled, for skipping his post-ceremony interview but for now he just needs to recharge.
~
Seokjin wakes up groggy just like he has every morning since he got here. There was a time when his life was an ever changing backdrop of hotel rooms scattered across the globe, beds of people whose names he never bothered getting - which seems to be a recurring problem considering he’s forgotten every single one from the men he sent home yesterday.
He groans as he sits up, plucking his phone off the nightstand to check the time and swipe away the headlines from Naver, some even about him again. His laugh is a little delirious considering how hard he tried to get out of the spotlight for so long just to end up back there.
He doesn’t even have anyone he can pin it on, no one close enough to have talked him into it on a drunken dare, just his soul crushing loneliness to blame. He’s only one week in and he already wishes he could be through with it but 11 more weeks of prime time slots have his name attached.
“Seokjin-ssi?” he hears one of his assistants say softly from the other side of his door, a faint knock trailing after.
“I’m up!” he calls out, reluctantly throwing the blankets off and heading for the shower.
~
It’s such a weird experience, if Seokjin were at home he’d spend the day gaming maybe, watching TV, napping, but now every day there’s at least one activity planned, something designed to get him the maximum footage with all the contestants, so many hours every week that will be condensed down into just 50 minutes. As if the viewers could possibly get a feel for anything that’s happening from something so butchered, edited for high drama.
Seokjin isn’t into drama, he doesn’t like being manipulated but his former reputation preceded him - the guy in his 20s who had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it, so much excess he was constantly buying himself into trouble and then bribing his way back out of it. It had convinced the producers he’d be just the star they were looking for this season,
That seems so long ago everything’s changed since then, he’s changed, and he wonders if the show runners have fully caught on yet.
“Morning,” Hoseok mumbles when Seokjin gets to the kitchen. He hasn’t been to hair and make-up yet, a stocking cap perched on his head as he leans on the counter, hovering over the coffee maker.
Seokjin leans next to him. “Sleep okay?” Hoseok hums neutrally as he pours the hot coffee over ice, adding cold water before passing it to Seokjin. “Oh- you don’t have to- I can make my own.”
Hoseok shrugs. “Already made some for Namjoon-ssi and Jungkook-ssi, I’m getting good at it.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin says and Hoseok smiles before he starts to grind the next round of beans.
Seokjin’s headed out to the patio when he hears Jimin. “Oooh, coffee?” and this time Hoseok’s hum is affirmative.
It’s early enough in the year still that the morning air is still crisp even though Seokjin knows by the afternoon the heat will be unbearable. He sees Yoongi in one of the folding lounge chairs, his knees drawn up into his hoodie as he sips his Americano, and Seokjin thinks if he’s really going to do this, he’s going to have to get to know people.
Yoongi glances over as Seokjin takes the chair next to him and nods in acknowledgement before looking back out over the pool. “Ready for the party later?” Seokjin tries after a few awkward seconds.
“I don’t swim,” Yoongi says simply.
Seokjin purses his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the right person to give this socializing thing a shot with. “Can’t?”
“I hate being wet,” Yoongi corrects.
“You don’t have to get in the pool,” Seokjin points out and Yoongi shrugs.
“Might just take a nap instead.”
Seokjin’s about to say something snarky about Yoongi not wanting to be here and how Seokjin can gladly send him on his way if he’d like but his hair and make-up assistant appears out of seemingly nowhere to escort him inside to get ready. Yoongi smirks and waves as Seokjin’s steered inside.
Seokjin doesn’t see much point in hair and makeup if he’s potentially ending up in a pool but he’s learning to pick his battles, zoning out while the stylists buzz around him, while someone picks out his swim trunks and sun shirt as if he was a child who was incapable.
Maybe some of the previous bachelors enjoyed this kind of pampering, though most must have been used to it, all being of a similar background as Seokjin - rich and usually at least moderately famous.
Seokjin always hated having notoriety just because he was born into family money, eventually despised it so much that in a particularly nasty fight with his parents he told them he didn’t want it anymore. They were so angry with him, they were more than happy to cut him off.
Being free of it was short-lived; when his parents’ private plane went down a few months later all that money became Seokjin’s again.
“Seokjin-ssi? They’re ready,” one of his stylists says, pulling him out of his thoughts thankfully. He diligently works to avoid thinking about that time, drinking plenty to forget. He changes quickly into his pool wear and heads down to the patio.
The party is reminiscent of ones he used to go to in school, or ones he would throw when his parents were away - a bunch of people getting drunk and trying to hook up - except now they’re all trying to hook up with him.
The second he steps out of the house the chatter dies down and all eyes are on him, something he should be used to but it’s been a while. The motives haven’t changed, his suitors wanting fame, fortune, but something about having a camera pointed at them makes them ten times more obnoxious about it.
There’s nothing for it; he wades into the throng. There’s only 25 of them left but it seems like hundreds, probably magnified by the sheer amount of crew people. The sea parts and he’s practically ushered to a lounge chair. As quickly as the crowd made way for him, now they start to descend.
Jungsik is laying on the lounge chair next to him, trying to chat him up while not so subtly flexing, popping his bare pecs in Seokjin’s direction. Dude’s nice enough but fairly boring, nothing memorable about him, but Seokjin has manners so he at least pretends to listen to the details of Jungsik’s workout routine.
Suddenly Dongha appears on his other side with an impressive pink frozen cocktail, complete with two tiny umbrellas. “Hey.”
Immediately Seokjin can feel the annoyance rolling off of Jungsik as Dongha offers the drink to Seokjin, who gladly takes it. He’s going to need alcohol to get through Jungsik’s play-by-play of “leg day.”
“Um, we’re kind of in the middle of something,” Jungsik says, not bothering to mask his irritation.
Dongha snorts. “He looks bored to tears, bro. You’ve had him long enough, let someone else have a turn.”
Seokjin frowns because he’s not a thing to be had, for one, and he’s not up for either of these assholes having a turn with him. He scoots up in his chair so he’s sitting, no longer able to enjoy the relaxation he so temporarily had a grasp on.
Jungsik stands up quickly and Seokjin decides fuck it, might as well enjoy the show, so he sips his beverage and watches Dongha round his lounge chair to get in Jungsik’s face.
Seokjin’s never had anyone physically fight over him. His parents would sometimes fight about him - what he should be allowed to do, how much money he could spend, curfew. Once when he was in school two of the girls got into an online war over who should get to date him (and boy did he have news for them). But this is something else entirely.
“Back off, dude, you do not want any of this!” Jungsik threatens and as they bump bare chests suddenly Namjoon is there, trying to force them apart.
“Guys, hey. Come on, this isn’t necessary. I’m sure we can work it out-”
“Mind your business!” Dongha yells and Seokjin laughs - outright and loud - at how cliché this is, and about how it doesn’t matter because he already knew neither of them were getting roses this week.
Everyone else has gathered around the edges of the argument and the second Dongha shoves Jungsik, someone is gently taking Seokjin by the elbow and quietly easing him out of the pivot point of the fray. Seokjin glances over to see Hoseok by his side, getting him to the outskirts of the fight.
“Yikes,” is all Hoseok says as they watch Jungsik and Dongha shove each other, and of course the producers will step in before any punches get thrown but Seokjin’s bored of this already. He can’t wait for Friday to be rid of these idiots. The crowd closes in and he can’t really see anymore but he hears a tell-tale splash and more aggressive screaming. He shares a look with Hoseok before pushing his way through to see what these pumped up morons have gotten themselves into just in time to see Dongha jumping in the pool to get at Jungsik who’s already wading over to presumably beat his ass.
“Hey!” Seokjin calls out over the commotion, and has to do so a few times to get their attention. “I’m not waiting for Friday. Pack your shit and get out.”
“Yeah, get out, “ Dongha snaps at Jungsik
“He’s talking to you,” Jungsik barks back.
“Yah, I’m talking to both of you!” Seokjin exclaims.
The speed at which they forget their brawl to plead their cases to stay, yelling over each other, gives Seokjin whiplash but he instantly turns to leave until a producer catches him by the arm.
“You can’t do that, there are rules- we’ll edit it and on Friday you can let them go,” the producer says.
“Nope. That was it, the last take, and they can both go. You wanted reality TV, you got it, and that means no do-overs,” Seokjin grits out, shaking out of the producer’s hold and marching into the house.
Seokjin lingers near the front door until he’s sure Jungsik and Dongha have indeed collected their belongings, amused at the way Jungkook who’s normally quiet and unassuming hovers around them to prevent any more shenanigans. He has his arms crossed over his chest, somehow looking menacing while wearing swimming trunks printed with bright pink bunnies on them, and it must be threatening enough because Jungsik and Dongha don’t try anything further.
Once they’re out of the mansion, Seokjin can finally let the tension out of his shoulders, seeing Jungkook do the same. Jungkook catches his eye and smiles shyly before positively sprinting up the massive staircase.
He passes Yoongi on the way who’s yawning and stretching as he takes each step slowly and it’s clear he really did take that nap.
“Mmm, morning,” Yoongi murmurs as he passes Seokjin, opening the refrigerator and pulling a cold brew out.
“It’s afternoon, and we already talked this morning,” Seokjin points out and Yoongi just shrugs.
“Seems like I missed something exciting,” Yoongi says.
“We had a few… early departures,” Seokjin explains with a smirk and Yoongi nods in approval.
“Thinning the herd, that’s good for the others,” Yoongi notes.
Seokjin’s eyebrows raise toward his hairline. “Not for you though?”
“Well,” Yoongi starts, shrugging, “doesn’t matter either way really.” Even though he’s not looking at Seokjin he must see his perplexed expression out of the corner of his eye because Seokjin’s not trying to hide it.
“So if you’re not interested in winning, why are you here?” Seokjin asks, amused and suspicious.
Yoongi shrugs. “I needed a place to crash for a little while, and you’re not horrible to look at.”
“Well thanks for the overwhelming compliment,” Seokjin deadpans. “Why did you tell me? Aren’t you worried I’ll just get rid of you?”
Yoongi suppresses a laugh. “Please, I’ve spent enough time around some of these other assholes to know I have more staying power than them. At worst, you won’t cut me until episode 8. That’s plenty of time for me to find a place to live in Seoul.”
“So you’re couch surfing in a mansion?” Seokjin reiterates.
“Whatever, the viewers love me,” Yoongi tells him.
“Is that so?”
“Um, yeah? Don’t you read the episode comments?” Yoongi asks.
“I got over reading the comments a long time ago when I found out how unkind people can be when they don’t even know the whole story,” Seokjin mutters a little more bitterly than he intends to.
Yoongi regards him thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. “Well, they seem to like the way I- how should I put this? The way I don’t give a fuck about tolerating these guys that are clearly just here for a handout.”
“You just said you were using it for room and board!” Seokjin almost yells.
“First of all, I don’t expect anything from you. Send me home Friday, whatever, no hard feelings. Plus, I’m going to pay you back,” Yoongi explains calmly.
“Oh, when you have your own mansion, I can crash anytime?” Seokjin asks in disbelief.
“That’s exactly it, you get it,” Yoongi confirms. “Like I said, cut me, it’s fine, it’s all good.”
Seokjin sulks, can’t help himself - it doesn’t feel good to have someone basically turn you down before you even ask.
Yoongi stretches again, heading out of the room but he stops by Seokjin and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, stay out of the comments. You’re right, people are assholes, and you don’t need to see that. But you should know - most people like you. They’re rooting for you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Seokjin dismisses him, even though it does feel better to hear that.
“I’m rooting for you, too,” Yoongi adds, squeezing Seokjin’s shoulder before leaving the room.
~
The producers tell him he needs to start his 1-on-1’s next week, up the tension and the drama, and Seokjin’s not sure where to start. He could go with an elimination strategy, set up dates with all the guys he doesn’t really feel anything with and make it easy to weed them out. Or he could treat himself and start dating the guys he does actually like.
Maybe he should stagger them so he doesn’t have to suffer through a sequence of unpleasantness at one point or another. He’s too tired to think about it but he can’t sleep so he finds himself in the low lit kitchen at 1am struggling to open a jar of kimchi which he pretty much planned on eating right from the container with the fridge open while he stands in the light of the 30 watt bulb.
“Hey.”
Seokjin startles, nearly dropping the jar on the floor and he peeks his head around the door to see Jungkook looking soft in his pajamas. “What are you doing up?”
Jungkook shrugs, teetering on the outskirts of the kitchen like he thinks he needs an invitation to enter. Seokjin isn’t sure what he wants so he goes back to struggling with the kimchi but the lid won’t budge, no matter how many times he tries it.
“Let me help-” Jungkook starts, suddenly at Seokjin’s side and reaching for the offending jar.
“Look, if you’re trying to score points or whatever, it’s not- it’s not going to work.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes the jar.. “Maybe I’m just hungry.” He twists the top off easily, handing it back to Seokjin then he turns to leave the kitchen.
“Wait!” Seokjin feels his cheeks heat when Jungkook faces him again. “I thought you were hungry.”
“You’ve had a long enough day after all that bullshit by the pool, I’m not going to bother you-”
“There’s leftover galbi,” Seokjin interrupts and he can see Jungkook hesitating, eyeing the fridge. “And some fried chicken.”
Jungkook looks torn which isn’t doing a lot for Seokjin’s confidence - first Yoongi, now this guy doesn’t even want to have a midnight snack with him, why the hell is anyone on the show? But he slowly makes his way back into the kitchen.
Seokjin smiles and opens the fridge wider, loading containers into Jungkook’s arms. They settle at the small table against the wall and Seokjin rushes to get chopsticks.
“Thank you Seokjin-ssi, I’m starving,” Jungkook admits with a shy smile. Fuck, he’s cute, cuter close up. Not that Seokjin hasn’t been in relative proximity to him but they haven’t done a 1-on-1 date yet so Seokjin didn’t realize how easy it would be to tumble headlong into Jungkook’s wide, beautiful eyes. “Wait, does this count as a date?” Jungkook looks almost horrified, as if the idea is too alarming to fathom.
Seokjin frowns. “Um, it doesn’t have to be…” he mutters.
Jungkook immediately realizes his mistake. “No no no, it’s not- I just don’t want to blow my 1-on-1 over cold galbi when I’m in my pajamas and I don’t even have any makeup-”
“It doesn’t have to be a date,” Seokjin interrupts, afraid Jungkook’s going to have an aneurysm.
“Okay. I just- I want to impress you when it’s my turn- if you give me a turn!” Jungkook exclaims.
“What makes you think I’m not impressed by your ability to provide me with kimchi?” Seokjin teases, fishing some out of the jar with his chopsticks and offering it to Jungkook.
Jungkook stares for a few seconds, blinks the obvious overwhelm from his eyes, and opens his mouth to let Seokjin feed him. “It’s good.”
“Good. I like a man who can eat,” Seokjin tells him, bringing a rib to his lips.
“Then I’m your guy!” Jungkook jokes, laughing nervously. “I’m crazy about food.”
For a self-proclaimed food enthusiast Jungkook doesn’t look like it. Even in his baggy shirt and sweats Seokjin can see the tone in his arms, the expanse of his chest, and how the material of his pants stretches over his thighs. He could probably bench press Seokjin which, yeah. Hot.
“I used to cook a lot, but-”
“Yeah, I mean, why bother when you can pay someone right?” Jungkook asks around a chicken wing, immediately catching himself and already on the way to apologizing when Seokjin cuts him off.
“I don’t, actually. Pay anyone. I mean, I get takeout most of the time, but it’s kind of pointless to cook - to have someone cook a whole meal when it’s just me,” Seokjin explains.
“I thought you’d be hosting parties on yachts or something most nights anyway,” Jungkook says.
“You have no idea what rich people do, do you?” Seokjin teases and Jungkook blushes. “I mean, I’m sure plenty of them do that all the time, it’s just not me. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good yacht party, but I’m pretty selective about who I let on board.”
“Being selective is what it’s all about, right? I mean, it’ll help you with the show,” Jungkook points out.
“I guess. I don’t really enjoy rejecting people,” Seokjin sighs.
“I think you picked the wrong show, hyung- I mean, fuck. Seokjin-ssi,” Jungkook hurries to amend, utterly embarrassed.
“A little familiar don’t you think?” Seokjin chides jokingly and Jungkook looks like a man who wishes the floor would open up and swallow him.
“I’m really glad this isn't a date because I can’t seem to keep my foot out of my mouth,” Jungkook mumbles and it’s so endearing that Seokjin feels his heart flutter. He snags a piece of chicken to wave under Jungkook’s downturned eyes and Jungkook obediently opens up for it.
Seokjin’s sure he’s already got a rose with his name on it, date be damned.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Seokjin asks. Jungkook looks at him so earnestly and nods like no matter what it is he’ll take it to his grave. “I don’t entirely remember applying to be on this show.”
“What do you mean?” Jungkook manages around a mouthful of food.
“I had just gotten back from one of those infamous yacht parties,” Seokjin jokingly starts and Jungkook scowls. “To be honest, I was feeling a little sorry for myself, coming home to a huge house alone, and I was a bit drunk.”
“A bit?” Jungkook repeats.
“Okay a lot. Next thing I knew, I was getting a phone call from the network about being the next Catch,” Seokjin finishes.
“Why didn’t you back out?”
“I thought about it- I mean I tried to dissuade them, but they were really persistent. Plus… I’m tired of being alone. I know this is a stupid way to try to meet the love of my life or whatever but nothing else has worked so far so I thought - why not?” Seokjin explains. “Anyway once I got here and you all arrived, I kinda freaked out and tried to get out of it again but that’s not something that’s going to happen now.”
“Why’s that? Oh my god, did you already fall in love? Did you decide on someone? I won’t tell, I promise, I know you have to meet the episode requirement or whatever,” Jungkook rushes out excitedly.
“No, no one yet,” Seokjin says, although the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like he has a great candidate right in front of him. “I was not so gently reminded of the stipulations of the contract.”
“Oh?”
“If I call it off, I pay for everything,” Seokjin tells him.
“You pay for everything?” Jungkook seeks to clarify.
“Producing and airing a television show is astronomically expensive, not to mention the tanking of the ratings and an empty time slot that would swiftly become my problem,” Seokjin clarifies.
“Wow, that’s… shitty, honestly,” Jungkook murmurs.
“I’d like to say I’ve done dumber things when I was drunk- well, I have, but this is up there. Top three.”
Jungkook smiles. “What are the other two?”
“Best save something for our date or you might get bored of me,” Seokjin teases as he starts to gather the empty cartons from the table and of course Jungkook rushes to help.
“Doubt that’s possible,” Jungkook comments softly as they deposit the empty tupperware in the sink. They make their way to the curved staircase and walk up in silence side by side. Jungkook stops outside the room he’s sharing with Yoongi. “Goodnight, Seokjin-ssi.”
“Goodnight Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin answers. Jungkook creeps quietly into the darkness of his room and Seokjin, feeling the calmest he has since this whole circus started, heads to bed.
~
Seokjin considers just staying in bed for the day, he considers for the umpteenth time calling the whole thing off even though he just rehashed the repercussions with Jungkook last night. He has the money and even though it would be a hit to his bank account and to his non-existent social life he’d bounce back.
Now though - he thinks of some of the others, like Jungkook, who maybe came here looking for something real and he doesn’t have the heart to just send them all away. The hopefulness in Jungkook’s eyes and hell, even the breezy indifference of Yoongi who just needs a place to stay for a few weeks makes him want to keep it going for the first time.
He gets in the shower and starts his day and while he shampoos his hair he has a vague memory about the producers wanting them to play a game today. It doesn’t end in anyone going home, just gives the winners an advantage or something.
The second he emerges from his room he’s ushered to another for hair and makeup, can’t even get to the kitchen to make coffee. He’s completely zoning out in his chair when he hears a commotion by the door.
“You can’t be in here-”
“I’m just- I know what he looks like without makeup!” Seokjin hears Hoseok slightly snap at the crew.
“Let him in,” Seokjin tells them and he sees Hoseok appear in the reflection on the mirror in front of him.
“Hey. Didn’t see you this morning so I thought I’d bring you this,” Hoseok offers, holding up a coffee and Seokjin swears he can hear angels sing.
“Oh my god you’re a lifesaver,” he all but moans, taking the drink from Hoseok who smiles happily.
“Just remember that when you’re picking teams later.”
“Picking teams?” Seokjin asks after he gulps some of his coffee.
Hoseok cocks his head cutely. “Yeah, for the paintball match?”
It comes back to Seokjin now, that’s the game they’re playing today. “Sure, who do you want?”
“Jungkookie and Taehyungie at least,” Hoseok says immediately, continuing at Seokjin’s raised eyebrow. “I’ve seen them play Overwatch, they crush.”
Seokjin tries not to be hurt by the fact that while he’s hiding in his room or forced to have filmed interactions some of the others get to hang out and play video games. Sounds like this is a pretty fun show to be on when you’re not The Catch. He hides his disappointment with a smile. “As you wish”
~
This is bullshit.
Seokjin doesn’t even get to play paintball, he has to sit unarmed but fully padded near the center of the game field and wait for one team to take him to safety. As if his ass couldn’t just get up and walk there.
It’s not only humiliating but horrendously boring - being a damsel in distress isn’t a role he likes. Plus he wants to shoot stuff too. Instead he sits perched out in the open while ammo whizzes by, people yelling but inevitably ducking back in their hiding spots.
Suddenly he’s being pulled backward off the stool, spun around and tossed over someone’s shoulder.
“Yah- yah! Taehyung-ah what do you think you’re-” Seokjin starts shrieking, words coming out staccato with the way Taehyung is running while carrying him.
“I’m saving you hyung!” Taehyung shouts breathlessly. “Jungkook-ah!”
Jungkook pops out from behind a fallen tree and opens fire, the splat of paintballs exploding on impact rattling in Seokjin’s ears as Taehyung hikes him higher up and keeps running until they get to the embankment.
Once they’re safe behind the ridge Taehyung settles Seokjin gently on the grass, panting hard and Seokjin almost scolds him but he sees the utter glee in Taehyung’s eyes, his smile wide and contagious behind his face shield.
“I saved you,” he says, puffing out his chest.
Seokjin rolls his eyes but can’t seem to suppress his grin. “I didn’t need saving,” he grumbles.
“That was the whole point of the game!” Taehyung yells, swatting Seokjin’s chest playfully.
Seokjin startles when Jungkook dives into the hollow next to them, rolling to a stop and he’s so extra but it’s too endearing to be obnoxious. He army-crawls up to Seokjin, looking him over.
“Were you hit?”
“What? No, I’m fine,” Seokjin dismisses him.
Jungkook laughs, giddy. “We won!”
“Thanks to your cover fire,” Taehyung points out.
Jungkook shakes his head, shy. “It was nothing.”
Seokjin frowns, wondering if he should give them some privacy, but the third-wheel bitterness doesn’t have time to settle in because there’s a loud scream that sounds very much like a distressed bird.
“Hobi-hyung!” Jungkook and Taehyung say in unison, both suddenly looking determined as they check their ammo.
“You’re not going out there,” Seokjin asks in disbelief.
“No man left behind,” Jungkook says, deadly serious.
“He’s the competition!” Seokjin shouts. Unfortunately he wasn't able to pick the teams and Hoseok ended up on the other side. It's kind of hard to feel bad about that now though when he's wondering if he’s the only person here who remembers the point of this show is to end up with him.
“Not today. And I like Hobi-hyung,” Taehyung pouts.
“Yeah, and I can’t figure out the coffee maker,” Jungkook adds.
“Ugh, fine. Go,” Seokjin groans and they nod tersely at each other before scrambling over the ridge. Seokjin laughs breathlessly, going boneless against the embankment but his rest is short lived because someone else is sliding into the hiding spot.
“You made it!” Jongin says, elated. “I knew we’d win.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes because he doesn’t remember seeing Jongin on the field at all. In fact his clothes look pristine, not a drop of sweat on his brow, and his paintball chamber looks near full. Seokjin’s about to point all that out but the bird-like sound is back, closer, and Hoseok is skidding down the hill to tuck in next to Seokjin, his chest heaving.
“Welcome,” Seokjin teases and Hoseok smiles but can’t seem to catch his breath to speak. Jungkook and Taehyung are right behind him, Jungkook checking Hoseok for paint splatter.
“You’re clear, you survived!” Jungkook declares, grinning at Hoseok.
A siren sounds, making Seokjin and Hoseok jump and as it cuts out one of the producers calls out through a bullhorn, “The game is over, Red Team has made the catch.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes so hard at the wordplay - he has nothing against wordplay if it’s good - and as everyone claps, their group stands in the bunker.
“Wave, hyung,” Jungkook insists.
“What? Why would I-”
“They’ll love it,” Taehyung agrees.
“Who’s they?" Seokjin almost shouts.
“Your fans,” Hoseok explains like it’s obvious.
Seokjin ducks his head and gives a weak wave, nearly flinching when the clapping gets louder.
“Hyung, why are your ears so red?”
“Yah, Jungkook-ah…”
~
After his shower, Seokjin’s back in the makeup chair to get ready for his group date - that was the prize for the winning team, a slightly more exclusive dinner with him. He still has no idea how it could be anywhere near intimate, how they can possibly get to know each other when there’s going to be 13 of them and just one of him.
As much as he’s dreading the inevitable awkwardness of the 1-on-1 dates, he knows it’ll be a better opportunity to actually see if any of these men might be…
Seokjin hesitates to say The One. He’s never put stock in the idea that there’s only one person out there for everyone and yet he’s not sure he's ever actually been in love so maybe he has no idea about anything at all.
He feels more nervous than usual, hands shaking as he knots his tie, as he laces his shoes. It feels weird to be this formally dressed in a house he’s living in, the shoes especially, but nothing about this feels normal anymore.
When he comes out of his staging room the cameras are already poised to follow him to the dining room, the long table already crowded with the Red Team. A hush falls over the group and it makes Seokjin’s mouth cotton dry so he quickly swipes a champagne glass from his place setting before even sitting down.
“Please, don’t stop on account of me,” he tells them but it’s too late, all eyes are on him as if he knows what he’s supposed to do next, what to say. He slides into his chair and finishes off his champagne, a few of them staring wide eyed but it’s instantly replaced with a full glass.
He’s saved by dinner arriving on ornate trays not unlike the one the roses will inevitably be ferried on into the ceremony room Friday. Even though he’s not super attached to anyone quite yet the idea of having to send home another round of them nags at him.
On the other hand, he’s still struggling to link the details he does know about them to the correct person so maybe cutting the ranks would be beneficial - unless he accidentally sends Mr. Right home.
At the head of the table he’s sitting next to Jongin and Seongsu, neither of whom he knows very well so it seems like a good time to give it a shot. He turns to Seongsu but he’s already so preoccupied with his dinner that Seokjin shifts to face Jongin.
“So, remind me where you’re from?” Seokjin starts.
~
The dinner is… fine. The food is great but the conversations are surface level and boring, made even more uncomfortable by the weird innuendos at least half of these guys try to slip in. At one point Kyungsoo puts his hand on Seokjin’s thigh and it feels too warm and unwelcome, the commotion he causes sliding his chair back with a screech getting even more unwanted attention.
“Well, this has been… fun,” Seokjin manages as he stands quickly, still feeling the heat of Kyungsoo’s palm. “Lots to think about,” he adds.
The director is frowning, clearly hoping to squeeze another hour at least out of this but Seokjin can’t bring himself to play the game right now. He snatches up two more full champagne flutes and backs out of the dining room with a smile he’s sure looks fake if not downright terrifying.
He manages to escape to the balcony without being followed and he shuts the doors behind him, ducking down out of the way when he sees everyone flooding out of the dining room to look for him.
“You okay?”
Seokjin screams. It’s loud, it’s high pitched, and it lacks any semblance of dignity. He turns to the origin of the question to find Jimin laughing silently - not because he’s trying to be quiet but because he can’t breathe. Seokjin glares, glares harder when Jimin leverages one of the champagne flutes from Seokjin’s hand.
“Are you hiding from someone?” Jimin asks, peering around Seokjin’s shoulder and through the gauzy curtain on the door.
“Only 13 someones,” Seokjin grumbles, taking an abrupt step back when someone approaches the door. Jimin acts fast, shoving Seokjin off to the side and posting up so when the door opens, he’s face to face with Seongsu.
“Hi,” Jimin says casually, sipping the champagne while subtly blocking Seongsu’s ability to step onto the balcony.
“Have you seen him?” Seongsu asks.
“Who?” Jimin responds cluelessly, tilting his head.
“Seokjin,” Seongsu clarifies, clearly annoyed.
“Why are you looking for him?” Jimin poses instead of answering.
Seongsu huffs. “He bailed on dinner.”
“Maybe he wasn’t hungry,” Jimin offers, cloyingly sweet and even though Seokjin can’t see Seongsu he can imagine how annoyed he must be right now.
“Where did you get that champagne?” Seongsu presses, suspicious, and Seokjin can tell he’s trying to come outside but Jimin doesn’t budge.
“Found it on a tray,” Jimin lies cooly, taking another sip, free hand going to his hip.
“Well,” Seongsu grits out, “if you see him-”
“Do what, exactly? Turn him over to you?” Jimin asks incredulously. “Don’t worry, if he wants you he’ll know where to find you.” Seongsu scoffs but doesn’t retaliate and Seokjin hears the doors click closed. “He’s gone.”
Seokjin lets out a sigh of relief so loud it sounds comical and he gets up from where he’s been crouching. “I owe you one.”
Jimin shrugs easily and clinks their glasses together. “You don’t owe me anything - you don’t owe anybody shit.”
“I feel like I’ll probably owe one person something by the end of this,” Seokjin laughs, but it’s hollow, they both hear it.
“How epic would it be though if you sent everyone home?” Jimin ponders with a laugh.
“Great in theory but then I’d still be single,” Seokjin points out.
Jimin hums. “Ah, guess so. As long as you don’t settle, you know?”
“Aren’t I getting to that age where I have to settle?” Seokjin jokes but there’s a bitterness to it.
“Can’t imagine why you’d have to, you do seem like a catch, pardon the pun,” Jimin says.
“The money? The… adjacent fame?” Seokjin mutters.
“The deadly good looks, the wit - look, I’ve been searching for flaws-”
“What?” Seokjin exclaims, faking utter outrage.
“That way if you cut me, I can convince myself it’s your loss, that I dodged a bullet. But so far? Nothing,” Jimin explains with a soft smile.
“You’re a sweet talker,” Seokjin murmurs, glad it’s dark on the balcony because he can feel how hot his face is.
“I’m just a sweet guy,” Jimin corrects, finishing his champagne. He pops the door open quietly and scans the house. “It’s clear if you wanna run for it.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin says earnestly, and Jimin snags him by the elbow as he’s passing, turns him and kisses his cheek.
“Thanks for the drink,” he offers as explanation and Seokjin’s torn because he kind of wants to stay but he knows this is his chance to sneak to his room. He smiles kindly at Jimin before sliding inside and dashing up the stairs, feeling the bubbles from the champagne more acutely in his chest, or maybe it’s something else.