Chapter Text
Baby soap.
That’s Jimin’s first thought when he wakes up, despite the blaring headache bubbling up in the back of his skull.
He smells like baby soap, even after sweating all night, first at the nightclub, then in the sheets. Unbelievable. Jimin probably smells like shit, but the guy doesn’t seem to care at all. Did he even ask his name? He doesn’t remember —-
“Good morning, Jimin-hyung,” the words came, mumbled into his skin with little puffs of warm breath.
So they did introduce themselves. Well, shit. Jimin shouldn’t have drank that last shot. Or the last last shot.
“G’morning,” Jimin musters out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. Or too much use, perhaps. The man nuzzles his nape, inhaling his scent with a delighted sigh, followed by a gentle kiss — okay, that’s enough. Prepared for his usual polite but firm post-one-night stand monologue, Jimin rolls around to face the man, only for the words to get stuck in his throat. Big doe eyes, rosy cheeks, cute smile — holy shit, how on earth did he score a guy like this?
“On a scale of ten, how grossed out are you by morning kisses?” the man of Jimin’s wildest dreams asks, rubbing his nape with a sheepish smile — Christ, he has a full sleeve of tattoos. Jimin hit the fucking jackpot.
Still, his mouth speaks before his brain can catch up. “A solid five or six, depending on what you ate for dinner.”
Stupid.
Jimin wants to bang his head against the wall. The boy, however, just laughs, springing to his feet. Jimin stares at his ass before the cute guy and his even cuter bottom - he has an adorable mole on it that Jimin vividly remembers biting into last night - disappear into a room he assumes to be the bathroom. Jimin stares after him, mesmerized, only snapping out of his spell when the boy’s head peeks out.
“You better not leave!” he points at him with an expression that is meant to be serious, which might’ve worked if it wasn’t for the toothbrush in his mouth. “I make a bangin’ breakfast. You don’t want to miss out,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom again. Jimin snorts, uncharacteristically endeared by the stranger. It only gets worse when the boy starts randomly singing some girl group song Jimin vaguely recognizes. He shakes his head in disbelief, lips curling up helplessly, opting to leave the bed before his stupid heart does something. Jimin grabs a pair of sweatpants he finds neatly folded on a chair to cover his nakedness, unable to find his own clothes, then pads out of the bedroom, convincing himself that he just wants to stretch his legs and definitely not to snoop around.
Jimin halts mid-step, bewildered by the breathtaking view of the Han River from the spacious living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows cover an entire wall, letting the warm afternoon light into the room. His gaze rakes through the tastefully decorated area, the furniture in various shades of gray and beige. It’s clearly a bachelor’s pad and an expensive one of that. How on earth can a guy his age afford this? Holy crap, did he fuck a chaebol ? What kind of club had Taehyung taken him to? No wonder the drinks were so expensive.
He walks into the kitchen next, his fingertips gliding over the marble of the counter in awe, until he stumbles into a high-end coffee machine. He glances around, then opens the drawer above his head, finding a bag of coffee beans. Jimin makes a face, grabbing the packet with a distaste. All this money, and he still can’t choose good coffee. Still, with the throbbing headache threatening to start in the back of his skull, Jimin can’t be picky. He makes quick work of brewing himself a cup, preparing the device for another batch after a second thought. It’s the least he can do if the hot guy he doesn’t even remember the name of is willing to make him breakfast.
As he sips on the painfully mid coffee, Jimin inspects the small trinkets decorating the bookcase, his lips curling into a smile as he sees the boy with a big toothy smile, kneeling beside a chocolate brown puppy. He’s surrounded by people Jimin assumes to be his friends in the next photo —- wait, he knows that face—-
“Who the hell are you?!”
Jimin whirls around, suddenly very much aware of his naked torso as the intruder’s small eyes rake over his naked skin above his glasses with a disapproving frown. He’s older than him, probably around his forties, so he can’t be the cute guy’s father - not to mention, he needed to inherit those genes from someone, and it’s certainly not this dude - but he’s far too old to be a friend.
“Uh,” he blinks, his eyes flickering to the bedroom door in panic. Surely, the boy should’ve been alerted by the yelling, but no, he’s busy singing still .
“You know what? I don’t even care,” the older man waves him off with a frustrated hand move, walking beside him in the bedroom’s direction. “Get the fuck out of here, boy, before I call the lawyers. Groupies can’t stay the night. I tell it to this idiot all the time, but he never listens,” he lifts his hands to the sky with a huff before he disappears through the door. Jimin’s heart sinks as the words register in his brain. Of course, this boy was too good to be true. There’s always something wrong with a man who’s this charming and still single, and the last thing Jimin needs is trouble. Besides, groupies? Since when do these people with the golden spoon up their asses have those? Who the hell do they think they are?
Ugh.
Jimin doesn’t need this. All he wanted was one drama-free night to let off some steam. As the two men’s argument echoes from the bathroom, he spots his shirt on the ground and grabs it, pulling it over his head quickly. He picks up his pants next - thrown over the living room sofa - checks the contents of his pockets, then makes a run for it.
“Wait! Hyung, don’t go!” he hears as he steps into the elevator, catching one last glance at the beautiful stranger before the door closes.
✦
The hangover kicks in by the time Jimin arrives at work. He pushes inside the café, wincing as the bell dings above the door, the sound echoing in his skull.
“You dirty, dirty boy.”
Oh god.
“Don’t you have today off, Tae?” Jimin grumbles, beelining to the coffee machine.
“I do, but you and Jinnie are working,” the brunet says with an exasperated sigh.
“I’m begging you to find new friends.”
“Nope,” Taehyung chirps, sitting on top of the counter next to the coffee machine his friend attempts to turn on. “You’re never getting rid of me.”
Jimin only grunts in response, grinding his teeth in pain as the machine grinds the coffee beans — was it always this loud?
“There you are! I’ve been calling you for hours!”
Speaking of loud.
“Hi, hyung,” Jimin cranes his neck to give his worried friend - and boss - an apologetic smile, “sorry I’m late,” he says earnestly. He didn’t mean to leave Seokjin on his own at rush hour, his hangover brain just couldn’t comprehend the concept of time and space. The pretty boy distracting him surely didn’t help either — “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises.
“You don’t have to make up for anything, stupid. You’re working too much as it is,” Jin rolls his eyes with a sigh that might seem annoyed to the untrained eye, but Jimin knows the blend of concern and fondness all too well to mistake it for anything else. “I was worried because you disappeared in the middle of the night at a freaking nightclub and didn’t even bother to text us!” he raises his voice, threatening the younger with a spatula, “I was about to call the cops and you were busy with what? Getting hickeys?”
Jimin slaps his hand over the sensitive spot on his neck, flushing up to the tip of his ears.
“I think he did more than get hickeys, hyung,” Taehyung interjects, wiggling his brows suggestively. Jimin is going to kill him. He’ll smother him with a pillow at night when he’s the most vulnerable — “So, who was the lucky guy? Girl? Non-binary individual?”
Jimin takes a sip of his coffee, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. Now this is coffee. Not whatever the hell pretty boy was drinking. “I don’t know his name,” he shrugs.
“You spent the entire night and half of the day with him and didn’t even get his name?!” Tae gasps. “Romance is truly dead.”
“I was drunk, okay?” Jimin retorts, fingers combing through his hair distractedly. Those shots truly did a number on him whatever was in them. “Besides, it’s not like I need it. His assistant or manager or whatever rich people have, came in and literally threw me out,” he huffs, still offended by the audacity that dude had. “He called me a groupie and threatened to sue me or something.”
Taehyung and Jin share a look, then look at the other with utter disbelief. “Dude, did you sleep with a celebrity or something?”
“No!”
At least, he doesn’t think so.
“Why are you even asking him? He’s so chronically offline, he wouldn’t recognize a famous person if they were walking on a red carpet right in front of him.”
“Could you postpone dunking on me until I drink my coffee at least?” Jimin groans, raking his hand over his face tiredly.
“I’m just stating the facts,” Jin shrugs.
“Focus, guys!” Taehyung claps with a serious expression — oh god. “Jiminie, what was he like?”
Jimin leans against the counter, contemplating. The memories of last night keep coming back to him in flashes, vague and blurry around the edges. Still, he remembers one thing vividly. “He was —” sweet “awkward, but in an endearing way,” he murmurs, staring into his cup blankly, “he was very shy and got all giggly after a single mojito—”
“I meant his appearance, stupid,” the brunet cuts him off. “Was he tall? Thick thighs? Big dick?”
Jimin’s brain halts with a vinyl scratch. If looks could kill, Taehyung would drop dead right at that moment. “Tall and well built, shoulder length wavy black hair,” he lists, “he had a full sleeve of tattoos and a lip ring,” and also nipple piercings but Jimin decides to keep it to himself for some inexplicable reason, “but, uh, despite all that, he was still adorable. He has these big doe eyes and he scrunches his nose when he laughs, like a bunny,” he explains, features softening as he remembers.
“Holy shit,” Taehyung gapes at him, his eyes wide like saucers. “Did you — did you fuck Jungkook ?”
“As in, nation’s sweetheart, main pop boy, superstar extravaganza Jungkook?” Jin adds with a gasp as if it should be evident by that name alone.
“Who the hell is Jungkook?” Jimin frowns, growing annoyed by now.
“ Who the hell — ” Taehyung echoes in disbelief, his sentence ending with a sigh, the brunet pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically. “Unbelievable,” he murmurs next, typing on his phone furiously before he shovee the device into his friend’s face. “ This is Jungkook.”
“Oh,” Jimin blinks.
“Oh my god, you did fuck a superstar,” Jin yells, lowering his voice once the other shushes him, “I can’t believe you!” he whisper shouts. “We’ve been sneaking into that club to spot celebrities for months, and you sleep with one for the first time!”
"And my favorite band’s main vocalist of all people!” Taehyung sighs. “God has his favorites.”
Oh.
That idol group that his friend has been blasting in their dorm room non-stop is that cute boy?
Jimin is starting to like him less and less.
“First of all, your ‘favorite band’ changes with the weather,” Jimin points out. “Second, how should I’ve known?” he lifts his arms with a huff, “he was just a sweet guy with a nice ass to me.”
“That ass is Korea’s pride!” Taehyung cries out dramatically, ignoring everything else Jimin said for good measure. “You had your nose up the nation’s ass!” Jimin face palms, wishing for the earth to swallow him. “I need all the details, stat.”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Jimin slips into his apron, tying it at the back. The other two erupt in disbelief and dissatisfaction, but Jimin ignores them in favor of serving the customers waiting at the register. How on earth these two keep this café running without him is a mystery. The truth is, they would usually discuss their shenanigans in detail from the previous night, but Jimin feels strangely protective of this one. It’s not like he worries Tae or Jin would sell the information to a tabloid - they are annoying, but also fiercely loyal - but he can’t help but feel a bit sad about how abruptly it ended. Rationally he knows that it couldn’t have ended well for him anyway given Jungkook’s celebrity status, yet he can’t help himself. Why does the guy, who's not only his type, but also wants to make him breakfast, have to be a world-famous superstar? Why couldn’t he be an art major or —- Christ, he would’ve even forgiven him if he was in finance or something. But that’s just Jimin’s luck when it comes to romance —
Never mind. He doesn’t have time for a significant other anyway. Jimin’s life revolves around finishing university and work, and he admittedly puts huge pressure on himself to do his best at both. He must excel at his classes to keep his scholarship given how he doesn’t have the means to pay for his education on his own, and work hard to have some money left by the end of the month he can send home to support his family. In conclusion, a relationship is the last thing he needs right now — but it doesn’t mean he secretly doesn’t yearn for it; if only it wasn’t so hard to find. A partner who understands you, someone you can lean on, someone who makes your life happier, easier, not more difficult — all Jimin stumbles into is drama, and truth be told, he is one curveball away from breaking down. So, no, he’d rather not risk it, definitely not with the nation’s ass, thank you very much. Jimin attempts to focus on keeping his customer service face on instead of the sweet boy with the pretty smile - Jungkook , his name is freaking nation’s pride superstar Jungkook - he left behind.
This will be just a silly anecdote they reminisce about later on, he encourages himself, one of the many ridiculous one night stand stories they share over a drink.
Famous superstar, however, doesn’t seem to share the sentiment.
Jimin doesn’t notice him at first. He comes in wearing a face mask and a bucket hat, essentially covering his entire face. His tattoos are hidden behind a long-sleeved black shirt, other than the letters on his knuckles - it is what gives him away, at least to Jimin. He vaguely remembers making some stupid joke about how he must’ve gotten that in the army or something. Still, if the guy wants to go unnoticed, Jimin is more than happy to play along.
“Psst, hyung.”
Jimin continues wiping down the register, pretending not to hear. Jungkook, however, refuses to get the memo.
“ Jimin-hyung, ” he keeps whispering under his mask.
“Sir, you’ll have to speak up if you want to order, I can’t hear you,” Jimin says in his usual customer voice, not bothering to look up from his task.
Jungkook curses under his nose, glancing around before he leans closer. “It’s me, hyung,” he says a little bit louder now.
“Who?”
The boy groans, leaning even more on the counter. He must be standing on his tippy toes at this point, Jimin notes to himself amusedly.
“You know, the guy from last night,” Jungkook says, not giving up.
“ Guy? What guy?” Jimin keeps up the pretense, just as stubborn, “there were a lot of guys last night.”
Truth be told, he’s starting to suspect there’s a reason he doesn’t remember his name. Jimin usually isn’t this forgetful. It stings a little, that he allowed this boy to drop the honorifics, yet Jungkook probably didn’t even tell him his name.
“The, uhm,” the singer clears his throat awkwardly, “the one you spent the night with,” he lowers his voice again as if sharing a secret. See? Cute. If only it was enough to make the bitter aftertaste go away.
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Jimin shrugs nonchalantly. He has every right to be petty and he sure as hell will make the most of it. He expects Jungkook to finally realize he’s pulling his leg, but the boy seems completely oblivious still.
“You know, the one with, uh,” he places his big hand on top of the older’s, stopping him in his track. Jimin looks up, ready to shoot him a murderous glare but finds his facial muscles relaxing as his gaze locks with Jungkook’s. It’s unfair, how easy it is to get lost in those doe eyes. They distract Jimin from his mission - alas, being bitter as hell - and he doesn’t like it. “The one with the mole on his butt,” Jungkook finishes the sentence with a sheepish smile, his cheeks rosy. A bark of laughter coming from the side snaps Jimin out of his trance, the barista pulling his hand away from the other’s touch as if burned.
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, voice muffled from how hard he’s trying to hold back his laughter with his palm pressed over his mouth. “I’ll take it from here, Jiminie,” he says once he calms down, “go take a break,” he adds with a suggestive wink that prompts his friend to roll his eyes. Jimin stomps out from behind the counter and grabs Jungkook by the sleeve, pulling him aside.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jimin snaps, the other blinking at him from underneath his hat like an innocent puppy. It only annoys the older further, because it’s so damn unfair that he’s so cute . “Besides, how did you even find me? Are you stalking me or something?”
“No, of course not!” Jungkook says, pulling his mask down so he can see his pout — Jimin wants to bang his head against a wall. “I just found you on Instagram and you tagged the place,” he explains. “You should reconsider making your profile private, hyung. It’s very dangerous to tag the location of your workplace on a public account.”
Jimin’s face falls, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Okay, whatever,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “that still doesn’t explain what you are doing here.”
“I wanted to apologize for how my manager treated you,” Jungkook says with such honesty in his eyes it softens Jimin’s heart a bit. “I’m so sorry, Jimin-hyung. I don’t know what bullshit he said to you, but I swear it doesn’t reflect my opinions at all.”
“So what? Groupies do stay the night?” Jimin scoffs, with a bit less edge in his tone now.
“I –” Jungkook bites his lower lip like he was caught in the act, contemplating for a moment before he continues. “You aren’t a groupie.”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not because I didn’t even know who the hell you were until this morning,” Jimin hisses as he stomps back to the register, his anger bubbling back alive. Jungkook follows him like a lost puppy, eyes big and desperate. “Okay, fine,” Jimin sighs, brushing through his messy hair with a jerky move, “you are forgiven or whatever is that you’re expecting here. Just go before someone recognizes you.”
“But—”
“What?” Jimin lifts his hands frustratedly.
“I just want to talk,” the singer blinks innocently.
“Look, last night was nice and all, but I’m on the clock right now,” Jimin says stubbornly, “order a coffee or leave.”
He expects him to give up at this point, but dear lord, this boy is nothing if not persistent.
“I’ll take an iced americano then, please,” he pulls out his wallet - a plush one that reminds him of a bunny tail - holding it with both hands as he waits patiently for Jimin to ring it up. He zips the wallet open, revealing some change, a chapstick, and a single black card. Of course. He’s mega fucking rich, in case Jimin would forget. “Oh, can I get one of those blueberry muffins too?”
“Sure,” Jimin grunts, punching the order into the register. “One iced americano!” he yells to Taehyung who’s manning the coffee machine, before he packs the damn muffin to go, hoping Jungkook will get the fucking memo.
He doesn’t. Of course, he doesn’t.
“So,” Jungkook pulls the pastry out of the bag, munching on the side as Jimin takes the order of a grumpy old lady, “since you’re busy right now, maybe I could take you out after work?” he asks casually.
Jimin leans against the counter, taking a deep sigh. The audacity. Unbelievable. “I tell you to leave several times and what you take from it is that I’d want to go on a date with you?” Jungkook smiles sheepishly, rubbing his nape. The older simply rolls his eyes, plating two croissants mechanically. “Very smooth,” he mumbles under his nose.
“But why not?” the idol presses, brows furrowed into a confused frown. “I thought we hit it off yesterday.”
“Well, you forgot to disclose that you’re a worldwide celebrity with the media watching your every step,” Jimin replies snarkily, “not to mention the groupies .”
“I don’t have groupies,” Jungkook whines. Jimin swears he catches a little stomp too in his peripheral vision. “It’s a complete misunderstanding, hyung. My idiot of a manager assumes it’s a fan whenever I bring anyone home,” he says. “It’s kind of offensive that he thinks that’s the only way a guy would sleep with me, by the way,” the idol adds under his nose with a pout so cute it manages to sway Jimin for a brief moment. Luckily, he comes to his senses before he opens his mouth.
“Boohoo, I’m sorry they hurt your ego, rich boy,” Jimin shuts him down with a scoff, waving him away so the next customer in line can order. Jungkook ducks his head, hiding behind his buckle hat from the three teenage girls at the counter, yet still refuses to leave. Unbelievable. This idiot is ready to risk it all just for a date. Jimin prides himself in his dick game, but he’s certainly not this good, especially drunk. Besides, shouldn’t he be chasing some hot model or something? What the hell does he see in a broke college student?
“I might be —- financially comfortable, but I’m just a normal guy,” Jungkook says defensively. Jimin turns to him, staring at him for a long moment before he laughs right into his face.
“Yeah, sure, buddy,” Jimin says between giggles as if the younger one just cracked the joke of the century. He has to, or else he’ll start a rant about social class differences and he can’t afford to get pissed about capitalism on the clock. Unfortunately, pretty boy superstar cannot take a fucking hint: he stares at him with those big Bambi eyes, all round and filled with confusion. “Look,” Jimin sighs, leaning on the counter. “We had a nice time together, I admit that. But that’s it. We’re living in two entirely different words and it wouldn’t do us any good if we tried to blend them together,” he attempts to make a rational argument.
“Iced americano for butt mole!” Taehyung’s baritone announces before Jungkook could react, raising more than a few eyebrows. Jin lets out a squeaky laugh in the background, clearly finding it amusing. Dear lord, what did Jimin do to deserve this? Both of his friends have the sense of humor of a prepubescent white boy.
“Your order is ready,” Jimin gestures at the pick up station with a meaningful look. Jungkook’s shoulders slump defeatedly. He looks like a kicked puppy as he drags himself to the other side of the counter, leaving the café with his drink in hand.
✦
“One iced americano, please.”
Jimin freezes, his sleepy brain taking a moment to register the voice. He lifts his gaze to make sure his mind isn’t playing tricks with him, a pair of googly eyes blinking at him above a facemask that does nothing to hide the person behind it.
“You? Again?” the barista groans, looking up at the sky as if it could give him salvation.
“I drink coffee every day, yes,” Jungkook replies, seemingly completely oblivious. Jimin is starting to think he’s just pretending.
Jimin shoots him a deathly glare - ineffective by the looks of it - then moves to start the coffee machine.
“Uhm, I’ll drink it here, thank you,” Jungkook’s voice stops him as he reaches for the plastic cups they use for takeaway orders, the two staring at each other for an unbearably long moment: Jimin in disbelief, Jungkook — actually, he has no idea if there’s any thought behind those sleepy eyes at all.
“Are you for real?” he finally musters out, still struggling to tear his gaze away from the boy.
“It’s better for the environment,” Jungkook says cutely with a small nod.
Well, he can’t argue with that. With a sigh, Jimin reaches for a glass, and pours the ice into it while the coffee brews. He pushes the drink in front of the idol and punches the purchase into the register, mumbling the price mechanically.
“Can I leave a tip?”
“No,” Jimin barks automatically.
“Of course, you can,” the correction comes from behind, Jin wrapping his hand around his shoulders to shake him a little. He has this annoying ability to materialize from the depths of the kitchen whenever Jimin isn’t behaving very guest-friendly. “You can find the tip jar there,” he motions to the little glass jar on the counter. Jimin deflates, mentally reminding himself that the tips are equally shared between all three of them and isn’t a matter of pride. His bruised ego still stings as the idol puts thirty thousand won into the little jar, anger bubbling up inside him. What the hell is he thinking? That supporting small businesses is the way to Jimin’s heart?
“Thank you, Jungkook-ssi,” Jin smiles at the idol politely, “enjoy your coffee,” he adds before slipping back to the kitchen with one last warning look at the younger. Jimin waits for the door to close, then turns to the younger with a suspicious gaze.
“What are you here for exactly?” he demands answers, “and don’t say it’s because of the coffee.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen, a rosy blush creeping up his cheeks. God, Jimin hates how much he wants to pinch them.
“Okay,” the idol lowers his glass to the counter, not even hesitating when he says, “I’m here for you. I really like you and I’m pretty sure it’s reciprocated, you’re just thrown off by this whole famous celebrity thing,” he explains in one breath, “which is fair, don’t get me wrong,” he adds quickly, “but I hope if we spend some time together, you’ll see that I’m not so different from anyone else.”
Jimin stares at him, his expression softening along with his heart. It’s difficult to stay mad at someone who’s so genuine.
“Why are you so sure it will work?” he inquires, his tone gentler this time.
“I’m not,” Jungkook says with a calm smile, “but at least I tried.”
Jimin sighs. Loudly and dramatically.
“Don’t you have better things to do?”
“Not really,” Jungkook shrugs. “I just finished promotions, so I’m on a break right now.”
“Fine,” he huffs, “have it your way.” If he wants to sit in silence and watch him work, so be it. Jimin doesn’t care. What he does care about though, he soon realizes, is that the risk of the idol getting recognized - and possibly mobbed - by teenage girls is growing with every second he spends here. He didn’t even bring a bodyguard with himself, for fuck’s sake. What an idiot. Still, it’s not bothering him because he cares about Jungkook, no, he’s just a decent human being. Besides, he doesn’t want the café to become some kind of idol memorial site. Seokjin probably wouldn’t be against it, considering the additional revenue, but Jimin isn’t a fan of working more. Call him pessimistic, but he has a hunch that the people who come here only to take pictures of where some dorky guy sat wouldn’t be good tippers.
“Can I have another one of those blueberry muffins, please?” the idol’s sweet voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Jimin squints at him, weighing his choices for a long moment. There’s only one solution, he realizes begrudgingly.
“Get in here,” Jimin motions to the employee area vaguely. Jungkook blinks, all wide-eyed, but obliges without a question. Dear lord, how is this guy even alive? He looks ridiculous balancing on top of that tiny stool they hid behind the counter for those brief moments they can sit down, eating his blueberry muffin - free of charge, solely to make the barista feel better about the huge tip they got - with a concentrated frown on his face. Jimin sighs, then takes off his baseball cap to put it on top of the younger’s fluffy head, hoping it might help conceal his identity. Jungkook smiles at him cutely, cheeks full of pastry. Jimin tears his gaze away, busying himself with refilling the milk cartons in the fridge, trying to ignore how the protective shield around his heart keeps cracking.
✦
Jimin isn’t surprised when he finds Jungkook at the café by the time he arrives at work. What does baffle him is that he’s giggling with Taehyung at something playing on his phone screen, the two almost sitting on top of each other as they try to fit in the small loveseat in a cozy nook. It makes Jimin’s blood boil for some inexplicable reason. He drops his backpack on the ground with a loud thud, the laughter dying down behind his back as he slips into his apron.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Grumpy,” Taehyung greets him with a teasing tint in his voice.
“Hi, hyung,” Jungkook’s voice follows with his usual enthusiasm. It’s kinda cute, how excited he gets whenever they meet, he’s not going to lie - at least to himself. Jimin would never say it out loud.
Jimin only grunts as an answer and goes to wash his hands, mentally preparing himself to deal with the customers after the back to back classes he dragged himself through today. Every muscle, every joint in his body aches, the lack of rest slowly catching up to him. Still, he needs to push through it, no matter how exhausting it is to juggle work, classes, and the showcase he and his dance team are preparing for. The last weeks counting up to the premiere are always the worst and Jimin’s perfectionism when it comes to dancing only amplifies it.
“Don’t worry, Jungkook-ah, Jiminie always gets like this when he’s stressed,” Tae tries to comfort the idol, making Jimin’s eyes twitch in annoyance.
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes out, thoughtful, “why are you stressed, hyung?”
“He has this big showcase with his dance crew in a few weeks,” the brunet explains, although the question wasn’t addressed to him, “he’s nervous, even though he has nothing to worry about.” Jimin knows the last part was meant for him mostly, but right now, it only frustrates him further.
“Showcase?” Jungkook says with wonder, as if he wasn’t performing for hundreds of thousands of people regularly, “what showcase?”
“Oh, you don’t know? Jiminie is a dancer.”
“Really?” the idol gasps excitedly, “that’s so cool, hyung! I love dancing too!” he says. Jimin knows. He caved in and looked Jungkook up online, and what he saw left him with his jaw on the ground. Jungkook isn’t only a good singer, but he is also a brilliant performer with crazy dancing skills. Seeing that didn’t do anything good for his already wavering self-confidence. Don’t get him wrong, Jimin doesn’t want to compare his silly hobby to the skills of a professional. He knows better now. Jimin had enough doors shut in his face to know that he isn’t that good; no, he just dreamt big. It feels silly now, looking back at how much time, money, and energy he’d spent on auditioning and trying to get signed, including a desperate attempt to make it in Hollywood. He was hard-working and passionate, and sure, maybe even somewhat talented, but it’s simply not enough to make it in the industry. All it had landed him was an occasional backup dancer gig here and there.
So, in conclusion, he’s far from being a dancer. He is just an implied economics major with a side hobby that happens to be dancing.
“No, I’m not,” Jimin hisses at his friend, hoping he gets the memo. Taehyung, however, just babbles along enthusiastically.
”Yeah, and he also sings—”
“That’s enough,” Jimin interjects, shooting a warning glare at his over-enthusiastic friend. Tae blinks, then smiles at him apologetically.
Now singing, is a whole other can of worms Jimin would rather not touch with a five foot pole. While it was mostly unanimously agreed that he is a somewhat okay dancer, his singing voice was much more polarizing. Some liked it, saying he has potential, while others hated it with a burning passion, saying he wouldn’t stand a chance in the music industry. Jimin tried to ignore the negative comments for a long time, but after all the failure, he ought to admit that maybe, they were right.
Of course, his friends tried to talk him out of it, especially Tae, who’s always adored his singing voice. However, Jimin has had enough. Hollywood was his last resort after trying and failing to get signed by a Korean company for so long, and it was fruitless. He promised to himself and his family that if it didn’t work out, he’d do what his parents always wanted him to do: get a good degree and have a nice, secure office job.
“I’d love to see you dance sometime,” Jungkook adds with good intentions, unaware of the other’s insecurities. Jimin only hums, pretending to be busy with adjusting the pastries in the display cabinet. He hopes the younger lets it go, not pushing any further. He knows he is being unreasonably cold and mean. Jungkook is just trying to be nice. If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t mind, but it’s not just a regular guy. It’s a freaking pop star. A highly trained dancer who will notice all of his mistakes, all the things he’s lacking. Now, don’t get him wrong, Jimin isn’t against constructive criticism - he wouldn’t have been a performing arts major without thick skin (although, the fact that he dropped out probably undermines that statement) - but right now, he feels way too raw and vulnerable for it.
He wasted years of his life and what has he got in return? He’s still a nobody. No connections, no money — just broken dreams.
“I need some air,” Jimin chokes out, storming out through the backdoor. He hears someone calling his name, but the ringing in his ear makes it impossible to register whose voice it is. Jimin sits down at the designated smoking area, staring at the playground on the other side of the road blankly as he fights the tears.
“Jimin-hyung! There you are,” Jungkook jogs to him, hesitating briefly due to the lack of reaction before sitting down next to him. “I’m sorry if I did something to upset you. I didn’t mean to,” he says quietly, tattooed fingers tugging on the hem of his oversized shirt nervously.
Jimin takes a shaky breath, wiping his face. “You didn’t,” he mumbles, “it’s just—” a sigh, “never mind.”
Silence settles upon them, the joyful sounds of the playground filling the heavy air. Jimin doesn’t know what to say - if he even wants to say anything - and Jungkook isn’t keen on pushing.
“Tae was just exaggerating. It’s not even a showcase,” he says quietly, eyes downcast. “It’s just — there’s this dance studio I frequent and they have an annual — thing , where they ask some students to perform. It’s not a big deal, mostly just a chance to invite your friends and family and to shoot some promotional videos.”
“I had a feeling you were too good at the club to be a casual dancer,” Jungkook concludes, a smile evident in his voice. Jimin only grunts, his face burning.
They sit in silence for a long moment before the idol speaks again.
“You know, there’s no shame in performance nerves. I have it all the time.”
“I don’t think it’s fair to compare my stupid showcase to your comebacks,” he ends up saying, pulling his knees to his chest, his eyes still stuck on the other side of the road, not looking at the younger.
“So it is a showcase.”
Jimin glares at the idol, who only grins back, unfazed.
“Okay, all jokes aside,” Jungkook says, conveniently leaning against Jimin as he laughs. “Being chosen to perform as the face of the dance crew is pretty huge. I know how cut-throat the dance field is. You must be really good, hyung,” he continues. “Besides, I don’t think it matters how big or serious the crowd is, hyung. A performance is a performance. I was just as nervous and obsessing over the slightest mistake when we performed for ten people with the band as I am now. And —” he pauses with a soft, awkward chuckle, “I might have not been in your position, but we’re both humans, so the feeling can’t be that different, right?”
Jimin turns to him, looking into those bright eyes, so genuine, so hopeful. “Right,” he replies quietly, struggling to tear his gaze away. Maybe Jungkook is right. Maybe they aren’t so foreign to each other—
Suddenly, the idol stiffens, turning his head towards the paywalk. Jimin’s gaze follows, his stomach dropping as he sees two girls with their phone cameras directed at them. They whisper and giggle between themselves as if they were watching some of K-drama.
“Shit,” Jungkook curses under his breath, springing to his feet. “I should go before—” he glances at the girls nervously, “I should go. Sorry, hyung,” he says, before slipping away through the backdoor, avoiding the girls.
Jimin stares after him, a conflicting blend of emotions wreaking havoc in his heart. He snaps out of it when he realizes the girls are still filming - him - so he shoots them a warning glare as he says, “this is private property. You can’t film here.” He’s lying out of his ass, but the confidence he says it with seems to persuade the fans, the two of them quickly skirting away from the scene of crime.
Jimin rubs his face with a tired sigh, mentally preparing himself for whatever hell they just unleashed.
Still, nothing could’ve accoutered him to the absolute chaos waiting for him in the morning. Jimin scored the opening shift in a game of rock-paper-scissors he was doomed to fail at - Jimin has never been good at games - but he tried to look at its bright side: surely, no crazy fans would bother him at six in the morning, right?
Right?
How naive of him.
There’s a line down to the next block, a bunch of them wearing what Jimin assumes to be Jungkook’s merch; some are wearing bunny ears, which confuses him to the point he contemplates asking Taehyung about it, but his stubbornness wins over his curiosity.
“Excuse me,” Jimin pushes to the locked door through the crowd, shooting a warning look at a boy coming too close for his comfort. The boy has the decency to apologize at least, lowering his gaze like a child caught misbehaving — he is indeed a child, Jimin realizes; he can’t be more than sixteen. What the hell are kids doing here? Shouldn’t they be sleeping? Or at least, getting ready for school? Can he call the cops on children for not attending school? Okay, that might be a reach.
Jimin shuts the blinds once he’s inside, not in the mood to prepare for his workday with an audience — then Taehyung comes in.
One thing about his dear best friend is that, unlike Jimin, he loves attention. Maybe he should be the one dating an idol —- wait, no. They aren’t dating, that’s a stupid comparison.
Anyway.
Taehyung opens the doors for the fans, inviting them in like a true showman. They immediately circle him like a swarm of bees around a flower, although the brunet has the decency to decline any Jungkook-related question. He politely recommends them to try out their cheesecake instead and slips away, grinning ear to ear as the fans whine and beg him for details.
Jimin wishes he could handle them with such grace. But all he manages to do is huff and puff when they ask him stupid, invasive questions - thankfully only about Jungkook, not himself; looks like those girls from yesterday had the decency to blur his face at least.
“Cheer up, Jiminie! The business is booming! Isn’t that great?” Tae tries to console him, but all his efforts gain is another scowl because surely, the ‘business’ isn’t what Taehyung is so hyped about. Jin, on the other hand, certainly is. He has a big grin on his face despite the early morning, asking Jimin for Jungkook’s address so he can send him a thank you note and a fruit basket. Jimin considers dousing him in the almond milk he has on hand, but after counting to ten, he decides to just say no. It’s his boss, after all, no matter how annoying he is.
At least, he won’t have to deal with Jungkook anymore, he tries to look on the positive side, but for some reason, it doesn’t console him at all. Jimin pushes away the strange empty feeling he gets upon the notion of not seeing the idol again, too overwhelmed to deal with it.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to. Jungkook makes sure of it.
“Psst, hyung,” the muffled voice comes as he takes out the trash, making him jump. Jimin whirls around, ready to fight whatever thug is hiding in their alley. However, instead of a hooligan, he’s met with a pair of boba eyes, blinking at him innocently.
“Jungkook? What the—” Jimin sighs, raking over his hand. “What are you doing here? Your fans are swarming the place, you could get mobbed!” he whisper yells, glancing around worriedly.
“I needed to talk to you,” Jungkook whispers back, stepping closer. He still smells like baby soap, Jimin’s brain decides to provide, his heartbeat picking up. It confuses the hell out of him. “I’m so sorry for the insanity. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” the idol says; half of his face is covered by a black facemask, but Jimin is certain he’s pouting.
“It’s not your fault,” the older replies with a soft sigh, eyeing the puppy eyed boy with a strange clench in his chest. “But Jungkook-ah, you really shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.”
“I know, but—” Jungkook’s gaze lowers to the ground, shifting on his heels awkwardly. “It’s the only way I can reach you.”
Jimin exhales, observing the idol as his heart and brain clash in a tumultuous fight.
His heart wins.
“Give me your phone,” he asks with his palm open. Jungkook does without hesitation. He even unlocks it, looking at the older expectantly. Jimin gives him a curious look, not expecting the younger to trust him blindly, then punches his phone number into the device. “Here,” he gives it back. “Now you don’t need to risk your life to talk to me.”
“It’s kinda romantic though, isn’t it?” Jungkook pockets his phone, his eyes scrunching up above the mask cheekily. Jimin rolls his eyes, then goes back inside, his lips curling up helplessly.
✦
Annoying 8:58PM:
let me take u out
pls pls pls
btw u looked cute today
anyway
dinner
u and me
pls pls pls pls
Jimin stares at his screen with a blend of disbelief and endearment, finding it difficult to believe it’s really a worldwide famous superstar begging him for a chance. The insanity of it all is finally hitting him after what he witnessed at the café, and he isn’t sure how to feel about it.
“You better not leave that boy on read!” the familiar baritone of his friend pulls him out of his thoughts, almost making him jump.
“How do you even know he texted me?” Jimin frowns as the other portions out their takeout dinner.
“We’ve been texting all week,” Tae explains, sitting down next to him on the sofa and digging into his noodles. “I gave him my number so we could send each other memes,” he mumbles, mouth full.
Of course.
Jimin sighs, picking up his chopsticks.
“Yah! Text him back!”
The dancer blinks, slurping up the noodles he just picked up as the other looks at him disapprovingly.
“Damn, okay. I will,” Jimin chuckles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “why are you so invested in this anyway? You clearly don’t need me to become buddies,” he points out.
“Because I want the best for you, duh,” Taehyung huffs, looking like a chipmunk with his cheeks stuffed.
“Just because he’s in your favorite band, doesn’t mean he’s the best for me,” Jimin replies, picking at his meal.
“Come on, Chim! That’s not the reason I said that, and deep down you know it too,” the brunet rolls his eyes, “he’s totally your type: a sweet, goofy hunk of meat you can climb like a tree — ow, yah, don’t hit me!” Taehyung falls flat on the couch dramatically, as if Jimin hit him with a rock, not a decorative pillow. “You can’t suppress the truth with violence, Park Jimin!”
Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter, leaning against his friend who giggles along with him.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says with a sigh once they quiet down, resting his head on his friend’s shoulder. Taehyung offers a bite of his noodles, which he takes gladly before stuffing his own mouth with food too.
“I’m right most of the time, you’re just too proud to admit it,” Taehyung banters, yelping dramatically when he receives a playful pinch on the thigh for it.
“Okay, Mr. Know It All, please enlighten me with your boundless wisdom,” Jimin lifts his arms dramatically, “what am I supposed to do with the teeny tiny problem that he’s super famous?”
“So he’s not only hot but also successful. Oh, poor you,” Taehyung deadpans.
Jimin huffs, sitting up straight just to stick his tongue out on his friend, his antics earning him a sassy eye roll.
“Look, I don’t mind, it’s great that he’s so successful. It’s just —” he sighs, frustration evident in his tone, “It’s scary, okay? The crazy fans and all that media attention — I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with that on top of everything else,” he admits. “What if we start to date and they find out about it? Can you imagine? People can be so damn cruel, there’s no way they wouldn’t try to paint me as some gold digger or something just for a good headline. And don’t even get me started on the crazy fans.”
“Oh, bub,” Taehyung pulls him into a side hug, pressing a soft kiss into his hair. Jimin relaxes in his friend’s hold, holding onto his arm. “Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?” he asks, treading carefully.
Jimin presses his cheek against his friend’s fluffy sweater, contemplating. He tries to dissect the tight ball of feelings in his chest — Jimin takes a shaky breath and nods in agreement. He isn’t ready to untangle it just yet.
“Okay. Alright then,” Taehyung exhales. He knows Jimin is lying, they both do. Tae might push him a lot, but he knows his limits. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but you can’t focus only on the negatives, Jiminie,” he says gently. “He’s a sweet guy who is head over heels for you. I mean, he literally risked his safety just to be around you,” he continues, pausing to giggle at Jimin’s embarrassed groan. “What? It’s true! Anyway, my point is that it’s so rare to find guys like him. Give him a chance to prove himself at least, before you give up on him over all the potential obstacles that could come up.”
Jimin exhales slowly, letting the words sink in. “I hate when you’re right,” he mumbles, cracking a smile when the brunet huffs in mock offense. He indeed has a habit of finding the problem in everything - an occupation habit you develop when you’re always the one to fix everything. Still, is it really how he wants to live his life? He pulls his phone out, lingering on the idol’s message for a moment before he starts typing.
Me 9:36PM:
let’s talk
tomorrow
JUST talk
it’s not a date
✦
Jungkook didn’t get the memo.
He waits for Jimin with a single red rose at the back entrance of the private dance studio his label owns - he insisted on picking Jimin up at the café, but the latter refused for safety reasons - handing it to him with a sweet, boyish smile. It’s a bit wilted by the time he arrives, the idol sheepishly explaining that it’s been here since the morning and he forgot to put it into water, too busy with dance practice.
Jimin can’t help but find it endearing.
“I know roses are a bit cliché,” he says, stepping a little closer with his hands tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants, “but I’ll get you something much prettier for our first real date, I promise.”
“I didn’t even agree to the date yet,” Jimin mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat up as he stares at the flower.
“ Yet ,” Jungkook parrots with a wide grin. Jimin rolls his eyes, although smiling.
“Alright, let’s just talk,” he says. “Should we—“ he motions to the floor, the younger planting himself down with his legs crossed. Jimin joins him, pulling his knees to his chest, struggling for a moment to put his thoughts into coherent sentences. He looks at Jungkook, who’s waiting for him to speak patiently like a puppy. Strangely, it eases Jimin’s mind.
“One date,” he blurts out, the younger’s eyes widening. “Let’s go on a date and we’ll —- we’ll see, okay? No promises.”
Jimin thinks it’s a generous offer. He expects the idol to do a somersault in excitement.
Jungkook, however, isn’t satisfied.
“One?” he pouts, “that’s not enough. I’ll need at least five.”
Jimin blinks.
“Excuse me?”
“Four?”
“This is not up to debate—-“
“Three? Pretty please?” Jungkook looks at him with those big Bambi eyes, throwing a pout into the mix to drive it home.
Jimin groans, looking up at the ceiling as if it could give him any guidance. Unfortunately, nothing comes, not even a spare lightning to end him along with his dilemma.
“Fine,” he gives in, helpless to the idol’s puppy eyes. It’s unfair, really, how effective those are. A weapon of mass destruction. He should be obliged to cover them.
“Yes!” Jungkook springs onto his feet, punching the air, eliciting a fond laugh. What can Jimin say? He is cute. “Can I show you the choreo I’m practicing?” The idol asks, reminiscent of a little puppy.
“Are you trying to impress me or something? Jimin’s brow lifts amusedly. “Because if you are, there’s no need. I’m pretty sure there are hundreds of videos of you dancing online already. I’m already impressed.”
“Yeah,” the idol shrugs with a cheeky smile, “but it’s the coolest one so far. I want you to see,” he explains, galloping to the stereo like an anime girl. Jimin’s chest feels strangely warm as he watches the boy dance, his moves just as smooth and clean as they were in the performances he saw. Jungkook, however, isn’t satisfied judging by the frown on his features — how can someone frown prettily? Unbelievable. “I can never pull off this damn move,” he repeats the tricky foot work from the middle, huffing when he doesn’t get it right. “Argh, what am I doing wrong?” Jungkook says to the sky - ceiling - dramatically. Jimin assumes it’s a poetic question, but then the idol turns to him with a whiny little ‘hyung’.
“Huh?”
“Help please?”
Jimin bites his lip, holding himself back from giving unsolicited advice, the dancer in him demanding to come out. Surely, someone like Jungkook, who probably has a dozen of skilled dance instructors and choreographers at his fingertips, doesn’t need his help - he tells it to the idol exactly as it is, but the latter isn’t swayed.
“Well, they aren’t here right now,” Jungkook’s lower lip juts out, blinking at him cutely. Jimin lets out a disbelieving chuckle, then stands up. He has a feeling it’s just a clumsy attempt to get closer to him, but he’ll entertain it for now. They’re going on a date anyway — three dates. Oh boy, what had he gotten himself into?
“First of all, bend your knee,” he taps the back of the idol’s leg, “you’re going to get a shin splint if you keep doing it like this,” he says to give some actually useful advice. Jungkook could easily work the actual steps out on his own if he put his head into it. He has the skill and talent for it. Still, Jimin would never decline a chance to dance. “Show it to me again?” he asks the idol, who does, bending his knees this time obediently. Jimin follows along, quickly learning the steps. It’s quite fun to dance with Jungkook, so much that he almost forgets why they are dancing in the first place. “Your torso is too stiff,” Jimin points out, “that is what’s throwing you off.” Jungkook furrows his brows, repeating the motions again. “No, look,” Jimin steps behind him, switching to instructor mode as he gently puts his hands on the idol’s hips. “All of the tension is here,” he says, “when it should be here,” his hand slips to Jungkook’s abs. He only realizes how precarious their position is when he spots the blush on the idol’s cheeks.
“Am I interrupting something?”
They jump apart in panic, both turning around to face the intruder.
“Holy shit,” Jimin gasps in shock, his eyes widening. “You’re j-hope! ”
“Uh,” the man’s eyes slip to Jungkook questioningly, clearly confused.
“Hyung!” Jungkook’s tone goes up a hitch. “Sorry, I totally forgot about our practice,” he says sheepishly. “Let me introduce you to my —- uh, friend , Jimin.”
“Oh,” Hoseok smiles knowingly, though Jimin is too starstruck to notice. “Hi, Jimin-ssi, it’s nice to meet you,” he offers his hand, Jimin shaking it with enthusiasm.
“I don’t want to make it weird, but you’re like my hero,” Jimin blurts out before he can stop himself, but can you blame him? J-hope is one of the few street dancers who’s carved out a space for himself in the public consciousness by sheer will power and so much talent it’s honestly infuriating. Jimin has been following his career ever since he was a teenager. His success is what gave him the confidence to pursue his dreams. He tells the dancer so with a blush on his cheeks, smiling bashfully when j-hope thanks him for his kind words.
“That’s the best feedback an artist could get,” j-hope smiles back, Jimin staring at him with stars in his eyes. “Hey, we should dance together sometimes. I’d love to see your moves,” he offers.
Before Jimin could answer, Jungkook stands between them. “Yeah, we should all dance,” he says, “together.”
Jimin looks at the idol weirdly, utterly confused. He looks at the other dancer for help, whose eyes flicker between the two of them for a moment, then his lips stretch into an amused grin, downcasting his eyes to politely hide it.
“Alright, Kook-ah,” he pats the youngest on the back gently, like you’d do to a child, “I’m sure we’ll find a time that works for all of us,” he says, “what about this Friday, hm?”
“Sorry, we can’t,” the idol replies before Jimin could even blink, “we have a date that day.”
“We do?” Jimin asks incredulously.
“Yes,” Jungkook says with a stubborn pout, “ all day .”
“Don’t push it,” Jimin retorts, turning to the other dancer. “I’m sure we can find some time, Hoseok-ssi. It would be an honor.”
“O-okay,” Hoseok says, eyeing the idol carefully before he focuses on Jimin, his expression relaxing into a soft smile. Never meet your heroes, they say; they’ll disappoint you. Well, jokes on them, because Hoseok is just as lovely as he imagined him to be. “Maybe another time then. I’ll text Jungkook-ah about it, m’kay?” he says, Jimin nodding eagerly. “And no need for honorifics. Call me Hobi-hyung. Jungkookie’s uhm, friend is my friend too,” he adds, biting back a smile when the youngest shoots him a glare that was meant to be threatening. He still looked like a puppy to Jimin, just attempting to growl this time. Hobi politely ignores the idol’s antics, and says goodbye, leaving the two of them alone again.
Jungkook drops onto the ground with a groan, looking like a starfish out of the water.
“What now?” Jimin eyes him with his hands on his hips, equally endeared and amused. He’s a needy brat but somehow he makes it cute.
“I can’t believe I was defeated by Hobi-hyung,” the idol whines, covering his face with his hands. “I knew I couldn’t let you meet my hyungs before you’re head over heels in love with me,” he mutters, making a small, child-like kick with his foot. “They are too cool, I can’t risk it. You won’t meet Yoongi-hyung until we’re engaged at least.”
Jimin gasps, too distracted by the name drop to be scandalized by their imaginary betrothal. “Yoongi as in Min Yoongi? ”
“You know him too?!” Jungkook lifts his head, a wounded expression on his face.” But not me ?! I see,” his head drops with a dramatic sigh. “Unbelievable. My own bandmate. I never stood a chance.”
Jimin bites back a laugh, sitting down on the floor next to the younger, cross legged. “He’s Taehyungie’s celebrity crush. It’s impossible for me to not know about him, he’s all he talks about,” he explains with a teasing smile. “Why do you think we were in that fancy club in the first place?”
“Yoongi-hyung doesn’t do clubs,” Jungkook mumbles, the pout evident in his voice. Jimin’s brow lifts, amused. “He’s too busy sulking over his on again, off again relationship. They’ve known each other for thirteen years and still can’t admit that they’re in love. Embarrassing.”
Jimin hums, keeping his expression serious despite the smile threatening to bloom on his lips. “I guess we won’t be going to the club then.”
“Good,” the idol nods, still staring at the ceiling stubbornly. Jimin is so endeared he surprises even himself. Usually, this possessiveness would appall him, but when it comes to Jungkook, even his jealousy is so pure and genuine. No one has ever liked him this much, especially not such a successful, amazing young man who could have anyone he wanted. Perhaps, Jungkook sees something in him that he himself fails to.
“You big baby,” Jimin teases fondly. “Come on, stop pouting. I’ll teach you a fun choreo I’ve been working on,” he grabs Jungkook’s hand, tugging on it before he could protest. “I changed my mind by the way. This counts as our first date out of the three.”
“What? No, hyung ,” the whiny response comes immediately.
✦
“Okay, almost there.”
“Ow.”
“Careful, stairs.”
“You don’t say.”
“Sorry,” Jungkook gives his waist an apologetic squeeze. “A few more steps.”
Jimin hears a door creek, sunshine seeping in under the sleeping mask the idol asked him to put on. Jungkook took it into his hands to organize the details of their first - second - date and refused to tell Jimin a single detail. He wanted it to be a surprise. Honestly, Jimin doesn’t like surprises, but the idol was so adorably enthusiastic, he didn’t have the heart to ruin it for him. That’s how he ended up blindfolded on his way to the location.
“A-and, we’re here,” Jungkook stops him, carefully pulling the sleeping mask off him so as to not mess up his hair, silently acknowledging he indeed spent a lot of time on styling it. Jimin squints, trying to get adjusted to the brightness, struggling to take in the scenery at first, but when he does, his jaw is on the ground. The rooftop terrace is breathtakingly beautiful with its lush greenery, the golden lights of the descending sun illuminating it all. He spots a plush blanket with a picnic basket and a wine bottle cooler in one corner under a tree, giving a perfect view to the cityscape. “Do you like it?” Jungkook asks shyly, his cheeks rosy.
“Yeah, it’s — it’s beautiful,” Jimin says earnestly, eyeing the younger with a soft look.
“It’s one of my label’s buildings. I cashed in a favor and they closed it down just for us, so no one will bother us. We’re safe,” Jungkook says, puffing his chest proudly.
Despite the initial secrecy, Jungkook let it slip that he wants it to make sure no one will bother them during their date. Given the small details, Jimin assumed they would end up in some fancy restaurant, reserved just for the two of them. He wouldn’t say he was excited about the premise of fancy finger food that will leave him hungry, but he understood that their choices are sparse if they want to keep their date private.
And they do. They both agreed on that. While Jungkook is out and proud, he - and his company - would like to keep his personal life what it’s supposed to be - private . He warned Jimin about it prior to their date, and the older one was completely on board with. He likes his boring life as it is, thank you very much.
“Thank you, Jungkookie,” he leans in to press a soft kiss on the idol’s cheek, leaving behind a rosy hue, “I love it.”
“O-okay, uhm,” Jungkook clears his throat, clearly flustered. “Shall we?” he motions to the blanket. They take a seat, admiring the view for a moment before Jimin reaches for the bottle in the cooler.
The choice of drink - champagne - makes his eyebrows rise, the singer is only reacting with a sheepish smile.
“It suits the food better,” Jungkook explains, pulling some chocolate covered strawberries out of the basket. Jimin rolls his eyes fondly, mumbling a teasing ‘corny’ under his breath before he opens the bottle, pouring both of them a drink. The main course happened to be pizza, deliciously fresh and warm. The pair indulge in the delicacies as they watch the sun settle, the string lights decorating the trees automatically switching on to accompany the stars in the sky. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. Jimin feels like he’s in a romantic movie. He hates to admit - even to himself - how much he enjoys it.
“Here, try it,” Jungkook offers him a strawberry, lifting it to his mouth with a rosy tinge on his cheeks. Jimin decides to entertain him, his lips brushing the idol’s fingers as he takes a bite. Jungkook’s eyes follow the movement, eyes stuck on his mouth shamelessly as he licks his own lips.
“Hm, tasty,” Jimin hums with a playful glint in his eyes, “want a bite?” he leans closer suggestively, the idol gulping audibly before he nods. Jimin grins, pushing a strawberry against his lips, giggling as Jungkook eats it with a huffy pout.
With their bellies full, they lie down on the soft blanket, their arms almost touching. They enjoy the soft fall breeze, admiring the sky in comfortable silence. Jimin feels something brush against his pinky finger, lips curling into a smile when he realizes it’s Jungkook’s.
It’s perfect.
Everything is perfect when it’s just the two of them. They joke around, take selcas, and just have fun - like two regular young boys.
If only it could always be this way.
Jimin exhales, brushing the thought away. He doesn’t want to think about what happens when the bubble bursts. No, he promised to give this relationship a chance. How is he supposed to know if the positives outweigh the negatives if he doesn’t even give the former a chance to shine? He can’t project his negative experience with show business on the idol. Jungkook is more than his job and Jimin is eager to find out more about him.
“Jungkook-ah?”
The younger reacts with a questioning hum, rolling onto his side to look at him. He looks like a little puppy, all sweet and bright eyed. Jimin smiles, his heart soft.
“Tell me about yourself.”
Jungkook blinks, clueless. “Uh, what would you like to know?”
“Everything. Anything ,” Jimin exhales, pausing for a second to contemplate his next words, “I — I feel like I don’t know anything about you. I want to know you as a person, not just as a pop star, you know?”
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes out, pursing his lips into a natural pout as he thinks about it. “I’m not sure I can separate those two,” he admits quietly. “Even before our song blew up last year, I’ve been in the industry for over a decade, so — it’s kind of all I’ve ever known.”
Jimin doesn’t know how to answer, the old insecurities resurfacing in the back of his mind, hungry for the spotlight. Jungkook isn’t just a regular person , he never will be. He is a born star, through and through. Trying to separate those two is like attempting to rip him into half. Don’t get him wrong, Jimin doesn’t have a problem with that. Jungkook is wonderful, exquisite from every angle; it’s him , who doesn’t fit into this perfect picture.
“I have a puppy,” Jungkook blurts out, “his name is Bam and he is a Dobbermann. He’s currently at doggie school, that’s why you haven’t seen him when you were — you know,” he says with a blush, the sheepishness of it all drawing a smile on the older’s face. “A-and, uhm, I have this scar on my face,” he points at his cheek. “I got it when I was fighting with my brother over the computer,” he recalls with an adorable grimace.
“You have a brother?” Jimin asks with a small chuckle.
“Oh, right! Yeah, I do,” Jungkook nods enthusiastically, “he is your age, hyung, so pretty old,” he teases.
“Yah!”
Jungkook laughs, followed by a little squeak when Jimin pokes his belly in retribution before they both burst into a fit of giggles.
“Jimin-hyung,” the idol says breathily once they calmed down, lifting himself up to look at the older. “I want you to meet my bandmates.”
“I thought I can’t meet any of your famous friends until we’re married or something,” Jimin recounts with an amused smile, giggling as the younger flushes.
“Okay, maybe I was a little over dramatic on that one,” Jungkook pouts, eliciting another little chuckle. Jungkook only pouts harder. “But I really mean it this time. I think the people you surround yourself with says a lot about you as a person. Birds of the feather, you know?” he says, the other acknowledging his words with a nod. “My hyungs are the people who give me a sense of normalcy in the midst of the chaos that is my life sometimes. They always treat me with kindness and care for me as a person. So, maybe if you get to know my bandmates, you’ll get to know me a little better too.”
Jimin thinks about it for a long moment, weighing all the sides. The idea of meeting Jungkook’s rich and famous friends sounds intimidating, but perhaps a little exposure therapy is exactly what he needs to get over it. Meeting j-hope would’ve intimidated him too if it wasn’t for that lucky accident, but it turned out to be an amazing experience.
“Okay,” Jimin says, lacing their fingers together. “Let’s do that.”
✦
“Are you sure I’m allowed in here?” Jimin tugs on Jungkook’s sleeve, glancing around nervously. Jimin was already anxious when they stepped into the idol’s label’s headquarters through the back door, and it only got worse when they needed to use a key card to even use the elevator.
“Yes, hyung, it’s totally fine,” Jungkook chuckles, “you’re acting like we’re breaking into the Blue House or something,” he adds teasingly. Jimin rolls his eyes, groaning when the idol giggles, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek. At least Jungkook gives him some grace and doesn’t mention how his cheeks develop a rosy hue from that.
Jungkook laces their fingers together once the elevator stops at the sixth floor, pulling him in the direction of a sleek black door. Jimin falters when he spots the door mat with ‘Go Away’ written over it, but it doesn’t seem to bother Jungkook; the idol barges into the studio, dragging Jimin with him.
“Yoongi!” he yells, no pleasantries whatsoever. The dark-haired man only hums, not even turning around in his chair. Clearly, he’s more than used to Junkook’s antics. “I wanna’ introduce you to someone.”
Yoongi finally turns around, eyeing the two of them; his face is carefully blank, except a hint of curiosity.
Jimin gulps. “Uh, h-hi,” he waves awkwardly, “I’m Jimin.”
“My soon-to-be boyfriend,” Jungkook adds proudly.
“Wow, someone is confident,” Jimin mumbles under his nose, rolling his eyes fondly when the younger grins.
“Oh, that Jimin,” the information clicks into place in Yoongi’s memory. Clearly, Jungkook’s been yapping about him a lot. Jimin’s face burns. “Well, hello, soon-to-be boyfriend Jimin,” Yoongi greets him back with an amused little smile. “I’m Yoongi, and that tall dude in there is Namjoon,” he motions to the recording booth that Jimin was too nervous to notice before. Namjoon waves and says something, but no voice reaches them. He frowns, shooting a look at Yoongi, who presses a button on the equipment with a little snicker.
“Hi, guys!” Namjoon says again with a warm smile, “sorry, we’re running a bit late. Give us five minutes and we’re be done.”
Right. He is famous too. He and Yoongi are the rappers of BTS - Jungkook’s band - while also playing the bass and the guitar, and apparently, they are both extremely good. Taehyung dropped to the ground and pretended to faint when Jimin told him he’s meeting both of them.
Jungkook reacts with a thumbs up, ushering the blond to take a seat on the cushy sofa in the corner.
“I’m glad you can witness the magic happen,” the idol whispers into his ear, his lips brushing against his earlobe. The touch elicits goosebumps on Jimin’s skin, followed by a warmth in his chest as the other pretends to yawn, his arm settling behind his back. What a dork.
Seeing the two rappers in the studio is indeed magical. Jimin isn’t that familiar with the rap scene, but these two are so undeniably passionate about their craft, it’s truly lovely to see them create. Apparently, it’s a song from Namjoon’s first mixtape, with a catchy beat and lyrics that make you want to sit down and wonder about life. Namjoon is releasing it as a side project, a gift to the fans, entirely free. Jimin itches to get into the nearest dance studio and just move to it.
“Okay, you can come out, Joon-ah,” Yoongi says, the other rapper taking the headphones off with a dramatic sigh of relief that makes the group chuckle. “I guess we're done. Do you guys want to listen?” The others agree and the rapper shows them a couple of songs he’s been working on. Jimin has got to admit, Taehyung has a great taste in music. He only heard a couple songs from the band, but he understands where his friend’s infatuation is coming from now that he’s actually made an effort to get to know them better. Jimin also learns that the two rappers also write and produce the band’s music, giving it a personal touch.
“Although, lately Kook-ah has been coming to me with a bunch of lyrics of his own,” Namjoon comments with a teasing smile, the singer almost choking on his noodles. Jimin blinks, eyes flickering between the two confusedly as he pats the idol in the back. Clearly, he’s missing out on something, judging by the sly grin on Yoongi’s face as he shares a look with his —- Friend? Boyfriend? Jimin isn’t sure what Namjoon exactly is for him. They definitely fucked though.
“Okay, Jimin-hyung came here to have lunch with us, not just sit around while we talk about work,” Jungkook derails the conversation nervously, offering to order for everyone. Yoongi stops him with a disapproving click of his tongue, then tells them the lunch is on them as he is the oldest. He casually tells Jimin to drop the honorifics and call him hyung, which makes the blond flush a little, still feeling a bit shy.
Both Namjoon and Yoongi turned out to be lovely people; once Jimin got over the fact that they are insanely famous, they were surprisingly normal . Namjoon is warm and friendly, inquiring about his studies and interests, making Jimin feel welcomed. Yoongi, on the other hand, is more reserved, observing him with an unreadable expression. It’s only by the end of their time together that Jimin learns what he thinks about him. The rapper kindly asked Jungkook to go down to the in-house café and get him an iced coffee, which Jungkook did without complaint, completely oblivious to the panicked look Jimin attempted to shoot at him. This is it, he thinks, this is the part they will interrogate him and tear him into pieces if he says the wrong thing — and Jimin always says the wrong thing; he has zero filter and is too proud to not bite back. This is going to be a disaster. Jungkook’s friends will hate him and Jungkook himself will finally realize, that he isn’t worth all this hassle —-
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to give you the overprotective dad speech. Jungkook is a big boy, he can take care of himself,” Yoongi says with a hint of amusement in his tone upon sensing his nervousness, making the blond smile awkwardly. “But I just want you to know that he doesn’t take this thing between you two lightly. Don’t get me wrong, he is a dork who grew up watching romantic movies, but he’d never risk his career over a silly crush,” he says with a meaningful look. “You mean a lot to him, so please be kind, okay? He’s a big softie.”
Jimin downcasts his eyes, fiddling with the seam of his jeans to keep his hands busy. “I don’t really get what he sees in me,” he mumbles, avoiding the others’s gaze. “I’m just a regular guy.”
“Ask him about the songs he wrote,” Namjoon suggests. Jungkook comes back before the blond could ask him to elaborate, the rappers conveniently leaving once Yoongi receives his coffee. They say goodbye to them, Namjoon shaking his hand with a sly wink before it’s just the two of them.
“That was weird,” Jungkook mumbles, the blond agreeing with a quiet hum. “Well, more dessert for us, right?” He lifted the takeout bag he brought from the café along with his friend’s coffee. Jimin chuckles, the two of them settling on the sofa again to munch on the sweet red bean paste pastries. The rappers’ words echo in Jimin’s mind, contemplating until their bellies are full whether he should dare to ask or not.
His curiosity ends up winning this time.
“So-o,” Jimin starts, dragging out the syllable as he eyes the idol carefully. He has a blissed out expression on his face, patting his belly in satisfaction. “Namjoon was talking about some — songs you have been writing lately?” Jungkook’s eyes snap open, looking at him in horror. “Or no?” the blond retreats, hesitant.
“Uh,” Jungkook sits up, rubbing his nape with an awkward chuckle. “I did, but they aren’t very good,” he says, cheeks rosy.
Jimin bites his lower lip, his curiosity only growing. “Can I hear?”
The idol groans, hiding his face bashfully. “Did the hyungs put you up on this?” his tone comes out muffled, but the blond can still tell it’s whiny.
Cute.
“They just gave me a tip,” Jimin chuckles, poking the younger’s side playfully. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top?” he says cutely, knowing the other won’t be able to say no.
“Fine,” Jungkook sighs dramatically, “just stop acting cute. I can’t handle it,” he says, eliciting a snort. “Okay, I’ll show you, but promise you won’t make fun of me.”
“Cross my heart,” Jimin draws imaginary lines over his chest.
Jungkook rolls closer to the equipment on his chair, logging into the computer. He’s clearly comfortable around all this strange technology that makes no sense to the blond, looking through the maps on the device until he pulls up a recording.
His finger falters on the console for a moment, taking a deep breath before he turns to the older.
“I’m a performer, not a songwriter,” the idol explains shyly. “I don’t really bother since there are professionals who can do a much better job than me, but —- sometimes I do get inspired,” he says, clicking play after an encouraging smile from the other.
It’s a catchy melody with only an acoustic guitar in the background, retelling a story of a love at first sight, where the singer - Jungkook - doesn’t know where they stand.
Are we falling in love? he asks.
It’s so sweet, so hopeful, so — pure .
Is he? Jimin isn’t sure. But he thinks he might be as he looks into those kind eyes. He might just be.
“So, now that I’ve embarrassed myself—“ Jungkook clears his throat once the recording is over, but Jimin doesn’t let him finish. He presses their lips together, eliciting a surprised little whimper from the idol before he kisses him back.
“It’s beautiful,” Jimin whispers against his lips. “Thank you for showing me, “ he adds before connecting their lips again.
Jimin isn’t sure he’s talking about the song anymore.