Archive of Our Own

Tastes like Obscenity

“You’re falling asleep again,” a calm voice observes to Jimin’s left, making him jump, head shooting up from its slumped position. A groan escapes past his lips and a wince takes over his features as he rolls his neck from side to side, a loud ‘pop’ echoing in the quiet of his living room. 

“Time is it?”

“Barely ten minutes since the last time you asked,” Sejin mutters, but indulges him anyway. "It's about to be three.”

“Fuck.”

“Yup,” he agrees with a dazed look. 

Jimin watches him remove his glasses in order to smooth his fingers across the lids of his tired eyes, and not for the first time he feels bad about making the driver stay so late at night. Not that it’s his fault, technically, but still…

He usually feels responsible for Jeongguk's decisions. 

"I'm sorry for keeping you, hyung," he apologizes genuinely, noting the way the older man's features soften while he carefully slides his glasses back on.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Jimin-ah. You know I care about him. Everyone deserves to fuck in peace without it becoming front page news the next day."

Jimin gives him a grateful smile, twisting the ring on his middle finger in an effort to keep his hands busy.

"Might not be much longer. He only took home the one." 

Sejin stares at him blankly, mouth opening and closing in indecision. Simultaneously they both break out into manic laughter at the absurdity of that sentence.

Jimin's phone interrupts them, trilling from where he left it on the coffee table, and he lunges for it, already knowing who it’s from.

JK 3:02am - It's safe to come out of hiding now. Be a peach and get rid of him for me. He's getting annoying. 

Jimin releases another groan and practically leaps to his feet, Sejin hot on his heels as they exit Jimin's apartment and take the private elevator one floor up, arriving in the hallway outside of Jeongguk's penthouse.

"Wait here, I'll send him out. As soon as you drop him off, go home, hyung. You won't have to come back till the afternoon," Jimin promises the older man, watching Sejin's shoulders sag as he leans heavily against the opposite wall. 

"Thank fuck."

Jimin punches in the code to Jeongguk's door and quietly let's himself in. The penthouse is silent, ostentatious and way too big for one person, but Jeongguk has always been partial to this space, staying here the longest among some of his other estate purchases. And there have been many.

Jimin quickly toes off his boots in the entryway; which is an organized clutter of every kind of shoe in every kind of design, all of them belonging to the rockstar, except Jimin’s and one other pair. 

On the table in the hallway is a copy of the NDA he had Jeongguk's current guest sign—he has the original—along with the man's ID, held securely in place by the grammy Jeongguk won barely two months ago.

All that hard work to attain the award only to have it be reduced to a paperweight for a non-disclosure agreement. It rankles him, so Jimin picks up the glimmering gramophone, along with the ID and contract copy, and brings them with him deeper into the apartment.

There are clothes strewn about the floor, pieces of furniture that look to have gotten in the way shoved out of their usual places. Thankfully, nothing appears damaged or broken. 

This time around. 

Jimin gently sets the grammy on a nearby table and waits. 

He doesn't have to for very long. The glowing blue light from the nearby aquarium shows a man stumbling out of Jeongguk's room, a pleased, seedy grin twisting his lips as he clutches his phone in one hand, checking the screen almost obsessively, and Jimin knows full well how this is gonna go, already mentally prepared for it. He watches Jeongguk’s latest conquest stop, the smile falling from his face when he notices there’s someone blocking his way. 

"Shiwoo-ssi," he greets, easily remembering the name on the piece of paper and ID he still holds. Jimin can admit to himself that he enjoys the way the man visibly tenses and fidgets, clearly uncomfortable. "I have a driver waiting in the hall, ready to take you home."

Shiwoo attempts to put on an air of confidence, his mobile held tightly to his body.

"Okay, lead the way."

"Before you go I have to check your phone." 

Confusion, anxiety and indignation flash rapidly over Shiwoo's features before finally settling on an unattractive sneer. 

“Yeah, I’m not giving you my phone.”

Jimin holds back his scoff, but the eyeroll is uncontainable. Of course. Everyone wants to fuck a celebrity, but no one wants to read the fine print on the damn NDA. At least he seems to be the exploitive type, eager for his fifteen minutes of fame. The other ones; the ones who fancy themselves in love with Jeongguk and special enough to matter more than just one night, who leave with tears and broken fantasies, Jimin thinks those people are the hardest to deal with.

Assholes, he can handle.

“I’m pretty sure you will, since you already agreed to it,” he explains calmly, though his temper is starting to flare, and he has to remind himself not to grit his teeth. It’s past three in the morning, he’s fucking tired, and this guy is using up the last of his patience. 

He should be sleeping, damn it.

“What the hell are you talking about,” Shiwoo demands, eyes narrowing when Jimin holds up the paper he signed over an hour ago. 

“Given your confusion I take it you didn’t bother to read this before slapping your signature on it, so let me paraphrase for you. By signing this, you agreed to never reveal any details regarding your time with Jeongguk to anyone. You also agreed that you would not take photographs, vidoes, recordings or any other material evidence that would allude to what occurred between the two of you.”

Jimin notes the way the man’s eyes get steadily wider, the grip he has on his phone becoming somewhat shaky. 

“And finally, you agreed to hand over your phone, and any other devices you’ve brought with you so I can determine that you have upheld your side of the agreement. If you still refuse, the legal team Jeongguk has in place have sued people for less.”

Shiwoo practically flails nervously, appearing to debate with himself before coming to a decision and thrusting his phone out towards Jimin with an irritated huff. He’s still several feet away, refusing to move and trying to force Jimin to come to him. 

But he’s not in the mood to be accommodating.

“Unlock it and bring it to me.”

The man rudely snorts but does as he’s told, unlocking the phone with trembling fingers and marching his way over to Jimin before practically throwing the phone at him. Jimin catches it easily, no doubt infuriating Shiwoo more. 

Of course there’s photos. Photos of Jeongguk in various stages of undress and one video that’s dark and grainy. Jimin doesn’t bother to watch any of it before deleting everything and emptying out the bin so they can’t be restored. It appears Shiwoo didn’t get the opportunity to try and hide them in a secure folder. Jimin checks the voice recorder as well as his cloud storage and finds them empty. 

“Did you send them to anyone,” he asks, keeping his tone calm and level. Shiwoo shakes his head, his eyes refusing to meet Jimin’s. 

“No bragging texts or emails?”

“I didn’t have time,” the man mutters, having the audacity to sound disappointed in himself. 

“For your sake, I hope not,” Jimin bites out, checking his messages to make sure he isn’t lying. He isn’t, and even though Jeongguk’s reputation is still intact, if it were up to him, this man would be slapped with a restraining order and a lawsuit. 

“I'm sure you can imagine what would happen if anything got out, and the consequences you would legally face since you signed this," Jimin informs him, rattling the NDA in Shiwoo's face. He takes in the way the man pales, feeling a vindictive kind of joy at the fear radiating off of him, even as he attempts to hide it.

"Can I have my ID and phone back," Shiwoo demands haughtily, and Jimin gives a slow blink as he actively works to keep control of his anger.

"Of course," he agrees, holding his hand outstretched with the other man's belongings, making Shiwoo come to him. He's clearly not happy about the reverse power play, snatching his things roughly and shoving them into one of his back pockets.

“You should take this as well,” Jimin suggests, extending the paper towards the other. “It is your copy, and you might find yourself needing to reread the finer points you missed earlier.”

Shiwoo gives him an ugly glare, ripping the paper out of his hand. Jimin quietly observes him stooping down to the articles of clothing that litter the floor, eyes narrowing when he grabs what looks to be something made of black leather and attempts to pull it on.

"I'll see myself out."

"As soon as you leave Jeongguk's jacket you're free to go."

Shiwoo has what sounds like a minor tantrum, throwing the leather jacket in Jimin's direction and missing him entirely before stomping off to the front door, slamming it behind him.

The quiet in the aftermath leaves him slightly unsettled, the weight of the day attempting to bare down on him.

"You're hot as fuck when you're angry."

Jimin would've been startled any other time, but he's too out of it to put in the effort, and he's honestly surprised Jeongguk didn't interfere sooner. 

He's standing in the doorway to his master bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, tattoos on full display over corded muscle and perfect skin. The ink crawls up from his fingers to his wrists, all the way up the entirety of his arms, painting the tops of his shoulders in artful designs, and tapering off just slightly halfway up either side of his neck. His long, dark hair is disheveled, like someone ran their fingers through it at least a dozen times, and his face is flushed, lips swollen the way they get sometimes when Jeongguk can’t stop himself from biting them.

The way he looks—like he's been taken apart in the best of ways—has something in Jimin's stomach tightening that he refuses to acknowledge.

"He filmed you, and he took pictures," Jimin informs him, choosing to ignore Jeongguk’s earlier comment. 

"So I heard, but you took care of it."

"You were careless-"

"Because I knew you'd take care of it," Jeongguk insists, stretching out his long, lean body so he can grasp the top of his door frame, elongating his bare torso in a; most likely, purposefully distracting manner. His sweatpants fall almost indecently low on his hips, another tattoo on the left side of his abdomen beginning to show, and Jimin knows it’s the tarot card for ‘The Lovers.’

What a ridiculous way to stand. Not at all practical, and probably uncomfortable. He doesn't look appealing at all…

Jimin refuses to lose focus.

“Tell me you didn’t leave him alone at any time,” he pleads, hoping like hell he doesn’t have to call another staff member down to do a sweep for any potential spy cameras.

“I didn’t leave him alone at any time,” Jeongguk answers obediently, still hanging off of his door, and still looking at Jimin with hooded eyes. He looks good when he’s relaxed, even though he has no reason to be. 

Well, other than whatever release he found with Shiwoo. 

"You really know how to pick 'em. Asshole even tried to steal your jacket.”

“I love that jacket,” Jeongguk pouts, his expression endearing even though the rest of him looks like sin. "We could add thievery to Shinhoo's list of transgressions when we file a report against him."

Jimin blinks owlishly at the rockstar, then attempts to rub the blurriness from his right eye.

"His name was Shiwoo, Jeongguk-ah, not Shinhoo."

Jeongguk shrugs absently.

"He was a piece of shit."

“He was a piece of shit," Jimin whole-heartedly agrees. "But at least he was good in bed, right?"

He immediately wants to kick himself for asking. What is wrong with him? He blames his inappropriateness on how tired he is, and by extension, Jeongguk. It's his fault he's still awake, after all.

The singer's nose scrunches up at his inquiry, giving a slight shake of his head. 

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you fucked him for an hour.”

"Didn't fuck him. I let him blow me."

"For an hour," Jimin asks, incredulous, even though it's none of his business.

"His technique was mediocre. Probably more worried about his camera angle than getting me off."

Jimin gapes at him, unsure of what to say. Jeongguk makes light of stuff like this, like it’s inconsequential or a joke. It isn't funny, not even a little bit, but it feels like they’ve both been through this enough times to become somewhat desensitized to it, people actively trying to ruin Jeongguk in the most invasive way.

They used to talk about it. Their friendship and dependency on each other not allowing for secrets. Jeongguk was once an open book, but lately, he’s built a wall around him that Jimin can’t get passed, no matter how high he climbs. 

He wonders how Jeongguk really feels about it without the need for bravado.

"You look like shit," the younger man says out of nowhere, and suddenly Jimin isn't as concerned with how he feels.

"Thank you, baby, you always know just what to say," he intones sarcastically with narrowed eyes, watching something flash across Jeongguk's face before he finally releases the doorframe and makes his way over.

His body is sinewy as he moves, calculated almost, confident, bringing himself toe to toe with Jimin and tangling his fingers in the material of his shirt, using his grip to pull him closer.

"I love it when you call me baby."

This isn’t new. Not really. This sort of teasing, fueled by tension and attraction that Jeongguk likes to bring attention to and Jimin tends to ignore for his own sanity. Lately though, Jeongguk has been getting increasingly more bold.

Jimin rolls his eyes—like he always does—and lightly tugs on a strand of Jeongguk's messy hair, grinning when his eyes flutter closed. 

"Don't be a brat, I'm tired and I want to go to bed. Do you need anything else?"

“You can put that thing back where you found it,” he answers, inclining his head to the right, where the grammy sits innocuous on the table.

“I’m going to put it back in the display case, where it belongs,” Jimin counters sweetly, moving away from Jeongguk to do just that, feeling the man's eyes tracking his every move as he makes his way into the living room, Jeongguk slowly following. 

“Are you really not going to do what I told you to, Jimin-ah,” he questions evenly, slipping into his deep satoori and making shivers run up Jimin’s spine. He watches, somewhat captivated as Jeongguk crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles there and in his torso becoming even more pronounced. 

Jimin forcefully tears his gaze away, and in answer, he gently places the grammy in its intended place among the Bonsangs, the Daesangs and the numerous other prestigious awards Jeongguk’s won during his short career as a rockstar. 

“A few things. One, if you want someone to do what you tell them, hire an assistant. Two, If you don’t want this around," he says pointing to the grammy, "send it to your eomma. She’d be thrilled to display it. And three, I’m still your hyung.”

“And I’m your boss. You want to be my hyung, then you can start calling me sajangnim. It has a nice ring to it.”

“I’m your manager,” Jimin fires back, too exhausted to care if he's being childish.

“I’m the one who signs your paychecks.”

Jimin reluctantly stays quiet, glaring at the way Jeongguk’s lips curl into a pleased smile. 

“We’re equals. Right, baby?”

His indignant snort echoes throughout the room, though he supposes he deserves it. Truthfully, they used to be equals, but they don’t really feel like that anymore. Especially these days, with Jeongguk remaining so closed off and demanding. 

"Why are you so tired," he suddenly questions, confusing Jimin with the quick topic change.

"It's three in the morning."

"So."

"I've been up since five," Jimin explains, incredulous.

"I should let you sleep then," Jeongguk murmurs placatingly, a grin still playing on his lips. "Would that help?"

"Yes, and you can stop bringing assholes home with you. That would be greatly appreciated."

"Just as soon as you make an honest man out of me, baby."

Jimin makes a face at him, ignoring the way Jeongguk laughs while he closes the display case. He moves sluggishly out of the living room, cautiously approaching the singer, hoping he doesn’t have to deal with another power struggle before he leaves. 

"Shower and sleep, you have that photoshoot for Time tomorrow at two. We're leaving by noon, you hear me," Jimin demands with a raised finger, making the mistake of poking Jeongguk's hard, toned chest. It probably hurts him more than it does the other, but he's trying to emphasize a point. He'll be damned if they're late again because Jeongguk thinks it's okay to take hour long showers regardless of time constraints.

Jimin nearly loses his breath when Jeongguk grabs his wrist, flattening his hand until his palm is pressed right over his heart, tracking the rhythmic thumping against his skin.

The moment breaks with Jeongguk's words.

"If you want someone to do what you tell them to, hire an assistant," he parrots back, leaning down until his face is alarmingly close to Jimin’s, clearly unbothered as he scratches his bare stomach with his free hand, right above the lovers tattoo.

Jimin simply refuses to let it affect him.

"I have an assistant. You seem to constantly forget that I'm not yours. I'm your manager, and if you want to be on the damn magazine, we'll be on time."

It's almost like a pun, given the magazine name.

"You think I won't score the cover if we're late," Jeongguk ponders, looking entirely too thoughtful, and Jimin doesn't like his tone, a hint of a challenge creeping into his bright eyes.

He knows that look.

"Let's just try to be professional, hmm? We don't need to give the company more reasons to be upset with you."

"Fuck the company," Jeongguk declares simply, no bite to his tone, as if stating a fact. Jimin cocks his head at him with a small smile, despite himself.

"How very rock and roll of you. But while you sign my paychecks, they sign yours, okay? So be good and go shower."

“Mmmh,” Jeongguk hums, somehow bringing himself even closer to Jimin, his hands sliding up to his neck, fingers carding through his hair. “Tell me to be good again.”

Jimin can’t stop his eyes from fluttering closed, but he does manage to keep the embarrassing sounds at bay. 

Fuck, he loves having his hair played with, and of course Jeongguk knows that.

But he refuses to let this brat have the upper hand.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin says quietly, voice purposefully breathy. Jeongguk leans further in, his attention caught, eyes fixated.

“Yes, Jimin?”

“I’m about to kick your legs out from under you if you don’t go shower and let me sleep.”

Jeongguk pulls away with a huff, looking irritated and disappointed all at once. 

“You’re no fucking fun.”

“Let’s see how much fun you are after being up for nearly twenty-four hours.”

“I’m always fun,” Jeongguk mutters, and Jimin watches his retreating back with a strange mixture of regret and exasperation. 

“Goodnight to you too,” he calls, the sound of Jeongguk’s shower starting is the only reply he gets. 

“Thank you, Jimin, you saved my ass tonight. I don’t know what I’d do without you. It’s so amazing how you always go above and beyond the call of your job,” Jimin mumbles to himself, gathering all the clothes Jeongguk left strewn about on the ground. When he realizes what he’s doing he groans in frustration, but still takes the time to throw them in the hamper before exiting the penthouse. 

The trip one floor down to his own apartment is quiet, the entire way feeling more like a daydream then reality. Jimin kicks his shoes off in the entryway and stumbles towards his bedroom, his vision getting increasingly blurier. 

Like Jeongguk’s penthouse; but to a slightly lesser degree, Jimin’s apartment is way too big for just him, and far too expensive for his tastes. But Jeongguk stipulated that they live in the same building, insisting that he take care of the expenses, and this is what he chose.

He’s tried everything he could think of to make it feel cozy and more like home, but from the furnishings to the appliances to the damn lighting fixtures, it all just screams wealth, and Jimin doesn’t really know where to begin to change it. Not that he ever has the time to even make an attempt.

At least the bed is perfect, he thinks, pulling off all of his clothes and collapsing face first onto the mattress. Jimin sinks into it, his down comforter practically engulfing him, like a warm welcome home. 

It's a struggle to find his charger, but when he finally does, he plugs his phone in and reluctantly opens the text message that's waiting for him.

Sejin 3:32am - Got him home finally. He had a pair of Jeongguk's shoes with him, those boots he always wears. Threw a fit but I managed to get them back before kicking his ass out of the car.

Jimin lets out an incredulous noise as he rereads the message. 

"Fucking thief," he whispers, typing out his gratitude, and hoping it's legible. 

He tosses his phone away, settling deeper into his bed and letting his eyes fall closed. 

Jeongguk takes over his thoughts, as he's oft to do, his memories conjuring up a time when he was still young and innocent. Back then, those who sought to exploit him so cruelly had the power to make him break and cry. Jimin doesn't know what's worse, the boy who was so easily hurt, or the man who showed no emotion tonight after being violated like that once again.

He’s asleep before he can decide.

-

An alarm blares through the quiet, making Jimin jerk awake and upright with a sniffle. His eyes will barely open, throat sore, face swollen, and he’s still so tired.

“Ugh,” he croaks, hand fumbling to grasp his phone and silence the damn ringing. It’s nearing eleven, so at least he slept for almost seven hours. 

Though he wants nothing more than to fall back into bed, Jimin forces himself up and goes through the motions of his morning routine. Once he’s done brushing his teeth, he scans his closet critically, picking out suitable clothes for the day. He refuses to look anything less than impeccable, no matter how exhausted he is, a strong believer that if one looks great, one feels great. 

His outfit consists of a simple white button-down shirt that’s pleasantly soft on his skin, and what are essentially form-fitting black slacks made from a smooth material that cost way too much money, but they make his ass look good, so…

He runs a comb through his thick black hair, deciding on some makeup to help perk him up a little and get rid of the dark circles under his eyes. 

One last glance at the mirror reveals he looks incredible, and Jimin gives himself a satisfied smile.

On his way out, he stares at the coffee maker in his kitchen, the one he hasn't been allowed to use in almost two weeks. Jeongguk is on a caffeine cleanse and a strict no sugar diet on the orders of his trainer and nutritionist while he finishes up his circuit of promotions.

Because Jeongguk has to suffer, he feels it's only fair that everyone else should suffer along with him. No one is allowed to drink coffee around him, and as his best friend, Jimin isn't even allowed to drink coffee at all.

Well fuck that, he decides.

Today is a coffee kind of day. He's tired, running on barely any sleep in the last seventy-two hours, and it's all Jeongguk's fault. Plus, he's not even the one dieting.

And what Jeongguk doesn't know won't hurt him.

Jimin makes himself a quick cup, guzzling it down with a grateful moan despite its temperature. He scalds his tongue and the roof of his mouth but the caffeine zipping through his system is entirely worth it. Quickly, he rinses out the mug and the coffee pot to get rid of the evidence before heading to his front door.

His bag is where he always keeps it, hanging up in the closet next to the entryway. Jimin unzips it and carefully pulls apart the black leather, inspecting its contents to make sure he has everything. Laptop, tablet, chargers, wallet, Jeongguk’s wallet, sunglasses, gum, a few snacks and his keys. Satisfied, he grabs a stick of fruity gum to mask his coffee breath, and zips the bag back up.

The elevator ride up to Jeongguk’s penthouse is another blur, Jimin still feeling dazed until he has to concentrate enough to enter in the code for the door. 

0613

The day Aurum performed for the first time in front of an audience. He’ll have to convince Jeongguk to change it, soon. Anyone who knows anything about him and his band could guess it, no problem. 

Jimin lets himself in, setting his bag down next to the door and making his way to Jeongguk’s bedroom.

The room is dark when he enters, so he keeps still for a few seconds, allowing his eyes to adjust. 

Jeongguk is asleep, of course, never bothering to set an alarm of his own. He’s laid out on his stomach, nude. One long leg outstretched, the other bent at the knee, black sheet tangled up and barely covering his modesty. In the center of his back starting out from his spine, is a gorgeously detailed tattoo of a ryong dragon on a bed of orange and peach tiger lilies. Like most of his tattoos, Jeongguk drew the design himself.

Jimin closes his eyes for a moment, trying to get rid of that overwhelmed feeling he often gets when looking at the younger man. Taking in a deep, steadying breath, he squares his shoulders, and approaches.

“Jeongguk-ah,” he calls loudly, frowning when the other doesn’t even stir.

“Jeongguk-ah,” He tries again, louder this time. Jeongguk’s brow furrows, but it quickly smooths out as he continues to sleep. 

Jimin huffs, moving to the side of the bed closest to the still sleeping form. He leans over Jeongguk, gently pushing back the dark strands of hair that obscure his face and his breath catches, once more caught off guard by the man’s beauty. In sleep, he appears soft and content, even peaceful. Jimin doesn't get to see him like this all that much anymore, and the reminder saddens him.

Jeongguk shifts, leaning into Jimin’s touch and letting out a pleased moan, seemingly eager for the contact, even in sleep.

Jimin removes his hand as if he’s been burned, heart pumping loudly, unable to shake the feeling that he's doing something wrong. He places it instead on his thick shoulder, giving it a rough shake. 

“Wake up, Jeongguk,” Jimin demands, and then lets out a rather high-pitched shriek. 

A hand shoots out quickly—the reason for his surprise—grabbing his wrist in a firm hold, and Jimin suddenly finds his world spinning until he lands on something soft, while something not-so-soft presses into him.

Jeongguk blinks down at him in tired confusion from his new position on the mattress, his hands encasing Jimin’s shoulders, a strong thigh thrown over his hips.

A very strong, very naked thigh.

Jimin can practically feel the heat coming off of his bare skin, warming his body and making him squirm in his hold. His leg brushes against something rigid and thick, making his mouth run dry and his cheeks flush.

“Always knew I’d get you in my bed someday,” Jeongguk rasps, his hold loosening enough for Jimin to roll away if he wants to, but he doesn’t.

Because he’s weak. 

“You’re hilarious, even first thing in the morning. Now can you get your dick off of my leg.”

“I can think of a better place to put it.”

Jimin’s pulse jumps again, but he forces himself to appear as unaffected as possible. 

“So can I. You can put it in your pants so we can get to your photoshoot on time.”

Jeongguk snorts but then suddenly stiffens. His eyes narrow, brow furrowed in a look of confusion when he leans further down, their faces barely an inch apart while Jimin's own eyes widen in surprise. He nearly whimpers when the younger man deeply inhales near his lips, lids closing only to reopen with a look of indignation.

"You drank coffee, Jimin-ah."

Jimin gulps, feeling like cornered prey.

"Just a little."

"A little?"

"One cup."

"After you promised." 

Jimin raises a brow at him in disbelief.

"That's strange. I don't remember making any such promise. I think you're referring to that time you made some silly decision on my behalf, even though I didn't agree to it." 

Jeongguk quietly appraises him, one brow raised as he does.

"Okay," he replies calmly. His entire demeanor is far too nonchalant as he rolls off of the bed completely and starts moving away. Jimin is immediately suspicious. When he sits up, he’s treated to the sight of Jeongguk’s perfect, bare ass heading towards the bathroom. 

"Okay," he questions, unable to look away from the thick, corded thighs leading up to the plump, round cheeks.

“Okay,” he repeats over his shoulder, smirking when he sees where Jimin’s eyes are fixated. Jimin shakes his head in a sorry attempt to clear it and quickly averts his gaze.

"What are you doing?”

“Gonna shower.”

“Just a short one, right?"

The door closing on him is his answer.

"Fuuuucck," Jimin drawls, sitting on Jeongguk's bed as he continues to stare at the bathroom door, unsure of what to do for a moment. 

He leaves the bedroom, deciding it would be more appropriate to wait out in the living room, instead. Usually he'd spend his time making Jeongguk breakfast, but the singer always refuses to eat big meals until after he’s finished with the photoshoots or recordings of the day.

For lack of anything better to do, Jimin turns on the TV and settles deeper into the comfortable sofa in an attempt to stay preoccupied. It’s already on some music program, the hosts; two females and one male, are talking animatedly about the live concert Jeongguk is putting on worldwide in two days. 

The concert sold out within seconds of the tickets going up for sale and those who weren't lucky enough to be there in person were given the option to livestream the event. He has the exact number of tickets sold on his tablet, and it is beyond impressive. 

The hosts say something to that effect, going on and on about how amazing Jeongguk is. How he’s as professional as he is successful. 

Jimin snorts. If they only knew what a complete pain in the ass he is. 

Case in point, he’s been in the shower for twenty minutes already, time speeding quickly towards noon when Jimin gave no quarter about when they would leave. Another five minutes go by and his phone vibrates with a text. 

Sejin 11:46am - We’re down in the garage.

Jimin groans, sending back a quick message to let the driver know that it’ll probably be another five to ten minutes.

He gets another text, from Shinhye this time, his PA. 

Shinhye 11:48am - I’ve made sure Jeongguk’s dressing room is to his specifications. The photographer will be here at 1 to 1:30 to set up, 12:30 to 2 will be hair, makeup and wardrobe. Hoseok is already here, and the stylist that the magazine outsourced is currently on his way, but the clothes are here already.

Jimin sends back his gratitude for the update, and something about making sure she gets a raise before he takes in a deep breath. 

Photoshoots unnerve him. Jeongguk doesn’t like having his picture taken, especially if he has to do it alone. He prefers to be with his members, but Time is doing an individual issue on Jeongguk, Yoongi, and Namjoon, respectfully, so it was unavoidable. He knows Jeongguk becomes increasingly difficult to handle if he's made to do something he hates, just as he knows this day is going to be filled with bouts of anxiety and copious amounts of damage control.

Jimin checks his watch anxiously and lets out a distressed whine. Less than ten minutes to noon and he can still hear the damn shower going. They have to be on the road by twelve. The shooting location is in a converted warehouse across town and they have to account for traffic!

Jimin hates it when he’s late. He has to be on time, or early, it's just the way he is, Jeongguk knows this.

He sits on the couch, nervously pulling at his fingers as he stares into space, music program forgotten. Jimin’s leg is jumping, sock-covered foot tapping against the hardwood floors as if he’s marking time.

It’s passed twelve now.

Jimin bursts off of the couch and practically sprints into Jeongguk’s bathroom, a giant, pristine thing made of smooth marble with glittering flecks of gold on every available surface and handle. The shower is a monster. Tall glass doors, multiple shower heads, and big enough to fit seven; maybe eight, people. 

Jeongguk is just...standing there, one arm raised and leaning heavily against the tiled wall. His dark hair is drenched, covering most of his face and falling down his neck, ending at the start of his back. 

Jimin is livid.

He’s so upset, it’s not even a hardship to keep his gaze above the waist. Gritting his teeth, he pulls open the shower door, uncaring if his sleeves get wet as he reaches in and shuts the water off. Jeongguk doesn’t even react at first, and Jimin has to actively work to keep himself calm.

“I wasn’t done, Jimin-ah.”

“You’re done. Get out, we’re gonna be late.”

Jeongguk lifts his head slightly, and Jimin can’t help the quiet gasp he makes at the way he stares at him under heavy lidded eyes, gaze piercing, his hair falling in a way that obscures just enough of his features to make him look dangerous. 

“Do you want to dry me too? Maybe help me into my clothes?”

Jimin isn’t sure if he flushes from anger or embarrassment. He doesn't know why Jeongguk likes to tease him so much. Why he can’t just make things easier for him and listen. It’s not like he’s telling Jeongguk to do these things because he likes ordering him around. It’s in his best interest, damn it.

“I want you to stop being a brat and get ready,” Jimin declares, not sparing him another glance before heading back towards the living room. His phone is where he left it, blinking with several new notifications. Jimin answers what he can, ignores what he doesn’t want to deal with just yet, and deletes entire threads of conversation just to feel a little bit less cluttered. 

Finally, Jeongguk exits his bedroom in a loose, black, long-sleeved top over his usual black cargo pants with the million pockets that cuff at the ankle. He’s got his damp hair pulled up in a bun, a leather backpack slung over one shoulder that's almost identical to Jimin's, and a sour look on his face. 

“What are you just sitting around for? We’re gonna be late,” he chastises on his way to the door, ignoring the way Jimin’s mouth falls open. Jimin collects himself, muttering something not very nice and follows after him. Jeongguk’s standing in the entryway, looking over the numerous pairs of shoes and making small frustrated noises in the back of his throat. 

“What is it,” Jimin asks tentatively, not wanting to delay their small progress further.

"Where the fuck are my boots?”

“Which ones,” he snorts back, studying each and every pair. There's at least six different types of boots that he can see.

“My Prada stomper boots,” he describes, and Jimin wonders if they’re actually called that.

He remembers something vital just as the doorbell rings. Jungkook yanks it open without even looking through the peephole, even though Jimin has repeatedly told him not to do that. Sejin is on the other side, boots in hand, bless him.

He forgot that asshole from the other night tried to steal them.

"Here they are," Jimin exclaims, quickly taking the offered shoes and handing them over to Jeongguk; who looks as if he’s about to demand an explanation, but Jimin is quick to take away his chance, grabbing his bag and closing the door on him with a rushed, “meet you at the elevator.”

He exhales loudly once there's a barrier between them, feeling his body droop like a puppet with its strings cut. 

“You’re very tense these days,” Sejin observes, and Jimin hums in acknowledgement. 

“Most of the time I feel like a nanny to a spoiled child then I do a manager to a rockstar.”

“Is that why you weren’t answering your phone? That’s the only reason I came up.”

“He wouldn’t get out of the shower,” Jimin mutters, shrugging when Sejin murmurs in understanding.

They make their way quietly to the elevator, pressing the button and holding the door so it won’t close. Jimin’s anxiety only slightly ebbs when Jeongguk finally joins them, his Prada stomper boots laced on his feet.

They’re all silent and remain so when they reach the parking garage. Seo Inha; Jeongguk’s very tall, very quiet bodyguard, is next to the car, pulling the door open for Jeongguk with a nod. Jimin makes his way to the other side and slides in next to him, pulling out his tablet and taking a look at the schedule. Photoshoot and interview today. Dress rehearsal tomorrow and concert the day after.

It's a lot, but feeling overwhelmed would be useless. There’s always going to be more to do, less breaks to enjoy, and while Jeongguk bares the brunt of the schedule, Jimin’s job is to make sure he pulls it all off. 

They head out into heavy traffic, workers attempting to take advantage of their lunch break and grab some food, doing nothing to help the already congested roads. Jeongguk busies himself looking out the window, and Jimin spends the time answering emails and texts. They’ve only been driving for ten minutes when the silence is broken. 

“Sejin,” Jeongguk calls, and Jimin already feels the telling signs of his stomach dropping. “There’s a coffee shop up ahead that I want to try.”

Jimin's throat closes up, his eyes wide as they meet Sejin’s in the rearview mirror. Inha is silent, though Jimin can see the way his shoulders tense slightly at the idea of stopping. Both of them know how Jimin feels about being late, just as they know that Jeongguk isn’t supposed to have caffeine or sugar right now. Still, Sejin works for Jeongguk, not Jimin. 

“Let me know when to turn.”

Jimin watches Jeongguk beam at the driver and turn his gaze back to the window, ignoring him entirely.

He doesn’t want to, but he knows he has to do something to dissuade him. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” he starts softly, feeling his cheeks flush when the younger man turns to him with an expectant look. “We’re going to be late.”

“I’m sure a couple of minutes won’t make much of a difference.”

Jimin blinks at Jeongguk’s blank expression before trying again.

“What about your diet? You’ve been doing so well.”

“I was, but today I want coffee. You of all people should understand, right, Jimin-ah?”

Jimin knows he’s being punished. He knows that’s exactly why Jeongguk is being insufferable, because he had a damn cup of coffee and for that, he’s going to have to deal with the antics of a child. 

“You don’t like high calorie intake before photoshoots. You’re only going to complain later and blame it on me.”

“Your opinion of me isn’t very nice,” Jeongguk says with an exaggerated pout, pointing out the coffee shop to Sejin when it’s close enough. 

Jimin gives a deep sigh and lets it go. He’s not going to win. He never wins.

Sejin pulls into the drive-through; which is packed, Jimin should expect nothing less. Inha can’t sit still, his gaze shifting constantly at their surroundings, remaining alert. 

When it's finally their turn, Jeongguk orders the largest, sweetest blended coffee they have, and Jimin reluctantly hands over the singer's wallet so he can pay for it. The one blessing is that he’s quiet the rest of the way to the studio, save for the obscene moans of appreciation he gives whenever he takes a drink. 

Completely unnecessary. 

They’re twenty minutes late, and with each passing minute over the time that was agreed upon, Jimin feels as if he’s going to have a meltdown. Shinhye keeps texting him for updates, and even though she won’t say it, Jimin knows she’s only asking because someone at the studio is demanding to know. 

As soon as the warehouse is in sight, Jimin hastily packs his tablet back up into his bag and shoves his phone in his pocket. When the car stops, he practically flings himself out of it and rushes over to Jeongguk’s side before Inha can even get out. The bodyguard opens the car door for the singer, waiting patiently as Jeongguk takes his sweet time to climb out. Jimin is a jittery nervous wreck, while the rockstar gives off an air of calm boredom.

Sejin drives off with a small wave that Jimin returns, going to enjoy his free time for the next couple of hours before he comes back for them. Jimin envies him. What he wouldn’t give to just worry about himself for even a fraction of that time.

They’re met at the door by a pretty woman in a light blue blouse that’s been tucked into her black pencil skirt, ending just above her knees. She looks almost as frazzled as Jimin feels.

“Jeongguk-ssi,” she greets with a deep bow that he; to his credit, tries to return before she shoots back up again with an almost manic look. “We’re so glad you’re here. My name is Mo Heyi, If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your dressing room.”

Before Jeongguk is even finished nodding, she’s off across the studio, with no glance behind to see it they’re following. 

“She didn’t ask who you were,” he says, sounding perturbed as they follow sedately, and Jimin snorts an unamused laugh. 

“I doubt anyone cares. They know I work for you and they’re already scattered over the fact that we’re late. Time is money.”

Jeongguk hums absently in answer, sipping his drink while they make their way across the studio. There are people all around, putting the last minute touches on the set, or checking to make sure the lighting is just right. Some even stop and stare at them. Well, Jeongguk. They mostly stare at Jeongguk. 

His group is the first Korean act to win a grammy, and Jeongguk's notoriety has reached far and wide. Yoongi and Namjoon face the same, but as the frontman of Aurum, Jeongguk seems to have to deal with the brunt of it.

Jimin tries not to let all those gazes affect him, grateful when they enter a long deserted corridor with rows of doors on either side. 

Heyi opens one, and gestures them in. It’s a large dressing room, decorated just the way Jeongguk likes, with black silk curtains, candles that smell of vanilla, a table filled with his favorite diet-approved snacks and drinks, and a large potted plant, nestled in the corner. When Jimin spots Shinhye fussing over the table of food, he gives her a grateful nod in approval at the room. 

Heyi motions Jeongguk forward, and introduces him to the stylist for the shoot. He’s a tall, slim man, dressed impeccably in gray slacks and a white button down, shoes shiny and unmarred. Jimin watches from behind as he attempts to lead Jeongguk towards a rack of clothes. 

Inha goes straight for the sectional in the farthest corner of the room, where he’ll have the perfect vantage point to see everyone who goes in or out. 

On the wall to the left of the door is a long counter with a row of lighted mirrors. There, Hoseok is already setting up, his usual kit of cosmetics and hair products lining the surface as he unpacks them all. Jimin makes his way over, happy to see him. 

As soon as he captures Hoseok’s attention the makeup artist frowns, causing Jimin’s smile to fall.

“Oh, Jiminie,” he tuts in greeting, reaching up to rub a gentle thumb under Jimin’s eye. In the harsh light of the mirrors he can easily see the purple bruises showing underneath his rushed makeup job. 

“You want me to take care of those for you?”

“Right now it’s the least of my problems,” Jimin reveals, his smile back as soon as he makes Hoseok start laughing. 

“Jeongguk-ah giving you trouble?”

“Isn’t he always?”

“Lately I’d say more so than usual,” the older man mutters, frowning down at a flat iron.

Jimin feels vindicated that he isn’t the only one who’s noticed that Jeongguk has become increasingly more difficult, but it’s short lived since he still has no idea how to fix the issue.

“Are you all good here? Have everything you need, hyung?”

“I’m good,” Hoseok confirms with a decisive nod as he plugs in the flat iron and checks the settings. “I’ll be ready to go as soon as wardrobe is done with him.”

Jimin squeezes the older man’s arm and goes to check on his PA, Shinhye. She’s still by the snacks, shuffling things around almost nervously to try and keep herself busy. 

Jimin rushes over to her, eager to put her at ease. 

“He’s drinking coffee,” she whisper-yells once he’s close enough, and Jimin huffs at the obvious observation. 

“I’m aware. Tell me,” he instructs, and it’s a testament to how long she’s worked for him that she already knows what he means. 

“They weren’t happy you were late and phoned the company. I got a call from Soohan.”

“Fuck,” Jimin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What did he say?”

“He told me that as soon as you have a moment to call him immediately.”

“Shit, okay. I’ll...I’ll call him when Jeongguk starts the shoot.”

Shinhye nods, a look of empathy in her eyes. She’s the only one he’s told about just how bad dealing with Soohan is. He can’t tell Jeongguk. Not since he started acting differently, and especially not since he’s the reason Soohan is always taking his anger out on Jimin.

He puts it out of his mind for now, gently squeezing Shinhye’s hand in thanks, making his way back to Jeongguk and the stylist so he can check in. As soon as he walks up, Jeongguk interrupts whatever the man had been saying and decides to introduce them.

“Yonghwa-ssi, this is my manager, Park Jimin. Jimin, this is Jung Yonghwa,” he announces, looking rather pleased with himself. Jimin feels flustered and speechless, the stylist looking no better as he stutters out a surprised, “Oh,” and rushes to bow to him as well. Jimin returns it somewhat awkwardly, muttering, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Only after Jimin is acknowledged does Jeongguk allow the conversation to continue. 

The stylist is going over each article of clothing, listing off brands and which collection they’re from. Jeongguk looks bored, but he doesn’t interrupt again. There’s three outfits in total. A deep purple suit with a matching tie and an equally dark shirt. The second is a leather affair with what looks to be a plain black button down, and the last one is some kind of athletic wear. 

“I like the purple suit,” Jimin offers when Yonghwa's speech finally ends. At Jimin's exclamation, he looks slightly offended, a kind of pompous way about him as he eyes Jimin up and down. 

"Technically the color is wine, not purple. I've always been partial to shades like this, myself. They say wine is the new black."

Jeongguk releases the straw of his drink to give Yonghwa a truly withering look.

"Black is the new black."

"R-right, of course," the stylist says, suddenly nervous, and Jimin can't really blame him with the way Jeongguk's eyes bore into the frozen man. Anyone would hate to be on the receiving end of that look.

"So," Jimin exclaims, clapping his hands together and breaking the tension of the moment. "Which outfit first?"

The stylist trips over himself to offer the wine colored suit, which Jeongguk takes without so much as a 'thank you,' passing off his coffee and bag to Jimin. He accepts them without complaint, more than used to his antics by now. The bag feels as if it has at least four bricks in it, and he sets it down at his feet as gently as he can, watching Jeongguk's retreating form being led to the dressing rooms.

Jimin takes a big drink out of his coffee just to spite him.

Shinhye leads him over to the sleek black couches where Inha still sits vigilant, and he drags Jeongguk’s bag along with him and sets it down with his own, next to Shinhye’s. He holds onto the coffee, though, and takes another long pull of the sugary drink. 

“Why is he drinking caffeine,” She asks, her fingers pulling at her lip in that nervous habit she has. Jimin gently coaxes her hand away before she can do any damage and deeply inhales, gathering his thoughts while he sets the drink down on the coffee table. 

“He’s trying to punish me.”

“Again?”

“I didn’t get to sleep last night till almost four.”

“But we were up at five taking care of next month’s schedule,” Shinhye proclaims, sounding as if she can't reconcile the two.

“I know, trust me. So I was exhausted and had a cup of coffee, and of course Jeongguk figured it out.”

“Oh...oh.”

“Yup.”

“It’s bad enough none of us can't drink coffee while we work, but making you forego it entirely is unfair.”

“Normal people would agree, yes.”

“Hopefully Taesung-ssi and Hana-ssi don’t find out.”

Jimin doesn’t hold out hope for himself. Jeongguk’s trainer and his nutritionist somehow both knew the last time he broke his diet, and Jimin had been scolded right alongside him, as if he has any control over the man. 

People give him too much credit in that respect. 

“Jiminie?”

Jimin looks up when Hoseok calls him and dutifully goes as he beckons him over. Once they’re a foot apart, Hoseok motions for him to sit in the chair in front of his station, and Jimin sighs but does as he’s told. It’ll be a lot less of a hassle if he just allows this to happen. 

Hoseok is stubborn.

He already has concealer in Jimin’s complexion open, dabbing some on the back of his hand before tapping the tip of a finger in it. 

“You look like someone punched you in both eyes,” he murmurs, carefully rubbing the cream under his lid. Jimin snorts, feeling the exhaustion pull at the edges of his mind as he relaxes. 

“Thanks, hyung, you look good too.”

“I know I look good. You look tired.”

“I need a vacation.”

“What you need to do is hold still so I can finish.”

Jimin holds still. 

“You’re so...pallid,” he notes with a critical stare, concern heavy in his gaze. It’s the only reason why Jimin doesn’t take offense.

“I don’t get out much.”

Hoseok tuts and goes for something else on the counter. It’s sleek, compact and round and he watches the older man tentatively open it.

“I’m just gonna put some color in your cheeks. Perk you up a little.”

Jimin motions for him to continue, knowing that once the makeup artist wants to do something, there’s little use in trying to dissuade him from it.

The feeling of soft powder being brushed onto his cheeks makes him strangely floaty, like he’s not really here, and Jimin is convinced that’s the lack of sleep kicking in, dulling his senses.

It feels nice to be pampered, so he doesn’t even question it when Hoseok begins to trace his lips in a smooth, red-tinted lip balm. 

“You should wear something like this more often. Makes those big lips of yours pop, and they deserve the attention.”

Jimin giggles, shaking his head at the words. 

“Not looking for attention.”

Hoseok snorts. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters. "You deserve to be appreciated," he coaches, smacking his lips in demonstration until Jimin follows suit. He continues to do so, watching Hoseok grab a long black tube from the counter. “Let’s do your lashes next.”

Jimin doesn’t get a chance to agree or disagree, as Jeongguk’s presence fills the room once more, Yonghwa following pitifully after him, his hands raised as if trying to help. He’s got the suit on, the color is definitely striking, but on Jeongguk it’s nothing less than exquisite. The material shines in the light, as if made from satin or taffeta. Jimin’s mind almost blanks out, unable to concentrate, until he notices the frown Jeongguk is wearing, the way his gaze is narrowed down at the tie that’s wrapped around his neck. 

Jeongguk is hopeless with a tie.

He stops right in front of Jimin, looking at him expectantly with that familiar pout. 

Jeongguk looks disarmingly cute.

Jimin gains his feet, not even needing to be asked at this point, nor expecting to be, and gets to work on the tie. He focuses on the task at hand, smartly choosing to ignore the way that Yonghwa seems to flinch at every movement Jimin makes, as if fearing he'll rip the material, or convinced he’s doing it wrong. 

Once finished, he smooths his hands down Jeongguk’s suit jacket, aware of how unnecessary the action is; but doing it anyway, and makes the mistake of looking up. Jeongguk is staring at him, that same weighted look he’s been seeing aimed his way a lot more recently gracing his features. Like always, Jimin ignores it and takes a resolute step back, almost tripping on the chair behind him. 

“All finished.”

Now that his clothes are taken care of, Mo Heyi is back, trying to move things along by motioning Jeongguk towards his own makeup artist, as if she’s handling a child. Jimin wants to shake his head at her, or give some kind of signal that she should cease treating him that way. If there’s one thing Jeongguk hates, it’s being treated condescendingly. 

Before Jimin can intervene and make sure Jeongguk doesn’t offend the girl, Hoseok is already gently assuring her that he’s got everything under control, and that yes, he does have the director’s concept notes with him, and no, it won’t take long. Once she’s satisfied, she leaves the dressing room, taking Yonghwa with her. 

Jimin breathes a sigh of relief, heading towards the opposite end of the room and sinking back into the couch between Shinhye and Inha. He pulls out his tablet, fielding emails about potential appearances, sending the ones from people Jeongguk actually likes to the company to be reviewed and deleting the rest. He’s dreading the phone call he’ll soon have to make, wondering how low Hwang Soohan is going to bring him today. 

Hoseok works fast, but efficiently, his talent clear to see in the subtle ways he manages to emphasize Jeongguk’s natural beauty without overdoing it. Not even twenty minutes has passed when Hoseok’s calls that he’s nearly done with his hair, and thanks to him, they gain some time back.

When Jeongguk is finished and Hoseok declares him perfect, Jimin freezes when he sees him. He already looks flawless on any given day, but like this Jeongguk looks otherworldly, ethereal even. His makeup is tastefully done, lips stained slightly darker than his natural color. Half of his hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, the strands brushed away from his face and highlighting his features.

He looks stunning.

Jeongguk makes his way over to sit next to Jimin, snatching his blended drink off of the coffee table and shaking it lightly before he snorts.

“I see you’ve been helping yourself,” he grumbles with an amused smirk and Jimin snaps out of his daze with a shrug, watching as the younger man takes a long drink. 

“What’s yours is mine, and all that,” he mutters, frowning back down at his numerous messages, desperate for a distraction. 

“What time do rehearsals start tomorrow?”

Jimin quickly switches over to his calendar and checks the schedule. 

“Three. Before that you have a boxing session at eleven and then the gym rented out from noon to one.”

“Why so early,” he whines, and Jimin flashes him an unimpressed look. 

“You chose the time. Besides, eleven isn’t even early, you just stay up as late as possible. 

“It’s the only time I get to be who I want to be.”

Jimin doesn’t know what to say to that weighted sentence, so he stays quiet, reaching his hand down to give Jeongguk’s knee a comforting squeeze, feeling warmth spread through him when Jeongguk's hand covers his own. 

They don’t have to wait much longer before Heyi comes back, a clipboard secured under her arm and a pen tucked behind one ear. 

“They’re ready for you, if you want to follow me.”

Jeongguk turns to Jimin, his eyes widening in the way they always do when he’s about to ask for something. 

“Come with me?”

Jimin’s brow creases in confusion at the request, since he always tags along during these types of things. 

“Of course.”

They both get up and follow Heyi towards the door, Inha silently shadowing them as well. Hoseok and Shinhye remain in the dressing room, enjoying their short break until they’re needed again. Heyi leads them out of the corridor and into the open area of the studio. She stops at a group of chairs in front of the viewing monitor and taps a man on the shoulder. 

When he looks over at them he immediately stands with a smile, his personality seemingly welcoming. 

“Jeongguk-ssi, this is Kim Changmo, the director for the shoot.”

“Gamdognim,” Jeongguk bows politely, addressing him as his title, and Jimin let’s out the breath he was holding.

“Happy to meet you, Jeongguk-ssi. I’ve seen and heard great things from you. And who’s this,” he asks, looking directly at Jimin, before his gaze takes in Inha.

“Park Jimin,” he answers for himself with a polite bow of his own. “I’m Jeongguk’s manager. And that’s Seo Inha, Jeongguk’s bodyguard. 

Changmo hums in understanding. “Glad to meet you all. For the most part, I’ll be sat back here, monitoring the shots and making sure everything runs smoothly. I’m sure you’ve done this enough times to know how this goes. If you need anything or want to review shots, just let the photographer know and come on back.”

“Thank you. Please take care of me.”

Changmo inclines his head and goes back to his chair behind the monitor, motioning for Heyi. She guides Jeongguk to the set, introducing him to another man who is undoubtedly the photographer, a large, rather expensive looking camera carefully cradled in his hands.  

Jimin watches him explain the type of mood they’re going for, and then attempts to give Jeongguk suggestions on what poses to try. 

A lot of people find the rockstar hard to read, claiming he’s always so stoic, but to Jimin, Jeongguk’s feelings are like an open book, and right now he’s irritated, clearly unreceptive to any advice given. He'll be difficult for sure.

Before the shooting starts, Hoseok appears wearing a waist pouch, some powder in hand, ready to touch Jeongguk up so his makeup appears flawless on camera. Once he moves away, the photographer does a test shot, checking with the director that all is well.

And then the shoot is in full swing. 

Jeongguk has always been able to pull off smouldering as if he was born doing it. He’s effortlessly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that captivates people. Jimin can see the shots show up on the monitor, and he knows they’re good, that the cover and the spread will turn out well. He even has hope that they'll finish early. 

But then the photographer starts going a little too overboard and that hope shrivels and dies.

“Good, Jeongguk-ssi, good. Now tilt your head to the right. No, my right. Yes, perfect. Can you open your eyes a little wider? I’m looking for vulnerability, showing the real you.”

Jimin watches as Jeongguk’s expression does not change, and he’s torn between humor and horror as the studio becomes unnaturally quiet. 

The photographer takes it all in stride, though, directing him to try another pose just as Jimin feels a tap on his shoulder.    

Shinhye is standing there, a look of anxiety pinching her pretty features. She’s clutching her phone against her chest, and Jimin already knows who it is. Fuck, he can’t believe he forgot. 

He raises one brow at her, checking to see if his suspicion is correct. 

‘Soohan,’ she mouths, and Jimin closes his eyes, keeping in the groan that wants so badly to escape. He only allows himself a second of self-pity, then nods resolutely and motions for the phone. Moving slightly away from the shoot so as not to be a distraction, he lifts the mobile to his ear.

“Soohan-ssi, how can I help you today?”

“Park. You can start by explaining to me why the assistants at Time magazine felt it necessary to call the company in search of your charge.”

“Unfortunately we ran a little late. We hit the lunch hour traffic.”

“Isn’t it your job to account for that?”

“It is,” Jimin agrees, trying to keep from grinding his teeth in frustration. 

“Don’t you think your continuous ineptitude is only going to negatively affect Jeongguk in the long run? Do you know how fast word spreads in this industry? He just won a grammy. That's what he should be known for when people talk about him. The last thing he needs is to be labeled as unprofessional, or high-maintenance.”

Jimin lets those words sink in, watching as Jeongguk outright refuses to pose the way the photographer wants him to.

“I completely understand, Soohan-ssi,” he murmurs, feeling a familiar dread start to build up in the pit of his stomach. 

“Do you? Because I don’t think you realize just how many complaints we’ve received about him in the past couple of weeks alone. It won’t be long before someone goes to the media.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not. I’m a busy man, Park. Don’t make me schedule a meeting to discuss your future with our company.”

Jimin bites back his retort, but only just. 

Technically, he’s employed by Jeongguk, not the entertainment company, but there’s no doubt that if they wanted to, they could make both of their lives difficult. He looks up at Jeongguk then, taken aback when he sees that instead of paying attention to the photographer; who's attempting to direct him, he’s staring right at Jimin, brow furrowed and an obvious question in his gaze. He can tell Jimin’s upset, and because of this Jimin quickly turns away.

“I won’t, I...hello?”

The line is already dead. 

“Fucker,” Jimin mutters, walking back over to Shinhye and handing her her phone. He shakes his head at her inquisitive look, trying; and probably failing, to hide how affected he is. 

After a moment, he explains, needing to talk about it with someone.

“The gist of the conversation was him telling me my job is in jeopardy.” 

Shinhye splutters.

“He can’t do that. Jeongguk would never let them.”

“They can’t technically fire me, but they could do a lot worse. Especially to him,” he says, inclining his head towards Jeongguk. He’s still watching him. Still refusing to cooperate with the photographer.

Shinhye sighs, sounding about as worn out as he feels. 

“I hope he realises how much you deal with just so he doesn’t have to.”

“I don’t want him to worry.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with everything alone. If he knew, I’m sure he’d be more understanding-”

Jimin shakes his head adamantly.

“He already has enough on his plate. Besides, I’m not doing it alone. I have you, don’t I?”

“Of course you do. You always do. But while you worry about him, I worry about you.”

Jimin gives her a warm smile, gently knocking his shoulder against hers. She snorts before they drop the issue entirely. 

Jimin tries to go back to watching the shoot, but just as he does, he sees Jeongguk walking off set and coming towards him. 

Fuck if he doesn’t need this right now.

“Of course, you probably want to check the shots,” the photographer calls after him, taking everything with a grain of salt. Jimin finds it admirable, honestly. 

But Jeongguk bypasses the monitor with his photos and goes straight for Jimin. He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of him, Shinhye rushing off to give them some privacy. 

“What’s wrong?”

Jimin blinks up at him in confusion.

“You mean besides you being rude to the photographer and walking off your own shoot?”

“Don’t bullshit me, I saw your face earlier while you were on the phone. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing gets past you,” Jimin mutters, attempting not to squirm at the unimpressed glare aimed his way. “It was just the company, Jeongguk-ah. They were reminding me about some last minute schedule changes, that’s all.”

He hates lying, especially to Jeongguk, so he gives a half-truth instead, hoping that he’ll let it go. Jeongguk still looks at him like he doesn’t buy it, but he graciously doesn't press the issue, Moving past him and back towards the corridor instead of the set. 

“Where are you going,” Jimin calls, trying not to let his anxiety flare up. Behind him the photographer sounds like he’s going to cry.

“Bathroom,” Jeongguk says over his shoulder. “Drank too much coffee.”

-

The shoot lasts for nearly three agonizing hours. With each outfit change, Jeongguk’s makeup and hair are redone as well. By the second outfit, the photographer gives up on giving Jeongguk directions and just lets him do what he pleases. 

Jimin feels sorry for him, seeing a bit of himself in his weary attitude by the end of it all. 

While Jeongguk reviews the shots with the director, Jimin makes his way back to the dressing room, catching Hoseok as he packs up. 

“That was painful,” the older man chuckles, and Jimin couldn’t agree more. 

“Thought the poor guy was gonna burst into tears a few times,” he sighs, collapsing into the same chair he sat in while Hoseok did his makeup.

“Remember how sweet he used to be," Hoseok reminisces. "Why’s he acting so cold these days?”

Jimin presses his fingers into his eyes and silently contemplates that question. 

“Wish I knew for sure, but he won’t talk to me. It’s like he’s closed himself off.”

“I’m surprised, usually he tells you everything,” Hoseok frowns, and Jimin feels an intense sadness take hold of him. 

“I kinda feel like I’ve failed him, hyung. Like...maybe I missed something important and now I’m dealing with the fallout.”

“Don’t you dare,” Hoseok reprimands, wrapping a soothing hand around the back of Jimin’s neck and giving a gentle squeeze. “It’s not your job to fix everything for him, Jimin-ah. When he’s ready, he’ll tell you what’s on his mind. He loves you too much to keep it from you. It's probably why he's throwing a fit. Doesn't know how to handle whatever it is alone.”

Jimin gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, hoping that he’s right. 

It’s been weeks already.

Hoseok resumes packing away his things as the door opens, revealing Jeongguk and Inha. The magazine is scheduled to send over someone to conduct the interview soon, and until then there's nothing to do but wait.

Jeongguk is wearing the athletic wear that they utilized for the final set—a boxing concept—and it’s easy to tell he likes the clothes since instead of rushing to change, he moves swiftly towards the couches, collapsing onto the cushions with a groan and picking up his forgotten coffee. Jimin watches his nose scrunch up as he takes a drink, probably watered down after all this time. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” Hoseok calls, tossing a package of wipes at the younger man when he’s close enough. Jeongguk catches it easily, his eyes lighting up when he sees what it is. 

“They’ve got that oil in them, so it’ll be easier to remove your makeup.”

“Thanks, hyung,” he says gratefully, and Jimin tries not to feel bitter that Jeongguk has no problem calling other people ‘hyung.'

“Keep ‘em, I have tons. I’m leaving first. See you tomorrow for dress rehearsal.”

They all say their goodbyes, the dressing room becoming quieter with his departure. 

When the interviewer arrives, Jimin keeps yawning every other second, his eyes getting that familiar watery blurriness they always do when he’s exhausted. 

The interview itself goes about as well as the photoshoot. The questions are boring and generic the way interview questions usually are, and in turn Jeongguk gives generic answers that he refuses to elaborate on. The only time he sheds his apathy is when he's asked about his latest single, 'Tastes Like Obscenity,' but even then, it's short lived. 

In contrast, the interviewer; Lee Dongwook, seems completely enamoured with Jeongguk, hanging off of his every sparse word as if he’s explaining the meaning of life. 

"Can you describe to me the inspiration for the song. What you felt when you wrote it."

Jeongguk raises a brow at him, the corner or his lip turning up in amusement for the first time since the interview started.

"It's pretty self-explanatory."

"True," Dongwook agrees with a coy smirk, turning up his charms as he eyes Jeongguk with a heavy gaze, lids lowered. "But I was hoping for a small synopsis in your own words."

Wow, way to be obvious.

Jeongguk's eyes shine the way they always do when he's about to cause trouble, his grin only growing.

"It's about wanting to fu-"

"Maybe this isn't the best question for the article," Jimin interrupts, ignoring Dongwook's glare and doing his best to convey with his eyes that Jeongguk needs to behave.

The rockstar only beams at him in response. 

"I suppose," Dongwook concedes, clearly not happy about it. "Can you at least tell me what inspired the song. Maybe there's a certain someone in your life?"

They're not supposed to ask questions like this. The magazine asked for a list of approved topics and Jimin is always adamant that these types of questions are not allowed. Jeongguk's love life isn't up for discussion.

He's about to remind Dongwook of that when Jeongguk's eyes stare into him, and he feels stuck, rooted to the spot and unsure what to do or say to cut short the sudden intense awkwardness of the moment. It doesn't last for very long, Jeongguk looking away and back at the other man, but it's enough to have his heart beating frantically in his chest.

"I just wanted to write a song like this," Jeongguk finally answers, his tone bored, yet convincing enough. "Something completely different from how Aurum usually sounds. I wanted to see how the fans would react to a slower paced and sensual track, and it's great that they've been so supportive."

"It's an amazing song," Dongwook agrees, running his tongue across his bottom lip in a bold display. "It's definitely my favorite."

Jimin quiets the familiar feeling of jealousy he gets when others show interest in Jeongguk. It's not like it's a rare occurrence, and he knows better, just as he knows he has no right to feel this way. He repeats that truth like a mantra in his head as he makes a note on his phone to ready another NDA form. 

Dongwook is laying it on thick. The way he's practically throwing himself at the rockstar is telling enough of how this is going to go.

Strangely though, when the interview wraps up and Dongwook asks for an autograph, Jeongguk merely gives him one. He doesn't take the bait when the man brushes their fingers together as he passes a pen, ignores the looks of clear interest he gives, and shuts down his attempts at further conversation by bidding him farewell without so much as a backwards glance.

Jimin breaks out of his shock and follows after him outside of the studio in a daze, feeling confusion take hold of his thoughts. This doesn’t happen all that often. The man was attractive, definitely qualifying as Jeongguk’s type, and Jeongguk never turns down people like him. Though wanted by millions, it's not exactly easy for him to have relationships, let alone sex like a regular person. Dongwook was practically offering himself up on a silver platter, and yet Jeongguk refused, without even taking down his number for a later date.

Jimin thinks it over as he escorts Shinhye to her car, promising to text if he needs anything done before the morning and thanking her for her hard work. By the time he makes his way back, Jeongguk and Inha are already climbing into the familiar black vehicle that just pulled up, Sejin smiling behind the wheel.

It’s almost completely dark out, and all Jimin wants is to forget his racing thoughts, go home and crawl into bed. 

When he slides into the backseat, Jeongguk is rubbing his temples, brow creased in pain.

“Headache?”

“Had it for hours and it’s only getting worse,” he mumbles, and Jimin can’t help the eyeroll he gives. 

“You could’ve told me,” he huffs, reaching into his bag and rummaging around. He carries pain reliever for situations like this, divvying out two pills into Jeongguk’s waiting palm, and watching the pout that takes over his lips as he swallows them down with a bottle of water. 

The next thing Jimin knows, he’s got Jeongguk’s head nestling in his lap, without so much as a warning.

He looks around for potential witnesses, as if the windows aren't tinted. Sejin and Inha don't care. Still, he feels like they're doing something compromising.

“What-”

“Can you rub my head?”

This isn’t in my job description, Jimin wants to say just to be difficult, but he’s always been gone for the man, probably babied him too much when he was younger and pays the price for it now. It’s kinda funny though, in an infuriating kind of way, how Jeongguk rests his head in his lap like a docile kitten after making his job infinitely harder and putting others through the ringer, like that poor photographer. 

Tentatively, he cards his fingers through the strands of Jeongguk’s long, dark hair, tacky from all the hairspray and gel, gently rubbing across his scalp. For his own sake, he tries to drown out the sounds of appreciation Jeongguk lets out, concentrating instead on alleviating his headache. 

When Jeongguk whimpers, Jimin becomes concerned.

“You okay?”

“Fucking hurts,” he hisses.

“Probably because you had so much caffeine for the first time in weeks, on an empty stomach, too.”

“Don’t gloat,” he mutters with a scathing gaze that doesn't bother Jimin in the slightest. "This is all your fault. Why'd you let me drink coffee," he demands, nuzzling into Jimin’s upper thigh. 

Jimin tries not to tense up, ‘relax’ repeating over and over in his mind. 

“Oh yes, I forced you to buy that damn drink,” he scoffs, continuing to rub soothing circles along Jeongguk’s brow, even as he carries on with his infuriating attitude. "I distinctly recall telling you this would happen and that you would blame me, so I'll gloat all I want. You would do it to me."

“You’re better than me, though,” the younger man says absently with a sigh, and Jimin stares down at him, taken aback by his sincerity. “Today was shit,” Jeongguk groans. “I hate that kind of stuff. It’s so pointless.”

“Promotional work is not pointless. It’s how we get your name and face out to the general public.”

“Thought everyone already knew my name. Grammy winner Jeon Jeongguk, pride of Korea,” He mutters sarcastically. “I just wanna perform.”

“You’re literally performing in less than two days.”

“Let’s go on tour again,” Jeongguk suddenly proposes excitedly, and Jimin can’t help but laugh.

“We just wrapped up your last world tour. You’re almost done with your circuit, then work on your next album begins.”

Jeongguk snorts without amusement, a fiery look in his eyes as he stares off.

“Everything is so...inorganic. I just wanna sing,” he whispers, and Jimin's heart breaks a little, but he doesn’t know how to console him.

They’re quiet the rest of the way home, Inha and Jimin following Jeongguk up to his apartment. 

Jimin goes inside, Inha goes home. 

Jeongguk still looks out of it, rubbing at his head and blinking his eyes as if he’s having trouble seeing. 

“I ordered food, should be here soon. I know you don’t feel well but it’ll probably help if you eat something,” Jimin suggests, disbelief running through him when; for once, instead of fighting him on it, Jeongguk only nods. 

“You need anything?”

When the singer looks at him next, his eyes are so big it makes him look far too young, like the doe-eyed boy Jimin met all those years ago, dreams just as big and the talent to match. 

“Stay with me?”

“Jeongguk-” Jimin starts, uneasy. They haven’t crossed any lines, not yet, and not for lack of trying on Jeongguk’s part, but Jimin is aware that this is a recipe for disaster. The desire is there, along with the attraction and the right kind of tension. But the look of panic that flashes over Jeongguk’s face makes him want to throw caution to the wind and assure him everything is going to be okay. That whatever they're about to do won't change them.

“We can just lay down and watch something, like we used to do,” he suggests, earnest.

He looks vulnerable, and Jimin feels dizzy that he’s allowed to see Jeongguk this way, that he trusts him enough to give him this glimpse beyond the wall when he trusts so few.

“Alright,” he hears himself agree, and Jimin can’t even regret it. 

When the food arrives, Jeongguk's nose scrunches up at his veggie plate with sparse pieces of plain, unseasoned bulgogi.

"What," Jimin asks, noticing his unimpressed expression. "Did you want something else?" He's already got his phone out, pulling up menus when Jeongguk answers.

"You couldn't have ordered samgyeopsal or naengmyeon," he complains like a child, and Jimin gives him a stern look.

"I ordered you food that fits in the perimeters of your diet. You already had coffee."

"You had coffee too."

"I'm not on a diet."

"We could make it a cheat day."

"No."

Jeongguk is quiet, looking away and pulling out his phone, gaze serious as he taps on the screen. Jimin is positive he's ordering whatever he wants anyways, just to spite him. 

He doesn't have to wonder what he's doing for long, though, as the penthouse is suddenly filled with music playing through the bluetooth sound system he has set up. It's one of Aurum's sad rock ballads and as soon as Jimin recognizes it he squeezes his eyes shut and whines. 

"Not this shit again," he mutters, fighting the urge to bang his head on the counter. 

"Nice to know what you really think of the song you inspired," Jeongguk huffs, expression overly morose to be taken seriously as he sings along to his lyrics. 

"A whole song about getting your heart broken because I wouldn't let you have chicken. Like you didn't explicitly tell me not to let you have it! 'No matter what happens, Jimin, no matter how much I beg, don't break,'" he recites, remembering how hard it was for Jeongguk to stick to his very first diet. 

Still is, apparently. 

"You're cruel." 

" I'm cruel ? For listening to you? Even though whenever I give in the first thing you do is complain and blame me," Jimin seethes, wanting nothing more than to throttle the singer as he calmly shakes his head.

"I don't do that."

"You did it tonight in the car on the way over here."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh huh."

Jeongguk stops complaining, but he keeps the music on as they eat in silence, Jimin making sure he gets enough, even if it means giving up some of his portion. Tomorrow is dress rehearsal, and then it’s the concert. Jeongguk is going to need all the strength he can get.

Once they’re both full, they clean up after themselves quickly. Something thick, like anticipation and uncertainty sits heavily in the air, neither one of them seeming to know what to do. Jeongguk moves first, meeting his gaze and motioning for him to follow. 

They bypass the living room and go straight for the master bedroom, Jimin's nerves escalating.

“Do you wanna shower first,” Jeongguk asks tentatively, and it’s strange how he almost appears shy and unsure of himself, a glimpse of the boy he was when Jimin first befriended him. 

“You go ahead, wash all that hairspray out of your hair, just don’t take an hour,” Jimin answers, hoping it'll lighten the mood and put him more at ease. When Jeongguk flashes him a real, full smile, he knows he’s succeeded.

“I’ll be fast,” he promises softly and disappears through the attached door. 

Jimin sits on the edge of the giant bed and collapses in on himself, zoning out while he waits. Maybe less than ten minutes pass when Jeongguk exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wearing nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants that look like they were once black, but were washed enough times for the color to fade. 

His hair is still wet, little drops collecting on the ends only to fall to the bare skin of his chest, tracing the indented skin of his muscles...

“Here,” Jeongguk says, snapping Jimin out of his inappropriate musings as he digs through his dresser. Jimin watches him hold up a white threadbare tee in consideration, clearly deeming it okay, and adding gray sweatpants and some underwear before offering them to Jimin. 

“They’ll be a little big on you, but they’re clean and comfortable."

“Thank you,” Jimin murmurs as he gets up to accept the clothes. 

Thinking about it now, though, it would’ve been far more logical for him to go down to his own apartment, shower there and come back. 

He tells himself it’s because Jeongguk’s shower is the very definition of a hedonistic experience that he absolutely doesn't want to miss out on. The thing is controlled with a screen built into the wall instead of levers or taps. Jeongguk showed him how to work it when they first moved in, so Jimin goes through the options quickly, picking the temperature of the water and turning it up to almost the highest possible heat setting before making sure every showerhead is on. He feels a bit bad about wasting water, but tells himself it's okay because he won't be long.

Once satisfied, he strips off his clothing, opens the glass door and lets the day get washed down the drain. There’s a bench seat along the back wall, but Jimin doesn’t allow himself to sit down, afraid of the temptation it’ll bring to stay and doze, so he keeps on his feet and washes himself quickly.

Jimin kind of starts to understand why Jeongguk takes so long in here.

When he steps out, his skin is flushed and he feels unbelievably relaxed. As expected, the clothes are a little big on him, the shirt having the tendency to fall off of one shoulder, and the sweats have to be folded over at the waist at least three times. Jeongguk was right, though, they are comfortable and smell of freshly cleaned laundry. 

Before he leaves the bathroom, he runs a comb through his black hair, getting all the knots out and combing the strands away from his face. He eyes himself critically in the mirror, turning his head first to the left, then to the right. With a satisfied nod, he walks out into the bedroom. 

Jeongguk is laying on the left side of the bed, his hands cupped near his face and his legs tucked into himself. He pulls the covers back, patting the mattress in invitation and Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice. He climbs up onto his side quickly, sighing when Jeongguk replaces the blankets for him while he settles against the pillowy mattress.  

He’s got the menu of some streaming service already open on the TV, and they both read over brief summaries of different shows together, searching for one that interests them. 

Jeongguk doesn’t tell people, but he loves a good drama.

He starts the first episode of the one they both think sounds decent, and in silent agreement, they gravitate into each other’s space, Jeongguk resting his head over Jimin’s heart and Jimin once more carding his fingers through the still slightly damp strands of Jeongguk’s hair.

Somehow, they manage to stay awake through three whole episodes, both of them doing a running commentary of their own over the actual dialogue as they poke fun at the plot, or cringe and groan when the characters do something embarrassing. Like this, it feels like nothings changed. They’re the same Jimin and Jeongguk they were before life started getting overly complicated. At least, Jimin wants to pretend that they are, that for once, all is normal again, but he’s pulled from the fantasy before he can immerse himself fully.

“You realize that all of their problems could literally be solved with a basic conversation,” Jeongguk mumbles sleepily against his side, making Jimin shiver as the heat of his breath sinks into the thin material of his shirt. 

Jimin almost laughs, but then the words start to sink in.

It’s ironic, in a way, hearing Jeongguk say this when he’s tried countless times to broach the subject of what’s going on with the singer. All Jimin wants to do is talk about it, clear the air on why he’s suddenly closed himself off and started acting out.

But Jeongguk doesn’t want to have that conversation.

At least not yet, and Jimin can only continue to be there for him until he’s ready. He resumes his gentle massage on the younger man’s scalp, humming in acknowledgement of what he’s said.

“But then what would we watch,” Jimin whispers, smiling when he feels Jeongguk giggle against him. 

“You’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

Jeongguk laughs again, his nose tickling along Jimin's ribs as he deeply inhales.

“Mmm, you smell like me. And like you.”

Jimin snorts, tears of exhaustion filling up in his eyes and threatening to run down his cheeks. 

“Which one is it? Me or you?”

“You smell like us. I like it,” Jeongguk sighs, humming another sound of appreciation.

Jimin wraps his arms along his back and squeezes gently, holding him close. He allows the exhaustion to wash over him, feeling as if he’s being lulled to sleep. When he can’t deny it any longer, he succumbs to it, Jeongguk’s solid weight pressing into him, surrounding him, has Jimin falling asleep that much faster.

-

Jimin dreams of warmth and comfort, gentle fingertips tracing the length of his spine, causing a pleasant tingling sensation to spread across his skin as a sweet voice whispers in his ear.

“-imin-ah? Wake up, Jimin-ah.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, still mostly asleep, refusing to open his eyes in the hopes that that soft, warm dream will be waiting.

“I have to head to the gym, okay?”

“‘Kay...m’getting up,” he mumbles, making no move to do so.

He can hear Jeongguk chuckle, those gentle fingers brushing along the back of his neck and making him sigh.

“Stay here and sleep, okay? I’ll be back at around one.”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’ll stay?”

“Mmm.”

Jimin hears another soft chuckle before something light and soft presses against his hair near his temple, and then it’s gone. In the sudden quiet of the room, he finds his dream again.

-

When Jimin wakes up fully, he’s alone in Jeongguk’s bed. A glance at the clock resting on the nightstand tells him it’s ten minutes past eleven, which means Jeongguk went to his boxing session already. Funny how when Jimin’s off, Jeongguk suddenly knows how to wake himself up.  

No time to shake his head at it now, he has something important to see to before dress rehearsal starts.

Jimin gets up, brushing his teeth with the spare toothbrush the singer keeps for him before heading into the kitchen to snag a bottle of water. Something glimmering in the sink gives him pause.

It’s the damn grammy. The man literally left it in the sink next to his dirty dishes. 

Jimin fishes it out carefully, running warm water over the award and patting it dry with a dish towel. It’s ridiculous how many strange places he’s had to rescue this thing from. He mutters the whole way to the display case in the living room and carefully sets it down inside, where it belongs. 

Afterwards he grabs his shoes and the pile of yesterday’s clothes before heading back to his apartment to change. Once he’s ready, he double, then triple checks that everything is running smoothly and that the delivery truck is going to be on time. When he sees that it is, he orders a cab and heads to Seoul Arts School.

Once the taxi pulls up at the front gate, Jimin recognizes the music teacher, Lee Misuk, waiting on the steps, and even though it’s Lunch break, a handful of students wait with her, no doubt eager to see what he’s brought this time. 

“Jimin-ah,” She greets warmly when he goes to meet her, bowing to him in gratitude. Some of the students follow her lead, and Jimin can feel his cheeks turn pink. 

“It’s good to see you all again, noona,” he responds with a big smile, the smaller children staring up at him in awe. 

“What did you bring us,” a girl to his right calls, instantly chastised by her teacher. Jimin remembers her easily, Kim Yoonhe, a rambunctious thirteen-year-old that he actually kind of adores.

“As soon as the truck gets here I’ll show you,” he promises, kneeling down slightly so he can better look her in the eye. She glances up at her teacher, seeing if she’s paying any attention before deciding it safe to whisper.

“But couldn’t you tell me now?”

“Yoonhe!”

A noise from the street catches everyone’s attention, and the children celebrate as a moving truck pulls up in front of the school. Two men climb out of the bed, and Jimin and the rest of the children follow them around to the back, watching excitedly as they unlock the door and slide it up.

“Wow,” an amazed chorus rings out.

Inside are multiple guitars, drum sets, and bass guitars, as well as sound equipment and microphones. 

Jimin has always had a soft spot for children, seeing a lot of himself in the kids that pursue music, but often don’t have the financial resources to do so. He donates whenever he can, be it funds, or equipment that Aurum no longer uses. 

He looks down, feeling a gentle tug on the cuff of his sleeve. Yoonhe stares up at him.

“I thought that I wanted to play the drums, like Namjoon oppa, but I think I’m more of a bass kind of girl,” she admits looking gravely serious. Jimin nods solemnly. 

“I think Jeongguk would be happy to hear that.”

“Do you think he would sign one for me?”

“I think that can be arranged,” he promises quietly, feeling a genuine smile tug at his lips. 

“I’ve been practicing too,” Yoonhe continues, demonstrating her skills with an invisible bass.

“If you keep practicing I’m sure one day you’ll be playing stadiums,” he encourages, feeling his heart swell at the way her eyes shine.

Jimin oversees the unloading of the truck and makes sure every instrument and piece of equipment makes it safely to the school's music room. He watches the children play, losing track of time in their joy. When he checks his phone and sees that it’s almost one-thirty, he gives a hasty goodbye, feeling oddly emotional when all the children bid him farewell. 

He goes home, makes himself an easy lunch, then starts to pack and prepare for dress rehearsal. Though not as tedious as tech night, this is still going to be a runthrough of the show, and smoothing out any potential wrinkles takes time.

As he gathers his things, he gets a text from Jeongguk's trainer, inquiring why the singer was so sluggish during their session, and he groans, knowing that he likely already figured out that Jeongguk broke his diet. He doesn't want to lie, but he also doesn't want to sit through another lecture for something that's  not his fault, so he just doesn't answer. 

Sometimes it's best just to ignore potential problems.

Jimin makes sure he’s got everything he’ll need, then checks in with Shinhye to see how things at the venue are going. 

Shinhye 2:07pm - So far so good. The clothes arrived earlier this morning, Stylist got here an hour ago to sort through it all. Hair and makeup should be here in ten and the dressing room is up to standard of course. 

Jimin breathes a sigh of relief and once again instructs her to remind him to give her a raise. 

Just as he sends that message, he gets one from Sejin.

Sejin 2:09pm - We’re here

He puts his phone away and heads up to Jeongguk’s penthouse, startling when he lets himself in and sees Jeongguk sitting in the entryway, looking up at him blankly. He’s already got one boot on and is in the process of lacing up another.

“Oh, you’re ready,” Jimin says in surprise, frowning when Jeongguk simply goes back to putting on his shoes as if he hadn’t been interrupted. Jimin’s eyes fall to the ground, catching on a familiar hint of gold.

Jeongguk shoved his grammy in the top of one of his boots. Jimin leaves it, making a mental note to rescue it later. 

When Jeongguk is finished with his shoes, he makes his way out the door without a backwards glance and Jimin feels a little thrown off. He can’t reconcile the sweet, affectionate Jeongguk of last night with this one, once more his usual closed-off self which has become the norm these days. 

He decides not to question it and follows after him, grateful to be leaving on time for once. 

It’s quiet on the way to the car, just as it’s quiet on the way to the venue. Jimin doesn’t know what’s wrong, but whatever it is, he feels like he’s somehow the cause of Jeongguk’s mood. He wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to risk the possibility of making things worse. If they go through an argument now, they’ll have to wait till the end of dress rehearsal to try and settle things.

He’ll wait for Jeongguk to come to him.

The venue is chaotic when they arrive. Staff rush about, looking frazzled as they work to complete whatever task they've been given. Jimin leads Jeongguk to the dressing room, able to hear the reverberations of the band's instruments being adjusted for soundcheck. 

Yoongi and Namjoon are already inside, grabbing something quick to eat before rehearsal starts. Jeongguk joins them, eyeing the food almost ravenously, and Jimin doesn’t have it in him to remind the singer about his dietary restrictions.

Jimin sets his bag down in the pile of everyone else’s belongings, absently wondering where Shinhye is when he feels a tap on his shoulder. 

“Tae,” Jimin exclaims with a big smile as he’s pulled into a hug. “It’s been awhile.”

“I saw you last week, silly,” he murmurs fondly into his hair, and Jimin feels his body relax, his friend always managing to comfort him with his presence. 

“Was it only last week? Feels like it’s been a lot longer.”

“You work too much,” Tae huffs, and Jimin can’t help but laugh.

“You work just as much as me. Did all the clothes arrive okay?”

“With the exception of an accessory or two,” Taehyung answers with an eye roll, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Do you want to show me,” Jimin asks, seeing the excited gleam in Taehyung’s eyes when he emphatically nods. 

Tae does love showing off the clothes he’s found.

There’s only two outfits per each member, one for the main show and one for the four song encore. The first outfit consists of mostly black. Yoongi has a rough looking jacket with dull spikes adorning the shoulders, while Namjoon has a long duster with shiny black riding boots that come up to mid-calf. Jeongguk; of course, has a jacket and pants leather set with a simple black tank top. 

“He was adamant about his clothes, you don’t know how many pictures and samples I sent to him before I got him to agree,” Taehyung laments, making Jimin crack another smile.

“Sounds like him,” he agrees softly, his eyes already taking in the second; and in his opinion, far more eye-catching ensemble.

The clothes almost look as if they’re made of silk, appearing soft and smooth, easily catching the light. They’re all matching sets, Yoongi’s an emerald green, the jacket almost reaching the floor. Namjoon’s is a deep purple color, but his jacket is a more conventional length, probably falling just above the hips. Jeongguk’s is a vibrant red, the top falling to maybe mid-thigh. All of the shirts are different variations of animal print and seem to be made of silk as well.

“They’re beautiful, Taehyung-ah,” Jimin says in awe, brushing a careful hand along the red of Jeongguk’s suit, worried that he’ll ruin it somehow if he presses too hard. 

“They better be after all the artistic direction I had to put up with,” he grumbles, eyes flashing to where Jeongguk is guzzling down ramen.

“Isn’t he on a diet?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jimin sighs, giving a slight shake of his head and trying to ignore the way Taehyung suddenly appraises him.

“Is he still giving you lip?”

Jimin can’t help but snort on his laughter, Taehyung’s own serious expression melting into a boxy smile. 

“He has been increasingly difficult, but I'm sure there are numerous underlying issues. He's just being stubborn and trying to handle it all on his own,” Jimin admits once he’s gotten his amusement under control.

"How is he being difficult," Tae wonders, curiously. "Hoseok hyung said he didn't want to listen to the photographer yesterday."

Jimin nods at that. He doesn’t know how to explain it really, afraid he’ll get his words mixed up, but at Taehyung’s expression; clearly eager to understand, he tries.

“You know how there are things that are expected of him in his line of work? Things he doesn’t like doing but goes along with because he has to ?”

“Like dieting and photoshoots?” Taehyung asks with a quirked brow, and at Jimin’s emphatic nod he gives him a sympathetic look.

“Ever since the grammy’s he’s become less inclined to go along with the status quo.”

Jimin watches Tae quietly think it over for a moment, one arm hugging his own chest and supporting the other so his hand can clutch his chin.

Jimin thinks he looks adorable.

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” he says suddenly, and intrigued, Jimin asks him to elaborate.

“How so?”

“Aurum is the first Korean group to win a grammy, let alone be nominated for one. They’re the hottest thing in the country right now. And like you said, Jeongguk has been putting up with a lot since signing on with the company. Maybe it’s about time he threw his own weight around. Made some changes so he’s happier.”

“He tells me all the time he just wants to sing, but just as you said, he’s the hottest thing in the country right now. The company wants to take advantage of that to make money. Endorsements, commercials, merchandise, magazines…I highly doubt they’d let all of that go.”

“Maybe not all, but they could definitely agree on a limit. Like three endorsements a year, or whatever. I’m sure they would agree if he threatened to find another company. He’s rich enough to buy out his contract,” Taehyung finishes with a shrug, and Jimin almost wants to kiss him, he’s so brilliant. 

“I’ll try and run it by him, see what he says. You’re a genius.”

“I know,” he grins, going back to straightening up the clothes on their hangers. “Hoseok was looking for you earlier, by the way.”

Jimin ruffles his hair, smiling at Taehyung’s irritated, “Ahh,” at having the strands mussed. 

When he finds Hoseok setting up at his station he flashes Jimin that look he gets when he’s about to tell him something he knows he doesn’t want to hear.

“What’s wrong,” Jimin asks worriedly.

Hoseok has a curling iron in one hand, and Jimin hopes it’s not on as he gestures with it wildly. 

“I got a call from Soohan today.”

Jimin instantly feels his stomach drop.

“And,” he asks, trying not to show his trepidation.

“He made one of those suggestions that’s not really a suggestion. For the concert he said Jeongguk should showcase a new hair color.”

Jimin's eyes slide closed, a hint of a migraine forming near his temple.

“We’ve talked about this with him before.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. I tried to tell him that, but he just talked over me and gave a few color suggestions.”

“When does he expect us to do this? His hair isn't even bleached. He couldn’t have made the suggestion earlier than dress rehearsal? The concert’s tomorrow,” Jimin vents unnecessarily. Hoseok is already aware of all this, and it’s far from his fault. 

“I told him I would try, but I was already banking on a refusal. You want me to just let him know it's not happening?”

“Let me go ask, just so the denial is authentic,” Jimin mutters, walking towards Jeongguk as he works on what looks to be his second ramen. He takes a tentative seat next to him, feeling nervous when Jeongguk doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. 

He decides it's best to just get this over with.

“How do we feel about dying our hair?”

Jeongguk still doesn’t meet his gaze, but at least he answers him.

“You asked me this question a month ago.”

“Your answer might be different today.”

“It’s not,” he says before slurping up a ridiculous amount of noodles. “That shit hurts my scalp,” he complains with his mouth full. “You can tell the company it’s my hair , and I told them to go fuck themselves.”

“Well I can’t tell them that,” Jimin mutters, a pout gracing his lips.

“I’ll tell them myself,” Jeongguk swears, suddenly reanimating as he pulls his phone out of his pocket to make good on his threat. 

Jimin moves to stop him, gently grabbing the singer’s wrist and getting slightly distracted when he sees that his fingers can’t even encircle it fully. Jeongguk, likewise, seems taken aback, his bright, wide eyes finally meeting Jimin’s.

“I’ll take care of it,” Jimin promises, his tone slightly pleading. Jeongguk stares at him for a moment longer, his eyes flying across his face as if he’s cataloguing his features. Jimin can’t help but blush when that intense gaze settles on his mouth. 

“K-keep eating. I’ll let them know,” Jimin reassures, quickly gaining his feet and making his way back to Hoseok.

“He respectfully declines.”

Hoseok snorts and shakes his head in amusement, continuing to organize cosmetics and hair products.

“Yoongi-yah,” he suddenly yells, and Jimin winces at the unexpectedness of his booming voice. 

“A little warning next time,” he mutters, wanting to laugh at the scathing look Hoseok sends his way.

“I’ve got three people to get ready and a time limit.”

“Fair enough.”

Yoongi shuffles his way over, the guitarist looking calm and put together the way he always does. 

“You called?”

“You’re up,” Hoseok reveals, using that curling iron again to point at his chair.

Yoongi collapses down into it, looking content to sit there for as long as it takes, and Jimin has missed his easy attitude, not for the first time feeling regret that he doesn’t manage all of them the way he used to when Aurum was first starting out. Before they got too big that they needed multiple managers and PA’s and drivers and staff…

“Stop,” Yoongi suddenly orders, using the mirror to look at Jimin with the one eye he has cracked open. “I can hear you thinking. You do enough as it is.”

Jimin has no idea how Yoongi does that. How he always seems to just know what's bothering him, but for some reason it makes him oddly emotional.

“I don’t feel like it sometimes,” he admits in a rare moment of vulnerability, something that Yoongi is good at bringing out in people. Hoseok is kind enough to let them have this impromptu conversation, silently beginning work on the guitarist’s hair. 

“What more do you think you should be doing that you don’t already take care of?”

Jimin opens his mouth to tell him, to explain how if he was better, more efficient, he could take on everything he used to. He could help Yoongi and Namjoon with their schedules, and still manage to stay by Jeongguk’s side. But even he knows that’s not possible. They’re too busy now, too in demand. He just hates feeling like he abandoned them.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Yoongi claims with a fond look. “You take care of enough, including the kid. But you don’t think much about taking care of yourself.”

Jimin meets his gaze in the mirror, unsure of what to say. 

“You do enough,” Yoongi reiterates, expression brooking no room for argument.

“I’m going to hug you as soon as you’re out of that chair, hyung” Jimin promises, and the guitarist immediately feigns looking put off.

“I live here now.”

Jimin can’t stop the laugh that breaks past his lips, the older man’s company comforting and delighting him in equal parts. He makes a note to try and spend some time with him once he’s free.

When he turns back to look for Shinhye, he catches Jeongguk staring at him, the singer giving him a peculiar look that Jimin can’t quite place before looking away, going back to his food. 

Jimin forces himself to forget it, and goes to locate his assistant. 

He finds her near the stage, talking to one of the CO’s, clearly directing him to a different part of the auditorium. They’re filming tonight’s rehearsal as well as tomorrow’s concert to be sold as a DVD at a later date, so on top of everything they already need to deal with, camera operators have also been added to that long list. Jimin waits until she’s done, watching the CO follow her instructions before he approaches.

“You don’t have to do all this, you know,” he reassures. 

“I know, but I was bored and needed a way to get rid of this nervous energy. Unless you need me. Do you need me?”

“I need you to breathe,” Jimin counters, looking at her softly as she attempts to do just that.”

“Thank you, oppa. I forget sometimes.”

“Just like you forget that I’ve told you before to call me Jimin?”

“I didn’t forget, I’m just not listening. It’s bad enough you won’t let me call you sajangnim.”

Jimin can’t help but grin, shaking his head at her as she returns the smile.

“Everything going smoothly?”

“Lighting is set up, but Jiho told me the soundboard is giving him problems. He’s assured me it’s nothing he can’t fix.”

“You could run this whole place you know,” Jimin compliments, in awe of how efficient and hard-working she is. Shinhye beams at the praise, shuffling her feet slightly like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

“Maybe someday, but you keep giving me raises, and I enjoy being your assistant.”

“I hope so. The day you move on to better things is the day I retire, I think.”

Shinhye bumps into him gently and they both make their way back to the dressing room. Jimin makes sure the mic packs and in-ears have been checked while Shinhye takes over setting up the camera feed so it's streaming through the Large TV that’s mounted on the wall. 

Jimin passes his time this way, checking with staff, helping where he can and completing mundane, but essential tasks. It goes by quickly, and before he knows it, Hoseok is finished with each member, and they’re already changed into their first outfits. 

He makes his way to Jeongguk with his mic pack and in-ears, and the singer nods for him to continue, allowing Jimin to go through with their prestage routine. He hands Jeongguk the in-ears, holding onto the cord as Jeongguk works them in. Once finished, Jimin pulls his shirt off of his back and threads the cord through, catching it when it’s past the hem so he can plug it into the mic pack, clipping it onto the waist of his leather pants. When he moves back around, Jeongguk gives him a thumbs up, signaling that they’re working fine.

Once Namjoon and Yoongi are hooked up, Jimin follows them to the stage, picking a front row seat to comfortably watch the performance. 

They each inspect their instruments, both Jeongguk and Yoongi strumming and tuning their bass and guitar respectfully, while Namjoon makes some minor adjustments to his drums.   

“Ah, ah, one two three. Are we good?” Jeongguk asks into his mic, and when both sound and lighting give the signal Namjoon counts them in and the first song begins.

It’s loud in the concert hall, but Jimin is used to it, and Aurum always sounds amazing. The set list is long, Jeongguk insisting on performing as many songs as he could get away with, and even though it’ll be physically taxing the way it always is, Jimin knows it’ll make him and his fans happy.

Jeongguk loves to perform, and it shows, even in dress rehearsal to an audience of one.

In all the world, there’s nothing quite like Jeongguk’s voice. Jimin thinks he could search for something comparable and never find it. He’s always been talented, part of his rise to the top can be accredited to that, but there’s also his drive for perfection, and the way he’s never satisfied with himself. Always aiming higher. But hearing him sing like this, Jimin will never stop believing that there’s anything better. Nothing could even come close.

Time always goes by quickly when Aurum performs, and Jimin is almost positive that they have the ability to put their audience in a trance. Before long, it's almost time for the transition leading into the encore, and Jimin makes his way backstage, ready to help with the wardrobe change and touch-ups. Jeongguk has always been particular about who touches him, and it usually falls to Jimin to help him get ready for the next set.

He can see it's already an issue when he turns a corner in the dark, barely-lit backstage area and spots one of Taehyung's newest assistants attempting to unbutton Jeongguk out of his shirt, oblivious to the offended look Jeongguk flashes him as he holds him off.

"I got it," Jimin calls, excusing the man and taking over for him before Jeongguk can unleash his irritation.

"You'd think they'd be made aware of the rules and ask before trying to forcibly undress people," he huffs, blowing a long strand of damp hair out of his face.

Jeongguk removes his jacket and starts on the clasps to his pants while Jimin works around him to unhook his mic pack and get his shirt off. 

He's sweating, mostly at his hairline, and Jimin has to make himself focus so he doesn't get distracted by the drops tracing down his cheeks and towards his jawline. They run along his neck, collecting in the hollows of his collarbone before ultimately sliding down his chest. Jimin’s fingers fumble, momentarily useless as he licks his lips at the sight. 

"You know how many times you've helped me rip my clothes off and it hasn't gone anywhere?"

Jimin almost stumbles even though he's standing still. He swallows the saliva in his mouth and forces himself to be calm as he grabs a towel to wipe Jeongguk off, hoping he’ll regain his ability to concentrate on his task. 

"You've been keeping count?"

Jeongguk has fire in his eyes, emptying a whole bottle of water in one go. Jimin places a paper towel under his hair to keep the sweat from dampening the strands further, doing his best to avoid that gaze. 

It's all for nothing when Jeongguk speaks next.

"I remember every single time."

Their eyes meet, and everything feels as if it stops, the air heavy with intent.

Hoseok interrupts them then, a hairdryer and some other tools in hand. Jimin steps aside, letting him work and getting Jeongguk's next outfit ready. 

When Hoseok moves towards Namjoon, Jimin quickly takes his place again, helping Jeongguk with his pants.

It goes against his own rules on how he handles these situations, but he can't help it. Jeongguk is practically naked in front of him, a sweaty, panting mess and he's just admitted to thinking about all the times Jimin has undressed him. It also doesn't help that he's currently zipping up the rockstar's pants.

"I remember too," he whispers, unable to regret it when Jeongguk's head shoots up, his gaze almost burning into him. "Every time."

They're both still, Jeongguk standing there with his pants still not done up all the way, and Jimin holding the rest of his clothes under one arm. He looks like he's about to do something, slowly moving closer until a voice booms around them.

"Two minutes!"

Jimin shakes himself out of his trance, trying not to think too hard about the disappointment painting Jeongguk's expression or the way he continues to stand still, openly staring even after the warning. Despite this, Jimin finishes helping him into his clothes, and then the singer is off with one final pointed look, following behind Namjoon and Yoongi.

Jimin goes back to his spot near the stage and enjoys the rest of the show as much as he can, trying not to blush over the way Jeongguk's heated stare never leaves him as he sings.

Once the encore is over, Jeongguk, Namjoon, and Yoongi head to the venue's showers to get cleaned up and changed. Taehyung stands outside of the door, collecting every piece of clothing from their stage outfits so he can have them cleaned and ready in time for tomorrow. Before Jeongguk disappears, Jimin passes him his bag of toiletries, back to ignoring his weighted stares as he makes his way to the dressing room.

When the three emerge, freshly clean and dressed, they sit through notes from the stage manager, lighting technician and sound operator, taking each imparted suggestion to heart. When the SM tells them that their timing from the main set to the encore ran a little long, Jeongguk's eyes find Jimin's, a devious little smirk taking over his lips.

Jimin can feel heat spread across his cheeks, trying his best to concentrate as he continues taking notes.

As soon as they’re through, everyone disperses, moving quicker than Jimin’s ever seen in order to go home and enjoy their free time before tomorrow’s concert.

Jimin stays because he knows Jeongguk is going to stay, and sure enough, the singer is already heading back towards the stage, jumpy in the way that he usually gets the night before a concert. 

“You want me to talk to him,” Namjoon asks, collapsing on the couch next to him, eyes closing while he relaxes into the cushions. Jimin shakes his head, giving the drummer a fond look.

“Thanks hyung, but we both know he’s not leaving until he works some of that energy off. You should go home and rest, you look tired.”

“ You look tired. Don’t be mad, but those circles under your eyes are only getting bigger. You deserve a rest. You work harder than anyone I know.”

Jimin stares at him, mouth agape, and moisture filling his eyes that has nothing to do with exhaustion.

“You’re too nice,” he says quietly, looking down at his hands and tugging at the rings on his fingers, unsure of what to do with himself.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Namjoon retorts with a warm smile, and Jimin can’t help but return it as the drummer pats his leg before getting up with a groan. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.”

“Where do you keep your grammy?”

Namjoon looks momentarily confused, but he answers all the same. 

“On my mantle in my apartment.”

Jimin nods, not sure what he was expecting. 

“Don’t let him keep you for too long. Put your foot down sometimes, you know?”

Jimin snorts.

“I’ve put my foot down so many times it’s through the floor by now. He’s good at not listening.”

Chuckling, Namjoon shakes his head.

“You’re the only one he does listen to.”

He leaves Jimin after that, doubt and confusion swirling endlessly in his mind. When he sees Shinhye lingering across the room staring at her phone he snaps out of it.

“Go home,” he calls, laughing when she jumps at the sudden noise.

“I can stay, I don’t mind.”

“I know you don’t mind, now go home.”

Her head tilts, a look of consternation gracing her features.

“I don’t like leaving you to deal with everything alone.”

“If by ‘everything’ you mean Jeongguk, I’m used to dealing with him,” he says with a smile, attempting to reassure her penchant for worrying. 

“Just...let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Promise,” Jimin agrees. 

He watches her gather her things, tiredly rubbing her eyes every now and then. Once she has everything he waves her off, enjoying the silence of the room for a bit longer before making his way back to the stage. 

Jeongguk is there, of course, jumping around, playing melodies to songs he’s released and mixing them with some he hasn’t. Jimin watches him croon lyrics into the mic, soft and sweet before hardening his tone, the echoes of his voice feeling as if they vibrate in Jimin’s bones.

They’re not alone. As long as Jeongguk wants to keep playing, the sound operators are still here, lighting technicians going over their cues and a dozen or so stage hands that bustle back and forth.

Jimin grabs the microphone attached to Yoongis’ stand and turns it on just as Jeongguk falls quiet.

“I’m tired and I want to go home.”

Jeongguk’s eyes find him immediately, a pleased smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“So go home,” he responds into his own mic, even though they’re not that far apart from each other. 

There’s no chance in hell that Jimin is leaving here without the rockstar. He knows how Jeongguk gets the night before a show, and if he leaves him to his own devices, there’s no telling what would happen.

He steps away from Yoongi’s set and moves to stand before the other, hoping he looks as convincing as possible. 

“I’m tired,” he repeats, unashamed to admit that he’s pouting, “it’s late, and you know I won’t leave without you.” 

Jeongguk’s smirk transforms into a genuine smile, a softness in his gaze that leaves Jimin breathless. 

“I know,” he answers softly-

And then he smashes the chords on his bass, making Jimin jump at the sudden loud clang that blares around him. He wasn’t expecting that. 

Jimin feels indignant, and Jeongguk is beyond infuriating. He grabs the collar of his loose, black shirt and yanks it towards him, feeling a thrill light up in his chest at surprising Jeongguk this time, making him grapple to keep a hold of his bass as well as his footing. He stares at Jimin in shock, like he’s never seen him before.

“I want to leave but I can’t go without you, understand? You have a concert tomorrow, stop being a brat and let’s go .”

Jeongguk’s eyes are wide, his pupils look blown, interestingly enough. Jimin watches his tongue poke out, licking across his thicker bottom lip before he sinks his teeth into it. 

“You know I won’t be able to calm down,” he says, as if in warning. 

“You just need to relax,” Jimin encourages, trying not to feel like his words are useless when he already knows they are. His fingers still grip Jeongguk’s shirt, as if he’s scared he’ll try to escape. 

“I can think of several ways you can help me relax.”

Jimin blushes, he can’t help it, and he curses the way his hold on the man gets slightly shaky. 

“You really are trying my patience, you know,” he mutters, finally releasing the younger man, only to gasp when Jeongguk encircles his wrists. 

“It’s only fair,” he claims, moving in close enough that Jimin can feel his bass press gently into his abdomen, “you try mine everyday.”

He let’s go of him, stepping back and away as he removes the instrument from around his neck and passes it off to a wandering stage hand. 

“We’re leaving?” Jimin asks, his tone hopeful.

“We’re leaving,” Jeongguk confirms, making his way back to the dressing room to gather his things. Jimin follows distractedly, texting Sejin to make sure he’s still at the venue. 

Sejin 12:04 am - I’m here, same place I dropped you off.

The cold hits Jimin instantly when they step outside, winter still stubbornly refusing to give way to spring. Sejin parked close, but Jimin can still hear the screams of hysteria when Jeongguk steps out, coming from dedicated Aurum fans, no doubt camping out in anticipation of tomorrow’s concert. Jeongguk takes the time to wave and acknowledge their presence until Jimin opens the car door. They both enter from the same side, Jimin motioning for Jeongguk to go in first, even though he looks like he wants to argue. Once Jimin closes the door behind him the noise gets muffled considerably and they pull away.

They’re driving for less than five minutes before Jeongguk leans forward in his seat, speaking directly to Sejin.

“Take us to Ddanggeomi, please.”

Jimin groans in frustration, feeling as if he’s on the cusp of yanking his hair out. 

“I thought we were going home,” he seethes, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug look off of Jeongguk’s unbearably handsome face. 

“I said we could leave, I didn’t say we were going home. Besides, you want me to relax, this is how I do it.”

Jimin feels an ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ddanggeomi is an open nightclub in Gangnam, and one of his many go-to places for finding eager partners to share his bed. 

There’s only one problem. 

“We don’t have Inha hyung with us, Jeongguk-ah.”

“We’ll be fine,” the singer dismisses, and Jimin gets a bad feeling about this, but it’s not as if he can do anything to change the circumstances. 

The club caters to an elite membership only, so there’s no long line trailing down the sidewalk when they arrive. Jeongguk already has his card in hand that marks him as a member, and Jimin tries not to feel self-conscious as they scramble out of the car, instructing Sejin to park somewhere not too far away. Neither of them are dressed appropriately, and they’re also without the added protection that Inha provides. 

Jimin doesn’t usually sweat when he’s nervous, but he feels like now would be a good time to start.

With a simple flick of Jeongguk’s wrist they enter the club. Loud music pulses through the speakers, reminiscent of the way Jeongguk’s rehearsal sounded in the concert hall. The lighting on the main floor is a kind of warm, amber color, but it’s dim, blurring details and setting a mood befitting its name. There’s no neon, or flashing strobe lights, and maybe that’s why Jeongguk likes it here so much.

This place allows anonymity, encouraging others to not focus on the details too closely.

“I’m gonna go dance. You should sit, you look tired.” 

Jeongguk has to yell to be heard, and when Jimin makes sense of what he’s just said over the noise he wants to throttle him, but he’s already gone, moving through the crowd until he’s found where he wants to be, someone already pulling him into their orbit. 

Jimin watches Jeongguk go willingly, that ugly feeling curling up in his stomach. It’s made worse when he sees that Jeongguk is staring right at him, as if gauging his reaction for something. Jimin doesn’t allow him the satisfaction, turning his back on the singer and making his way to the bar. 

He sits down on one of the high, uncomfortable stools, trying to ignore the fact that it feels somewhat tacky, and orders a sparkling water from the bartender. The last thing he wants is to dull his senses further by adding alcohol into the mix, even though he could use a drink right about now. One of them has to remain clear headed. 

Jimin stays like that, nursing his bubbly water and refusing to look back towards the dance floor, even though he knows he should. He has to keep an eye on Jeongguk. There’s no telling what he’d get up to if left unsupervised. He’s just about to do just that when someone occupies the seat next to him. Jimin lets his gaze wander, allowing a quick glance. 

It’s a man, conventionally handsome and appearing to be around his age. He’s staring right at him, a smile gracing his lips as he appraises Jimin in obvious interest.

Jimin gives a small smile back, trying to be polite despite his lack of wanting to pursue anything this man has in mind, but of course that's a mistake. A smile is as good as an invitation.

“What are you drinking, I can get you another,” the stranger offers, and Jimin eyes his nearly-full drink before giving another smile to soften his answer, hoping that he doesn’t offend the man.

“It’s just sparkling water, but I’m fine. I don’t think I’ll be here for much longer.”

The man chuckles, his eyes creasing charmingly in the corners. 

“Didn’t you only just arrive?”

A red flag waves wildly in Jimin’s mind, and he tries to calm himself. Maybe he’s being too paranoid. People are always forward in clubs. 

“How would you know that,” he questions absently, taking another drink of his water as a way to distract himself and keep his hands busy.

“Because you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen all night, I would’ve noticed you earlier if you’d been here long,” he explains, and he’s definitely a charmer, but Jimin feels more on edge by that fact than flattered.

“Maybe you’re just not very observant.”

“Oh I’m very observant,” the man refutes, and Jimin’s instincts are flaring up, telling him he should probably get out of here.

Again, he forces himself to appear as relaxed as he can, turning his body so he can fully look at the man.

“Listen, I don’t mean to disappoint you, but I’m really not looking for anything at the moment, in any capacity, if you understand what I’m saying.”

“That’s fine,” the handsome stranger responds with an unbothered smile, still looking at Jimin with interest. He feels himself flush at the attention, not really used to it, even after all of Jeongguk’s teasing and what some might call 'advancements.' His job keeps him busy, and he can’t remember the last time he went out on a date. 

He's not really interested in that right now. There's never really any time for it, and it wouldn't be fair to any potential partner to never be around. He's also not interested in one night stands. Too complicated and messy. Not that that's stopped Jeongguk.

Jimin wonders how he’s making out right now. If he’s found someone to warm his bed for a short time or if he’s still looking…

“You seem distracted,” no-name says, and Jimin looks back at him, unsure how to respond to that. He doesn’t owe this man anything, but his nature has always been to soothe and comfort, so he offers an excuse.

“Just tired, didn’t really want to come here.”

“A friend dragged you along?”

“You could say that,” he mutters, refusing to elaborate too much. He’s had people try to use him in order to get to Jeongguk before,  and as a result has learned to be far more distrusting than he used to be, and this guy hasn’t even offered him a name yet.

Jimin starts when he feels a hand on the back of his neck, looking up with wide eyes into Jeongguk’s intense gaze staring back at him, his form leaning over and nearly engulfing his smaller frame. 

“Let’s go home, Jimin-ah,” he suddenly decides, and Jimin starts thinking about logistics. If he’s found company for the night, he needs to set up a seperate car so whoever it is isn’t seen leaving with Jeongguk. He needs to convince the man to hand over his ID and sign the NDA before they go and-

“Jimin,” the stranger next to him says suddenly, as if trying the name out. Jimin had already forgotten he was there. “Pretty name for a pretty man.”

Jeongguk’s grip on him tightens fractionally, but mindful enough to make sure he’s not hurting him. Jimin shivers when he sees the look on his face. He looks pissed . 

“A little informal for someone you don’t know, don’t you think,” Jeongguk demands, and Jimin knows he’s trying to keep his temper in check.

“I think we were getting to know each other just fine before you showed up,” he says dismissively, gaze returning to Jimin. “This the friend who dragged you here?”

Jeongguk is angry now, and Jimin can’t really blame him, he’s perturbed himself. The man knew what he was doing, attempting to drive a wedge between them with little effort. Jimin tries to take control of the situation, rising from his barstool and placing a gentle hand on Jeongguk’s waist, feeling him relax beneath his touch. 

“Excuse us,” he says dismissively, startling when the man boldly grabs the hand he doesn’t have on Jeongguk.

“You shouldn’t have to leave just because he tells you to.”

“Get your fucking hands off of him,” Jeongguk growls, and Jimin tries to defuse the situation, not for the first time wishing Inha was here. 

“You’re being too forward, sir. We don’t know each other, and I’m not someone you need to save. Now let go of me, please.”

Thankfully, the man let’s go, but only after the bartender comes over, asking if there’s a problem.

“No problem,” the stranger says, holding both hands up as if to show he’s defenseless. “Just a misunderstanding.”

Jeongguk looks like he’s gonna lash out at that, but Jimin takes his hand in his and laces their fingers together, pulling him towards the exit. In all the chaos he never got the chance to text Sejin to drive up to the front. He stops on the sidewalk, Jeongguk’s hand still cradled in his, and let’s the driver know where they are. They’re picked up in less than a minute, and Jimin has no idea what to do about Jeongguk’s dark mood, or the fact that he didn’t invite anyone home. 

The drive is spent in silence and Jimin tries not to feel awkward as Sejin drops them off in the parking garage, expressing his gratitude for the man's hard work before he follows Jeongguk to his private elevator. The singer seems determined to ignore him the entire way, entering the code to his door and on the verge of stepping inside without a word when Jimin hears his own voice rush out in a desperate attempt to clear the strange air between them. 

“Do you...do you need anything? I can get something...if you need it.”

Jeongguk turns to look at him then, his gaze filled with a myriad of emotions. There’s fondness and amusement, but also a kind of sadness that Jimin immediately wants to remedy. 

“I owe you an apology. To me you looked uncomfortable with him talking to you, so I thought I could help. I didn’t realize you were interested.”

“I was,” Jimin blurts out before shaking his head decisively. “Uncomfortable, I mean. I wasn’t interested, so you don’t have to apologize.”

“Oh, well then that’s...okay then. I mean, I’m glad I didn’t ruin anything for you.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Jimin answers, offering a gentle smile. Jeongguk stares at him in a way that makes Jimin feel warm, cheeks feeling flush.

The singer remains quiet, his eyes never leaving Jimin as he looks on with an endeared expression. Jimin immediately tries to fill the silence. 

“Are we okay? You seemed upset. Earlier, I mean. Before we left.”

Jeongguk’s brow creases and then he seems to remember.

“Just...it was silly,” he decides, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Jeongguk answers with a gentle smile that makes Jimin’s heart flutter.

“Get some sleep, okay?”

“I’ll try. Goodnight, Jimin-ah,” and Jimin has to tramp down his disappointment at their imminent separation.

“Night, Jeongguk-ah.”

With the closing of the door to Jeongguk’s penthouse, Jimin tries to quiet his emotions for the rockstar, but they’re getting harder and harder to ignore. 

-

Jimin’s woken up by the shrill tone of his phone ringing, and when his eyes manage to peek open enough to read the digital numbers on his clock he groans at what they display. 

Who the fuck is calling him at six in the morning?

Soohan is, apparently.

Jimin allows himself a second to sigh before he answers.

“Soohan-ssi,” he says, wincing at how raspy his voice sounds. “How-”

“Have you seen the news? Checked your email?”

“No,” Jimin answers, feeling trepidation seep into his core.

“Check it and call me back.”

Jimin goes to answer but Soohan has already hung up on him and he’s left to gape at his phone. He sluggishly does as he’s told, opening up his email and seeing he has several from the company. Inside is the link to an article and when Jimin clicks on it his heart feels as if it skips a beat.

Famous rockstar and grammy winner Jeon Jeongguk caught leaving a club in Gangnam hand in hand with a mysterious male. 

“Fuuucck,” he groans, gawking at a clear picture of him holding Jeongguk’s hand, their fingers interlaced, and there’s a million ways this could be misconstrued. It obviously has, Jimin learns, reading the article and scoffing at some of the shit they’ve written. 

The two looked close; but slightly inebriated, as they quickly left the exclusive club after a rumored altercation took place inside. Could that have something to do with the couple's quick exit?

“Altercation!” Jimin shouts to the emptiness of his apartment, feeling offended. The entire thing is ridiculous, and Jimin is practically seething. They didn’t even drink anything! Not that it matters, he supposes, as long as it looks like they did, that’s what people will believe. 

Altercation, he fumes, mind still stuck on that. The audacity!

At least the comments are favorable towards Jeongguk, even if they’re at his expense…

That’s his manager, brainless, does anyone even bother to research before writing lies?

I can’t with this! They literally don’t know who Jeongguk’s manager is? As if they would be in a relationship. What next, he’s dating his driver?

They give anyone a job these days, huh?

THAT’S HIS MANAGER, NOT HIS SECRET LOVER!

Omg, if I work for Jeongguk can y’all talk about how we’re dating too? 

No, this is good. Jimin can use this. 

Feeling bolstered, he calls Soohan back, and of course gets bowled over before he can even give a greeting.

“I don’t want to hear excuses on what supposedly happened, Park. This is not the kind of publicity Jeongguk needs right now, he’s putting on a show tonight, for fuck’s sake. Complaints from people in the industry don't affect the general public’s opinion of him if credible sources don’t go to the press, which I’ve been able to stave off, no thanks to you. Trash stories in tabloid articles portraying him as some drunken, debaucherous brawler do affect the general public’s opinion of him. I want to hear how you plan to fix all this.”

“Just, hear me out. We weren’t there for very long, maybe twenty minutes or less. We can say he was there to say hi to a friend, we didn’t even drink anything. There was no brawl, I can arrange for the bartender to attest to that if it comes to it, but I doubt it will. I’ve seen the comments under the article and the vast majority is in Jeongguk’s favor. They know I’m his manager and that we aren’t romantically involved, it’s just a trash article trying to get views, that’s all. As long as we don’t treat it like it’s a big deal, it won’t be.”

“I need more than that, I need something to counter this, something that boosts his image, and not just to his fans.”

“I…” Jimin thinks quickly, remembering Seoul Arts School and the look on Yoonhe’s face when she asked if it was possible to get something autographed by Jeongguk. The wheels in his mind start turning. 

“The music program at Seoul Arts School. I know the teacher and the students, and they all love Aurum. Jeongguk could do a public appearance, sign some autographs, take pictures and listen to them play. Stuff like that. It could be like he’s encouraging the youth to pursue music. He’ll look good to the GP and the kids will be thrilled as well.”

“Right, the kids…”

There’s an awkward silence before Soohan continues speaking.

“Set it up. I want this to take place as soon as possible. Tomorrow preferably."

"He has an interview at KBS tomorrow-"

"Then the day after. We need to nip this article in the bud, you understand?”

“I understa-hello?”

Fucking Soohan. 

Jimin chucks his phone to the end of the mattress and screams into his pillow.

-

“What’s wrong?”

Jimin looks up in surprise. He’s only just walked into Jeongguk’s penthouse and is still struggling to remove his shoes, but Jeongguk can already tell he’s on edge. It’s barely noon and he’s awake, a surprise in itself. Jimin had expected another fight to try and get him up, but at least that’s one less thing he has to deal with. He keeps quiet, finally managing to get his shoes off before moving down the hallway and making for the spacious living room, Jeongguk trailing behind him. 

When he collapses onto the couch, Jeongguk takes a seat next to him, his eyes never leaving Jimin’s face, as if looking for a clue as to what’s upsetting him. Jimin’s about to explain when a glint of gold catches his eye.

“Jeongguk, why is your grammy in the aquarium?”

Jeongguk’s head turns to look, as if he’s only just realizing it’s there.

“Fish like that kind of shit, don’t they? Like a little hiding spot or a cave or something?”

“What if the metal is bad for them?”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Enough about fish, though. What’s wrong with you?”

Instead of answering, Jimin pulls up the article on his phone and passes it to Jeongguk. He doesn’t expect the singer to laugh while he’s reading it.

“Thanks for that, I guess, but I still don’t get why you’re upset,” Jeongguk admits, passing his phone back to him. 

“Because the company is upset.”

“Fuck the company,” Jeongguk groans loudly, his head falling to the back of his couch dramatically. 

“You say that a lot, but you’re still contractually bound to them.”

“Maybe I can change that,” Jeongguk mutters, turning his head so he can more easily look at Jimin. 

“You want to buy out your contract? What about trying to renegotiate first? Make some stipulations? You’ve only been with this company for barely a year and a half, but you’ve accomplished so much during that time. I’m sure you have a lot more bargaining power than you did before.”  

“What’s the advantage of staying with them versus choosing another company,” Jeongguk asks, seeming to genuinely want to hear his opinion.

“The enemy you know, right? Besides, by all accounts they’re a lot more lenient than other companies. But the most important thing is the staff.”

“Staff?”

“Yeah, people like me and Inha are all employed by you, but the others, like Hoseok, Taehyung, and Sejin, they work for the company. If you leave, what happens to them?”

Jeongguk purses his lips before letting his head fall back again with a sigh. 

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am, I’m always right.”

“And you call me a brat.”

“You are a brat! Half the shit I have to take care of is because you only think about yourself and leave me to pick up the mess. And if you need an example, I still have that article up on my phone if you want to reread it.”

“I compensate you for your trouble,” Jeongguk answers petulantly, making Jimin snort.

“You don’t pay me enough for this.”

“I give you a raise at least once a week!”

“You could pay me all the money in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough to compensate me for what I put up with.”

“You’re dramatic today.”

“That's funny coming from you.”

Jeongguk laughs, gently tugging on a strand of Jimin’s hair as he cups his own chin in his hand. He looks so much younger like this. Vibrant and happy, despite his circumstances.

“So what’s my punishment,” The singer asks suddenly, and Jimin feels his cheeks heat at the question, not understanding how the conversation led to this.

“W-what?”

“My punishment? What is the company going to make me do to counter the article?”

“Oh, um...I suggested a photo op kinda thing with the kids in the music program at Seoul Arts School.”

“Poor kids, being used as a tool to curb a potential scandal.”

“Don’t think of it like that,” Jimin chastises. “You being there will make a lot of kids happy. I went there yesterday before dress rehearsal and They all spoke about how they look up to you. You’re someone they can show to their parents as proof that they don’t have to be a doctor or a lawyer to be successful. That they can pursue their love and passion for music and make it on their own."

Jeongguk is looking at him with that familiar wanton look in his eyes, but it’s tempered with a warmth that marks the genuine feelings he has for Jimin, and it leaves him a little breathless. The air is heavy with it, as if the very atmosphere can sense that something is moving for them, just as they move closer to each other, like they can’t stand to be apart.

"You went there yesterday," Jeongguk suddenly asks, so close Jimin can almost count each individual lash on the lids of his eyes. "Is that why you weren't here when I came back?"

"Yes," he breathes, eyes focused on the singer's glistening lips.

Jeongguk shakes his head looking slightly embarrassed, and Jimin wants to ask him why.

But then his phone trills with the usual alert for whenever he has a message, and they move away from each other, spell broken. 

Sejin 12:02 pm - We’re here.

“You have everything,” he asks, and Jeongguk nods, his jaw tight, gaze determined. 

“Let’s go.”

-

When they arrive at the venue this time, it’s far more chaotic than it was yesterday, the energy trembling and making everyone giddy with nerves. There’s a massive crowd as far as the eye can see outside, baying at the doors with the desire to get in and watch the group they love perform. 

Jimin always feels inadequate in the face of them and all their dedication. What could he possibly have to offer that would ever be worth risking all of this for?

Nothing. That’s the answer. 

While Jeongguk, Namjoon and Yoongi go for soundcheck, Jimin gets summoned over by Taehyung, who’s been whispering quietly with Hoseok since Jimin arrived.

“Everything okay?”

“I got an email this morning, and a delivery just now.”

“Explain,” Jimin orders, trying not to panic.

“Soohan told me since that article was published, the wardrobe for the show needs to go in a different direction. He sent over some clothes that he expects the guys to perform in. Says that since it’s being broadcasted to potentially millions, he wants the clothes to speak to the image they're trying to portray.”

Jimin feels like he’s shaking. On paper, it shouldn’t sound like a big deal, and maybe to some, it wouldn’t be. But Jeongguk won’t see it like that. He’ll see it as just another way his company is trying to control him. Own him. Taehyung spent weeks sending pictures and samples of fabrics, going through hundreds of outfits to find something that Jeongguk, Namjoon and Yoongi approved of, and now they’re taking it away so they can what , look more general-audience friendly?

“Can I see them?”

Taehyung moves closer to his clothes rack, where he unzips a garment bag and reveals what’s inside. 

Two suits, one black, one gray. Simple, boring, with white button down shirts and silver cufflinks.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he whispers, curling his fingers into his palms and squeezing until he can feel his nails bite at the skin. He takes a deep breath while Tae and Hoseok look at him with worry, and for their sake he attempts to calm down, but at this point, it feels impossible.

“He’s never gonna agree to this. How the fuck am I supposed to get him to agree to this?” 

Jimin feels like he’s on the verge of hyperventilating, and the others must think so too as they lead him to a couch and instruct him to put his head between his legs. 

“Breathe, Jiminie,” he hears Hoseok instruct while Tae runs a soothing hand through his hair. Jimin does what he’s told, focusing on taking deep even breaths, in and out. In and out. He’s tired, feels worn thin, and this kind of bullshit keeps happening, he’s honestly sick of it. 

It’s hard to remember what his life was like before all this. What it feels like to not wake up and go to sleep with stress. 

Sounds impossible to him. 

“You know he doesn’t have to listen, I doubt what he wears is really a serious topic to the higher ups,” Taehyung says seriously, and Jimin looks at him in disbelief. 

“Soohan told you that’s what he wants Jeongguk wearing. You could be fired if he doesn’t go out on stage in that stupid suit.”

Taehyung laughs as if Jimin has cracked a joke, and he looks at him with incredulousness while Hoseok raises a brow.

“I fail to see what’s funny about that.”

“He couldn’t fire me even if he wanted to.”

Jimin continues to stare at him like he’s lost his mind, muttering a weary, ”He’s the main director in charge of Aurum,” and watches the way Taehyung’s expression morphs into one of seriousness.

“Has he done stuff like this before? Made demands with threats behind them?”

“All the time,” Jimin mutters truthfully, forgetting for a second that he’s supposed to bear that particular burden. Only Shinhye knows. 

A brief flash of anger burns behind Tae’s eyes, but it’s gone quickly, replaced by warmth and kindness. 

“It’ll be fine, I promise. He can wear them or he won’t, nothing bad is going to happen. It’s not like he won’t get the opportunity to reuse the outfits we picked out, you know? They’re just clothes. It’s not the end of the world.”

“You’re right,”Jimin says with a resolute nod. It’s true, but he still dreads what’s going to happen after he tells Jeongguk.

He doesn’t get to put it off for as long as he'd hoped, either. Thirty minutes later, they take a break, Jeongguk, Namjoon and Yoongi filing into the room in search of food. Shinhye had takeout delivered, and even though she accounted for Jeongguk’s diet, Jimin knows he’s going to pick one of the regular containers.

He’s proven right when he sees the offended look on her face as soon as Jeongguk grabs two boxes and makes his way towards Jimin. He sits down next to him and hands him one before he starts to eat, while Jimin watches him out of the corner of his eye.

He has no appetite, so he sets the box aside and gathers himself.

“We have to talk,” he says suddenly, wanting to blanch at the way he blurted that out without any tact.

“Is it about something that’s going to ruin my mood,” the singer asks calmly, and Jimin exhales a deep sigh.

“Yeah.”

“Then can it wait till I’m done eating?”

“Okay.”

They sit together in silence, Jeongguk enjoying his meal and Jimin answering emails as well as going over the schedule to keep his mind busy. When Jeongguk clears everything inside his takeout box and sets it aside, he looks expectantly at Jimin, motioning for him to begin.

“Because of the article this morning, Soohan sent over a new set of clothes that he wants you all to perform in. He thinks it’ll help your image if you look consumer friendly.”

He says it quickly, like ripping off a bandaid, and for the most part, Jeongguk doesn't give much of a reaction.

"My performance clothes are going to be the deciding factor of whether or not people think I'm problematic?"

"That seems to be the thought process, yes."

“Show me.”

Jimin leads him over to the clothes rack and unzips the same bag that Taehyung had done earlier. Jeongguk stares at it for a moment, his eyes moving almost longingly to the next rack over, where his red suit hangs.

“My hair, my clothes, my attitude,” he murmurs. “The only thing left for them to try and change is my music.”

Jimin doesn’t know why he feels like crying at that. Sometimes he forgets that for all that Jeongguk acts out, he’s only doing it for some sense of control, and even though it makes things harder on him, they’re infinitely harder on Jeongguk. 

“Okay,” is all he says, and with one last look at his red suit, he walks away. Jimin thinks he would’ve felt better if the singer had fought him on it, instead of quietly accepting it like he had no other choice.

-

The venue is filling up with Aurum fans, their energy echoing off of the walls. 

Namjoon is dressed and ready, Yoongi looks passed out in Hoseok’s chair while he gets his makeup done, and Taehyung is trying to get Jeongguk dressed. 

“He won’t wear the tie,” the stylist whispers to Jimin, not wanting the singer to hear where he stands just beyond the changing curtain. 

Jimin shrugs, “So he doesn’t wear the tie, he’s still in a boring suit."

Taehyung looks as if he’s about to interject, but then the curtain is flung aside, and Jimin sees what Tae was trying to warn him about. Jeongguk stands there in his boring suit that looks anything but boring on him. The trousers hug his thighs, emphasizing the thick, defined shape of them, and the simple white shirt does the same.

Except…

Jeongguk has failed to button up the majority of his buttons, and a rather large expanse of his chest is open to the air. His makeup is already done, dramatically emphasizing his eyes while his hair is half up, half down, the dark strands falling just above his shoulders.

He looks like sex.

Not exactly general-audience friendly. 

As the singer moves past them, both Jimin and Tae seem to gain their wits back. 

“Um, Jeongguk?”

“No,” he answers simply, and they both stop short, allowing the younger man to get away.  

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Taehyung mutters with a shrug, trying to appear unphased, and Jimin snorts, collapsing into his friend's side as he can’t help but quietly laugh.  

“Glass half-full, huh?”

“I’d take a glass of something right about now, can’t imagine how you’re holding up.”

“I need a vacation,” Jimin admits. 

“By all means, take one. You deserve it,” Tae encourages, pulling Jimin more securely into his side with a gentle arm around his waist.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It really is. You just ask for some time off, easy as pie.”

“But Jeongguk-”

“Is a grown adult who’s capable of taking care of himself.”

Jimin knows Tae is right, but the idea of leaving the younger man on his own fills him with a horrible anxiety that he can’t shake. 

“Maybe when this whole tabloid thing blows over,” Jimin tries, wanting to wince at the pointed look Taehyung gives him.

"This is one of those things that you'll just put off and make excuses about why it's not a good time."

"It's not!"

“Don’t think I’ll forget, I’m gonna keep reminding you.”

“I know you will.”

“I know you know I will.”

It’s silent for a moment, but Jimin breaks first, and it’s not long before they’re both giggling at their absurdity.

Fifteen minutes to showtime they all start moving with purpose. Jimin threads the in-ear wire through Jeongguk’s shirt, hooking it up to the mic pack attached to his pants. Once he’s finished helping him, he moves towards Namjoon and Yoongi, seeing if they need anything. 

With less than five minutes before they go live, Jeongguk suddenly lets out a frustrated, “Fuck!”

Jimin watches him rip his in-ears out like a knee-jerk reaction, and even from a few feet away he can hear the high pitched shriek they emanate. 

“Jimin,” Jeongguk calls, and it almost breaks his heart how lost he sounds.

“I’m here,” he soothes, already pulling out one of the two spares of custom in-ears he always keeps on him during a show, in case of situations like this. “Let me,” he instructs when their hands get tangled. Jimin drapes them over Jeongguk’s shoulders, pulling the back of his shirt off of him and leading the wire through, trying not to get distracted by the warmth of Jeongguk’s skin when he brushes it. 

He plugs everything in, instructing the singer to check them. When Jeongguk gives him a thumbs up to signal that they’re working Jimin flashes him a smile. 

“Good luck,” he yells, in order to be heard over the screams of anticipation from the waiting crowd. 

Jeongguk draws near, and Jimin can feel his eyes widen when their cheeks brush, the singer’s lips caressing his ear. 

“Keep your eyes on me, Jimin-ah. Okay?”

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond to that, or handle the way that Jeongguk’s deep voice makes something melt inside him, sending shivers across his neck to trace down his spine. 

“Okay,” he hears himself say, sounding dazed even to his own ears, and if Jeongguk’s smug smirk is anything to go by as he pulls away, he’s definitely aware of his affect.

He gives him one last heated look before the three of them take the stage. The cheers are deafening, and as promised, Jimin never takes his eyes off of Jeongguk.  

The energy in the place is palpable, the reverberations from the speakers make the very ground feel like it’s vibrating. Jimin can feel it in his bones, a tingling kind of buzz that’s similar to the sensation of a limb falling asleep. So close to the stage, he can see everything like this. The eager faces of the fans as they reach out, desperate to touch and embrace their idols. The way Namjoon twirls his drumsticks daringly in the air before bringing them crashing down again. Yoongi’s quick fingerwork over his guitar, improvising rifts as he sees fit.

And then Jeongguk…

Jimin could never adequately describe the presence and charisma Jeongguk brings out onstage. It’s no mystery to see why strangers fall in love with him over and over again. He’s like liquid gold, priceless, but hard to hold onto. It seems like he’s everywhere at once, jumping across the stage, reaching out towards his adoring fans, back to back with Yoongi as they both strum their instruments, standing on the platform that holds Namjoon’s drum set, and still able to flash Jimin smug looks when their eyes meet. 

Jeongguk was born to perform.

Jimin is captivated, caught in that familiar, yet frustrating sensation of losing time whenever the band plays. It slips away, two songs turning into seven, then thirteen, and before long Jeongguk is announcing it’s the last song, even though they still have the encore after this. The crowd’s disappointment crescendos into one massive groan, and Jeongguk laughs cheekily into his microphone while the fans' upset shifts to hysterical screams at the sound of their idol’s joy.

“You lot are greedy,” he murmurs coyly into his mic, and the crowd practically surges as if frantic to get to him. The singer basks in it, and Yoongi starts the intro for the last; but not technically, song.

It’s one that Jeongguk wrote, the title of it being, ‘Not Yours, ’ and Jimin knows it wasn't inspired by a person, but rather his refusal to be owned or changed in order to fit an image. It’s a meaningful song tonight, maybe now more than ever, and as Jeongguk’s deep voice rumbles through the speakers, declaring his refusal to be anyone’s doll, he rips his shirt open, buttons scattering everywhere. The only thing keeping his chest somewhat covered is the fact that the hem of the shirt is still tucked into his pants, but otherwise there’s a long stretch of bare golden skin on display, the black ink of 'The Lovers' tattoo clearly shown, which the fans seem to be losing their minds over. Jimin can see them clearly, phones out, mouths open. 

Some are crying…

Jimin kind of feels like crying right now. This is being streamed to countless people, and he just knows Soohan is blowing up his phone. But surprisingly, he can’t even find it in himself to be genuinely upset. Instead, Jimin feels oddly proud of the rockstar.

When the song ends, and both Jeongguk and Yoongi throw their pics to the crowd and Namjoon tosses his drum sticks, they walk off the stage, Namjoon and Yoongi towards Taehyung’s assistants, and Jeongguk right into Jimin.

Jeongguk grabs his hand without a word, pulling him to a small curtained off area designated for him to change, his rack of clothes squeezed along the back wall. Jimin finds himself being suddenly crowded, Jeongguk barely leaving any discernible space between them.

He’s sweating, long hair damp with it, his pupils blown wide as if he’s on something, and Jimin supposes he is. Performing has always been like a drug to the singer, better than any high he never felt the need to chase, not when millions were chanting his name. 

“I could feel your eyes the whole time. Fuck, do you know what that does to me?”

Jimin can feel what it does. It’s obvious and pressing insistently at his thigh. He's practically frozen. How the fuck is he supposed to handle Jeongguk like this? There’s no time, he’s supposed to be dressed already in his second outfit, and Hoseok will be here any second to fix his hair, but Jimin can’t fucking move.

This isn’t the time, nor the place, but it’s impossible to get that vital message to his body, especially when they're so wrapped up in each other.

Jeongguk is pressing against him, more insistantly than before, a muscled leg sliding between his own and discovering the hard outline of Jimin’s own arousal. 

"You want it too, don't you? You want me?"

"I-"

“Tell me no,” Jeongguk softly commands, leaning down until his mouth ghosts over the corner of Jimin’s lips, traveling across his cheek in a gentle caress that feels like it’s juxtaposed to what’s going on below their waists. “Tell me to stop if you don't.”

Jimin really should, for a thousand different reasons. Hoseok will be here soon, there’s hundreds of people just beyond the wall waiting for Jeongguk, and he’s not in the right state of mind right now, still under the influence of the stage…

But Jimin doesn’t want to say no.

He looks into Jeongguk’s starry eyes, the way they widen, even in desire, his teeth sinking into his plump bottom lip, exposing the mole just below it. Jimin buries his fingers in Jeongguk’s hair, uncaring that the strands are damp with sweat, he’s more intrigued by the way Jeongguk’s lids flutter, a pretty moan leaving him. 

Jimin doesn’t want to say no, so he won’t. 

But they can’t do this now.

“You need to get changed,” he instructs, grabbing the eye-catching red suit with the animal print shirt that he’s not technically supposed to wear. But Soohan is already going to tear into him, so why not make it worth it. “Put this on.” 

It takes a second for Jeongguk to adjust to the change in mood, blinking his eyes as if they’re blurry. When they land on the clothes Jimin has pressed against his chest he looks up in disbelief.

“Are you sure,” he asks, and Jimin can’t shake the feeling that he’s posing two different questions. 

“I’m sure,” he whispers, watching as Jeongguk begins to remove himself from the other suit.

Hoseok comes in barely a minute later, looking at Jimin with a raised brow, undoubtedly wondering why he isn’t changed yet. All Jimin can do is shrug, helping when he can while Hoseok quickly blasts Jeongguk's hair with a brush and a blowdryer before dabbing at his face with a cloth and retouching up his makeup. 

Taehyung claps excitedly when Jeongguk emerges and sees him wearing the red suit, a look of pride in his eyes that he not only directs at the rockstar, but at Jimin as well. 

“Knock ‘em dead,” he encourages, and Jeongguk flashes the stylist a warm smile before sending something far more heated Jimin’s way. When they’re back onstage, greeted by the screams of the crowd, Taehyung nudges him.

“What was that look for,” he asks.

“He’s always intense when he performs, you know that.”

“Don’t feed me that, I’m not an idiot,” Taehyung grumbles into his ear, and Jimin feels immediately regretful. 

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, then just say so. I won’t be offended.”

Jimin shakes his head and hurries to explain. Maybe an outside perspective will help sort him out.

“For awhile now Jeongguk has been more than obvious that he wants our relationship to progress beyond friendship,” Jimin confides, feeling silly when he hears the words out loud. 

Taehyung snorts.

“I could’ve told you that. Most of the staff could’ve told you that.”

“Okay, you’ve made your point.”

“Well what’s stopping you? I know how you feel about him.”

Jimin sighs, running his fingers over the lids of his eyes while he searches for the right words.

“I know something’s bothering him. He’s been acting differently, but he won’t tell me.”

“Have you tried asking him?”

“Several times, but he always changes the subject. I thought if I gave him some time he would confide in me, but nothing’s changed. I just don’t think it would be smart to try and change our relationship when there’s already something hanging over our heads that we need to resolve.”

Taehyung looks at him thoughtfully, his handsome features softening as he ponders.

“You could tell him that. Could be an incentive to clear the air quicker if your ass is what’s at stake, literally.”

Jimin elbows him in the ribs, feeling satisfied when Tae grunts at the impact. 

“You know it’s true, though.”

“I want him to come to me on his own,” he counters, yelling over the blaring music and the screaming crowd.

“How long have you been waiting?”

“About a month.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. What did you say?”

“A month,” Jimin exclaims, watching bewilderment etch itself onto Taehyung’s features. 

“Are you kidding me? Forget waiting, just talk to him! You realize all your problems could be solved if you just talked to him? ”

Jimin can’t help but remember how Jeongguk had something similar to say about that drama they started, and he tries not to feel ridiculous.

“Unbelievable,” Tae says to himself. “You could be getting dick right now if you just had a conversation.”

Jimin slaps his arm with a grin before he tries to explain. 

“It’s not just that, you know? We’ve been friends for so long. I’m his manager, for fuck’s sake. What if it doesn’t work out? What if it ruins everything?”

“What if the world ends tomorrow,” Tae shoots back. “What if we all simultaneously break out into song-”

“Okay, I get it,” Jimin yells over a particularly loud riff. 

“I’m just saying, no one knows what’s gonna happen. Can’t live life worried about the what ifs.”

“I don’t want to lose him though,” Jimin admits, terrified of that possibility more than anything. 

“I doubt you ever could, you two are way too codependent on each other. I actually think some time apart would help clear your guy’s heads a bit. Get some perspective.”

“You were just telling me I could be getting dick right now,” Jimin huffs incredulously. 

“The dick will still be there when you get back,” Taehyung argues, and Jimin can’t help but giggle. 

“You do what you think is best,” the stylist offers with a kiss against Jimin’s cheek. “I gotta go take care of some clothes.

“Love you.”

“Love you more,” Tae says with a wink, and then he's gone. 

Jimin turns back to the stage, watching what's left of the rest of the encore. It isn't long before Jeongguk is proclaiming over and over again to the groaning of the crowd that it’s the last song, for real this time. 

The lights dim, a soft blue color bathing the stage in shadows. The crowd quiets, and Jeongguk is lit up like gold with a single spotlight. 

‘Tastes like Obscenity’ starts off with a riff of Jeongguk’s bass, the deep sound sparking something almost sensual in the rhythm of it, affecting those who listen. It’s like a kind of heat that travels through your veins, settling in your core. It’s hypnotising, the way Jeongguk plays…

Just as his bass tapers off, Namjoon’s light drumming on the cymbal begins, melding perfectly with Jeongguk’s voice as he begins to quietly sing, crooning the intro of his song as if propositioning a lover, the words slightly louder than a husky whisper. 

“On the bed, still as can be, I lie here waiting for you. You’re in my head, reading these thoughts, you know what I wanna do.”

Jeongguk’s hips sway fluidly, unhurried as he feels the music, eyes closed, lips gleaming, almost like he’s run his tongue over them one too many times. He sings beautifully, the crowd captivated and Jimin among them. Jeongguk is like a siren, luring his prey. 

The soft strumming of Yoongi’s electric guitar joins in just as Jeongguk delivers the next line, sounding like honey.

“I’ve already won, can feel it so vivid, your touch just like a dream.”

His voice gets steadily louder, filled with more conviction until finally his gentle singing ends in a rough growl.

“But it’s my prize, it’s our pleasure, I’m gonna make you scream.

You taste like obscenity.”

Namjoon picks up on the drums, and the music melds together in harmony as Jeongguk dances to it, looking far too erotic. 

Jimin watches as he literally grinds on his own mic stand, several people in the crowd have to be pulled out by security, looking faint.

Jimin’s own face feels heated, finding it ironic that while Jeongguk sings about someone else tasting obscene, he himself seems to be the very definition of the word. His hand trailing from the top of his exposed chest in that damn animal print shirt, all the way down to brush along the front of his pants, gripping his inner thigh and...thrusting. 

The roar is deafening, beneath that; and his own blood pounding in his eardrums, Jimin swears he hears his phone ringing nonstop. Soohan is probably bursting a blood vessel right about now.

Strangely enough, Jimin isn’t too worried about it. When he sees Jeongguk in his element like this, he can’t help but believe that the man is untouchable somehow. Invinceable.

The song comes to an end with Jeongguk practically writhing on the floor, microphone stuck to his lips like a lover as he moans lewdly, the crowd eating it up and demanding more. But when he finally picks himself up off the ground, Jeongguk bows, blows a kiss to his adoring fans and tosses his pic into the sea of outstretched arms.

And then he walks off the stage.

And right into Jimin again. 

Before he can establish what’s happening, he feels the singer’s hand grip his own, pulling him deeper into the dark backstage area, much like before the encore. His heart pounds in anticipation, knowing that they’re about to do something that can’t be taken back. Finally, all the tension is going to be released, one way or another. 

“Did you hear them,” Jeongguk whispers in his ear when he finally tires of waiting to get his hands on Jimin, pushing and pulling at his clothes as if desperate to get to skin, just as Jimin’s own hands claw at the smooth material of Jeongguk’s suit. 

He nods to satisfy the rockstar, even though he’s not quite sure what he’s talking about.

“All those people screaming my name, when all I want, is to hear it from you . Wanna make you scream my name, Jimin.”

“Fuck,” Jimin hisses, finally pulling Jeongguk’s shirt free of his pants, fingers brushing across his abdomen, right over 'The Lovers' tattoo, fascinated at the way Jeongguk’s muscles jump at the contact.

This is a bad idea. Neither of them seem to be in their right mind. They still need to talk-

Jeongguk’s thigh presses against his rapidly hardening cock, and Jimin swears he sees stars.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I want to, so badly. Please let me,” Jeongguk begs into his neck, lips coming up to latch onto his sensitive ear, all that wet heat from his mouth making his legs want to buckle.

“Woah, not while wearing my clothes!”

They both jump apart, Jimin’s eyes wide as he spots Tae carrying multiple hangers and looking slightly scandalized.

Jimin feels mortified, disappointed in himself that he let it get that far, out in the open, of all places, without clearing the air like he knew they needed to. 

“Shinhye is looking for you,” Taehyung says, staring at him like he knows he needs an out. Jimin takes it gratefully, ignoring the way Jeongguk looks as if he’s about to protest, cut off by Tae demanding he remove the suit before he, “ruins it further.”

Jimin leaves quickly, putting as much space between him and the singer as he can. He finds Shinhye pacing in one of the lit hallways, staring at her phone as if it were a monster. Jimin can already feel the migraine starting.

“Oh thank goodness,” she sighs once she sees him, just as her phone starts to ring. “It won’t stop.”

He can see Soohan’s name flashing across the screen, and with a brittle resolve, he answers it. 

“Soohan-ssi,” he greets, lacking his usual air of reverence that he always tries to instill in his voice when he talks to the older man, in the failed hope that he wouldn’t act like an asshole. 

But he always acts like an asshole, so...

“You and I need to talk,” he says, an icy edge to his tone.

“Go ahead.”

“In person, Jimin.”

Jimin tries to tramp down the anxiety he feels at that and utterly fails.

“I’ll have my assistant set up a date-”

“Tonight, Jimin. No excuses. You come here now, understand?”

“I understand. I’ll be there as soon as...hello?”

Of course he’s already hung up.

“Son of a bitch,” he seethes at the phone, his eyes guiltily finding Shinhye’s worried ones. “Sorry,” he mutters, trying to keep a lid on his own frustration and anger so it doesn’t stress her out more than he already knows she is.

He hands her her phone back, formulating a plan as he paces. He’ll have to leave now, before Jeongguk finishes with his shower and review from the SM. He can’t see him before he leaves, Jeongguk will know something is up, and if he tells him where he’s going, the stubborn brat would only demand to come too, and that’s only going to make things worse. 

“I’m leaving first. Do me a favor?” 

At Shinhye’s adamant nod, he continues. 

“Give me twenty minutes, then tell Jeongguk where I’ve gone, okay? Try to avoid him until then, I don’t need him barging into the company. Tell him I don’t know how long it’ll take, so don’t wait for me.”

“Got it,” she nods resolutely, but Jimin can tell she’s barely keeping herself together. He forces an easy smile for her benefit.

“It’s gonna be fine. Remember, they can’t fire me.”

She laughs, but it sounds a little wet, so Jimin squeezes her hand reassuringly and then he leaves, calling for a taxi as he goes, and careful to look around corners so he doesn’t accidentally run into Jeongguk. 

He makes it to the company in record time, and he likes to think it’s because most of Seoul is still lurking around the concert hall, hoping to get a glimpse of Jeongguk as he leaves the building. 

It’s almost ten o’clock, but even still, most of the place is lit up, even though it’s sparsely occupied. He finds Soohan in his office, his stare burning a hole into his computer screen. 

“Come here,” the man orders without looking up, so Jimin rolls his eyes at how dramatic he’s being, just because he can get away with it. 

When he rounds the man’s desk, he’s able to see what he’s looking at, and it’s enough to make him freeze. 

This was probably the last thing Jimin was expecting, but there, on the screen, is a series of pictures someone posted to twitter. Someone who was obviously at the concert tonight near the far left of the stage with a good view of the backstage area on the right hand side. 

The very same side Jimin had been watching from. 

The first few pictures are innocent enough, just him standing there, watching the show. But there are a few pictures that catch what looks like Jeongguk staring at him as he sings. Those can be explained away, easily.

What can’t be explained away is the picture of Jeongguk leading Jimin away, their hands clasped, fingers locked. There’s even a video.

Fuck.

Soohan scrolls through some of the comments, and they’re no better.

I don’t know, I thought that article the other day was a joke, but now I’m not so sure.

What’s that saying? First time’s an accident, second time’s a coincidence? I’ll wait for the third time…

Am I the only one who thinks Jeongguk is dating his manager?

Jeongguk looked me straight in the eyes tonight and told me he loved me. He would never do me like this. Y’all are just jealous.

Say what you want but I have never seen Jeongguk look at anyone the way he looks at Jimin.

It goes on like that, seemingly endless, and Jimin honestly doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. 

"I think it might be best if you two aren't seen together for awhile," Soohan says suddenly and decisively, as if it's just that easy.

"How? I'm his manager-"

Soohan interrupts him with an unamused snort.

"Oh, now you're his manager?"

"What's that supposed to mean," Jimin quietly asks, hands curling into fists at his sides.

“What do you think? We’re already getting mass emails about the show. Complaints about his tattoos, his clothes, his behaviour. Everyone is watching him now, and this is what he chooses to do? Because he was told he had to wear a different set of clothes? Is that really the reason?”

Soohan looks at him then, his eyes bloodshot with anger, teeth gritting together as if it’s the only way to keep himself from imploding. 

“I understand why you’re telling me this, but I don’t think you realize that I can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to do. He’s an adult.”

Soohan laughs in his face.

“That's literally your job, Jimin. To manage him. I’ve told you before, if you can’t control him, I’ll find someone who can.”

Jimin remains tight lipped. Soohan can't fire him, but he can hire someone else to try and undermine his position and make his life difficult, and there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do about it.

"If he wants to act out over clothes, just make sure he knows there's a lot more I can change, understood?"

"Understood," Jimin grits out, wanting nothing more than to tell the man what he really feels about him. 

"Good, you can go now."

Without a word, Jimin leaves the office.

The air that hits him once he exits the building is cold but refreshing, helping to clear his mind of all the thoughts racing through his head. He stands motionless on the sidewalk, taking in the busyness of Seoul coming alive at night.

Instead of calling a cab, his feet begin to move, as if they have a mind of their own, carrying him off down the street. He gets lost in it, clearing his head as he focuses solely on enjoying the walk.

He finds himself at the Han River, recalling all the times he used to come here with Jeongguk, before he became so in demand and recognizable. One of the last memories he has of being here together is late at night, much like now, discussing Jeongguk's decision to sign with an entertainment company or not. 

"What are the pros," Jimin had asked, watching the way Jeongguk bit into his bottom lip while he thought about it, unaware of the battle Jimin was fighting internally to keep himself from staring too closely at the action.

"The promotion they're offering. If I wanna reach a higher audience that's the way to do it."

"What else?"

"Their resources and money. They could pay for things and make stuff possible that I can't."

"Like?"

"Like touring, for one."

"And the cons," Jimin wondered quietly, watching as Jeongguk's face fell.

"They could try to control me."

It feels like that conversation occurred so long ago, but in reality it was barely two years prior, and in that time Jeongguk has grown and flourished so much, climbing high and bringing his company with him, which had been a fresh enterprise when Jeongguk had joined. 

There had been so much promise in the beginning, but now it seems there's only bitterness, especially on Jeongguk's side.

More than anything he just wishes he knew how to fix it all, so that Jeongguk can be happy again.

When he finally makes it home it's close to midnight, and he goes straight to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway when he sees Jeongguk, fast asleep on his bed. 

Jimin stands there, lost in staring at the younger man, so different from the one that was on stage tonight, the one all those people were screaming for and desired. It's just another part of him that those people don't get to see. But Jimin does, he gets to see him. All of him.

And he's never loved anyone more.

As quietly and gently as he can, he pulls the blanket up and over him, watching the way Jeongguk's brow furrows before it smooths out again.

He grabs some pajamas and takes a quick shower, running the towel through his hair once he's done to gather all the stray drops of water as best he can. 

Jimin tiptoes back into his room, slowly and carefully pulling the covers back before slipping into bed next to the other man, and letting out a sigh as his body relaxes into the mattress. 

His eyes shoot open when the blankets rustle, and suddenly a pair of thick arms wrap him up in their embrace, easily pulling him back into a solid chest as Jeongguk's nose brushes along his neck.

"You were gone for s'long," he slurs, mumbling his words against Jimin's skin, causing him to shiver.

"Lost track of time," he admits, his hands covering Jeongguk's.

"What'd they want?"

"Tell you tomorrow. Sleep now."

Jeongguk nuzzles more insistently against his neck, and Jimin has to refrain from letting out any embarrassing sounds, the singer's lips caressing his sensitive skin as he speaks.

"You smell good," he hums. "You always smell so good."

Jimin listens to his breathing evening out, small little whines leaving him as he falls back to sleep. He feels his broad chest moving rhythmically against his back, and it doesn't take him long to follow.

-

When Jimin opens his eyes in the morning, he's met with Jeongguk's face barely inches from his own.

He tries to sink deeper into the pillows, but there's nowhere to go.

“What did they want,” he suddenly asks, and Jimin looks at him in confusion before remembering. He closes his eyes with a sigh, purposefully making Jeongguk wait longer so he can gather his thoughts. 

"Good morning to you too," he groans, putting a hand over his mouth and blinking up at the other man. "I'm gonna go brush my teeth."

Jeongguk makes a face at him but rolls away. Jimin watches him pad into the bathroom, picking up his spare toothbrush to do so as well. He follows more sedately, stretching and taking time to fully wake up before getting out of bed. Jeongguk helpfully passes him the toothpaste when he enters and Jimin murmurs a thank you before brushing his own teeth. 

He can't help but think how domestic it all is, looking up and seeing them in the mirror, side by side with the same brand of toothbrushes. 

Once they both rinse out their mouths Jimin avoids making eye contact, but motions for the singer to follow him.

"Come on, I'll make you breakfast."

Jeongguk does as he's told, no doubt exercising restraint as he quietly trails behind him. He climbs up onto the middle island barstool, and Jimin can feel him staring as he opens the fridge in search of some eggs. He’s in the mood for gyeran toast. 

When he starts to fry the eggs, Jeongguk seems to have used up all of his patience. 

“What did they want, Jimin-ah,” he asks, and when Jimin turns to look at him he can see discomfort written clearly in everything from his posture to the way he’s biting his nails. He’s nervous, trying to hide it like usual, but Jimin can tell. He can always tell.

“What do you think,” he sighs, no bite in his tone. “Recall anything that went on last night that might have made them mad?”

“I don’t give a shit about them.”

“I think we’ve established that,” Jimin huffs, waving around the spatula in his hand.

"I wanna know why they're taking it out on you instead of calling me ."

“I'm your manager, Jeongguk. It's literally my job to manage you." 

He repeats the words Soohan spoke to him last night, even though they leave a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Other than the provocative performance you put on, Soohan was upset about other issues as well, like the clothes, for one.”

“You think I was provocative,” Jeongguk questions with a smug smirk, and Jimin gives him an unimpressed look. 

“That's all you got from that? Focus, please.”

“It’s a legitimate question.”

“You’re just searching for compliments.”

“So the answer is yes?”

Jeongguk laughs when Jimin glares at him. 

“Fine, continue.”

“Someone posted pictures of me watching from backstage,” Jimin starts to explain, flipping the eggs before they can burn.

“So.”

“There’s pictures and videos all over twitter of you holding my hand, again . Combined with yesterday’s tabloid article, people are starting to speculate.”

“And I give a fuck what they think because why?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to,” Jimin reprimands, plating the eggs and placing them on the counter so he can start preparing the bread.

Jeongguk looks miffed, rolling his eyes as he tucks a long strand of hair behind his ear, but he doesn't press the issue. 

“So what now?”

“Now,” Jimin starts, getting distracted as he delicately places the eggs over the toast. “Now it has been advised that we are seen together as little as possible.”

“No.”

Jimin’s eyes shoot up, taking in Jeongguk’s hardened features and firm resolve. He looks furious at the mere suggestion. 

“Jeongguk-”

“No, Jimin.”

Finishing preparing the food, Jimin sighs as he sets down a plate in front of the younger man.

“Look, I don’t like it anymore than you do, but I was basically told that someone else would be hired on if I didn’t want to cooperate. It might be a good idea to not make waves right now, you know? Pick our battles.”

“I have lawyers for a reason, Jimin, if they want to start making threats we can all have a discussion on where their ethics stand.”

Jimin sighs. He knew that Jeongguk would fight him on it, but he's still frustrated for being right. 

“You go ahead, but I’m going to listen to the suggestion. For now, at least.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re my manager, Jimin, I need you with me.”

“Relax, the only thing that’s gonna change is instead of arriving with you during schedules, I’ll just meet you there, that way there won’t be any new “incriminating” photos published of us and the story dies down.”

Jeongguk looks at him for a good ten seconds before shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is bullshit.”

“I know. Now eat your breakfast.”

-

Jeongguk is in a foul mood when he arrives at the KBS studio, and Jimin doesn’t want to think it has anything to do with the fact that they had to take separate vehicles. 

They still haven’t addressed what happened; or almost happened, last night, and Jimin is simultaneously grateful and disappointed. Despite Tae's advice, there will always be a part of him that's terrified of ruining what he has with Jeongguk. Of losing him…

But he doesn't have time to think about it now, not when Taehyung himself is fast approaching him with the same look he wears whenever he's irritated.

"What's wrong," Jimin questions, immediately ready to fix whatever is making him upset.

"He's being difficult. Doesn't wanna wear the damn clothes."

"But he picked them out."

"I know," Tae exclaims, looking as if he's about to pull his hair out in frustration. Just then, Hoseok walks up, a thick brush in one hand.

"What is it," Jimin asks, already dreading the answer.

"He won't let me do his hair. Says he wants to keep it tied up."

"Oh for fucks sake."

They both look at him apologetically, sympathy in their eyes and Jimin lets out a tired breath.

"I'll talk to him."

"He's in the changing room," Taehyung calls after him and Jimin flashes a grateful smile over his shoulder. 

'The changing room' looks more like a closet, and is just as big. He finds Jeongguk there, shirtless, pants opened and barely hanging on to his hips, the top of his plain, black boxer briefs with the Calvin Klein logo staring back at him. He doesn't acknowledge Jimin entering, his focus remaining on the screen of his phone, swiping along with his thumb, a bored expression on his face. 

Jimin tries to gather his wits. It's bad enough trying to deal with Jeongguk fully clothed, and it's another story entirely when he's half naked, tattoos on display, hair pulled up in a ponytail on top of his head with his damn underwear showing.

"Jimin," Jeongguk greets, but he keeps his gaze resolutely on his phone while Jimin attempts to keep his own above the singer's neck.

“Jeongguk. I hear there’s a problem with the clothes.”

The singer shrugs, still not giving Jimin his attention. 

“I don’t wanna wear them.”

“Why not?”

“They’re ugly.”

“You chose them,” Jimin reminds him, doing his best to remain calm. 

“I didn’t think they were ugly before.”

“but you do now?”

“I do now,” Jeongguk reaffirms, a self-satisfied smirk peaking at the corners of his lips. 

“And your hair?”

Jeongguk shrugs again.

“Don’t feel like having it messed with today. Is that a problem,” he asks, finally looking up at Jimin through hooded eyes, his gaze holding an unmistakable challenge, and Jimin knows he’s not going to win this, not if he handles Jeongguk the way he usually does and plays fair…

“No problem,” Jimin answers, his voice calm, apathetic, almost. 

“Can you get me some new clothes, then? Ones that aren’t ugly?” he snidely requests, attention back on his phone.

Jimin sighs, forcing himself to relax before closing in on the singer, leaving barely any space between them. He watches Jeongguk’s eyes widen, body stiff and muscles tense as he sucks in a breath, skin flush, stomach quivering. 

Jimin feels a thrill run through him, he's constantly on the other side of Jeongguk's advances and innuendos, forced to remain the sensible one. Seeing Jeongguk like this is something he could very quickly become addicted to. 

“What-”

“I just wanna see,” Jimin explains, voice soft, sweet almost. “You said they were ugly, but everything looks good on you, so let me see.”

Jeongguk practically splutters, and Jimin can’t help the satisfaction he feels at the visible effect he has on the man, but it doesn’t stop his hands from shaking as he reaches out for Jeongguk's smooth, black pants, and begins to pull the button through the hole, slowly zipping them up until they’re closed.

It feels similar to all the other times he’s helped Jeongguk dress, the air electrically charged, but for some reason it’s heavier, more intense. It could have to do with what happened last night, how they had both lost control, and now everything feels so tenuous, like a poorly balanced weight ready to tip over the edge with the slightest movement. 

Jeongguk is looking at him as if Jimin is an unknown variable, dangerous and unpredictable in what he’ll do next, and maybe he’s right. He's not even sure what he's capable of doing.

Jimin grabs the shirt, a silky thing that’s mostly white with a black design that looks like ink splatters, pretty, and unbelievably soft to the touch. 

“Arms up,” he instructs, and with his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, Jeongguk surprisingly obeys.

Jimin threads his arms through the shirt sleeves, then pulls the collar over his head, noting how blown Jeongguk’s pupils are as soon as he gets the shirt on. Jimin keeps his eyes on him, even as he tucks the hem into his pants, trying to hide his full body shiver at the heat he feels emanating from Jeongguk's skin. He attempts to pull himself together, knowing that he's played himself as much as he's played Jeongguk, maybe himself moreso, but Jimin tries to pretend he's unaffected, smoothing out the creases of Jeongguk's shirt like he's not internally panicking. 

Jimin sees his plan through, holding Jeongguk's gaze captive just as his hands travel up to his bound hair, fingers finding the tie. 

“Let me,” he asks again, remaining still until Jeongguk swallows, Adam's apple quivering before he gives a small, almost imperceptible nod. 

Jimin gently unwinds the band, slipping it free of the soft, black strands, and runs his fingers through them as soon as they’re free, admiring how easy it is to comb through, his hair having the penchant to curl. Jeongguk’s lids flutter, eyes rolling up in pleasure as he releases a satisfied hum. Jimin’s heart speeds up even more, but continues with his touch, massaging his scalp and framing the strands along his cheeks, his hair falling just above his shoulders. 

Jeongguk’s eyes are still closed when Jimin takes a step back, putting more space between them. When he inspects his work, it’s mostly to keep up the act, he already knows the man looks good, but now he’s got him dressed and ready to get his hair done without having to fight about it.

“I don’t see what you mean,” he claims, meeting Jeongguk’s heated stare. “You look good to me.”

Jeongguk’s breath hitches, and even through his shirt Jimin can see the way his chest rises and falls, taking deep even breaths like he’s trying to calm down. Something about the look on his face makes Jimin shudder, as if the man has figured out exactly what he’s doing and is plotting revenge. 

Jeongguk pulls away from the shelves, no longer relying on them to keep himself upright, bringing himself closer.

“Do I look good to you, Jimin-ah,” he asks, taking another step forward, and Jimin really should’ve accounted for this. 

“You always look good to me,” he answers honestly, ignoring the urge to back up, forcing himself to hold his ground. 

Jeongguk looks pleased by the praise, but it doesn’t stop him from closing in, looming over Jimin and taking advantage of their slight difference in height. 

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” he mutters, eyes traveling over every inch of Jimin’s face, like he wants to commit it to memory.

“Maybe not, but I am clever,” Jimin retorts, watching the pleased smile that spreads fully over Jeongguk’s pretty lips.

“Oh, you are very clever. Far too clever for your own good.”

“And you’re far too difficult for your own good,” Jimin counters, reaching up and tugging on a silky strand of hair, inky black against his golden skin. 

“Not too difficult for you, apparently. You handle me just fine.”

“I wouldn’t have to handle you if you’d just do what you’re told.”

“Make me,” Jeongguk challenges, leaning down close enough for their lips to be nearly touching. Jimin can feel his cheeks flush, unable to look away from the singer, Jeongguk’s eyes trapping his own. 

He needs to derail this.

“Try to be flirty during the interview,” Jimin suddenly blurts out, wanting to shake his head at himself as Jeongguk raises a brow at him.

“Why,” he asks, tone slightly perturbed.

“To help quell the rumors. If people see you showing obvious interest in someone else, they'll stop believing we’re in a relationship. 

"We’re not in a relationship,” Jeongguk declares, as if Jimin needs the reminder.

“I know, this will just help solidify the fact that we aren’t together.”

“We aren’t,” Jeongguk emphasizes again, and it’s Jimin’s turn to raise a brow at him. 

“I know that .”

Jeongguk’s hand comes up so suddenly that Jimin jumps a bit, keeping still as the tip of Jeongguk’s thumb traces his bottom lip, and Jimin can feel the callouses from all those countless hours playing his bass has caused. 

“Haven’t even gotten to kiss you, yet,” Jeongguk murmurs like it's the biggest travesty, his eyes locked on Jimin’s mouth as if he can’t look away. “Do you know how much that drives me crazy, Jimin? The fact that I don’t know how that feels? How you feel? But people assume you're mine, even though you aren't.”

Jimin tries to answer, but really, what can he say?

His phone starts ringing, the sound shrill, echoing in the tiny space and making them pull away once more. 

Jeongguk looks beyond irritated at the interruption, but Jimin takes it as a reminder of where they are, and the scandal that’s starting to brew around the two of them. 

“Come on, let’s go see Hoseok,” he murmurs gently, taking Jeongguk’s hand in his own, and feeling warmth spread through him at the way his features visibly soften with his touch. Jimin leads him out of the makeshift changing room and directly towards Hoseok’s station. When Jeongguk is seated in the chair and Hoseok starts to go to work, Jimin checks his phone, seeing the missed call is from Lee Misuk, the music teacher from Seoul Arts School, returning his call from yesterday.

He leaves Jeongguk in Hoseok's care and calls her back. 

“Jimin-ah,” she says in greeting. “I got your message."

"What do you think," he asks, trying not to feel nervous. He can always come up with something else if she doesn't approve.

"The reason it took me so long to get back to you was because I was gaining permission from the school and the children's parents. Those who will be in attendance tomorrow have already agreed to it."

Jimin feels his heart soar, unable to put into words how grateful he is.

"I can't thank you enough, noona," he admits, a huge weight lifting from his shoulders.

"You've done more than enough for us, it's the least I could do," she answers, and Jimin can't help but smile. "You said tomorrow during the lunch hour?"

"Correct. I'll be there early to set up, just let me know where."

"The theater will do nicely, I think."

"The theater it is, then," Jimin agrees, a huge smile taking over his face. "We'll see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow," she agrees before they end the call.

-

Jimin watches the interview recording on the flatscreen in the dressing room, feeling the familiar anxiety over how Jeongguk is going to respond to certain questions, wondering if he'll be difficult, confrontational, or cordial. It's hard to predict, these days. 

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry, because Jeongguk actually listens to him. He flirts, and boy does he lay it on thick. He’s charming, scrunching his nose up cutely at the interviewer’s jokes, his gaze always attentive. Jimin can’t look away from him, watching him on the screen as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, pink tongue peeking out to trace across his plump bottom lip, “accidentally” dropping honorifics with an apologetic giggle that puts the other man under a spell. 

Jimin feels sick.

Being jealous isn’t really good form, and even more so when he was the one who instructed Jeongguk to act this way. Still...he can’t claim it doesn’t tear him up inside with something that feels a lot like heartache and inadequacy. 

He knows this. He understands it, but rationality doesn’t really mean shit when Jeongguk coyly places a hand on the man’s arm. 

Tae and Hoseok sit on either side of him, and Jimin can feel both of their eyes giving sidelong glances periodically to check his reaction. He feels like a fish in a bowl, faces pressed to the glass, eager to see what he’ll do.

At least Yoongi and Namjoon are doing an admirable job at keeping the interview on track, so it doesn’t get too awkward.

Just then, the dressing room door pushes open, one of the runners coming in with food for Aurum and the staff, Shinhye trailing behind him to help carry the bags. Jimin rushes to help, eager for a distraction, and staying busy has always helped. 

When he gets close enough to the man with the food, he stops short, staring him down incredulously, no doubt looking as if he’s one step away from losing his mind. It feels like that’s a very real possibility these days. 

“Were you smoking?”

It gets eerily quiet in the dressing room, and Jimin doesn’t need the man to confirm his answer, anyone can smell it on him and every bag of takeaway he’s brought back. 

The man shrugs and nods, unaffected by the manic look Jimin is wearing or by the tense atmosphere in the room.  

“Tae,” he calls suddenly, but Taehyung is already there, leading the man away, undoubtedly letting him know that Aurum no longer needs his services. 

“Shinhye,” he calls next, and she makes her way over to him from the table she had just set her share of the bags down on. 

“What do you need?” 

“It’s an interview question before anyone is hired,” he says, feeling panicked and strangely insulted. “It asks right on the application, ‘do you smoke?’”

“I know, you’ve always been very thorough about that.”

“Fuck me.”

“Tell me how to fix it,” Shinhye prompts, Hoseok coming up to stand next to her with a nod at Jimin. 

“Me too, I wanna help.”

Jimin pushes his panic and irritation aside and starts to gather his thoughts, reading off of a mental list.

“I need the food gone. Give it to the staff or donate it. Just get it out of anywhere Jeongguk will be.”

“I’m on it,” Hoseok assures, gathering the bags back up and exiting the room with them.

“And me,” Shinhye questions.

“I need a brand new order placed and picked up, and I need this room not to smell like cigarettes.”

“Got it.”

“And find out who hired that guy,” he yells after her retreating back, running a nervous hand through his hair. 

Shinhye is back in less than a minute, a giant bag hugged to her chest that she passes off to Jimin, groaning when he takes it from her.

“The hell is in this,” he asks, shifting to set the bag down on a nearby chair. 

“Candles, incense, sprays, lighters, plug-ins. All his favorite scents. I’ve already placed another order for the food, I just have to go get it.”

Jimin is so grateful he feels like he’s about to break down and cry. 

“Remind me to-”

“Give me a raise, I will, promise,” she says with a smile over her shoulder as she rushes out the door. 

Jimin starts strategically placing candles, and when both Hoseok and Taehyung return they help him to light each one, turning on the fans in the room to try and filter the air.

Anyone who knows Jeongguk, knows just how much he despises cigarettes. His father was a heavy smoker, enough for Jeongguk to acquire a strong distaste for the habit that even the smell offends him, and Jeongguk has a very sensitive nose.

Jimin taps his foot in nervousness, checking his watch again for the fifth time. Shinhye’s still not back, and the interview is wrapping up. Five minutes prior, he blew out all the candles, the overpowering fragrance giving him a headache and making his eyes water and burn. 

It should be enough to mask the smell. The man was only around briefly…

The interview wraps up. Shinhye still isn’t back yet.

Yoongi is the first to enter, followed by Namjoon. Neither of them comment on the lack of food, but their eyes sweep the room, searching, but not complaining when they don’t find what they’re looking for. Jeongguk takes a while longer before he enters, and a bitterness fills Jimin up as he wonders if he was busy still flirting with that interviewer, maybe getting his number.

When he does finally make an appearance, it’s the first thing he says.

“Where’s the food?”

Behind him, Shinhye squeezes her way through the door, bless her. 

“Here it is,” she exclaims, sounding slightly out of breath, and Jimin makes a mental note to give her a bonus on top of her raise. He mouths a ‘thank you’ when she looks his way, giving a small smile as she inclines her head. 

The room still smells of vanilla, those expensive candles Shinhye had brought doing the trick. Or, at least he thinks they are, until Jeongguk angles his body towards him, head tilted, staring with narrowed eyes and an intense kind of focus that makes Jimin nervous. 

While Shinhye lays out the food; Namjoon and Yoongi eagerly hovering closeby, Taehyung and Hoseok back to their designated tasks, Jeongguk slowly and purposefully makes his way towards Jimin. 

He stands before him, barely a foot of space between them, and he just...stares, looking at Jimin like nothing else matters, uncaring about his bandmates bickering in the background, or when Shinhye informs him his food is on the table before she leaves the room. Only once she’s gone does Jeongguk finally move, clicking his tongue three times and shaking his head in disappointment. 

“It smells like cigarettes in here, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin knows he should be pulling his hair out in frustration right about now, but his body feels otherwise, a spike of arousal running through him at Jeongguk’s cocky expression, as if he's caught him misbehaving. He’s got one, perfectly shaped brow raised, and his entire demeanor seems to scream ‘self-entitlement.’ 

Jimin forces himself to remain impassive, shoulders squared and head held high. 

“One of the former runners didn’t understand the no smoking stipulation,” he answers evenly, pulling his phone out when it begins to vibrate. 

“Former,” Jeongguk practically purrs, intrigued.

“I had him fired,” Jimin reveals as he quickly scans the message from Shinhye.

“And who hired him?”

“Soohan did,” he answers, holding up his phone to the singer, where onscreen, a picture of the man’s application is shown, Soohan’s signature of approval in the bottom right corner.

Jeongguk’s jaw tightens, a fire burning in his eyes that Jimin can’t help but worry over.

“It seems he wants to play games with me,” he mutters under his breath, and Jimin immediately regrets his decision to tell him. 

“It was probably a mistake, Jeongguk-ah,” he tries to soothe, but he can tell before he’s even got all the words out that Jeongguk won’t be convinced. 

“Is the shit that he's putting you through a mistake?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Jimin doesn’t know, Because Jeongguk Isn't supposed to know. He can't be talking about what Jimin fears he's talking about, can he? He’s always done everything he can to keep Soohan’s rude disposition and endless complaints away from Jeongguk, wanting nothing more than to protect him from that side of things, already having to deal with so much. And yet, the way Jeongguk looks at him, it’s as if he’s been made privy to that secret, and will tolerate it no more, it's unnerving. 

It’s not possible, though. The only one who knows is Shinhye. 

Shinhye-

“When you were called down to the office last night, I had a conversation with your PA. Took awhile, but I managed to get enough out of her to put the pieces together. How long has he been harassing you like this? And how long were you gonna keep it from me?”

Jimin’s eyes widen, Jeongguk’s own gaze is hard, his tone obviously upset and laced with a kind of disappointment that doesn’t sit well with him. The only thing he’s done is try to make Jeongguk’s life easier.

“Not now, okay,” Jimin instructs, trying to be the voice of reason. “We’ll talk about this at home.”

“Then let’s go.”

Jimin gapes at him incredulously, but quickly recovers.

“No, Jeongguk-ah. We’ll leave when you’re done here,” he says firmly, allowing no room for argument. Something peculiar flashes in the rockstar’s eyes that he can’t quite place, but when he blinks it’s gone.

“Fine, but we ride in the same car, understood?”

“Only if you behave,” he shoots back, surprised at himself as much as Jeongguk looks surprised at him. 

“I’ll be good for you,” he promises, and just like that, the atmosphere shifts, electricity crackling between them for a completely different reason now. 

“Go eat,” Jimin orders him, and with a smile far too smug, Jeongguk does as he’s told. 

Jimin turns and leaves the room, needing some air and deciding to go for a walk to help clear his head. He doesn't get more than ten feet when he nearly runs into the interviewer Jeongguk had been flirting with.

Because that's exactly what he needs right now.

"You're Jeongguk-ssi's manager, correct?"

Jimin nods limply, already getting a bad feeling.

The man looks around, Clearly anxious, not bothering to introduce himself before he continues.

"I want to be discrete, so please, if you could just give this to him, I would greatly appreciate it."

Jimin takes the offered envelope without a word, watching as the man walks quickly away. He wants nothing more than to dump it in the nearby trash can, but that's not his place. He puts it in his back pocket instead and keeps moving. 

He's not gone for very long, and when he returns, they're starting to get ready to pre-record their performance of Tastes like Obscenity that'll be broadcast later.

Jimin forgets about the envelope and helps Jeongguk prepare, like he usually does, but like the interview, decides to watch from the dressing room this time. 

Jeongguk performs brilliantly and he behaves perfectly. This rendition is a more tame version to that of last night, but just as entertaining.

They don't exchange many words once he finishes, even when they both stoically climb into the same car. Sejin flashes them a concerned, curious look before he drives them to their building. 

They remain quiet until they make it home, Jimin pressing the button to his floor and trying not to feel as if he’s done something wrong when Jeongguk raises a brow at him.

“We can both shower then I’ll meet you at yours,” he explains, knowing that Jeongguk probably thinks he’s just trying to avoid the issue.

Maybe he is, a little.

“Any more than twenty minutes and I’m coming to find you,” he warns, smirking when Jimin visibly shivers at his words. 

They part ways, and Jimin makes sure he doesn’t go over Jeongguk’s allotted time, even though he kind of wants to.

Just to see what the singer would do.

When he goes up to Jeongguk’s penthouse, he’s nervous, and for a moment he wonders if he should knock or let himself in like he always does. He shakes his head at himself. If he acts differently now, he’ll only draw attention to it, so he enters the code to Jeongguk’s door and lets himself in.

He finds him sitting on the couch in the living room, eyes on his phone, hair still wet with comfortable looking gray sweats on and a plain white shirt. He looks up when Jimin sits on the chair across from him, not trusting himself to be too close right now. Not when there’s so much tension between them. 

Jeongguk sets his phone down, giving his full attention but stubbornly remaining silent. Jimin doesn’t know what to say, or where to start, so he remains quiet, too, and for awhile, no one moves or speaks. They just stare at each other.  

“How long has Hwang Soohan been giving you shit,” Jeongguk questions first, and the sudden noise makes Jimin almost jump. He thinks about it, unsure how to soften the words before the rockstar gets impatient. 

“He’s always been an asshole,” he reveals honestly, “but it didn’t really amount to anything until people started making complaints about you to the company.” 

“Why wasn’t I informed?”

“I didn’t want you to be,” Jimin mumbles quietly, nervous over the look in Jeongguk’s eyes. “Everything goes through me, anyway, and I didn’t want it to make things worse for you. I thought if you could just get whatever it was out of your system that was making you so upset, then things would go back to normal and it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“So you’ve been carrying this quietly for nearly two months?”

Jimin nods.

“You should’ve said something. You should’ve told me.”

Jimin knows that, but he also knows that Jeongguk’s being a hypocrite right now. 

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

He scoffs, suddenly irritated. 

“You wanna tell me what's got you upset enough to be acting out in the first place?"

"It's nothing to worry about."

Jimin's mouth falls open in disbelief.

"What do you mean it's nothing to worry about? It's been affecting you for awhile now, so I'd say it's something to worry about."

"I'm dealing with it, Jimin."

"Not very well you aren't."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Jimin freezes, his expression settling into a cold glare.

"I know you didn't just say that when you literally just scolded me for doing the same thing."

Jeongguk looks chagrined, suddenly finding his nails interesting as Jimin waits for an answer.

"It's stupid." 

"Why would it be stupid if it's how you feel?"

Jimin continues to wait for an explanation, but Jeongguk remains stubbornly silent.

"Right," he mutters, throat suddenly feeling tight, eyes flying around the room with the sudden onslaught of emotions he desperately doesn't want to face.

Jimin doesn't understand why Jeongguk won't tell him? Did he do something that caused the carefully cultivated trust between them to come into question?

Not knowing makes it worse, an invitation for his imagination to conjure the worst possible explanation.

He gains his feet, wiping his clammy palms along his pants, remembering that he brought the envelope the interviewer gave him. He pulls it out of his pocket and holds it out towards Jeongguk, refusing to look at him.

"That guy you were flirting with wanted me to give this to you."

Jimin can feel Jeongguk's piercing gaze, only meeting it when he refuses to take the offered paper.

"I flirted with him because you told me to."

"I did, but you seemed genuinely interested, so take it."

When Jeongguk does, Jimin tells himself the hurt that he feels is irrational and childish. But then his eyes widen, watching as he tears the envelope into tiny little pieces.

"The only person I'm interested in, is you. Everyone else is just a poor substitute. I want you, Jimin. Only you."

Jimin sucks in a breath, trembling while Jeongguk admits his feelings. They've danced around it for so long, implied it, and teased each other, but they've never made such a declaration before.

He wants nothing more than to return the sentiment, but everything is still so messed up, and Jeongguk has already refused to talk to him about what's bothering him. This doesn't feel right. 

"Jeongguk, we shouldn't-"

"If you don't feel the same, just tell me."

"I do, you know I do."

"Then why shouldn't we?"

Jimin sighs, his shoulders sagging with the weight he feels pressing down on him. How is he supposed to explain this in a way that Jeongguk understands and accepts? It's impossible, but he has to try.

"Things keep changing between us, and for the first time I feel like I can't reach you. You've shut me out. We used to tell each other everything, but now...I don't know what's going on, now. I don't want to go into this with things already driving us apart."

"Is this your way of making me tell you what's wrong?"

"This isn't an ultimatum, Jeongguk. Us being in a relationship isn't based off of a contingency. You'll tell me when you're ready, or you won't. I just don't think it's a good idea."

"And if I told you right now would you change your mind?"

Jimin wars with himself, but answers honestly.

"I don't know."

"Because you're scared."

It isn't a question.

"Of course I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified. What if it doesn't work out? What if it blows up in our faces."

"So you'd rather play it safe? Not pursue anything because you're afraid?"

"I'd rather keep things the way they are then risk you hating me, or losing you."

Jeongguk looks like he's been slapped, lips slightly open, his brow furrowed. It's almost too quiet to hear when he speaks.

"I could never hate you, Jimin. And you'll never lose me, not for anything."

"You don't know that," Jimin mutters, rubbing at the lids of his eyes. 

"Of course I do. You couldn't possibly understand what I feel for you if you think me capable of that."

Guilt seeps into him, but his fear outweighs it. As it stands, he'd rather remain friends then risk everything.

"I just don't think it's a good idea right now," Jimin whispers, hating himself as he says it.

After a moment, Jeongguk nods, Jimin's heart breaking with how upset he looks.

"Fair enough," he agrees. "Let me know if your feelings change."

Jimin inclines his head, knowing that if he tries to talk he'll most likely end up crying. 

Wordlessly, he leaves the penthouse.

-

He wakes up feeling sluggish and sad. Fighting with Jeongguk; no matter how big or small the argument, always takes a mental toll on him. Today was supposed to be a day off, but because of the club scandal and Soohan, he’s stuck organizing a photo op. At least it’s at the school. 

Jeongguk has always been good with children, and even more so with children who have a genuine interest in music. He's hoping that'll make it bearable for him.

Jimin takes his time getting ready. It’s only eleven and he doesn’t have to be at the school till half past twelve. When he gathers all his things, he heads up to the penthouse with an anxious feeling in his gut. They didn’t exactly leave off on the best note last night, and Jimin knows he’s mostly to blame for that. He’s always had this self-imposed rule to try his hardest not to go to bed angry, or upset with the singer, but more often than not, he usually breaks it, even though it makes him miserable. 

Jimin lets himself in, checking Jeongguk’s room but finding it empty. He spots the grammy on his bedside table, turned on its side and acting as a bowl to hold what looks to be chocolate candies. Jimin sighs but leaves it, continuing his search.  He isn’t in the bathroom, nor his home office or studio.

Jeongguk probably woke up early to go to the gym, even though Jimin knows for sure he doesn’t have anything scheduled with his trainer, and he didn’t rent it out. He sometimes goes spontaneously, though, so it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Still, a part of him had hoped that they could talk things out between them before leaving. 

Jimin checks his phone, disappointed to see he has no missed calls or texts. He sends one of his own.

Don’t forget Seoul Arts School at one! Sejin will pick you up at home. If you’re going to be somewhere else, just let him know and he’ll go there instead.

Jimin waits, but doesn’t hear anything back. When five minutes pass, his phone finally vibrates with a new message, but it’s from Shinhye. 

Shinhye 12:24pm - I’m here

With one last glance around the penthouse, Jimin leaves and makes his way down to the parking garage. 

Shinhye knows something’s wrong as soon as he slides into the passenger seat, but she keeps quiet until they’re on their way, knowing how much he hates to be late. 

“Are you okay,” she asks softly, keeping her eyes on the road, and Jimin is grateful not to have the scrutiny.

He sighs, shaking his head even though she can’t see. 

“We talked last night, and it didn’t end very well. Thought I could fix things before we left but he wasn’t home.”

Shinhye makes a humming noise in understanding, glancing at him quickly before returning her gaze out the windshield. 

“I’m sure you’ll patch things up after this. You two are usually joined at the hip,” she says with a smile. Jimin wants to agree, but he’s still unsettled, and can’t shake the feeling that he might’ve messed things up permanently.

They arrive at the school on time, and Jimin is kept busy enough to remain distracted. Misuk opens the theater for them and Jimin directs photographers, and videographers that the company has hired for the event.    

At ten minutes to one, the children start filtering into the theater, most; if not all, accompanied by at least one parent. Jimin spots Kim Yoonhe right away, the girl excitedly skipping over to him, completely ignoring her parents calling after her. They’re carrying an instrument case, and Jimin knows it’s a bass guitar. 

“Jimin oppa,” she greets with the brightest smile that Jimin can’t help but return. “Is Jeongguk-ssi really coming today?”

“He is.”

“Will he sign my bass?”

“I’m sure he will if you ask him to.”

“I can’t believe he’s coming to my school,” she mumbles to herself giddly before looking back up at him. “He’s my favorite, and one day I’ll play as good as him. Maybe even better.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Jimin warns with a fond smile. “He’ll probably take it as a challenge, and he takes those seriously. He’s very competitive.” 

“I’ll definitely tell him, then.”

Jimin chuckles at her pluck, watching her skip back to her parents, checking the time on his phone and frowning. It’s nearly one and Jeongguk still isn’t here. He’s got two messages and a missed call, but they’re all from Sejin. 

There’s a tap on his shoulder then, and when Jimin turns around he sees Shinhye, her expression a familiar one of worry. She’s holding her phone out to him, motioning to it with a nod. 

“It’s Sejin,” she tells him, and Jimin feels his stomach drop. 

This isn’t going to be good news.

Jimin brings the phone to his ear with a heavy sigh. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where he is,” he answers plainly. “I’m at the penthouse but he’s not here and he won’t take my calls. Everything goes straight to voicemail.”

Fuck.

“Let me try and then I’ll call you back.”

“Okay.” 

Jimin hangs up quickly and calls Jeongguk, but just like Sejin said, it goes straight to voicemail. He doesn’t bother with leaving a message, and instead rings Sejin again. 

“Any luck?”

“Nothing. Stay there for ten more minutes. If he doesn’t show up, call me back and I’ll come up with something.”

“Got it.”

When Jimin hangs up this time, Shinhye is already biting her nails.

“We’re screwed,” she whispers, and Jimin can’t help but silently agree to the sentiment. If Soohan hadn’t made such a big deal about them being seen together, they would have rode in the same car and Jeongguk would be here now. 

“If he doesn’t show up in the next ten minutes, I’ll make an excuse,” Jimin assures her, trying not to break at the sympathetic look she gives him. She knows how much he hates lying, how is he supposed to do it to a bunch of kids? Not just any kids, but the ones he’s grown attached to, and tried to help whenever he could. Of all the times Jeongguk chose to fuck off, why did he have to do it today, when he knows how much this school, this program and these children mean to him. 

Yoonhe is going to be so upset. 

He looks over at her now, still jumping in place, practically vibrating with her excitement. Fuck, he’s going to have to watch that fizzle out and die, replaced by bitter disappointment. Jimin feels like he’s going to be sick…

“He could still make it,” he says, trying to convince himself, because the alternative is too painful to think about. 

With every minute that goes by, everyone seems to get more antsy. People shuffle their feet, check their watches, and look to Jimin with expectations and confusion, just as his own hope slowly fades away. 

When he answers the incoming call from Sejin, he already knows what he’s going to say.

“He’s still not here, and I still can’t get a hold of him.”

Jimin’s eyes fall closed as he attempts to swallow the lump in his throat. 

“Thank you, Sejin. You can go ahead and go home for the day.”

“Sorry, Jimin-ah,” he says gently, and Jimin nods even though he can’t see it, because if he tries to assure him it’s okay, he’ll probably break down or something. 

This next part isn’t going to be pleasant. 

“Let me tell them,” Shinhye insists, but Jimin’s already shaking his head, because that wouldn’t be fair to anyone, and he doesn’t want to pass off this responsibility just because it’s going to be difficult. 

“I’ll tell them. They deserve to hear it from me, even if it is a lie.”

Shinhye looks worried and nervous, so Jimin gently squeezes her arm in reassurance before taking a deep, steadying breath and walking over to Misuk. She’s already anxious when he approaches her.

“Some of the parents are wondering what’s taking so long,” she admits, wringing her hands together. 

Jimin feels horrible already and he hasn’t even said anything yet. 

“I-I’m so sorry, noona,” he stutters, stumbling over his words in an obvious tell of his nerves. “I just got a call that there’s been a family emergency, and he won’t be able to make it today.”

She blinks at him, her eyes appearing far bigger in her large rimmed glasses. 

“Oh...oh, well...that’s terrible to hear, I hope everything is okay. Perhaps we could reschedule if everything turns out alright.”

“I hope we can as well,” Jimin agrees sincerely.

“I can tell the children-”

“If it’s okay, I would like to let them know.”

She motions towards the gathering of students and parents with a nod. 

“If you’re sure.”

Jimin approaches the center of the theater, coughing loudly until he has the attention of every person in the room. 

“Hello everyone,” he starts shakily, forcing himself to remain still rather than fidget nervously, like he wants to. “I want to thank you all for coming today, but unfortunately, I must apologize. I just received word that there’s been an urgent family emergency that has called Jeongguk away, and he won’t be able to make it.”

A loud murmur starts up, filled with disgruntled and confused mutterings underlaid with the sounds of disappointed whines and groans from the children. 

“Well, is he going to reschedule,” an indignant voice calls, and before Jimin can locate them another voice speaks up. 

“Yeah, what about the kids?”

And then another and another. 

“We will reschedule once he has taken care of his family, and is available. As soon as we know when that will be, we will make sure everyone is informed. Any other questions, please come see me one at a time. Thank you.”

-

For the next forty minutes, Jimin deals with anger and rudeness. Most are mad that they were denied the chance to meet a celebrity. Some try to wrangle private details out of him, attempting to dig into Jeongguk’s private life as they ask questions concerning the type of family emergency he’s having, unaware or uncaring of just how inappropriate that is, even if Jimin made it up.  

The worst part about it though, is seeing the looks of disappointment on the children’s faces, denied the chance to meet one of their idols. Yoonhe looks as if she’s holding back tears, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to see her this way. She’s always spoken excitedly about her admiration for Aurum and Jeongguk, animatedly describing what she would do if she ever got the chance to meet him. 

She leaves without a word, grabbing her mother’s hand and walking forlornly out of the theater, her father trailing behind, still carrying her bass guitar. Jimin has never felt lower. 

He sticks around for a while, making sure the photographers and videographers pack away their stuff. When he finally exits the school, he feels wrung out and emotionally drained. Shinhye must sense it, because she leads him towards the car, a gentle arm wrapped around his own.

What is he supposed to do now? How does he fix this? Why would Jeongguk not even show up?

As if in answer, his phone rings.

It's Soohan, because of course it is. He always has a knack for calling Jimin when he already feels horrible.

“Hello?”

“What’s the excuse this time, Park? Do you know how many calls I’ve received from angry and upset parents complaining about their kids whining? What about the staff that was paid for nothing? Where is Jeongguk and why are you so incompetent when it comes to doing your job and keeping him in line?”

Jimin’s heart hammers in his chest, hands trembling, his body feeling numb. How is he supposed to even defend himself at this point. He’s never really believed Soohan’s words and insults before, but right now, he’s not so sure…

“Nothing to say? You know what’ll happen if one of these complaints reaches the media, right? You know how bad that’ll look for him? Jeongguk, breaking promises and the hearts of children. Catchy article title, huh?”

The shaking has spread throughout Jimin’s entire body now. Shinhye looks even more concerned next to him, and Jimin knows he’s going to say or do something stupid. He’s just trying to hold it together until this conversation ends. 

“I hope you know what this means. I’m done with your ineptitude. Now I have to hire someone to basically do your job for you since you’ve proven yourself incapable. And since you’re hired through Jeongguk and not by the company, you can continue to get paid for doing nothing, just like you’ve always done.”

Jimin’s anger and hurt overflows, and he can feel the words start to tumble out with no way to bottle them back up again.

So much for holding it together.

“I’ve done more for him than you ever will, and I did it better than anyone you could hope to find. What the fuck do you do, besides sit behind a desk and complain all day. Why don’t you get off your ass and make yourself useful instead of whining all the time?”

It’s quiet across the line for a second before Soohan seems to choke and wheeze, and Jimin has never felt so satisfied. Poor Shinhye looks like she’s about to pass out.

“You watch yourself, Park Jimin-”

“I can say whatever I want, Hwang Soohan, because I quit! But as you pointed out, I don’t work for you, so you can fuck right off. Good luck finding someone to replace me, though.”

He’s breathing heavy when he hangs up, an elated kind of feeling coursing through him as he stares at his phone, a laugh bubbling passed his lips. When he looks back up at Shinhye, she looks upset, and Jimin fully registers what he just did.

"You're quitting," she asks quietly, and his elation abruptly ends. Is he? Can he really bring himself to walk away, after everything? Leave Jeongguk to handle this alone?

Jimin thinks about Taehyung saying they're too codependent. How Jeongguk has been shutting him out, acting angry and irritable, developing a dislike for this lifestyle he chose. 

For once, he thinks of himself and the stress he's had to undertake. His feelings for Jeongguk adding to it, and the confusion and strain it has put on how he handles his job.

He thinks of Yoonhe and her disappointed face…

“I think I should,” he answers honestly. 

Things are only going to get worse with the arrival of the new hire Soohan is already planning to implement, and even though Jeongguk will always take his side, Jimin will constantly be undermined. The company will no longer go through him, and there really won’t be anything either of them could do about it. Jeongguk could make a fuss, but for a while, at least, Soohan would be proven correct that Jimin would technically be paid for doing nothing. He probably wouldn’t even be privy to the schedule anymore, and what good’s a manager that can’t even manage?

When he looks back at Shinhye, horrified to see that she appears to be on the verge of tears. He’s never, in all their time together, seen her cry. He curses himself for being so insensitive and pulls her into his arms, gently rubbing her back in what he hopes to be a comforting manner. 

“Please don’t cry,” he pleads, her small frame shaking against his own. “I think it’s best if I take a step back for awhile. Might not be permanent,” he says, trying for optimism. “I promise, whatever happens, you’re still going to be my assistant. You won’t be affected by this at all,” he swears. “Except you’ll have a lot more downtime until I can figure something out.”

Jeongguk has always paid him generously, and he has way more money than he even knows what to do with, so he isn’t worried about it. 

“Don’t be sad,” he murmurs, pulling back and looking into her teary eyes. “You can finally take a vacation.”

She gives a watery laugh before nodding emphatically, wiping her tears away as Jimin watches her try to gather herself. 

“I’m gonna call Jeongguk, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jimin steps away, gazing at his phone again and seeing it devoid of any messages. The only missed calls he has are from Soohan, surprisingly enough. No doubt attempting to reach him after his outburst. He dials Jeongguk’s number again, desperate to know where he can find him. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have over the phone. 

Jeongguk doesn’t answer. 

“Fuck,” Jimin mutters, immediately trying again. Again, he doesn’t answer. This actually isn’t like him, and Jimin is starting to worry. What if something happened to him, and that’s why he never showed? 

Jimin tries to message the singer, knowing it’s probably futile, but needing to try. 

Please just let me know you’re ok.

He isn’t expecting anything, so he jumps when his phone vibrates with an incoming message. 

Jk 2:10pm - I’m busy, Jimin. We’ll talk later.

Well...

Jimin can’t really explain it, but the dismissiveness he imagines in those words, coupled with Jeongguk’s obvious lack of remorse for missing today’s event; when he knows how much Jimin cares about this school and all the children in the music program, feels like a slap to the face. 

He didn’t even bother to give an explanation…

Now he’s the one who feels dangerously close to crying. He didn’t want to do this over the phone, but Jimin wants to be the one to tell him, before Soohan beats him to it. And he’s not sure he can keep this in for much longer, especially when he doesn’t even know where Jeongguk is, and the singer doesn’t seem inclined to tell him. 

Jimin tries calling him again, trying not to become even more emotional when Jeongguk sends him straight to voicemail. As soon as he hears the beep, he takes in a deep breath, knowing he’s not going to make it through this without breaking down a bit. 

“Hi,” he mumbles, feeling ridiculous at the forced enthusiasm in his tone. “I um, I’m not really sure what happened today, or why you didn’t come...maybe it has to do with our conversation last night, maybe it doesn’t, but uh...It was really important to me. You know it was important, I’ve told you about this place a couple of times, so, you know how much it means to me. How attached I’ve gotten to the kids here.”

Jimin takes another deep breath and forces himself to continue. 

“There’s this girl, Yoonhe. She reminds me so much of you when we were younger. She talks about you a lot. All the kids know I work for you and where the instruments I donate to the program come from. She tells me all the time that you’re her idol. She was really excited to meet you today, but..fuck, you should’ve seen her face when I told them you weren’t coming.”

Jimin wipes at his eyes, sniffing angrily when his nose starts to run.   

“I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but maybe it’s better this way? Some of the parents complained to the company when you didn’t show, and Soohan was already threatening to hire someone else to do my job. He can’t fire me, obviously, but things are complicated right now and...I’m sorry, but I think it’s best if I step down as your manager,” he admits, suppressing the urge to cry down the line. He doesn’t need to make things worse. 

“I try not to worry you, so I keep things to myself, but honestly, everything has been kind of overwhelming lately, so, um, I think I’ll go stay with a friend for awhile, figure out my options and go from there. I’m not saying I’m leaving for good, I just think there isn’t much I can do. Just...take care of yourself, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jimin hangs up, immediately feeling regret and guilt. He really should’ve said all that in person, but then again, Jeongguk has always been stubborn and he would’ve undoubtedly refused his resignation. 

Quickly wiping his face, he turns back to Shinhye, feeling his shoulders slump when she looks at him with deep sympathy. 

“Come on,” she urges, wrapping her hand around his arm and pulling him towards her car. “I’ll take you home.”

-

Jimin does end up going back to his apartment, but only to pack a bag of clothes, gathering everything he can’t do without for the next couple of days, and then heads to Taehyung’s place. Jeongguk still hasn’t called by the time he makes it there, and Jimin doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful. 

Tae doesn’t pry, but Jimin ends up spilling everything to him in one emotionally rushed onslaught, the stylist rubbing his back and offering tissues the entire time. 

“Maybe he really did have a family emergency,” Taehyung suggests, tapping his chin in consideration. “Or something just as important came up.”

Jimin shakes his head wearily. “I’m sure no matter what it was, he would’ve had time to call and tell me. Or send a text, like he did when he told me he was busy.”

Tae hums, sounding disappointed with Jimin’s logic. 

“So, you’re really quitting?”

It’s difficult to try and ignore the way his chest tightens over those words, but he supposes that is the reality of it. 

“I don’t really see much of an option at this point,” he admits. “Soohan made it clear what he thinks of my work ethic, and he detailed how he’s going to undermine me as Jeongguk’s manager. He has the means to do it. I’m useless to Jeongguk like this, and I’ll just be a cause for contention.”

Taehyung frowns at his words, and Jimin tries to set his mind at ease. 

“I have plenty of money, I’ll be fine for a long while before I even have to consider my next step. This will give me a chance to take a break, and recharge.”

“I’m all for that, but I don't agree with that other part you said. I know for a fact things aren’t going to work out just because you’re no longer in the picture. You know Jeongguk won’t stand for that. He’s gonna wreck havoc on the whole company because of this.”

Jimin takes in a shuddering breath, hearing his fear spoken out loud is unnerving, but Taehyung knows Jeongguk almost as well as he does, and Jimin knows he’s absolutely right. Jeongguk won’t take this easily, and he’ll fight it till he gets his way. 

“Also, you do know that Soohan’s word isn’t set in stone, right? You can go above him, he’s not the final say on everything, he’s just the director in charge of Aurum, but there’s still someone in charge of him, and I’m pretty sure if you complained, people would start looking into all the horrible shit he’s done to you.”

Jimin shrugs, too drained to entertain the idea or give it hope. 

Taehyung’s about to argue when Jimin’s phone starts ringing. He stares at it with wide eyes, stomach swooping when he sees Jeongguk’s name on the screen. 

“Aren’t you gonna answer it?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure we’re both upset, I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret.”

“You mean you’re scared.”

It’s not a question, and Jimin vividly remembers Jeongguk calling him out the same way. 

He gives Taehyung a glare before returning his gaze back to his phone. When the screen dims and the ringing stops, Jimin sighs, telling himself he has no right to feel disappointed. 

He parts his lips to say something when his phone starts up again. 

“I doubt he’ll stop,” Tae mutters absently, running a hand through his fluffy hair. Jimin knows he’s right. Jeongguk won’t stop until he manages to get Jimin’s location out of him, and then he’ll come over and he won’t leave Jimin alone until he caves. He knows he should’ve told him his plan in person, but he still believes he’s doing the right thing by giving up his position, just as he knows Jeongguk won’t see it that way.

With a forced resolve, Jimin shuts off his phone.

“Wow, you’re really serious,” Taehyung observes, sounding worried, and Jimin shrugs one shoulder half-heartedly before curling back in on himself. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Tae’s gaze softens, his arm wrapping around Jimin and pulling him close into the warmth of his body.

“Because I know how you feel about him, Jimin-ah. You’re gonna hurt yourself in the end.”

“It’s unavoidable.”

“Have I ever told you that nearly all of your problems could be solved with a little communication?”

Jimin snorts, unable to help himself from finding amusement in those words, once again remembering that damn drama he started with Jeongguk not so long ago.

“It’s not that easy,” he tries, feeling ridiculous when Taehyung laughs in his face and cuddles him aggressively. 

“Seriously, just a simple conversation would do.”

-

Jimin keeps his phone off for two days straight, finding a strange kind of bliss from not having to be on call twenty-four seven.

He misses Jeongguk, though. Barely a minute goes by without the singer popping into his head. It’s been years since they’ve been apart for this long, work making it a necessity to live in each other’s pockets.

On his second day of continuous moping, he gets dressed into something presentable and decides to make an appearance at Seoul Arts School. He still doesn’t feel right about the way he left things, and a big part of him needs to make sure that Yoonhe is okay. It’s completely selfish, but he hopes he can manage to get her to forgive him.

When he arrives, it’s still lunch break, and Misuk is in the music room, eating at her desk. She flusters when she sees him, quickly wiping her hands and inclining her head. He returns the gesture somewhat awkwardly and begins to fidget where he stands.

“You caught me off guard,” she admits, sheepishly. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I should’ve called,” Jimin says by way of an apology, finding it difficult to meet her gaze. “I wanted to say sorry again for what happened on Tuesday. I never meant to disappoint you or the children.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, Jimin-ah,” she claims with a smile. “Besides, you more than made up for it.”

Jimin has no idea what she’s referring to, but he needs to find Yoonhe before the lunch break ends.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find Kim Yoonhe, do you?”

“She likes to practice in the theater during this time. Do you remember the way, or would you like me to show you?”

“No need,” he assures her. “I remember.”

Jimin lets her get back to eating and makes his way to the theater, the unmistakable sound of a bass guitar playing echoes through the halls. Jimin’s hit with a strong wave of nostalgia, and something about the music is so achingly familiar that his eyes suddenly fill with moisture. He misses the sounds of Jeongguk practising. His genuine smile when he comes up with something he likes, the tone of his voice when he gets excited.

Jimin misses him so much it's like a physical ache.

He spots Yoonhe as soon as he enters the theater, sitting on the stage, legs crossed, gaze intent. 

Jimin coughs loudly to get her attention, surprised when her eyes light up as soon as she sees him. He thought she would have still been upset, but instead, she eagerly urges him towards her.

“Listen to this,” she instructs, tentatively playing the opening notes of a song that Jimin recognizes to be Aurum’s. 

She does the entire intro with minimal mistakes, and Jimin is so proud that he claps once she’s finished, trying hard not to become an emotional wreck. 

"That was amazing."

"Thanks, I wanna get better at it, though."

“Mind if I sit,” he asks, gesturing to the empty spot next to her. She nods, her attention already back on the bass in her arms. 

“When did you learn that,” he wonders, swinging his legs in the air while she positions her fingers.

“Yesterday. Jeongguk oppa showed me.”

Jimin freezes, his eyes going wide as he stares at Yoonhe, still oblivious to anything but her bass.

“What do you mean Jeongguk showed you? He was here?”

She finally looks at him, brow furrowed when she nods. 

“He came by yesterday. Said he was sorry he couldn’t make it on Tuesday. Jeongguk oppa showed me how to play all kinds of songs, and how to hold my fingers better so they don’t hurt so much. And he signed my bass, see?”

She holds the instrument out to him, and there, written in silver marker, is Jeongguk’s familiar signature, further solidifying her story.

Jimin can’t really wrap his head around it. Jeongguk came here, on his own? Why? If he was going to go through the trouble, why didn’t he just show up when he was supposed to?

“I’m glad,” Jimin admits truthfully, knowing just how much she wanted the rockstar’s autograph. 

“You think he’ll come back? I’m having trouble with this one part, and I was hoping he could show me again.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jimin promises absently, his thoughts a jumbled mess, no clue as to what to do next.

Jimin remains in the theater with Yoonhe until her lunch break ends, then he waves her off to her next class with a promise to inform Jeongguk of her progress. He exits the school, opting for a walk instead of hailing a taxi back to Taehyung's. When he passes a nearby park, he sits on one of the available benches and finally turns his phone back on. 

There are several missed calls from Jeongguk, but strangely enough, his most recent one is from the company. The CEO to be more precise.  

Jimin has met the man a handful of times, mostly at company functions and year-end parties, enough for him to insist that Jimin call him 'hyung.'

He doesn't want to focus on this right now, but if he doesn't return the call it's just going to stay in the back of his mind and bother him until he takes care of it. Besides, it could have something to do with the logistics of his resignation…

He calls him back.

"Jimin-ah," the man answers, somehow managing to sound cheery and reprimanding all at once. "You've made quite a few people upset with your leave of absence, I'll have you know."

It’s tempting to correct him that he’s not on LOA, he quit. But he doesn’t want to deal with the headache.

"Hyung-"

"I have a few things I need to discuss with you, but I would prefer to do so in person. Do you have time?"

"When?"

"Now, if you're able."

Jimin knows better than to put it off.

"I'm on my way."

He lets out an exhausted sigh when the call ends, taking a moment to gather himself before he heads towards the company building. 

It's not a long walk, and the fresh air and sunlight feels as if it does him good. When he arrives, Jimin takes the elevator to the top floor, the secretary behind the desk buzzing him in.

Jimin can only describe the office as an obvious display of everything its owner seems to be interested in. There are shelves filled to the brim with books, both comics and novels. Interspersed throughout are obvious albums and old vinyls, an old record player in the corner, right next to a new looking sound system. There’s an interesting collection of crystals, and next to that is a similar collection of Mario figurines that Jimin can’t help but stare at. 

When he finally looks away and towards the desk that sits in front of the floor to ceiling windows, the man sitting behind it is already carefully appraising him. 

Kim Seokjin has always been a man with a carefree attitude, usually the one surrounded by people at gatherings, attempting to make them all laugh. Jimin has never felt wary of the man and he's never seemed insincere. He also doesn’t seem like the type to put on a facade in order to get the upper hand. Not at all like Soohan. But still, he’s nervous to be here, and the CEO is wearing an expression of firm resolve that he’s only seen once before, and that was when he was trying to get Jeongguk to sign with his company.

“Have a seat, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin does as he’s told without complaint, sliding down into one of the comfortable armchairs that’s angled towards the expensive, cherry-wood desk.

“I’ve been told, in no uncertain terms, to not go through with the conversation I’m about to have with you, and I’m sure you can guess who made that demand.”

“Jeongguk,” Jimin whispers, almost too quietly, but Seokjin hears him, if his nod is anything to go by. 

“Luckily for him, I don’t listen very well. We have that in common, I suppose,” he muses with a smirk, folding his hands together and using them to support his chin. 

Jimin isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say, and so far, he has more questions than answers, so he remains silent, and awaits an explanation. 

“I’m sure you can imagine that as the founder and CEO of a fledgling company, the sudden shot to notoriety was quite a shock.”

Jimin nods, even though he’s not sure what that has to do with anything. 

“We both know that with the addition of Jeongguk, both he and my company gained a lot more esteem and fame then we anticipated. Where I was once able to handle my projects personally, I found myself in a position where I had to hire others to act as my proxy. I’m saying this not because I’m trying to make excuses, but because I want you to understand my mistake and why it occurred.”

“...Mistake?”

“I do not tolerate harassment of any kind, Jimin-ah. I never have.”

Jimin suddenly gets a sinking suspicion of what this is going to be about, and he shifts nervously, trying not to show how uncomfortable he is.

“When we first started this journey together, I promised both you and Jeongguk that I could bring him the success he wanted without sacrificing his integrity as an artist and an individual. I had no intention of ever breaking that promise, but when the success and the demand poured in, I couldn’t handle things personally anymore, and I made the grave mistake of trusting Aurum with the wrong person.”

“Soohan-”

“Is no longer with my company.”

Jimin’s eyes widen at that, and he meets Seokjin’s determined gaze, speechless.

“Soohan was never given free reign to give ultimatums, or make huge decisions without running them by me, first. If he had a complaint, he was instructed to come forward, and I would look into the matter before determining the best course of action. He was not given permission to deal out punishments, or threats, and he certainly was never allowed to treat you in such a disrespectful manner, and for that, I apologize.”

Jimin grips the arms of his chair and swallows with difficulty before he gives a jerky nod in acceptance. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet, because to be honest, I’m a little upset with you as well."

Jimin's eyes widen at that, nervous, even though Seokjin wears a soft smile. 

"You should never allow yourself to be treated in such a way. If you weren't comfortable telling me directly, you could have gone to our resource team. I'm disappointed in myself that you felt you couldn't confide in anyone. We spend too much of our daily lives at work, so any type of hostile environment will not be tolerated."

Jimin’s fingers bury themselves in the material of his shirt, tugging on it nervously as he feels chastised. 

“Honestly, at first I felt the complaints were merited,” he admits, looking up in time to see Seokjin raise a brow. “Jeongguk can be difficult. He’s constantly late, or making demands, or refusing to do what he’s otherwise agreed upon. He hasn’t been the easiest person to work with lately, so when Soohan told me about all the trouble it was causing, I thought it was in everyone’s best interest if I just tried harder.”

Seokjin looks at him with something like sympathy before he shakes his head. 

“Being late, or difficult isn’t something I would consider a huge problem. We all have our good days and bad days, it happens. And it certainly doesn’t equate to a failing on your part. Since Jeongguk signed, I’ve heard nothing but the highest praise when it comes to you. Your work ethic is commendable, and I think you work hard enough already.”

Jimin gapes at him, unable to believe what he’s hearing.

“I don’t feel like I do,” he admits honestly. 

“Jeongguk doesn’t share your outlook. Tuesday he came barging in here, threatening to walk if there wasn’t some acknowledgement for all that you do, and if I didn’t do something about the way you were treated. Imagine my surprise, I had no idea there was even a problem.”

“Tuesday,” Jimin whispers, dazed. The day of the photo op at the school.

Seokjin nods.

“He explained to me what he knew was going on, what Soohan had done in terms of his restrictions, and what he had been doing to you, and he demanded a change or he was going to buy out his contract. Took me an hour just to calm him down, and another to convince him I would take care of it, and to stop him from confronting Soohan himself.”

Jimin’s eyes feel strangely watery, his thoughts mostly scattered to the wind as he goes over everything he’s just been told. Jeongguk didn’t show up that day because he was here. Not demanding more freedom, or slack from an over-controlling company. No, he was demanding that Jimin be treated better.

Fuck, he quit over a voicemail, and kept his phone off for two days…

Seokjin gives him a look as if he knows exactly what he’s thinking, and Jimin is inclined to think so when he speaks next.

“I’ve also been made aware that you’ve resigned.”

“He told you,” Jimin murmurs, watching the older man nod.

“Right before resigning himself.”

“He what ,” Jimin exclaims, his stomach twisting in knots.

“When he walked out, he said he was done. No one’s been able to get a hold of him since.”

“I um...I have to go,” Jimin decides suddenly, springing out of his chair, with no time or patience to work out why Seokjin looks so pleased. 

“Good luck,” he calls after him, but Jimin’s too preoccupied to respond. 

As soon as he makes it outside he hails a cab, giving his address and hoping for the best. Jeongguk has to be there. The only other place he really goes is the gym. He’ll try there next if he can’t find him. 

When Jimin finally makes it up to the penthouse, he hesitates as he automatically moves to enter in the code. After everything, it doesn’t feel right, so maybe for the first time ever, he rings the bell. 

A minute goes by, and still no answer. Jimin rings it again, just about to forget his own reservations and punch in the damn code when the door is yanked open. Jimin’s breath stutters out on a shaky exhale when he sees him. Jeongguk looks exhausted. Large, dark circles ring his eyes and his hair is a knotted mess on top of his head, his gaze apathetic until he registers that it’s Jimin standing there, then his eyes go wide, posture straightening as he takes him in. 

“You’re here,” he whispers almost reverently, and Jimin immediately tries to cut the tension. 

“You didn’t look through the peephole, did you? I always tell you to look before you open the door, and you never listen,” he says with a grin, but Jeongguk merely looks at him like he’s some kind of mirage, his gaze flies across Jimin’s face as if he’s committing it to memory. 

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jeongguk agrees, jumping aside and opening the door wider so Jimin can get past him. 

He toes his shoes off in the entryway, trying not to shudder under Jeongguk’s heavy gaze. He doesn’t dare turn to face him yet, and instead moves further into the penthouse towards the living room, passing Jeongguk’s grammy on the hall table along the way. It's turned on its side again, and seems to hold some dirt in the hollowed part of the gramophone, sporting a few tiny budding sprouts. 

They both enter the spacious living room, but neither of them sit. When Jimin gathers enough courage to look Jeongguk in the eye, it’s easy to see the hurt in his gaze and the hope in his expression. Jimin mentally kicks himself, hating that he’s the cause of that look.

“We have a lot to talk about,” he starts, unsure where to begin, there’s so much to get through. “I should’ve discussed my decision to resign with you in person,” he admits right away. “And it was wrong of me to avoid you afterwards. I won’t make excuses for myself about why I went about it that way. We’ve been through too much, and you deserve better than to hear it through a voicemail. I’m sorry for that, truely.”

Jeongguk nods, his expression falling slightly, as if that wasn’t what he was hoping to hear. 

“Things have been tense between us for a while now, for a number of reasons. Would you agree,” he asks tentatively, watching the singer give another small nod. “Then there was Soohan on top of everything, and when you didn’t show up to the school, it all just got to be too much.”

Jeongguk shuffles his feet, his eyes remaining glued to Jimin. 

“I went to see Yoonhe today,” he admits, watching as a flush spreads across Jeongguk’s cheeks, reminding him of the shy kid he used to be. “She told me about your visit, how you signed her bass guitar and helped her practice.”

Jeongguk lifts a shoulder up to shrug, suddenly finding his hands fascinating. 

“She’s got one of my old ones that you donated, figured if I signed it she could sell it online one day.”

“She would never,” Jimin says with a genuine smile. “She really admires you, you know? You’re her hero.”

“‘M’not a very good one,” Jeongguk mutters, and Jimin’s heart breaks a little bit more.

“Seokjin hyung called me. He told me why you weren’t there.”

Jeongguk huffs, jaw tightening as he shakes his head.

“I should’ve known he wouldn’t fucking listen.”

Jimin can’t help but chuckle softly at his irritation. 

“He says you two have that in common.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, moving to one of the couches and collapsing down onto it while he rubs his tired eyes. 

“Thought I could help,” he admits, as if it was a silly idea. “I know I should’ve told you, or at the very least, I should have done what I was supposed to do first and then gone afterwards. You were right, I do know how much that school and those kids mean to you, and it probably doesn't make sense, but I didn’t want to go there as part of some scheme to make me look better in the eyes of the public. I didn’t give a shit about the rumors, and I still don’t, but I didn’t want to use something that means so much to you as a cheap way to make myself look better. It didn’t feel right, but I still should’ve said something.”

Jimin’s heart swells, stomach fluttering, and he makes the decision to sit next to him on the couch, Jeongguk looking up in surprise at his proximity. 

“I think we both wish we could’ve done things a bit differently,” Jimin admits with a gentle smile, waiting until Jeongguk meets his gaze again. “I was told you resigned.”

The singer gives another half-hearted shrug, picking at his nails with pursed lips. 

“Feels pointless lately. Even more so after you left.”

“What do you mean,” he asks softly, wanting nothing more than to understand where Jeongguk’s head’s been at lately. 

“I know I’ve been difficult, horrible, even.”

“I wouldn’t say horrible. An irritating brat, but not horrible.”

Jeongguk snorts, gently knocking his shoulder against Jimin’s 

“You’re too nice,” he mutters, keeping his gaze on his hands. 

Jimin stays quiet, but moves closer until their sides are pressed together. There, he waits patiently for Jeongguk to continue. 

"I just want you to know that the reason I didn't talk to you about it is because I know it's ridiculous, and silly, so I kept it to myself."

"I doubt it's ridiculous or silly if it upsets you."

Jeongguk fidgets nervously, and Jimin waits for him to feel comfortable enough to continue.

“When we first started out, the only thing I really cared about was the music, you know? I just wanted to get better at it, for more people to listen to my songs and love them, that’s all that mattered. 

“But then it was all about reaching a bigger audience, and making more money and becoming more successful. Keeping my place at the top of this mountain I built, constantly afraid I was gonna fall. 

“Then it became about the awards and the titles. First one to do this, first one to win that, the most awards in this category, or that. I spent so much time trying to achieve the best award, or the most awards, that when I finally won a grammy; literally the award, I didn’t feel anything. Why the hell should I even care what a group of people I give no shit about thinks of my music? I should care about what I think of my music, not anyone else.”

Jimin feels the overwhelming urge to comfort him, but he doesn't want to interrupt.

"I thought that once I won, everything would go back to normal and I could focus on what was important again, but that's when people started treating me even more differently, like everything I touched turned to gold. Like I could do no wrong. I became the pride of Korea, and it’s selfish, but I just wanted to be me ."

The quiet is sudden after that, as Jimin let's the words sink in.

“I wanted to be treated the way I should be. I kept waiting for people to say something. To point out I was rude or distracted, or intentionally not listening. But they only became more patronizing. You’re different,” he continues, looking back at Jimin with an intensity to his gaze. “Of course you are, you always have been. I know it's a terrible reason, but having someone call me on it when I acted out made me feel normal. You're the only one that would. It's not a great coping mechanism, and it definitely wasn't fair to you, and I'm so sorry for all the stress I caused, but honestly, I wanted you to tell me off and get mad and call me a brat. It’s the only time I've felt sane, lately.”

His eyes are bright, gaze earnest, and Jimin’s chest tightens.

“You keep me grounded, Jimin. Like I'm just me again.”

Jimin searches his face, witnessing the vulnerable, open expression he wears that he hasn’t seen in a long while.

“You could have told me, I would never think to hold your feelings against you,” he assures.

Jeongguk looks uncomfortable, his gaze back to his hands as he gives another shrug. 

“Felt like I was making something out of nothing. Thought the feeling would go away eventually, but it never did. Convinced myself I just had to deal with it until I got over it, but I didn’t handle it well.”

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to keep that to yourself,” Jimin says sincerely, but Jeongguk adamantly shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize to me, please, you didn’t do anything wrong. it was my issue and my choice to act the way I did instead of talking about it like I should’ve.”

Jimin smirks, tugging on a loose strand of hair from Jeongguk’s bun. 

“When did you get so mature, huh?”

“When you left.”

Jimin freezes, looking at Jeongguk as the singer reaches up and grasps his hand. Jimin releases his hair, and allows Jeongguk to draw his palm towards his lips, eyes closing while he places the softest kiss on Jimin’s knuckles, cradling it to his cheek like he’s precious and breakable.

“Please come back, hyung.”

Jimin feels flustered, his lips parting, all the air rushing out of him.

“Since when am I ‘hyung?’”

Jeongguk looks back up at him then, determination in his eyes. 

“I just want to make you happy. That’s all I want to do.”

“You’re too much,” Jimin mumbles, reaching over with his free hand to trace one of the giant circles under the bottom lid of his left eye. “Did you finally learn you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?”

“Is that a yes?”

“I don’t know, are you going to unresign ?”

“I will if you will, after discussing my contract with Jin hyung.”

“I am looking for a job at the moment,” Jimin mutters thoughtfully, gaze turned up as if he’s mulling it over.

“I have just the thing. You’d be perfect for it,” Jeongguk grins, rubbing his soft cheek over Jimin’s fingers.

“I wouldn’t have to work for a brat, would I?”

“Probably, but I heard the pay is good.”

“Oh, well in that case…”

Jeongguk beams at him, a full, genuine smile that reaches his eyes, and Jimin is breathless. He can’t remember the last time he saw Jeongguk so happy. 

The air changes swiftly, Jimin unable to look away from the rockstar as Jeongguk takes to rubbing his lips across his wrist, gaze intent.

A rush of arousal runs through Jimin when he feels a hint of teeth.

“Have you eaten,” he suddenly asks, yanking his hand away while his cheeks flush. There’s noticeable amusement in Jeongguk’s expression, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he shakes his head. 

“Not yet.”

“Go take a shower, I’ll make us something.”

Jeongguk immediately does as he’s told, rising from the couch and heading towards his bedroom without any argument, and Jimin is left to stare after him, not used to being obeyed so easily. 

He thinks about it all throughout his meal preparation, set on making gimbap. He’s nearly finished when his phone begins to ring. 

“Hyung,” he greets, phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he plates one roll.

“Jimin-ah,” Seokjin greets, sounding hopeful. “I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”

“Just making food,” he answers, bringing the plates to the kitchen table. He sets them down gently, along with his phone after putting it on speaker.

“Did you happen to see Jeongguk,” Seokjin asks, his voice ringing out in the quiet of the penthouse.

“I did,” he grins, not making it easy for the CEO.

“And? Is there a chance I could persuade you both to maybe come back to work?”

“Tell him we want a vacation,” Jeongguk says, Jimin spotting him leaning against the frame of his door, wearing a soft looking black shirt and matching black pants. 

Jimin’s smile widens as he turns back to his phone.

“Jeongguk says we want a vacation.”

“I heard,” Seokjin mutters, sounding endearingly perturbed. “I’ll move some stuff around and see what I can do. I’ve got meetings to hold and a new director to assign to Aurum, so I’ll let you know when that’s handled. If anything ever happens that makes you uncomfortable going forward, please, let me know.”

Jimin feels his cheeks heat up again, seeing out of the corner of his eye the way Jeongguk moves from his door, heading right for him.

“We will,” he agrees, gaze locked on Jeongguk’s approaching form. 

“I’ll be in touch. Behave, you two.”

“Never,” Jeongguk softly declares, his own eyes fixed on Jimin, and he’s pretty sure Seokjin hung up already.

“Shall we eat,” Jimin asks, mentally berating himself for sounding breathless.

"I would like nothing more," Jeongguk proclaims, voice unnecessarily husky. The way he licks his lips is confirmation enough that he's not talking about food.

Jimin's cheeks continue to burn as he pushes one of the plates towards him, unable to meet his stare.

He hears Jeongguk laugh as he takes a seat.

"You're cute when you blush."

Jimin ignores that revelation, and instead focuses on eating. This close, he can smell Jeongguk's shampoo and soap, the pleasant scent invading his senses and driving him to distraction. He missed that about him. The way he always smells so good…

“Eat your food,” he mutters, ignoring the singer’s amusement.

Despite the teasing, they eat quietly, the only sounds coming from Jeongguk as he makes small noises of appreciation after each bite. 

He’s ridiculously endearing. 

Jeongguk finishes his roll quickly, cleaning up after himself and washing his hands in the kitchen sink. He comes back to the table to keep Jimin company, absently running his fingers through his damp hair, pulling harshly when he comes across some knotted strands. 

“Aish,” Jimin tuts, abandoning the last few bites on his plate in order to go to the younger man, stopping him from yanking his own hair out in his carelessness.

“Come on,” he instructs, interlacing their fingers together as he leads the rockstar to his own bedroom. 

Jeongguk looks taken aback, but he follows behind without a fight, sitting on his bed when Jimin encourages him to do so. He leaves the rockstar there, continuing on to the adjacent bathroom where he finds the detangler spray and a comb. 

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything when he comes back, just continues to sit quietly as Jimin climbs up onto the bed behind him, carefully spraying his hair in sections with the sweet smelling spray before getting to work. 

He’s gentle about it, gathering the hair up in one hand and taking the comb to the ends, steadily working his way up. Jeongguk’s hair is long and thick, so it takes time, some knots more stubborn than others. Jimin is patient. He never pulls, and that’s part of the reason why he’s one of the only ones allowed to do this. 

Once he’s successfully worked his way through all of Jeongguk’s hair, taking care of each tangle until the comb runs smooth, he sets it aside, allowing himself a moment of indulgence as he uses his fingers to shake out the strands, watching the ends begin to curl while a little more volume sets in. 

Jimin can’t resist the urge to massage the younger man’s scalp, knowing how much he loves it. As expected, Jeongguk lets out a moan of appreciation, the sound causing heat to lick up Jimin’s spine, making him shiver. 

He tugs lightly at his hair, but Jeongguk’s reaction is almost visceral, a low whimper tapering off into a groan. He leans his head back, Jimin just able to see the way his lashes flutter, eyes sliding closed.  

“What are you doing to me,” the singer gasps out, not quite a question.

Its sensual, both the words and the way they’re spoken, and it does something to Jimin, an ache starting out in his core, traveling to every part of him until he feels like that’s all he is, his desire for Jeongguk, and he finds he doesn’t want to resist it anymore.

“I wanna touch you,” Jimin reveals, surprised at his boldness, but finding he can’t regret the honesty.

“If you’re going to touch me, you have to be sure this is what you want,” Jeongguk practically begs, though his voice is firm. “There’s no taking it back, afterwards. I want all of you, Jimin.”

It takes his breath away, hearing those words spoken so bluntly, but Jimin finds that that fear he’s been holding onto, the very same fear that has thus far prevented him from acting on his feelings for the younger man, is quieter than it has ever been.  

“I want all of you, too, Jeongguk.”

It’s like a switch has been flipped once the words are out, Jeongguk suddenly facing him, big wide doe eyes staring into his own, 

Jimin finds himself laid back on the soft mattress, Jeongguk looming over him, his gaze heavy and intense. A big, warm hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb tracing along his lower lip. Jimin stays still and watches the way the singer’s eyes dilate, a look of pure want settles in his features, but what takes his breath away is how Jeongguk stares at him with love and awe, as if he can’t believe that Jimin agreed. 

As if loving him could be a hardship. 

“You know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?”

“What are you waiting for, then?”

The corner of Jeongguk’s lips turn up, gaze focused on Jimin’s mouth, and then he leans down, stopping when there’s barely a breath between them.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” he promises, and then he closes the last bit of distance between them. 

Despite Jeongguk’s words, for their first kiss, he takes it slow, seemingly savoring how perfect their lips fit together. It’s an almost innocent kiss, sweet and gentle in a way that has Jimin’s mind fuzzy, pleased hums rumbling in his throat. When he feels Jeongguk’s tongue line his bottom lip, his body jerks, as if an electric shock passes through his system.

“Easy,” Jeongguk murmurs, then seemingly disregards his own words as he dives back in, Jimin’s mouth opening for him, moaning as his tongue finally enters.

It’s wet, hot, and so fucking good that Jimin already feels like whining. Jeongguk is a really good kisser, licking his way into Jimin’s mouth before relenting, pulling back enough to capture his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling persistently enough to have it already feeling swollen. 

“I knew it,” he declares against Jimin’s mouth, their breathing labored. 

“Knew what?”

“I knew you’d taste obscene,” he moans, claiming Jimin’s lips again.

The ramifications of that sentence hit Jimin, but he can’t really appreciate it. Not now. Not when Jeongguk is kissing him so passionately, one hand lacing their fingers together, while the other buries itself in Jimin’s hair.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. We can slow down-”

“I think we’ve taken things slow enough,” Jimin answers honestly, and the relief he sees in the rockstar’s eyes is nearly comical.

“Oh thank fuck.”

Jimin giggles into Jeongguk’s mouth, feeling the younger man’s smile even as their lips slant repeatedly. The room feels too hot, and Jeongguk seems to agree, breaking away to straddle Jimin’s hips in order to pull his shirt up and over his head. Jimin reaches out a hand, palm over the singer’s chest, purposefully stopping him from coming back down. At Jeongguk’s raised brow, Jimin explains. 

“Let me look at you,” he whispers, voice husky and barely recognizable. Jeongguk obeys, remaining still for Jimin’s clear admiration. The way the singer looks on any given day always has a constant thrum of arousal sparking beneath Jimin’s skin, but being allowed to look at him like this and appreciate his body with clear intent, has that spark burning into a fire. 

To say that Jeongguk is sexy wouldn’t be enough. He’s more than that, but Jimin doesn’t know any words that could ever do him justice. 

“Wanna touch you.”

“You are touching me,” Jeongguk points out, the smile back at the corners of his mouth. It makes Jimin want to ruin him as well. 

He takes the singer by surprise, and that’s how he’s able to flip their position easily, straddling the younger man as he looks up at him in shock. 

“Don’t be a brat. You know how much I’ve had to put up with because of you? I deserve a reward.”

“You deserve everything.”

“That’s right. Now hold still.”

“Can’t promise that - ah!”

Jimin takes pleasure in the way Jeongguk’s voice turns into a hiss as he takes his left nipple in his mouth, biting down on the nub to hear him whine. He has to hold on as the younger man practically thrashes and writhes. 

Sensitive, good to know.

“Jimin,” he whimpers, voice gaining an edge when he’s ignored. “ Jimin .”

“No more hyung?” he asks innocently, not at all swayed by the singer’s pleading look.

“It’s too much.”

“But we’ve only just started.”

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he tries, purposefully making his tone imploring, eyes big. 

“Are you saying you just want to get it over with?”

Jeongguk blinks, mouth opening and closing like the fish he keeps in the living room. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, no.”

“Good, cause I wanna take my time with you,” he reveals almost vindictively, kissing along the man’s ticklish ribs. “Lick you everywhere.”

“ Everywhere ?”

“Everywhere.”

“Fuck.”

Jimin gets to work, his hands tracing along the tattoos adorning Jeongguk’s arms while he kisses the singer deeply, moving away from his mouth and taking his ear between his lips. He smiles when Jeongguk curses again, practically shivering in his hold as Jimin sucks on the lobe. 

“You’ve been so difficult,” he whispers, amazed at how responsive Jeongguk is. “But you’re gonna be good for me now, right?”

“I’ll be good,” he rushes to agree, nodding emphatically, eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Good,” Jimin says decisively, scratching his nails down the younger man’s torso, feeling his cock twitch at the way Jeongguk moans. 

He’s already so hard it’s uncomfortable. 

Jimin ignores it, lavishing his attention on Jeongguk as he makes good on his promise to lick him everywhere he can reach. The muscles the singer has cultivated deserve nothing less, and Jimin appreciates every part of him. 

He knows Jeongguk is getting impatient, even before he feels fingers in his hair, gently pulling at the strands in an effort to remove Jimin’s insistent mouth. 

“Too much,” Jeongguk keeps chanting, and Jimin hasn’t even touched the straining hardness in his pants, yet.

He expects it when he’s flipped over onto his back again, Jeongguk’s patience finally wearing thin. He had hoped to get his mouth around that delicious heat, first, though. 

But they have time. 

Jeongguk rips at his clothes, his pupils blown, hair wild, and Jimin allows himself to be positioned in whichever way the singer deems fit. He yanks and tugs until they’re both completely naked, and like Jimin, Jeongguk takes his time to admire the body he’s laid bare, desire coloring his gaze. It sweeps from Jimin’s flushed cheeks, down to the slight heaving of his chest, and going lower still, settling on the hardened length of his cock, pink and leaking against his belly.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he groans, an overwhelmed kind of expression taking over his features. Jimin watches his fingers open and close, like he doesn’t know where to touch first.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, blushing at the praise.

“Beautiful, gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?”

Jimin wants to return the compliments, but just as he opens his mouth to do so Jeongguk flips him over onto his stomach, an audible gasp reaching his ears once he settles. 

“ Fuck .”

Two large hands cup his cheeks. squeezing the supple flesh before pulling them apart slightly, exposing the most private part of him. 

Jeongguk doesn’t move for almost a minute, and Jimin feels embarrassed, about to turn around and ask him what the hell he’s doing when a warm breath caresses his hole. 

“Can I eat you out?”

“Christ.”

“Please, Jimin? I’ve thought about it so much. Dreamt about it…”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he agrees, whining when Jeongguk’s tongue licks against him before he’s even finished agreeing. 

To say Jeongguk is enthusiastic would be a disservice. 

He's relentless, running his tongue over Jimin's hole repeatedly, until he's a loose, quivering mess. He circles the tiny ring, pointing the appendage so he can finally enter him after he's made him pliant. 

Jimin squeals, the sensation immense in a way that he didn't foresee. He can't remember the last time someone did this to him, but he knows it's never felt this good. 

Jeongguk is turning him into a wreck, lapping along his rim before thrusting inside again. He's a babbling mess, begging the other to stop, or for more, it's hard to say.

Jeongguk keeps going, moaning against Jimin's hole like he's the one being taken apart. The fact that he's enjoying it puts Jimin further up in the stars, thrusting back against Jeongguk's face before rutting down into the mattress, the friction nearly putting him over the edge.

Jeongguk never let's up, even when Jimin is a crying, quivering mess, he continues, switching his pace or the maddening motions of his tongue.

It's too much.

"Gonna come," he whimpers, his body tightening with the intensity of every sensation, nerves lit up.

It all disappears when Jeongguk moves away from him, turning Jimin over onto his back so he can't find his release, and ignoring his frustrated whine. 

"Want you to come on my cock, okay?"

Jimin nods eagerly, his gaze finally settling on the hardened length standing erect from between Jeongguk's legs.

He blinks once and shakes his head at the impressive size of it, flushed red and weeping at the slit.

That's gonna take some work to fit.

It's been over half a year since Jimin's been fucked, and the last guy he took to bed wasn't anywhere near Jeongguk's size.

"I'll take care of you, baby," the singer suddenly promises, as if sensing Jimin's trepidation. 

His pulse races at the familiar endearment, feeling dazed while he watches the younger man reach into a side table, rummaging around before pulling out lube and a condom. 

He pops the cap on the clear bottle, coating his fingers generously, but it’s not enough. 

“More,” Jimin shakily exhales, watching the way Jeongguk’s brow furrows. “I like it wet.”

His eyes widen at that whispered confession and he hastily adds more lube to the digits, gaze coming back and seeking Jimin’s approval. 

“Perfect,” he sighs, spreading his legs further, and exposing himself to Jeongguk’s admiring stare. It takes him a moment, but he finally shakes himself out of his trance, reanimating as he carefully lowers himself down, surrounding Jimin’s body with his own. 

Their lips meet once more, Jeongguk attempting to distract him with his tongue, just as one confident finger circles his rim. He presses, adding the slightest bit of pressure before backing off completely, repeating the action several times. It drives Jimin crazy, sure that each time he’ll finally press in all the way, but he never does. 

“Jeongguk-”

“Relax,” he whispers against Jimin’s open mouth as they breathe each other in, Jeongguk still pressing maddeningly at his hole. “Relax,” he repeats. “I’m gonna take care of you. Make you feel so good.”

Jimin inhales deeply and does what he’s told, making the effort to keep his body from tensing, sinking deeper into the mattress while Jeongguk goes back to kissing him and circling his opening. 

He gets lost in it, enjoying the way Jeongguk kisses him, touches him. Everything feels good and unhurried, despite their earlier desperation. His body feels heavy, but in the best way.

Jimin hums into Jeongguk’s mouth when his finger presses against him firmer than it has before, the sound turning into a moan when he finally enters him. He stays relaxed throughout it all.

“Good, baby. You’re doing well.”

The praise makes Jimin whimper, the sensation of that long finger—so much bigger than his own—brushing against his walls causes a shiver to wrack his body. 

Jeongguk opens him up just like that, stretching him meticulously, his eyes never leaving Jimin’s face, searching his expression for any type of discomfort. Jimin feels like he’s being taken apart, and Jeongguk hasn’t even touched his prostate yet. 

His cock is straining, now, red and angry. A small pool of precome collects near his belly. Jimin wants nothing more than to reach down and touch himself, get a little relief, but when he tries Jeongguk immediately traps his hand, not letting go until Jimin looks back at him. 

“Be good.”

It’s a simple order, but the words carry weight, and before he knows it, he nods helplessly, obeying and keeping his hands away. 

“Ready for another?” Jeongguk finally asks, and Jimin nods again, fascinated by how blown the singer’s pupils are. He gets that same look every time he performs onstage, that high he reaches, singing in front of all his adoring fans…

Jimin shivers to be the cause of that look.

Jeongguk adds a second finger, successfully chasing away all of Jimin’s coherent thoughts, the only thing he’s able to focus on is the familiar burn of being stretched, and the pleasure it ignites in him.  

It’s lewd, the wet sound it makes when Jeongguk’s fingers repeatedly enter him, Jimin’s moans coalescing with the way Jeongguk breathes heavily, quickening his motions and making Jimin tighten around him. 

“Don’t come,” the younger man warns, and Jimin is momentarily confused until his body shoots up, Jeongguk successfully locating his prostate. 

Jimin almost comes. 

Jeongguk seems to know how close he is, backing off from the sensitive bundle of nerves and slowing his pace. 

“Ready?”

“Fuck yes,” he whines, hoping for that touch to return, but Jeongguk surprises him by adding a third finger, instead. 

It feels like he’s slowly being driven insane, his body sweating, unsure if he’s about to be thrown over the edge or eased away from it again. The teasing is too much, frustrating and addicting in equal turns. 

It worsens considerably when Jeongguk leans down, changing the angle of his fingers while he laps at the precome on his abdomen, making Jimin’s vision go white. Jeongguk moans against his skin, and he’s unable to stop himself from thrusting against the younger man, looking for relief. But he pulls away quickly, tearing a whine from Jimin’s swollen lips.

“You taste obscene here, too.”

Jimin wants to throttle him, or fuck him, whichever comes first. 

“Think you can take a fourth?”

“I can take anything,” he declares petulantly, recognizing that look in the singer’s eye as he rises to the challenge. 

“Oh really?”

“Jeongguk,” he growls, watching the corners of his mouth turn up in a smug smile. 

“Relax, baby,” he says again, and before Jimin can tell him what he can do with his advice, Jeongguk carefully adds in a fourth finger, pulling out slightly before thrusting them in all at once. 

“ Fuck, ” Jimin whimpers, his eyes rolling back into his head. 

It’s good. It’s so good . 

Jeongguk thrusts a handful of times into him before Jimin hits at his arm, his head shaking from side to side. 

“That’s good. I’m ready, please. Want your cock now.”

“Well since you asked nicely,” Jeongguk whispers huskily, carefully taking his fingers out, but even in his current state, Jimin can see the way he trembles in anticipation. 

He watches, lids hooded, as Jeongguk goes to open a condom, his hand reaching out to sluggishly stop him. 

“Don’t want that,” he says truthfully, looking into the younger man’s big, wide eyes as he stares Jimin down like he doesn’t believe he’s really there. All the years they’ve been together, all the things they’ve gone through. Jimin wants this intimacy with Jeongguk. 

Only Jeongguk. 

“Jimin-”

“Wanna feel you come inside.”

“Fuck, don’t say shit like that,” he groans, shiny fingers encircling the base of his straining cock, as if worried he won’t be able to control himself. 

“I know you get tested every time,” Jimin continues, his gaze meeting the singer’s. “Are you clean?”

“I’m clean,” he answers, as if in a daze. 

“Me too.”

“You’re sure?”

Jimin gives him a warm smile and nods. 

“I’m sure.”

Heat spreads through him as he watches Jeongguk toss the condom away, grabbing for the lube instead. He slicks himself up generously, stroking the long length while his eyes flutter closed, mouth open as he pants. 

Jimin licks his lips at the sight of him, too beautiful for words. 

“This okay?” he asks, crawling over Jimin’s prone form and settling between his legs. “Wanna see you.”

Jimin nods, wrapping his legs around Jeongguk’s tiny waist, breath hitching when he feels the man’s cockhead press against his rim. 

“Fuck,” Jeongguk suddenly hisses, reaching between them to grab hold of himself. “Hope I’m not dreaming again.”

Jimin inhales shakily, feeling the pressure at his opening as Jeongguk starts to push in, whimpering when he leans down to capture his lips between his own. 

“Wanna see you,” he says again, pulling back enough so their eyes can meet. “So beautiful.”

Jeongguk thrusts in, a high-pitched whine leaving Jimin and another curse leaving Jeongguk. 

He’s so big. 

The stretch stings a little, but once Jimin gets passed that, the pleasure is far more distracting. His body feels like it’s on fire, the sensation of being filled so completely is deliciously satisfying, and Jeongguk hasn’t even moved yet. 

“You’re so tight,” Jeongguk marvels, arms shaking where he holds himself up. Jimin buries his fingers in his hair, tugging at the long strands while he tightens his legs, trying to force the rockstar to move. 

Jeongguk’s tenuous control seems to suffer at that, his hips snapping forward, dragging a moan out of Jimin’s chest. 

“You’re killing me,” he huffs against Jimin’s mouth, biting at his bottom lip and nibbling on it until it becomes even more swollen. 

“You’re making me wait,” he counters, watching lust and amusement color the younger man’s gaze. 

“Am I?”

Jimin nods. 

“What would you like me to do, then?”

He tries to give him a truly scathing look, but Jeongguk doesn’t give in. 

“I could flip you over and use your cock to take care of myself, if you’re incapable.”

Jeongguk’s eyes go wide, and before Jimin knows it, there are hands at the backs of his thighs, pushing his legs up even further as Jeongguk pulls out only to slam back in again. He’s practically bent in half, the singer taking advantage of his flexibility to get him in the position he wants. The new angle allows for Jeongguk to push in deeper, and Jimin feels dangerously close to drooling when he’s fucked into over and over again. 

Jeongguk’s stamina is honestly commendable. He keeps his pace easily, showing no signs of tiring, shifting slightly before ramming back in again. Jimin’s back arches off the bed, seeing stars when his prostate is hit. 

“Jeon-Jeongguk,” he stutters softly, not quite sure what he’s trying to say. 

“You take it so well,” the younger man praises, running his fingers over Jimin’s nipples, pinching the buds as he pulls back, gaze rapt, watching his cock move in and out of Jimin’s entrance. 

Jimin feels like a ragdoll, shoved further and further up the bed while Jeongguk pounds into him. It shouldn’t turn him on to think of it that way, but it does, a continuous stream of moans and whimpers escaping him. 

Jeongguk’s hair is getting damp, sweat gathering at his temples. His eyes are intense, the palm of one hand pressing against Jimin’s abdomen, as if he’s trying to feel himself moving inside. 

“Please,” Jimin begs, cock straining and desperate for release. 

“Please what?”

“Wanna come.” 

“You can wait a little longer, can’t you? You can wait for me?”

“I can wait,” Jimin reassures, even though he’s not sure if he believes it. He would promise Jeongguk the moon right now if it’ll help him get what he wants.

“So good for me.”

Jeongguk bends him fully in half, circling his hips and rutting into him, rather than thrusting. His cockhead is butted up right against his prostate, and Jimin feels dangerously close to that edge again. 

“I can’t, I-I’m-”

“Shh, you can. Breathe.”

Jimin breathes. 

He’s once more backed away from that edge, his body feeling like an exposed wire, dangerous and unpredictable. He gathers what’s left of his self-control and nods, strangely emotional when Jeongguk gently cradles his face and presses kisses on his cheeks. 

“Gonna fuck you now, okay?”

“‘Kay,” he whimpers, unsure what Jeongguk would classify what they’ve been doing up to this point. 

He gets his answer when Jeongguk pulls almost completely out and thrusts back in, his pace almost brutal. The sound of skin slapping against skin is lewd, the smell of sex potent. Jimin feels delirious with pleasure, his body wracked with sensation that makes him forget who he is. 

It’s terrifying, the way Jeongguk so easily strips him down to the bare bones, quickly learning how he works, what buttons to press in order to get the reaction he wants. The scary part is how easy he does it, the pleasure he instills in Jimin enough to make him lose pieces of himself, drifting away in this euphoric cloud as they push and pull at each other, bodies desperate for relief. 

Jimin’s head lulls while Jeongguk slams into that spot inside of him over and over again, heavy breathing filling the air.

“You with me, baby?” he asks, cupping his chin and turning his head so their eyes meet. Jimin mutters something nonsensical, his cock so hard it hurts. 

“Fuck, just look at you,” Jeongguk sighs, indescribable heat in his gaze. Jimin feels burned from it. 

Jeongguk’s hands move down, gripping Jimin’s cheeks in both and squeezing them together. It makes his cock feel infinitely bigger like this, a cry ripping from him at the intense feel of it. His own cock twitches, precome leaking steadily onto his flushed skin. 

He moves inside like that, his passage feeling somewhat constricted, but it feels so fucking good that Jimin has to warn him again.

“Gonna come,” he says, panic in his voice, but Jeongguk only speeds up his thrusts, disregarding Jimin’s worry. 

“Go ahead baby. Come with me.”

Jimin doesn’t need to be told twice. His vision blacks out, save for little white spots dancing behind his lids as his body arches up dramatically, come shooting onto his chest. Jeongguk fucks him through it, his rhythm faltering right before Jimin feels a telling warmth spread inside. 

Jeongguk collapses on top of him, still mindful of his weight so he doesn’t crush Jimin. The room is filled with the sounds of their panting breath, struggling to come down from the high they reached. 

Jimin touches Jeongguk reverently, running his trembling hands over his broad back, matching each inhale and exhale until their breathing is in sync.

Eventually, their hearts slow to a manageable speed, their breathing evening out. 

Jeongguk lifts his head up, a dopey, blissed-out smile taking over his lips when their eyes meet again. Before he knows it, Jimin feels a matching smile of his own. 

He leans down, nose brushing against his in an endearingly sweet action, juxtaposed to what they just did to each other.  

“You okay?” he whispers softly, as if scared he’ll break the spell of the moment they're having. 

“Better than okay,” Jimin answers honestly, mimicking the quiet of his tone. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

He shakes his head, tightening around the still hard length inside him, and delighting in the way Jeongguk’s eyes flutter in pleasure and sensitivity, hips rocking with the slightest motion. 

“Don’t do that,” Jeongguk begs. “I’m still—yeah, I’m...and you’re. You’re probably sore, so…”

The way he stutters, speech jumbled, has Jimin fighting back a smile. 

Fuck, he's cute.

“I’m not gonna break,” he whispers, rolling his body up against Jeongguk’s hard form, taking satisfaction in the moan that elicites. He grabs the singer’s hand in his own, guiding it between them so Jeongguk can feel. 

“I’m still hard too. You should fuck me again.”

Jeongguk looks at Jimin like he can’t process what he's proposing. 

“Are you...you should rest, maybe-”

“Be good and do what you’re told, Jeongguk-ah.” 

The way the younger man’s eyes dilate, cock jumping inside of Jimin, is a response that deserves to be further investigated. At the singer’s fervent agreement, Jimin vows to explore that in depth. 

-

Once they finally drag themselves from Jeongguk's bed, they spend almost an hour in his massive shower, making more of a mess than getting clean, Jimin finally getting his mouth around that perfect cock. 

After exhausting themselves there, they stumble back to the bedroom, Jimin searching for that drama they started nearly a week ago while Jeongguk makes quick work of changing the sheets. He finds where they left off, quietly marveling at how much has changed in such a short time. 

When Jeongguk is finished and deems the bed habitable again, he wraps Jimin up in his arms as they burrow into the fresh sheets, barely paying attention to the plot of the show, more intent on each other. Jimin repeatedly places kisses on every inch of Jeongguk he can reach, simply because he can, now. Jeongguk, in turn, buries his face in Jimin’s neck, and every now and again his lips will latch onto his sensitive ear, making a shiver run throughout his body. 

Time slips away, and Jimin feels dangerously close to dozing off when Jeongguk suddenly laughs, startling him. 

“What’s so funny,” he mumbles, lacing their fingers together. 

“Nothing,” Jeongguk chuckles, snickering against Jimin’s skin. “Just, everything was solved with a conversation.”

He’s laughing again, like it’s the funniest joke, and Jimin tunes back into the drama on the screen, where the romantic leads seem to be making progress. The ridiculousness of their mirrored situation is not lost on him, but at least they figured it out in the end. 

“If you weren’t so stubborn, it wouldn’t’ve taken this long.”

“If I wasn’t so stubborn,” Jeongguk fires back, incredulous. “I’m sorry, who was the one who was scared to take our relationship passed friendship?”

“I wasn’t the one acting like a brat and keeping things to myself.”

Jeongguk cups his cheek and turns his face so they’re looking at each other, a pointed brow raised. 

“Can you repeat that last part, about not keeping things to yourself?”

Jimin suddenly remembers Soohan and blushes, waving off Jeongguk’s amusement. 

“I guess we deserve each other, then.”

“I think so.”

“Still, I wasn’t a brat.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Mmm,” he hums, wrapping himself more securely around the younger man. 

They quiet, the only sound coming from the television. Jimin is just about to fall asleep when he remembers something Jeongguk said during their...earlier activities. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” he mumbles, smiling when he hears the rockstar’s low rumbling response. 

“Did you write ‘Tastes like Obscenity’ about me?” 

The grip around him tightens, Jeongguk’s tell tale nerves impactIng his speech as he stutters and rushes to explain. 

Jimin smiles, already having his answer.