#anyways kibum living his best life we’re here for it

[pieciublyszczacychchlopcow]

Since we don’t know what will happen with Bird App in the nearest feature, I’ve decided to post my KeyLand in Yokohama report here as well as to not lose those precious memories (in written form, they’re safely burned in my head hopefully forever ^.^).

💎💎💎💎💎

KEYLAND_JAPAN report is here! I will try to write as much as I remember, though tbh I’m still so excited and overwhelmed my memories are a bit of a mess, especially when it comes to which ment came after which song. Anyways, let’s start! But before that, let me tell you one thing: luck with ticketing will come to all Shawols one day, because it surely came to me. When I got to my seat I started crying because arena first row?!? For Kibum’s concert?!? FIRST FREAKING ROW!!!!!!

When Runaway started playing… I can’t describe this feeling, I think the only way it could get better would be during SHINee concert with Shawols being allowed to be loud (well, we were anyway, thank you Kibum XD).

The first notes of the Eye VCR (that’s what I’m going to call it) were nothing when compared with the boom of first notes of Gasoline. The sound during the whole concert was amazing, I could feel every single beat with my whole body. I wouldn’t mind going to Pia Arena for SHINee member concert again for sure. The fire effects were so hot (literally)! No wonder SHINee members are sweating like crazy during concerts, it’s not only choreography but the fire effects and lights are hot. Fire and golden clad Gasoline Kibum though 🥵🥵🥵 He looked like some deity, beautiful and fierce.

Guilty Pleasure was next and that song is fun! I can imagine how amazing it will be with Shawols screaming🔥 For Another Life he went to the second stage and let me tell you, back view of Kibum performing that song was so stunning I didn’t even look at screens XD He went back to the main stage for Yellow Tape and after it ended, the JShawol next to me was like I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH! and I agree, the energy is amazing. Plus the stage was moving up and down so it was really fun to watch.

The MC time. Kibum thanked us for coming even though it was raining, talked about waiting for the concert in Japan for four years and how it was long but at the same time passed in a blink of an eye. He also mentioned again the story about the staff being against Gasoline as opening act because it was like Kamehameha at the start of the fight (Dragon Ball reference) and Shawols were like well, it’s not a lie 😆 He said in the interview he did yesterday (for the dvd?🙏🏻) they asked him how is he different from #SHINee members and he was like umm, whiteness? (cue Shawols screaming because the lighting at that moment really made him look like a porcelain doll) and also his love for talking during MC which he’s really good at imho and also HOW THE HECK IS THIS GUY SO GOOD AT BEING CUTE?!? The kawaii~, kawaii~ shouts were all you could hear after each pouty/smiley/adorable face he did 😆

I think it was before Villain, he joked about him not telling us to shout but if we did, it’s not like he told us to (the whole thing was hilarious but also after that Shawols felt braver and became louder). He also started telling us how he was teaching KShawols the fanchants for Villain but we did it before he even could show us and he was like ‘oh, you already know o.o What a time we’re living in 😏’ Anyways, the G.O.A.T concert’s instrumental arrangement for songs was the best thing ever! He went back to the main stage and performed Show Me and Hologram. Since I Wanna Be release, I dreamt about seeing Show Me live and he performed it! And Hologram needs loud fanchants, hopefully in Osaka there’ll be no more restrictions 🔥

The second part of the concert started with Heartless and dancers introduction. Kudos to them, they were really amazing during the whole concert! Also, I need this song to be released asap, love the rock energy it gives. Kibum changed his outfit and wore the floppy ear white hat (wasn’t it black yesterday?). He was adorable af, performing his musical act of Saturday Night (seriously, the choreo is like from a musical theatre), just to change the mood for more serious and personal with Proud. Btw, all the songs he performed with handheld microphone were showcasing his live vocals so well ❤︎ Next one - Delight. What a change of mood, Kibum all smiley and happily frolicking on the stage. This song really won me over with the concert version. Forever Yours - Kibum sang Soyou’s parts which damn but he can sing high notes!!! I Wanna Be was also delightful with Shawols shouting the ‘shiny’ and ‘bling bling’ pretty loud for a concert not allowing loud cheers 😆

Time for next ment. Kibum talked about Heartless, how it means without a heart, like a zombie or Frankenstein and how this is the feeling of the song. He also talked about how releasing new albums means more and more songs and how it gets harder to choose which ones he want to sing. Oh, I forgot to write how at the beginning of each MC he was drinking a LOT of water, making the funnies faces at us XD At one point he even said ‘I’m worried about Yokohama’s water (supply), I’m gonna drink it all’ 😂 He talked more about food he ate and then made the whole venue laugh with a story of how he went to Shibuya Crossing and went to a new viewing terrace, with his Chanel bag and all but they didn’t want to let him in because of his beanie, so he took it off and his hair was such a mess he can’t post the photo on sns 😂 Still, the view was amazing, worth the orange juice he bought to get a seat 🤣 Kibum also talked about how he cut his hair but it grows fast, how he dyed it blond because he realised he had black hair for the longest time and how hard it was to go back to light colour, how it turned orange at the beginning but now is fine because his hair is healthy (he was literally like ‘Key-kun’s hair is healthy’, cutie). Kibum also said he was happy to have a concert with lots of fans in the audience, the scale difference between Japan and Korea concerts is quite big in this regard (if only screaming and singing with full power was allowed 🥲). I’m not sure if he talked about SHINee in this ment or the next one, but he said Taemin came to visit him during practice and Kibum was like ‘why is this kid coming with nothing, no food, no drinks, nothing’, to which Taem replied ‘oh you wanted food? I can order some’ and Kibum said ‘it’s too late for that!’ He also said that he misses SHINee members since they don’t see each other that often (Taemin and Jinki since the concert in Korea), except for Minho, he saw Minho not long ago so for now he’s ok with not seeing Minho’s face, he will miss him next month XD SHINee is coming next year, Kibum said so!!!

One Of Those Nights acoustic version was beautiful, I need more acoustic songs from SHINee!!! I Can’t Sleep and Imagine back to back closed the cute part of the concert and then it came - Easy VCR!!! I was sitting with my jaw on the floor because trust me, Kibum dancing gently on the biggest screen was something else.

Next part of the concert is kind of blurry in my mind because Kibum in white space alien outfit destroyed my brain and heart. Bound performance during his concert >>>>>> music show performances. I can’t say anything about Helium that hasn’t been said already. Ain’t Gonna Dance on the other hand is pure perfection on stage! This song is sexy and smooth and Kibum’s vocals are chef’s kiss!

During his next MC Kibum did the “which outfit is the best one” quiz again but the results were weirdly interesting since Shawols pretty much screamed for all three equally and some brave soul even shouted ‘we love all of them’ and Kibum was laughing at that, saying that we’re saying that now but as soon as concert ends we will probably say ‘oh, but that outfit is actually my favourite’ XD

Kibum talked about Eighteen, how the song was born because he debuted when he was eighteen and thought a lot about his life and his feeling from that time. He also performed Chemicals after Burn and I loved it but!

But now I need a moment to tell you that Burn is the sexiest mf song in Kibum’s discography and don’t argue with me because when you see him live, his silhouette surrounded by red light and shadows, you will agree with me!

The last song of the main part of the concert was This Life. Kibum said he wondered if he should end with Proud or not but he wanted to end the concert with high energy, with us jumping and enjoying ourselves to the fullest. He joked how he was supposed to say ‘this is the last song of today’ but let’s face it, he’s never been to a concert without encore so he’s not even going to pretend XD He also jokingly said ‘because I’ll be back after two minutes and thirty seconds he needed to change his clothes’😂 This Life left me breathless because when Kibum says jump, I jump!!! It’s a stadium song and I wish he had a chance to perform it for the biggest audience!

During the break before encore they were showing Shawols on the screens and many had amazing slogans, often handmade! One of Shawols was holding printed out photo of chibi Bummie though (the one in the picture) and that got the biggest cheers XD

The encore started with Bad Love and the beautifully changed ending which I need released asap, Kibum please!!! The extended dance part was hot as well (there were extra dance parts in Helium too, I forgot to write). After Bad Love Kibum started to introduce dancers one by one and gosh but they were giddy 😂 The did all kinds of aegyo, all of them! Shawols were laughing so hard at their cute/weird poses and at Kibum who half cried from laughed and half cringed hard and after dancers left he said sth along the line of yeah, you need to be this kind of weird to work with me 🤣 The last song of the day was G.O.A.T. Kibum talked about how this concert, since first till the last song, is one of those greatest things in life and how we are the greatest as well (no, you are!!). Kibum looked so happy he could perform, he walked from one side of the stage to the other, waved at us and sang with the biggest smile. Thank you Bummie for the greatest afternoon ever!

Oh, and also during one of his ments Kibum talked about the lighsticks, he asked if the one not changing color is the old one (he had no idea it is a new merch) and called Shatting Star ‘the one that looks like mike’ 😂 He also told us that his mom has a special room for all SHINee merch and have it displayed like in a gallery. He said ‘mom has it all so if you want to exchange goods just contact her’ 🤣 Shawols were like give us the address please! XD

As for the concerts in Osaka, Kibum said he really wanted to have more opportunities to meet Japanese fans but there were no plans for extra concert before but suddenly the slot opened and he managed to get the venue. UMJ working hard for our SHINee boys 👏🏻

#shinee #key #kim kibum #g.o.a.t in the KeyLand #concert memories

[inthediamondsky]

“I live alone” reaaally is the original “celebrities... they’re just like us” program

except in this case the celebrity in question has about 500 sq meters of closet space like what the FUCK

#the main takeaway was the closet space #I was SHOOK #anyways kibum living his best life we’re here for it

[min-youngis]

Boom - p.jm

monkey brain said make a banner on your own u hussy

~ Pairing : Park Jimin x Reader (entrepreneur x software company intern, dance partners au)

ft. Best Friend/Roommate! Jungkook and Brother! Yoongi

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour, a very very very tiny smidgen of Angst

~ Rating : R (some suggestive descriptions, a fair amount of swearing and scary adult themes like money)

~ Summary : When Jimin leaves your little trio at the age of ten when his family moves away, you and Jungkook think that's the end of it, and you're never going to see your best friend again. But cut to twelve years later and suddenly your dance class is home to the prettiest man you've ever seen (again), who happens to be your friend's business partner and also...your new dance partner? Your friends think you're dumb, but you can confirm you're dumber.

Childhood Friends to Strangers to Lovers

~ Wordcount : 29.3k (🤡)

~ Warnings : swearing, some suggestive descriptions, mild alcohol consumption, excruciatingly slow burn, inaccurate depictions of internships and company establishment, emotional constipation, badly dealt with feelings, i-like-attention-but-i-don’t-like-people y/n, people who say please and thank you and excuse me and sorry are really fucking attractive, dissociation as a coping mechanism, overthinking as an instinct

~ A/N : no a/n this time ladies i'm all out of words. this has been two months in the making. muchos gracias to @ghostiemakingposties​ and @thedorkyfork​ for helping me figure out the timelines/logistics and making the plot make a semblance of sense :D thank you, that is all, i am ti r e d.

i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

2008

“My mom says we’re moving.”

He says it with all the innocence of somebody who’s completely clueless about how permanent a shift like that is, blissfully ignorant in his ten-year-old self. Over the buzzing of a bee somewhere nearby, you can hear a door shut as Jungkook runs into the house, screaming for food.

Squinting against the sunlight that filters in through the rustling canopy overhead, hitting your eyes abruptly every time that one particular leaf moves in the summer breeze, you ask, “Where are we going?”

There’s a quizzical tone in his voice when he replies slowly. “I don’t think you’re coming. Mom didn’t say anything about you coming.”

You turn your head towards him, facing his body that’s mirroring your own, laid out on the grass that smells like summer, hands and legs spread languidly because time is forever and you have nothing to do but breathe and laugh and live. Your messy pigtail pushes into the side of your head painfully, but you ignore the uncomfortable sensation, eyes widening as you fix him with a stare.

“What do you mean, I’m not coming?”

Chewing his lip worriedly, he says, “I think she means we’re moving moving.”

“It’s a scam.”

“It’s a what?”

“A scam,” you repeat decisively, turning back to face the sky, closing your eyes again and feeling powerful as you explain your new found knowledge to an eager crowd of one. “Yoongi taught me. He said that when dad tells him he won’t get dinner unless he washes up after basketball, he’s being scammed and that adults tell lies sometimes to make us do what they want us to do. He said it’s progapanda.” You, Jimin and Jungkook know that your four-years-older-than-you brother knows everything.

“Panda?” Jimin asks doubtfully.

Sagely, you nod. “Yeah. We’re being raised to be brainless machines and slaves to the catapultists.”

“What are catapultists?”

Shrugging, you reply, “No idea. But Yoongi says they’re really bad. Anyway, your mom is probably scamming you. You’re not really moving.”

“No?” he asks, hopeful tilt in his voice.

“Nope,” you blithely respond.

You hear the grass underneath his head faintly rustle as he nods in relieved affirmation, and he goes back to closing his eyes towards the bright sky.

Jimin moving. It’s laughable. Adults, you think ruefully, shifting so you can feel the warm sun on your face. Some things are permanent. Like Mr. Kibum, your dance teacher who’s taught you your entire life, and the flowers that your mom keeps in the vase on top of the shoe rack that look shockingly real for plastic. Like Yoongi's basketball that he got when he was selected for the school team and is too big for you to hold, but with which he taught you how to dribble anyway, and like the large tree in Jungkook’s backyard that you’re lying underneath right now, waiting for him to come back from the house with lemonade.

And like Jimin, who’s just always there. Even when you don’t particularly want him to be, like that one time he had come over when you were crying four years ago because Yoongi was going to middle school and you both wouldn’t be in the same bus anymore. You had been so embarrassed because Yoongi was just standing there and laughing at you, but Jimin had said that he wouldn’t tell anybody and you had believed him, because it’s Jimin.

“And anyway, Kook and I won't let you leave.”

He snickers next to you. “How are you going to stop my mom?”

“We'll cry,” you reply simply, shrugging as much as you can in your laid down position. “I do it all the time to get stuff at home. Yoongi hates it, he calls it my younger sibling privilege, whatever that means.”

He doesn’t sound very convinced when he asks, “Will it work?”

Behind you, you hear the repeated thud of Jungkook running and his mother shouting, “Slow down! You’ll end up spilling it all and I’m not going to make another bottle.”

With a grin at Jimin, you say, “Watch,” as you sit up and turn towards an excitedly jogging Jungkook and as he approaches the tree.

“I have lemonade!” he shouts loudly, lifting the glass bottle up.

But you’re more focused on Mrs. Jeon and the platter full of mini sandwiches she’s holding. The yellow, sunflower shaped digital watch on your wrist reads 12:37 PM, roughly the time at which your mother usually calls whichever house you’ve spent the morning in and asks you to come home for lunch. The plan forms in your brain. Time to show Jimin the power of tears.

“Y/N, dear, your mother just called. She wants you back home after eating this, alright?”

Remembering Mr. Kibum's pre-performance advice (‘Deep breaths. You can’t put on a good show if your head isn’t fastened on tight.’), you summon all your strength and screw up your face, shutting your eyes and squeezing as hard as you can.

“What is she doing with her face?” you hear Jungkook ask. But it doesn’t distract you. You’ve just felt water behind your eyelids.

Opening your eyes wide again, you let your lower lip wobble with practiced precision, chin trembling.

“Oh, Mrs. Jeon, is there no way I could stay for a bit longer? Just ten extra minutes, I promise.”

To your delight, she immediately looks unsure, eyes slightly widening in surprise and concern.

“Oh! – oh, but of course you can. I’ll call your mother right now and let her know. And why don’t you take some of those sandwiches for the road too? There’s no need to cry, sweetheart, you can spend as long as you want here.”

You continue with your act until she’s back in the house and the door swings shut behind her, after which you immediately right your expression, grinning smugly. Grabbing a sandwich, you sit back down and look at a bemused Jungkook and an awed Jimin.

“And that’s how you do it,” you say, satisfied with their reactions and tuning them out as Jimin fills Jungkook in.

For people who have money, adults really are terribly stupid. Jimin moving, you think again, taking a big gulp of lemonade. The thought almost makes you laugh. As if.

2020

“Y/N, could you debug my code real quick?”

“Y/N, I need ten copies of this immediately.”

“Y/N, you’ll need to stay back for a bit today to finish the patch testing.”

You rush from cubicle to cubicle, sharing harried smiles with the other interns that you meet in the hallway, running around like you with equally stressed expressions on their faces. They may have been here a few weeks longer than you, but you doubt they’re having it any easier.

You’re about to slip back into your desk after submitting the copies to Hoseok so you can get started on debugging the code you’ve just been sent, when a ringing voice calls out from the room you’re jogging past.

“Y/N! Come in here for a second, please.”

Immediately, everybody around you freezes. Slowly, they inch away from the door that you’re standing outside. Wide eyed, you meet Hyejin's gaze worriedly from across the room. She looks just about ready to drop the tray of paper coffee cups she’s holding, but tries for an encouraging smile. It comes out more as a grimace. You see pitying stares around you and foolishly wait for a few seconds for some sort of divine intervention, for somebody else who shares your name to get up and enter the room instead.

“Y/N, I don’t have all day!”

From the cubicle on your left, Namjoon hisses, “Go! Before she gets mad.”

Pulling yourself together and squaring your shoulders, you turn and look at the half open door in front of you. A plaque on the wood reads ‘Kim Jennie – Head of Product Development'.

You place your fingers on the handle and hear a fervently muttered prayer from an intern standing behind you. With a deep breath, you plaster a polite smile on your face and push the door open.

“You had called for me?”

“Repeatedly.”

Off to a lovely start, then. You walk over to her desk, stopping when you’re a couple of feet from it. She doesn’t immediately look up from her laptop, choosing to let you stew, no doubt.

You’ve just started subconsciously picking at your nails when she deigns to look at you, slowly removing her glasses and placing them on the desk.

Twice before you’ve been called to her office. The first time was because you were subbing for her sick assistant and had messed up her coffee order. The second was when they needed an intern to sit in at a high profile meeting to shorthand the minutes and you were the nearest one they could find. Both times you had received an earful – the former got you a stern admonishment and the latter an equally strict warning to ‘make it legible, at the very least, if you can manage that’.

You wonder what you’ve done wrong this time. Wracking your brains, you come up empty. You’ve been much too busy with the subjects to fuck up for the queen.

“How has your time here been so far?”

“I'm sorry?” you ask in befuddlement, certain that you’ve misheard her.

There’s a flash of a tiny smile before her mask comes back on.

“I may be firm, but I’m not heartless. Being an intern at this company isn’t easy. I just want to know how you’ve been settling in for the last month.”

Realising that you’re gaping, you hurriedly shut your mouth before clearing your throat and replying, “I’ve been learning a lot and I’m glad to have the exposure.”

“Okay, now give me the non-textbook answer.”

“I’m sorry?” you ask again, simultaneously feeling thrown off and like a damn fool.

“This isn’t college anymore, Y/N. I’m not your professor. I’m your boss, and maybe, some day, your colleague. You’re our newest intern and I know it can get a little intense, so I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable.”

You look at her suspiciously. Is this some kind of sick, twisted test? But you take in her serious but kind eyes and decide that she’s being honest enough. Now or never.

“Can you allow interns to use the fancier copiers? They’re quicker than the ones on the second floor that we use now.”

You get a raised eyebrow and for one, terrifying second, you think she’s going to throw you out of her room, out of the building, out of the company and write an email to all the other software companies in the world telling them not to hire you.

“There is no rule stating that interns can’t use the copiers here. Have you been climbing floors every time you need to copy something?”

Before you can stop yourself, you ask, feeling like a broken record, “I’m sorry?”

She rolls her eyes and you feel like a chastised child. That’ll teach you a lesson about listening to your brother’s best friend.

“Will that be all? Any other...legitimate grievances?”

“Oh no, that’s all. I’ll be – er, going then.”

You get a lazily waving hand in response and consider yourself dismissed as Jennie puts her glasses back on and turns her attention to her laptop screen. About to pull open the door, you stop short as you hear from behind you, “Maybe actually read the company policy instead of talking to Hoseok, yes? Ask my assistant for a pamphlet. I dare say Yeonjun should be able to give you more reliable information.” You can swear you detect an amused smile in her voice.

A few hours later sees you as the centre of attention in a crowd around the coffee machine in the break room, regaling the interns around you with the latest.

“She did that for me too,” Hyejin says once you’ve finished your story, taking another sip of her coffee. “She does it for all the interns but it’s usually batch wise. You probably had to go it alone since you joined late.”

Shrugging, you reply, “Either way, it was terrifying.”

Soobin gives you a soothing pat on your shoulder. “At least that’s done with. Now you’ll only have to talk to her again if you fuck up spectacularly or if you’re really, really good.”

You nod mindlessly, biting off a piece of the canteen sandwich and chewing thoughtfully.

“Hey, Y/N! Managed to get fired before even getting hired?”

You spin around and see Hoseok and Namjoon cackling like a bunch of stupid hyenas along with some other employees. Pushing past a giggling Hyejin, you storm over, seeing red.

“Jung Hoseok. How dare you make me run around the damn building just to get some copies whenI didn’t even have to?”

You’re glaring at him now, looking up at his gleeful face.

“Oh my god, did you ask her about it? What did she say? Fuck, I wish I was there.”

Huffing, you reply with your arms crossed, embarrassed. “She told me to ask Yeonjun for the company policy pamphlet.”

He howls in delight, slapping a grinning Namjoon's back. “Ah, I can’t wait to tell Yoongi about this. He’s gonna have a field day.”

Unamused, you continue glowering at him. To your increasing annoyance, he looks completely unaffected, bringing a hand up to ruffle your hair, giving you flashbacks to when he used to come over to your house to hang out with Yoongi all those years ago. You have to admit, he was a great deal nicer then than he is now, snickering at your fuming expression. You aren’t ten years old anymore.

Narrowing your eyes one last time, you turn around on your heel and begin to walk away.

“Meet at the entrance at six today?”

You don’t verbally reply, still walking and flipping him off over your shoulder.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

“Yes,” you mutter, just loud enough for him to hear before you leave the room in the crowd of interns you had entered with. Lunch breaks are only so short and those codes aren’t going to debug themselves.

“You alright?”

“Peachy,” you sigh, rubbing a finger on your temple as you let your head rest on the window next to you.

“It’s intense, isn’t it?” Hoseok asks, eyes focused on the road in front of the car.

“Yeah. I didn’t expect it to be this heavy.”

Attempting for a cheery tone, he replies, “But, hey! A month! That’s great! Most interns usually burn out by then, but you’ve managed to stick around.”

It’s a small consolation and you tell him as much, mindlessly watching the darkening sky as you get closer to home and to dinner and to bed.

“You’re doing well,” he says comfortingly. “Just give it some time. If you got through college, you can get through this.”

“When did you get so wise?” you chuckle, turning your head to see his lips quirk up in a teasing smile.

“When you were off gallivanting on the other side of the country and I was a lowly intern, just like you are now.”

Sputtering, you reply, offended, “I was in college.”

“Yes, that’s what they all say,” he sighs in a mock-patronising tone. “What’s up with your friend, though, Hyejin? She seems cool.”

“She isn’t into you, don’t bother,” you reply shortly, knowing exactly what Hoseok is asking.

“Not what I meant.”

“Hmm, I’m sure. Purest of intentions, yeah?”

Pulling up next to the curb outside your apartment, he crosses his index finger over his heart and replies haughtily, “Now that I know I don’t have a chance, yes, actually.”

You snort, unbuckling your seat belt and twisting around so you can get your bag from the back seat.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, pushing the door open.

He smiles kindly in return as he waves off your gratitude and says instead, “Don’t do any work this weekend. Product rolling week starts on Monday and you’re gonna need all your energy.”

“Is it more intense than usual?”

“Unfortunately so,” he replies through the open door to your standing frame with a grimace. “It's fun work, though. Just tiring.”

Nodding with a sigh, you shut the passenger seat and give Hoseok a wave as he smiles at you and drives away.

You trudge up the stairs, thanking all the higher powers for Jungkook and the fact that he had reached home earlier than you. You don’t think you can handle cooking right now.

“Kook! I’m home!”

You hear an unintelligible, muffled grunt from somewhere inside the house in response as you kick your flats off in the foyer and shut the front door behind you.

Moving inside, you drop your bag on the table and make your way to the utility room from where you had heard Jungkook's voice. You’re greeted by the sight of his sweatpants-clad butt as he ruffles around the open washing machine in front of him, dumping clothes into it from a basket in his arms.

“Is it laundry day already?”

You get an impatient huff in response and a muffled sound emerges. “Every day should be laundry day.”

Snorting, you reply to his face once he’s stood up and cracked his back with a grimace. “We get like three outfits a day at most. What are you going to put in there, your Halloween shrimp costume?”

“I thought we agreed to not mention that!”

He deposits the empty clothes hamper in your tired but accepting arms, gesturing you to place them on the counter behind and you do so, as you laugh, “Now why would I agree to something so stupid?”

“Because you’re stupid.”

“And you’re 22, but you still can’t figure out something more devastating than a middle school comeback, stupid.”

You watch, satisfied, as he sputters for a bit before glaring at you and turning on his heel, walking out of the room.

Grinning, you follow, feeling loads lighter after that interaction. Nothing like winning some good old-fashioned verbal sparring to get the sinews stiffened again.

He leads the way to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath as you walk behind him, your stomach rumbling something awful.

“Oh, bless your soul, it’s food!” you moan, rushing towards the box full of rice sitting on the counter.

“Lovely, so now my soul is blessed, but any other time, I’m stupid. You might want to heat – alright, then.”

You don’t pause as you rapidly continue shuffling the contents into your mouth like you haven’t eaten in days. Climbing up onto the counter, you chew and swallow, only pausing for a second in the middle to ask, “How was work?”

He brings down two tea bags from the overhead shelf. “Fine, I guess. Managed to get assigned a good story, so that’s something.”

Swallowing, you say, “That’s great! And the novel?”

With a shrug as he pours boiling water into the cups, he replies, “Haven’t made any headway. I’m still stuck at the same place.”

“Well, you have the weekend to focus on it. That’s bound to help, yeah?”

You set aside your empty box, feeling satiated, and accept the mug from Jungkook with a smile, nursing the warmth in between your palms and letting it steep as he takes a sip of his own tea while nodding.

“Hopefully. And class tomorrow should be fun, might get something there.”

You hum in response, pleased. The thought of your weekly dance class perks you up a bit as you feel your eyelids drooping at the soothing smell and steam of chamomile under your nostrils.

When you and Jungkook had found out that you’d both be coming back to your hometown for work after spending four years at different colleges, the first thing you two had done after finding an apartment to share had been re-enrolling at your old dance studio. Now Saturday mornings are exclusively reserved for listening to Taemin, Mr. Kibum's protégé, shout at you and roughly ten other young adults to ‘Dance, you lazy fools,’ like he’s an old man who’s angry at teenagers about stepping on his lawn instead of the 25 year old, recent fine arts graduate that he is. Most of the class, including Taemin, are people you’ve grown up with in the city, gone to school with, performed at recitals with when you all were teenagers.

Sliding off the counter, you take Jungkook’s cup from him and wash it along with your own. Now that you’ve been fed, you want nothing more than to go to bed so you can wake up in time in the morning. Once, you and Jungkook had made the mistake of being five minutes late, and now Taemin’s put a black asterisk next to both your names in the database, like he’s running a bloody pre school.

“Oh, and I almost forgot, Tae finally found a business partner!”

Stacking the cups on the side of the sink, you dry your hands as you reply, “I always knew he would. Is it somebody you know, from college?”

“No, he said they went to high school together and met again at a reunion party. “

You’re having trouble keeping up with the conversation at this point, feeling your eyelids becoming more insistent in their bid to shut, so you just pat an amused Jungkook on the shoulder in acknowledgement before you manage to say through a yawn, “I’m excited to meet him. ‘Night.”

“Remind me again why I didn’t dance more in college,” you groan from your sprawled out position on the wooden floor of the room.

Taemin walks up and down the three rows of tired, panting dancers, looking infuriatingly fresh and straight off the ramp despite having just run through a terrifyingly complex and intense routine. Your only consolation is the fact that he seems to be the only one.

“Because you’re a nerd,” comes the reply to your rhetoric.

You try to move your leg hard enough to connect with Jungkook's, but all you can manage is a pitifully weak love tap on his shin. He lets out a wheezy sort of laugh from his straight legged, sat down position on your right, body tiredly leaning on his palms behind him. On your other side, Hyejin is faring marginally better than the both of you. She looks a little tired, but eager to, god forbid, go another round. She always was more active in college. It used to annoy you, when she used to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go do something awful, like exercise, but now you wish you had joined her occasionally, if for nothing else but to have a stamina greater than a sedentary brick.

“On your way out, make sure you check the notice board in the reception for information about the competition.”

“Boom? It still happens?”

Taemin fixes you with a dry look as you slowly sit up and copy Jungkook’s position. “Shockingly enough, this institute runs perfectly normally even without you around, Y/N.”

Mr. Kibum taught him a bit too much, you think, as chuckles erupt around you.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Oh, please, we both know I’m only asking because a maximum of four teams used to participate when we were in school. Third place just meant second last.”

“We made it a solo and duet competition three years ago. More teams, easier to coordinate for participants. We’re doing much better than we used to.”

It makes sense. BigHit, as a studio, used to have a small but dedicated group of patrons. Everybody knew everybody, and there were only two rooms. But looking at how much bigger this new building is, and the number of students in this contemporary batch that you’re a part of, not to mention the multiple rooms that you pass by every weekend filled with screaming children learning how to pirouette and b-boy, it’s clear that there’s been an increase in customers.

The lot of you trudge outside the room, making your way to the entrance in a babble of ‘Goodbye!’s and ‘See you next week!’s. You can feel the familiar soreness setting into your legs and back, but it seems less intense than it used to be. You’re rifling through your bag for your water bottle as Jungkook reads the poster on the notice board.

“See you at work!” Hyejin calls out as she walks towards the doors, letting you give a distracted wave to her retreating back.

“Ah, shit, I think I left my bottle inside. Give me five minutes?”

Jungkook nods, not really paying attention to what you’re saying, too engrossed in the pamphlet.

With an internal groan, you turn around and walk back the way you just came until you reach the room you’re looking for. Pushing the door open, you stop to a sudden halt, feeling like the SpongeBob with headphones meme.

The sight you’re met with leaves you gaping. The man dancing inside is gliding through the music, elegance pouring out of every fingertip. His back is facing you, and you can make out the strength and control he has over his movements, shoulders fluidly firm and back flexing with each lift of his arms, slow twist of his hips through his plain white t-shirt. It seems, for a single, permanently ephemeral moment like the music is radiating from his very being, and not from the speakers on the side. You hardly realise that you’re still standing, that you’re still breathing, but watching his limbs flow with such commanding grace somehow makes you feel so, so alive.

Abruptly, the music stops, and you feel like you’ve been woken up from a year-long slumber, suddenly conscious of your body, of your existence. He still hasn’t noticed you, frozen as you are at the doorway, and he walks towards the speakers away from the door. You don’t look away, slightly out of breath, and with a start, you notice your blue water bottle on the floor next to his shoes on the side.

Gingerly, you step into the room and softly clear your throat, feeling like you’ve just desecrated someplace holy. The man turns around, speaker in one hand and phone in the other, slightly panting, and the moment comes to a standstill yet again, suspended with wild surmise.

“Y/N?”

The floppy brown hair, those twinkling eyes and pouty lips. Suddenly, you’re ten years old again, sitting with your best friend under a tree and discussing excuses to get out of doing homework.

“Jimin?”

You’re meeting each other in the middle of the room now in a tight hug, and you step away with a million questions running through your brain.

What’s Jimin doing back in this city? Why is he practicing in the studio alone? Is he staying? When did he get so pretty?

The last thought hits you like a bullet train and you impatiently shoo it away. It’s been twelve years, of course he looks different.

“You look great!” he says, eyes crinkling as he smiles, tiny dimple popping, in the I haven’t seen you in a really long time and this is how the script for such situations reads voice.

“So do you! How come you’re here?” you enthuse, referring to the same play, still reeling.

“I moved back a week ago! Do you still live here?”

“Moved out for college, came back for work-"

“Hey, Y/N, what’s taking you so lo – Jimin?”

“Kook! You’re here too?”

You watch Jungkook’s face morph through shock, surprise, confusion before mirroring your own expression of bemused joy as he meets Jimin in the middle for a hug. Seeing them like this makes your heart ache with the memory of the last time the three of you were together, that final evening under Jungkook’s tree, as the sun was setting on the horizon and you were all promising each other that you would write thrice a week. Even you and Jungkook, despite the fact that you both weren’t moving anywhere. Of course, not a single email was sent. Not unless you count that one week in college where you were avoiding your texts like the plague and used exclusively email to contact a very exasperated Jungkook (“Y/N, you literally do not even have to reply to my messages, but every time I get an email notification, I keep thinking it’s from the university and I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried when I see that it isn’t.”).

Before you know what’s happening, leave alone protest, Jungkook’s pulling you into the hug so your head is smushed into his chest, face a hair's breadth away from the side of Jimin's. He’s still giggling with Jungkook as the latter says, “Hey, this is so great! The three of us, just like old times, yeah?”

You take in the crinkles around Jimin’s eyes as he smiles, the sweet, high pitched, deliciously familiar sound of his laugh, his playful voice as he says, “It’s wild that you used to be the shortest of us,” to a faux offended Jungkook, and with the memory of him dancing like that still etched in your mind, you know that this is nothing like old times.

You push yourself out of the hug and plaster on a smile to cover how unsettled you feel on the inside. You’ve never been good with change, and this is a huge fucking change.

Laughing along for a bit, you let out an internal sigh of relief as Jimin winces and says, “Taemin and I are gonna be dancing together at the competition and he'll be here any minute, so I really should get back to practicing. He channels Mr. Kibum’s spirit even more when he has a vested interest in the outcome, and he really wants to win.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! No worries, we'll let you get back to it, then,” you utter, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything, just giving you one of his wide smiles before the three of you exchange numbers.

Jungkook finishes entering his contact on Jimin’s phone and hands it over to him. “We should totally catch up sometime, though!”

Jimin agrees enthusiastically with a swift grin and says, “Yeah, definitely! We'll make plans soon,” and the next thing you know, and not nearly quick enough, you’re out on the pavement, absentmindedly counting the tiles as you and Jungkook walk back home.

“Are you overthinking this?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by his question. He’s got an infuriatingly knowing look on his face that you want to smack right off.

“What’s there to overthink?”

“It really isn’t a big deal, you know. I mean, yeah, it’s been a million years since we saw him and it kinda sucks that we couldn’t keep in touch and obviously, puberty hit him like a glorious, gorgeous truck, but he’s still Jimin.”

Side eyeing him, you wonder if it’s a good thing that it sounds like he’s just read your mind.

Sighing, you reply, kicking at a pebble in front of you in half-hearted annoyance, “He’s just so...grown up. And old.”

“You're three months older than him, if I remember correct.”

Debating on whether you should direct your next kick at him instead and deciding to spare him, you say, “You know what I mean. I know he’s still Jimin, but I feel like I don’t know him at all. You should have seen him dancing, Kook, it was beautiful. So poised and graceful and wonderful and skilled. I’ve never seen anybody dance like that apart from Mr. Kibum, maybe. Who is he?”

“There, there,” Jungkook replies after your sudden, passionate outburst, patronisingly patting your head as you huff and shake off his hand. “We literally just spoke to him for the first time in twelve years. I feel weird about it too, but I’m sure we'll be more comfortable once we spend more time together. We’ve grown as well, yeah?”

First Hoseok, now Jungkook. The amount of wisdom that’s been shoved on you from unexpected quarters recently is quite astonishing.

You tell him as much, swerving his swatting hand and narrowly missing bumping into an annoyed couple walking next to you. Giggling as you simultaneously apologise and teeter precariously on your heel, trying to regain your balance, Jungkook lets you suffer for a while until he finally takes pity and grabs your hand just in the nick of time, standing you upright.

“Tae wants us to meet his partner tonight over dinner,” he says, ignoring your scowl of annoyance as you hoist your bag higher on your shoulder from its displaced position.

“I’m meeting Yoongi for dinner today, though.”

“Tell Tae that. He’s annoyed you aren’t replying to his messages anyway.”

In a mumble, you reply, “He shouldn’t take it personally.”

Jungkook just hums in response as you both climb up the stairs to the apartment, more than used to your delayed replies. “Can you get Yoongi to bake that chocolate cake again? I’ve been craving it.”

Pushing the door open, you say, already dreaming about dessert tonight and Yoongi’s cooking skills, “Me and you both, my dude, me and you both.”

Yoongi : How long will you take to reach?

Depends. How long will the cake take to get ready?

Yoongi : If you aren’t here in fifteen minutes, I’m eating it and only leaving enough for Jungkook.

Open the door.

“Took you long enough,” Yoongi huffs as you close the door behind you and step into the foyer, slipping off your shoes in the doorway.

“Hey, I was only listening to what Hoseok said. I am to, and I quote, completely relax this weekend because next week's gonna be hell apparently.”

He flicks you on the forehead, easily dodging your half-hearted counter attack before leading you into the house. The smell of food wafts out of the kitchen, nearly making you salivate. If there’s one good thing that’s come out of moving back to this city, it’s that Yoongi never moved out and where Yoongi lives, good cooking thrives. He always did pay more attention to your mother’s lessons.

You’re preoccupied with trying to guess what the smells are, eyes closed and nose sticking up, when you suddenly bump into your brother’s back.

“Move over, then. What are we waiting for? It doesn’t taste as good reheated,” you say, eagerly trying to move past his frame so you can enter the kitchen slash dining room.

But something in his manner seems shifty. Slowly, you bring the balls of your feet back to the floor and stop fidgeting as you take in his evasive expression.

Sighing, you ask, casting one last doleful expression to the doorway that’s so close yet so far, “What did you do?”

“Who says I did anything?”

At your unimpressed look, he huffs before taking a deep breath, as if to summon up some courage.

“Y/N,” he starts, his uncharacteristically sweet tone making you wary.

“Yes?” you slowly ask, simultaneously suspicious and curious.

He places his palms on your shoulders and your younger sibling instincts kick in, ready to punch him in the stomach if he tries to flip you. But there’s no trace of mischief in his unsure, slightly scared eyes. Pleased as you are that Yoongi feels the need to be cautiously terrified around you, you wonder what you’re about to hear that’s making him anticipate a negative reaction.

In a soothing voice, he says, tilting his head like how he used to talk to you when you were seven, “You know that you’re my favourite sister, don’t you?”

Okay, that’s it. With an impatient click of your tongue, you wrench his hands off and swiftly sidestep him to the kitchen doorway as you mutter, “I’m your only sister, fool.”

But the insult never leaves your mouth, stuck as it is on the tip of your tongue. You’re left halted at the doorway, gaping like a fish at the figure sat on the table, Yoongi’s voice urgently, uselessly hissing, “No, wait, don’t go in yet!” behind you and trailing off like a deflating balloon.

“Hello, Y/N,” Kim fucking Jennie says, pleasantly smiling up at you, looking completely unfazed.

“Hi- Hel- Hey, Jennie.”

Your embarrassing stutter ends in a growl as Yoongi behind you chuckles, his laughter morphing into a deeply satisfying grunt of pain as you elbow him in the stomach as discreetly as possible.

Jennie's slightly widening grin shows that maybe the motion wasn’t as discreet as you had hoped. Oh, well. As long as it hurt like a bitch.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at her with your mind blank. Twice in the same day, you’ve been left at a loss for words, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. She doesn’t seem to be too affected, sitting calmly and steadily looking at you through her black, full-rimmed, cat-eye glasses, like a drastically younger and more female version of an Asian Dumbledore. In fact, if anything else, she seems like she’s having quite a good time. Her smile doesn’t waver, and you’re still thrown by how young and non-terrifying she looks when you aren’t in front of her in a boss-intern capacity, but all that will come later. For now, you need answers.

Thankfully, at that moment, from behind you, in a voice that sounds disgustingly like a male turtle dove cooing to his romantic counterpart, Yoongi breaks the deafening silence. “Could you give us a moment, Jennie?” he asks, and with an amicable nod from your boss, he guides you back out to the living room with his hands on your shoulders.

The moment you’re out of earshot, you whip around to face him, mustering as much anger and irritation into your gaze as you can. “What the fuck?” you hiss, distantly glad to see him a great deal more scared than he had been when he laughed at you back in the kitchen.

Not giving him a chance to reply, you rapidly continue, “What is my boss doing in your bloody kitchen?”

He holds up his palms in a placating gesture as he says, “Now, I know this is a bit of a shock-"

“Figured that out all on your own, did you?”

“-but Jennie and I are...seeing each other.”

“Oh my god. Oh god. Holy fuck. I need to sit down.”

You drop onto the couch behind you, Yoongi tentatively following your lead, gingerly perching himself out of punching range.

As you try to wrap your head around this lovely surprise, he continues, “I know she’s your mentor and stuff, but it isn’t going to be any different at work or anything. You weren’t even technically supposed to meet her today. Her car's gone for servicing and her Uber’s running a little late.”

“Okay, wait, wait. How do you even know her?”

Looking slightly less wary, now that he can tell that you aren’t going to attack him, he says, “I met her at one of those company parties last year, when Hobi made me go as his plus one.”

You straighten up so fast, it’s a wonder your spine doesn’t crack. “Last year? You guys have been dating for an entire year?”

Trying to subtly shift slightly away once again, realising that the jury’s still out on physical violence, he slowly replies, “No, no, we’ve only been together for, like, two months, promise.”

You slump again, but shoot a venomous glare at Yoongi so he won’t lower his guard. “How old is she, even? And also, does Hoseok know about this?”

“28, and yes.”

“No fucking way,” you say, now in awe for a completely different reason. “She’s a division head before thirty?”

You regret it immediately, though, as Yoongi’s visage takes on a moony eyed expression. “Yeah, she’s really smart. Did her internship and online classes at the same time and skipped a grade in school.”

“Oh, ew, ew, okay fine, I understand. Stop doing that with your face, please,” you rattle off, completely disgusted by this ghastly display.

He’s about to say something, probably flattering because that always serves to soften you right up, when you hear the soft clearing of a throat. Both of you whip your heads in the direction of the sound comically fast to see Jennie at the end of the room near the foyer, phone in one hand and bag in the other. Immediately, the two of you stand up, although for different reasons.

It looks like she’s trying not to laugh as she says, “My ride's here, so I’ll let you guys get to dinner, yeah?”

“I’ll walk you out,” Yoongi immediately replies, taking on that tone that you’re quickly getting incredibly tired of.

Jennie nods with a wide smile, eyes crinkling on the sides as Yoongi gently places a hand on the small of her back once he reaches her. You try your best not to gag. You might be 22 years old with some reasonable amount of experience in the romantic field, but there are some things that you just do not need to see.

“See you at work, Y/N!” Jennie says. All you can manage is a half nod half bow, and ridiculously, you have to actively fight the urge to salute. You narrow your eyes as Yoongi lets out a snort at your actions that he quickly and not very convincingly tries to cover up with a cough, quickly ushering an amused Jennie towards the door.

An amused Jennie, you think, hardly daring to believe it, as you make your way back to the kitchen, determined to hold the chocolate cake ransom until he tells you more about Jennie. Only Jennie, mind you. Not Jennie and Yoongi. You wouldn’t want to touch that with a five-foot pole, not anytime soon, at least. But your mentor slash potential future boss alone, on the other hand, seems really fucking cool right about now.

“I’m telling you nothing. If I have to wait for a week to get a reply, you can wait a couple more minutes to see him for yourself.”

You scowl at Tae, holding your tongue from reminding him that replying to a stupid cat video ranks much lower on the urgency scale than being armed with some semblance of information about his new business partner that you and Jungkook are going to be meeting in five minutes.

Next to you, Jungkook snickers and says in a sing-song voice, “I told you so.”

Tae continues fixing you with that obstinate glare, lips wrapped around the bright, red straw jutting out of his plastic cup filled with something that’s probably too edgy and expensive to taste good. Like everything else on this menu.

When he had sent the address to the two of you, you had exchanged one of those looks, one of those only half-joking Can he pay our rent? looks and immediately started planning lunch at home before going for lunch at this...cafe? Restaurant? Bistro? Either way, the hard, wooden table in front of you looks more comfortable than the tall stool you’re sat on and the drink you’re nursing that was advertised as coffee tastes more like mud water mixed with cheap fertiliser.

The stool opposite you, next to Tae, remains empty as you all wait for this dude that you have absolutely zero information about. It'd be nice to be prepared, is all.

“While we’re waiting,” Jungkook starts, voice pleased at the stand off that’s happening in front of him. Always a slut for drama, that one. “Did Y/N tell you that Yoongi’s dating her boss?”

Tae's eyebrow lifts higher as he lets the straw go with a pop before saying, “No, she didn’t. But I’m not surprised.”

“About her not telling you or about Yoongi dating her boss?”

“Both,” Tae replies to Jungkook’s question, fixing you with a stern glare.

Before you can defend yourself, and it'd be a mighty solid defence seeing as how you yourself found out less than twenty-four hours ago, Tae continues, “Yoongi's always had a thing for powerful women.”

Sputtering, eyes wide, you say, “But you don’t even know my brother!”

Next to you, Jungkook roars in laughter, coughing as he swallows his weird, green concoction. You don’t bother helping him. Let him choke.

“Jungkook’s told me enough about him. He seems cool. I don’t know how you’re both from the same family.”

As you huff and flip him off, Jungkook, who’s just managed to calm himself down, sets off again. You’re about to chide him for laughing at your misery when the bell atop the door you’re facing gives a happy little trill, admitting the fifth patron in as many minutes, and decidedly the most unexpected, terrifying and beautiful entrant so far.

You can’t explain what you do next. You can’t even say that Jungkook has the whole apartment brain cell because he’s hiccupping into his drink and looking incredibly stupid while doing it. But your first instinct when you see Jimin enter is to hiss, “Oh, fuck no,” under your breath, panic in your gaze as Tae looks at you in concern, before slipping off the stool and ducking under the table, hitting your head in the process.

Pain blooms across your temple, but you have no time to attend to it, as the next thing you know, you’re belatedly realising that Jimin knows Jungkook too, and however well concealed you are, the other man is doing nothing to seem inconspicuous. Summoning all your strength, you’re about to give a good, strong tug to Jungkook’s pant leg, hoping that that should be enough to get him down here too, when from above you, you hear Tae loudly saying, “Jimin! Over here!” and Jungkook giving a tiny ‘Hey, it’s Jimin!’

What the fuck?

From your vantage point, you can see a pair of white shoed feet turning and walking closer, the tall table giving you a lovely view right up to Jimin's black jean clad thighs. Your mind is running a mile a minute, wondering whether you can manage to crawl out towards the door without anybody noticing and maybe sneak back in once Jimin’s left.

Before you can make up your mind, eyes glued onto Jimin’s approaching feet, Jungkook’s head pops down next to yours, floppy hair blocking your line of sight. “You good down there? Comfy?”

With a sinking feeling, you realise there’s no escape now, Tae’s voice already giving a small whoop of welcome. You shove Jungkook’s head a bit, nudging at him to straighten so you have enough space to clamber out, plastering a smile on your face.

You pop up just as Jimin reaches the table fully, he and Tae with wide grins on their faces as they both turn towards you and Jungkook after their ‘Hey!’s.

He looks even prettier than he had yesterday at the badly lit studio, floppy hair being held back by a pair of shades perched atop his head and eyes crinkled in what you now think is a permanent smile. You feel your fake grin morphing into something softer, more genuine as he tells Tae, “You didn’t tell me your friends were Y/N and Kook!”

Tae's befuddled expression is a sight to behold as you, Jungkook and Jimin continue beaming at each other in pleasant surprise. Vaguely, you think this should worry you more, your sudden, absolute lack of panic obviously a sign of insanity. But, honestly, you think you’re fine. Apart from the whole first reaction is to hide under the table thing.

Your heart might be beating a little faster than its resting rate, and your palms may be a bit clammy, but emotionally, it suddenly feels quite easy to be around him once you’ve seen how comfortingly familiar his dimples are.

“So, you’re Tae's business partner?”

“Yup,” Jimin nods as he pushes his stool closer to the table to get comfortable. “Small world, huh?”

Jungkook nods, knee bouncing excitedly next to yours as he takes a sip of his drink, grimacing after. “Definitely,” he replies through a wince.

Your own coffee sits in front of you, untouched after that first sip. Your gaze moves a little forward and gets momentarily caught on the silver bracelet on Jimin’s wrist.

“Where are you staying?” you ask, more to prove to yourself that you can say something without embarrassing yourself, because you know that Jimin saw your little escapade and he’s just too nice to bring it up, but Jungkook and Tae won’t be quite so forgiving when they interrogate you later.

“I’ve rented a studio apartment for now,” he replies, scanning the drinks menu in front of him. You wish him luck finding something good.

“How’s Yoongi? Still plays basketball?” Jimin asks, once he’s wisely decided to not order anything.

“He's dating Y/N's boss,” Jungkook says before you can respond, still, for some unfathomable reason, drinking his sludge-in-a-cup.

“Is that...is that a problem?”

“No, Y/N's just really scared of her. Like super wimpy when she’s around.”

Your whiny protest is halted by Jimin replying thoughtfully, “I’m kinda not surprised. I vaguely remember Yoongi dating that really intense emo girl once all those years ago. I see his type hasn’t changed.”

Huffing as Jungkook snickers and Jimin gives you a teasing grin that makes your stomach give a weak flop (which will be analysed later), you decisively say, “Yoongi’s fine. He lives here too and runs a tattoo place with Jin, the super tall dude who used to be over at my house all the time. And I’m not that scared of my boss.”

“Oh! Jennie, let me get that for you. Oh, of course, Jennie, I’ll do anything you ask, I’m so far up your ass – Ouch!”

Your foot makes contact with Jungkook’s shin, effectively stopping his disgustingly high pitched, incredibly inaccurate imitation of you, but does nothing to prevent your breath from slightly catching as Jimin giggles at his antics.

The perfectly pleasant, three-way tête-à-tête is interrupted by the loud sound of palms hitting the wooden table as Tae, whom you’re amused to say you had forgotten about, whips his head between all three of you, looking completely bewildered.

“Why are you all talking like you know each other?”

“I don’t know if I feel like telling you,” you reply, feeling vindictive at his betrayed expression. Now he knows.

Jungkook’s tight lipped next to you, sulking like the child he is and periodically bending down to rub his leg entirely too times to be warranted.

Jimin, on the other hand, looks curious as well as he asks, “I actually wanted to find out, too. How do you guys know Tae?”

Of course, you’ll answer him.

“He and Kook went to the same college. I, unfortunately, know him by association. How do you know Tae?”

“High school. We ran in the same circles.”

On noticing his business partner's annoyed expression next to him, Jimin continues with a faux-curious voice, bending forward on the table, leaning on his elbows so he can pretend to be interested, “How do you know Kook?”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine at the intensity of his eye contact, however playful it may be, in favour of aiding and abetting this mission of How Annoyed Can We Make Taehyung Today by replying, “Oh, twelve years of schooling together. What about you, how do you know Kook?”

Thoughtfully humming, he’s about to respond, but he’s interrupted by Tae saying in an annoyed voice, “Jungkook, if you answer my question, I’ll pay for your lunch.”

The response comes almost too quickly, but you can hardly blame him. Shit's expensive. “We all used to be best friends here until Jimin moved away right before middle school.”

“Oh, that’s wild,” Tae says thoughtfully, shooting you a smug look at having procured the information that you were withholding.

You all order food and conversation pauses as you, Jungkook and Jimin poke around in your meals, looking for something that appears edible, contrary to Tae, who seems perfectly content chewing mouthful after mouthful of bland celery and olives.

“Do you guys have a location for the store yet?” you ask, trying to spear a half-cooked pasta piece on your fork.

“We settled on a building yesterday! It’s pretty, lots of light and air, some good backroom space too.”

“And our first shipment's arriving in a few weeks,” Jimin adds, eyeing his plate suspiciously, as if the burger's going to eat him.

“We just need models now,” Tae nods, satisfied and leaning back on his chair, squeaky clean plate in front of him.

Jungkook seems to be trying very, very hard to not look at his salad as he eats it, and after what appears to be a very painful swallow, he asks, “Aren't you guys doing the modelling?”

And suddenly, the thought of Jimin smouldering in front of a camera rushes into your mind. You really wish this place had some normal fucking water instead of the herbed shit that’s there in the glass bottle at the centre of the table, because you really could do with some cooling down.

Once Tae's clarified that yes, they will be modelling their products but they also need a female model for that clientele, you clear your throat and ask, nonchalantly enough, toying with your fork, “Have – uh, do you have modelling experience, Jimin? Did you do some stuff in college, like Tae?”

“Oh, nothing big or official. Just a couple of shoots for a few showcases and helping out a friend who majored in photography.”

“He’s being modest,” Tae grins, all Cheshire like. “I’ve seen his photos, they’re really fucking good. If our products weren’t already so great, he would’ve been able to save them.”

Half of you wants so, so bad to see these pictures, to see him looking into the camera like he’s staring into your soul, but you think you’re maybe better off watching his blushing face and crinkling eyes, covering his flush with two hands, peeking through the gaps between short fingers.

You don’t realise you’re staring until you feel Jungkook giving you a tiny pinch on your arm, unseen by the others. Hurriedly busying yourself with the food in front of you once again, edibleness be damned, you push those thoughts away, grounding yourself with the solemn reminder that you have work the next day, Hoseok's warning glaring in your mind.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly enough, Jungkook letting out a crow of victory on seeing how expensive his dish was (because this is one of those places that’s too edgy for prices on the menu) and that he wouldn’t have to pay for it. There’s a momentary panic that sets in when you’re leaving, as Jimin goes in for a hug when your hand is still up in a wave, but you get out of it unscathed enough, only slightly embarrassed.

Tae : please?

No.

Tae : i'll pay for your petrol

As much as I love your money, no. Now stop bothering me, I’m almost at work.

Tae : ugh fine. but is there anybody you know instead? that girl who came for yours and kook's housewarming? hyerin something

...Hyejin.

Tae : yes her! could you ask her, please please please?

Will you pay for my meal the next time we go out?

Tae : only if you don’t pull a kook on me and order the most expensive thing on the menu

I can work with that. I’ll talk to her today.

Tae : okay thanks lylyly, let me know by the end of the day!

Snorting, you switch off your phone just as Hoseok pulls into the car park. Surreptitiously, you look around, searching for a familiar sleek black sedan.

“She won't be here yet. Always a little late on Mondays.”

You ignore his knowing look in favour of twisting around to get your bag as you huff and reply, “You don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“Oh, Yoongi told me everything. I don’t know why I keep missing all these moments between you and Jennie, they sound like such fun.”

Feeling partly relieved that you won’t have be having a super awkward interaction with your boss slash brother’s girlfriend first thing in the morning and partly resentful that Hoseok was able to read you so easily, you half heartedly scowl up at him as the two of you walk towards the glass doors.

“How was your weekend?” he asks, pushing the elevator buttons. The lobby is mostly empty right now, nobody else waiting with you for the lift that’s currently on the topmost floor.

Dryly, you reply, “Oh, has Yoongi not told you everything about it yet?”

At his exasperated look, you respond again. “It was whatever. Dance class, dinner with Yoongi, the shocking, life altering revelation that he's dating my boss, the usual. Oh, and you remember Jimin?”

“The kid you used to hang out with all the time in elementary school?”

“Yup. He’s moved back. Opening that clothing store with Tae.”

He hums in distracted interest as the both of you watch the elevator come closer to the ground floor, stepping on as it dings.

The doors are about to shut close when you hear a hassled ‘Just a moment, please!’ from outside, and on instinct, you press the button to keep the elevator open. Not a moment later, Kim Jennie slips into view, and enters the lift with a polite ‘Thank you,’ the very picture of professionalism.

The universe has started its meddling early today.

You and Hoseok shuffle backwards, making space for her as you catch his gleeful eyes. As the doors shut and she presses the button to the seventh floor, you can feel the familiar stifling awkwardness that always seems to appear when she’s around, only now it’s ten times worse.

You’re certain the lift has never moved this slowly before, but Jennie makes no sign of saying anything to you and you sure as hell aren’t going to bring shit up. But the same can’t be said of Hoseok, apparently.

He clears his throat, absently looking at the numbers moving on the display on the top of the elevator doors, and you shoot him a suspicious glance, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Conversationally, he asks, “How’s your brother doing, Y/N?”

You could murder him, you really could.

Eyes darting between Jennie's straight back and Hoseok's slightly shaking shoulders, you shortly grit out, “Fine.”

And then, just when the door finally opens and you’re determining whether he’s an important enough employee to be missed very terribly, you catch sight of a tiny, amused smile of Jennie's face as she walks out of the lift first.

It throws you off enough to let Hoseok go without any lasting damage, only breaking out of your shock when you notice Hyejin walking towards you, annoyed look on her face. In a flash, you remember your promise to Tae. Hyejin must be kept happy and agreeable and susceptible. If not, you’re doomed to be the newest face of the VMin Experience (because it isn’t something as basic as a store). Tae just has to offer to pay for a couple more things and you’re a goner.

“Four fucking emails. The office isn’t even fully open yet and I have four codes to debug before lunch already. Fuck product rolling week.”

This is for Tae. This is so I don’t make a fool of myself on camera.

With as sweet a grin as you can muster, you reply, “Why don’t you send me half of them? I can finish it up for you.”

It doesn’t have quite the effect that you’re hoping for. Instead of simpering and agreeing and giving you one of her trademark million-watt smiles, full of gratitude and good cheer, all she does is narrow her eyes suspiciously.

“Why do I feel like you have some ulterior motive to this?”

“No! No ulterior motive, I promise. Just wanted to make things a bit simpler for you. Can I not want my closest friend to be relaxed?”

She regards you for a moment, beady eyed. Apparently deciding that you sound legitimate enough, she slowly takes out her phone and forwards two emails to you.

“Fine, but only because I’ve just been sent on a coffee run and Namjoon’s drink always takes too long to make.”

“Of course,” you reply, nodding genially as you hear a ping from your pocket. And then for good measure, you summon the lift for her, holding the door open as she steps in, smile plastered on until the doors shut on her sceptical eyes.

Tae : have u asked her yet

It’s been two minutes since we made this agreement.

Tae : so that’s a yes?

It’s an I’m-working-on-it. If you keep asking me every two minutes, I’m blocking you.

Tae : hope you aren’t planning on convincing hyejin with that sunny attitude

Fuck off.

You thank your cab driver as you exit the vehicle, watching with slight regret as he drives away. Might have been useful to have a getaway car.

Product rolling week is not, in fact, an entire week. It apparently runs only until Friday morning, after which all of you get a let-off, leading to a fake, watered down excuse of a three-day weekend.

And if it were up to you, right now on said Friday evening, you’d be curled up under covers after an early dinner (like 6 PM early), with a cup of tea and a good book, doing your damnedest to forget the just completed week from hell and mentally preparing for two, glorious, work-free days.

But no. You have no book with you. No blankets and pillows and no warm tea. All you have is Uber surge pricing and the building that you’re standing in front of that reads The VMin Experience on a small, wooden, obviously work-in-progress board.

You opt to watch from the outside for a bit, looking into the store through the glass. They’ve got two mannequins up already, one dressed in street fashion with a backwards snapback and the other in a whole ball gown, pearl string necklace included. It’s an experience, alright. Squinting, you can make out a wall that still has plastic wrap up and a ladder with a few stools, paint cartons on the floor. The store seems empty, but the message from Hyejin on your phone reads ‘COME TO THE BACK ROOM!!!’.

Casting one last, rueful look at the street, you sigh and push the door open, immediately hit by the smell of turpentine and varnish and general construction work. There are golden track lights fixed on beams from the ceiling illuminating a few naked mannequins on the floor and you pick your way through the newspapers to reach the door behind the payment counter.

The first thing you see is Jungkook speaking into his phone held in one hand and holding up an umbrella stand with the other. Then you notice Tae crouching, camera held up to his eyes, shutter clicking as he focuses away from you. You observe as Hyejin does her smoulder-smile-pout routine that fills her Instagram feed and shoot a quick thank you to the universe that she had agreed so easily to doing this shoot. There’s no way you could have done what she’s doing now without spontaneously combusting.

In the corner of the room, there’s a clothes rack pushed right up to the wall, filled with hangers and sample clothing that they’re modelling right now. You see it jiggle a bit and realise with a start that there’s somebody changing on the other side. And it doesn’t take a genius to realise who the somebody is.

At the sound of your shoes scuffing the floor, there’s a temporary halt in the proceedings as Tae turns around and says, “Oh, finally. Move that light a bit closer. This is a bitch to do alone and Jimin’s taking too long to change.”

You'd linger a bit longer on the offense that you’re feeling at being ordered about like this, but Jimin’s head pops up from behind the stands at that moment as he replies with a grunt, “This outfit has too many fucking layers, I’m stuck,” and suddenly, as you’re assaulted by a hint of his clavicle, the annoyed pout on his face and the disgruntlement in his eyes that morphs into happiness as he notices you, any and all displeasure you feel at Tae's tone flies right out the window.

You wave shakily in response, watching with a tinge of sadness as he disappears back down, only for Tae to huff and say, “Okay, Y/N, new plan. Go help Jimin with that outfit. I’m finished, Hyejin’s almost done. Just Jimin’s last shot and we can wrap up.”

You wonder what kind of expression you’re sporting at Tae's demand. Something between shock, fear and a weird, perverted, refusing-to-be-tamped-down sense of glee. Either way, you have no choice as he just goes back to photographing Hyejin, who slips right back in to model mode after giving you a big, cheery wave. Jungkook only fixes you with an apologetic sort of look as he continues to talk into his phone and move the umbrella the way he’s asked to.

He’s recently taken to dictating his novel instead of typing it out, and it’s led to you waking up at ungodly hours in the middle of the night on hearing Jungkook curse after stubbing his toe while pacing, talking into either his phone or his laptop. As a software professional, you’re glad. As somebody who quite enjoys sleeping, not so much.

When you hear another grunt from behind the clothes hanger, you’re forced into action, dropping your bag next to Jungkook’s work sling on the floor before calming your nerves with a deep breath and making your way towards the corner.

You stop right in front of the rack, gaze firmly fixed on an invisible point on the recently painted, smooth, grey wall, a few inches above your eye level. Teetering on the balls of your feet, you slowly ask, “Uh, Jimin? Do you need any help?”

Please say no, please say no, please say no. Don’t do this to me.

“Ugh, yes, please. That’d be great. You’ll have to come in through the clothes though, just move some hangers around.”

Thanks a fucking lot.

With another deep breath, you hesitantly pluck at the hanger right in front of you that’s holding a black, sequined jumpsuit that you’d probably think of buying if you hadn’t known that The VMin Experience has luxury brand pricing. Maybe if you take long enough, Jimin will be able to figure it out himself.

“Uh, Y/N? I can’t move my hands.”

No point in holding out for a hope then.

Internally sighing in acceptance of your fate, you push the hanger to the side so you can step in through the ensuing gap.

You’re greeted by the sight of your ex-best friend's naked, taut back, his arms stuck upright in a weird angle above his head, pale blue shirt stretched across his elbows and multiple white silk straps trailing out from it towards the floor.

You can’t look away from it, from the back of his neck to his shoulders, eyes trailing down until they reach the small of his back, centre of his tapering waist, and the moment you notice that he’s wearing tight, black, leather pants, you suddenly feel very warm. It’s a cramped space, and you’re covered on all sides by two walls and a tall, diagonally placed clothes rack, and the awareness that you’re so close to him, and that he’s hardly decently clothed, and that he has the prettiest fucking neck hits you like a truck loaded with arrow wielding baby cupids.

“Were you able to get in? I can’t tell, I’m afraid I’ll fall if I try turning around.”

His voice echoes in the closed space, making the privacy and proximity even more prominent, and it’s an effort to keep your voice from shaking with nerves and breathlessness as you reply, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m here. How do you want me to help?”

“Let me just turn around, give me a second. I think a thread's caught on my finger, if you could just – Oh, fuck.”

It’s instinctive, how your arms shoot out in alarm as he nearly topples over in his attempt to shuffle around, your hands landing on his waist as you straighten him, helping him regain his balance. The moment he seems stable and not a second later, you tug your burning limbs back, memory of his soft, warm skin seemingly permanently embedded in your fingertips.

He can’t see you, a random flap on the front of the shirt hanging over his eyes, and it’s probably for the best given your wide eyed, terrified expression. There’s a flush beginning at the base of your neck and rapidly climbing up, and it distantly annoys you. It’s not like you’re the one who’s half-nude and momentarily blinded.

“Okay, so if you could just untangle that strap near my finger, I think it should be fine. I just need to be able to move my elbows.”

You stop staring at the tiny litter of moles on the right side of his waist with a start, rushing into action, belatedly and furiously realising that your mouth is open and likely has been ever since you entered this holy sanctum of inadvertent porn.

Taking a tiny step closer to his frame, you lightly stand on the balls of your feet so you can begin extracting him from the fabric. He stands silently, but this close, you can feel his steady breath on the side of your head as you deliberately concentrate on getting the shirt across his elbows. You try your hardest to not touch his skin, but it’s difficult when the cloth is this tangled, and at one point, your pinkie finger ends up twisted around his, and in a flash, you’re transported to a decade ago, when the two of you had linked fingers in his backyard and solemnly promised each other that neither of you would ever, ever kiss somebody, because kissing is disgusting and gives disease.

You feel a squeeze around your finger and you flinch. From behind his makeshift veil, you hear Jimin chuckle before softly saying, “I remember it too.”

Trembling, you give a tiny quirk of your lips that is, in theory, a grin, but probably more of a grimace in execution, before you hurriedly move on. You ignore his small hands, the bracelets on his wrist, his breathy giggle as your fingers accidentally brush against the inside of his elbow, the bumpy patch of mosquito bites on his shoulder as you undo the messy loops that the straps have managed to wind themselves into.

Before you can step away, the fabric falls, revealing his face and a relieved grin, teasingly, nerve-wrackingly close to your own.

You clear your throat, rapidly stepping away, looking anywhere but at him.

“Thanks, Y/N!” he says cheerily, tying the straps at the wrist together, as you obstinately refuse to drink in the perfect way the problematic outfit fits his body that you’ve seen entirely too much of.

“No problem,” you mumble, and you’re surprised yourself at how steady your voice comes out. “Anything else I can do for you here?”

A cheeky grin followed by, “Nothing, unless you want to watch me take my pants off.”

You chuckle along with him, blocking out any and all images that your mind is conjuring as you hurriedly step away from him, ducking out from under the hangers and reappearing on the much cooler, much larger and much more oxygen-rich other side.

As you move the light around the way Tae asks you to, absently looking at Hyejin finishing up and Jungkook closing his phone with a satisfied expression, you force yourself to relax, to slow your breathing, to ignore the rustle behind you as Jimin comes through and steps in front of the camera.

You can hardly hold a decent conversation with Jungkook and Hyejin as the three of you eat dinner together at a café nearby once the shoot is over, only supplying miscellaneous hmm's and haw's as they discuss the dance competition at BigHit. It’s a small, saving grace that ensures that Jimin and Tae stayed behind to do some decorating instead of joining you. You can’t imagine just how much more you can take of these annoying, bodily reactions every time Jimin even breathes in your general direction, and you refuse to analyse them now.

“Are you alright? You’ve been sort of quiet today,” Jungkook softly asks later as the two are walking home, streetlamps casting shadows in front of you.

“Fine,” you reply, waving away his concern. “Tired, that’s all.”

He doesn’t let up. “Hyejin said you were a bit jaded while leaving the office today morning. You’re sure you’re okay?”

You run with it. It’s easier than explaining that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about the half-naked form of the third best friend of your little group from elementary school. “Yeah, I had a bit of a headache. Long week.”

“Well, it’s over now!” he says cheerily, ever the optimist. “And there's dance class tomorrow, that should be fun.”

Not if it goes anything like last week’s class, when you met Jimin for the first time in more than a decade.

You manage a small smile and he takes it, probably thinking you’re still exhausted from work, turning back to face the pavement.

“Y/N.”

“Kook.”

“Y/N.”

With an annoyed huff, you let yourself fall onto the couch behind you as Jungkook promptly does the same. His phone is open in his hands, email from BigHit open on his screen. You hadn’t bothered to read the body after seeing the subject, but apparently, Jungkook wasn’t so dismissive.

“Come on, there’s prize money. Prize money. How is this not enticing you further?”

“I haven’t danced properly in four years, Kook. And that money’s only if you win.”

“So we'll practice! Remember how well we used to dance together in those high school showcases? And how much fun you used to have? Do you remember, Y/N? Do you remember what fun is?”

He gets a little intense by the end of it and you respond with a flick to his forehead, the most you can manage in your still sleepy, exhausted haze. Both of you are tired, him from class and you from the long, sleepless night you had spent tossing and turning and willing away flashing images of bare backs and white straps and stupid giggles and tiny fingers.

And Jungkook thinks he can convince you to participate in Boom along with him when you’re in this condition.

“Why can’t you ask Hyejin?”

Absently rubbing the tender spot on his forehead that your finger had satisfyingly connected with, he doesn’t let up, only fixing you with a pleading look that you’d be more susceptible to if you haven’t been on the receiving end of it a million times before.

“Hyejin’s going solo.”

“Oh, so I’m a last resort?”

He sputters and you watch, satisfied, thinking he'll give up now, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, only scrambling momentarily before he shoves his phone insistently in your face.

“How are you so sure we'll lose?” he demands. “And even if we do – don’t look at me like that, – it isn’t that big of a deal! It’ll be fun, please? Now that you have some free time and I’ve at least got a vague sense of where I want my book to go? The competition’s three weeks away, that’s a lot of time.”

You know you have no choice but to agree once he’s given his little speech. You’re teetering at the edge of a decision when he opens his mouth again, excited look on his face.

“And we'd probably end up bumping into Jimin more!”

Shields up, defensively, you ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Confused, he replies, “We haven’t spoken to him properly yet, yeah? And we’re all so busy during the week that we haven’t had a chance to catch up since we found out he’s back.”

Relaxing a bit, you say, “Oh! Oh, yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

But Jungkook doesn’t seem entirely convinced. A shrewd look overtakes his face, eyes narrowing in a suspicious expression that you’re not entirely fond of. Slowly, he asks, “Why? What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing! Anyway, I’m gonna go shower. We can start practice tomorrow and all my evenings are free next week!”

You ramble it all out in a rush, some unknown energy appearing as you jump off the couch and leave the room rapidly. Behind you, you can hear Jungkook mumbling in confusion, but pleased nonetheless as he registers both your names for the competition.

You wonder if you’ll be able to get through a single conversation ever about Jimin without your stomach erupting in dread and awkwardness and terrifying fear. And more importantly, you wonder how long you’ll be able to avoid it and how long you’ll be able to hide it from your shockingly perceptive roommate. When his head isn’t stuck inside the washing machine or under restaurant tables.

“Oh, it’s been too long since we did this last,” Hyejin says as she tops up your glass with some dollar store wine, setting the bottle on the centre table before she leans back on the couch, her own glass held precariously as she folds her pyjama clad legs under her, head propped up by an arm resting on the back as she faces you eagerly.

You respond with an agreeing nod as you take a sip of your second glass, cross-legged on the other end of her sofa.

“Now,” she begins, all business-like, and it immediately puts you on edge. “Are you going to tell me why you didn’t come for class today morning?”

Shrugging as nonchalantly as you can, you reply, “I over slept. Recovering from the week, I think.”

And from Jimin, a traitorous voice in your head adds. You impatiently shoo it away. You aren’t going to tell her that you woke up with your alarm, came as far as taking a shower and wearing your leggings, even began to pack your bag, before being faced by the possibility of meeting Jimin today. You can’t tell her that you chickened out at the last minute and when Jungkook knocked on your door, asking if you were ready to leave, you had faked a headache and decided to stay in. You can’t tell her that you’re avoiding your childhood best friend because he’s too fucking pretty and too fucking sweet and invokes too many bloody emotions in you that you prefer to circumvent, still not having registered them yourself.

She nods shortly, but her voice remains uncertain as she asks, “Are you sure? You did seem a bit shaken yesterday after the shoot yesterday.”

You wave away her questions dismissively. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, promise.”

She drops it, taking another slow sip. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

The two of you drink in silence for a bit, only sounds being the occasional slurp and the knocking of glass against teeth.

“Are you participating in Boom?”

Scowling, you reply, “I have been strong armed into doing so, yes.”

She grins at you over her glass as she takes a sip, “Jungkook asked me if I wanted to be his partner today. When I told him to just ask you, he got kinda squinty eyed. I think he knew you were going to put up a fight.”

Flattered about your reputation, you give a short, satisfied nod before you ask, “Is BigHit letting participants use their rooms for practice?”

“Oh, Taemin told us about all that today. All rooms are full on weekday evenings and weekend mornings. Every other time is free.”

You feel your stomach sink. You’ll be the first to admit that this wasn’t your preferred choice of activity for the next three relatively easy, work wise, weeks, but now that you’ve committed, you want to win, godammit.

She gives you a sympathetic grin, patting your knee. “I know, those are the only free slots we’ve got. But what're you gonna do?” she shrugs.

“We'll have to find a place. Maybe we'll just move around some furniture in the living room.”

Again, you both relapse into silence, thinking about how to make it work. Slowly, a tiny frown appears on Hyejin's face, the kind that she gets when she’s just thought of a possible way to get rid of an error in a code but isn’t sure if it'll work without fucking up some other section of the program.

“You could ask Tae and Jimin if you can use their shop,” she slowly says, looking at you unsurely.

Even as your heartbeat picks up, you fight to keep your face placid as she continues, “Like, I know it’s new and shit, and it’s their baby and all that, but it’s roomy enough. It isn’t like you’re both gonna go wreck the room by dancing. And that back room that we used last night for the shoot, that could work!”

She looks at you, waiting for an answer. You buy some time, contorting your expression in one of contemplation as you lean forward to refill your glass, but inside, you feel like you’re warring with yourself.

It’s a pretty good idea!

But Jimin.

They aren’t opening the shop for two more weeks!

But Jimin.

It’s not like they’re gonna say no!

But Jimin.

“I’ll talk to Jungkook about it,” you say, keeping your voice level, settling for the most diplomatic and inconspicuously evasive answer you can manage.

She nods, content with your reply as she leans back. You mindlessly make your way through your glass, once again, annoyingly, caught up with thoughts that don’t bear thinking about, when her downturned phone on the coffee table in front of the couch pings with an alert.

It’s always shocked you that you know somebody who doesn’t permanently keep their phone on silent or vibrate, but you can’t dwell on it for too long.

“Taehyung just sent me the photos from yesterday!”

Fuck.

Her excitement is infectious, though, as she clambers closer to you, grinning eagerly, phone tilted so you can see the screen loading. You place your glass on the table before leaning back comfortably, cushion on your lap and heart in your mouth. Best not to be holding delicate items when you see this.

Distantly, you wonder whether you can make a quick getaway, or come up with a believable excuse in such short notice. You had sort of envisioned yourself being alone when you saw Jimin's pictures. Last night, after the...emotional debacle, you had studiously not looked at him for the remainder of the shoot, only moving around the light when you were asked to, gaze stuck on the ground or trading funny expressions with Jungkook across the room. Your goodbye had been perfunctorily cordial, steps consciously measured as you walked out, skin burning at the memory of the hug he had left you with.

Are you excited to see Hyejin’s and Tae's photos? Yes.

Can the same be said of Jimin’s? Not out loud.

You shoot a quick prayer up, although you’re beginning to quickly lose whatever meagre amount of faith you once had, just as the screen finishes loading, tiny thumbnails appearing.

You squeeze your hand in a fist, preparing for the worst as Hyejin opens the top image. Irrational as it is, you curse Tae for putting Jimin’s photos first as you’re assaulted (blessed?) by the dancer looking somewhere to the left of the camera, body languidly, precisely positioned with all the elegance and strength that comes when he’s on stage, deliberately supercilious pout playing on his lips, eyebrow cocked in a challenge to whoever’s in the background.

Nothing big or official, my ass.

Photo after photo flashes in front of you as you take in his smug smirk in one, his hip jutting out sideways in another, his fingers partway through running them through his hair, him in the middle of a giggle that you can hear, eyes shining, dimple popping. Distantly, as you greedily drink in the white straps dripping from his outfit as he smoulders, looking like an ethereal dream, you realise that you don’t want the pictures to stop.

You don’t pay attention to how obvious you’re being until you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, pulling you out of the map you’re tracing with your eyes along Jimin’s neck, and with a start, you notice that you’ve been looking at the same image for nearly half a minute.

You shut your mouth abruptly at the expression on Hyejin’s face as she looks at you, head tilted. The silence is heavy, pregnant as you try to find some way to get out of this mess.

“Y/N,” she slowly starts, caution in her voice as she lowers the phone before you can say anything.

Not meeting her eyes, you squeak out, “Yes?”

She doesn’t say anything at first, only surveying you with that same, scrutinising, unsettling expression as you carefully retrieve your half-full glass, everything on edge.

“Something you’d like to say?”

“No, not really.”

She just hums in response, bringing the phone back up to go to the next lot of photos, these of Tae. She drops the conversation there, but you’re under no allusions as to what she’s figured out and what she hasn’t. The faint blush on your cheeks should be indication enough, if your blatant ogling wasn’t. All she does is give you a gleeful, knowing look, one that’s full of significance and that reads ‘I know what this is about, but I won’t make you talk about it now because you look like you’re about to shit a brick,’ before she clears her throat and continues scrolling through the photos.

You’re apprehensive as you do the same, leaning back to your previous position and casting a dubious sideways glance at her, but all she does is roll her eyes and say, “You think too much.”

Real genius, that one.

Either way, you’re grateful she doesn’t bring it up then. Or later, when you’re both eating ramen out of the pot as Seinfeld plays on the television. Or even in the dark, when you’re both about to fall asleep, because the older you’ve gotten, the more you’ve begun to truly appreciate the sleep part of sleepovers. The next morning, as she’s waving you away at the door, the only indication she gives that she even remembers the conversation is a wink and a ‘Don’t worry.’

She should become a therapist, what with all her golden wisdom.

“Come again?”

Exasperated, you sigh before you obediently repeat, kicking your feet up on the counter and leaning back languidly on the rolling chair, “Jungkook’s late.”

Yoongi looks at you suspiciously as he repeatedly pokes your shin to get you to remove your shoes from his precious work station. “But Jungkook’s never late. That’s your thing.”

Scowling, you impatiently swat his hand away as you reply, “Yes, I know. But he got held up at work.”

He gives up, resigning himself to moving the needles away to keep them safe from your pivoting feet. “I keep telling him he should quit. What kind of company makes their employees stay this late on a Friday evening?”

“Luxury magazines for affluent readers,” you respond, your fingers up in air quotes. “Either way, if his novel does well, he’s out.”

Infuriatingly predictably, you had chickened out of asking Tae and Jimin about using their store for practice. And Jungkook hadn’t even thought about it, which was great. In fact, you hadn’t spoken to Jimin the entire week. You wouldn’t go so far as to say you had been avoiding him, but twice, when Jungkook had tried getting the three of you together ‘like the old times', you had lied about having office work, despite the fact that this had been the most relaxing week in your intern life so far.

The past four weeknights were spent in your new practice studio: the backroom in Yoongi’s tattoo parlour. You wouldn’t say it's the most ideal of spots for multiple reasons.

One of them being that every time you’re late (read: every evening so far), Jungkook and Yoongi have a jolly good time talking shit about you. You’d think your roommate and your brother would hold some amount of love and respect, but when you had entered the room on Monday evening at 7:15 PM, they were compiling a lovely list of Top Ten Times Y/N Has Embarrassed Herself In Public. And they didn’t even have the gall to seem sheepish. Jungkook had just looked at your scowl with an amused grin and Yoongi had said, “If you’re late tomorrow, we're going to make one for the number of times you’ve whined about something stupid.”

And then on Tuesday evening, when you had dawdled for too long around the corner, trying to decide between having dinner before or after practice (and eventually settling on skipping the meal entirely), you had entered the shop at 7:21 PM, only to see Jennie and Jungkook engaged in a wonderful conversation about God knows what, all smiles and ‘Nice to meet you!’s. You were stuttering through your customary, “Oh! Hel – hi!” with Jungkook snickering in the background when Yoongi came out from the back, tossed you the keys and told you to lock up, and then swept a very bemused Jennie out the front door.

Wednesday was fun, in that Yoongi was busy with a late appointment and you and Jungkook made some headway, but on Thursday, Hobi decided to sit in, so it ended up being two hours of ‘What are you doing with your hands?’ and ‘Make it look natural, guys,’ as he and Yoongi traded sips from the emergency whiskey flask that your brother keeps in the shop.

And now, 7:30 PM, Friday evening. Two weeks left for the competition and you and Jungkook have been getting on fairly well, better than you had anticipated. If only he'd show up.

You send him a message, deciding to call him if he doesn’t reply in the next ten minutes, when you hear a polite knock on the door. Confused, you look at Yoongi with a tilt of your head. Jin’s out of town, Hobi doesn’t knock and Jungkook sure as hell doesn’t knock. He looks just as bewildered as you, letting go of the tattoo pen he was in the process of arranging and slowly walking towards the door. A louder, more urgent knock comes and you let your feet fall on the floor with a thud as Yoongi hastens to open it.

You hear the voice before you see the owner, nearly falling off your chair as you make a clear path to the sofa at the end of the room as Jimin and Yoongi carry a clearly unconscious Jungkook to it, laying him down as you rush behind them, worriedly asking the newcomer, feelings be damned, “What happened?”

“I was passing by when I saw him walk into a pole and fall down,” Jimin replies.

You don’t want to laugh, you really don’t, but as Yoongi sprinkles some water on your dance partner’s face and he slowly begins to stir, you can’t stop a simultaneously relieved and disbelieving giggle from erupting.

“He what?” you ask, calming down enough to kneel down on the floor, next to Yoongi, and look in awe at your roommate, marveling at his stupidity.

Jimin shrugs as he explains, “He was looking at his phone and just sort of walked into the pole. I didn’t know where to take him, but I remembered you saying something about your brother having a tattoo parlour somewhere here and figured I’d try my luck.”

“He weighs a ton. How did you carry him?” Yoongi asks as he adjusts Jungkook so he isn’t in danger of falling off.

“It wasn’t easy,” he replies. “What does he eat?”

“Protein mostly,” you respond, as Jungkook finally opens his eyes. You imagine it must be quite an experience for somebody to come back to consciousness and see three half-amused half-concerned faces swimming above them, but Jungkook handles it admirably.

“Wazza?” he blearily asks, drool slipping out the side of his mouth as he struggles to sit up.

The three of you back away, Yoongi handing him a bottle of water.

“You’re in my place. You fell outside. Jimin got you here.”

Jungkook gulps some water as he tenderly presses at the faintly purpling bruise right at the centre of his forehead. “Oh, thanks. Did I look cool?”

Jimin winces before replying. “You walked into a metal pole, so I’d say no.”

If your roommate were a normal, sane man, he’d be upset on receiving this news. At least slightly embarrassed. Not that his line of questioning had indicated anything even remotely resembling intelligence, but you’d think that at this point, he’d make up. But on the contrary, his glazed eyes clear up and a gleeful look overtakes his face.

“Do you think he has a concussion,” you mutter out of the side of your mouth to Jimin, as Jungkook opens his mouth to say something.

The giggle you get in response should not make you feel like prancing around in a field of roses and calling all humans your best friends.

“I remember why I was distracted! I got it!”

“Got what, a disease?”

For somebody who was recently unconscious, he’s capable of a great stink eye. You’re vaguely impressed.

“I got the next scene. Where’s my phone?”

Jimin moves towards the couch, pulling Jungkook’s mobile out of his back pocket and handing it to him. “Maybe don’t type while walking on the road next time,” he grins as he takes a seat next to him.

You hadn’t noticed Yoongi leaving the room, but he walks back in now with a bottle of fruit juice, speaking as he makes his way to the couch that the three of you are now sitting on, Jungkook feverishly going through a word document in the middle.

“This reminds me of when you all would come over and sit for hours on the couch in front of the television at home. Mom would give you all the snacks and then send me to do a grocery run at that corner shop the moment you left,” he says, fond smile on his lips as he gives Jungkook the bottle.

In a trice, that’s where you are, ten years old, Jungkook sitting wide eyed as you quickly got bored and kept changing channels because ‘This is my house, so I get to decide what we’re watching,’ and Jimin giggling ever so often at the miscellaneous cartoons you skimmed through.

“Shit, that couch was the best,” present Jimin sighs as he leans back on the seat, you and Jungkook nodding in agreement.

It’s easier to think of him that way. As your best friend of eight years that you shared all the drama and excitement and blown-out-of-proportion, self obsessed sadness that came with infancy, adolescence and preteen years, who left right before middle school, cutting your trio down to two. Maybe if he had left later, it wouldn’t be so hard to navigate him now, but you were all too young to keep in touch, and school and extra curriculars took over and now, seeing him after all these years, he’s just lying in that sweet spot between achingly familiar and unsettlingly different.

You don’t realise you’ve zoned out until Yoongi asks, “Do you guys still need the place for practice tonight or can I lock up?”

“Oh, I saw that you two were paired together in the sign-up form! Is this where you’re practicing?”

“Yup,” Jungkook replies, making sure his juice bottle is out of your reach. He’s probably noticed you eyeing it like a cat about to pounce for the last few seconds. “Where are you and Taemin practicing? Do you get extra BigHit room privileges?”

Jimin sighs a little, disappointed frown on his face that you realise, with a start, you want to kiss away. And then, belatedly, you wonder why you’re even surprised any more. “We had to drop out. Taemin got too busy with organising the competition and by the time he told me, it was too late to sign up as a solo performer.”

You can tell he’s upset, but he does an admirable job covering it up, pouted lips morphing in a wide smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he continues, “But I’m super excited to watch you guys on stage, though!”

All intentions of grabbing Jungkook’s bottle when he’s distracted fly out the window at the sympathy you feel. If that day, when you saw him dance in that practice room, is any indication, it can’t be easy for him to sit back and watch others on a stage participating in a competition he can win with his eyes closed.

“Oh, that sucks, man,” Jungkook says as you wrack your brain for something that sounds a little less hollow and a little more comforting. You come up empty and offer a sympathetic grimace, but somehow, you think he understands what you’re trying to convey. Like that secret code the three of you had, where vowels were consonants and consonants were vowels and everything had to be written upside down except every fifth letter, italics optional but preferred. You had a lot of time on your hands.

“You can watch us practice, though, maybe. And help out? You used to be the best at choreography,” Jungkook says with a grin, blindsiding you with his request.

“I’d love that!” Jimin responds, and you feel a thrill at how he doesn’t fake modesty, at the hint of cockiness that comes through in his voice.

Perhaps it’s the fact that Jungkook's just woken and the bruise on his forehead is only slightly lessening, or maybe that Yoongi’s right there, still waiting to find out if he should close up shop now or not and that he’s always been perceptive, but you force yourself to calm down. So what if Jimin watches you dance? You both went for class together for years. No biggie. Not worth giving your roommate another bruise.

“Can you dance now? Or do you want to just go home and continue tomorrow?” you ask, clutching at straws.

“I think I can dance, I feel fine. Fruit juice was great,” Jungkook says, making to get up.

“Yeah, Jennie got it from one of those organic stores she shops in,” Yoongi replies, nasty turtle dove making a reappearance.

You’re about to gag, or very pointedly look away, but before you can so much as decide on your method of conveying disgust, Jungkook, in the process of standing up, folds in on himself, knees buckling as he lets out a pained grunt. You, Jimin and Yoongi act on impulse, arms jerking out and catching him before he can fall, eyes wide with surprise and concern.

He settles back in his previous position and gingerly bends down, experimentally twisting his right ankle and hissing out a pained ‘Fuck.’

“I think it’s a sprain,” he winces, slowly moving it forward until another distressed flinch casts a shadow over his face.

Jimin bites his lip worriedly on Jungkook’s other side and you watch Yoongi help him slowly take off his shoes with a grimace.

“Y/N, there’s an ice pack in the mini fridge in my office.”

You don’t let him continue, only nodding as you swiftly rise after casting another anxious look at Jungkook, who’s looking everywhere but at his leg.

On your return, you see him lying face down on the couch, right foot propped over one arm rest as Yoongi says, “He must have fallen at a weird angle. It only seems like a sprain, but I don’t think he should dance.”

Jimin looks impressed as he watches Yoongi expertly place the ice pack in position and Jungkook huffs in simultaneous relief and disappointment.

“A million basketball injuries will do that to you,” you reply in answer to Jimin’s unasked question.

“What about the competition?” Jungkook whines.

You’re surprised to find the tinge of disappointment when you shrug and say, “We'll have to drop out. I’ll let Taemin know in class tomorrow and tell him to take us off the list.”

“But the choreography!”

Jimin steadies him as Jungkook slowly sits up, adjusting so he’s holding the ice pack, scandalised expression on his face as he looks at your drooped shoulders.

“Nothing we can do about it. Maybe we’ll try again next year.”

And then he gets that look. That expression that indicates that he’s thinking of an idea that’s good for him but sucky for you. Slowly, he swivels his head towards a confused Jimin sitting next to him before moving towards you, eyebrows scrunched, deep in thought. You can practically see the gears shifting in his head.

Warily, you ask, “Kook?”

His eyes are still narrowed and moving, but the frown slowly morphs into a small smile as he distractedly, instinctively replies to your question. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Is there...is there something on my face?” Jimin enquires, slowly backing away on the couch.

Only the cutest fucking pout I’ve ever seen in my life, your brain unhelpfully supplies.

Jungkook doesn’t directly answer, but finally begins to explain why he looks like an automated form of The Thinker, his grin slowly growing. “You guys could do it together.”

“Do what?” Jimin asks.

It, your permanently horny inner voice replies.

Out loud, you ask, “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“You guys can go for the competition together! Jimin can be your partner instead of me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t mind.”

You turn your determined, closed off face to Jimin’s calmly curious expression in astonishment.

“What?” you demand.

“I don’t mind,” he repeats, shrugging but cautious at your unexpected vehemence. “If you still want to perform and need a partner, I’d love to step in.”

Jungkook claps in glee as you continue staring, mouth opening and closing like a fish, but no sound coming out.

“Then it's settled!” he says before a shrewd expression overtakes his face, single eyebrow cocked as he looks at you with challenge in his eyes. “Unless...Y/N has objections?”

You’re caught facing the barrel of a loaded gun, Yoongi behind you, obviously already intrigued by your uncharacteristically passionate reaction, Jimin on the couch, pleasant smile playing on his face, eager with the thought of being given a chance to perform but not wanting to guilt you into anything and Jungkook, big brain Jungkook, disaster child Jungkook, waiting for you to make your decision. As soon as you see the small glint in his eyes, a niggling doubt emerges in your head about whether he’s managed to figure out your feelings before you’ve even accepted them yourself.

With an internal sigh, you plaster on a smile and reply, “Nope. No objections.”

Jungkook’s face clears, a brief flash of victory in his eyes before he beckons you closer, holding his right arm out for you to sling over your shoulder as he stands up.

Jimin gives you a satisfied grin, chuckling and taking your stupid roommate’s other arm as you nearly buckle under the weight.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Yoongi! How you and Y/N share the same blood, I’ll never know.”

Yoongi snickers, “You and me both, dude. Try not to put too much weight on your foot!”

And if you give a small pinch to the side of Jungkook’s waist where your hand is resting, that’s your business (and your satisfaction when you feel him flinch).

“Do you need any help getting him home?” Jimin asks as the three of you wait outside the building under the dark sky waiting for the cab to arrive.

You’re still reeling from the developments of the last few minutes, head terrified but heart perversely gleeful, and you don’t look directly at him when you reply, opting instead to direct your gaze at the little black dot on the map on your phone that indicates where the car is. “No, I can manage, thank you.”

Once Jungkook’s safely inside the car, Jimin doesn’t let you immediately follow suit, stopping you with a smile outside your roommate’s closed door before you can round the vehicle.

His body isn’t too close, but in your head, you run through the choreography that the two of you will be doing, and you know that that’s going to be far from true over the next two weeks.

“Hey, are you alright? You don’t have to dance with me if you don’t want to. You seemed a bit uncomfortable back there, when Kook suggested it.” He looks sheepish almost, but understanding, palm coming up to rub nervously at the back of his neck and other hand inside the pocket of his black jeans.

As he slightly rocks forward and back, you want to grab his face, bring them down to your level, look him the eye and tell him, equally stern and emotional, that he has occupied so much of your mind for the last week and that if there’s anybody here who should be unsure about this, it’s him.

You clear your throat under his light gaze before you reply, confidently as you can, “I was just thrown by the change of plans. I’d love to dance with you, honestly. I still think about that day we first met- well, met again- when you were practicing and how I’ve never seen anybody dance like that before.”

You’re as surprised by he is at the confession, immediately wanting to backtrack, but you don’t have the opportunity. A faint blush emerges on his cheeks as he looks away from your gaze, eyes crinkling in an embarrassed grin.

“Ah, Y/N,” he honest to God whines before taking a few deep calming breaths. You watch in fascination as all this unravels, drinking in this new Jimin. Fondly, before you can intercept it, the thought enters- you want to see just how many sides he has, want to experience them and revel in them.

“Thank you,” he mumbles with a small smile.

You can’t help but smile back, and the two of you are left grinning softly like a pair of fools at each other until a smart rap sounds on the window right next to you, making you startle into awareness.

Both of you turn to the car and see Jungkook peering through the glass with an expectant look on his face. ‘Are you coming?’ he mouths.

Flustered, you nod and give Jimin a small wave before going around him and entering the vehicle from the other side.

You’re too preoccupied to notice Jungkook staring at you, same shrewd look as last Saturday on his face, but when he lets out a soft ‘Ahem,’ you turn your head to look at him.

His expression is closed, and hardly clear as his face only gets illuminated passingly by the occasional streetlight, but his tone leaves no room for doubt when he says, lips quirking upwards in a small, teasing grin, “If you keep smiling like that when you’re talking to him, somebody could get the wrong idea.”

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the end of the week and you’re too tired for confrontation, or that your roommate has a sprained ankle and you don’t want to cause him any more grief, or that you’ve finally accepted the state of affairs, but you don’t resort to your knee-jerk reaction of denial.

With a small sigh, you softly reply, not making much sense when taken in context of the conversation but conveying everything that needs to be conveyed either way, “Yeah.”

He looks surprised at your response, probably expecting a huff and an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ but says nothing, just smiling at you kindly as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

“We can go to the doctor tomorrow morning and get your ankle checked, skip dance class,” you mumble as you watch the street ahead of you sideways, fingers absently fiddling with the strap of Jungkook’s bag in your lap.

He hums in reply, and you appreciate the silence, grateful that he knows you well enough to not bombard you right now.

Jimin (Do Not Interact) : Hey, this is Jimin! Park Jimin. Uhhh Chimmy Jimin. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that the shipments to the shop are a little delayed so we can practice in the backroom. It’ll be a bigger space than Yoongi's studio. I’m always here so let me know when we can start :D

You read and reread the message that was sent an hour ago, absently chewing your thumb nail.

“You do that a lot.”

“Do what?” you mumble, running through all the possibilities in your head.

Chuckling, Hoseok replies while shifting gears, “Look at your phone all worried. You’ve started a bit early today, though. And it’s still Monday. Bad weekend?”

Sighing, you reply, “Not particularly. Just...worried.”

“Anything I can help with?” he asks, patiently curious.

You flash back to ten years ago when Hoseok used to give you snacks whenever you accidentally (read: not) entered whichever room your brother and his friends were holed up in, kind, cheerful smile on his face as you shyly took whatever sweet treat you were being given that day before sprinting out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, already in awe at what you’re about to do, you tilt your phone towards him as he slows down at a signal.

He peers at the screen, looks up at you with a confused expression, and reads the message again.

“Is there something I’m missing?” he asks, as the light turns green and he starts the car again.

“First of all, why is he texting sense at 8 o' clock in the morning?”

“Y/N, have you ever considered the existence of people who enjoy waking up early?”

“Bet you’re one of them,” you huff.

He snorts before waving his hand in ‘Go on' gesture.

“Why is he sending smileys? What’s he so happy about?”

“Jesus Christ, he's just being nice, dude. How are you overthinking an emoticon? It isn’t even an emoji – are you blushing?”

“No, I’m not,” you say loudly, fighting through the unplanned flush on your face. Stupid smiley.

Your companion laughs as he sputters, “Okay, but I have a few questions myself.”

At your haughty nod after you’ve taken a few calming breaths, he continues, “Did he really think you wouldn’t remember him when you, very obviously, have a big, fat crush on him? Chimmy Jimin?”

“Stop,” you whine. In an undertone, you add, “That’s what I used to call him when we were kids. And it isn’t a crush.”

You’ve never been happier to see the office park.

“Are you going to reply?” Hobi asks, pulling into the mostly empty car park. “You know, because you’ve saved his name with ‘Do Not Interact'?”

You roll your eyes even as you know that your thumbs have been hovering over the keypad for the greater part of the last hour. “I will. Soon.”

“You literally just have to say yes or no. I’ll dictate it for you if you want. Yes Chimmy, I love you so much or No Chimmy, I love you so much.”

“Shut up,” you say, glaring at him as he laughs, thoroughly amused by himself. You both get your bags from the back, making your way into the building, text still open in your hand.

You’ve been staring at it for so long, that at first, you think you’ve imagined the green dot next to his name.

“Fuck, he's online,” you mutter in front of the lifts as Hobi giggles at your worried expression.

“Dude, just say yes or no, it isn’t a big deal.”

With a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, you slowly begin to type.

Sure, that’s a great idea! How does 6 PM today evening work for you?

“Perfect,” Hobi says, holding up three fingers in an OK sign when you tilt your screen towards him for approval.

“Smiley face?” you tentatively ask.

“It'd be accurate, you’re definitely happy."

You settle for a :) so it’s low-key before hitting send and immediately shoving your phone into your pocket, shaking your head to clear it for work.

“At the rate you’re going, you’ll have no nail left.”

“I am not entirely opposed to the idea.”

From the back of the car, Jungkook lets out a disgusted ‘Ew' even as he continues scrolling through his phone, absently biting his own index nail.

“Are you excited?”

“To get this over with? Yeah.”

Jungkook scoffs from the back. “There’s that charming Y/N optimism.”

“Don’t fight, children,” Hyejin says pacifyingly from her place behind the wheel. “We can tease her when she’s being a mess around Jimin.”

You scowl but have no comeback, because you can’t find the lie. In the backseat, Jungkook rubs his hands together like an evil fly.

“If I didn’t know that you’re perfectly capable of doing something as stupid as walking into a pole, I would’ve thought you set this up on purpose.”

He looks wounded at your comment, holding up a dramatic hand to place over his heart.

“We're here!” Hyejin calls out before any more confrontation happens, pulling up next to the curb.

“Thanks for coming along,” you sigh as you unbuckle your seatbelt, opting to leave your office bag in the car and only carrying your phone and water bottle.

Before Hyejin can reply, because obviously, the gratitude was aimed at her, Jungkook says, “No problem!”

You’re sure to gently jostle him a little as you loop his arm over your shoulder, helping him out of the car as you deadpan, “I was talking about Hyejin, fool. You practically begged to come along.”

He clicks his tongue in admonishment. “Is that any way to treat your injured best friend? After everything I’ve done for you?”

The eye roll is instinctive, but the banter serves to loosen you up a bit, weirdly calming down the butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook staying at home the entire day and not being allowed to work out means a lot of unspent energy, and you have no doubt that he’s going to be in full exuberance for the rest of the evening, at least until the painkillers kick in. You? You’d rather be anywhere but here, waiting for Hyejin to lock the car outside The VMin Experience at 5:55 PM, straight from work for dance practice with your...friend.

And if you’d prefer to spend your utopian free time scrolling through said friend's Instagram feed, that’s between you and God and your phone battery percentage.

“No thanks needed, I’m very excited to observe your reactions now that I have some background information,” Hyejin says gaily, sharing a beaming grin with Jungkook.

She pushes open the door as you let out a long, drawn out sigh and resist the urge to drop your roommate’s ass then and there when he theatrically whispers, “Happy face, Y/N. Happy face.”

                           ________________________________

“You good?” Jimin asks, only faintly panting, a single drop of sweat running down the side of his neck as he watches you, your hands clutching at the slowly forming stitch on your hip.

“Pe- Peachy,” you reply with a weak smile, gulping for air. Your legs feel like they’re gonna give out at any moment and even with the central cooling in the room, you could really go for an ice bath.

You bend at the waist, bracing your palms on your slightly bent knees. A bottle of water appears in your line of vision and you look up to see a kindly grinning Jimin.

“Let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes,” he says, giving you a short, and what is probably meant to be comforting, pat on your back, but only serves to drag out the ongoing process of your heart calming down.

You’d think, after nearly an hour and a half of having his hands on your waist, fingers tracing your neck, palms closing around yours and the both of you moving together, you wouldn’t continue having all these physical reactions to a mere skim of skin over your clothed spine, but when has your body ever had a logical response to Jimin’s presence in the last few weeks?

Your breath slows down as you walk slowly around the room, looking at Jimin perfecting a step out of the corner of your eye. In the corner, Hyejin's subconsciously mirroring the dance as she shoots you a grin and a thumbs up. Your eyes sluggishly move to Jungkook, who looks like his painkillers have just kicked in, his eyes fighting to stay open even as he has an amused smile on his face.

The first thirty minutes had consisted of Jungkook teaching Jimin his steps with you as a prop, which basically meant you were passed back and forth as Jungkook explained as well as he could on one leg and Jimin caught on incredibly fast. It had been shockingly simple to dance with him, to let your body move with his and dip and soar step after step as he flawlessly executed the movements after watching Jungkook just once or twice.

You had nearly gotten caught staring at the furrow in his eyebrow as he concentrated, a similar pout on your lips as you yearned to lean up and smooth it out, but Jungkook had been too preoccupied to comment and you gave yourself a good, strong pep talk to focus.

And now it’s nearing 8 PM and you’ve just completed the first proper run-through, your body burning and your nerves hyper aware but so satisfied at the completion of a smooth rehearsal. In some weird, twisted way, it’s easy to not pay attention to the nervous, frazzled, constantly overthinking voices about Jimin in your head when you’re dancing with him.

Feeling a little calmer, you turn back around while gulping some water and see Jimin gathering his hair off his forehead and tying it up in a small ponytail, shorter strands falling out and hanging as wisps.

“Ready?” he asks with a grin, hand held out in your direction when he sees that you’re looking at him.

You swallow with difficulty and try not to be too transparent about the effect this new hairstyle is having on you as you muster a smile and nod, placing your palm in his, fingers only twitching slightly.

Hyejin stifles a short giggle, morphing it into a cough as you shoot her a sharp look before she restarts the track on the phone.

The piano intro begins, build up in the song already evident as Jimin pulls you close for the start position. You let the music wash over you, anchoring yourself in the sound and running through the steps in your head. Steeling your nerves, you meet Jimin’s eyes as you straighten your back, finding them twinkling in anticipation and unwavering concentration, gaze boring deep into yours as you both begin the routine again.

The rain is starting to come down heavier as you huddle close to the wall of the security cabin, trying to fit as much of your body as you can under the awning. Your laptop bag is secure in your arms as you use it to cover your chest, trying to receive some kind of warmth against the wind that’s picking up pace.

With a sigh, you unlock your phone for the fifth time in two minutes, checking if Tae’s given you his ETA. On seeing no new messages or missed calls, you close it again and let out a low groan.

A particularly strong gust of wind makes you shiver as you idly curse at your own stupidity for not checking the time while debugging the latest code you had been assigned and ending up leaving this late. If Hobi had come to the office today, he would have made sure you left on time, probably annoyed you into it as he played his stupid, TikTok songs playlist next to your desk until you agreed.

But he’s sick and you had spent twenty minutes sitting through awfully cheery morning radio in your Uber in the morning, too scared to request the driver to change it. And now, you’re standing outside the office building in the dark, waiting for Tae to come pick you up because no cabs are available.

The last message on your phone from him reads leaving in five! and that was sent fifteen minutes ago. You’re too caught up in trying to calculate what that means, time and math-wise, that you only realise that your boss’s car has drawn to a stop in front of you when the passenger seat window is rolled down and her concerned face appears, leaning over from behind the wheel.

You immediately straighten up from the wall, absently shivering against the droplets that hit your face and arms as you politely smile. Apparently, you weren’t the last one to leave.

“Get in!” she shouts to be heard over the sound of the rain, and at this point, you’re too cold and miserable to disobey. You transfer your bag and phone to one hand, pulling the door open and sliding in as gracefully as you can when your eyes are shut and your head is ducked to avoid the rain you’re momentarily exposed to. Which isn’t very graceful at all.

You nearly moan at the warmth inside the car, immediately feeling yourself getting less cranky.

“How come you’re leaving so late?” Jennie asks, moving the car so she can stop it against the curb before turning up the heat a little more when she notices you slightly shivering still.

“I was debugging something and lost track of time,” you say with a wince.

She nods in understanding, the light of the streetlamp casting a shine on her long, straight black hair as she pushes her glasses up.

“You have a ride back home? I noticed that you and Hoseok carpool but he didn’t come in to work today.”

“Yeah, my friend’s coming to pick me up. He should be here…sometime soon, hopefully.”

“I’ll wait with you,” she says. “I don’t want you falling sick, too.”

You accept with a grateful nod, more than willing to spend the next few minutes inside here rather than out in the rain.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s a Thursday evening (night) and you’re going through the crushing, midweek existential crisis you’re prey to; or that the rain outside is getting heavier, small flashes of lightning indicating a larger incoming storm and you’re glad to have some kind of shelter; or maybe even that there’s a satisfying sort of soreness to your limbs from the now regular dancing, not painful but just present enough for you to feel content that you’ve done something, but the regular awkwardness seems practically non-existent.

Jennie doesn’t say anything, just quietly observes the rain from her seat, placid smile on her face like she’s been sheltering cold, helpless interns since she was four years old, and you feel no inclination to break the comforting silence, preferring to rub your palms in front of the heater vents, letting them warm up.

Until your phone begins to vibrate on your lap, caller ID reading Tae.

Eagerly, you accept the call, putting the phone to your ear. As fun as hiding out in your boss's car is, nothing sounds better than your bed and some pillows and a warm blanket.

“Talk to me,” you say immediately, anticipating good news.

There’s static for a while and you hear some talking in the background, something about boxes and back rooms before Tae's voice comes clear.

“There’s been a change of plans,” he starts, and you note with slight concern that there’s no sound of a running engine or rain on his end.

Warily, you ask, “What do you mean?”

A door closes in the background and now you can hear him easier, like he’s gone to a quiet place.

“A shipment got delivered early and since it was in my name, I couldn’t leave the shop.”

You feel your heart sink at his words, knowing from prior experience that it could take up to an hour for him to make it. In the suddenly deafening quiet of the car, his tinny voice through your phone rings clearly and you have no doubt Jennie heard. To her credit, she pretends to have not been paying attention, only continuing to look out of the window.

“Can you still make it?” you ask, cursing the day you and Jungkook decided to buy that washing machine that ate into your savings so much that you haven’t been able to purchase your own car.

He makes a soothing hum before replying, slowly and then all at once, “No, but Jimin is coming to get you and he should be there in five minutes tops.”

And now, in a rush, you’re seized up, unable to say anything except a tiny ‘Okay,’ in a voice that suggests that it isn’t really okay at all, if Tae's low chuckle is anything to go by.

It’s all fun and games having that rose-tinted feeling of liking somebody and being able to spend time with them and really embracing those giddy butterflies in your stomach every time you’re both in the same room, but when push comes to shove and you have to spend an extended period of time alone together without the buffer of music and the purpose of dance, you can think of few things more intimidating.

At your small tone, Tae replies, putting you more on edge, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to engage, he's pretty tired too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t mind engaging with him,” you respond, probably too defensive to seem convincing and too rushed to mask your knee-jerk panicked reaction.

He doesn’t give you a straight answer, and even though you can’t see him, you know his palm is held up in a pacifying gesture. “I’m just saying, when you like somebody, you tend to avoid one-on-one interaction with them which isn’t exactly conducive for fostering romance.”

“Fucking hell, does everybody know?” you groan as your head hits the back of the seat with a dull thud, momentarily forgetting about where you are and whom you’re with.

“Everybody except Jimin!” Tae replies cheerfully. In the background, you hear somebody asking for him.

You have no valid reply, only uttering a soft ‘Okay, bye,’ when Tae signs off by saying, “Okay, I have to go now. He’s coming in my car and should be there soon. Text me when you get home!”

Hanging up, you sigh, turning around to face Jennie who’s looking at you with a concerned expression.

“All good?”

Resisting the urge to bite your fingernails as you’re wont to do in high pressure, nervously anticipatory situations like this, you muster a weak smile and reply, “Yeah, everything’s fine. He should be here in a bit.”

She nods, accepting your half-baked response without question.

At that moment, through the sheets of rain, you see a familiar silver sedan pulling up on the opposite side of the road. Squinting, you read the number plate, and once you’ve deduced that it is, in fact, Tae's, you turn to Jennie and say, “That’s him. Thank you for waiting with me.”

She waves away your gratitude with a small smile, but stops you when you’re about to push open the door with a clearing of her throat.

Gentle but insistently, she slowly says, “From one woman to another, if you want something, you should go for it. Don’t hang around being scared or waiting for something to happen.”

So she did hear after all.

You don’t know what to make of it, don’t have any reply to her statement that won’t sound silly, can’t figure out a way to convey that yes, you agree with her one hundred percent, but this situation is different.

Your phone vibrates and you see the caller ID.

Jimin (Interact Only For Practice)

The headlights in the car opposite are blinking on and off, probably to signal to you that he’s arrived in case you don’t pick up your phone and you’re saved the bother of a reply by Jennie smiling kindly at your half-pleading half-flabbergasted expression and saying, “He's waiting for you."

With a gulp, you can do nothing but nod and stutter out another ‘Th-Thanks,’ before you push the door open and jog to the other side of the road towards your ride.

                                   _____________________________

“Here, I thought you might need this.”

There’s a sweatshirt placed on your lap, something soft, warm and as far as you can make out in the dim lighting of the car, black.

He does look tired, faint bags under his eyes that are missing their regular sparkle. He gives you a small smile, though, as he jerks his head in the direction of the fabric he’s set down on your thighs.

“You look cold. Do you want me to turn up the heat?” he asks, slightly husky voice, all kindness. You might not be particularly fond of water at the moment, given that it’s dripping from your hair and making your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin, but given the chance, you’d drown in his voice right now.

“No, it’s perfect. Thanks for coming,” you reply, looking away under the pretense of tugging the hoodie over your head, unable to stare at him without needing to combust any longer.

It isn’t too big for you, just hanging a little bit off of your frame, but it engulfs you perfectly, immediately making you feel cozy and warm.

He starts the car, the bracelets on his arm jiggling lightly as he pushes it into gear. “No problem, really. I don’t mind helping out. Especially if it means you don’t end up staying in the rain and catching a cold.”

An easy smile accompanies his words, and you can only mumble something unintelligible in response, simultaneously flattered, shy and annoyed that you’re feeling.

A comfortable silence settles for an indeterminate period of time. It can’t be more than five minutes, but it feels like much longer before you muster up enough courage to ask, “How are things going at the shop? Everything running on schedule?”

“Yeah, more or less. Hectic, though. Nobody told us it would be this much work.”

There’s no bite in his words, just a mix of passive regret and satisfaction at taking up such a large project and seeing it go through.

“I can tell,” you reply, trying to be supportive. “Tae doesn’t send me as many cat videos as he used to anymore.”

The laugh that you get in response puts angels to shame, and you’re not sure you quite manage to keep the sappy fondness out of your expression when you take in the more relaxed droop in his shoulders and the smoothening of his face, at least a fraction of his regular happiness making a return.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he starts, the atmosphere in the car a little lighter and easier now, thanks to your stellar comedic timing.

“About Tae's cat videos?”

He shoots you a grin as he replies teasingly, “Maybe later. I was talking about the store opening.”

“Has there been a change of date? Last I checked, it was scheduled for Friday, the 17th.”

“It still is. But Boom is on the 18th, so any last minute run-throughs we'll have to get done in the next six days.”

You nod, thoughtfully. “I think we can make that work. We’re in a pretty good position.”

“We work well together,” he says, agreeing, probably not realising that his statement has just sent every nerve ending you have on high alert, shocking you out of that false sense of security you’ve been cocooned in for most of the conversation so far.

You mumble a slow ‘Yeah,’ as he absentmindedly pulls into your road, slowing down as he reaches the apartment.

Whatever ease you were feeling earlier has flown out the window, and now you want nothing more than to leave.

“Thanks for the ride! Oh, let me give you your hoodie bac-"

“Keep it.”

You look up from his hand atop yours, stilling your fingers in their momentarily abandoned mission at the side of your hip, his palm settling atop your fisted knuckles that have fabric twisted in them.

It’s like time’s paused as you see his kind smile, feel the warmth of his hand and the chill of the tips of his fingers that are almost cupping yours.

Swallowing when he makes no attempt to move them, just looking at you half-warning and half-gentle, like he’s daring you to return his sweatshirt when you’re still cold and wet and obviously need it for the walk up to the front door, you softly ask, partly whispering, though you’re not sure why, “Are you sure?”

He doesn’t break eye contact, just gently giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, fingers curling around the wheel once more as he replies, “Yeah, you can return it at our next practice session.”

“Okay,” you mumble, nodding unconsciously and lifting your bag from the floor of the car as if in a dream, waving goodbye hazily until you’re taking the stairs up to your floor.

You unlock the door, and the moment it shuts behind you, you’re turning around and letting your body sag against it, slumped with your bag in one hand and the keys limp in the other.

You distantly hear Jungkook calling out from the living room, his voice getting louder as he limps towards you.

“Y/N, is that you?”

You don’t have it in you to reply, only grunting as you face his approaching form absently.

“Whose jacket is that?”

Fuck.

“Wow.”

You nod, mouth open as you stop next to a similarly gaping Jungkook, frozen in front of the newly unveiled storefront.

The sound of your cab driving away goes unnoticed as you both take in the transformation from the last time you had been here, nearly a week ago.

Since the shop had finally gotten too crowded with items and display pieces, and the storeroom actually had things to be stored, you and Jimin had moved your practices back to your living room with all the furniture (a grand total of one couch and a coffee table) pushed right up to the wall. Consequentially, you haven’t seen the shop in little more than a week.

The cheap plastic board that had been there earlier is now a sleek black and silver plaque with The VMin Experience written on it in that clean, classy, elongated font. From the outside, the freshly wiped glass windows give a direct view into lit up display mannequins clothed in designs. Even at ten in the morning, everything looks sophisticated and chic. There’s a small signboard hanging from the door handle that reads ‘OPENING TODAY!’ right above the PULL sticker.

“Do you think Tae will give us a discount?” you ask, as you take in the pastel pink blazer that the mannequin on the right is wearing.

You aren’t even remotely surprised when your roommate slash the devil incarnate nudges you in the ribs with his elbow and says, grin evident in his voice even if you aren’t looking at him, “I think you’ll have better luck with Jimin.”

After Jimin had dropped you off that night and you had stumbled up to the apartment all in a tizzy, Jungkook had questioned you extensively and didn’t even have the gall to hide his amusement at your retelling. Since then, he’s taken to dropping some very unsubtle hints like leaving post-its around the house with winky faces, which is very unsettling, and always making his SIMS characters kiss whenever you happen to be around.

Mercifully, he hadn’t been too unsufferable whenever Jimin came over for practice, probably realising that it was in his best interests to not antagonise you that much.

And you? You’ve been avoiding everything that even vaguely resembles romantic emotion as staunchly and stubbornly as a mule. God and your phone battery and your browser history (that includes but is not limited to Google searches like crush songs and how to stop thinking, and multiple BuzzFeed articles about zodiac compatibility and quizzes along the general lines of Tell Us Your Favourite Disney Movies And We’ll Tell You If Your Crush Likes You Back, combined with excessive usage of your notes app) might disagree, but that’s nobody’s business.

Especially not Jungkook’s, even if he did hear you singing bubble pop in the shower once.

“After you,” he says, completely ignoring your eye roll and letting you go in front of him, more to avoid the barrage of instructions that you’re both going to be on the receiving end of the moment you step into the store, than any real goodness of his heart.

You flick him half-heartedly on the arm before pulling the door open, immediately assaulted by the smell of fresh items and air conditioning. And something like lavender?

“Oh, good, you’re both here. Could you move that rack a bit to the left?”

You and Jungkook just exchange a short, amused look before obediently moving to opposite sides of the indicated shelf with hangers of clothes and moving it, as directed, a bit to the left.

Taehyung looks uncharacteristically nervous, his usually impeccably trim nails bitten at the edges and a frazzled look on his regularly smooth, bored face, and when the two of you turn to him, ready to receive more directions, he’s in the middle of trying to shift a stand that’s very clearly bolted to the floor.

“Uh, Tae? All good there, buddy?”

You know Jungkook’s talking in that corny voice, calling his friend the superior term of platonic endearment to get him to crack a grin, and it’s worked in the past, but all Tae does now is grunt as he tries harder to push the stubborn stand.

He’s dressed casually in a loose, black and gold button-up shirt tucked into tight, black pants, looking for all he’s worth like a rich patron of a modern art museum or a front row invitee to a global fashion week, but under the lights and with the fancy clothes all around and the sheer aura of expensiveness radiating from every surface of the shop, he fits right in. Apart from the annoyed curl of his lips as he continues his attempt to move a non-budging, nailed down shelf.

An irresistible force against an immovable object, if you will.

Slowly, you and Jungkook approach him, like you’re about to pacify a tantrum throwing toddler.

Hesitantly, you place a palm on his tense shoulder, right as he realises that the stand is attached and lets out an anguished groan.

“Is something wrong?” you ask slowly, when he makes no move to shake your hand off.

He exhales harshly, jaw clenched as he gathers himself before taking a deep breath in.

The verbal reply to your question comes from behind all of you, as Jimin enters the main shop floor from the back room, partway through rolling up the full-length sleeves of his shirt. Your throat goes dry as you take in his formal pants, distantly aware that Taehyung is wearing literally the same thing but had hardly evoked more than a vague sense of appreciation from you.

“He’s been like this all morning,” Jimin says, continuing to make his way closer, looking up for just a second to shoot an amused smile before he goes back to concentrating on rolling his sleeve neatly with one hand.

You don’t know what possesses you to do it, but as you’re looking at his arms twist in his struggle to make it look artfully messy, you blurt out, “Do you need help?”

He gratefully nods, giving up and extending his right arm out to you as he continues, “He wants, and I quote, everything to be so perfect that it puts Hallmark films to shame.”

Behind you, you hear Jungkook snort and reply, “There’s nothing perfect about Hallmark films.”

The sounds of Tae and Kook arguing behind you fade into background noise as you focus on undoing what Jimin’s done so far. You’ve just about finished, tugging out a flap from the fold so it doesn’t look quite so formal and pulling away, when your wrist is caught in a gentle grip.

As studiously as you’ve avoided looking at him directly so far, you can’t stop your gaze from shooting up to his in surprise, breath catching as he smiles at you, a curious mixture of nervousness and anticipation in his eyes.

Dancing together is different from...whatever this is, intense and charged as neither of you look away. The other two have moved towards the back of the shop to prematurely open a champagne bottle for Tae's nerves, but you’re not sure you would have noticed them even if they were still bickering in the vicinity.

He loosens his grip on your hand but doesn’t let go, slightly bending as he says, “Thank you.”

You nod, not trusting your voice and just giving a smile before you gently detach yourself from him, immediately moving towards Jungkook who’s holding out a champagne glass toward you, beckoning you both to participate in the entrepreneurially sanctioned daytime drinking.

As you’re lifting your glass, letting it clink against the others and resolutely not making eye contact with Jimin who’s standing directly opposite you, his cheerful voice joining in the chorus of ‘To paying off student loans!’, your heart and head race a mile a minute.

What does it all mean?

                                   _____________________________

“So he thanked you.”

Huffing, you impatiently repeat to Hyejin's simultaneously confused and unimpressed face, “No, he thanked me.”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

You groan in frustration, letting your arms flop against your sides in abandon as you lean against the side of the closed back room that the two of you have been conversing in for the last ten minutes, ever since you caught sight of her entering the shop and dragged her back right after she congratulated the new business owners.

She had whined a bit about not getting the fancy champagne flute, but once the word ‘Jimin’ had left your mouth, she became mighty compliant.

“I think I’m missing something here. You’re losing your mind in the store room on the opening day of your friends’ shop at 12 PM because...” she trails off, looking at you expectantly with an arched eyebrow.

Something breaks inside you and the next thing you know, you’re venting out in a single breath, nearly tripping over your words, “Because I like Jimin and I think he likes me too, but I’m too scared to say anything or bring it up in case I’m wrong and also, I sort of really want it to be true but I don’t know and I’m scared and I would very much like everything to go back to when this stupid dance competition didn’t exist, because now I keep thinking about ways to spend time with him after tomorrow and I’m embarrassed and feelings suck.”

You’re gasping by the end of it, like you’ve just run a marathon with a cash prize for first place. If you weren’t somehow feeling simultaneously lighter and more exposed, you’d be amused at Hyejin’s expression, but all you can muster is a weak sort of shrug to mask any awkwardness you might be feeling.

She looks like she’s just been slapped across the face with a wet fish, eyes wide and mouth open, but before she can say anything, the door to the left opens and Jungkook walks in, a half-full champagne glass in his hand.

He takes in Hyejin’s expression and your defensive stance that’s combined with the worried furrow of your eyebrows before he slowly says, “I just came here to escape from Yoongi who keeps asking me where his Tupperware is and I’m too scared to tell him I lost it, but there’s a really weird energy in here right now.”

“Jimin thanked Y/N,” Hyejin unhelpfully supplies, looking like she’s slowly regaining her bearings after your emotional outburst.

Jungkook's eyes narrow in confusion as his head tilts, lips pursed. “I feel like there’s more to that story, but I’m not gonna hear any of it.”

You sigh, weight of everything crashing into you as you sit down on the floor cross-legged, staring unseeing at the opposite wall.

At your actions, Jungkook’s eyebrows crease in concern, but his confusion is abundantly evident when he says, “I’m, uh, sure you can tell Jimin not to thank you again if it makes you this sad. Will some champagne make you feel better?”

“Yes, please,” you say, nodding despondently as you accept the glass from him, after which he sits down next to you, twiddling his thumbs, probably wondering why he offered.

For about a minute, the two of you sit there, you completely zoned out, dissociating to cope with the reality of the situation as you take little sips and Jungkook humming something vague, his legs now stretched out in front of him.

You nearly forget that Hyejin’s even in the room until your glass is snatched from your affronted grip and you’re looking up accusingly at her exasperated face.

“Up,” she says shortly, taking one of your hands in hers and pulling you. You have no choice but to follow through, landing shakily and ruefully watching her finish off what’s left of the champagne before she hands the glass to an entertained Jungkook and places both her palms firmly on your shoulders.

Oh no.

“I’m going to tell you something, and you might not like it, but you have to hear it anyway, okay?”

You resist the urge to salute, nodding as you agree. Not that you have an option. You’ve seen Hyejin in intervention mode before, and resisting is like trying to stop a fire from burning.

“You. Are. Incredibly. Stupid.”

Your mouth drops in offense, and you make to defend yourself, but before you can say anything, from the floor, Jungkook cheers, “I knew there was something I missed. What happened?”

Not taking her eyes off of you, Hyejin replies, “Y/N likes Jimin and she thinks he likes her and she’s having a crisis.”

You have hope for a moment, when your trusty roommate scoffs behind you, and you vow to get him something good for his birthday this year, but just as you’re grinning all satisfied at Hyejin, he says, “Of course he likes her. Pfft. That was never the question.”

Coal. He’s getting coal and it won’t even be gift wrapped.

At your shocked expression, he slowly stands up, looking confused as he asks, “Did you...did you not realise?”

Near-hysterical, you reply, turning to face him fully, “No? How was I supposed to realise?”

Jungkook’s looking at you like you’ve grown a third head, like you’re the one who’s just said something completely bizarre, which is absolutely untrue.

“Wait, what did you think her crisis was about?” Hyejin asks, infuriatingly calm at this revelation and completely ignoring the fact that your roommate is spouting enough shit to fill a truck.

“Feelings? In general? I thought she knew about Jimin liking her. I thought you knew about Jimin liking you!”

You throw your arms up in a gesture of annoyance as you hiss, half-frustrated and half-panicking, “How was I supposed to know? Nobody tells me these things!”

“Dude, he's been flirting with you for weeks.”

“No, he has not. You’re wrong. Hyejin, tell him he’s wrong.”

But to your great betrayal, Hyejin doesn’t immediately contest the sheer stupidity of the statement. She gets that look you’re constantly wary of. A ‘hmm, you might have a point there,’ look.

“Actually,” she slowly begins. “Now I think about it, he might be right.”

You groan in frustration as Jungkook continues in the same voice, like he’s still bewildered that you haven’t picked up on any flirty, non-existent signs.

“He gave you his jacket and let you keep it for, like, a week? And he wouldn’t stop looking at you during the photoshoot? And he agreed to dance with you immediately, no questions asked. And don’t even get me started on that evening with the super intense eye contact outside Yoongi's studio. And he agreed to come pick you up in the rain at ass o' clock even when his shop was opening in a week and he was neck deep in work with no complaint, from what I heard. What part of this isn’t registering as ‘I want to hold your hand non-platonically' to you?”

You open and close your mouth, speechless. More out of formality, to put up a fight because weary fear and wary hope makes one do and say stupid things, you softly mutter, “He was just being nice,” but you’ll be the first to admit that there’s more than a tinge of doubt in your voice now.

Hyejin sighs, looking at you kindly as she says, all too knowingly, “I know you’re going to overthink this. But it really, really isn’t a big deal.”

“But what do I do?” you ask, desperation thinly veiled in your voice.

“Nothing, if that’s what you want. Or you could ask him out. Or you could wait for him to ask you out.”

Jungkook nods insistently next to her. “It’s all good, dude.”

Stellar contributor, that one.

Taking a deep breath in and letting it out with a whoosh, you look back at their expectant faces, trepidation in your eyes.

“First, I’d like a glass of champagne.”

The light that enters through the crack in your curtains annoys you, but not enough to make you get up and block it. Your phone is on silent, and for once, you don’t feel the constant, compulsive need to check it.

You don’t feel the need to do anything, really. Here, starfished on your bed, staring blank at the white ceiling is a good place to be. Optimum zoning out position. You’ve gotten so tuned to the sound of the clock on the wall, that you’re certain your heart is now beating in the same rhythm, and the numbness in your foot has been there for so long, you don’t remember who you were before it.

After the...talk in the storeroom yesterday, you wish you could say that your first order of business (after some liquid courage) was to walk right up to Jimin and give it to him straight, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

You had avoided him like the plague, preferring to catch up with Yoongi and hide out in the dressing room armed with clothes you can only afford in your dreams. To top it all, you also had to deal with all this new information and suddenly, you were noticing a lot of interesting things. You’d catch Jimin looking at you at odd moments, and he’d look away after shooting you a small smile that you physically couldn’t not return. He had come over all the way from the other end of the shop to ask you if you wanted another glass of champagne (you had declined), and there were fingers brushing against your shoulder, winks thrown across the room whenever eye contact was made and all of a sudden, you were consumed by this overwhelming feeling of stupidity, all of Jungkook’s points becoming more and more valid with every passing moment.

So, you did what any sane person would do. After congratulating them, and having an incredibly brief conversation with him about the final plan for the competition, you had left (after counting and comparing the amount of time he spent on his hugs with different people, and coming to the conclusion that you got two seconds extra).

You had refused to speak to Jungkook about anything even in the vicinity of the ballpark of whatever you were thinking about on the cab ride back, shovelled in an early dinner, gone straight up to your room and begun to create a definitive flowchart about possible outcomes.

It had been of no help whatsoever, and had only led to you thinking even more until you finally gave up on the project, paper landing on your bed with a comically sad finality, probably still there, lying crumpled under all the pillows.

You had flopped onto your bed, stared at the ceiling until your eyes could stay open no longer, only to wake up to your alarm at 7 AM with the same train of thought in your head continuing where it had left off.

Cut to now, two hours later. You can see your packed bag near the closed door. Jungkook’s knocked twice already, asking if you want breakfast before your big show and you’ve declined both times. You’re already showered and dressed, and both activities were a sort of background noise to the insofar ceaseless thinking in your head.

But now, you’re all thought out. You’re tired godammit, and you know that you’ve spiralled enough for a thousand exam seasons for there to still be some hope that rationality will prevail and a conclusion based on facts can be hit upon. No, you’re done thinking.

It’s time to listen to Kim Jennie, 28, Head of Product Development. No time for being scared. And maybe some advice that’s less daunting and closer to the kind of thing you can vibe without wanting to puke at the thought of, Hyejin’s ‘It isn’t such a big deal.’

Despite the sudden clarity and at least half-way confidence in your constitution, your body’s still playing catch up, and your movements are sluggish as you sit up, coming face to face with your reflection in the mirror. There’s that trepidation that you’re all too aware of in your eyes, but you brush it aside. You’ve got the power of your boss and your friend on your side. And once you tell Jungkook your plan, the moment you figure it out yourself, you’ll have anime too.

You give your reflection one final, determined nod before standing up and collecting your phone and bag. You decide to hold off on opening the curtains just yet. No need to get ahead of yourself. Maybe when you get back. After your fate’s been decided.

Your notifications range from well wishes (Yoongi: Don’t trip like you did during that performance in fifth grade.) to a compilation of cat videos (Tae: to make up for the lack over the last few weeks :D), but the message that your eyes are drawn to is from the man himself.

Jimin (Maybe Interact Sometimes): I’m excited! Let’s kill it!

Unbidden, a smile grows on your face, small at first before slowly growing until you’re beaming at your phone. The familiar pre-performance anticipation settles deep in your bones, and combined with your recently acquired confidence and the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach over the last month or so, it’s a deadly mix.

Feeling heady, you reply with some exclamation points and lock your phone, toning down the grin on your face so your roommate doesn’t think you’ve finally crossed the bend before pushing the door open.

Jungkook’s in the kitchen, sitting over a bowl of cereal, eyes skimming through the newspaper that he’s holding up with one hand. It’s a common enough occurrence, one you see nearly every morning, but it feels different today. You’ve got the enterprise of mission in you.

He notices you entering and opens his mouth to say something, but stops short. You catch sight of your reflection in the glass window behind him, and see that the grin, if not entirely blinding, is still a drastic change from your usual morning grumpiness that Jungkook has the pleasure of poking at every day.

Tentatively, he asks, rather than says, “Good morning?”

Dropping your bag, you make your way to the fridge to get some milk to fix up your own cereal as you reply, cheeriness coming through in your voice even as you try to keep it neutral, “Morning!”

You can feel his quizzical gaze on your back, and he makes no pretense of hiding it when you sit down opposite him, bowl set in front of you.

“Are you done with the newspaper?” you ask, pretending to not notice his staring, absently tapping your spoon against the side of the table as you swallow a mouthful.

He looks confused as he replies, “Am I done with – uh, yeah, here.”

You accept it with a smile and a ‘Thank you!’ before spreading it out on the table in front of you, bowl in one hand, spoon in the other as you hunch over to read.

It only takes a few seconds for Jungkook to break the silence. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, peachy. Excited about the competition!”

You look up at the fag end of your sentence, just in time to catch his deeply mistrusting gaze.

“Nervous?” he asks, like a detective looking for a lead.

You direct your gaze back to the editorial page as you shake your head and respond simply, “Nope.”

That’s a blatant lie, and you’re sure that as soon as ten minutes from now, you’re going to start realising the gravity of the situation (prize money is a powerful incentive), but that bridge hasn’t even been built yet, leave alone reached.

There’s silence for a while, you reading the paper while eating your cereal and Jungkook looking at you shrewdly, like he’s trying to read your mind and figure out how you’ve made a complete 180 from yesterday.

When you deem the time right, you say matter-of-factly, “Might ask Jimin out today.”

It’s quite unfortunate that you aren’t looking up when you utter those words. Jungkook’s in the middle of a sip of coffee, and it takes a minute for him to stop choking and sputtering.

“You what?”

“Might ask Jimin out today,” you repeat with a shrug, folding the paper after finishing the comics section and directing your gaze at his startled face.

He narrows his eyes, scepticism in his voice as he asks, “What do you mean you might ask Jimin out today?”

“For somebody who’s a journalist and about to be a published author, you’re having an awfully hard time comprehending words, aren’t you?”

He groans in annoyance as you smile pleasantly, enjoying the overall effect of this conversation.

Gathering himself, he slowly enquires, “So you just woke up today morning and decided that you’re going to do this?”

“Yep,” you reply, popping the p.

He scrutinises you carefully, looking for traces of bullshit. Finding none, he slowly begins to smile. And then you’re smiling. And then he’s smiling wider, and now you’re both grinning at each other like a pair of fools. If anybody were to walk into the kitchen now, they’d take one look before turning around and marching right back out.

Jungkook lets out a small giggle, partly in residual disbelief and partly in excitement, and your nervousness and anticipation manifests in the same way.

“When are you going to do it?” he asks, eyes twinkling as he stifles his laughter.

“No idea,” you reply, standing up with your bowl and making your way to the sink with him in tow.

“You mean you haven’t thought this to death and made a timeline down to the millisecond about how your plan’s going to unfold? I’m shocked.”

There’s no bite in his words, though, and you merely bump him on the side as you wash your bowl, him drying his next to you. “I’m tired of thinking. Time to get shit done.”

A pause as Jungkook whoops in support, and then you’re asking, “Is this a terrible idea? Should I not do this today? What if I screw up while dancing?”

You don’t know where the sudden uncertainty is coming from. Maybe everything’s finally catching up to you, but abruptly, you need some reassurance that you aren’t in over your head, that you aren’t going to fuck up.

“None of that now,” Jungkook says bossily, drying his hands and placing his palms on your shoulders, turning you so you’re facing him. “You’ve got a cash prize to win and a crush to ask out. No time for being scared and mopey. You know why? ‘Cause you’re a lean, mean singing machine.”

“I’m not lean.”

“Mean singing machine.”

“I’m actually quite nice, I think.”

“Singing machine.”

“This is a dance competition.”

He huffs in annoyance, but there’s a glint of relief in his eyes at your return to admittedly uncharacteristic optimism.

“Phineas and Ferb quotes shouldn’t be adapted,” he staunchly says, nose teasingly up in the air as he lets you go so you can pick up your bag.

“Not by you, they shouldn’t.”

“Okay, why don’t you book the cab, yeah?” he says, marching your giggling frame out the door.

The large board next to the main, high school auditorium entrance reads ‘PARTICIPANTS HERE' followed by a red arrow pointing to a small door that presumably leads to the green room.

You and Jungkook stop a few paces away, moving closer to the wall so you aren’t blocking the hallway that’s teeming with audience members trying to enter. Some of them take in your outfit and wish you luck, to which you reply with a grateful nod.

The confidence you were feeling earlier has been replaced by the shaky excitement that accompanies a performance. You wonder what you were thinking, deciding to launch your amoratic venture on the same day as the competition. Like you don’t have enough to be nervous about. But a plan is a plan, and you’re sure you’ll chicken out and/or rip all your hair out in frustration if you go another day without dealing with it.

But prize money first. Boys after.

“Y/N.”

“Yes,” you reply, trying to mimic Jungkook’s firm voice, even as your eyes take in the large crowd of people who are going to be watching.

“Let's get this bread,” he says.

You nod, taking strength in the knowledge that Mr. Kibum is judging, that you’re dancing with your childhood best friend, that Hyejin’s going to be in the green room as well, that Jungkook, Yoongi and Tae are all going to be cheering you on from the crowd, that this is dance.

The wink he offers you leaves no doubt of the fact that he means other breads as well and not just the show, but you ignore it. Focus is key.

“Break a leg!” he cheers, ironically enough seeing as how his ankle is still in a cast, despite the fact that he can walk now with a barely noticeable limp.

You shakily smile in response before waving and ducking into the room you’re supposed to go into.

Immediately, the loud noise and chatter from the corridor becomes muffled as you’re wrapped in a quiet air of anticipation and nerves that hangs heavy. A few people look up when you enter, the ones you know offer you a weak smile that you return. In the corner of the room, you spot Hyejin and Jimin doing their stretches, much like majority of the other participants strewn around.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve effectively temporarily suppressed your feelings in favour of focusing on the competition, or maybe that you’ve finally accepted them and decided to do something about them, but all you feel is a sort of calm glow when you see him. Your stomach does give a weak, little flop, but you don’t experience that urge to escape as a first instinct, like you’ve become so accustomed to recently.

You scuttle over, taking care not to hit anybody with the swinging bag dangling from your side.

“Hey,” you mumble, easily accepting Jimin’s hug as he smiles at you and grinning at a mid-split Hyejin.

You begin jogging in place to warm up to stretch as Taemin enters the room, fedora full of chits in his hand.

“It’s time to decide the order of performing! Everybody gather around.”

Hyejin smoothly gets up with her freakish core strength as you and Jimin look at each other. There’s a dash of glitter on his eyelashes, subtly sparkling in the light, and you can swear, at that moment, that he’s easily the most beautiful person in this room. Hell, in this building.

“You wanna pick?” he asks, quirking his head to the side.

Ordinarily, you’d decline. But with the clouds you’re walking on, maybe you should try your luck.

“Sure,” you reply, making your way to the slowly gathering crowd that’s surrounding a hassled looking Taemin.

You huff in preparation before sticking you forearm into the hat blindly and snatching the first chit your fingers close around. Somebody’s nails scratch you, but you’re too distracted, fighting your way out of the group of people, eager to reach Jimin on the outskirts so you can open the tightly clutched paper in your hand and see your fate.

“Ready?” you ask, once you’re standing in front of him.

He nods eagerly. There’s a flush on his cheeks, a light in his eyes you’ve never seen before, and the memory of watching him dance in that practice room for the first time all those weeks ago, with all that love and passion and elegant control enters your head unbidden. You feel a little sickened by the amount your heart warms when you think of Jimin getting this opportunity to do what he loves on stage.

You slowly open the paper, only for your heart to veritably pause for a second when you read what’s written.

No fucking way.

You look up, unable to keep the apologetic grimace from your face as you see him half-amused, half-disbelieving.

From the other end of the room, Taemin calls out “Team number 1!”

You and Jimin look at each other briefly before making your way towards him. Around you, you can hear small whoops. You think the muted laughter is from Hyejin.

“Pendrive?” he asks all business-like, hand stuck out, palm up, giving no indication that he knows the two of you, that he sees you every Saturday, that he was going to be Jimin’s partner first.

But the small ‘Good luck,’ and smile he gives as you’re both making to go away after handing over your music more than makes up for it.

Jimin leads the way to the corner of the room as the other teams go up in order and give their tracks. There’s silence for a second as you survey each other, trying to figure out just how surreal of a possibility this is.

You break it by mumbling, “Oops.”

All it takes is that stellar wit and ill-placed asinine humour for the tension in his shoulders to drop just a tad and his lips to quirk up, as he nods and says, amused, “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“We were going to go up anyway,” you reason, trying to make light of the universe screwing you over.

Agreeing, he replies, “Yeah, and now we can watch the other performers without being too distracted.”

You nod, humming, taking courage in these sad attempts at positivity.

You’re running through the choreography in your head, when you notice Jimin moving next to you, turning to face your body from his previous arms out, wrists rotating position.

“Hey,” he starts softly to get your attention, like you aren’t hyper aware of his presence and that the plan to act on your...romantic feelings is still very much present, even if it isn’t at the forefront of your brain.

You hum in reply, signalling him to continue.

“Regardless of what happens, I’m really glad I got to do this with you.”

You don’t know why you’re caught off guard, but you hide it best as you can when you reply with a smile, the most genuine one you have, “Same here.”

If anybody were to look at you, they’d see that :D emoticon that Tae's so fond of.

You think he’s going to stop there, but even as he turns back and continues stretching, feet shoulder width apart and hands on his hips, he says, “It was a lot of fun and I like dancing with you.”

You feel a warm glow at the comment, a soft shiver running down your spine as you take in the slightly reddish hue of the side of his neck and everything it indicates.

He likes likes you.

You’re not sure what possesses you to say it then, what stupid prank-pulling higher power decides that now would be a good time to do this, less than ten minutes before dancing together so you can’t even escape if things go sideways, but the next thing you know, the words are spilling out from your mouth of their own accord, tumbling over one other in a mad rush of adrenaline and bashfulness and nerves.

“Doyouwannagooutwithmesometime?”

You’re as startled as he is, maybe even more at this betrayal by your own lips, and you wish you could take it back the moment you say it, because now is not the time.

But thankfully, it doesn’t seem like he understood your stupid babble, and at the confused tilt of his head and his soft ‘Excuse me?’, you just shake your head and slowly say, avoiding his eyes, stuttering as your brain works in overtime, “I just said that...we both had a good time. Doing this, I mean. The, er – dancing.”

He accepts the explanation easily, bless his soul, but it’s still a relief when Taemin calls out that the competition is about to start and the two of you are up.

With one last nod and smile, as you force your head and heart to refocus, and manage to do so admirably well considering how close to fucking up you were, you and Jimin exit the room from the side door that leads to the auditorium, softly padding onto the dark stage behind the closed curtains and getting into the start position.

You meet his gaze as they announce your names, and the fabric of his t-shirt feels comfortably warm against your palm as they slowly open the curtains, and hundreds of eyes land on you.

The surrounding lights are bright and the attention nearly deafening, but nothing is quite as blinding and arresting as the look in his eyes as they bore into yours. The subtle pressure of his arm around your waist feels thrillingly familiar, but as you’re both waiting for the cheers to die down and the track to start, he goes off script.

Bending his head slightly, he begins to whisper, so subtly that nobody in the audience can notice unless they’re focusing very intently on his lips. Which...you wouldn’t blame them.

“You have horrible timing, but yes.”

And just like that, before you can even think about pulling away to look at him in shock, the demand for a less cryptic sentence, despite there being absolutely no doubt as to what he’s referring to, hot on your lips accompanied by the tingling certainty you feel when you look at his twinkling eyes that are partly mischievous but more noticeably excited, performance adrenaline taking strong hold, the music begins. With a small squeeze on your waist, he reverts to serious dancer mode from his previous Little Shit setting, taking a deep breath and twirling you away with a wink as you let the relief and joy and excitement flow through your body as you begin the routine.

“What’s this?”

“What’s wha – oh, fuck.”

You practically vault across the bed to get to the other side of your room so you can wrench the paper out of Jimin’s grip. He lets it go easily enough, a little startled at your sudden vehemence but amused nonetheless.

As you furiously rip it apart, not meeting his eyes, he teasingly says, “I’m pretty sure I read my name. Have you been making lists about me?”

“I have not,” you reply hotly, dropping the pieces of paper into your dustbin and gathering yourself so you can face him defiantly.

“It was a...to-do list.”

His eyebrow arches, eyes twinkling as he remarks, “At least take me out first.”

You huff, cheeks burning. “Not like that.”

He takes his shoes off, grin firm on his face as he sits cross-legged on the bed, facing your still shut laptop at the foot. “Well, you’ve got me in your room now, so I’ll let you have your way with me.”

You roll your eyes as you pick up the pizza box and place it on the centre of the bed, getting comfortable next to it.

“Second place isn’t so bad,” Jimin says thoughtfully a few minutes later, as you’re both watching the video buffer as you chew on dinner.

Nodding, feeling a warm glow at the current state of affairs and probably the most calm you’ve been in the last three weeks, not to mention an immeasurable sense of relief at not having to overthink yourself to sleep, you reply, unable to keep the shy smile off of your face, “Yeah, this is nice.”

Not that you've spoken about what this is. After the show, there had been a celebratory hug, which may have been just a tad tighter and a smidge longer than previous hugs, before the two of you were whisked away by the organisers for photos and caught up in a flurry of congratulations. As you had both stood at the back of the auditorium, blending into the shadows like the other participants that came to join you after their shows, watching the dancers on stage, there had been a kind of tension that comes with unresolved conversation. But for once, you were perfectly content just existing. There’s only so much emotional upheaval that you can manage in a day.

There had been brushing hands and awkward eye contact that was diffused by timid giggling and grins, but not much talking. Turns out, you’re both wimps.

And after you two had received second place and, along with Jungkook and Tae, eaten lunch at a nearby restaurant, right before everybody had parted ways, you had given yourself a pep talk, practiced in front of the bathroom mirror around ten times, and then gently tugged Jimin to the side and said, voice carefully controlled and tone slightly less rushed than the last time you had done this, “Hey, do you wanna come over for pizza tonight? And maybe a movie, or something?”

The smile accompanying the ‘Sure, that sounds great!’ you received was blinding, and a little relieved. Jungkook’s reaction when you told him on the way back, after letting him stew in silence for a bit, just for the fun of it, had been offensively surprised, like he hadn’t believed you’d go through with it.

(“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I had utmost faith in your plan.”

“Liar.”)

And now Jimin’s in your room (Jungkook’s probably right outside, ear pressed to the door), food in hand, The Office playing on the laptop screen (you had both agreed that a movie would require an unavailable amount of attention after such a long day), his knee comfortably resting against yours like a constant reminder that he’s there, as if you can forget.

And it’s easy.

Like an upgraded version of the old days, that comes with blushing and giggling and a nosy roommate who's given up trying to be subtle.

~

#bts #ficswithluv #ultkpop #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btsbookclub #btsguild #thekpopnetwork #park jimin #kpop #fluff #kpop imagine #bts imagine #jimin imagine #jimin fluff #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #yoongi #taehyung #hyejin #hoseok #namjoon #jin #bangtan #kpop fluff #bts fluff #jennie #taemin #key

[dibidibifiction]

A Hundred-dollar Bill: PART 4

Warning: foul language, fluff Word count: 1.9k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist PART 3

I gently pull away from Taemin’s cuddle to get up. He immediately rolls his whole body the other way, finding Kibum who is spooning Minho on the other side. Once again, I stare at all my best friends. This time they’re sleeping so soundly and this, for me, is enough to provide me comfort. However, I somehow feel sorry for getting them into this mess. 

I adjust this one blanket for them to squeeze in.

I grab Minho’s cigarette pack and head to the roof of the building to wait for the sun to rise.

Once I’m sat on the dirty, dusty cement, I light a cigarette to my satisfaction.

I think of my parents. I don’t really believe in life after death but I genuinely hope they’re happy and together wherever they may be. I wish there was a way to let them know how much I miss them. Also, I really hope they don’t see how I’m doing right now because my dad would for sure beat me up.

“Hey, can I get a hit of that?” I hear someone say after a couple of minutes of my alone time.

I turn my head to look behind me. It’s Taemin. “Oh, hey.”

“That ‘hey’ doesn’t sound like you’re happy to see me,” he giggles. He takes the cigarette from my lips and then to his.

“A singer isn’t supposed to smoke, right?”

“Who says I’m a singer?”

I stare at him in confusion after I light myself another stick. “Spill it.”

“Nobody knows this. Well, except for Kibum Hyung since he’s all for social media and happened to find the article. Thanks for looking it up by the way,” he jokes. “About a month ago,” he starts. “Euisoo Hyung handed me the news that he handled my situation and proved to the media and to everybody that the rumors about me are wrong. I don’t know how he did it, I didn’t ask, but I’m just grateful. Not to mention relieved. He said that I can get back to work as soon as I’m ready. And I asked him to give me some time to think about it.”

“What? Taemin, what’s there to think about? This is your dream.”

“It was. I already lived it for six years and I couldn’t feel more honored and fortunate, but…” He hesitates. 

“But what?”

He sighs. “I have a new dream. I realized that living a lowkey life made me happier, less pressured, especially with the person I love. I decided to go back to the original plan, which is to become a dancer. Not exactly a singer,” he says, tipping the cigarette butt out of his hands.

I watch his eyes twinkle under the upcoming sunrise sky. There is not a drop of doubt that he’s really sure about this. I always wondered how hard it was for him to recover from all the hate, and his fans cancelling on him. He didn’t really open up this deeply. Now, here he is, rising from the ashes. 

“Last night, when I went out while Kibum Hyung rested, I talked to Euisoo Hyung again.”

“Really? And?”

“He told me that I’m going to have a meeting with the board of the directors about my choreography and songwriting career. Turns out there still is a reputation to ruin I just realized. So…”

“So what happened last night can’t happen again,” I finish his thought.

“Well, not everything that happened. There are some moments I want to make happen again.” He gives off a grin, trying not to giggle at his own flirty information. 

“Wait, let’s get back to that part where you mentioned somebody you love. What’s that about exactly?” I join his kidding around.

Now he can’t hold his laugh.

We stare at each other for a while as the laughter fades. Slowly, he begins to lean into me to gently put his lips onto mine. Then carefully slides his tongue against mine as they start to dance together.

It feels different this time. It’s more tender and more passionate. It’s less wild but more gentle. Less lustful but more pleasant. Less exciting but more caring. 

He pulls away. “Look, I know we’ve never talked about this. Us. I never brought it up because I want everything to stay the same and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Yeah, I know, me too. I like the way we are.” I smile brightly at him, involuntarily. I take a deep breath as I’ve decided to say what I’m about to say. “I love you though.”

Tears form in his eyes like they wanted to say the same thing to me. I watch them close as he starts kissing me again.

The sun has come up which marks the end of everything reckless and rebellious and the beginning of something prudent and responsible.

. . .

We wouldn’t see one another for months after that day. We lived separately for a bit to focus on our own lives, to be better. 

But we did hang out from time to time, just not as often as we did before. Lucky for us, we had each other—we still do—to realize that it’s never too late to start over. It’s from each other where we learned that each of us is like a hundred-dollar bill. No matter how much we’re folded, crumpled, and stepped on, we never lost our value. 

We never experienced what it was like to be living free as youngsters because our lives fucked us up so early. That’s also why we lived it in our late twenties. Although one certain thing we know is that we have no regrets, especially after we found each other.

It is now six years later and so much has changed. Our individual lives have never been better, and we’ve never been happier. 

Taemin is now a well-known, well-esteemed singer turned choreographer and songwriter, working with famous pop groups and soloists. He would make a comeback once in a while as a singer but it doesn’t become his priority. 

Four years ago, just a year after his career peak, Taemin showed Kibum’s secret sketched designs to a famous designer he worked with for some time for his comeback.

Long story short, Kibum finished fashion school where he was sponsored by that same designer, who also became his mentor. Later on, his social media following started growing and he would be interviewed and be featured by different magazine and publishing companies. He would work on his own clothing line little by little in collaboration with various famous fashion icons. 

Minho served the military for two years after he ran away from his father, who patched things up with him recently. After his military service, he reunited with his former soccer coach in college and they trained day and night without taking any breaks at all. I would cook and prepare us a picnic, then the rest of us would visit him in the field. He would soon make the national team. And after being reserved in the bleachers for so long, just months ago, he was responsible for their team’s rare championship and is awarded as the Most Valuable Player this season. Now, Minho becomes one of the famous successful football players who peaked in their thirties. 

. . .

As I’m tidying up for closing, I hear the bell ring as somebody enters my bakeshop. I turn around to see Taemin, who instantly puts a smile on my face.

“Hey, you,” he greets with a warm hug.

“Hi,” I say before placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “I’m almost ready. Hold on a second.”

After I check all the lights in the back rooms and am about to walk out the front door, all ready to go, I catch Taemin lost in thought. He admires the place, then looks at me. Staring at me with twinkle in his eyes. 

“What wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head and loses eye contact. “I’m just so proud of you,” he says, trying not to smile so widely.

This was the same café where Kibum and I first had lunch. This was the place where our friendship grew. This was where the rest of our lives began. When I found out that they were selling it a year ago, I had no second thoughts and did everything to get it. And now, here we are.

“Yeah, well,” I grab both of his hands and sigh in serenity and bliss. “I am proud of us.”

He looks at the ground, cringing all of a sudden.

I wrap my hands around his neck to draw him closer, and kiss him tenderly, catching his tongue on mine.

He hums in pleasure. “Do we still have time?”

I pull away, laughing at him. “No, we don’t.”

He sulks and shows a childish sad face.

“Come on. We’re late to meet the guys.”

After a half an hour drive, we arrive at Kibum’s newly renovated, newly furnished house. Now’s only the first time we’re all visiting because he wanted it to be a surprise. When I finally recognized the place, it made me almost cry. Even though he changed almost all its features, it still brought back the memories we shared out here. It’s the place where we broke in six years ago, almost getting caught by the police.

While Taemin goes in through the front door to deliver the cake I baked and the champagne we brought, my impulse orders me to head to the backyard where the swimming pool was located.

I catch Minho out on the patio, grilling meat and sausages. I spy the rest of the area, and my sight lands on the swimming pool. Turns out it’s the only feature that hasn’t changed. Although, it’s way cleaner and way more gorgeous.

I can’t help but let the tears fall.

Minho finally sees me when he takes a sip of his beer. “Y/n, hey, you’re here!” He was about to welcome me with open arms but then he notices that I’m crying. “What’s wrong?” 

My voice breaks. “I know it’s silly, but it’s just we had such memories here, and now we’re—” I can’t go on. I’m already weeping.

“Come here,” he hugs me anyway and places a peck on my forehead.

“Minho, what’s going on out there?” Kibum finally appears, Taemin following behind him holding four glasses in between his fingers and the bottle of champagne in his other hand.. 

“Nothing!” I say, holding back tears even though there’s no point.

“Oh, honey.” Kibum reaches out and wraps his arms around me. Taemin and Minho are behind me embracing each others’ hellos too.

So we have dinner at Kibum’s patio. Later on in the night, we all jump into the very swimming pool that I never thought I would see again. Back then, I thought I’d have to cherish every moment because I might not be able to live it again. But that moment happens again right now. And it will keep on happening.

We bond all night like we always have. Minho’s competitive rock-paper-scissors, Taemin’s harsh tickling, and Kibum’s savage comments. Although this time, we’re not fucked up adults anymore. 

Once again, I propose a toast. “To fucking friendship.”

“To fucking friendship!”

#taemin x reader #taemin fanfic #shinee fanfics #SHINee FanFic

[onewfantaesy]

so keep in mind i wrote this story in 2014 when i was still in high school lmao so it’s definitely not the best. not the worst thing i’ve ever written, and probably better than some stuff just bc it’s actually finished lmao (but i’m gonna upload it as the 4 separate chapters) but don’t expect too much. anyways it’s called:

His Mother’s Son (1/4)

Taemin's never done anything illegal, so why is he sitting in an interrogation room at the police station staring at a one-way mirror? His name is not his name. His brother is not his brother. His parents are not his parents. And his whole life has just been turned upside down.

Taemin’s been an idol for almost a year now. The 15 year old, for his entire almost-year of fame, has never done anything illegal, so he wracks his brain for why he’s sitting in an interrogation room at the police station. His manager said he had something he needed to do by himself, and Taemin thought it was an interview or something. This is definitely not the type of interview he had in mind.

The room was well lit, but the cold metal table and the one way mirror on the far left wall made him unbelievably frightened. He could only hear his rapid heartbeat in his ears and his shaky breaths. This had to be some sort of mistake, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Lee Taemin?” The door creaked open loudly, and the female cop entered the room.

“Yes?” Taemin tried to appear calm, but his rapid blinking gave him away. He internally cursed himself when the nervous habit decided to show itself.

“I’m Officer Shin. There are some things I need to discuss with you,” she said, and she smiled kindly at Taemin, but it only made him blink even more.

“What - What did I do?” Taemin’s voice shakes, and the room suddenly feels very cold.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Taemin, but there are some things you need to know.” 

Officer Shin took two photos out from the yellow manila folder held in her hands. She lays photos of his parents down on the table, and Taemin feels his throat close up when he realizes they’re mug shots. She speaks their names and asks if they are Taemin’s parents.

“Yes, ma’am,” Taemin says. It’s only then he realize she asked if his parents go by those names. “What do you mean, ‘go by’?”

The officer sighs, putting on a sympathetic gaze that Taemin’s multiple years of idol training and experience can tell is genuine.

“Taemin, they’re not your parents, they’re your kidnappers.”

Taemin feels like the walls are closing in on him, and the air isn’t making its way to Taemin’s lungs and he feels like he’s suffocating. Suddenly, Taemin starts laughing, looking over at the one way mirror before looking back at Officer Shin.

“This is a secret camera, right? This is for a show? Ha ha, very funny.” Taemin’s laughter feels forced, and his hands are shaking. He turns back to the one way mirror, “This isn’t funny anymore, hyung! I wanna go back to the dorm!” Taemin hopes his manager is on the other side of the glass.

“Taemin, this is not a joke, this is very real,” Officer Shin tries to calm him down, and Taemin is running his fingers through his hair in distress.

“W-What about my brother? What about Taesun?” Taemin takes in a shaky breath.

“He isn’t your brother. He was kidnapped as well,” she informs him slowly, not wanting to upset the boy any further.

“What do you mean he’s not my brother? He’s Taesun and I’m Taemin! We’re brothers!” Taemin shouts.

“His name is not Taesun, and your name is not Taemin,” she says calmly.

“My name is Taemin! I’m Lee Taemin! My brother is Lee Taesun! I’m the lead dancer of SHINee! I wasn’t kidnapped!” Taemin feels a pressure build up behind his eyes, and he fights back the urge to cry.

“Please, I want to go home,” Taemin begs the officer; he wants to back to the dorm and pretend this never happened.

“We found out because of SHINee, Taemin. Your real parents saw your picture and they knew it was you. Taemin, you are going to go home, but to different parents, and different brothers,” she put her hands on his shoulders, telling him to calm down.

“What about SHINee? And those are my real parents, and he’s my real brother!” Taemin points at the pictures of the table.

“Your parents will decide whether or not you can continue with SHINee, but right now, we need to take you home,” Officer Shin tells him.

“How do you know these people are really my parents, huh? I don’t remember ever being kidnapped!” Taemin’s voice is shaking and he’s scared.

“This is a picture of you now,” she pulls a recent SHINee photo of him out of her folder and places it on the table, “and this is you from before you were kidnapped.”

“How do you know that’s me? That could be anyone!” Taemin tells her, shaking his head.

“The fingerprints we took when you first came in, we matched them to the ones we had on file of Kim Jaehyun. Now, let’s go get your things,” Officer Shin leads him out of the room, and he sees his manager sitting down with his head in his hands.

“Hyung, hyung please tell me this is a secret camera, please!” Taemin feels the tears roll down his cheeks as he begs his manager.

“I’m so sorry, Taemin, I’m so sorry,” he shakes his head, his face full of guilt, “Let’s go get your stuff, okay?”

“No. No! They’re my parents! He’s my brother! This is a mistake!” Taemin sobs as his manager leads him back to the van, Officer Shin following behind them.

Taemin feels numb as he sits in the back of the van. He stares out the window, watching as the cars pass by and the world around him moves in one big blur. This isn’t happening. This is a bad dream; a nightmare.

“Jaehyun. Jaehyun, we’re here.”

Taemin glares at the officer, telling her, “My name is Taemin.” 

His eyes stay narrow, and she only sighs at him.

“Let’s go pack your things.” 

Taemin follows after her only when his manager talks to him, telling him everything is going to be okay.

When they arrive at SHINee’s dorm, Taemin is annoyed that the officer keeps calling him by that other name, and he runs to Jinki the second he sees the older boy standing in the living room.

“Hyung!” Taemin wraps his arms around the leader, and suddenly it once again feels like his whole world is crumbling around him. “Hyung, tell her my name is Taemin! Tell me this is a joke!” Taemin feels the tears start to spill over his eyes again, and he can tell that Jinki is confused by the slow way the older wraps his arms around him.

“What’s going on?” Jinki asks slowly, and soon the other members are gathered around because of the noise.

“Jaehyun, you need to calm down,” officer Shin tells him, but Taemin only shakes his head.

“My name is Taemin!” he nearly shouts at her, and he can tell his members are getting worried.

She sends his manager to pack his things, and the members ask if Taemin is going to prison or something.

“What did you do?” Kibum asks, his eyes wide as he looks at the youngest clinging to the eldest.

“I didn’t do anything!” Taemin sobs. “And neither did my parents!”

“They are not your real parents,” Officer Shin says in that infuriatingly calm voice.

“Yes they are!” Taemin feels like he can’t breathe, and he feels Jinki sitting down with him on the couch and he wants to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

“You’re right, your parents didn’t do anything. Your kidnappers, however, abducted you and another boy thirteen years ago. Kim Jaehyun went missing twelve years ago when he was two years old, and he was finally found when his parents spotted him on an idol poster.” Officer Shin’s patience was growing thin with the boy.

“Then that makes Kim Jaehyun fourteen years old! I’m fifteen, you have the wrong person!” Taemin argued.

“Your kidnappers changed your birthday, now we’re going to take you to your biological parents for you to meet your family. Say goodbye to your friends, because we’re leaving.” 

She motioned to the manager to get the boy and follow her, and was annoyed when instead the manger came over to her and spoke to her in a hushed voice.

“Has it not occurred to you that his entire life just got turned upside down less than two hours ago? Yelling at him like that is not going to help.” 

The man couldn’t stand to see one of the boy’s he protects be treated so poorly.

“I have given him time to accept what is happening. Now, I suggest you put his things in the van and take us back to the police station so another officer and I can take him to his family, who, might I add, have been waiting for their child to return for twelve years.” She narrows her eyes at the man before turning on her heel and walking down to the parking garage.

When they arrived back at the station, Taemin’s things were moved into the back of a cop car, and Taemin was told Officer Shin and Officer An would take him to his family.

“Hyung?” Taemin looks over at his manager, “Hyung, please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, Taemin, but I can’t go.” He hugs the young boy close. “If you need anything at all, you call me, okay?”

Taemin nods, staring at his manager until the station is no longer in sight. He looks out the window his entire trip, the numb feeling in his chest coming back. He pinches his arm, and is depressed when he finds that it does in fact hurt. He was really hoping this was some crazy dream.

“Where’s my brother?” Taemin asks, wondering if Taesun is okay.

“He is with his own family.” Officer Shin sighs, rubbing his head from the headache this case is giving her.

“I wanna talk to him,” Taemin says quietly, hoping they’ll let him call him or something.

“Your family has said you are not allowed any contact,” Shin says in a tight voice, and Taemin narrows his eyes at the back of her head.

“Why not?” Taemin growls, unable to believe that his so called family would not allow him to talk to his own brother.

“Because he is not really your brother, now keep quiet,” Shin snaps, and Taemin goes back to staring out the window.

“He isn’t a prisoner, so I suggest you stop treating him as such,” An tells her, and Taemin smirks at the scolding.

When they pull up in front of a house, and Shin is getting out to remove his bags from the trunk, Taemin doesn’t move; he only continues to stare out the window at the house looming in front of him.

“Please, take me back home,” Taemin chokes out, unable to believe that this is reality.

“You are home,” An says softly, and Taemin looks over at the male officer.

“How can this be home if I don’t even know what street we’re on?” Taemin asks, and the officer sighs.

“Come, we’ll go introduce you to your family.” An holds his hand out, and Taemin puts his shaky one in his, and he’s being pulled out of the car and walking toward the front door.

The door opens revealing a woman who looked almost exactly like Taemin.

#taemin #shinee #his mothers son au #another kidnapping au! bc that's something i've always been into apparently

[sturlsons]

one anon sent me an ask about if all of my fic locations were based on real life locations but i deleted it like a dumbass so i’m sending it to myself

secret i do this all the time when i accidentally delete shit bc i’m actually really good at remembering the exact wording of asks but it’s 8 AM so

HI. so okay, most of the locations i refer to in fic are based at least loosely off places i’ve been to in real life. i’m assuming you’re talking about things like bars and restaurants etc ofc. 

in petersburg - the whole thing is set in stras so Every. single thing is real. eren and armin’s apartment is based off an apartment down the street from where i used to live, though i barely describe it. it’s near the main station. (i don’t usually describe living spaces a lot. tbh i barely describe anything i’m very curious about ur question actually.) jean’s apartment is near gallia and based off the ex-apartment that my friends oscar and hernan used to share. i wrote some scenes while getting trashed at theirs. the boat bar in which jean calls eren shorty and ymir is like, serving tequila or something, is barco latino. it used to be off the quais of gallia but it’s at rivetoile now. the cathedral is, well, the cathedral. the cafe is based off a now-closed cafe next to our physics institute. 

jaywalkers - so funnily enough, the Iconic vertigo and le petit whatever are actually just built from scratch. vertigo gets its name from an actual club called vertigo in grenoble that i either never went to or have no memory of going - it’s just special to me because my first real night out, this girl i met kept saying we should go there because it’s lit. le petit bum is possibly lowkey based off this chain of cafés we have in india called café coffee day, because those are really cozy if you ignore the demanding indian metropolis sprawling outside. very warm colours, couches, all that. but yeah. also, i know it’s impossible basically anywhere let alone metropolitan japan but in my head le petit cube is just that. a cube. like. this cafe in the middle of a parking lot kinda thing, not attached to any other building or anything. improbable? yes. but what are u gonna do. kill me. ANYWAY all this to say that jaywalkers which is like arguably my Biggest Thing is actually not based off anything, it was funny enough that i had to mention it here. that being said the library tsukki studies in is based off the library of my faculty. 

heretic - tsukki’s apartment is based off the apartment of the architect who designed my house in india. kuroo’s place is designed after the first apartment i have a memory of, from my childhood, where i lived for about three or four years. funnily enough, every time i imagine an apartment for kuroo and tsukki, it ends up being that one. the apartment in ephemerides, the one they used to share in moonfall, and even the one they’ll own later in jaywalkers. anyway. the club in heretic is based off this random club i went to in prague when i was trashed. don’t ask me the name, i don’t even know how i was standing on two legs at that point. 

s;b - oooh so AGAIN, my childhood apartment. jimin and jk’s place is based off it. i think there’s something about the design that just made so much sense to me. taehyung’s penthouse is imaginary i’ve never been to a penthouse lel. gd and tabi’s mansion is based off our country house in the woods of south gujarat. taejin’s engagement thing hotel is real. kibum and CL’s club is like a much larger version of a bar we have in stras called le 21. blue lights, very chic, etc. boongi’s club is based off this place in grenoble called the phoenix, but like, smaller and greener lel. 

11:58:30 - suho’s place is based off someone’s country house but i cannot remember who, definitely somewhere in india. we’ve got chemistry is one hundred percent our chemistry faculty’s bar. 

buttergingers - FUCK i meant fingers but that’s funny i’ll keep it. seokjin’s is based off a cafe we have in stras called oh my goodness. soooo fucking cute. 

poppy seeds - vmin’s apartment is based off my ex’s apartment, minus the fact that q and his roomies were. Special and had a collection of stolen street signs, a giant traffic cone that they use to gather bottle caps, and also one metal horse pogo kinda thing that they stole from a playground. so none of that. but definitely the apartment. same-ish apartment used for that hopekook fic where jungkook’s a giant theatre nerd. i basically default to this apartment for all extreme party situations in fic bc that’s what we still do when we go there. he lives with two girls now so it’s much more Sensible but that apartment is HAUNTED. anyway. that board game singing kinda cafe they go to is a combination of two of my favourite places in grenoble, kfee des jeux and brown’s which has since closed down. biggest tragedy of my life. 

that namjin indie cafe fic - so seokjin’s cafe is just a tiny generic indie cafe but namjoon’s cafe is based off this like place in stras that has since closed down/switched owners so the decor is nothing like it, but basically this place was a front for a secret bar like it’d always be empty and you’d go to the bouncer like table for 3 and he’ll look you in the eyes like We’re Full Sorry and you’re like what. i actually did that 4 times before i found out it’s a secret bar and you have to like waggle your eyebrows and go table for 3 UPSTAIRS and they let you up the stairs and you can enter if you figure out 1) where the door is 2) how to open it. fun times. it’s a great bar, it’s called moonshiners. BEST. COCKTAILS. EVER. 

rockstar fic - ehhh. the system is based off a bar in stras called delirium. i actually fucking hate delirium lel you can barely hear yourself bc it’s so huge and filled w ppl talking. they serve you piña coladas in coconut shells though and there’s this bartender called martin or marvin or MATHIEU THAT’S IT who will give you haribo if you ask nicely. the hotel they stay at is based off the hyatt at jeju. i mean it IS the hyatt. i just didn’t mention it bc like that’s whatever. kth’s studio is based off that one really cozy studio that coke studio pakistan often films in. i think it’s in laage re nain by ayesha something. also JIMMY’S. based off jimmy’s bar in strasbourg. beautiful. i lived practically across from it until last week, just moved. but i’m only 2 minutes further i literally moved like 500m away, life is good.

tuesday wednesday - ok so nothing special here but like their first Battle Moment on campus is definitely on my campus. in general if i vaguely mention Campus™ somewhere outside jaywalkers, you can rest assured that i mean EXACTLY this area: 

SO YES THERE YOU HAVE IT. now as a bonus for Big Boy it’s based in seoul (which i haven’t been to) but for the most part in paris (which i have been to and like lived in) and for The Most part the louvre. bonus appearances from moscow, st petersburg, new york, tokyo, and singapore. taehyung’s apartment is.........hilariously based on the apartment i just moved to. it’s hilarious because when i started writing (it opens at his apartment) i.....hadn’t seen this apartment yet? but i visualised it perfectly and when i saw it irl i was like oh it’s you. so fun times. 

#anyway enjoy!!!!!!! #there is so much stras in here #and so much of my campus given that it's................a butt ugly campus #ok that's not fair it has its moments #but it is VERY. #nothing matches. #straspresent #fic #teesta talks for ts #anons #replies

[whisperwoofwoof]

Golden Ch 12

Rating: Mature Pairing: JongKey Chaptered/WIP | 1.5k words Warnings: Language, occult, supernatural, general Jonghyun content Prompt: Dish soap, Children climbing a tree, Whistling, A sex scene, Holy water

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I just want to say that Jonghyun is the light of my life. I realize that some may not be ready to read fanfic about him, which is the reason for my warning, but I needed to finish the story in order to heal. When you write something like /this/ and then something like /that/ happens, it really messes with you. Anyways, here we go.

~

They would have nothing to stand on without their closeness and trust in each other. The things that were messed with and the paths that were taken required closure from all parties involved. Love and faith, whether they were in a higher power, what they could see, or in one another, were needed to send the evil back to Hell. The five unlikely characters could not afford to waver.

They could only rely on themselves.

-

His limbs tingled as he gained more control. For the first time since the ordeal began, he felt like he could breathe. His vision strengthened, allowing him to see Kibum clearly. The man stood before him, fire burning in his eyes. He could feel a smile creep across his features before the darkness overtook him once more.

-

“He’s fading in. Keep reciting,” Taemin said to Kibum at almost a whisper.

He strode to the struggling man, gripping his jaw in his hand. A loud hiss could be heard as the skin made contact, as Taemin’s palm was doused in holy water and burning the demon out of the vessel’s flesh. 

“You’re never going to take him, so you should just give up now,” the man said while Jonghyun writhed against his restraints.

“Awww, do I sense a bit of Deja Vu? That’s what you said last time we met.”

The demon smiled before opening his mouth and piercing at the skin in front of him. It was a decision he soon regretted because the remaining holy water fell upon his tongue.

“If you just wanted me, why did you get them involved? They’re all innocent,” Taemin shouted as he pulled his arm back.

“Innocent? That’s rich. Let’s talk about your friend Jinki, and how he used magic for his own gain. Or how Minho is only here because he’s a psychic who couldn’t listen to his own visions. And this sad fuck who kept pining over someone’s depressed ass until he walked into that building and let me out.”

“Many people go there. Why didn’t you leave with them before?”

“They didn’t have a road that led to you. I can see where all their paths lead them: complacency, debt, downfall. Only his path could lead me to you. I’m taking you with me, brother, even if I kill everyone in the process.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

The two barely had time to turn before Kibum climbed on the bed to pin down the demon himself.

“You’ll never take them. You’ll never take my Jonghyun. In the name of everything we’ve been through, the summer nights in the giant tree, our sacred home, and our future plans, let him fucking go!”

-

“Oculus Inferni, open and retrieve your sycophant.”

Minho and Jinki chanted, spilling herbs into the fireplace. The flames grew, both in height and power.

“Ex animo, ex ante, ex umbra in solem. Ex animo, ex ante, ex umbra in solem.”

They grasped at each other’s hands, fingers entwined, as they pulled their powers together. The salt surrounding them created a forcefield, pushing up a wall as the fire grew near them. For only a moment, they could see it fade into view.

The Eye of Hell itself.

And it was open.

-

“Damn it, brother. I’m not going back to Hell without taking everyone with me,” Jonghyun said, strength growing weaker as the spell in the other room became more strong.

“We hear you, demon, but we’re stronger than you. You’ll never pull us in with you, and you’ll never take Jonghyun from me. I absolve you back to Hell, where you will be for eternity, and the light will shine through the darkness of this event.” 

Taemin covered Jonghyun’s mouth with his palm, and Kibum placed his ringed hand on top.

“Say this with me, Kibum: Et lux in tenebris lucet.”

Kibum repeated, “Et lux in tenebris lucet.”

“ET LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET!”

At that, the darkness in Jonghyun’s eyes turned a stark white as his body convulsed. The two removed their hands in time to saw a dark plume of smoke emit from between Jonghyun’s lips. Taemin rushed to the door, where it was headed. As he opened the door, a rush of cold air shot at him, giving the demonic energy enough time to get ahead of him. He ran down the hallway and into the living room where behind the two witches, he looked into the Eye of Hell.

“Taemin, wait!” Jinki shouted, but it was too late.

The smoke surrounded him, constricting his body movement as it glided closer to the Eye. He was trapped, being taken to Hell as promised.

The ritual had already taken place and the Eye latched onto any demonic energy that was near it, including Taemin’s.

“No! Let go of him!” Jinki pleaded, flailing at the smoke but with no avail.

The Eye sucked them both in as Jinki and Minho watched. With a roar, the portal closed, leaving ash and salt on the floor of the silent room.

- 

“Babe, it’s me, Kibum,” he stroked at Jonghyun’s face.

The restraints were taken apart and Kibum was doing everything to get the man to wake up.

“Jonghyun, I’m so sorry for everything, just please wake up.”

He sobbed into his chest, shivering at everything that had happened. The evil was gone, and all Jonghyun needed to do was wake up.

“I accepted your proposal. We can be happy together, I just need you here with me.” 

A sharp breath followed by a hacking cough caused Kibum to sit up.

“Kibum?”

“Jonghyun? Oh my god, you’re okay!”

Kibum threw himself at the man, tears falling from his eyes more so that before.

“What-what happened? Is it gone?”

“Yes, Jonghyun. The evil is gone.”

-

The sun shone brightly against their skin, highlighting their features as they glided out of the church. It only seemed right, given what they had gone through. The crowd gathered and the bells rang as the happy couple smiled and posed for the camera. 

Jonghyun and Kibum were all smiles as everyone cheered. They were pulled closer than ever before, and no one could stop that.

Minho, Kibum’s best man, looked up and saw a familiar figure in the crowd and couldn’t believe his eyes. In a sea of bright clothing was a man in a dark jacket, looking on from far away.

Minho slipped away from the the party to catch up with the man.

“Taemin? But I thought you were-“ “It’s Francesco now.”

“Francesco? How are you even here?”

“I guess the big cheese was looking after me, looking after all of us that day.”

Minho looked back, noticing the man with the sunny smile talking to a couple of guests.

“He doesn’t know. I never told him when I came back,” Fransesco said.

“Why not? I mean, I thought you guys were close.”

They both watched Jinki from afar, who managed to get hit in the face with the bouquet. 

“You guys are happy, aren’t you? I just wanted to see the wedding. I only knew you guys for a short time, but I have to move on from here. You’ll see me again, so don’t worry. I promise I’ll always be with you.”

“Minho, I caught it!”

He turned his attention to Jinki who ran down the field, waving flowers in his hand.

“I caught the bouquet, just like you predicted! What are you doing over here?”

Minho turned back to where Francesco was, but found no one. 

“I guess i was just enjoying the scenery. Good job, old man,” Minho said as he ruffled Jinki’s hair.

“Hey, I expect that from Kibum, but not my own boyfriend.”

-

From the heights of their friendship to the depths of Hell grew a bond that could never break, no matter who and how many tried. Love could save the day and evil would perish as it tried to push through. No matter where anyone was, the five men were shining lights in the universe that would never go out.

“I love you,” Jonghyun said.

“I always will.”

#jongkey #shinee #fanfic #my writing #writingjes #god = big cheese taem = baby cheese #as always I need you #I may not be the best writer but this is to honor him

[akiscribbles-blog]

Illogical Love

-

Pairing: Kim Kibum x Reader

Genre: Sci-fi, fluffyish, AU

Request: “ Hi! Could I request a Kibum (from Super Junior) space au? Like space travel and strange planets. Maybe he’s the ship’s captain and the reader is a crew member and they get stranded on a planet but they end up falling in love and waiting for their communications to come back on. Fluff/angst/smut? Idk whatever inspires you! “ -  serenityxbecca 

Word count: 3082

A/N: It turns a little suggestive in the end, but there’s no smut or anything like that.

Numbers, patterns, logic, science, those were the things you were good at. Being a scientist wasn’t easy, but you loved your job. You loved to seek the answer to everything, it was your goal in life. Some people thought you were seeking a failure, but you surely proved them wrong when you were promoted as one of the main scientist of the ship.

   It wasn’t hard for you. The crew was nice, it was just the normal teasing they would make to you and others. Most of the time they were simply amazed of you. You were humble, never bragging, even though your fellow scientist thought you should. Overall, you saw everyone working in the ship as your family.

   You walked through the brightly lid white hallways of the ship, greeting each member who walked past you. Today was an exciting day. Your captain had wanted to find a new planet to explore and there had been signs of life somewhere near. You were excited, as you could join the people that would enter the planet.

   As you got to the end of the last hallway, large doors opened and you set foot on the pilot side of the giant ship. You stopped in your movements when you saw him.

   “Mister Han, what do the coordinates look?” asked the captain.

   “Looking good sir”, one of the men behind the computers answered. “We’ll soon be able to enter the new planet.”

   Captain Kim nodded his head in approval. He was an explorer, wanting to find anything and everything. He smiled proudly as he looked at his grew, his people. He cared about them a lot. About you. You admired him for his leadership, even when others had doubt him. Being so young and having little to no experience, practically only placed on the spot, because his father stepped down. But you believed in him, completely.

   He looked absolutely stunning in his gray uniform. You patted some non-existent dust off from your purple one, then touched your hair to make sure it was okay.

   He glanced over at the entrance, seeing you standing there. He smiled, gesturing you to appear by him. You coughed, quickly making your way next to him.

   “Captain”, you greeted him.

   “Kibum, dear”, his voice was soft and polite. You could feel a heat rising up to your cheeks, like you were blushing. You weren’t sure why.

   “So”, he started, looking at you with a smile. “I take it this is your first real explore?”

   You nodded your head firmly. “Yes sir.”

   “Kibum”, he added quickly.

   “Sorry sir- I mean, Kibum…” You looked down to your feet.

   “It’s okay.” He patted your shoulder once. “Get ready. We are going to be teleported on the surface soon.”

   “What kind of atmosphere there is?” you asked curiously.

   “Apparently similar to Earth”, Kibum explained. “So the air is safe to breath in for us humans.”

   You nodded your head again and then excused yourself to the communication expert. It wasn’t your first time leaving the ship via teleportation, but it has been a while, so you just wanted to make sure if they had done something differently.

   “Captain, we are ready!”

   “Good”, Kibum put his arms behind his back and walked over to the teleporter. He glanced at you, offering his hand. “Let’s go first, the rest can follow behind.”

   You smiled and grabbed his strong hand, getting pulled with him into the machine.

   “Don’t be afraid”, he said while wearing that kind smile. “I got you.”

   You gave him a firm nod. The glass doors shut down, and suddenly, light, a tinkling feeling all over your skin, like all of your atoms were rearranged and then, you weren’t in the ship anymore. All you saw was a reddish sky and orange ground with red trees and other similar plant-like objects. Your eyes widened.

   “It’s… fascinating”, you said in awe.

   Kibum let out a chuckle. “It sure is.”

   You walked around the strange land, making sure to get in all of it. The air had a strange feeling to it and you had a slight difficulty breathing, but it might have just been because you hadn’t got used to the atmosphere yet.

   “Strange”, Kibum spoke out loud to himself.

   “What is?” you asked while looking at the sky.

   “The rest aren’t here yet”, he answered taking his radio speaker out. “This is captain, can you hear me?”

   There was no answer from the other end, simply static noise.

   “This is Kibum. Do you hear me?” he repeated.

   Again, no respond.

   “Shit”, Kibum cursed, almost throwing the communication aid away.

   You turned around to look at him, raising your eyebrow. “What is it captain?”

   “I think the communication is out”, he said while he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “They said it was all okay! Even with the new updates.”

   “Wait”, you walked in front of him. “Does that mean that they can’t come here?”

   Kibum nodded his head.

   “Which means…” Your eyes widened as reality hit you, “We can’t get back!”

   Kibum scratched the back of his head as he was thinking. You snatched his radio speaker from him. “Hello!?”

   “They won’t hear”, Kibum noted as he looked at you desperately yelling at the machine.

   You sighed, giving the device back to him. He patted your head gently, which made you pout slightly.

   “Don’t worry. We’ll get back to the ship”, he said with an assuring voice. “My crew is the best, they know how to handle this situation.”

   You looked at Kibum’s face. He was smiling gently and it calmed you down almost immediately. His trust in his crew was admirable. He would trust his own life to the hands of his crew.

   “Come on. We may as well explore this new land while we wait.” Kibum began walking. “That’s why we’re here anyway.”

   You bit your bottom lip, following your captain as he went on with no clear direction. He made his way to one of the big red tree-looking plant and examined it closely.

   “It’s interesting. Like on Earth, but red?” he spoke to himself.

   “Do you remember anything about the Earth?” you asked while you carefully examined the tree yourself.

   “Yes. I remember a lot”, he spoke. “I miss it. I wish I could go back.” He turned his eyes on you. “Have you been to earth?”

   You shook your head. “No. I was born in the ship.”

   Kibum exhaled slowly, but his eyes lit up quickly. “Maybe, if we ever get the opportunity, I’ll take you there. It’s a beautiful planet.”

   You returned the gaze, your eyes widening slowly. “Y-you don’t have to, captain…”

   “Kibum”, he interrupted. “And I want to.”

   You smiled faintly, slowly putting your head down a little.

   “Now. Let’s continue our adventure!” He offered you his hand, which you took without thinking. He pulled you onto a road that was leading, somewhere. It’d be an interesting exploration.

-

You had walked the road, still holding each others hands. You didn’t know why, but you felt safe and happy with Kibum. He smiled, looking all over the strange land. If you believed in it more, you’d think it was love. But, your logical side told you it was just a biological reaction. He was a leader, a strong figure, your feelings surely were nothing but based on animal-instincts. 

  “What are you thinking?” Kibum suddenly asked. You jumped slightly as you hadn’t noticed how deep in your thoughts you were.

   “I was just... Nothing”, you tried to come up with something.

   “Is it me?” he asked while wiggling his eyebrows.

   “What!?” you nearly shouted. “No!”

   “Wow I was just joking”, he chuckled. “What about me is that you thought so hard.”

   “Nothing”, you bit your lip. “I was just wondering about... your past!”

   “My past?” Kibum stopped, placing his finger on his chin. “Not much to tell. I was born on Earth and lived there for a while, but then my father took me to a space ship. Not his own, but someone else’s. I made friends with some people there, but then our crew divided and I left with my father when he created his own crew.”

   “Wasn’t mister Han from that crew too?” you asked.

   “Yes he was. He was one of those friends.” Kibum smiled. “Ah, but enough about me. How about you? You’re one of my highest ranked scientists, yet I know little to nothing about you.”

   “What’s there to tell?” You shrugged. “I was born in a ship. My mother has taken care of me my whole life. I never knew my father. Mother rarely ever talks about him...”

   “Where did she meet him?”

   “On Earth. One thing she told me, and that was that she’d never forget her trip on the planet. I think I was conceived form a quick romance”, you spoke with no much emotion.

   “Aah”, Kibum seemed to understand. “Those happen. I can’t tell you how many times younger members have came to me, telling me how they want to go back to a planet we visited, because they miss someone who lives in it.”

   You giggled lightly. “What, so you’re a therapist too?”

   Kibum let out a loud laugh. “Yes, captain Kim Kibum, also a romance guide, how may I help you?” He bowed dramatically.

   You chuckled. “You’re a dork.”

   “Only for you.” He looked up and winked.

   He looked at you, to your eyes. You gazed back. You didn’t know what to say or do. Those warm feelings came back to you as you looked at him, his handsome face. He looked as if he was leaning slowly at you. You shook your head furiously to get those ideas out of your mind.

   “Let’s continue, please.” You turned your body to continue walking by the road.

   “Yes, my lady”, Kibum said quietly then followed you.

-

An hour had passed, or maybe two, you had no knowledge of time, it just felt it had been really long. The planet you were lost in, was still more just red plants and a red sky, like a forest. It was intriguing to you. You had taken the opportunity to pick some samples you’d look more closely when you got back to the ship.

   You crouched down, taking one last sample of an orange flower-like plant. Kibum took a deep breath of the air. Both of you had gotten used to it very quickly.

   You glanced over at the man. Your feelings for him had admittedly grown, and you weren’t sure if you could blame it on hormones. Sure, he was handsome and he had all the traits most women would want, but the more you got to know about him, his personality, the more your feelings were conflicted. Was it really love? It wasn’t logical.

   You placed your hand on your chest, almost feeling your heart beating through everything. You lifted your fingers on your cheeks, which were somewhat warm. You had a quick look at the captain again. He was looking at nowhere in particular, that attractive smile framing his face. You smiled to yourself.

   “So, you’ve gotten all you’ve wanted?” Kibum asked.

   You let out an agreeing hum, being in your own mellow thoughts.

   Suddenly, Kibum sat down on to the ground, his face at you. You awkwardly glanced at him, feeling your cheeks heat up once more.

   “What is it?” you asked nervously.

   “It’s odd”, he began.

   “What is?”

   “You.”

   “Me?”

   “Yes.” Kibum smiled. “This planet, it’s beautiful, but for some reason, I’d rather stare at you.”  

   You raised your eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me, captain?”

   Kibum chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

   “Well”, you started. “With flirting, a person compliments another, usually using words like “beautiful” or “pretty”,  “handsome” or “good-looking. You basically called me more beautiful than a whole planet.”

   “Well it’s true”, he said bluntly. “You are really beatiful, inside and out.”

   You took your gaze away for a moment, as you were afraid your heated cheeks would be red and he would see it. 

   He sighed out of nowhere. “Sorry. I made you uncomfortable. I shoudn’t have said that. You probably have a boyfriend anyway. Or a girlfriend.”

   “I have neither”, you answered just as quick.

   “Really?” Kibum sounded really surprised. “What happened? Did you have a break-up?”

   You shook your head. “No. I’ve never had a mate.”

   His eyes grew larger. “Wait, you’re saying you’ve never dated? Anyone? Ever?”

   “No.” You furrowed your brows. “Is that weird?”

   “Well, no…” Kibum looked away for a second. “You’re just so, pretty and talented. You’re smart, you’re kind, polite… You’re.. You’re perfect.”

   You let out an awkward cough, sitting down on to the ground to get more comfortable. “Thank you…”

   “Love... It’s-” he stopped himself, chuckling in a very nervous way.

   “But who needs to date in this day and age?” he suddenly announced. “We have the technology to simply enjoy an intimate relationship with another. If that’s what floats your boat… obviously.”

   “What do you mean?” you asked, being confused.

   “Like”, he coughed awkwardly. “Friends with benefits.”

   “Ooh!” you realized what he meant. “I’ve heard of those. It’s when two people who aren’t romantically involved decide to have sex with each other. I’ve never understood it, though. Why would someone do that?”

   “Because sex feels good”, Kibum said as a matter of fact. “You know.”

   You shook your head again.

   He stared at you for a good minute, trying to process what you meant. He leaned in a little closer, looking at every little detail in your face as if he was trying to see if you were serious. You were.

   “Wait. You’ve never had sex?” Kibum asked with both eyebrows raised.

   “No”, you answered.

   “How is that possible?” he asked again.

   “I’ve just never had intercourse”, you answered with no emotions in your words.

   Kibum let out a strange noise, being completely taken aback by your straightforward answer. He chuckled loudly.

   “I see it now”, he said with a joking tone. He looked straight to you, his lips slowly forming a smirk. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Why were you feeling like this?

   “Have you ever wanted to?” he asked, raising one of his brows in a suggestive way.

   You shook your head. “No. Sex is to reproduce, and I have no desire to do that right now.”

   His smirk faded, and soon it was replaced with an affectionate smile. “You’re adorable.”

   “What?”

   “Have you ever had a crush?” he ignored your question and asked another one of his own.

   “No. I...” You looked at his eyes, those dark brown eyes. You felt the strange sensation again. “I don’t.. know...”

   “I think I have a crush”, he said, leaning in at you more.

   You were a bit dumbfounded by his confession, not really knowing what to say to that.

   “Congratulation?” you tilted your head. “Who’s the lucky person?”

   “I’m looking at her”, he answered, not even blinking as he gazed at you.

   Your eyes widened. “What? But you’re looking at… me…”

   Kibum nodded, smiling in agreement.

   You suddenly felt a rush of heat rising to your face. Embarrassment. Your captain was implying he liked you, but for some reason, you didn’t feel bad like you did a few times when some other people had confessed their attraction to you. No, this time, you were… happy?

   You turned your head away, looking to the other direction. “You’re just saying…”

   You felt as Kibum’s hand touched your face, pulling it back to face him. He was only inches away from you, which made you blush quite intensely.

   He leaned in more, closing the gap between the two of you. You didn’t move. You let him press his lips against your own for a kiss. You closed your eyes, kissing him back. You could feel him smile against your lips.

   Kibum pressed his lips against yours more, deepening the already sweet kiss. Then tongues were introduced, much to your shock, but it felt good. You let yourself go, leaving a muffled moan inside his mouth. This time Kibum smirked, his hand slowly sliding down from your face to your arm, then your lap. You could feel a tinkling sensation, and your heart started beating faster and louder. Then suddenly, he leaned back and attached his soft lips on your neck. You tilted your head to give him a better access. You pressed your legs together. You knew what this feeling was; arousal.

   Kibum’s hand gently caressed your thigh, making your skin prickle. You bit your bottom lip as he trailed sensual kisses on your delicate neck. You couldn’t think logically anymore, all you wanted was to feel Kibum on top of you, taking you.

   “Captain!”

   Kibum leaned back, quickly taking his speaker out of his pocket. You swallowed harshly as you could feel your whole face heating up.

   “Geng!?” Kibum yelled back. “Do you hear me??”

   “Kibum! I thought we had lost you!” he answered. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

   “More than okay”, Kibum smirked, looking over at your flustered face.

   “Hm? Oh is miss alright too?”, mr. Han asked.

   “What?? Y-yes! I’m fine”, you managed to stutter out.

   Kibum chuckled. “I think she’s just a little, hot, right now.”

   You glared at the captain.

   Geng on the other side of the line sounded worried as he spoke. “Is it a strange disease you caught from there?”

   “Maybe not so strange, just alien to her”, Kibum again decided to answer for you. You really wanted to kick him at that moment.

   “No. I am okay”, you answered kindly.

   “Well, maybe we’ll check it on the ship, anyway? Just in case”, the crew-member spoke and you could hear him typing on his computer. “We’ll get you back soon enough. Hold on a second.”

   “I hate you”, you hissed at Kibum.

   His smirk widened “Nah. You love me.”

   He then leaned in close to your ear to. “Come meet me at my room tonight, if you want to continue what we started”, he whispered.

   “Okay captain, we’re ready to return you two to the ship”, the man behind the computer announced.

   Kibum quickly pecked your cheek and then leaned back, standing up from where he was sitting. He gave you one last wink, before agreeing to his friend. You stood up too, looking at the back of your captain. You smiled to yourself, trying to picture the map of the ship in your head.

   Where was his room again?

#super junior scenarios #super junior imagines #super junior x reader #super junior x you #kim kibum scenarios #kim kibum imagines #kim kibum scenario #kim kibum imagine #kim kibum x you #kim kibum x reader #kibum scenarios #kibum imagines #kibum scenario #kibum imagine #kibum x you #kibum x reader #super junior kim kibum #super junior kibum #au #scifi #fluffy #idek

[org3l]

11장: 더는 숨기지 말아줘

You were at the place where you first ate with Kibum. 

He called for you since it was his also his lunchtime. He even insisted that you should hang out after work, and even drink with him at home. It’s not that you’re wondering about why is he demanding your time but it’s really bothersome why only you. 

He could ask Dr. Lee about himself. 

He could ask someone else from his faculty members that he always talks with, or even Minho. Yet in your thoughts you hesitated on that, because he sounded so eager when he saw you in your place.

“_____________!” He sits down and drinks his latte.

“Alright, why are you asking for my time for the whole ass day.”

“It’s complicated. But can we eat first? I am starving.”

Then you ate, and talked about work like usual.

“My cofaculty members are just so annoying.”

“Why say that when you’re just here for a couple months.”

“I don’t know why they are reacting that way whenever I’m with Dr. Lee.”

“Haha… what did he do now?” With that sneaky smile again painted on his face. But his eyes were saying otherwise.

“He offered me tea. And they said it was the first time that he offered someone with that horrible tea. It wasn’t horrible.”

“Don’t sugarcoat anything he does. He just almost kissed you!” you recall, remember, reminsce the touch of his hands and his breathing as close as that space. It is tempting.

“You’re the reason why it was just almost.”

“I will not be surprised when you start initiating things more with him.”

“Then I’ll defy that chance.”

“Hahaha, bite me.”

“Anyway, what about you?”

“Me? I was called for a meeting in the Royal Society which means I have to fly to U.K by next week. It’s not even ideal especially that winter is about to come, or it’s just really not ideal because I don’t want to go.”

“You fly yourself to England just for that?”

“Well.. I studied there so my affiliations are clearly there too. What do you expect?”

You eye rolled but amused by how he didn’t mention this to you before. “That’s pretty legit.”

“No one says that word anymore, keep up with the trends!”

“And I see you postering around like there is an event everyday.”

“Why are you being vague? You always have to present yourself as much as possible to your students and to your officemates. My supervisor even thinks that I’m showing a good image towards my coworkers and to everyone that whenever it’s a Monday, everyone looks like a magazine model.”

“Maybe we’re just… really not concerned about that.”

“Try it. I challenge you of course. And look good in front of your supervisor.”

“He’s my boss.”

“Make sense. I just said the same time, why are you trying to change my words?”

“Why do you keep directing our conversation to him!”

“Because!”

Laughing out loud never felt so good that the students noticed and you commented that you were just talking about the new poster showed everywhere. It included Minho, and when you brought up that topic, Kibum disregarded it like: “He’s a coach. It’s just unfair that he’s the only faculty there. Can you believe that?”

As he decided to drink wine at his home instead rather than stay at the bar to talk, it was a great decision since you’re itching to know when someone offers their home as their place to hang out. People are different whenever they are at home, and their bare reactions to simple life problems like utilities and needs. Fun fact, he owns the flat, and living with two dogs named Commes De and Garcon.

“I’m sorry if the place is a mess.”

Mess? Probably, but it’s livable compared to where you are living.

“It’s okay.” Removing your shoes and placing them to the shoe rack. The dogs approached and greeted him with their tails wiggling.

“Commes De, Garcon, meet __________, my new friend. ___’s going to be here for the meantime, probably-” as he stands up and they follow, he goes to the counter and turns to the refrigerator to grab something “-for some several times so, be kind to ________, okay?” Looking at his dogs and looking back at you to smile.

“You’re talking with your dogs.”

“Helps me fill up the space. Living alone sometimes can be exhausting so I ask friends over sometimes. Hungry?”

Grabbing ingredients from the shelves and back to back to and from the fridge. You rolled up your sleeves to see him wearing an apron and walking back with a pan and casserole.

“Want me to help you?”

“If you want and know the recipe, sure.”

You were cooking a dish from the country he’s going by the next week, and it wasn’t hard to make But this also engaged to start drinking wine while doing so, and smelled your drink, mixed it before drinking.

“Ah… the way the movies do.”

“They always say that you have to savour your wine before drinking it.”

“It’s just a preference. I’d drink it and I feel good about it.”

“Jeez. you have your way of things.”

“I do. Shut up.”

Placing the plates of your food to the table in front of the couch, he turned on the television for a show he puts in play that you would find entertaining. It was something to just pay attention for a short time while talking.

“So…”

“Please present your case.”

“What case are you talking about?”

“Why did you want to drink with me?”

“I want to fucking drink!”

“Calm down, shit.”

He cackled and threw his pillow to you, that almost spilled the wine.

“Don’t spill that expensive wine on my couch!”

“Jeez! You just threw a pillow over my face. Please, just calm down. Are you already drunk?”

“Who says that I am?”

He laughed again and you observed how he fumbles over the table to grab the remote control to change the show. “Show’s really boring.”

“Why—I’m enjoying the material!”

“Are you serious? It’s the most boring show ever. Try this.”

“No. We have to talk.”

“What are we going to talk about?”

There was a moment of silence where you were both holding your glass with wine, folded legs on the couch and in sync of squinting your eyes before he shook his head.

“What do you want to know?”

“Uh… why are you not talking about Minho?” with a dissastisfied face, and he scowled.

“Why do we have to talk about him?”

“Exactly. Why?” Challenging to reveal himself.

“Why are you trying to twist my words?”

“I’m not!”

He groaned and placed his glass to the table before supporting his head with his folded elbows.

“Fine. We… met.”

“Okay…?”

He pulled two tissues from the box and started tearing up. “And he is just the most beautiful human being ever.”

“Jeez. What is wrong with you? I think I already know that.”

“He… is so beautiful that I could cry.” He sniffed and hugged a throw pillow where he hid his face and when he pulled it out he was smiling so hard that you threw a throw pillow at him. “Careful! You might break a vase!”

“Vase? Whatever that is. Stop fooling around and confess.”

“Are you a priest?”

“You’re a liar. I could smell the deception you are trying to attract me into so I won’t ask.”

“Fine.” He drinks from the glass and finished it. He placed it with a loud thump to the table and said. “He just asked me out.”

“WHAT!”

“Before he did, and now he is asking me again.”

“Oh… why is that? What happened before?”

“Being tipsy helps with the conversation therefore please sit back and relax.” He gulped and ate a snack before speaking up. You curled your legs again the other way around, directed to him and more relaxed to finally listen to his story.

“He asked me out… before when we were still new instructors in the university we came from. And… when that happened, we went to a cafe and liked one another so much that we stayed there until closing time just  talking about work and life.”

“Too formal.”

“Made out whenever someone stares at us.”

“ALRIGHT, I’M LISTENING.”

“But I had to go to U.K for my masters, and eventually got my fellowship which was a plus on getting in to where we work now.”

“That means you… guys…”

“I told him it’s better off without us because I think career wise and long distance relationships are pretty hard to maintain. I gotta fix my shit first before I put up with others.”

Thus, he has a point especially now to see the results must’ve felt fulfilling, but in terms of romance? Wonk, wonk.

“So… you guys met here again?”

“Yeah. He was already staying here and doing his masters at the same time when I arrived. It was surreal, to see him brush his hair whenever he trains with his team for the season’s game I just… get swooned over by it.”

“Hahaha, you are too adorable describing every single detail of this relationship.”

“Well… I think he has fulfilled his promise to me.”

“What is it?” You drank wine, and poured yourself some more from the second bottle that was recently opened.

“That he’ll wait for me. So I think… it’s worth to try now.”

“Did you even answer him yet?”

“Not yet… that’s why I’m trying to dodge the question because I need your opinion.”

“Should you give it a try or say no is your inquiry?”

“Yeah. Cause I don’t want to get into it too fast but also want to enjoy everything we can do.”

“You’re adults. You can do whatever you want.”

“I told him he couldn’t do it. But he did it.”

“He seems to be a solid guy.”

“Solid?”

“He just fulfilled his promise to you by doing his best to be with you. And surprise, you work in the same place now without both of you knowing, which means if you meet the second time, it’s destiny.”

“How can people not think like you?”

“It’s really hard to construct it. But given the chance of the life, might as well not miss it.”

[forsvtmx]

Dino Soulmate AU

“Ah, Hyung! Yea I’m on my way in now.” Dino hung up on Seungcheol as he entered the Pledis building. They had sent him out to buy snacks, and he had taken the scenic route back, so Jeonghan and Seungcheol had become worried.

As he entered the building he heard someone run in behind him as he entered the elevator. Dino turned around to see it was a girl around his age, maybe a tad bit older. She was holding a plastic bag along with her purse, which had an assortment of keychains and charms. She smiled at Dino and pressed the floor she was going to, which happened to be the same as him.

Dino felt something was off, not recognizing her as a manager or anything, and he soon began to fear she was one of those fanatics he had heard of. She hadn’t so much as looked at Dino, however, since she first arrived. As they arrived at the floor of Seventeen’s practice rooms, she got off and stepped out hurriedly. She took out her phone and looked at the numbers on the door before finding the one the boys were in. Dino called out to her before she reached the doorknob.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

She turned and seemed to fumble with her bag. There was no way she was staff.

“I-I’m a friend of one of the boys in the group Seventeen.”

Dino glared at her, “No, you’re not. I’m in the group.” How could she try and lie to his face?

She became a tad bit red and laughed a little. “O-Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you! I am a friend of one of your group mates!” She began to pull out her phone When the door opened and Hoshi stepped out.

“(Y/N)!”

What?

“Soonyoung!”

What?

The girl smiled and faced Hoshi, holding up the bag. “I brought snacks. And the DVD like I promised.” Hoshi smiled and took the bag, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “(Y/N), You’re the best. C’mon I have my laptop in the practice room.”

Dino followed them in, watching as his hyung took this girl, (Y/N), into the practice room, not bothering to introduce her as he grabbed his laptop. Dino gave the bag of snacks to the others, some of which who were staring at the girl just as he was.

“S-Soonyoung, they’re staring…”

You pulled on Hoshi’s sleeve, and he turned and looked at the others. He smiled and turned you to face them. “Sorry, I was so excited for you to be here I forgot. Guys this is (Y/N)! We met last week and now we’re best friends!”

Dino stared at you as you smiled and bowed, introducing yourself formally. Besides him, Jeonghan asked what they were all wondering. “Is she your soulmate?”

Both you and Hoshi laughed and shook your head. “I thought so too, but her mark is different.”

“How did you tso meet?”

You smiled and turned to Mingyu, “I was buying SHINee merch. So was Soonyoung. Long story short here I am. I hope I’m not intruding, but Soonyoung wanted to watch the SHINee World DVD I had.”

Seungcheol smiled, “You’re not intruding, we were gonna head home anyways.”

Hoshi pulled you back to his laptop and you two began opening snacks and drinks, giggling as the DVD began. The others began to filter out, only Chan decided to stay and practice a while longer.

“Lee Jinki! Kim Jonghyun! Kim Kibum! Choi Minho! Lee Taemin! SHINee!”

Dino continuously was distracted by the sound of you two screaming at the laptop, or singing along with the songs. Soon the DVD ended so you and Hoshi just talked.

“I really wonder if my soulmate is in shinee?”

Hoshi smiled and shrugged. “I mean a diamond is their logo, but you never know. Our logo is a diamond too.” You smiled and shrugged.

“If it is someone in shinee, who do you think it is?”

“I hope it’s Taemin. Not only is he closer to my age, but he’s a dancer. I’ve always had a thing for dancers.”

You faced your best friend as he wiggles his eyebrows. “Really? Because I know a really good dancer.”

You tilted your head, “oh it’s you! I forget. I actually watched you guys’ dance stuff. You’re incredibly talented, Soonyoung.”

Dino watched as his hyung stood and began doing a silly version of Aju Nice, pulling you up as well. “Want to learn to dance? I can teach you.” You shook your head.

“What we need to do is clean up these snacks.”

Hoshi smiled and grabbed the wrappers and went to throw them away. You grabbed a bag of chips and water bottle you had left over and walked to Dino. “Here, you worked hard today.” As Dino took the bag and thanked you, he noticed something on your pinkie, and his heart dropped. “Is something the matter?”

“(Y/N)! Come on, we should get you home.”

Dino watched you grab your stuff and head out, Hoshi close behind you. It couldn’t be. You couldn’t be. Hoshi might not admit it, but he liked you, and Dino couldn’t taint that.

Over the next few days, you came over more and more, and more of the group seemed to open up to you. The gag trio would ‘perform’ for you and you would laugh and Dino would feel sick to his stomach. You would come to the practice room even at the latest times they’d be there to bring snacks and drinks and comfort. Everything you did made Dino feel worse.

“Is something wrong, Chan?” Jeonghan had noticed something was off these past few days, especially now, as Soonyoung and you left to walk you home. Dino shook his head and began fiddling with his ring. “Chan? Do you not like (Y/N)?”

He shook his head immediately. “That’s not it…I…Have you seen her soulmark?” Jeonghan nodded, watching as Chan pulled of his ring. He showed Jeonghan the small diamond. “Chan…You have To tell her.”

Before chan could answer, Hoshi walked in, sitting down near Jeonghan and Chan. “What’s wrong? Chan looks like he’s gonna cry.” Dino shook his head tried to put on his ring, but Hoshi noticed it first. He grabbed Dino’s hand and looked at the mark. “Chan…Why didn’t you tell me!”

Dino bit his lip and pulled away. “I didn’t want to ruin anything.”

Hoshi smacked his head, “Are you stupid? She’s crazy about you! And she doesn’t even know it’s you! All she talks about is her soulmate and here you are! You have to go, tell her!”

Before he could think of anything, an impulse came over Chan. He found himself running out of the door, running towards something, towards you. He had no clue where you lived but he also knew? Nothing made sense to him. All he knew is that he had to get to you.

He knocked on what he believed was your door, and hoped. He had a speech in his head about everything. About how he tried to not fall in love with you but he couldn’t, about how he was sorry he didn’t tell you, about everything. This all disappeared when you opened the door. As Dino heard you call out his name another impulse came over him. All the frustration he held in since meeting you came over him. All the love for you that he had forced down and away came over him. And he let it. And he found himself pulling you towards him, and he found himself doing something else.

You didn’t know how to react to Chan kissing you, but you kissed him back, the butterflies in your stomach told you to. It felt warm, and you felt your hand begin to sting. When he pulled away you felt like your heart was going to explode. You stared into his eyes as he said nothing, simply grabbing your hand. You looked down at your pinkie, and you saw the mark had changed. It was pink and blue, just like the one under Chan’s ring. You understood immediately, turning back to chan. Neither of you said anything for a long time, choosing to instead stand in a silent embrace.

“I’m sorry..I knew all this time but I—”

You shook your head, “That doesn’t matter. Right now, nothing matters. Only you matter.”

Chan smiled and kissed you again, shorter this time, smiling as you both held your foreheads together. “I love you Chan.”

“I’ve loved you for a week.”

“I’ve loved you all my life.”

#soulmate au #Dino #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #kpop scenarios

[taeminuet]

Heartbeat (3/?)

Title: Heartbeat Fandom: SHINee Pairings: (eventual) Jongtae; Minkey; OnKai Chapter Wordcount: ~4k Rating: R (Some chapters will be NC-17; these will be marked.) Summary: In which not every problem needs to be fixed and not every person needs to be saved; sometimes you just need support.

Chapter warnings: discussion of various mental disorders, ableism (internalized and amongst characters)

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1 , 2

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Chapter 3: Taemin

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It's not long enough. Taemin's not even sleeping, hardly dozing, just somewhere between awake and asleep and thoroughly, utterly exhausted. But when he's like this, the tiniest sound stirs him, jerking him back awake, and Taemin wants to murder whoever had woken him. Sleeping or not, he'd been somewhere not quiet as hellish as being fully awake, and now he's not. If looks could kill, his door would be on fire right about now, and whoever had knocked on it would be dead on the other side.

“What?” he groans, knowing that he sounds hoarse and annoyed and not really caring.

The door eases open, and Onew peers inside, face the picture of guilt. “Sorry,” he whispers, face the picture of sincere apology. “It's time for group, and they'll want you to show up. I think normally they'd wait, but we don't have group on Sundays, so if you don't come today...”

Onew trails off, chewing absently on his bottom lip, and Taemin takes a deep breath before the anger fades away. It's not Onew's fault. And he wouldn't have gotten much more rest anyways. He's just irritable because he's exhausted. He's always irritable, because he's always exhausted.

At least his body knows the difference, though. He's still tired, but not quite so much as before, and he's grateful for at least being able to shut his eyes and just not think for a little while. Especially with the fact that Onew is apparently here to drag him to group therapy, and airing his dirty secrets is the absolute last thing that he wants to do right now.

The thing is, he knows why he's here, but he doesn't exactly know if he's going to be able to do it. What could he possibly say? Therapy or not, this isn't something he can just blurt out to people, especially not ones he just met.

Well, okay. Maybe he'd even being okay talking to Onew or Minho, sharing bits and pieces with them, but the thought that he's expected to just spill all of it at once is horrible. Nevermind the thought of talking about this shit in front of someone like Jonghyun, or in front of some doctor who he's never even met. God, fuck that shit.

Plus, Taemin doesn't seem to be the only one reluctant to go. Onew's obviously already retrieved Minho, but Minho frankly looks awful, eyes a little swollen like he's been crying or something. Onew keeps shooting him nervous, worried glances, opening his mouth like he wants to say something and then closing it again. Minho hardly even seems to notice.

Taemin feels his gut twist uncomfortably. “Minho?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

“I'm...” Minho answers, slowly, and then hesitates, clearly changing his words mid-thought. “I'll be fine. Don't worry.”

“I'm sure they'll encourage you to share in group,” Onew says, and there's a kind of uneasy warning in his tone.

Minho nods. “Yeah,” he says, pushing his hair away from his face. “Yeah, thanks. I'll think of something.”

Taemin opens his mouth to ask, because he's equal amounts concerned and vindicated that Minho, like him, clearly doesn't plan on sharing with the group. But he hasn't even gotten a single word out before he's interrupted by Jonghyun's almost sudden arrival.

“I'd do it quick if you're gonna,” Jonghyun says, sauntering his way up to them. He looks no worse the wear for his and Taemin's interaction this morning, even eyeing Taemin up for a moment and imparting a wink before he turns back to Minho, stepping closer. “You know they're not huge fans of us making shit up, but I'd be happy to help you distract them if you'd like.”

He puts way too much emphasis on the word distract, leaning close into Minho's space and touching freely, hand picking at Minho's shirt and starting to push under it before Minho pushes him away, looking unhappy.

“Fuck off,” Taemin says, mostly because it doesn't look like Minho's quite up to being harsh with Jonghyun right now, even if he clearly doesn't want him in his space. “Seriously, why the hell are you even here?”

“I have group with you, remember? I know Minho here has it written down all nice and neat, so no worries there.” Jonghyun smiles, and it's not quite as smarmy or smug now, but it still makes Taemin bristle a little. Jonghyun laughs. “You're adorable. Just so you know, they're going to play the new-kid-in-class card, so everyone best be ready to share their life story.”

There's something very nearly bitter about his words, just for a second, but Taemin doesn't have time to dwell on it before Jonghyun is turning and walking off as quickly as he'd come, heading towards the room that Taemin remembers as being labeled group therapy. Reluctantly, Taemin follows.

It's a pretty standard room, all told. The far walls are lined with windows too thick to properly let light through, and florescent lights in the ceiling take care of the job instead, glinting sharply off the tile floor. There are five chairs in a circle, traditional metal folding types, more than one of them looking battered, with little dents in the metal and scratches along the surface. On one side of the circle, there's a space left, big enough for a wheelchair. There's also a free-standing whiteboard in one corner, prompts written on it on faded blue marker, scribbly little talking prompts that generally follow a theme of, “Today, I am...” and “I feel...” like they're grade school kids who have trouble expressing their emotions.

Overall, it feels a little claustrophobic. Maybe not the best place to put them if anyone's expecting open and honest conversation.

Jonghyun is already taking one of the chairs, twisting it around so that he can straddle the chair, legs spread wide and arms folded over the back of the chair. His hands are in fists over the back, and one leg jiggles a little as he sits, but he looks a little distant and he doesn't say anything when Minho settles in next to him.

Onew and Taemin exchange glances before taking their seats, Taemin sitting next to Minho and starting to say something before deciding it might be best to leave well enough alone. Key isn't here yet, but Minho keeps glancing at the space left for him, and Taemin really isn't sure what happened. Is this still about breakfast? It seems a little much, but who is he to judge?

Key still hasn't arrived by the time the doctor shows up. Or, Taemin assumes he's the doctor. Or some weird fucked-up Halloween costume. He's wearing scrubs and a white coat, pens in his breast pocket and a clipboard in his left hand, all standard fair that makes him look a little like a parody of himself. He's middle-aged, hair starting to grey a little in spots, and his face is kind enough, even if his smile doesn't quite meet his eyes.

“Lee Taemin?” he asks, looking at Taemin and extending a hand. “I'm Dr. Kwon. I'll be leading your daily group therapy.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Taemin recites, because even if he's still not sure of this place, he knows how to be polite, at least.

In his chair, Jonghyun perks up. “Taemin, huh? It's a cute name. Great to scream in bed.”

Taemin hisses through his teeth. “Shut up, Jonghyun,” he spits, brutally ignoring the invasive thought that his name actually doesn't sound that bad coming out of Jonghyun's mouth. It doesn't mean he wants to deal with Jonghyun being an ass.

Even the doctor is giving Jonghyun a hard look, saying his name warningly, and Jonghyun laughs, holding up both hands in a motion of surrender. “Alright, alright. Calm down. I'm just trying to play nice. Isn't that what we're supposed to do?”

“Clearly you've missed the point of what that actually means, Jonghyun,” Dr. Kwon says, in a tone that reads as way too used to Jonghyun's antics. “But you're right. We all need to get along if we're going to make Taemin's stay here a helpful one. So, I suppose we should start today with introductions. Has anyone seen Kibum?”

“Fucking called it,” Jonghyun says under his breath as everyone shakes their heads in the negative, Minho casting another worried look towards Key's empty spot.

Taemin only rolls his eyes at Jonghyun, but the doctor has a different response, zeroing in on Jonghyun and smiling sharply. “Are you volunteering to go first, Jonghyun?”

Jonghun's laugh is almost cold now. “No way in hell, doc,” he says. “We're not trying to scare the new kid.”

Taemin's not sure what he means by that, but he doesn't get a good feeling about it, and Dr. Kwon is staring at Jonghyun impassively. “It's not that difficult, Jonghyun,” he says. “Here. I'll show you; I'm Doctor Kwon Sungho. I'm here to help you all with your pre-existing conditions so that you can live a healthy and productive life. I also have a four-year old daughter named Sunmi. See? Not so hard, and Taemin knows a little more about me now.”

“Yeah, because all of that information is so substantial,” Jonghyun says, voice sounding more biting by the second, his hands shaking where they're gripping the back of the chair now. He's squirming a little, not making eye contact with anyone, especially Dr. Kwon who's still staring, waiting.

After a minute, Jonghyun huffs air out through his nose and slumps in his seat. “You know what, fine. My name is Kim Jonghyun. I'm here to learn to deal with stress and sexual desire in an appropriate fashion,” he says, drawling the words out so that they're scornful and derisive. His hands are still shaking. “And, fun fact, I've fooled around with at least half the patients in this facility, so good luck guessing which ones.”

The doctor goes very stiff, but Jonghyun only grins.

Honestly, Taemin isn't sure if that's a lie or not. How far has Jonghyun gotten with people around here? He's not bad looking, and he's clearly persistent. If he weren't such an asshole, and if Taemin didn't know better, he might even...

“You can definitely count me out of that number,” Key says as he wheels himself in, only a few minutes late to this awful, awful party. He looks like he's been crying too, but less so than Minho. His eyes are red, but he's stone-faced as he wheels himself to his seat, very clearly not making eye contact with Minho, instead looking at Jonghyun and lifting a challenging eyebrow as he says, “I wouldn't get near that with a ten-foot-pole.”

Jonghyun winks. “Oh, but baby, you're already the perfect height.”

It's a quip, one that makes Key scoff, opening his mouth to retort, but Minho gets there first. Everyone else seems to be as surprised as Taemin, honestly, like they weren't expecting Minho to be the one to snap, “I don't think it'd be hard to figure out. You'd just have to test everyone for mysterious venereal diseases. I doubt Jonghyun's completely clean.”

Jonghyun stiffens, entire body going tight as he hisses like an enraged cat. “You absolute fucker,” he growls, and now it's not his hands. Now his entire body is trembling.

The doctor is frowning, standing up to try and regain control and starting in with, “This is not appropriate--”

Jonghyun doesn't seem to care. “I'm perfectly fucking clean,” he snarls. “You should know that, shouldn't you. You remember our little thing, don't you? Oh, wait.”

It's mean, so pointedly and intentionally mean, and Taemin feels horrified. But if Taemin is horrified by it, then Key looks livid, like someone has just reached out and slapped him across the face. Minho just looks scared, stuttering out excuses of, “I... no, I wouldn't, I...”

“Jonghyun,” Onew says, hands bunched at his sides and looking upset, “stop it!”

For a moment, Jonghyun stills at that, scanning Onew a few times, and then his expression shifts and he bursts into stilted laughter. “Yeah right, Onew. You're not one to talk. We all know I've had a taste of that,” he says, eyeing Onew's crotch before returning his attention to Minho, words angled to hurt as he says, “Go on and say what you will. It's cute how you act like you'd actually know.”

Taemin is stunned silent. This is vicious, so much worse than breakfast, just Jonghyun lashing out to lash out. Why is he doing this? There's no reason for it.

But all of them seem to be doing it now, even Key who bites out, “You can stop lying to us at any time now. We all know you have more STDs than a hooker with daddy issues. Oh, wait.”

There's a certain tone to that, one that makes even Taemin flinch, his entire body going stiff at the word 'daddy' like he's on a hairpin trigger. Then again, he's always on a hairpin trigger nowadays.

But Jonghyun's trigger is apparently even worse, because he lets out a furious noise, flying to his feet. He's practically a live wire, his entire body vibrating with tension, and he moves like he's going to come closer to Key, but he stumbles over the leg of his own chair like he's moving blindly. He catches himself on the back of his chair, just barely stopping himself from falling.

“Fuck you,” Jonghyun gasps out, sounding winded like someone's punched him. “Fuck you, Key. Don't you dare--”

“Jonghyun,” Dr. Kwon says, finally raising his voice loud enough to cut through the argument. “Leave. You cannot continue acting this way in group, or you'll be confined to isolation again. Do you want that?”

Jonghyun shudders visibly, eyes going frantic. “No!” he yelps, “I-- fuck, it wasn't just me. What about--”

He gestures wildly, towards Key and Minho, but there's a kind of helpless look on his face, like he knows it won't be taken seriously. And yeah, Jonghyun was being a dick for no reason, but he wasn't exactly the only one at fault. Still, the doctor is staring him down, and Jonghyun lets out a noise like a whimper, low in his throat.

“Fuck you,” he says finally. “Fuck all of you.”

He sinks back into his seat, sitting the proper way now, facing away from them all and hunching into himself, still shaking.

After a moment, Dr. Kwon sighs. “Thank you for sharing, Jonghyun,” he says, acting like there hadn't almost been an all out fist-fight in front of him.

Taemin gapes at him, but Dr. Kwon has a look of exhausted patience, like a tired parent who knows their kid is an asshole and just wants to gloss over it and keep going. Apparently, they're all used to this, which really says something. Taemin isn't entirely sure what.

“Kibum, would you like to share a little about yourself?” Dr. Kwon prompts, evidently just trying to push on. “Name, why you're here, something about yourself?”

Key laughs, a sharp bitter sound. “Kim Kibum,” he says, “and if you can't tell why I'm here, you're blind.” He pats his own leg meaningfully.

Dr. Kwon frowns at him. Taemin gets why. Plenty of people in wheelchairs live completely normal lives. They aren't stuck in some therapy room snarling at each other. But Key doesn't exactly seem keen to share. None of them really seem keen to share. Taemin is starting to legitimately question why they even have this type of group therapy thing when clearly not a damn one of them actually want to open up and talk about their issues.

“Kibum,” the doctor says, voice careful and warning, but Kibum only gives him a bored look, clearly unamused, and the doctor sighs yet again. “Thank you, Kibum. Would anyone else like to share? Onew?”

There's silence for a long moment, and Taemin looks around to see why. Of all of them, he would have assumed that Onew would be the most likely to open up. But Onew is hunched in his seat, shoulders folded in towards his body, taking up as little space as possible. He's picking at his sweater, not looking at anyone, but very pointedly avoiding even glancing at Jonghyun. His lower lip is already swelling, but he's still chewing on it nervously, front teeth catching on the slight chap of it. He doesn't really look like he's here at all.

“Onew?” the doctor prompts again, a little louder and more pointed.

Onew jerks, sucking in a quick breath and looking up. He shifts minutely, trying to straighten up, eyes wide as he flashes a pretty, tentative smile. “Yes, sorry. I was-- I just. Sorry. I'm... well, my legal name is Lee Jinki, but I'm Onew. I'm here because my... my, uh, my parents, they brought me here so that someone could help fix me?” He's stumbling over himself and his own words, clearly even more nervous than he'd been with Taemin earlier today. “And, uh... I don't really have anything interesting, just... I mean, I've been here longer than most of the staff which is... cool, I guess?”

Oh. Oh shit. Taemin is actually genuinely taken aback. This is, somehow, worse than the snarling. All that anger, but Onew just seems tired, mostly.

Onew had told him how long he's been here, but put in context, it seems terrible. Especially hearing Onew say so easily that he's here to be “fixed” like he's some sort of broken toy.

And maybe he's not “normal”. Having an extra personality isn't exactly what most people would consider normal or healthy by any means. But neither is going for weeks without a night's sleep or having to write down everything to keep from forgetting or blowing up over a poorly-phrased comment or being basically desperate to fuck anything with a pulse. He's sure everyone in this room pretty much feels chewed up and tossed aside, and Taemin feels his heart ache for all of them, even a tiny bit for Jonghyun who's sulking so badly that he can't be completely okay.

And it sucks. All of it sucks so badly. But not enough that he can make anything real come out when the doctor turns his eyes on him and prompts, “Taemin?”

He feels his throat close up, and his hands start to shake minutely. He curls them back into his hoodie, making little sweater paws for himself so that the others can't see how badly it affects him to have every eye in the room on him, pinning him in place and waiting for him to spill secrets that no one but him and Jongin have ever known.

This is what he's here for, but he can't bring himself to talk about it. Even if it's obvious, even if it's easy to tell by looking at him, a part of him still feels ashamed, like he could have done something to prevent all of this. He knows he couldn't have. He knows he did everything he possibly could. But he also knows he went about it the wrong way sometimes, and it hurts to know all of the stupid shit he's done to try and fix something that isn't his fault, that isn't going to go away.

“I'm Lee Taemin,” he says finally, staring at one of the tiles on the floor. “I'm here because I can't, uh, I can't sleep.”

That's all he gets out. There's more words, more reasons, but they feel jammed up in his throat, like forcing them out will actually hurt him. And he knows that leaving it like that makes everything seem so menial compared to the others, but he can't get the words out. He can't just finish that sentence, just tell them.

He can't sleep. That's easy enough to say.

It's a lot harder to admit to the dreams. It’s harder to talk about the way that no person could possibly sleep past growing terror that fills every single cell in his body. He doesn't want to have to explain how that fear leaves him frozen and unable to move, trapped in night terrors, unable to tell the difference between his dreams and reality. He doesn’t want to talk about how his brain has apparently decided that constant, horrible exhaustion is better than facing down those shadows of his past.

No. He can't do it. He cant tell them all of that. Not when the thought of saying it aloud makes him feel so vulnerable that any single one of them could hurt him too easily.

He takes a deep breath, feeling guilt and shame twisting him up in knots. Finally he adds, for the sake of copying the pattern, “Before all of this, I used to be a dancer. I mean, I guess I still am, or... or could be, but...”

He glances up, just for a second, just to gauge the room. Onew is looking at him, something soft and sad in his gaze. Minho is too, head tilted a little like he's trying to figure something out, figure out all those unspoken words.

Key is almost glowering, not quite at Taemin, but almost through him somehow. There's something tight in his face, lines of hard emotion that Taemin thinks might be irritation or maybe, if he's not completely wrong, jealousy. There's a lot that Key's not saying either.

Jonghyun isn't looking at him, still faced away from them all, sulking and refusing to participate. It almost helps, the fact that Jonghyun doesn't seem to be trying to pry into Taemin. Taemin knows, logically, that it's just Jonghyun being a petulant asshole, but still. One less set of eyes on him. It's almost reassuring.

“Thank you, Taemin,” the doctor says, startling Taemin badly enough that he jumps, chair scraping across the floor. Other than a few cringes at the noise, nobody brings it up, and the doctor only continues, “I think you'll settle in well here.”

Taemin's not sure if that's exactly a good thing or not. Better than not settling in here, he guesses. He's honestly just glad to be allowed to be done talking, though he feels a bit bad when the doctor's focus turns on Minho instead, prompting him with a, “Would you like to finish up for us today?”

Minho blinks, hesitant, something tightening a little in his jaw before he says, almost calmly, “I'm Choi Minho, and I don't remember why I'm here. Or anything about being here. Or anything past the age of 18.” He pauses, his fingers curling inwards, halfway to fists in his lap. After a moment, he smiles tightly. “I don't think this exercise was exactly made for me in mind, doctor.”

It's so blunt that Taemin almost cringes, but it also answers a lot of questions. Minho doesn't just forget some stuff. He forgets everything. That's... that's a lot. Taemin doesn't know how Minho stands it, except that he thinks maybe he'd like to forget sometimes too. Just not to that extent. Never to that extent.

“Well,” Key says suddenly, sharply, from across the circle. He's looking at Minho now, whatever emotion he'd been reacting to with Taemin long gone. There's something sad in his face now, as he looks at Minho. Taemin doesn't know if he's thinking of this morning or something else, but Key probably has something of a right to be apologetic right now. Instead, he stares at Minho for just a moment longer before turning to the doctor. “That's everybody. Are we done? No offense and all, but I don't think we're going to get any more buddy-buddy today.”

Dr. Kwon lets out a sigh, that same one of exasperated but infinite patience. “Thank you everyone for sharing,” he says, ignoring Key's jab. “I think that's going to conclude group for today, and I'll see you all Monday. I hope you all make Taemin feel welcome over this weekend.”

Taemin feels a twist in his stomach. Welcome. He wonders if he’ll ever really feel welcome here at all.

--

Next

#shinee fanfiction #shinee fic #Jongtae #Minkey #Onkai #my writing #heartbeat

[dibidibifiction]

Criminal In My Mind: Chapter 3

Warning: foul language

Pairings: Choi Minho x Reader; Kim Jonghyun x Kim Kibum (side) Word count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist Chapter 2

Y/N

I just received a phone call from Minho to notify me that Taemin has been brought to the hospital. I’m now in a cab on my way there, out of breath from being anxious and in a hurry at the same time.

I just told that kid not to do something stupid!

Minho told me that Taemin’s going to be okay but what I’m worried about now is keeping this a secret. I hate lying to Mr. Lee.

So, that’s his name. Minho, like from the book series, Maze Runner. He didn’t sound hostile at all when I talked to him on the phone. He actually sounded reassuring and respectful.

I arrive at the emergency room and immediately catch the sight of him as he stands up to approach me. 

“Hey, thank you so much for being here for him. I’m Y/n. Where is he?”

“Right in there,” Minho leads me to Taemin. Although I find myself staring at his back for a second, eyeing his features briefly, as I’m quite astonished by his obvious handsomeness.

I walk right up to Taemin, almost teary. “What happened to you? I thought I already told you not to do something stupid!”

“It’s not my fault, Noona. My girlfriend’s ex and his friends got back at me for stealing her, which is not really the case at all. She came onto me!”

This kid is so adorable that he never fails to make me laugh. I could never be mad at him. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thanks to Minho Hyung. He would’ve fought off those guys if they hadn’t run away fast enough. He and his pretty girlfriend helped me and rushed me over here. For free I might add.”

I turn to Minho, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I promise we’ll pay you back.”

He chuckles charmingly, “There’s no need for that. Anyway, I have to go. I have to drop my mom off at the airport. Taemin, stay out of trouble.”

We watch him walk away. He does look cuter when he smiles. The chuckle with his deep voice was just a bonus. For some reason, he has this flaming charisma that I find sexy. With his muscular manly figure showing off despite wearing a loose shirt, and his long arms and legs. I wonder how tall he is. And that ass? I mean no disrespect but fuck! 

“Was that really his girlfriend that drove you here or was it his mom or his sister?”

“I think she’s too young to be that guy’s mom. Why, do you like him?”

“I didn’t say that!” My voice sounds so high and loud that I seem defensive.

“Oh, please. You’re already smitten,” he continues to annoy me. “Not only is he hot and handsome, but he’s really kind, too. God, I’ll be all over that guy if I was a woman. Or gay.”

I laugh at what Taemin says. Regardless of how ridiculous that sounds, I’m afraid that he might be right.

. . .

Days have gone by after that Taemin incident. It’s finally my day off tomorrow! I have over an hour left before my shift ends.

I will finally get to see Kibum tonight, who I haven’t seen in a long time. We barely hang out anymore ever since he moved out of town with his own family for a bigger place. 

He’s been my best friend since junior high school. I had no friends back then because everybody’s too uncomfortable to speak to me after I survived the abduction. He was the new kid in school. One lunchtime, I was having trouble pumping ketchup onto my plate because my limbs were too small and weak. He then helped me out since he’s surprisingly strong for quite a skinny guy at the time. Since then, after we first shared our love for ketchup, that’s how we came to be. We also went to the same college and got the same undergraduate, only he carried on his studies to pursue dermatology and I finally got to be a florist.

Speak of the devil, “Kim Kibum!” I answer my phone.

“I hope you’re carrying some aspirin with you because we are gonna party until roofs blow off!”

“Who are you kidding? You hate clubs,” I get confused at first but immediately realize he’s just being sarcastic.”

“The fuck I do. I just thought I could trick you. But we’re still drinking. I went into clubs so rarely in college but now, I have three-year-old boy twins and a fiancé, who I met in one of those clubs,” he laughs too loudly. Funny for someone who hates noisy and crowded places.

“I know. I was there the whole fucking time! Is Jonghyun Oppa coming, too?” I ask him.

“Uh, no, he went home to his mom with the boys. It’s just a few neighborhoods away from where you are. He might come and join us tomorrow morning.”

“That’s fine. We can just meet up at SM Café.”

“Oh, are still friends with that Jinki guy? I thought we didn't like him anymore.”

“Hey, come on, we only went out for a week. We didn’t even sleep together. Plus, he is a perfect gentleman, although sometimes annoying because of his jokes. But there’s no reason to fall out.”

“Does he still flirt with you?” he asks me teasingly.

“Yes, be right there,” I tell a customer who has just walked in and called out for assistance. “Hey, I gotta go. I’ll see you later, honey. Love you. Bye.”

I hang up and instantly turn to the customer by the vases section of the store.

After almost an hour discussing kinds of soil, pots, and vases with a customer, Mr. Lee comes in from the back of the shop, “Mr. Lee, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I live here. My apartment’s right upstairs,” he’s frowning like an old man who screams at children who wouldn’t get off his lawn.

I laugh at this hilarious sarcasm. “I mean aren’t you supposed to go to the dentist this afternoon and get your teeth fixed?”

“I changed my mind. I’m happy the way my teeth are,” he tells me while smiling widely. “By the way, I hired two new florists to cover for you as you arrange flowers your way all day long. I know how swamped you can be handling customers, deliveries, and bouquets all at the same time. Plus, we have more than enough money to pay for extra help thanks to you. So, congratulations, you’re my new head florist!” 

“No way, really? Thank you so much, Mr. Lee!” I jump up and down out of glee. I almost hug him.

“No problem. Oh, and you get a pay raise. Now get out of here. I got this,” he insists, patting me on the head.

I go home to take a shower and put on some more attractive clothes and bold, glam makeup because I don’t know where Kibum and I will end up going, just like the old times. Even though we didn’t often go to clubs—well, he didn’t—we still drank together at our dorm, resto-bars, and barbeque places. I always wanted to be ready to live this single drunk life in case some sexy guy wants to get on with me.

This time I take the bus to SM café and by the time I arrive, I catch Kibum’s car just pulling in for parking. I go ahead, walking into the café, and get relieved that it’s less crowded than it was this morning. I take a seat at a table by the window as Jinki approaches me. 

“Hey, is your shift almost over?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I get off at-”

“Oh, my God, Kim Kibum!” I scream and suddenly rush over to Kibum and give him a long tight hug. “I missed you so much!” 

Last time I saw him, his hair was pastel purple and longer. Now, it’s blonde and shorter, almost to his roots. I swear this man pulls off every single hairstyle and every single outfit. I can never understand how he does it. There’s not a day when he is not gorgeous.

“I missed you too, babe!” We’re screaming like a couple of teenagers who are so ready for spring break.

“You remember Jinki?” I introduce them then they exchange their hellos.

“What can I get you guys?” Jinki asks, as merry as always.

“Iced black coffee for me and…” I look to Kibum.

“Iced low-fat latté and a piece of red velvet cake for me. Thanks!”

“Great! I’ll be right back with your orders. Nice to see you again, Kibum.”

Kibum smiles and waves at Jinki as he walks away, grabbing empty trays from recently left-out tables. 

“He got cuter, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Then what are you doing? Get on with it. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not the kind of guy I get attracted to. You know what I mean? It’s just...” I go on and on trying to explain, listing down reasons but nothing I say seems to make sense.

Kibum stares at me for a second with a wrinkled forehead and slightly parted lips. “I literally didn’t get a single thing from what you just said.”

“Well, there’s this guy I’m hoping to-”

“Here are your drinks and one red velvet cake. Hope you enjoy,” Jinki is back, placing our beverages on the table.

“Thank you so much!” Kibum exclaims.

“I get off at nine,” Jinki turns to me.

“That’s soon. We’ll just wait for you,” I tell him. “We have a lot of catching up to do anyway.

“Alright, as long as you guys don’t mind. We can drink here if you want. I still got several bottles of soju left from when my friends came over last week.”

“Sure, that would be great! It’s less trouble,” Kibum tilts his head toward my direction, referring to me and the many nights I got into trouble in every college bar.”

. . .

I start hearing familiar voices in the background fading in.

“Right, right. So what happened with you and the girl?” I hear Jinki laughing.

“What do you think? I haven’t seen her ever since. I decided to take the twins with me since she didn’t want them. Then Jonghyun and I eventually got back together and worked everything out the way...”

I open my eyes just to realize I passed out. I look around, we’re still at the café. I look at my watch, it’s almost midnight. 

Holy shit, have I grown weak? I scold myself. It's only been two hours since we started drinking.

When I was in college, I didn’t stop drinking while the sun was still hiding. I could go all night partying even with people I didn’t know, as long as they didn't sell drugs or dressed up as a cop. What happened to me? Maybe I’m too old for this shit.

“There she is!” Jinki is laughing at me.

Just after a few minutes, I still crave for a fun night so I resume drinking and join the boys. Turns out the night is still young and the fun is just continuing on. 

Would you look at that, I’m not too old for this shit after all!

Chapter 4

#ktm cimm #ktm cimm c3