CHAPTER 5

“Kim Taehyung,” Jimin said firmly into the phone pressed on his left ear, “You do not have to buy a bed for him! Stop spoiling Jordan!”

There’s a scoff and a static sound from the other line. “What? You get to buy him fluffy bed and I don’t? This is an act of being unfair, Jimin. I do not sign up for a friendship like this,” was the dramatic answer from Taehyung.

Jimin can’t help but sighed in defeat, already knowing he wouldn’t be able to win this topic. “I know you have tons of money for this but if you spoil Jordan too much I’m afraid he wouldn’t want to come back to my place—“

“That’s good then!” And a very annoying chuckle. “Kidding. You know I’m not like that. I just want him to be comfortable whenever he sleeps over.”

“Okay, whatever.” Jimin rolled his eyes, shuffling out of his bed. “Just make sure you teach him how to use his litter box, okay? I don’t want to hear you screaming about cat’s poop and piss tomorrow.” And then he’s out of his bedroom. “Are we clear here?”

There’s a meow and Taehyung’s coos. “Yes, sir. Got it.”

“Good—“ Jimin was about to turn to the kitchen when he heard the apartment door opening and closing. And a second later, Jungkook was in the view. “I’ll call you later. Bye.” He heard a distance shout of I love you from the other line before he ended the call, staring onto Jungkook who’s standing parallel to his spot and staring back at him like deer caught in headlight.

“Oh, you’re back, Jungkookie,” he says, confusion painting his face when the younger boy roll his eyes. “I hope you ate though ‘cause I didn’t cook dinner.”

He shrugs when the younger didn’t answer. He walks over to the kitchen, getting a carton of milk from the fridge. He heard footsteps from behind him and saw Jungkook maneuvering himself to the cupboard, getting Jimin’s favorite slim tall glass and placing in front of him. Confused, Jimin put his phone on the countertop and pour himself a cold freshmilk, subtly watching the boy from the corner of his eye.

“You’ve been busy,” he starts when the silence stretched far too long.

Jungkook crosses his arms, leaning his side against the kitchen table and facing Jimin. “You’ve been busy,” he echoes, monotonous.

Jimin gulped down his drink, consuming almost half of it. “Ah, dance practice’s been hard on me.” Jungkook nods his head once so Jimin assumes he has to continue. “Where have you been? You’re out for a week. You didn’t tell me.”

“I was with Jin hyung’s. He’s out of town for business and asked me to look after his pad. I agreed,” Jungkook answers, face uninterested but tone almost as if it’s scripted. He sounded like on autopilot. Like the words have been rehearsed for a hundred times.

But Jimin chose to let it slide, nodding his head in understanding and gulping down the last half of his drink. He moves over to the sink, washing his dish and putting it on the dryer. He heard his phone buzzed against the countertop, looking over his shoulder and seeing Jungkook pushed himself towards it and peering on the screen.

“Who’s that?”

“Taehyung hyung.”

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Taelicious: Jordan’s asleep. I am going to sleep, too. Goodnight, Jiminyoongi.

Taelicious: HAHAHA! Don’t kill me.

Taelicious: I’ll see you tomorrow with chocomint coffee!

Taelicious: I love you biffles. Mwa mwa :*

“Taehyung hyung knew that that Jordan is ing asleep.”

“Taehyung hyung knew. How the he knew? Is he sleeping with him?”

“No. That ing Jordan’s gotta be just a small animal or insect or something or else I’m going jail after murdering a foot-face .”

Jungkook’s screwed; he legit cannot sleep because of those messages. He should’ve not read those. He should’ve not. But damn he was curious and he’s a man on a mission. The whole night, he didn’t see any sign of pet in their shared unit. The whole pad was dead silent except for the soft music that’s coming through Jimin’s room–muffled by the door—that helps him sleep soundly at night. He made sure Jimin was already dead to the world when he muted the television, slipping off the couch and secretly, silently investigating every nook and cranny. He sees the wall clock in their living room, short and long hands striking 12 and he still hadn’t see any pet around.

He stands straight from where he’s crouching in front of the sink cabinets, back aching and wincing at the sound of his knees’ joints cracking. “This is ridiculous.”

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“Let