1, 2, 3 ,4...1, 2, 3, 4...

 

1, 2. 1, 2. 1, 2. 1, 2...

 

Da da da da dan...

 

“Excuse me!”

 

Jimin straightens from a dip with a jolt, his head narrowly missing the metal bar protruding from the wall.

 

“Um, uh, sorry to interrupt, but are you Park Jimin?” A tall boy in an ill-fitting uniform rubs the back of his neck and rocks on the balls of his feet. The contrast between the deep, steady timbre of his voice and the insecurity in his body language and phrasing is almost comical. It's endearing.

 

“Yeah, that's me.” Jimin crosses the room to grab his towel. “Is there something I can help you with?” he asks as he dabs the sweat off his face.

 

“I'm Kim Namjoon. I recently transferred here and...I guess you could say that I've been referred to you for help.” The boy, Namjoon, shrugs.

 

“You've been “referred” to me?” Jimin tilts his head.

 

Namjoon sighs. “I'm dressing it up. Basically, I at dancing and need to improve. You're the celebrated top student who excels at dance in particular, so I wondered if you could maybe tutor me?” He shrugs again.

 

“Hmmm, it's been a while since I last taught someone,” Jimin hums. “Let me see you dance and we can go from there.”

 

Namjoon blinks. “What, you mean now?”

 

Jimin looks up from fiddling with his boom-box. “Yeah, why not?” he smiles.

 

“Uh, well, when you say it like that...”

 

Namjoon steps inside the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud. He steps into the centre of the room and stands there for a few seconds.

 

“Uh, what should I do?” He looks to Jimin for guidance. “I didn't exactly prepare something for you to judge.”

 

Jimin frowns in thought. “Well...oh, how about you do your audition routine?”

 

“Right, right.” Namjoon nods, rubbing his hands together. “Uh, I don't have the music for that though. You think it will—”

 

“Oh, come on. Stop stalling,” Jimin laughs, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Namjoon grins sheepishly, a matching pair dimples appearing in each of his cheeks. He then begins to sing, lightly swaying on his feet. The English words sound vaguely familiar, but Jimin can't remember the name of the song. The other boy's eyes are closed, but Jimin nods along to the beat of the song in encouragement. Jimin has to admit, Namjoon's voice isn't too bad. Somewhat rough and definitely requiring training and refining, but harbouring some potential.

 

After sufficiently hyping himself up, Namjoon finally begins to dance. At once Jimin can spot his flaws. He lacks control and fluidity in his movements, his footwork is clumsy and heavy, and he's not so much moving with the music as he is desperately telegraphing the choreography points.

 

“Okay, you can stop now,” Jimin calls out.

 

Namjoon stumbles to a halt. “Oh.” He blinks his eyes open. “What's your professional opinion?”

 

“Well, I can definitely see why you came to me for help,” Jimin chuckles.

 

Namjoon's expression goes blank.

 

Jimin clears his throat. “I hope I didn't cause offence. It was just—”

 

“What am I even doing?” Namjoon mutters, his lips barely moving. Jimin only hears him due to the echo effect of the empty room.

 

“Hey, I'm not saying that I can't—or won't—help you,” Jimin says softly. He steps closer to the other boy. “Namjoon?” Namjoon doesn't react even when Jimin places a hand on his shoulder. “Namjoon?” Jimin gives the other boy a gentle shake.

 

At last, Namjoon shakes his head, his eyes clearing. He stares down at Jimin, but still doesn't speak.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

Namjoon opens his mouth, but no words are forthcoming. Jimin watches as he his lips, his eyes shifting in their sockets for a few movements.

 

“I can't sing, I can't dance, I can't draw, I can't play an instrument, and I can't act. Attending a school of visual and performing arts wasn't something I ever aspired to, and I'm only here because of my parents—”

 

“Well, you're here now, so make the best of it,” Jimin says bluntly, his tone just this side of curt. His grip of Namjoon's shoulder tightens.

 

Namjoon's mouth hangs open for a few more seconds before he closes it with a snap. He nods, tension slowly easing out of his shoulder, with it, Jimin's grip relaxing.

 

“Yeah, you're right,” he says, almost to himself. “When can we start?” He ducks his head slightly, looking up through his long eyelashes.

 

At that look, Jimin gets the urge to ruffle Namjoon's hair. Only their six inch height difference stops him.

 

“I think I've got another hour or so before I need to be somewhere, but let me check,” Jimin murmurs as he releases Namjoon to unlock his phone. “Hmm, no, correction: I've got thirty five minutes at the most. But! That's still enough time for an intro lesson.” He claps his hands together.

 

“Okay,” Namjoon's mouth curls in a slight smile.

 

“First thing's first, you should probably remove your blazer and your shoes.”

 

“Huh?” Namjoon looks down the length of his own body.

 

“I think they're constricting you,” Jimin says matter-of-factly. “Then again, I like to feel as free as possible, so maybe that's just my bias talking.”

 

“No, no, that makes sense,” Namjoon replies as he s his blazer and steps out of his shoes and socks. “This uniform is a bit small for me. The office didn't have one in my size,” he explains.

 

Jimin watches the taut white cotton of Namjoon's shirt strain against his back as he bends to put away his shoes and blazer. “Are you wearing an under shirt?”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Namjoon looks back over his shoulder. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Bear with me, but I think you should remove your shirt as well.” Jimin holds his hands up in a pacifying manner. “I mean, it's practically skin-tight,” he laughs.

 

“Uh, well, okay then.” Namjoon blinks. His long fingers make quick work of the buttons and his shirt soon joins his blazer and shoes.

 

“So, let's get started,” Jimin grins.

 

 

 

 

“Hmmm, try it again, but follow through with each move. Like so.” Jimin demonstrates with his own body, softly humming the music under his breath. “Don't chop them up and mash them together.”

 

Namjoon huffs a sigh, the ends of his fringe lifting slightly. He does the sequence again, but even without the music playing, it's clear that he's not following it.

 

“I just end up, like, a whole second off beat when I do that.”

 

Jimin tilts his head. “That's because you're trying to copy the way I dance. Try doing it like yourself.”

 

“Me dancing like myself is exactly the problem,” Namjoon barks out a laugh, shaking his head at himself.

 

Jimin presses the back of his hand to his mouth, trying not to giggle, but he can't help himself. “No, I mean that dance is a very personalised—individualised?—kind of thing. Everyone has their own inherent strengths and style, and the dance is elevated when you play to those strengths and that style.”

 

“So...?” Namjoon pushes his sweat-soaked hair off his forehead.

 

“So, you need to dance like a better version of yourself,” Jimin says simply.

 

“I guess that makes sense.” Namjoon nods. His eyes have that slightly glazed look that means he's thinking very deeply about what he just heard.

 

“Want to take it from the top?”

 

Namjoon opens his mouth, but the reply comes from his stomach.

 

Bruuuuu!

 

“Uh...” Namjoon coughs, his face going red.

 

A laugh bubbles out of Jimin's mouth. He rubs Namjoon's shoulder in reassurance. “Don't be ashamed. We've been going at it for a while, you're bound to get hungry.”

 

Jimin turns and heads for the corner of the room with their bags, stopping in his tracks when he realises the innuendo in that last sentence. He hazards a glance over his shoulder, but Jimin can't tell if Namjoon's face is red from embarrassment or something else.

 

Ping!

 

The text notification is a welcome silence-breaker. Jimin turns his phone off during practices, but he takes the chance to fiddle with his it and check his messages anyway. He's got a few texts from Jungkook, one from his brother, and—quelle surprise—even one from his mother. Jimin opens that one first. He's greeted with a photo of a stuffed dog toy that bears an uncanny resemblance to the one that rests on Jimin's bedside table. It's even missing the same eye.

 

[It reminded me of yours. The patient was sweet like you too.]

 

Jimin smiles softly.

 

“Uh, hey,” Namjoon speaks up at last.

 

Jimin looks up at him.

 

“You're hungry too, right?”

 

“Yeah, I could definitely eat.” Jimin pats his stomach.

 

“You wanna grab something with me?” Namjoon shrugs.

 

“That depends. Are you paying? Hyung?” Jimin asks coyly.

 

“Haha! Uh, yeah, why not?” Namjoon's voice takes on a slightly slurred quality that tends to mean he's been flustered. “By the way, I finally found my old notebook.” The older boy riffles through his rucksack and pulls out a battered-looking book.

“Thanks,” Jimin grins as he accepts it. “This'll really help me with English.”

 

“If you can read my handwriting,” Namjoon says with a wry chuckle.

 

“My mother's a doctor.” Jimin waves his hand dismissively before he starts to flip through the pages. “I'm sure yours can't be half as unintelligible as hers.”

 

“Ha, maybe not.”

 

The scribblings can be too small in some places and some lines are slanted, like they were written while Namjoon was lying down, but the hangul and English letters are otherwise legible. Nearer to the back of the book, English becomes less frequent and the ink is water stained in places.

 

“I’ve walked this long way from home to find my real utopia but, now I got no place to go and now I feel agoraphobia,” Jimin murmurs, running his fingers over the lines.

 

“.”

 

Jimin looks up. “Is this one of your songs?”

 

“Yeah, I...kind of forgot that was in there,” Namjoon laughs weakly. His usually bronze skin has taken on an odd pallor.

 

“Do you want this back?” Jimin closes the notebook and holds it out to the other boy.

 

Namjoon rubs his hand over his mouth, his eyes getting that glazed look again. He looks like he'll be mulling through his thoughts for long time, but Jimin is patient. He lets his hand fall back to his side, his fingers lightly drumming on the hard cover of the book. Through the conversations the two of them have had, Jimin has gleaned that Namjoon is a sharp-witted thinker with a knack for stringing words together. Jimin would very much like to be able to read any poem or song or prose written by him, but not if it makes him uncomfortable.

 

“...You can keep it, but don't look at the back just yet. That's old and it can be, well, .”

 

Jimin snorts lightly.

 

“That's not the first impression I want you to have of my stuff. There's something I want you to see first,” Namjoon says with a determined look on his face.

 

Jimin tilts his head. “What's that?”

 

 

 

 

-----06/05/2016 Fri-----

Hey, you enjoying yourself so far?? I know this isn't your scene...

20:47

 

yeah :]

20:48

 

i mean i've never been to one of these things before. i don't even know what to expect XD

20:50

 

Jimin has seen a handful of artists live, but he's never been herded into the middle of a dimly-lit, densely-packed basement while strangely-dressed people aggressively shout into microphones; previous experiences probably don't apply here.

 

It's almost time for me to go on >0<

21:16

 

AAAAH I'M SO NERVOUS TT

21:16

 

Jimin chuckles, shaking his head a bit as he types his reply.

 

it's only me. you really don't have to be so nervous ;]

21:17

 

Namjoon takes so long to respond that Jimin starts to wonder if he's put his phone away.

 

It's /because/ it's you that makes me so nervous...

21:28

 

Jimin's heart flutter in his chest. He bites his lower lip.

 

nervous in a good way or in a bad way?

21:30

 

“Alright, alright, it's time to show some love to a Busan newcomer whose slick freestyling has already earned him a little fan base here. Give it up for Runch Randa!”

 

Jimin has to use all his flexibility to find the angle at which he can slip his phone back into his pocket. It's been standing room only for the hour or so that Jimin's been here and he finds his body being shifted around by the movement of the crowd as a familiar figure stalks onto the raised platform amid claps and cheers.

 

“Hey, yo, thank you, thank you. It's good to be back again.”

 

Is it the microphone or is Namjoon's voice go even deeper when he's in his stage persona?

 

“It can be intimidating to start over in a new city, but what can I say? I like a challenge. It's a good kind of nervous.”

 

Even with the terrible lighting in the room, Jimin would have to be blind to miss those dimples. The air is thick and heavy, Jimin's shirt plastered to his back from the sweat running down his neck, but Namjoon's words sends a pleasant shiver down his spine.

 

“DJ, drop the beat!”

 

Namjoon's love of music has always been quite clear to Jimin (and probably to anyone who's ever had a five minute conversation with him), but it's quite another thing to see the man in his element. It's amazing to see the confident-borderline-aggressive way he moves across the stage and subsequently moves the audience. It's hard to believe this is the same guy who was practically tripping over his tongue the first time he talked to Jimin.

 

In the middle of his song, Namjoon finally makes eye contact with Jimin. His lips continue to flawlessly spit out the lyrics at an increasingly quick rate and his eyes linger where Jimin stands. He moves on at the end of the verse, but not before sending Jimin a wink and a lascivious smirk.

 

Namjoon's set lasts for about half an hour, the time simultaneously crawling by and flying away. Jimin can hardly breathe by the time Namjoon flashes the peace sign and jumps down from the stage. The next rapper has just begun his first song when Namjoon finally appears at Jimin's side, knocking their shoulders together. Jimin immediately spots the dimple in Namjoon's cheek, but his smile is considerably much more uncertain than it was ten minutes ago. The return of Namjoon's other, more insecure persona makes Jimin laugh despite himself.

 

What? Jimin sees Namjoon mouth beside him.

 

Jimin bites his lip, debates with himself for a second. Before he loses his courage, Jimin stands on tiptoe and tugs the taller boy down by the nape of his neck and gently presses their lips together. Namjoon's lips are soft, though slightly chapped. The contact lasts only a few seconds.

 

For a long moment the both of them stare unblinkingly at each other. There's no point in speaking—the music is too loud for either to be heard even if he yelled directly in the other's ear. Right when Jimin is thinking that their staring is starting to become awkward and slightly creepy, Namjoon's face softens in a smile. Jimin returns the smile, knowing he looks equally dopey. Namjoon's hand slides its way down Jimin's arm to find his hand and he links their fingers, raising Jimin's smaller hand to his lips. Jimin's soft smile morphs into a full-blown grin and Namjoon let's their hands fall but keeps them linked.

 

They spend the rest of the gig like that: hands joined, swaying on the spot as they take in the other performances, but acutely aware of the other.

 

 

 

 

“You sure this is alright?” Namjoon asks for what must be the sixth time.

 

“Yes, hyung, that's why I've invited you,” Jimin says patiently, placing his shoes in the rack by the door. “Why are you so nervous?”

 

“So many things in this place look expensive. And delicate. Not the best combination...”

 

“Well, then, let's head straight to my room. There's no priceless vases or antique furniture in there.”

 

Jimin grabs Namjoon by the hand and pulls him through the living room and down the corridor that leads to his bedroom. A series of thuds make him stop and look over his shoulder. Namjoon is wincing, flapping his free hand in the air. He's also leaning most of his weight on one leg. Jimin opens his mouth, reconsiders, and continues to lead them to his room.

 

“Welcome.” Jimin sweeps his hand in a wide arc.

 

“Huh.” Namjoon blinks.

 

Jimin raises his eyebrows in question.

 

“It's not quite what I pictured,” Namjoon mutters to himself as his eyes rake over the light brown colour of the wall, the Busan IPark flag hanging over the wall-mounted television, and the various chains and rings covering the top of his chest of drawers.

 

Jimin flashes Namjoon a cheeky grin. “Have you been fantasising about my bedroom?”

 

“What? No,” Namjoon says, his words barely leaving his throat.

 

Jimin giggles, crossing the room to throw himself onto his bed. Looking up, he sees Namjoon hovering by the door.

 

“You can sit down,” Jimin smiles.

 

Namjoon hesitates at the edge of the bed, but then he shakes his head and gingerly eases himself down onto the mattress.

 

“So, I've got Netflix, I've got games, what would you like to do?” Jimin kicks his feet on the mattress.

 

“Honestly?” Namjoon asks but doesn't continue.

 

“It's the best policy,” Jimin says softly.

 

Namjoon stares down at Jimin, chewing on his bottom lip. Jimin stares right back, shifting slightly towards the older boy. Namjoon's eyes are glazed, but not in the way Jimin is used to seeing. His gaze stays locked with Jimin and while he's obviously mulling something over, he doesn't look like he's completely lost in his own head. Ever the patient one, Jimin waits.

 

Namjoon releases his lip from his teeth; it's slightly plumper and rosier than usual. He then leans forward, bracing his hands either side of Jimin. Jimin holds his breath. In his peripheral vision, he sees one of Namjoon's hands moving. The pad of Namjoon's thumb caresses Jimin's cheek and he can breathe again. His breath is stolen away when Namjoon's lips touch his.

 

Jimin wastes no time in opening his mouth to and nibble on Namjoon's lower lip. The older boy goes tense. Jimin releases the lip, allowing Namjoon to pull back slightly. Jimin is about to chew on his own lip in worry when Namjoon leans in, his chest pressing Jimin into the bed, and he gently on the skin of Jimin's neck.

 

Jimin gasps, his hand clutching the sleeve of Namjoon's shirt. Namjoon's lips kiss a trail up to Jimin's lips and Jimin eagerly welcomes the warm tongue that asks for entry. As Namjoon into his mouth, Jimin wraps his arms around the other boy's neck, burying his hands in Namjoon's fluffy brown hair. Jimin arches his back, desperate for every inch of his body to be touching the boy above him. Namjoon responds in kind, shifting his body so that Jimin feels something thick and hard pressing against his thigh.

 

“Ahhh, Joon...”

 

There's a hardly single centimetre of space between them now, but to Jimin it still feels like too much. He hooks his right leg around Namjoon's waist and rolls his hips. Namjoon chokes mid-kiss, his body seizing up. Jimin is about to do it again when he finds himself hanging from Namjoon's neck, his upper body suspended from the bed.

 

“Wait.”

 

Jimin lets himself fall back onto the bed, the haze of lust retreating as he takes in Namjoon's stricken expression.

 

“I'm so sorry.”

 

“No, look, don't get me wrong. I mean, it's not like I don't—Like, you're very sweet and good looking and a great teacher and I like you, I just—This is...”

 

Jimin cautiously lifts his hands to cup Namjoon's cheeks. “Too much too soon?”

 

“Yeah,” Namjoon admits, looking strangely reluctant. “I guess I'm just a stupid romantic that believes in things like “the right time” and .”

 

“That's not stupid.” Jimin pinches Namjoon's cheeks. “It's sweet.” He sits up, punctuating his words with a peck on Namjoon's lips. “Oh.” Jimin blinks as a thought hits him. “Was our first kiss sufficiently romantic?”

 

“Sufficiently...” Namjoon trails off, shaking his head.

 

“We could have a do-over if you like.” Jimin is teasing him now.

 

“Oh, shut up. And, uh, could you show me where the bathroom is?” Namjoon winces, not so discreetly covering his groin with his hands.

 

Jimin has to bite his lip to hide his smirk. He then directs Namjoon to the bathroom he used to share with his brother.

 

“Thanks,” Namjoon nods, gingerly stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

 

Jimin retreats to his room in the meantime. Even with his teasing Namjoon, Jimin has to slip a hand down his pants and apply pressure to relieve some of the tension that comes with unfulfilled arousal. Back in his room, he spots a large cardboard box next to his game console. The sight of it tickles the back of his mind until Jimin remembers that Jungkook is supposed to pick it up. Still massaging himself with one hand, Jimin pulls out his phone and opens his messages.

 

 

-----17/05/2016 Tues-----

hmmm i'm not sure yet. just text me when you're ready

08:04

 

i should be done by 6

11:23

 

my drama rehersal is gonna run a long. is half seven alright to swing by your place?

17:20

 

jungkook-ah you can come and get your now

20:07

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Namjoon-hyung, What's up?” Jimin cradles his phone between his neck and shoulder, putting The Handmaiden on pause.

 

“Hey, Jimin, wanna go see Suicide Squad later? There's a showing at five thirty.”

 

“Today? Sorry, I can't,” Jimin says reluctantly. “I promised Jungkook ages ago that I'd start playing badminton with him and today's my deadline to start.”

 

“Awww, that's alright. I didn't know you play badminton.”

 

Jimin has to smile at how cute Namjoon sounds over the phone. He can practically see Namjoon's eyes twinkle as he mentally files away another new piece of information about Jimin.

 

“I used to, was pretty good too, but I stopped about five years ago. Jungkook's only been learning for a year and he's already starting to beat me.” Jimin shakes his head. “We could go to the movies tomorrow evening though.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“Can I bring Jungkook along?”

 

Namjoon laughs helplessly.

 

“Was that invitation to see a movie actually an invitation to make out in the dark?” Jimin rolls onto his stomach.

 

“Yeah, kind of,” Namjoon admits with a sheepish laugh.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Jimin grins. “We can actually watch it with him sometime later.”

 

“You're really underestimating the thinness of the veil. I don't even like comic book movies! But it's in its last week so I figured the theatre would be empty. Trust me, if I actually want to see a movie, I'm not going to wait three weeks, and I wouldn't even see it with anyone else!”

 

Jimin face-plants onto the bed, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Namjoon is so adorable and entertaining when he gets excited and loses control of the volume of his voice.

 

“I especially wouldn't go with someone I'd be tempted to make out with.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Jimin chuckles. “No movie time with Jungkook.”

 

“But tell me when you've finished playing badminton. I'll come pick you up and the three of us can go for dinner. My treat.”

 

“Awww, hyung, you're too sweet,” Jimin coos. “Is that offer still on the table if Jungkook's new boyfriend also tags along?”

 

The line goes silent for a few seconds. “...Well, since you railroaded me into it,” Namjoon grumbles.

 

Jimin giggles, smiling fondly at his phone. “That won't be necessary. Taehyung will probably want to pay for himself and Jungkook. I just wanted to see how far you'd go to look cool.”

 

“Park Jimin...” Jimin can practically hear Namjoon shaking his head. “You are a trip.”

 

“Love you,” Jimin blows a kiss at his phone.

 

The line goes quiet again and it takes a moment for Jimin to realise why. “Namjoon?” he speaks cautiously, sitting up and holding the phone close to his ear.

 

“Love you too.” The words are said so softly, but the warmth and sincerity in them are plain to hear.

 

Jimin sighs happily, his cheek muscles straining from smiling so hard. Maybe he's a bit of a romantic too.