Patches of blue peep from where the clouds have met and piled near the window facing west, the faint ticking of the clock being a faraway string attached to reality.  

The lady at the reception chews at the back of her pencil idly, admiring her nail paint. There’s a faint tap on the desk.

“Welcome to the Seoul Academy of Taekwondo. How may I help you?”, she speaks up in a manner that's involuntary, offering her attention to the two men standing tall in front of her.

Namjoon smiles politely, “Hello. I’d like to know the procedure for registration.”

She immediately turns to the computer screen, nodding, “Yes sir. Your name?”

“Park Jimin”, a shorter male blurts, and almost apologizes, “Ah actually I’m the one registering.”

“It’s fine. Beginner classes?”, she looks up at him. Jimin offers a binder, “No, I’ve been transferred here from the Busan Institute. I’ll be signing up for the black belt classes.”

She takes the blue file and flips through the scans of certificates and awards. She nods. “Oh alright. There are classes available for seniors on weekends.”

Namjoon interjects, “Actually, we’d like to go for the best instructor here. I’ve heard they’ve hired a gold medalist.”

“Ah!”, she laughs, “Of course, of course. He is very picky about his students but I am sure he wouldn’t mind a rank holder from Busan. It’s his hometown too, after all.”

Jimin shares a glance with Namjoon, and nods. Namjoon proceeds to talk to her about the payments and timings while Jimin takes a stroll of the lounge room. There are floor to ceiling windows and the park with the artificial fountain is visible from the inside. He’s trapped between four walls of glass yet he could feel the cool breeze that might be blowing outside, rustling leaves and swaying flowers. It’s a scenic location and Jimin almost doesn’t miss home too much.

“Excuse me Mr. Park, you can start your classes today if you want”, the lady beckons from the desk and he hurries over, nodding. “He’ll take the measurements for your uniform and show you the room. The instructor should arrive in an hour.” Jimin follows the helper who’s been standing there, waving Namjoon goodbye. He walks into the elevator and is led to the seventh floor. There are a number of rooms and he could see from the glass panel the full-fledged activities going on in each. He is taken to the boy’s locker and then offered a few sets of uniform. He goes to a booth to change and comes out wearing that one that fits. His neatly combed hair was tousled in the process and he kept brushing his blonde fringes aside with the back of his hand. 

His classes were the last of the evening and he could already see the purplish-blue tendrils of the sky envelop the sun, seeking out the stars that had remained impatient and hidden all day. He walks into the room at the end of the corridor. It’s rather large and rather empty, with only about four more boys lifting and pounding wood or each other. Every movement stops though, on his arrival, and he uses this span of attention, “Hello, I’m Park Jimin. Nice to meet you.”

A tall lanky boy walks up to him wearing a full smile, face glistening with little beads of sweat. “Hello, Jimin. I am Hoseok. We look forward to getting to know you. But why dont you go warm up for now?”

“Yes”, Jimin walks towards the back of the room where another boy, short and lithe, somewhat like his own frame, was stretching and exercising. Jimin joins him, throwing himself into the known routine. He notices Jimin but chooses to keep quiet and Jimin doesn’t seem to have a problem with that. The lesser the distraction, the better.

Time ticks away and the door swings open, a tall and broad boy walking into the class. He seemingly emulated immense masculinity, and by the way even the birds held their breath to maintain the sudden silence- Jimin could roughly guess it’s his instructor. Namjoon wasn’t lying about the looks, Jimin backtracks inwardly, for if he wasn’t in a Taekwondo uniform Jimin probably would’ve taken him to be an idol.

Everybody bows and Jimin stands hidden somewhere behind Hoseok and another broad-shouldered boy. 

“I heard we’ve got a new trainee joining us”, he beams and his lips tug into a fond smile, “Could you please introduce yourself?”

Jimin leaves his refuge coyly, walking up to the front and exchanging courtesies.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook and I expect great things from you this term.” Jimin feels both the professionalism and the passion in his voice, the biting feeling of imploration too. And Jimin is not exactly the best when it comes to handling pressure. 

Sparring session starts soon and there’s individual practice at first. Jungkook crosses his arm over his chest, pointing out and correcting every slacking movement that comes to sight. He’s critical and he’s curt- he knows what to aim for and how to achieve it. 

His gaze soon falls on Jimin and he takes this time to actually observe him. 

The shirt that wraps and ties around his rather thin waist is actually loose near his shoulders. He could be passed off as lean and petite but at the same time, one could trace the strong muscles of his back underneath the fabric. Jungkook notices his movements follow more precision than strength, that he delivers each hit with calculated power. What brings his precision to more prominence is the control he has over his body, how he tips over but regains balance on his toes.   

A reflex, suspiciously, someone with an inclination towards ballet would have.

“Alright everybody. Team up”, Jungkook claps his hand once and the helter-skelter boys turn to face each other. The four pair up in twos, and an out of place Jimin looks around when abandoned.

“You”, Jungkook points to him and then to the space in front, “Come here.”

Jimin obeys and comes to stand in front of him. The height doesn’t differ greatly, but yet is enough to be evident. Jimin takes his time to look up at the other, eyes clear and focused. 

Jungkook grabs Jimin’s upper arms, “Fighting stance.” Jimin straightens at the command, puffing his chest out a little. Jungkook then presses his hands onto his waist and nudges him to follow. Jimin repeats but his grip isn’t as tight as it should be. Jungkook gives his waist a warning press, “We’ll try out a roundhouse kick to ground the opponent.” He positions himself so his back s outward and his face leans inward. “Pivot, snap, land.”

There’s a quick countdown and immediately after, there are thuds on the ground. The stronger opponents sit on top of the weaker ones triumphantly.

Jungkook, however, keeps staring at Jimin who’s now under him.  

He’s pinned to the mat, Jungkook’s legs on either side of his stomach. He’s writhing, a faint tint that creeps up to his face when it gets hard to breathe. Jungkook’s grip is not that tight but Jimin did not retaliate in any form. He was scooped up and slumped down and Jungkook didn’t even invest the energy that he thought he might have to. He eyes Jimin in a way that descends both curiosity and reprimand, “Why didn’t you deflect? It’s a basic attack.”

Jimin keeps quiet and Jungkook already bears this abject distrust in his seemingly pure face. He weighs down on him and Jimin squeaks under the pressure. “I think I’m asking you something!”, Jungkook is vocal about his anger but Jimin befriends silence. 

Jungkook hovers over his frame for a few seconds more before standing up. “Class dismissed.”

Hushed whispers and dragging footsteps fade outside the door. Jimin brushes his uniform and stands up. He walks to the door but there’s a firm hand latching around his elbow, “Not for you.”

Jungkook pulls a surprised Jimin to the centre. He holds his gaze, jaws clenched, “Stance.”

Jimin does and Jungkook eyes his posture. He reaches to lift his chin, push his chest inward and lower his arm a little. 

“Pivot, hook, ground.”

Jimin’s leg comes dashing through and Jungkook grabs his calf and gives it a solid pull. Jimin falls on his back and Jungkook pins him down again, muffling a growl. “Inattentive.”

It keeps going and Jungkook throws Jimin down everytime. Jungkook changes stance and even manages to pin him to the wall after blocking a strike. Jimin kept missing commands and his back ached from the manhandling. Jungkook had his wrists in his grip, body struggling to free itself. 

Jimin is panting and clearly out of breath but Jungkook traps him in a kabe don against the wall. He notices how small Jimin’s hands were under his grip and how red his neck was from the exhaustion. Jungkook keeps yelling and keeps trying get a rise out of him but Jimin just avoids eye contact, heaving air with an open mouth. 

Jungkook lets go of him and Jimin crouches at the lack of support. Jungkook is figuratively a ball of fire, fuming and uncontrolled. 

“I’ll tell you one last time. Fight or quit. If I were you I’d make the better choice and not show up again.”

Jungkook leaves and Jimin rests a hand over his chest.

Breathe in breathe out. Breathe in breathe out. Breatheinbreatheout.

Jeon Jungkook is a man of many capabilities and one of them is to unnerve even the steel-hearted. 

It comes at an obvious shock when Park Jimin shows up the next weekend too, soft hair falling across his forehead and lean legs throwing kicks in the air. He moves almost too gracefully that goes against Jungkook’s general liking.

Jungkook feels his blood boil, disgusted how he did not take heed of the note and just left. Jungkook had already spent the whole week pondering upon someone he has barely anything to be concerned about but he just could not digest how naive Jimin is. 

Jimin feels Jungkook’s fiery gaze prickle his skin and even he would’ve turned coy under his effect. He continues to practice and kicks the paddles fervently. Taehyung looks at his discolouring face worriedly, offering a towel when Jimin takes a break. Jimin looks up at Taehyung and smiles a smile that is not too forced.

“Don’t let his perfectionism get to you. He’s young and he gets riled up quick. Sure he’s going to make things hard for you but you should keep trying anyway”, Taehyung had hummed from the booth next to Jimin’s sometime last week.

Jimin could foresee things worsening and it was no better for Jungkook. He called the boy out in every class henceforth, tackling and pinning him down until the mat under him felt like a place where he belongs. Somedays he would press onto his waist harder, somedays he would spit and growl, somedays he would make him stay back. Weak, Jungkook curses in his mind. Doesn’t know the difference between being ambitious and being stubborn.

But if anything, Jimin was just as good at being determined. 

He’s in the front and everybody’s struggling. Golden trainee Seokjin has Hoseok mashed to the ground and a tall Taehyung manages to ground Yoongi after a negotiable struggle. Jungkook stares directly at Jimin, who in turn keeps averting his gaze today. 

“Look at me. You won’t be able to see the attack.”

Jimin tries to keep his gaze on Jungkook but it flickers away soon. Jungkook is at his edge and he blatantly tugs at Jimin by the waist, towering above him and watching him squirm in his grapple grip. Jungkook tries to still him but a petulant Jimin keeps prying himself away. “Too tight-”

He barely chokes it out when Jungkook yells, “LOOK AT ME!”

Jimin yelps and jumps in surprise, curling in on himself in a defensive measure. Jungkook’s hands never leave Jimin and he takes the ill-prepared latter to throw him onto the mat again, landing atop him and locking his wrists down. Jungkook’s expression is livid and Jimin’s chest rises and falls in a nervous cycle. 

There’s abrupt silence and then feets scramble up. Jimin stares at Jungkook with wide eyes, how his hair is swept to the sides and his lips are parted, brows furrowed and the vein of his neck throbbing visibly. He looks pissed off and Jimin is pretty sure Jungkook could feel his stomach tense under his gaze. 

The more he writhes the more Jungkook shifts his weight towards his core, leaning over and staring him down. Jimin could almost feel Jungkook’s breath on his face and on seeing him struggle desperately, Hoseok and Taehyung pull Jungkook up. “Enough now. You’re hurting Jimin.”

The air is taut and the room silences. Last rays of the sun settle into the dark arms of dusk and the moon peeks ever so slightly in homecoming.

Jungkook lets the water run down his cheeks and then his chest, relaxing the constricted muscles of his abdomen. The vapour of the warm water surrounds him in a foglike cocoon and he fumbles around for the bottle of bath gel. He cards a hand through his hair, brushing it back and wiping the running water off of his face with his palms, opening his eyes wider and searching for the bottle. The stand is empty and he groans because he forgot to bring it with him again. It's a pain bathing in shower stalls because carrying your own soap is almost a burden than a luxury. 

There's a faint click in the stall next to his, the follow-up sound of the shower and soon, a soothing hum that drowns with the water. Jungkook sighs, knocking on the wall between the two stalls and raising his voice over the water, "Hey, got any extra gel?"

There's absolute silence for a moment and Jungkook was almost beginning to think he went unheard when a bottle peeps from over the wall. Jungkook reached out to grab it but the hand let go and it fell right on his head, sliding down to the floor. "Ouch, ", Jungkook rubbed the top of his head, crouching to grab and bottle and he almost heard a chuckle.

He lathers and rinses, and not bothering to repeat, walks out drying himself. He wraps the towel around his waist, pacing the extended expanse of the shower area with the bottle in hand. The other stall clicks open and Jungkook whips his head around to see. 

Jimin emerges with a towel around his waist too, a white shirt and barely dried strands of blonde locks falling across his forehead. He had a healthy blush spread across his face post the warm shower, a soft primrose scent that- Jungkook emitted as well.

Jungkook looks at his hand and then at Jimin. His gaze is lost somewhere between the boy and bottle, thoughts swirling in space, and he doesn't even notice Jimin trying to take it from his hand. Jungkook unintentionally keeps moving his hand and Jimin keeps following it around for the sake of his damned bottle. Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance and enfolds his fingers around Jungkook's biceps to still his hand. 

Slave of reflexes, an off-guard Jungkook is surprised by the sudden hold and ends up tackling Jimin by the arm, taking longer steps on the cold and slippery marble until Jimin trips and his back hits the wall. 

It's only when Jungkook realizes what he had done and what position they now stand in that he actually looks at the other. Jimin doesn't struggle or writhe but inhales laboured breaths, like Jungkook's presence somehow suffocates him everytime. Jungkook has this sudden urge to close the distance and it results in Jimin placing a hand over his bare chest, ignoring eye contact but putting no force into his palms either. Jimin's fingers felt like fire against Jungkook's skin and he could feel his ribs turning to ashes. Trouble, Jungkook reminds himself, he's trouble to you.

 The hand over Jimin's upper arm slides down to his waist and rests there. Jimin's gaze that was craned towards the other side finally meets Jungkook's firm one, dark eyes that search the other's face in scrutiny. Jungkook sees Jimin recoil his hand, reach for his head and settle a small tap. Jungkook let's go of him immediately, groaning at the inflicted pain. Jimin laughs through his nose, covering his mouth almost immediately when Jungkook darts a murderous glare towards him.

Jungkook throws the bottle on the basin counter and this time when he get's hold of Park Jimin, he makes sure he's gripped on tight. He's pinned him down and up against walls enough in the past classes to memorize his cologne and the angle of his face, the curve of his lips and the shadow of his lashes. He has a hand secured around his waist, the other on the cold wall and the way Jimin has his head lowered, looking small and lithe in his arms, it's almost... enticing.

Jimin looks up at the little bump on Jungkook's head, pursing his lips to repress a chuckle. Jungkook catches this and lowers his voice, not sure if he's angry or aroused, "So you think that's funny, huh?"

Jimin snags a lip between his teeth, looking up at him in more awe than fright. The dim bathroom lighting shone bare on his handsome features, somewhat in contrast to the ever-burning fire in his eyes that seemed to never quench. Jungkook is metaphorically a spotless sheet but he has now found a stain that he keeps rubbing with his desperation, daubing it until it smears all over him. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Jungkook stills when he hears the words, combusting his already there handhold of tenacity. 

Jimin is nice, in simpler arrangement of emotions. He is nice so he acknowledges Jungkook without detest in his gaze, he shows up every week and he waits for him in the centre of the mat. He brings coffee for everybody and manages to be friends even with the ones who consider themselves royalty. He practices and he holds Jungkook's gaze when it falls on him. He's hypnotic, too, and he knows that well.

Jungkook let's go of the wall and touches Jimin's face with the pad of his fingers, tracing lines from his cheek to his chin. Jimin stares back at him but doesn't move. There's this bond between silence and Jimin that Jungkook can't intervene in. Jungkook provokes and Jimin endures, and there's something about his stubbornness that always gets a rise out of the former. It's almost a fight he puts up to prove his resilience, and Jungkook is hell-bent to show him he's just weak.

Jungkook traces a small circle on his cheek, breathing out words, "I don't know what goes on in your head." Jungkook drags his thumb lower, close enough to his lips but over them completely. His skin his soft under his fingers, a little moist too from the settling vapour, "What kind of a game are you playing, hm?" 

Jungkook's gaze falls on his lips; plump, luscious and intoxicating. He presses himself closer to him and it cuts the air between them, with Jimin jerking his head back and breathing with an open mouth. He's flushed and his hands comes to rest over Jungkook's chest again, only this time he's pushing. On another day, Jungkook would've let him test his strength but it's no longer about winning now. 

Jungkook adds pressure to his hold around his waist, forcing a squeak out of Jimin. His eyes course along how his throat is exposed to him, the column of his neck that slopes down to his collarbones and he is tempted to trace a stripe with his tongue and take a bite. 

"You're getting on my nerves, Park Jimin. You're not being good."

Jimin opens his mouth but Taehyung walks in, gasping immediately when he watches the scene unfold.

"Jimin! What's going on?"

Jungkook could feel Jimin's hands pushing harder, a new kind of retaliation he's never faced with him before. Jungkook doesn't loosen his grip, neither does he tear his eyes off the boy in front of him. Jimin's face wears various shades of crimson, stutters and stammers that are only half-audible. Jungkook could hear footfalls that arrive close, the hands over his chest clawing at the skin. 

Taehyung pries his fingers between Jungkook's hand and Jimin's waist, trying to pull the two apart, "Let go." Jungkook snarls almost impatiently, hulking the grip and refusing, "You let go."

Taehyung grasps Jimin's arm and Jungkook's blood runs hot. He wants to deck him but he's in a compromising posture with Jimin. Taehyung looks at Jungkook is mild disbelief and part disgust, "Let go of him, Jeon Jungkook. He's clearly uncomfortable."

Jungkook looks at Jimin who's now a flustered mush, docile in his arms yet nervous in his gaze. He considers that for a moment, retraces his hands from his waist to his arms and propping his chin up.

"Are you", Jungkook a brow, stopping to stare at various points between his lips and his eyes, "Uncomfortable?"

The clawing at his chest stops and the hands fall from there. The skin gets chilled at the exposure to air, a bit red from the little marks that stay behind.

"No."

Jungkook drops his hand, taking a step back. Jimin is a trap and he's falling into it, steadily and surely. He's harmful, he's mysterious and he's tenacious- he's got him hooked and he's reeling him in. 

He let's go of Jimin completely, walking out with a hand threading through his hair. "Go home, both of you."

The given obviousness of the situation does not dissipate in the weeks that follow when Jungkook not only accidentally, but actively seeks Jimin out- no longer a fight of strength but that of decision and want. There's something different about pinning Jimin down now, like it's an assertion of possession. He should've backed out when there was time but now Jungkook has poured gasoline over his fire. 

And it doesn't help when Jimin is always the first to arrive and last to leave, cheeks always roseate when he's writhing under the other's grip. He talks louder when he's not in Jungkook's span of attention and drawls his sugary words to Taehyung just to see that one vein throb near Jungkook's neck. There's chaos in Jungkook's calm and it's undeniably explicit even though it was never meant to be. And every stare that lasts longer, every time Jimin moves at his command, Jungkook has to begrudgingly admit he might just not be as weak as he pretends to be.

The instructors circle around the table, speaking algorithm and evaluation that is rendered useless by Jungkook's lack of interest.

He's looking at his binder, and then at the back of his hand where Jimin had clawed the other week. There are little marks all over him these days. Jimin has recently started to protest against Jungkook's advances and things could not get any more bemusing for Jungkook. He grips his hands or claws at his skin, every little touch would leave him breathless and Jungkook has only just discovered, Jimin looks magnificent when he's desperate. 

"Mr. Jeon?", the chairman breaks him out of his trance, tapping a pen loudly on the table. Jungkook snaps his attention back at him, nodding.

"I don't mean this negatively, but I've heard there's a problem in your class. Park Jimin, if the reports state correctly?"

Jungkook looks at his own binder, performance evaluations written in all green except one that's blotched in red. 

"Yes."

There are a lot of whispers and no one even bothers if they're coherent or not. Jeon Jungkook is a model instructor, there are no failures in his trainee records. Incapable ones are thrown out and slightly lacking ones catch up once Jungkook shows them the consequences of infuriating him. Jimin's case, however, remains debatable. Defamation comes easy in this profession, and Jungkook could already feel gossip brewing behind his back.

"He is a red belt- that too with a stunning record. I wonder where we are going wrong", the chairman says. You're not capable of your job, is what he means.

"I understand. Please give me some time and I'll look into this", Jungkook stands up, bowing to take his leave, "My class is about to begin. So if you'll excuse me."

Jungkook sighs as he walks down the quiet corridor, lazy footsteps that reach the end room. It's drizzling outside and the weather's sultry, Jungkook is hot and bothered and lacking logic in a temperature so oppressive.

His hand curls around the doorknob and he peers from the square glass panel to see Jimin alone in the class, talking over his phone and trying to tie his undid uniform shirt with just one hand. Jungkook walks in and throws his binder to a side with only one intention in his line of sight. Jimin hears the noise and had barely turned around to face a fuming, predatory Jungkook. "Namjoon I'll-"

Jungkook takes the phone and lands it over Jimin's duffle bag. He walks him back to the wall, slamming him against it with his face towards the cold plaster. His chest is pressed flush against Jimin's back, one hand that holds his wrists together in front and another that finds it's allocated place on his hips. Jimin shirt is only half done and Jungkook could peer down at the carve of his chest, rising and falling unevenly. He was breathing into his neck, and Jimin was fighting to free his wrists.

"I kept thinking about you in the meeting."

Jimin stills, scratching the side of Jungkook palms with his nails, "Is that my fault?"

"Isn't it? When you have no right to do that to me", Jungkook whispers and Jimin almost whines. He lets go of his wrists and Jimin starts clawing at Jungkook's neck, arching his back and letting Jungkook slip a hand under the slit of his shirt.  

Jimin bites his lips when Jungkook touches his stomach with the pads of his fingers, feeling the skin and tracing circles. "Then throw me out if that."

"You're doing this on purpose."

"You don't know anything", Jimin almost growls, making Jungkook's adrenaline go haywire, "Let go of me."

"I will, once you stop disappointing me."

Jimin sinks a nail deeper near Jungkook pulse point, pressing himself further into Jungkook's grip, "Can't."

"Tell me what's your problem."

"Can't."

", you're too pretty to be this stubborn", Jungkook pulls his waist and his grazes against his crotch. Jungkook's sporting a hard-on just at the thought of Jimin and it does not help when Jimin lets out a faint whine at that. "You failed the evaluations too. You don't listen to anything, you've got my job on the brink and you're not scared of what I can put you through. Tell me, what do I do with you?"

Jimin throws his head back over Jungkook's shoulder, staring at him from the corner of his eye. The mole under his lips is always so tempting, so is the slant of his jaw and the curved upper lip. Jungkook looks at the faint pink across Jimin's cheek, in turn, the plush lips that are swollen from biting down too hard. The hand under Jimin's shirt comes to cup his throat and Jimin perks up his , moving his hips over his crotch. Jungkook hisses at the bold move, cursing under his breath, "Don't tempt me, Park Jimin, it won't end well."

"They say your temptations defile you."

"Brat", he presses his crotch between the slot of his asscheeks. Jimin gasps at how big he feels against him, clutching onto his nape tighter to not lose balance. Jungkook chuckles hoarsely at how needily the other grinds over his clothes, a puerile yet misleading face that Jungkook has learnt to look past, "You really wanna play this game huh?"

Jimin drawls, "It's not a game when you've already lost."

Jungkook nearly laughs.

"But you're here and your report's in my hand, the chairman's still outside and the ball's in my court", he slips a hand down to the curve of his , palming the soft flesh and snorting at how messy Jimin's moans were getting, "I could throw you down so many ranks, you'd be back to counting jumping jacks with the kids."

"I-"

Jimin doesn't get to comment on that because Jungkook's taken control of the whole situation. Jimin is pliant in his hands and Jungkook takes it to be silent feat. Jimin ushers quick, before the tightness in the air reverts to normality, "Fine then."

"Oh", Jimin's body bends at his commands and he's always so agile, Jungkook couldn't help but sigh, "God, the things that I could do to you."

There's peals of laughter and a parade of footsteps down the corridor and Jungkook immediately let's go of Jimin, turning around to engage himself in whatever was around to look casual. Jungkook busies himself in the pile of wood boards but a certain someone makes the most out of the offered advantage.

Jimin launches himself at him, lean limbs that envelop his frame and smug grin that puts his life at risk, "What's this Jeon Jungkook?" He puts emphasis on the way his hands wrap around his neck, exaggerating every word to put them into the wrong context, "I thought we were playing a game?"

The door swings open and Jungkook tries to pull Jimin away from him frantically. Jimin has his legs locked around his waist, hands flung over his shoulder and face buried in his neck. Not knowing what to do, Jungkook latches his hands onto his sides, falling onto the mat along with him in his hold. He manages to pull his hands away, grabbing his wrists to make it look like he was pinning him down. He leans closer to Jimin, narrowing his eyes in a warning glare, "You're ing lucky I was raised well."

Hoseok rushes to him, yanking Jungkook away by his uniform, "Are you two at it again? Quit it already before someone gets killed!"

Taehyung helps Jimin up who wears a placid expression, winking at Jungkook while running a hand through the smooth strands of his hair.

"Oh no, it's fine. He was just telling me I'm his new favourite trainee."

Everyone in the room stares at him blankly while Jungkook's fists ball at his sides, lips forming an impassive line. 

Trouble, it comes as a slap in the face, that boy's just trouble.

Jimin and Taehyung are the last ones in class today, cleaning up the sparring equipment and fooling around while doing so. Taehyung jumps around excitedly with a kicking paddle, trying to poke Jimin with it. Jimin laughs as he tries to duck from it and Taehyung resorts to his long fingers tickling the sides of the other.

Jimin hated being tickled and it sort of caught him off guard. In a fit, Jimin grabs Taehyungs hand, concentrating force and pulling him away. When the taller male doesn't budge, he hooks an arm behind him. It's unintentional but Jimin coerces too much pressure on his grip, pulling him off and throwing him down. 

Taehyung gapes at Jimin from the mat, wincing when his back started to hurt, "How did you do that?"

Jimin stills, shaking his head, "I don't know!"

He helps his friend get up, massaging his back and carrying his equipments. 

Jungkook watches from outside the glass panel, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking back towards the boy's backroom.

Jimin slides his phone into his pocket, having sent Taehyung home safe and headed back to the lockers to change into his casual clothes. He walks out in his jeans and pastel blue sweater. He traverses the many rows and columns of lockers until he reaches his own to stuff his uniform back in there. 

He didn't expect, though, to find Jungkook sitting on the bench near his locker, playing a game on his phone indifferently. Jimin scans him from head to toe, puzzled. He was wearing a white shirt paired with jeans and timberlands, hair kept messy across his forehead. When he doesn't look up or acknowledge Jimin, he turns to punch in the combination of his locker.

Between his bag and wallet, and a bunch of other stuff he never really needed but ended up keeping, was a bar of chocolate. He eyes it curiously, before picking it up and facing Jungkook. "Is it for me?"

Jungkook avoids him, tapping on his phone screen repetitively.

Jimin scoffs at his act, tearing the wrapper open and leaning against the locker, taking a bite and throwing his head back. He's always had an infatuation with chocolate and this one melted in his mouth, enveloping his tongue in a silky texture and exuding the right amount of sweetness. He smacks his lips noisily, humming at how good it tasted. It's been out in the heat too long so it's already melting, smearing across and under his lips that he cleans up in little laps of his tongue. 

Jungkook watches his blissful face, eyes shut and lips curled into a smile. Jimin was oblivious to everything until Jungkook shuffles his feet, trudges lazily to him and hovers over him wearing a condescending smirk.

Jungkook is quick to scoop down on the other's bar and steal the last few cubes of the chocolate, popping it into his mouth. Jimin bemoans this, hitting his chest lightly, "Hey, that was mine!"

"Yeah well it isn't anymore", Jungkook leans over and Jimin moves away cautiously, avoiding contact. 

"You think you're really smart, don't you", he huffs, crossing his arms and puffing his cheeks. Jungkook watches his fingers peep cutely from under his sleeves, palms a little calloused from the practice. He sighs.

Jimin feels Jungkook run just one finger along his arm, then press his hand on his waist. He doesn't add pressure or try to ram him into the locker; just holds him instead, looking at him through hooded eyes. Jimin feels almost ominous at that, observing Jungkook and trying to read his expression. 

The other free hand comes to rest near his cheek, grazing past the skin. Jimin doesn't know why he had been holding his breath so he exhales with an open mouth slowly, right into the base of Jungkook's neck and keeps following his movements, observing what he initiates. A thumb lingers near his lips and he drops his gaze, albeit hesitantly in the beginning, Jungkook grips his jaw and urges his mouth open.

If anything, Jimin is quick to insinuate the younger, wearing a smug grin and kissing the tip. There's a little bit of chocolate still smeared over his thumb that he into his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and curling his tongue. Jungkook draws in a sharp breath, watching the other in a daze with the erratic rise and fall in his chest. Jimin only stops on his thumb because he pulls it away, replacing it with the index and the middle finger that he on eagerly with occasional sweeps of his tongue. Jungkook knows Jimin is aware of what he does to him. If under his hold, he finds Jimin alluring, then right now he's almost... sinful.

Jungkook pries his hand away and Jimin pants, breaths mixing as he grips his chin. His fingers feel wet, from his spit, and his eyes could bore holes into his skin by the way he was staring at his lips. The fire burns bright in his eyes; a war of give and take because he's both generous and greedy today. 

Jimin's phone buzzes in his pants and he pulls it out and hangs up the call, discarding the metal distraction on the top of the locker. Jungkook discerns his hasty action with narrowed eyes, massaging his waist a little with nimble fingers. "Why didn't you pick it up?"

Jimin traces Jungkook's collar with two fingers, rolling the topmost button between them and popping it open, "Maybe because I want you to kiss me first?"

At his patience's edge, Jungkook presses a hand on his back, pulling him up so that he could mold their lips together. He's ferocious and needy, and Jimin whimpers and writhes in an attempt to match his pace. Jimin's lips feel soft and luscious against his own, the aftertaste of the chocolate that makes him breathless. Jungkook grants small nibbles along his plumper lower lip, sighing into his mouth and relishing every shade of it's red. He urges his mouth open wider, kissing him with teeth and tongue. 

He tugs at his sweater and kisses his jaw, pecking on the underside and trailing the slope of his neck with the tip of his tongue. He settles a bite and the soft flesh, until Jimin realizes he's bruising the area. He puts up resistance, trying to grab Jungkook's shoulders, "No, don't-"

But Jungkook stops only when he wants to, when the desire in the pit of his stomach has simmered, and Jimin's skin is purple and proud once his mouth leaves his neck. He smiles at Jimin, taps a finger over his lips playfully and drags it down his chest. "Aw, aren't you allowed to go home with hickeys?", he chuckles.

Jungkook is so close to him Jimin could hear his heartbeat resonating through his ribs at a ditty pace. He's tempted to kiss the mole under his lip but he's ridden with conflict. "Shut up, you don't know anything."

Jungkook laughs, lowering his head and grazing his nose across his cheek to stop at his ear. He bites right under the lobe, marks it as a sensitive spot when Jimin trembles significantly so. He whispers softly, "I might know more than what you've been giving me credit for."

Jungkook feels Jimin still in his arms, struggling to draw his head back and get a full view of the other's face. Jungkook sees a familiar glimpse of vulnerability reflecting from his gaze, the one that he camouflages with his sought confidence and unfeasible stubbornness. Jimin has the clearest, prettiest pair of eyes Jungkook has ever seen. What's sad is it gives away the truth that his mouth tries to keep.

Jungkook retracts his chest that was pressed bodily to his, inflecting grimly, "Why did you lie, Park Jimin?"

Jimin searches his face, swallowing the uneasy lump at the back of his throat. "What do you mean?"

"I know the documents are fake. You didn't really earn the ranks, did you?"

Jimin widens his eyes, cheeks flushed and pupils that move nervously. And that's when he protests with his real strength, curling his fingers around the arms that were on his hips. Jungkook could feel his own muscles tense; Jimin has a vice-grip that's it's nowhere near fragility. "Let go of me right now. You don't know ."

Jungkook finds that he actually has to put up a struggle to keep Jimin under his control- he's surprised, impressed and, strangely, .

"What I know is you're capable. You didn't earn them but you could've. You're not weak, Jimin."

"I don't care. They can't make me do anything they like", Jimin growls, furious, "I never agreed to keep up my step dad's legacy. I don't care about belts or gold medals."

"I changed institutes so that he doesn't pay the instructors anymore. So that I can't get the belt here, Namjoon can't print out another fake award. So that you", Jimin pushes his chest, "could see how much I at this and throw me out, crush his dream."   

"You don't at this, you can win."

"I don't want to."

"And so let me be", Jimin looks hurt, gaze averted and arms dropped to his sides, voice low and unnerved, "I don't even need you here to me out of pity and get me a fake rank. I'm failing because I want to."

Jungkook immediately reaches for Jimin, breathy mumbles that escape as he tries to hold all of him in his arms, "No- no, . Do you really think I want to you in exchange for a fake rank, Jimin?"

Jimin stares back at him, "What else would you want me for?"

Jungkook watches his unsteady hands sneak up to his collar, curious eyes searching his face and Jungkook doesn't hide his grin this time.

"It's something along the lines of you being here and the time being right, the night being cold and your lips being kissable", he leans closer, whispering against his cheek and slipping a hand under the hem of his sweater, "that makes me want you."

Jungkook loosens his grip just enough for Jimin to retaliate, to leave. It's one of the rare days he has a choice. But Jimin remains quiet, head lowered and lips parted, exhales shaky and ears red. Hands trembling but desires firm. Jungkook presses his waist closer, moving his hip to keep their bodies flush together.

He had his chance to leave but he is Jungkook's now.

He kisses down Jimin's face, on his collarbone peeping from the fabric and tracing the curve of his hip. Jimin locks his arms around Jungkook's neck, whining lowly when his crotch pokes at his pants. Jimin shies away at first but reciprocates soon by grinding down on his clothed . "Don't be a tease", Jungkook hisses through his gritted teeth, reaching down to cup his and move against him, "You know what you do to me."  

He steps away momentarily to his shirt. Jimin holds his gaze, following the movement of his hands until they reach his belt and then he stops him. Jimin walks up to him, raising his heels just a little to reach his face, sweeping away a sweat-slicked strand of hair sticking to his forehead. He kisses him and Jungkook returns the favour eagerly. 

Jimin snags a lip between his teeth, dragging it and tilting his head to give him a light smirk, “Let me take care of you.” Jungkook holds his breath and lets him, because under the sultry lights he's too damn fascinating. Jimin traces a vein along his neck with his tongue, kissing down his torso and pulling off his shirt. He kisses the line of his abs, feeling him tense and flex under his touch. 

He lowers onto his knee when he reaches the buckle of his belt, undoing the hoops and popping the button open. He tucks a hand underneath the pants and his boxers, pulling them down simultaneously that results in his slapping his stomach. Jimin wraps the fingers peeping from his sweater sleeves around the girth and his lips. 

Jungkook moans when he moves his hand along the length, easing him into his touch. He has his head between his hands, eyes glancing down at Jimin who teases the tip of his in kitten , smiling when Jungkook groans messily, before wrapping his glossy lips around his shaft and taking him in at a go. 

Jungkook gasps, reaching down to hold onto the back of Jimin’s head and guide his mouth, bucking his hips until he’s deeper down his throat. Jimin has his eyes closed and tongue swirling, mouth warm and fingers deftly holding on. Jungkook could feel the heat building at the pit of his stomach and he could just come from how ethereal Jimin looked while him off but that’s not just about it. 

He beckons at Jimin to stop and Jimin pulls his mouth away, a single string of spit that stays attached between his lips and the slit of his . He pulls him up by the arm, yanking Jimin’s pants and boxers off so that he’s just in his sweater that covers upto his thigh. Jungkook goes to sit on the bench he was originally on, patting his lap and offering Jimin a seat. Jimin clambers over his thighs quickly, straddling him and gripping his shoulders to balance himself. 

Jungkook fondles the soft fabric whilst kissing him fervently, hands roaming around his body. Jimin rolls his hips just a little and their crotches graze past each other, hurtling off a groan from Jungkook’s lips. 

Pulling the sweater over his head, Jungkook takes in the sight of his lithe frame. Jimin is pliant in his arms and is bruised from his kisses, and an appreciative moan tumbles off Jungkook's lips at his sight. “No wonder you’re a dancer”, Jungkook's open-mouthed kisses along Jimin’s skin reverberate in the silent space, eyes that marvel how his sides curve perfectly into his waist, “You’re so ing beautiful.”

He kisses down his chest, leaving small bites on his skin, a stripe across a and rolling it between his teeth. Jimin whimpers as he tries to hold onto Jungkook, body sensitized to every touch of his. Jungkook kneads his between his palms as he moves to the other nub, on it harshly and circling the with his tongue. 

Jungkook grips his thigh, spreading him further and prodding him with a finger, then adding another, stretching him out. Jimin his bottom lip and whines persuasively, “Jungkookie.”

Jungkook watches him hump his muscular thigh and shift restlessly in his lap. “Mm?”

“I want to ride you, please.”

He laughs, reaching for his backpack that was resting against the bench. He dishes out condoms and some lube, something that’s not even near to being a  workplace necessity but Jimin is too oblivious to question anything. Jungkook tears the foil and rolls it on, pulling Jimin closer and cradling his waist. “I'm all yours baby”, he coos sweetly. 

Jimin greases the lube along his length in firm, full , clambering along him and fitting his shaft between the slot of his . Jungkook lifts him just a little to help him adjust, stretching him out with the tip gently. Jimin feels tight around him and it’s difficult to move. Jungkook kisses him everywhere across his face to ease himself into him, whispering sweet nothings and soothing his back by rubbing circles. 

Jimin lifts his weight and lowers himself onto him, choking out moans and rolling his hips. He’s agile and he accustomes himself to Jungkook’s wide girth, moving slowly but relatively smoother. Jimin moans are melodious and soft, and Jungkook has his head thrown back, eyes blissfully shut. 

Jimin buries his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck as the latter grabs him, increasing his pace as he s into him. Jimin claws at the expanse of skin at his reach, turning Jungkook's chest red and raking another hand through his tousled hair. Jungkook breathes against his lips, capturing them in a shaky kiss now and then, “You feel so good, . God, you’re just perfect.”

The praises whispered into his skin ignite Jimin like wildfire, the sonorous metal of the lockers echoing back how he cries out for Jungkook. Jungkook wraps his own hand around Jimin’s shaft, relieving him in gentle rubs. Jimin feels Jungkook convulse, his stomach turn tight and his throb around every sinew inside him. A shuddering sigh rumbles across his chest when Jungkook feels his heat spread and Jimin fondles his hair, riding him through his . 

The hand rubbing Jimin’s stops and Jimin pants, breathless, looking at Jungkook with pleading eyes. Jimin tries to move against his hand, whimpering, but Jungkook leans forward to nuzzle his neck, ravish a bit of his skin between his teeth and chuckle lightly, “Don’t come so soon, princess. I'm not done with you yet.”

Jimin’s neck is a fiery red and he's heaving for air, “J-jungkook.” 

Jungkook pulls out of him, smacking his once and dragging a thumb along his swollen lips, “You've given me so much trouble. You should be punished, don't you think?”

Jimin mewls into his neck, twitching and turning uncontrollably. Jungkook kisses an earlobe, muttering close, “Be good and let me you against the wall, and I'll make my baby come, yeah?”

Jimin moans his name so loud Jungkook gets a hard on again and he wastes no time in picking up a trembling Jimin in his arms, walking him to one of the walls of the backside. The cold plaster is pressed flushed against Jimin’s back while Jungkook ravages his mouth again, tasting him with his tongue and sighing against him. 

He pushes his own jeans down further until it bunches up at his knees, grabbing Jimin’s wrists and holding it above his head. He lowers his mouth and traverses along his torso, across the curve above his sternum and swirling his tongue around a hardened . Overstimulated, Jimin's  throbs achingly and he keeps curling into an eager Jungkook, fighting his exhaustion. “Jungkook please.”

Jungkook hisses, massaging his thighs and a hand from up there to his . “Ah you're too ing addictive”, his tongue traces sloppy trails along the column of his neck and he turns him by his waist, letting his hands go, “Bend over baby.” 

Jimin cedes, placing his hands on a nearby windowsill and curving his into him. Jungkook kneads the cheeks and places a slap at intervals, settling himself between him and leaning over to press his chest onto his back. He kisses the back of his neck, supporting Jimin by holding onto his lower abdomen so that he doesn’t crumble under the weight.

He moves into him a swift and buries himself to the hilt. Jimin muffles his gasps pressed against the cold surface, bucking his hips to help him move faster. Jungkook savours each moan as he s into him, veins along his arm bulging as he holds onto the entirety of Jimin.

He looks delicate and vulnerable in his arms and this makes Jungkook him harder, move in a ravenous pace so that he could have him all by himself. Break him to pieces and join him back tenderly with each kiss. 

“, you're so tight”, Jungkook spasms again because he’s deeper in this way, has more control and is sinfully lusting. He reaches to rub Jimin’s shaft by his palm, devoting thorough attention to please him. Jimin is barely there anymore, writhing in pleasure and choking out dry sobs as Jungkook continues to caress him fondly, “Is it good?” Jimin nods and calls out to him and Jungkook reaches to grab his arms quickly. Jimin’s body turns to mush and he could feel his insides squirm as he reaches close. Jungkook kisses the shell of his ears, increasing the pace of his hand, “Just a little while longer, bear with me princess. You’re nearly there.”

Their bodies spasm like volts of currents flowing through, hands extending to hold onto each other as they past their . Jimin convulses all over but he's beautiful when he comes, leaning back into Jungkook’s arms and gasping for air to keep him alive. 

They lay deadbeat for a second, supporting themselves by the wall and curling into each other, memorizing grooves and curves of their bodies and placing tiny kisses in silent adoration. 

Jimin is completely drained and fluid, losing balance every so often so Jungkook giggles, propping him up and carrying him to the shower stall. Jimin keeps dozing off over Jungkook’s chest under the shower and the latter has to cleanse and rinse him, sneaking opportunities of attacking his sides with cold water from the sprayer. 

Jimin finally wakes when Jungkook starts to mess around with the water, grabbing the sprayer and getting his revenge on the younger, too. 

The water then runs hot and they kiss a little and hold each other a little, stare a little and intertwine fingers a little. They help each other dry up and change, try to cover up the absolute mess of the locker room and settle their bags. 

"Listen", Jungkook slings his bag over his shoulder. Jimin stops fumbling around his locker, holding a bunch of keys in his hand. He looks up expectantly but Jungkook speaks somberly, standing near the locker next to his.

"There's a final evaluation next week."

Jimin shrugs, jutting his lower lip out and nodding, "Yeah I know. Wednesday. Why?"

"I won't be here but", Jungkook places a hand on his shoulder and Jimin eyes this gesture uncomfortably, "You need to pass and get the rank."

Jimin shoves his hands away, taking a step back and nearly colliding with the open locker, "Wait, what?"

Jimin leans over and taps his chest with the pad of fingers, laying emphasis, "Did you not hear anything I said earlier?" 

Jungkook grabs his hand, frowning when he tries to move away, "I did. I know what I'm saying and I mean it."

Jimin studies his face but it's a blank page, he's showing no underlined emotions and is eerily calm about it. 

"Jungkook- I can't. They'll send me off to the championships as a pawn. I can't do this anymore. You know that right? You understand me, right?"

Jimin sounds so miserable it hurts Jungkook but he keeps it together, pushes just a little more to hold on to his pillar of judgment. He rubs circles at the back of Jimin's hand, lulling words that turn sour the moment it reaches the tip of his tongue.

"You told me not to pity you so I won't. I know you're capable of this and you're a stronger person than I've taken you to be. You need to do this. For the sake of the faith I had in you since the beginning." 

Jimin looks at the ground, enfolding his fingers around the cold ones holding his hand, "Why are you doing this?"

"For reasons I can't put into words right now", Jungkook sighs when Jimin yanks his own hand away, drawing it near his chest and curling himself into a vulnerable ball. He reaches over to hold his cheek in his palm, but failing to make Jimin look him in the eye, "But if you don't get the rank I won't see you again."

"What-"

Jungkook closes his eyes, nudges his forehead gently against Jimin's, "I hope you understand me, too."

Jimin feels his insides squirm and ache, spine chilled as though he has a layer of frost sitting on his back. His eyes sting and fingertips feel lonely and cold.

"I don't. I really don't."

"Then I'm sorry."

There's a brief pause and Jungkook looked regretful almost as soon as he said it. He leaves, footsteps falling across the ground and disappearing into the distance but his words remain as heavy chunks in the air around, latching onto Jimin bit by bit and weighing him down, threatening to crumble what was once sheltered by hope.

  

---

Jimin's mind starts to wander as the catcalls of the trainers turn into a monotonous chant. He's last both in the queue and in the interest of participation, bittersweet in the aftermath of two consecutive failures.

Two of the three determining rounds of the evaluation are over and Jimin failed both. 

Deliberately? Maybe. 

But even so an abstract guilt feathers upon his skin, ever so slightly reminding him of the ticking clock and the padded mattress; both a rival of the currents he has to wade against. 

It's Wednesday and the air is dry, he's parched but his palms keep sweating. It's Wednesday and the cars honk loudly outside, he didn't want to get out of bed today too. 

It's Wednesday and the time's come, Seokjin stands as the opponent in front of him. It's Wednesday and he misses Jungkook. 

He bows and takes his stance. Seokjin is shining as always, the pride of a perfect score dancing over his broad shoulders. Jimin changes his stance and lowers his hand, pushes his chest inward and positions himself more securely than how he's been resorting to so far. He looks Seokjin in the eye, wearing down his guard in muted resilience. 

Jungkook had turned him against himself. A gullible Jimin was told he's strong, and now he just wants to believe he's invincible. 

"Fight!"

Jimin prances upon his frame, more stealth than strength and incapacitates him by locking him down in a forklike hold, turning him over and landing a kick straight on the side of his head. Seokjin falls flat on the mattress at the sudden loss of the balance and the whistle blows.

"Knockout."

Jimin pants, more nerve-wracked than exhausted, holding onto his knees to support himself. Seokjin scrambles onto his feet, a bemused look on his face as he shares a handshake. "That was neat."

Jimin forces a smile and turns to the panel of instructors, gushing among each other and nodding retrospectively. He takes off his guards and helmet, wiping his face and sipping water. One of the instructors stands at the centre and the trainees mob around him, peering into the sheet for their own names. 

"Park Jimin", he calls out and drags his pens horizontally across the page and stops to tick a column, "Pass."

His heart flutters in his chest and he picks up his duffle bag, racing outside the hall and down the corridor. He runs around barefoot, stops at the help desk and ushers hurriedly, "Did Jeon Jungkook turn in today?"

The lady wears a worried look on Jimin's flushed face, shaking her head vaguely, "I don't think so. It's not a working day for him."

With a loose uniform and cold feet, Jimin walks across the corridor to corridor, peeking into door panels. Half of the classes are empty and the building stretches too far and wide to cover aimlessly. Jimin spots a turning when there's footsteps approaching him at a warp speed.

"Jimin, Jimin, Jimin-!"

Jimin barely has time to stop and look as he's swept off of his feet, scoured past the doors and delivered safely in one of the practice rooms. He's squeezed in the frame of the taller boy, hardly being able to breathe but grinning ear to ear. "Jungkookie, you're suffocating me."

Jungkook lets go of him and they both take a moment to catch a bit of air, laughing at intervals on seeing how flustered they looked. Jungkook has a bag slung from his shoulder, a huge white tee and a red beanie. Jimin stares at him fondly; he looks casual, young and happy.

"I went to the hall to look for you but Seokjin said you left already", he pouts, "You give me so much trouble."

His glances down and sees Jimin wiggling his feet. He exasperates, pointing at Jimin, sounding hurt, "Where are your shoes? Your cute little toes are gonna be cold."

Jimin chuckles, extending his hands. "You're honestly such a big baby", Jungkook fakes a sigh, reaching down to grab his thighs and pull him up, throw his legs around his waist and support him against the wall, "It's ridiculous."

Jimin bites his lower lips, looking at Jungkook and hushing his words, "I passed."

Jungkook drops his gaze to his lips, trailing it back to his eyes to give him a sappy, lovestruck stare, "I know. I saw", he buries his face in Jimin's uniform, hugging him tightly, "You did so well. I'm really proud."

"But", Jimin hits his shoulder, "Why're you carrying so much stuff?"

Jungkook draws his head back, smiling guiltily, "I may or may not have bunked college to come see you." 

He laughs and winces when Jimin hits him hard on the shoulder again, "Jungkook! That's not right."

"Shut up, I want to kiss you", he cups Jimin's face in his hands, lowering it to his own and pressing their lips together. He kisses him softly, breaking into a smile often in between. Jimin wraps his hands around his neck, tilting his head and kissing him back until his chapstick has worn off. Jungkook pulls away and nudges his cheek with his nose, beckoning softly.

"Listen to me carefully."

Jimin looks him and blinks, nodding afterwards. Jungkook lets go of his waist and he sinks towards the ground slowly to stand. His feet's warm now and it doesn't hurt too bad.

"After this evaluation, they're going to call you for the championships. There's going to be a preliminary gathering to determine your categories and difficulty levels first", Jungkook turns to his bag, dishing out a familiar blue binder, "And I want you to hands this over to the chairman then."

Jimin takes the file, confused, "But the documents-"

"I know", Jungkook nods, "They're fake and that's exactly what he needs to see. He'll recognize the forged stamps in a second and you'll be disqualified. You won't be able to participate anymore."

Jimin gulps and Jungkook proceeds, "He'll come to me and I'll lead him to Namjoon and your dad. They'll be charged for the fraudulent papers but I'll make sure your name doesn't get too involved."

Jimin waves his hands frantically, "No that cant be! If I get into legal trouble I won't get an admission anywhere else."

Jungkook shushes him, shoving his hand into one of the side pockets of his bag and taking out a rolled up sheet. "Here."

Jimin unfolds it and gapes, squinting to properly focus on the printed words, "You got me an application form of Busan Arts Academy? Are you insane? I can't take this!"

Jungkook groans, pushing it back towards Jimin who was trying to return it, "It's a blank ing form, whether you make it in or not it is upto you. I had to pull some strings but I managed to dish one out", he taps Jimin's head lightly with his knuckles, "Go back to Busan and do what you love. I'll take care of the rest here so that they don't stop you."

Jimin looks at the sheet in his hands and back at Jungkook. His dark, doe eyes were staring back him with equal affection, and for a moment Jimin wants the world to stop and freeze. He buries himself in his shirt, whispering between shaky breaths.

"Thank you for saving me."

Jungkook wraps his arms around him, swaying his body lightly and humming under his breath. Jimin hiccups once and Jungkook lifts his face. "Hey come on, I'd do anything for you", he wipes his cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

Jimin looks up and finds it funny how Jungkook even manages to say that when he's crying himself, too.

He rubs a hand along Jimin's arms, resting his head over his. He takes his hand and threads their fingers together, how Jimin's small, adorable ones wriggle and lock around his long, thin ones to fit perfectly. "Will it be too early", he turns his head to kiss the side of his forehead, "To say that I love you?"

"No", Jimin is close to his chest so his words echo deep down his ribs, etching themselves across his heart, "I love you too."

"God", Jungkook groans loudly, "I'm going to miss you."

He nuzzles his face into Jimin's neck, holding him close to him and muffling almost all of his words, "I'm going to miss your stupid grin, and your annoying fights. And how you sing out of tune in the shower stall and wear everything so big your hands always disappear. How your eyes twinkle whenever you're happy over stupid like a bar of chocolate, and how attractive you look in that uniform. And you look at me and I feel you've given me the world. It's just-"

"Jungkook", Jimin caresses the back of his head, concerned. Jungkook falls silent and lays still, and only seconds later Jimin feels his uniform drip wet, seeping through the fabric and moistening his shoulder. "I'll miss you too."

Jungkook stands up straight awkwardly, rubbing his face with his palms and laughing. Jimin frowns at his reddened ears and nose, and Jungkook dismisses his worry, "I'm fine, I'm fine. Your dreams are more important."

"You can always come back once you've graduated. It's just a short while", Jimin coos encouragingly, "We'll push through."

 "And I'll kick your if you don't come visit me once a while", Jimi raises his fists, hitting him playfully, "Don't forget I've a black belt now."

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back gleefully.

"Your wish is my command."

He slips on his bag again, turning the doorknob, "Let's go. We'll grab that horrid godforsaken pineapple topped pizza that you like."

Jimin trots ahead, mocking offense, "Hey that is a ing delicacy alright!"