Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jimin was still half-buried beneath the hotel blankets when Jungkook leaned over him again, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before moving to his temple, then the corner of his mouth, each one lingering just long enough to make Jimin smile before another followed. It had been going on for several minutes now, Jungkook apparently content to cover his face in little kisses whenever he wasn't busy running his fingers lazily through Jimin's hair, and Jimin had long since stopped pretending he wasn't enjoying every second of it. He let out a quiet giggle when Jungkook kissed the tip of his nose, turning his face away only for Jungkook to follow him and press another kiss against his cheek. 

“What?” Jungkook murmured, smiling against his skin, and Jimin shook his head, his own smile growing as he looked up at him. 

“ if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're trying to initiate round two.” 

Jungkook paused, his eyebrows lifting slightly, and then his mouth curved into a slow grin. “Well…” he said, dragging the word out as he settled another kiss against Jimin's jaw. “If you want?” 

Jimin laughed and gave his shoulder a gentle shove, though there wasn't enough force behind it to move him anywhere. 

“No. Absolutely not. Neither of us is going to have any fucking energy tomorrow if we do that again.” 

Jungkook let out a dramatic sigh, but instead of arguing, he simply shifted downward until he was stretched partly over Jimin, his chest resting comfortably against Jimin's stomach while he propped himself up enough to look at him. Jimin's fingers drifted absently through Jungkook's hair while the muffled sounds of the hotel carried faintly through the walls around them. Jungkook seemed perfectly content where he was, one arm loosely draped across Jimin's waist, his thumb moving back and forth against his side in an absentminded rhythm, but after a moment his expression changed . 

“Speaking of tomorrow,” he said, looking up at Jimin, “have you ever actually watched a boxing match?” 

Jimin frowned slightly. “I mean, I've watched you at the facility.” Jungkook gave him an amused look. 

“No, my love. I mean an actual match. Like, a real professional fight. Have you ever sat down and watched one?” 

Jimin thought about it for a second before shaking his head. “No.” 

Jungkook's eyebrows lifted in immediate confirmation, “Yeah, I didn't think so.” He shifted slightly, settling more comfortably against him as his hand continued to rub slow circles over Jimin's side. “Okay, then I should probably warn you about something, because what you see tomorrow isn't really going to look like what you've seen me doing at the facility.”

Jimin's expression became more curious as he looked down at him. “How different can it be?” 

Jungkook gave a small laugh. “Pretty fucking different. When I'm sparring with Namjoon or Jaewon, we're training. Sometimes we take it seriously, obviously, and sometimes we're just fucking around and trying to make each other laugh while we're supposed to be working, but even when we're going hard, we're not actually trying to hurt each other. We're working on timing, defense, footwork, figuring out what the other guy is doing, testing things. There's always a point where one of us could hit harder and chooses not to.” His fingers paused briefly against Jimin's side before starting again. “Tomorrow isn't like that. Tomorrow, Seungmin is trying to beat me, and I'm trying to beat him. Neither of us is going to be pulling punches because we like each other.” 

Jimin's eyebrows pulled together. “So what, you're just going to hit each other as hard as you can?” 

Jungkook hesitated for half a second, then nodded. “Basically, yeah. Obviously there's a referee, there are rules, but we're both going to do whatever we can within those rules to put the other guy down. That's the whole point.” 

“And you're telling me this because…” Jimin asked slowly,

Jungkook gave him a look that was almost apologetic. “Because it isn't going to be pretty.” His voice had softened now, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from Jimin's forehead. “There might be blood. Probably not a ton, but there could be. Someone might get a cut. I could get a bloody nose. If I'm really unlucky, I could lose a tooth.” Jimin's eyes widened. Jungkook noticed immediately and gave him a small, sheepish smile. “Okay, maybe don't look at me like that. Missing teeth aren't exactly common.” 

“You just said you might lose one.” 

“I said if I'm really unlucky.” Jungkook laughed quietly, trying to soften the image he'd just put in Jimin's head, but Jimin was still staring at him. 

“Why would I not want to watch?” he asked, genuinely confused, and Jungkook's expression softened further as he squeezed his side. 

“Because you love me.”

The answer seemed to catch Jimin off guard, and for a moment he simply looked at him, the teasing expression fading from his face as Jungkook continued quietly, 

“You're going to be sitting pretty much front row watching somebody whose entire goal is to basically kill me. I know you're going to understand that it's a sport, and I know you know I can take care of myself, but that doesn't mean it's going to be easy to watch when it's somebody you love getting hit.” 

Jimin's heart gave an uncomfortable little twist at the way he said it so casually, and before he could stop himself, he pushed himself upright. Jungkook immediately lifted himself with him, shifting until he was sitting beside him on the bed, his hand still resting against Jimin's side. 

“Wait,” Jimin said, staring at him. “He's going to fucking try to kill you?” 

Jungkook blinked before letting out a short laugh. “Well, no. Not literally. Jesus.” 

“You just said thats his entire goal ” 

“okay well— hurt me To the point where I can't fight anymore,” Jungkook corrected, trying not to smile at the alarm written all over Jimin's face. “That's different. There are rules, There's a referee, If somebody gets seriously hurt the fight gets stopped. It's not some fucking death match.”  Jimin continued staring at him, and Jungkook's smile slowly disappeared when he realized he might have done a terrible job of reassuring him.  “Okay, Maybe I'm freaking you out a little.”

Jimin looked at him in complete disbelief. “You fucking think?”

Jungkook winced, though the corner of his mouth still twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Okay. Maybe I could've explained that better. But I'm not telling you all this because I think you're going to freak out. I'm telling you because you've never seen this side of me before, and I don't want you sitting there wondering why the fuck your boyfriend suddenly looks like a completely different person.”

Jimin's eyebrows lifted. “The side of you that gets punched in the face while someone tries to kill you?”

Jungkook's mouth twitched, and he gave a small shrug. 

“Well, that side, yeah, but also the side that's doing the punching.” 

Jimin let out a quiet laugh despite himself, and Jungkook smiled when he heard it, his thumb brushing once along the edge of Jimin's jaw before he let his hand fall back to his side. 

“I'm serious, though. When I'm in that ring, I'm not going to be the same guy you see right now. I'm not going to be smiling at you between every punch, and I'm probably not going to look particularly happy if he hits me. I can get really aggressive when I'm fighting, Jimin. That's part of it. I'm going to be focused on him, I'm going to be angry sometimes, and I'm going to do everything I can within the rules to win. I just don't want you sitting there thinking something has gone horribly wrong because I suddenly look pissed off or because I take a hard hit and don't react the way you expect me to.”

Jimin studied him quietly, his concern still there but no longer quite as sharp, and after a moment he asked, “Are you actually okay with me seeing that?”

Jungkook looked almost confused by the question. “Of course I am.”

“Even if you lose a tooth?”

Jungkook's grin returned immediately. “Especially if I lose a tooth. I want you to see that. I want you sitting there afterward going, ‘Wow, my boyfriend looks fucking terrible,’ and then telling me I'm still pretty anyway.”

Jimin laughed, finally letting some of the tension leave his shoulders. “That's your concern?”

“Absolutely.” Jungkook leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss along the edge of Jimin's jaw, his hand sliding comfortably around his waist as he settled closer again. “I just don't want you to get worried about me, especially because I know you're going to be watching every little thing I do. You're going to see me get hit, and you're going to see me hit him, and you're probably going to have moments where you're sitting there thinking, ‘What the fuck is happening?’ I want you to know that I'm okay. I'm doing exactly what I trained to do, and I'm going to be thinking about getting through the fight and coming back to you afterward.”

Jimin's expression softened, and Jungkook leaned back enough to look directly into his eyes again. “And I want you cheering for me,” he added, giving Jimin's side a gentle squeeze.

That made Jimin smile. “What happens if you don't look as pretty afterward?” he asked. Jungkook laughed, and Jimin reached up to brush his fingers through Jungkook's hair, gently pushing a few strands away from his forehead as though he were already inspecting him for potential damage.  “I mean, what if your face is all swollen and you've got a black eye and you're missing a tooth? What then?” Jimin said teasingly.

“Well,” Jungkook said, leaning into Jimin's hand with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression, “I guess you're going to have to love me for my personality.”

Jimin paused, looking up toward the ceiling “Hmm. I don't know if I can do that.”

Jungkook immediately gasped, pulling away from his hand with a look of theatrical betrayal. “Wow. Okay. I see how it is.”

Jimin broke into another giggle, reaching out and pushing lightly against his shoulder. “I'm kidding. I think I can handle it.”

“I think you can too.” Jungkook smiled at him. He leaned forward and kissed Jimin softly, lingering for several seconds before pulling back just enough that their noses nearly touched. “And just so we're clear, after that fight, I am absolutely expecting you to tell me I still look pretty no matter what I look like.”

Jimin rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop smiling. “We'll see. I'm not going to feed your ego too much.”

Jimin laughed again, and Jungkook wrapped both arms around him, pulling him against his chest until Jimin could feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of his shirt. The conversation slowly dissolved after that, neither of them seeming particularly interested in talking anymore, and Jimin settled against him with his cheek resting near Jungkook's shoulder while Jungkook absentmindedly stroked his back. 

———————————————

MEDIA DAY

The moment Jimin and Jungkook stepped into the corridor leading toward the media area, the sound of camera shutters became almost constant, a rapid mechanical clicking that seemed to come from every direction at once. Several photographers already waiting near the stairs with their cameras raised, hoping to catch the first clear images of the two of them together. 

 Jungkook walked beside Jimin with one hand firmly intertwined with his, his thumb occasionally brushing over the back of Jimin's hand as they made their way forward. Every few steps another camera flashed, and Jimin could feel himself instinctively turning his face slightly toward Jungkook whenever the bursts became particularly bright, only for Jungkook to squeeze his hand as though quietly checking that he was still okay without needing to ask.

Jungkook's manager kept pace with them on the other side, moving quickly enough that she occasionally had to step around photographers who were backing up to get a better angle, and she already seemed to anticipated every possible disaster before they had even reached the stage. 

"Okay, both of you, quick reminder before we get out there," she said, keeping her voice low but firm as she checked the schedule in the folder tucked against her side. "No questions about Director Kang, no comments about the board hearing, and absolutely nothing about the lawsuit threats we made against Seungmin's team. If someone asks, you redirect to the fight, the event, training, whatever you want, but you do not get dragged into anything else today." 

Jungkook nodded absently, still looking ahead toward the growing crowd, and she immediately added, 

"And Jungkook, no trying to fight anyone today." 

Jimin's head tipped toward Jungkook as a laugh escaped him, and he squeezed Jungkook's hand when Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

"I wasn't going to fight anybody," Jungkook muttered, looking genuinely offended by the accusation, and his manager gave him a flat look that made Jimin giggle again. 

"You say that now," she replied. "We're going to take questions here from the press first, then you've got the local television interview, and after that you have the photo session that Yoongi arranged, so please try to survive the afternoon without giving me a heart attack." 

Jungkook groaned under his breath and dragged his free hand over his face. "There's a photo session too?" 

His manager glanced at him. "Yes. You knew this was coming." Jungkook looked down at Jimin with an exaggerated expression of betrayal, and Jimin only smiled behind his sunglasses.  "All right, enough. We're here." 

The corridor opened into a much larger space where the temporary media setup had been constructed, and the atmosphere immediately became louder as reporters shifted behind the barriers and photographers crowded closer to the designated area. A long table sat at the center of the small stage with several microphones arranged across its surface, each bearing the logos of different networks and publications, while a large event backdrop stretched behind it with the fight branding printed across the entire wall. 

Jimin's eyes moved briefly over the setup, taking in the number of cameras and people waiting for them. His manager stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned toward them. 

"Okay, you two are on your own from here. Just remember what I said." She looked directly at Jungkook. "Behave." 

Jungkook gave her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am." She rolled her eyes, waved them forward, and stepped aside as the first photographer called Jungkook's name.

They started up the stairs together, and the camera shutters immediately intensified, flashes popping from different angles as photographers tried to capture them before they even reached the table. Jimin could hear people calling for them to look toward different cameras, some asking Jungkook to turn his head and others calling Jimin's name, but neither of them let go of the other's hand until they reached the top. Jungkook paused long enough to glance toward Jimin, making sure he was steady before they crossed toward their seats, and then he released his hand only long enough to pull Jimin's chair out for him. Jimin looked at him with a small, amused smile as he sat down, and Jungkook pushed the chair in carefully before taking the seat beside him. The gesture earned another burst of camera shutters, and Jimin could already imagine the photographs circulating before the afternoon was even over.

There were photographs of Jungkook everywhere around the media area, and Jimin slowly began noticing the details as he settled into his chair. Along one side of the backdrop were large photographs of Jungkook from previous matches, some showing him standing in the ring with his gloves raised while the crowd blurred behind him, others capturing him mid-punch with sweat flying from his hair, and one particularly striking image of him after a victory.

Jungkook leaned closer while the photographers continued snapping pictures, his shoulder brushing against Jimin's. "You're staring," he murmured beneath the noise. 

Jimin turned his head toward him. 

"I'm looking." 

"At me?" Jungkook asked, and Jimin could hear the smile in his voice. 

"you wish."

The announcer stepped toward the edge of the small stage and lifted a hand, waiting for the room to settle before speaking into the microphone.

“All right, everyone, we’re going to start taking questions now. Please raise your hand, and we’ll get a microphone over to you.” Almost immediately, several hands went up around the room, and Jungkook leaned back slightly in his chair while Jimin adjusted himself beside him, one hand resting loosely near the edge of the table.

The lights overhead were bright enough that Jimin could feel the faint pressure beginning behind his eyes, but it was nothing like the overwhelming pain he had experienced earlier in his recovery, and after a slow blink he found himself able to focus again, his attention settling naturally on the reporter being handed the first microphone.

“Jungkook, you made weight comfortably today. How are you feeling going into tomorrow night?” the reporter asked.

Jungkook leaned toward the microphone, one forearm resting against the table as he answered without much hesitation. “I feel great. Honestly, it’s kind of expected. I’ve been keeping my weight pretty much consistent throughout my entire training camp, so I wasn’t really majorly worried, and I didn’t have to go on any sort of cut.” He gave a small shrug towards the end.

“Jimin, how does it feel being here with Jungkook today?” the next reporter asked.

Jimin smiled immediately, leaning comfortably toward his microphone as he answered, “I’m really excited. I’ve never actually seen a boxing match before, so this is all new to me, but I’m really glad I’m here.” Jungkook turned his head toward him with a small smile that lingered for a second before he looked back toward the crowd.

“Jungkook, this camp has looked different from some of your previous camps. How would you describe the preparation for this fight?”

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully before answering, “It’s been intense. I think every camp teaches you something different, and I’ve had a really good team around me this time, so I’ve been able to focus on what I need to do without getting distracted. We’ve been focusing on the fight since day one, which is mainly just being ready when that bell rings.” His answer was noticeably more measured than some of his usual responses, and Jimin could practically hear his manager’s voice in his head reminding him not to start anything with the press, which made the corner of his mouth twitch.

Another reporter was handed the microphone. “Jimin, you’ve been very visible alongside Jungkook throughout this camp. How involved are you actually in his preparation?”

Jimin laughed softly, glancing briefly at Jungkook before answering. “Not nearly as involved as people seem to think. I leave the boxing stuff to the coaches. I’m mostly there when he wants company or when he needs someone to tell him he’s being a little bit ridiculous.” A ripple of laughter moved through the room, and

Jungkook leaned toward his microphone with a completely straight face and added, “He does that a lot.” The laughter grew louder, and Jimin turned toward him with an amused look, shaking his head as Jungkook smiled innocently at the reporters.

The next question came almost immediately. “Jungkook, Seungmin has been very vocal about this fight. Do you think some of the things he’s said have made this rivalry more personal than it needs to be?”

Jungkook's expression changed slightly, the humor fading from his face as he considered the question, but his answer remained controlled.

“I think he can say whatever he wants. I’m not fighting his fucking interviews. I’m going to fight him tomorrow.” The bluntness earned a few surprised laughs from the room, and Jungkook leaned back again, seemingly satisfied that he had said exactly what he meant without giving the reporter much more to work with.

The next reporter, however, didn't hesitate before pushing further. “Jungkook, Seungmin has also accused you of being partly responsible for Jimin ending up in the hospital. What do you say to that?”

The shift in Jungkook was immediate enough that Jimin noticed it before anyone else. His shoulders tightened, his jaw set, and his hand curled slightly against the table as he leaned toward the microphone.

“I think that’s a disgusting thing to say about someone who was already—” He barely got the words out before Jimin reached beneath the table and gave his thigh a quick pinch.

Jungkook stopped and looked sideways at him, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion, but Jimin was already leaning toward his own microphone.

“I was injured because I was injured,” he said calmly, his voice composed . “That had nothing to do with Jungkook. He wasn’t responsible for what happened to me, and I’m not interested in giving that accusation any more attention than it deserves.” The room went noticeably quieter after his answer, and Jimin sat back, allowing the silence to settle without trying to fill it.

Jungkook looked at him for a moment, his expression softening as he took a slow breath through his nose, and although he didn't say anything, Jimin understood the quiet gratitude in his eyes. Beneath the table, Jungkook's hand shifted until his fingers brushed against Jimin's, and Jimin let his own hand rest against his for a moment before the next reporter was called on.

“Jimin, where will you be watching the fight from tomorrow?”

Jimin's expression immediately brightened again, and he leaned toward the microphone with a small laugh. “Well, I’m apparently being spoiled and getting VIP tickets.” The reporters laughed, and Jungkook turned toward him with a grin that made it obvious he was entirely pleased with himself.

“You two have obviously become a very visible couple,” another reporter said once the laughter died down. “Do you feel like you have a responsibility as a public LGBTQ+ couple, or that you’re becoming role models for other young couples?”

Jungkook's eyebrows drew together slightly as he looked toward the reporter, clearly caught off guard by the question. For a second, he glanced at Jimin as if checking whether he had any idea what to make of it either, and Jimin simply gave him a small shrug before turning his attention back toward the microphone. Jungkook considered the question for another moment, then leaned forward and answered,

“If seeing us makes someone else feel like they can be honest with who they are, then I’m happy about that. But I don’t want to pretend we’re trying to represent anybody. We’re just being us, and I’m just loving who I love.”

Jimin's expression softened as he looked at him, something warm settling behind his eyes as the room responded with another quiet murmur of approval. Jimin smiled and let his fingers curl lightly around Jungkook's beneath the table while the announcer turned toward the next raised hand.

 “Jimin, obviously there’s been a lot of discussion recently surrounding Director Kang, and before—” He didn't get any farther.

A soft tap against one of the microphones came from the side of the stage, followed by Soojin stepping out from behind the curtain with the kind of composed smile that made it immediately obvious she had been listening to every word. 

“We’re going to keep today’s questions focused on fight media day,” she said evenly, her tone polite enough to avoid making a scene but firm enough that nobody could mistake it for a suggestion. 

The reporter hesitated, glanced toward her, and then slowly lowered his microphone, and Jimin gave Soojin a small, grateful look from across the table before turning his attention back toward the crowd. He hadn't been nervous about answering questions about Kang, but he also had no desire to have the day hijacked by something that had nothing to do with tomorrow's fight, especially when he had only recently gotten the chance to breathe after everything that had happened.

Another reporter was called on, and this time the question was directed toward Jungkook. “What do you respect most about Seungmin as a fighter?”

Jungkook leaned toward the microphone, his posture settling back into the relaxed confidence he'd carried throughout the rest of the interview. 

“He's durable. He's experienced, he doesn't quit, which can be pretty fucking annoying when you're the one trying to put him down, but I respect it. I try to respect anyone who gets in the ring with me, because you have to have a certain amount of courage to step in there knowing you're going to get hit, and he's good at what he does.” He gave a small nod as he finished.

The announcer had barely started to move toward another raised hand when a reporter near the front suddenly lifted his microphone again. “Oh, sorry, one thing.” He looked directly at Jimin. “Jimin, how do you feel about the Twitter post Director Kang just made?”

Jimin's eyebrows pulled together almost immediately. For a second, he simply stared at the reporter, trying to figure out what he meant, and then he leaned slightly closer to his microphone. “Sorry?”

The reporter looked almost surprised by the question. “Director Kang posted something about you less than an hour ago.”

Jimin turned his head toward Jungkook, and the look on Jungkook's face told him immediately that he knew just as little as he did. Jungkook's eyebrows were drawn together, his mouth slightly parted as he looked between Jimin and the reporter, clearly trying to figure out what the hell had just changed. Jimin turned back toward the microphone and gave a small shake of his head. 

“ I think we should probably just keep moving with the questions for today.” His tone remained polite, but there was a subtle firmness underneath it now, the professional instinct to redirect the conversation kicking in before the situation could spiral.

It didn't work.

“Jimin, she said you're being mislead. Are you going to respond?” another reporter called from somewhere to the left.

Jimin blinked, his expression tightening with confusion. “I don't know what was posted,” he answered, trying to keep his voice even despite the questions suddenly coming from several directions at once. “But this isn't really the time or place for that.”

“Well, are you denying any of it?”

“I can't deny something I haven't seen,” Jimin replied, his patience beginning to wear thin. He glanced briefly toward Jungkook again, and Jungkook was staring out at the reporters with the same increasingly bewildered expression, his fingers tapping once against the underside of the table before going still.

“Jungkook, do you not like Director Kang?” someone asked.

Jungkook leaned toward his microphone, but instead of immediately answering, he looked across the room toward Soojin, as though silently asking whether she had any idea what was happening. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but noticeably firmer than before. “We're not discussing Director Kang here.”

“But Jungkook, she specifically mentioned you,” another reporter immediately countered.

The questions began overlapping before anyone could properly answer them, and Jimin found himself trying to follow three different voices at once while the bright lights continued to reflect off the cameras scattered throughout the room. 

“Jimin, are you going to issue a response anytime soon?” one reporter asked, while another called out something about the statement, and another tried to get Jungkook's attention by asking whether he had seen the post. 

Jungkook looked toward Soojin again, then lightly tapped the table with two fingers to catch her attention. “We're done,” he said quietly, his voice carrying just enough for her to hear.

Soojin immediately stepped forward from backstage, raising one hand toward the reporters as she spoke. 

“Okay, questions are over. That's going to be all for today. Thank you, everyone. We'll see you at the fight tomorrow.” The room erupted into another wave of questions before she had even finished, several reporters calling Jimin's name while others shouted toward Jungkook, trying to squeeze one last answer out of them.

Jungkook didn't give them the opportunity. He pushed his chair back, stood, and immediately reached for Jimin's hand, threading their fingers together as he helped him rise from his chair. Jimin barely had time to collect himself before Jungkook was already guiding him toward the stairs, keeping his body slightly between Jimin and the nearest cluster of cameras as they moved off the stage. The flashes continued going off around them, but Jimin kept his eyes forward, following Jungkook's lead until they finally disappeared behind the curtain and the noise of the reporters dulled into something distant.

The moment they reached the backstage corridor, Jimin looked at him in disbelief. “What the fuck is happening?”

“I don't know,” Jungkook admitted, sounding just as confused as he looked. He released Jimin's hand only long enough to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, immediately waking the screen and staring down at it as notifications began flooding across the display. “I didn't see anything either. we've been at weigh-ins all fucking day.”

Jimin stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the screen in Jungkook's hand. “She posted something less than an hour ago?”

“Apparently.” Jungkook scrolled rapidly, his expression growing more confused with every second. “What the fuck did she even post?”

Soojin came around the corner, moving quickly enough that the heels of her shoes clicked sharply against the floor before she stopped in front of them. Her expression had changed completely from the composed professionalism she'd worn onstage. She looked first at Jimin, then at Jungkook's phone, and finally back at Jimin before asking, 

“Do you have good fucking lawyers?”

Jimin blinked at her, caught so completely off guard by the question “I—I mean, I guess? But Director Kang handled all of that. I mean, she handled the lawsuits and—” 

“Handled?” Soojin repeated, staring at him. “Not anymore.” She pulled her own phone from her pocket and unlocked it with a few quick taps, “Consider yourself under my protection from now on, because if she thinks she's going to publicly drag one of my athletes and I'm just going to sit here and watch it happen, she has completely lost her fucking mind.” She stepped closer and held the phone out between Jimin and Jungkook. “Read this.”

Jimin leaned toward the screen, Jungkook moving in beside him until their shoulders were nearly touching, and the words on the post immediately caught Jimin's attention.

“I have made the decision to step away from my position as Park Jimin's director. I believe this is best for everyone involved, but I will not allow the circumstances surrounding my departure to be misrepresented. 

Jimin is recovering from a serious injury and is in an extremely vulnerable position. I am deeply concerned by the influence certain people have recently had over his decisions and the accusations now being made on his behalf. Jungkook has made his feelings towards me clear, but I have to ask why someone outside of Jimin's professional career is suddenly so involved in his decisions regarding his future. 

Jimin deserves to speak for himself. He deserves to make his own decisions without being manipulated by someone else's personal conflicts. I have spent years protecting Jimin's career. I will not apologize for that.”

Jimin read the final sentence twice before he realized he'd stopped breathing. For several seconds he simply stared at the screen, his mind struggling to reconcile the words with everything that had happened only days earlier.

“What the fuck?” Jimin finally whispered, his eyes still fixed on the phone. He looked up at Soojin, genuinely stunned. “She just—she just made it sound like I don't make any of my own decisions.”

“Exactly,” Soojin said, pulling the phone back toward herself. “And she's doing it publicly, where everyone can see it.” Her thumb moved across the screen as she pulled up another page, her expression hardening as she continued. “And if she thinks she's not going to hear from me after publicly defaming my fucking athlete, she's got another thing coming.”

Jungkook had been unusually quiet while she spoke, his eyes moving between Soojin and Jimin, but at that he let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh. “You're really pissed.”

Soojin slowly looked at him. “Yes, Jungkook. I'm really fucking pissed.”. Soojin turned back toward Jimin, her voice becoming more controlled as she said, “And don't you dare feel like you need to respond to this right now. That's exactly what she wants. She wants you angry, she wants you emotional, and she wants you to say something she can twist into another story about how unstable or influenced you are. Only respond when you’re ready.”

Jimin swallowed, looking back toward the phone in her hand. The post still felt surreal, almost like someone had taken pieces of his own life and rearranged them into a story he didn't recognize. “I just don't understand how she can say I don't speak for myself when I literally wrote the statement.”

“I know,” Soojin replied, “Which is exactly why we're going to handle this properly instead of letting her drag you into some stupid public fight.”

Jungkook glanced down at his phone again, then back toward Soojin. “So what happens now?”

“What happens now,” Soojin said, already turning toward the corridor, “is that you two go do the television interview you were scheduled for, and I make sure nobody tries to turn it into another Kang circus.” She started walking before either of them had a chance to respond, then looked back over her shoulder. “And if they bring up Director Kang's name, I'm shutting it down.” Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a look before quickly following her down the hallway.

“And if that woman thinks she's going to keep publicly portraying you as some helpless little victim who doesn't know how to make his own decisions, she's going to learn very quickly that I'm not the person she wants to pick a fight with.”

Jungkook laughed under his breath as he caught up beside Jimin, lowering his voice so only Jimin could hear. “I think she's scarier than both of us.”

 Jimin wanted to respond, but the image of Kang's statement lingering in Jimin mind despite everything Soojin had said. He had spent years believing that getting away from her would be the hardest part, that once she was gone he would finally be able to breathe without waiting for her voice to come from somewhere behind him, and yet here she was again, reaching through a fucking Twitter post and trying to put herself back into a life she no longer controlled. He had finally won. He had finally stood in that room and watched her lose everything she'd used to hold over him, and somehow she had still managed one last attempt to make him question himself.

Is it never fucking going to end?

——————————————————

The hotel room had become a temporary war room by the time they had all settled in, with papers spread across the small round table near the window and phones lighting up every few seconds as new notifications rolled across their screens. Soojin had claimed the table for herself, hunched over a stack of paperwork with one hand bracing the pages while the other moved steadily across them with a pen, her expression still carrying the same irritated disbelief she had worn ever since she had read Kang's statement. Across the room, Jimin sat near the edge of one of the beds with his legs hanging over the side, his phone resting loosely in one hand while Jungkook sat on the carpet between his knees, leaning back against the mattress. 

Jimin had been absentmindedly running his fingers through Jungkook's hair for several minutes, combing through the damp strands and occasionally scratching lightly at his scalp whenever Jungkook shifted closer, while Namjoon occupied the chair near the desk and Taehyung sat beside Jimin on the bed, scrolling through his own phone and occasionally glancing up whenever the conversation turned particularly heated.

Jungkook had barely looked away from his screen since they had come back from the interview, his thumb moving steadily as he worked through the endless stream of articles, posts, and comments that had appeared throughout the afternoon. Jimin watched him for a moment before returning his attention to the phone in his own hand, although he wasn't really reading anything anymore. The entire day had left him exhausted in a way that went beyond physical fatigue, and even though the worst of the concussion symptoms had eased considerably over the past week, the constant cameras, noise, questions, and sudden appearance of Kang's statement had left a dull pressure sitting behind his eyes. 

Soojin was the first to break the silence, flipping through another page of paperwork before looking over at Jimin. "Hey, Jimin, can I ask you something? Why was Director Kang responsible for all of your legal issues?" 

Jimin lifted his head, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion as he lowered his phone. "What do you mean?" he asked, and Soojin set her pen down for a moment, turning slightly in her chair so she could face him properly. 

"I mean, I'm not saying there was anything technically wrong with it, but that's not exactly normal. Your dance director shouldn't also be functioning as your manager and handling your legal affairs. Jungkook has Coach hwang overseeing his training, but he has me handling his contracts, legal matters, scheduling, media, and everything else outside of the actual sport. That's a lot of responsibility to put on one person, especially someone who already has that much authority over you professionally."

Jimin stared at her for a few seconds, his fingers slowing in Jungkook's hair as he tried to remember exactly how that arrangement had started. "I did have a manager at one point," he finally said, his voice quieter as the memory surfaced. "But Kang told me I should get rid of her. She said she could handle everything herself and that it would be easier if I didn't have too many people involved in my career. She said she wanted to be the only person I relied on because she understood what I needed better than anyone else." 

The words settled over the room with a weight that Jimin seemed not to recognize until everyone else did, and when he looked around, he found Taehyung staring at him with an expression that had gone completely serious.

"Wait," Taehyung said, shifting on the mattress. "No, yeah, I remember that. She was always pissed whenever someone else tried making decisions for you." He looked between Jimin and Soojin, his brows drawn together as the memory became clearer. "It wasn't just that she wanted to be involved. She hated having another person between you and her. If you had a manager who was supposed to make the final calls on things, then Kang couldn't just decide everything herself. She always acted like anyone else getting involved was someone trying to interfere with your career."

Soojin gave a humorless scoff as she picked her pen back up and glanced down at the documents in front of her. "Well, I'm looking through your history right now, and apparently she didn't do much fucking defending of you anyway." She flipped through several pages, her eyes moving rapidly over the information before she continued, her irritation growing with every page. "You've had multiple instances where people said or did things that could have seriously damaged your career, and there's barely any record of her taking action. There are complaints, articles, public comments, people making accusations about you, and somehow the person who was supposedly responsible for protecting your career didn't seem particularly interested in protecting you from any of it." She shook her head and looked up at Jimin. "Some of this stuff is insane. If somebody pulled half of this shit with Jungkook, I would make damn sure they didn't have a house by the time I was finished with them."

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, his eyes remaining on his phone as the corner of his mouth twitched. "I think you've done that once before." 

Namjoon, who had been quietly listening from the other side of the room, laughed under his breath and shook his head. "More than once," he corrected, and Soojin didn't even bother denying it as she continued looking through the papers.

"Do you remember that boxer from two years ago?" Namjoon asked, leaning back in his chair. "The one who told a reporter Jungkook was taking performance-enhancing drugs before the regional tournament?"

Soojin's head snapped up immediately. "Oh, him." Her expression changed with instant recognition, and Jungkook finally glanced over at her. "That specific person hasn't boxed a day since," she said matter-of-factly

Jungkook's eyebrows shot up. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He had finally found something on his phone that appeared to pull his entire attention away from the conversation, and he stared down at the screen with an expression that quickly hardened. Jimin noticed the change in his posture and leaned forward over his shoulder, trying to see what had caught his attention. 

"What?" he asked, and Jungkook silently tilted the phone enough for him to read it.

Seungmin had reposted Kang's statement.

The original post was still sitting on the screen, the words Jimin had already seen now surrounded by thousands of reactions and comments, but Seungmin's addition was what made Jungkook's jaw tighten. He hadn't directly repeated the accusation that Jungkook controlled Jimin, but the implication was impossible to miss. 

Namjoon crossed the room, leaning over Jungkook's shoulder to see the post for himself. His face immediately soured. "That motherfucker doesn't know when to quit." 

Jungkook locked his phone and dropped his head back against the mattress, his hands resting loosely against his knees as he stared at the carpet.

"What does this guy even have against you two?" Taehyung asked, his voice quieter now. "Seriously. What is his problem with your relationship?"

Jungkook rubbed both hands over his face before letting them fall into his lap, the frustration that had been building throughout the day finally surfacing in his voice. 

"I don't fucking know. All of this shit started a few days after Jimin and I made it public that we were together. I didn't even know this motherfucker's name before that." He looked down at his phone again without unlocking it, his thumb tapping absently against the edge. "Before that, I had no reason to care about him. He wasn't part of my life, he wasn't somebody I trained with, and I sure as hell wasn't thinking about him. Then suddenly he's talking about me in interviews, calling me names, accusing me of using Jimin, and now he's jumping onto every fucking thing Kang says because it gives him another excuse to talk about us."

Jimin's hand had gone still in Jungkook's hair. He looked down at him, his expression softening slightly as Jungkook's frustration settled into something more tired than angry, and he slowly resumed running his fingers through the dark strands. 

"Maybe he just hates that people actually like you," Taehyung offered, although even he sounded unconvinced by how simple the explanation was.

Namjoon gave a quiet laugh from where he had returned to his chair. "Unfortunately, I think it's exactly what he wants." He picked up his own phone and glanced at the screen before looking back at Jungkook. "You two were the hottest thing in the press the second you went public. Every picture of you together got attention, every interview question turned into something about your relationship, and every time Seungmin said something about you, people talked about him too. He's not attacking you because he doesn't understand what's happening. He's doing it because talking about you keeps his name in the conversation."

Jungkook's expression darkened as he listened, and Namjoon continued before he could interrupt. "Look at what he's doing right now. Kang posts something accusing you of manipulating Jimin, and instead of letting it die on her page, he reposts it and adds his own little implication that maybe he's been right all along. He's attaching himself to her statement because he knows people are already watching. If he keeps poking at you, people keep responding, and if people keep responding, he keeps getting attention."

Soojin finally looked up from her paperwork again, her expression flat. "Which means the worst thing you can do is give him exactly what he wants." Jungkook looked toward her, and she pointed her pen at him before he could say anything. "I'm serious. Don't respond to that post tonight.  Don't let somebody convince you that you need to defend yourself every time he opens his mouth. You have a fight tomorrow, and he's clearly trying to drag you into something that has absolutely nothing to do with the ring."

Jungkook stared at her for a long moment before slowly nodding, although the irritation hadn't completely left his face. "I know." His voice dropped as he glanced up at Jimin, . "It's just fucking exhausting."

Jimin's fingers paused briefly at the back of his head before settling there again, and he leaned forward enough that his chin almost rested against Jungkook's shoulder. "I know," he murmured, quietly enough that it almost disappeared beneath the hum of the hotel air conditioner. Jungkook reached up without looking and caught Jimin's wrist, squeezing it gently before letting his hand fall again.

Soojin gathered the loose pages around her into a neat stack, tapping the edges against the tabletop until everything was aligned before sliding the papers into a thick folder. She closed it with a firm snap, then leaned back slightly in the chair and looked around the hotel room at everyone.

“All right,” she said, letting out a tired breath. “I believe I have everything I need. I promise you, this woman isn't going to be able to do much for long. Not with me and your guys' corner.”

A small smile touched Jimin's face. After everything that had happened that day, hearing someone say that with such absolute certainty was strangely comforting. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Really.”

Soojin waved him off immediately. “No need to thank me. I've hated her since I started working at the facility,” Soojin continued, tucking the folder beneath her arm. “She's been a fucking nightmare for years.”

“How do you and a director from the dance department even mingle that much?” Namjoon asked, genuinely curious. “You'd think you'd barely have any reason to interact.”

“We shouldn't,” Soojin said matter-of-factly. “Exactly. But Kang was always one of those people who needed to know everything that was happening in the entire building, whether it had anything to do with her or not. She'd show up asking questions, wanting updates, wanting to know who was working with who. And once Jungkook and Jimin started getting together, she got increasingly curious about Jungkook, his team, his staff, his schedule. Basically anything she could find an excuse to stick her nose into.”

Taehyung let out a disbelieving laugh from beside Jimin. “Oh my God. That woman is relentless.”.

“When you and I started becoming friends, she ran a fucking background check on you,” Jimin reminded him.

Taehyung's eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yeah.”

“She thought you were a bad influence on me,” Jimin added, rolling his eyes. “She was literally trying to get you fired from the building.”

Taehyung leaned back against the headboard with a laugh. “Oh, I know. She was probably fucking beaming when I put in my two weeks' notice.”

Soojin shook her head, though there was a faint smile on her face now. She picked up the folder again and tucked it securely beneath her arm before pushing herself out of the chair.

“All right. Jungkook, you should get back to your room. It's late, and everyone here has a lot going on tomorrow. I'll be in touch with the company,” Soojin continued, already gathering the last of her things. “I'll handle whatever I can from my end tonight. You guys just need to rest. I'll see all of you tomorrow.” She pointed toward Jungkook with the folder. “And that means you especially. Go to bed.”

Jungkook gave her a lazy salute. “Yes, ma'am.”

-------------------------------

Later that night in their own hotel room Jimin was sitting against the headboard with his legs stretched beneath the blankets, one hand buried in a half-crumpled bag of pretzels while the other rested loosely against his stomach. The television played quietly across the room, some late-night program neither of them had been paying much attention to for the last twenty minutes. Its shifting light washed over the hotel room in pale flashes, occasionally catching on the glass of water sitting untouched on the nightstand.

Jungkook, meanwhile, had been staring at his phone for far too long. His thumb kept moving even though he clearly wasn't finding anything he actually wanted to see. Article after article, post after post, notifications stacked on top of one another. Some were discussing tomorrow's fight. Others were dissecting the press conference. But a growing number had nothing to do with boxing at all.

We knew this would happen.

Someone needs to get Jimin away from him.

Jungkook is clearly controlling him.

Proud to say I’ve never liked them together.

Jungkook's jaw tightened while He scrolled past another message accusing him of isolating Jimin, then another saying Jimin was too vulnerable to understand what Jungkook was doing to him. His thumb stopped moving.

"The internet's going fucking insane since that bitch posted that statement."

Jimin didn't look away from the television. He simply reached into the bag, pulled out another pretzel, and popped it into his mouth. "That's why I haven't gotten on my phone."

Jungkook scoffed quietly. He stared at the screen for another second before finally clicking it off and tossing the phone onto the mattress beside his thigh. It landed with a soft bounce against the sheets. Jungkook leaned his head back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling. He was tired of this. Tired of strangers deciding they knew everything about them because they'd seen a few pictures, read a few headlines, watched a few interviews. Tired of every good thing in his life somehow being dragged into somebody else's argument.

All he wanted was to love Jimin, That was it. He didn't want to spend every day defending it. He didn't want to prove that Jimin was capable of making his own decisions. He didn't want to constantly explain that he wasn't controlling him, saving him, manipulating him, or whatever else people had decided to call it this week.

He just wanted to Be with him.

Jungkook's eyes shifted toward Jimin. Jimin was still watching the television, completely unaware of the small war happening inside Jungkook's head. He reached into the bag again, chewing thoughtfully as his eyes remained fixed on the screen. There was something Jungkook had been thinking about for a while now, Something he'd almost brought up several times.

"You know what I've been thinking?" He blurted out.

Jimin hummed and finally glanced over at him. "What?"

Jungkook shifted against the headboard, then pushed himself a little more upright. "When this is all over...Maybe we should..."

Jimin's eyebrows lifted. "Should what?"

"I mean, you know, I've just been thinking about it. Because basically all your stuff is at my house anyway, and I've got half my shit at your apartment, and we're constantly walking back and forth between the two places, which is honestly kind of exhausting, and you have, like, half your bathroom products in my bathroom now, including that face cream that you keep putting on my counter even though it smells weird and burns my skin if I accidentally touch it, and you've got clothes in my closet and I've got clothes at your place, and sometimes I wake up and have no idea which apartment we're technically supposed to be at, and it just seems kind of stupid because we're basically living together already, except we're paying for two places and constantly carrying bags back and forth like we're fucking teenagers sneaking out of our parents' houses, so maybe it would just be easier if we—"

"Jungkook." Jimin interrupted forcing him to stop mid sentence, Jimin lowered the bag of pretzels into his lap. "What are you asking me?"

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, suddenly finding the ceiling incredibly interesting. His fingers went to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously. "I was thinking maybe..." He swallowed. "Possibly we could get our own place together."

Jimin's eyebrows rose. He didn't immediately answer. He simply looked at Jungkook, processing the question. Unfortunately for Jungkook, the silence could have killed him.

"Obviously, if you don't want to, we don't have to," he rushed out. "And I know we have so much shit going on right now, and honestly this is probably the worst possible time to bring it up because my fight is literally in a couple hours and I'm sitting here awake when I should be sleeping, and Coach Hwang is going to fucking murder me if he finds out I'm still awake because apparently getting eight hours of sleep is too much to ask for when I'm trying to prepare for the biggest fight of my life, but I've been thinking about it for a while, okay? It's not just because everything's been crazy lately. We basically live together anyway, and I like waking up with you, and I like coming home and knowing you're there, and I just thought maybe it would be nice if we had somewhere that was actually ours instead of constantly going between your apartment and mine, but I know it's a big thing, and maybe it's too soon, and maybe you don't want to deal with all the shit that comes with living with me because everyone already has something to say about us, and God forbid I lose this fight tomorrow because then apparently everybody's going to decide Seungmin was right and Director Kang was right and that somehow losing a boxing match proves everything they've ever said about me, which is fucking ridiculous, but that's probably going to happen anyway, and I'm really, really hoping I win, obviously, but I'm not asking because of that, I swear, I've actually been thinking about this for a while, and I even looked at a little place near the facility because I thought it would be convenient for both of us, and—"

The pretzel bag slipped from Jimin's lap and landed softly against the blankets as Jimin reached up, one hand settling against Jungkook's cheek, and kissed him. Cutting off the seeming to never end rant Jungkook had started. Jungkook's hands found Jimin's waist almost instinctively as Jimin shifted closer. He helped guide him across the mattress, and Jimin settled onto his lap, one knee on either side of Jungkook's hips beneath the blankets. His arms slipped around Jungkook's neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened for another few moments.

Jungkook's fingers curled gently against Jimin's sides, holding him there as though he still wasn't entirely convinced this was actually happening. Eventually, they broke apart, both breathing a little differently than they had a moment before.

"Wow." Jungkook breathed out with a almost disbelieving laugh. "I'm really hoping that meant yes."

Jimin giggled, his forehead nearly brushing Jungkook's. "Yes. I would love to."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

The grin that spread across Jungkook's face was immediate and completely impossible to hide. He leaned forward and kissed Jimin again, this time softer, lingering for only a moment before pulling back with a smile that made Jimin laugh.

"Okay," Jungkook murmured. "Okay. That's amazing."

Jimin watched him for a second, still smiling. "Have you really already been looking at places?"

Jungkook's expression turned slightly sheepish. "Yeah. Um... for a couple weeks now, honestly."

"A couple weeks?"

"I know." He lifted both hands slightly, as if surrendering. "It might be too fast. I probably should've asked you before I started looking, but I just kept thinking about it and—"

Jimin shook his head cutting him off, . "That's not what I mean. I don't think it's too fast. I'd love to," Jimin said again, softer this time. "I really would."

Jungkook nodded slowly, a smile returning to his face. "Okay. Okay."

"You're very cute when you're nervous." Jimin said with a laugh that filled the small hotel room, and Jungkook couldn't help smiling along with him. He reached up and brushed his thumb along Jimin's cheek. Jimin's expression softened as he looked at him. "So, is there anything else your mind's been racing about?"

Jungkook narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Um..." He glanced toward the ceiling, genuinely considering it. "I don't think so."

Jimin snorted. "Okay."

He shifted slightly on Jungkook's lap, settling more comfortably against him before adding, "As soon as you kick that guy's ass tomorrow, the first thing we can do is start looking. We'll find somewhere together, okay?"

Jungkook's smile returned almost instantly.

"You're positive you really, really want to?"

Jimin rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Like, actually positive?"

"Jungkook."

"Sorry. I know."

Jimin leaned forward and pressed another quick kiss to his lips.

—————————————————

FIGHT DAY

The room behind the arena had a completely different energy from the one Jungkook had left only minutes earlier. Out beyond the curtain, thousands of voices rolled through the building in a constant, indistinguishable roar, the sound rising and falling whenever the announcer's voice came through the speakers, but back here everything felt tighter and more concentrated, every person moving with a purpose that seemed to narrow the entire world down to the few minutes they had left before the first bell. Coach Hwang stood close to Jungkook, speaking to one of the staff members while keeping half of his attention on the ring entrance, his instructions clipped and deliberate as he went over final details with the people responsible for the corner. Jungkook barely heard most of it. His heart was already beating hard enough that he could feel the pulse in his throat, and the adrenaline had started to settle into his muscles, turning the restless energy that had followed him through the entire afternoon into something sharper.

Yoongi stepped in front of him with the customized walkout jacket draped over his arms and helped settle it across Jungkook's shoulders. The jacket fit perfectly, dark and structured, with Jungkook's name printed boldly across the back and subtle detailing worked into the fabric that caught the overhead lights whenever he moved. It wasn't flashy in the way some fighters' walkout gear could be, but there was something aggressive about the way it looked on him, something that made him seem broader through the shoulders and more intimidating without needing to say anything at all.

Jungkook looked down at the sleeves, then twisted slightly to catch a glimpse of the lettering over his shoulder before looking back at Yoongi with a grin. "I fucking love it," he said, running a hand over the front of it as Yoongi straightened the collar.

Yoongi smiled, pleased with himself. "I knew you would. I told them I wanted something that made you look like you came here to take somebody's head off."

Jungkook laughed under his breath, flexing his fingers inside the hand wraps as Namjoon came up beside them.

His attention immediately shifted toward the entrance. "Jimin's out there, right?" Jungkook asked, and Namjoon gave him an incredulous look before reaching over and smacking his palm against Jungkook's shoulder.

"Your boyfriend is fine. He's been fine for the last hour. He's sitting in VIP, exactly where he's supposed to be, and he's wearing one of your stupid concession shirts."

Jungkook's eyebrows shot up. "He's what?"

Yoongi laughed from beside him, folding his arms as he watched Jungkook's expression. "He went and bought one of them at the merchandise stand."

Jungkook stared at him for a second before a grin slowly spread across his face. "He actually paid for one of those?"

"Full price," Yoongi confirmed, and Jungkook shook his head, laughing quietly as he imagined Jimin sitting somewhere out there in the crowd wearing a shirt with Jungkook's face printed across it. The thought loosened something in his chest that he hadn't realized was tight, and for a few seconds the noise outside seemed farther away.

Then his walkout music hit.

The bass rolled through the walls hard enough that Jungkook felt it in his ribs, and the entire atmosphere around him changed in an instant. Yoongi reached over and gave his back one final slap before stepping away.

"That's all you, my masterpiece." 

jungkook drew one slow breath through his nose as Coach Hwang moved into position beside him and Namjoon fell in behind them, and then the three of them started toward the entrance. The curtain opened, and the arena swallowed him whole.

The sound was enormous. Thousands of people were on their feet, some shouting his name while others screamed for his opponent, and the overhead lights swept across the crowd as cameras flashed from every direction. Jungkook kept his expression composed as he walked, his gloves hanging loose around his neck from the laces, his jacket catching the light every time he moved his shoulders. The adrenaline that had been building quietly in his body finally surged, making his hands feel almost weightless and his legs strangely light beneath him. He could hear Coach Hwang somewhere behind him, could feel Namjoon's presence at his back, but most of the noise had already started fading into the background as Jungkook focused on the ring waiting at the other end of the aisle.

Seungmin had come out first and was already sitting in his corner, his robe removed and his gloves on as he spoke with the people in his corner. Jungkook saw him but didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. He didn't slow down, didn't glare, didn't smile, and certainly didn't acknowledge whatever Seungmin might have been saying from across the ring. He simply kept walking, his eyes forward as he climbed the steps and ducked beneath the top rope.

Then he looked toward the VIP section.

He found Jimin almost immediately.

There he was, sitting close enough that Jungkook could make out the ridiculous shirt beneath the arena lights, the oversized image of Jungkook across the front making it impossible to miss. Jimin caught his eye at almost the exact same moment, and Jungkook felt his mouth pull into a smile before he could stop it. For one brief second, everything else disappeared. The crowd, the cameras, Seungmin, the ring, the fight waiting only moments away—all of it blurred behind the simple sight of Jimin sitting there, watching him.

God, I love him.

He turned back toward his corner and shrugged out of the jacket, handing it off to one of the corner staff while Coach hwang immediately stepped in front of him and checked the positioning of his gloves and began giving him the final instructions he'd heard countless times in training.

"Listen to me," Hwang said, leaning close "Do not let him get inside your fucking head. He's going to talk, so let him. You watch his shoulders, you watch his feet, and you don't look at his mouth. His shoulders will tell you where he's going before his hands do. Don't get reckless just because he wants you angry."

Jungkook nodded, rolling his shoulders once as he settled into his stance. "I got it."

Namjoon leaned over the ropes from the side of the corner, his voice cutting through the noise as he added, "And if you see the opening, you take it. Don't chase him around the ring trying to make something happen. Make him come to you, and when he gives you something, take it."

Jungkook glanced between the two of them and nodded again, the familiar rhythm of their instructions grounding him in a way nothing else could.

The referee stepped toward the center of the ring and motioned for both fighters to come forward. Jungkook pushed away from the ropes and crossed the canvas, his shoes making a faint squeak against the surface as Seungmin approached from the opposite side. They stopped in front of the referee, close enough that Jungkook could see the concentration in Seungmin's face beneath the bright lights.

The referee gave them the final instructions, reminding them to protect themselves at all times and to obey his commands, then looked between them before gesturing for them to touch gloves.

Jungkook lifted his glove.

Seungmin tapped it with his own.

Then they separated and returned to their corners.

Jungkook bounced lightly on the balls of his feet as the referee stepped back toward the edge of the ring, his shoulders loose and his hands raised now, gloves positioned in front of his face. Across from him, Seungmin mirrored the movement, shifting his weight as the crowd continued to roar around them.

Jungkook heard the final announcement. Then the bell rang, and Jungkook came forward immediately.

He stepped hard behind his jab, closing the distance before Seungmin could establish his rhythm, and drove a right cross through the guard before bringing the left hook around behind it. 

Seungmin gave ground quickly, his feet skimming backward across the canvas as Jungkook followed him with another combination, keeping his punches compact even as the aggression behind them intensified. 

he wanted Seungmin uncomfortable, wanted him backing up, wanted to make him feel exactly how badly Jungkook wanted to hurt him. Seungmin managed to catch him with a short counter as Jungkook stepped inside, but Jungkook immediately answered with another right hand and drove forward again, the crowd surging louder every time the two fighters exchanged.

Jungkook kept coming behind his jab, forcing Seungmin toward the ropes before snapping another right hand through an opening in his guard. Seungmin slipped the next punch and tried to angle away, but Jungkook stayed with him, cutting off the space rather than following blindly, and for several exchanges the fight became exactly what Jungkook had wanted it to be

Seungmin moving backward while Jungkook controlled the pressure. He landed enough to make the crowd react, but every time Seungmin found a little room, Jungkook closed it again, throwing combinations instead of waiting for clean single shots. His breathing gradually became heavier beneath his mouthguard, his shoulders beginning to work harder than they needed to this early, but the anger still sitting underneath his ribs kept pushing him forward until the bell finally sounded.

Jungkook immediately stepped back and lowered his hands as the referee moved between them, breathing harder than he wanted to be after only three minutes. He crossed the ring toward his corner, and dropped onto the stool as Coach Hwang was already reaching for the water bottle. Hwang squeezed the bottle into Jungkook's mouth while Namjoon moved in with the towel, wiping sweat from Jungkook's forehead and the back of his neck as Jungkook swallowed several quick mouthfuls. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hwang demanded, crouching in front of him. Jungkook pulled the bottle away long enough to answer, 

"I'm fine," 

but Hwang immediately shook his head. "You're blowing your fucking gas tank in the first round. I know you're pissed off, I know you want to hurt him, and I know exactly why, but anger isn't going to win you rounds. You came out hot, you made him move, good, but you're working too hard for shots that don't need that much effort." He took the bottle back and gestured toward Jungkook's chest as it rose and fell beneath his gloves. "Chill the fuck out. Make him work now. Stop trying to take his head off every time you throw." 

Jungkook nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove as the referee called the fighters back to the center, and Hwang gave him one final tap against the shoulder. 

"Use your feet. Make him fight your fight."

By the opening seconds of the second round, the difference was obvious.

Seungmin had recognized what Jungkook had done in the first round and wasn't interested in spending another three minutes walking backward, so he began circling clockwise, giving Jungkook just enough room to follow before subtly changing direction and trying to steer him toward the ropes. Every time Jungkook stepped forward, Seungmin shifted his lead foot and took another angle, slowly narrowing the available space until Jungkook was being guided toward the corner without ever being directly chased there. Seungmin threw a quick combination when Jungkook's back foot approached the edge of the canvas, but Jungkook brought his gloves high and absorbed most of it against his guard before recognizing exactly what Seungmin was trying to do.

Instead of retreating, Jungkook planted his lead foot and pivoted sharply, turning his body off the angle Seungmin had created and stepping around him. Seungmin was suddenly the one who had to turn, and Jungkook reset his stance before taking another small step to his left. Seungmin tried again, circling and attempting to cut him off, but Jungkook was already reading it now. Each time Seungmin tried to close the door on one side of the ring, Jungkook slipped through the opening before it could shut, pivoting rather than giving up ground and refusing to let Seungmin decide where the exchange would happen.

Jungkook wasn't throwing nearly as much as he had in the first, choosing instead to jab when Seungmin stepped into range and touch the body when he got too close, then immediately move his feet again. Seungmin landed a couple of clean but relatively light shots when Jungkook mistimed an exit, but Jungkook answered by turning him, forcing him to reset his stance over and over until the frustration began showing in the way he reached for punches that weren't there. 

When the bell sounded, Jungkook backed toward his corner at a much steadier pace than he had after the first round. He sat down, breathing through his mouthguard while Namjoon immediately went to work with the towel, wiping sweat from his face and shoulders. Coach Hwang stood in front of him with his hands on his hips, looking simultaneously impressed and irritated. 

"Okay," Hwang said, nodding once. "You didn't do what he wanted." Jungkook nodded, still watching Seungmin across the ring as his opponent returned to his own corner. Hwang continued, "But you also didn't do fuck all." Namjoon laughed from behind Jungkook as he wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. "What did you land, three punches?" Hwang pointed directly at Jungkook. "That's a fucking tie, and they're one round away from taking the fight away from you. Don't even think about it. Consider yourself behind."

Jungkook frowned, pulling his mouthguard slightly forward with his tongue as he caught his breath. "He was trying to walk me into a goddamn corner." 

"Good," Hwang shot back immediately. "And you didn't let him. That's exactly what I wanted. But throw some fucking punches while you're doing it." 

Jungkook gave a frustrated huff, but there was a faint nod underneath it as Hwang leaned closer and lowered his voice. 

"You have better feet than him. Use them. Don't let him make this ugly, and don't make it boring just because you're trying to prove you can outmaneuver him. Touch him. Make him respect the jab. Then when he starts worrying about where you're going, that's when you start taking pieces of him." 

The referee was already calling the fighters back, and Jungkook pushed himself off the stool, rolling his shoulders once as he stood.

By the third round, Jungkook had stopped trying to force the fight into the shape he wanted and started reading the fighter standing in front of him instead. Seungmin came out circling again, trying to reproduce the same pressure with his feet that had nearly worked in the second, but Jungkook was already waiting for it this time.

When Seungmin stepped laterally, Jungkook cut him off rather than following, sliding his lead foot into the space Seungmin was trying to escape through and forcing him to reset. When Seungmin tried to answer with a combination, Jungkook kept his guard tight, slipping the first punch outside his shoulder and catching the next one against his gloves before stepping back into range with a jab.

The exchanges were cleaner now, less frantic than the opening rounds, and Jungkook could feel himself beginning to understand the rhythm of Seungmin's movement. He knew when the other man wanted to circle, knew when he was trying to draw him forward, and more importantly, he was no longer giving Seungmin the reaction he wanted. Jungkook wasn't chasing him anymore. He was making him move.

By the fourth, that patience started paying him back. Jungkook's jab began finding its mark more consistently, touching Seungmin's face and chest before a right hand followed whenever the opening appeared, and Seungmin's movements became increasingly sharp with irritation.

During one exchange, Jungkook stepped inside behind a double jab and landed a short right hand before pivoting away, and as they reset, he could hear Seungmin talking through his mouthguard, his voice muffled but still clear enough to reach him.

"That's it? Thought you were supposed to be good."

Jungkook didn't answer. He kept his gloves tucked against his cheeks, eyes fixed on Seungmin's shoulders as he shifted his weight, and when Seungmin stepped forward again, Jungkook met him with a compact combination that drove him backward toward the corner. Seungmin managed to pivot off the ropes before Jungkook could trap him, slipping around the side and reclaiming the center, but Jungkook didn't follow recklessly. He turned with him, resetting his feet beneath him as Seungmin continued talking.

"You're gonna keep hiding behind your coach? Need him to talk you through every fucking round?" Jungkook heard the words, but they barely registered anymore. The voice was just another sound in the arena, no different from the crowd or the instructions coming from his corner. Then, during another brief exchange, Seungmin's mouth moved again and the next question reached him.

"How's Jimin doing?"

Jungkook's jaw tightened around his mouthguard, but nothing else changed. He didn't look toward the VIP section, didn't glare at Seungmin, didn't throw harder because of the name. He simply slipped the next jab, came back with a clean shot to the body, and moved out before Seungmin could answer.

When the bell rang, Jungkook stepped away immediately and made his way back to the corner, his breathing controlled despite the sweat running down the sides of his face. He dropped onto the stool, and Coach Hwang was already leaning over the ropes, watching him closely.

"Good," Hwang said, and Jungkook looked up at him with a slight furrow between his brows.

"What?"

Hwang pointed toward the opposite corner. "You heard him, and you didn't bite. Keep doing that. He wants you emotional because he can't control you with the boxing, so let him talk. Don't answer him. Don't even look at him when he says Jimin's name. You stay in the fight."

Jungkook nodded as Namjoon wiped the sweat from his forehead and ran the towel along the back of his neck.

The fifth round began with a different kind of tension. Seungmin was still moving, but the patience he'd shown earlier was starting to disappear, and Jungkook could see it in the way his punches came out. They were harder now, but they were also wider, less disciplined, with hooks beginning to loop around instead of snapping cleanly through the openings Jungkook had been giving him.

Jungkook stayed composed and picked his moments, stepping off the center line whenever Seungmin loaded up and answering with straighter punches before moving again. A hard right hand grazed Jungkook's cheek, enough to make his head turn slightly, but he recovered immediately, brought his guard back into place, and returned with a short combination that forced Seungmin to retreat. The more Seungmin missed, the more frustrated he seemed to become, and Jungkook could feel that frustration building every time he made him reset.

Seungmin was becoming impatient because Jungkook had figured him out, and the realization settled through Jungkook with a quiet confidence. He'd gotten into Seungmin's head without saying a single fucking word, and Seungmin hadn't managed to get inside his.

He could hear Seungmin breathing harder now, could see the irritation written across his face, and for the first time Jungkook felt almost calm.

'Fuck you', he thought, settling back into his stance.

When the bell finally sounded, Jungkook returned to his corner without the frantic energy he'd carried there after the first round. He sat down as Namjoon immediately moved in with the towel, wiping the sweat from his face before stopping to examine the side of Jungkook's cheek. There was a small smear of blood near the corner of his mouth, probably from the punch he'd taken earlier, and Namjoon gently wiped it away with the towel before checking the cut again.

"He's getting desperate," Namjoon said, keeping his voice low enough that only the corner could hear him.

Jungkook touched the corner of his mouth with his tongue, tasting the faint metallic edge of blood before wiping his glove against his shorts. "He's gonna keep talking."

Coach Hwang crouched in front of him and met his eyes, completely unfazed.

"Let him." He took the water bottle from Namjoon and held it out while Jungkook leaned forward for a quick drink. "He's running out of things he can do with his hands, so now he's trying to use his mouth. Don't give him the satisfaction. You've got him frustrated, you've got him reaching, and you're landing cleaner. Keep your head, keep your feet underneath you, and make him come to you."

Jungkook swallowed, breathing steadily through his nose as the roar of the crowd rolled over the ropes. He glanced across the ring only once, watching Seungmin sit in his own corner while his team worked over him, and then his eyes returned to Hwang.

"Got it."

Hwang nodded and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. "Good. Because he's about to get desperate."

The sixth-round bell rang, and Jungkook came off his stool with his guard already high, meeting Seungmin near the center of the ring before either man could establish much distance. The first exchange was brief but sharp, Jungkook stepping in behind his jab and Seungmin answering with a combination that Jungkook caught mostly on his gloves before firing back with a right hand and a short hook.

They separated, circled, then closed the distance again, and for the first few moments Jungkook couldn't quite put his finger on what felt different. Seungmin was still moving, still trying to find angles, but the frantic edge he'd carried through the previous round seemed to have settled. His punches weren't coming as wide, his feet weren't crossing over themselves as often, and there was something more deliberate about the way he was watching Jungkook.

Maybe he'd gotten a few words from his corner. Maybe he'd finally realized that trying to provoke Jungkook wasn't working. Whatever it was, Jungkook noticed it, and for the first time in several minutes, he wondered if Seungmin had finally gotten his head back into the fight.

They circled again, Jungkook's back gradually drifting toward his own corner as Seungmin moved laterally in front of him. Jungkook kept his lead hand extended just enough to measure the distance, his eyes tracking Seungmin's shoulders and hips rather than the gloves themselves, waiting for the next movement. Then Seungmin simply stopped.

Everything about him went still.

Jungkook slowed automatically, his feet settling beneath him as he watched Seungmin standing several feet away. The other man wasn't circling anymore. He wasn't feinting. He wasn't throwing. His hands had dropped just slightly from their usual position, enough that Jungkook could see more of his face behind the gloves, and for a second Jungkook wondered if the referee had called something he hadn't heard over the crowd.

What the fuck?

He took a cautious testing step forward, expecting Seungmin to retreat or angle away, but Seungmin didn't move. Jungkook stopped again, his instincts beginning to prickle beneath the adrenaline. Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but every part of his training told him not to walk blindly into something he didn't understand. He kept his guard tight and watched Seungmin carefully, waiting for the trap.

Then Seungmin's eyes moved past him.

The change in his expression was so sudden that Jungkook barely had time to register it. His eyes widened, and the irritation that had been there all night vanished beneath something that looked dangerously close to shock. His gaze stayed fixed somewhere behind Jungkook, and then, before Jungkook could turn, Seungmin spat his mouthguard onto the canvas.

"Jimin?" He breathed out.

The name cut through everything. Jungkook's head snapped toward the crowd before he could stop himself and His heart lurched as his eyes searched the VIP section, instantly looking for Jimin, and he found him exactly where he'd been sitting, visible beneath the arena lights. Jimin was upright, watching the ring, and for one confused second Jungkook couldn't understand why Seungmin had said his name at all. Why had he looked past him? Why had he sounded afraid?

Then something struck the back of Jungkook's head.

Thump.

He didn't even understand what he'd heard. His vision seemed to jump sideways, and suddenly his legs weren't underneath him anymore. His knees slammed down to the canvas before he could catch himself, and the rest of his body followed. For several seconds, Jungkook couldn't figure out what was happening.

The canvas felt strangely cold, and the roar of the arena had become something distant and distorted, as if he were hearing it from underwater. His ears were ringing so loudly that it swallowed almost every other sound, while the lights above him smeared into bright, unfocused shapes whenever he tried to look up. He blinked hard, once, twice, trying to make sense of why he was on the fucking floor when he was supposed to be standing.

Then a face appeared directly in front of him.

Namjoon had ducked beneath the ropes and dropped into a crouch beside him, one hand braced against the canvas while the other moved into Jungkook's line of sight. He snapped his fingers once, then again, waiting until Jungkook's unfocused eyes finally found him.

"Jungkook. Hey. Look at me."

Jungkook stared at him, blinking slowly. His thoughts felt delayed, like they were struggling to catch up with what his body was telling him. "What the fuck?" He rasped out.

"Dude, are you okay?" Namjoon's voice was clearer now, though the ringing remained underneath it, high and relentless.

Jungkook swallowed and tried to push himself up, but the moment he shifted his weight, the canvas seemed to move beneath him. His arms trembled slightly, and he stopped, squeezing his eyes shut for a second as a wave of dizziness rolled through his head.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked, the confusion in his voice sharper now.

Namjoon's expression hardened. "That motherfucker rabbit-punched you."

Jungkook stared at him for a beat, trying to make the words fit together. Rabbit-punched, The back of his head. His glove came up instinctively, pressing against the back of his skull, and a sharp, throbbing ache immediately pulsed through the spot he'd been hit. He sucked in a breath and grimaced.

"Fuck."

"Easy," Namjoon said, reaching underneath Jungkook's arm. "Come on. Get up."

Jungkook tried to plant his feet beneath him, but his knees wobbled as soon as he pushed himself upright. Namjoon caught him before he could lose his balance, wrapping an arm firmly around his back and taking some of his weight while Jungkook steadied himself. He hated needing the help, but his head was still swimming badly enough that he didn't have much room to argue.

And then Jungkook heard shouting, and he turned his head toward the opposite side of the ring. Coach Hwang was already halfway across the canvas. He'd ducked beneath the ropes and was storming toward Seungmin's corner, fury written across his face as the referee moved between him and the opposing team. Hwang pointed aggressively toward Seungmin, his voice carrying through the returning roar of the arena.

"What the fuck was that?!"

The referee immediately shoved an arm toward Hwang's chest, forcing him backward. "Back to your corner!"

"That was the back of his fucking head!" Hwang shouted, pointing directly at Seungmin. "You saw it! You fucking saw it!"

Jungkook stared at him, still trying to process the scene. His ears were beginning to clear, the crowd slowly separating into individual sounds again, but everything still felt slightly wrong, as if his brain hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he'd been knocked down.

The medical team reached him then. One medic stood directly in front of Jungkook while another remained nearby, watching him carefully. The first medic caught his gaze and spoke slowly over the noise.

"What's your name?"

"Jeon Jungkook."

"Where are you?"

He glanced around the arena before answering, his breathing still uneven. "The arena."

The medic nodded, and tried to hold up his fingers wanting to continue the breif examination, but Jungkook was already pulling away. Namjoon's arm remained around him for another moment, keeping him steady as he shifted his weight fully onto his own legs.

"I'm fucking fine."

"Jungkook, just take a second—"

"I'm fine."

He took a careful step toward his corner. His legs held. The dizziness was still there, lingering at the edges of his vision, and the back of his head throbbed with every beat of his heart, but he could walk. Namjoon stayed close beside him anyway, one hand hovering near Jungkook's back without making a show of it.

Instinctively Jungkook looked toward the crowds and He found Jimin almost immediately.

Jimin was standing now in the VIP section, one hand gripping the barrier in front of him. His face had gone pale, his eyes wide and fixed entirely on Jungkook, and even from across the arena, Jungkook could see the fear written all over him.

Jungkook's jaw tightened.

That motherfucker had used Jimin. The realization cut through the remaining haze with a burst of anger so sharp it nearly eclipsed the pain in his head.

"He fucking used Jimin," Jungkook said. "He used him to make me turn my fucking head."

Namjoon's expression hardened. "He realized you weren't playing his game anymore, so he tried to make one."

Jungkook's eyes stayed on Jimin for another second. The worried look on his face made something twist violently in Jungkook's chest. Jimin had seen him go down. He'd seen him sitting there on the canvas, confused and barely able to hear anything.

Jungkook hated that. He hated that Seungmin had put that look on Jimin's face.

Hwang rushed back toward them the second Jungkook reached the corner. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Jungkook turned toward him, breathing hard, anger now burning hotter than the ache in his skull. "He fucking used Jimin. He used him to make me turn my goddamn head."

"I know," Hwang said immediately. "I saw it."

Hwang studied Jungkook's face, watching for any sign that the dizziness was getting worse. "You sure you're okay to continue?"

Jungkook's eyes snapped toward him.

"Don't even ask me that." He shoved his gloves together once, forcing himself to steady his breathing as the referee began calling them back toward the center of the ring. His head still hurt. His vision still felt slightly strange around the edges. But the confusion was fading, replaced by something colder and much more focused. "Start the round right fucking now."

Hwang held his gaze for another second before finally nodding. He turned toward the referee and gave the signal that Jungkook was ready. Namjoon stepped back through the ropes, leaving Jungkook in his corner as the crowd continued roaring around them.

Jungkook raised his gloves. Across the ring, Seungmin was already waiting. The referee called them toward the center, and Jungkook stepped forward, his eyes settling on Seungmin's chest.

He wasn't looking away again.

 He moved lightly on the balls of his feet, gloves high against his cheeks, his eyes fixed on Seungmin’s chest instead of his face as they circled one another. Seungmin was breathing harder now, his shoulders rising and falling beneath his gloves, but there was still enough of that smugness left in his expression for him to try again.

“Didn't like that, huh, lover boy?” he said through his mouthguard, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Got you looking at him instead of me.”

Jungkook gave him nothing. He didn't even blink. Seungmin threw a shot that caught Jungkook along the guard and clipped the side of his cheek, but Jungkook absorbed it, rolled with the impact, and kept moving, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd been heard.

“What's wrong?” Seungmin pressed, circling with him. “Jimin not watching? Did I scare him?”

Still nothing.

That silence seemed to irritate him more than any insult could have. Seungmin stepped in again, and Jungkook met him halfway, slipping outside the first punch before driving a straight right across his face. Seungmin's head snapped to the side, and before he could fully recover, Jungkook stepped in behind it with a left hook that caught him along the cheek and forced him backward. Seungmin tried to answer with a combination of his own, but Jungkook was already moving, catching one shot on his gloves before slipping the next and returning with a short right hand to the body. The punch landed with a dull thud beneath his elbow. Jungkook followed with another quick one-two, the second shot snapping against Seungmin guard hard enough to make him stumble a half-step.

The crowd surged with every clean connection, the noise rolling over Jungkook until it felt like the entire arena had narrowed down to the space between the two of them. He picked his openings, took them, and moved before Seungmin could answer, watching the irritation spread across the other man's face as every attempt to provoke him disappeared into nothing.

By the time the bell rang, Seungmin was backing away toward his corner, breathing heavily. Jungkook turned and walked to his own, chest rising and falling as he wiped his mouth with the back of his glove. Namjoon immediately held out the water bottle, but Jungkook shook his head before it could even reach him.

“I wanna go back in there.”

Coach Hwang looked at him for a long moment, then leaned closer, his voice cutting through the noise around them. “Jungkook, end this fight right fucking now.”

Jungkook nodded once, his eyes already back on Seungmin across the ring. 

Seungmin's footwork had lost some of its sharpness, his breathing had become heavier, and the punches that had once come back quickly were now arriving a fraction of a second too late. The crowd was deafening now, but Jungkook could still hear the slap of gloves, the squeak of shoes against canvas, the ragged breath coming from behind seungmin's mouthguard. They circled, and for several seconds neither threw. Then Seungmin spoke.

“You know he's never gonna love you when he's scared of you, right?”

Jungkook's eyebrows drew together.

Seungmin mouth curled into another smile. “You're not protecting him. You're just giving him another person to be afraid of.”

For one second, Jungkook went completely still. Seungmin saw it and smiled wider, clearly believing he'd finally found something that could get underneath his skin.

But there was nothing, No argument, No flash of anger,  No thought about what he had said.

Just movement.

Jungkook's jab shot forward. Seungmin raised his glove and blocked it, but the right hand came immediately behind it, driving cleanly through the opening and catching him across the jaw. His head snapped backward, and his feet tangled beneath him as he stumbled. Jungkook was already there before he could recover, stepping inside and ripping a left hook across his face. Seungmins legs buckled, and he crashed backward into the ropes.

Jungkook followed. He threw another combination, left hand to the body, right hand upstairs, then another hook as Seungmin desperately covered his head with both gloves. The ropes shuddered behind him with every impact. Seungmin tried to answer, but his punches were smothered before they could develop, and Jungkook kept stepping with him, cutting off every escape route. The sound of the crowd became almost impossible to separate from the pounding in Jungkook's ears. He threw again. And again. He didn't know how many punches he'd landed, and he didn't care. All he knew was that Seungmin wasn't defending himself anymore.

Then suddenly there were arms around him.

“That's it! That's it!” The referee shouted while he hauled Jungkook backward, forcing him several steps away from the corner. Jungkook stood there breathing hard, his gloves still raised, staring down at his own feet as he tried to understand why the fight had stopped.

Then he looked up and Seungmin was down against the ropes, slumped awkwardly against the canvas, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. His gloves shifted, and his hand tapped against the mat.

Once.

Twice.

He fucking tapped out.

Coach Hwang was already rushing toward him, ducking between the ropes and slapping him hard across the back. “That's what the fuck I'm talking about!” he shouted, laughing over the roar of the arena. “You got that motherfucker to tap out after he rabbit punched you! That's how you finish a fight!”

Jungkook barely heard him.

His lungs were burning. Sweat ran down the side of his face, and his heartbeat seemed to be hammering against every bone in his body. He stood in the middle of the ring, still trying to process the fact that it was over, 

The referee stepped toward him through the noise and caught Jungkook by the wrist, lifting his arm high above his head as the announcer’s voice boomed across the arena, stretching his name out over the speakers while the crowd erupted around him. For a second, Jungkook simply stared at his own raised hand, his chest still heaving as the realization slowly made its way through the adrenaline flooding his body. 

'Holy shit... I won.'

The thought landed with a strange kind of weight, almost too simple for everything that had just happened. He had actually fucking won.

His eyes drifted across the ring toward Seungmin, who was still down near the ropes while his medical team crouched around him, checking him over as the referee and officials gave them space. Jungkook watched him for a moment, jaw still tight, and the first thought that came to him was almost embarrassingly petty. 

'Should've fucking spit on him.'

He let out a breath through his nose, still staring at him as the anger from the fight simmered beneath the exhaustion. The motherfucker really thought he could use Jimin against him. Thought he could say his name, make Jungkook turn his head, and get inside his fucking head like that.

Jungkook's head snapped toward the crowd. 

Where's Jimin?

He scanned the rows beyond the barricades,  his stomach tightened before he finally caught sight of the VIP section. And his eyes settled on his whole world. Jimin was already on his feet in the VIP section, smiling so brightly that Jungkook could see it even from across the arena. Taehyung was beside him, shouting something that disappeared beneath the noise, but Jungkook didn't look anywhere else.

He smiled, Then he walked away from the center of the ring. Someone called his name. Cameras flashed from every direction. A microphone was shoved toward him from outside the ropes, and reporters were already shouting questions, but Jungkook ducked beneath the ropes without giving any of them an answer. He crossed the small distance toward the VIP section with his gloves still on, his chest continuing to rise and fall as Jimin watched him approach with an increasingly confused expression.

“What are you doing?” Jimin called, laughing nervously as Jungkook came closer.

Jungkook just smiled. “Come here.”

He stuck out his gloved hands and helped him carefully over the barrier separating the VIP section from the arena floor. The moment Jimin landed on the other side, Jungkook slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

Jimin barely had time to react before Jungkook kissed him.

It was deep and unrestrained, the kind of kiss that seemed to carry everything Jungkook hadn't been able to say during the fight. Jimin froze for half a second in pure surprise before laughing against his mouth and wrapping his arms around Jungkook, kissing him back.

When they finally separated, Jimin was grinning.

“You won, right?”

Jungkook laughed breathlessly, resting his forehead against Jimin's for a moment. “Yes. I won.”

Around them, the arena had erupted all over again. Cameras flashed rapidly, reporters shouted his name, and someone from the media called, “Jungkook! How does it feel to win?” Though Jungkook ignored every single one of them.

Jimin looked over his face, taking in the swelling beginning around his cheek, the sweat still dampening his hair, and the small smear of blood near the corner of his mouth. His smile softened.

“Your face still looks pretty.”

Jungkook laughed, pulling him closer as the cameras continued flashing around them.

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Park Jimin ✪  @Pj_Jimin

I have seen the statement that was recently shared regarding my professional relationship with my former director, and I wanted to clarify a few things myself.

First, I want to be clear that I did not ask anyone to speak on my behalf, nor have I been unable to make my own decisions. I am fully capable of speaking for myself, and I am doing so now.

I also want to clarify one point regarding my former director's departure. She did not step away from my position by personal choice. Her employment as my director was ended by the company. I don't feel it is appropriate to discuss the private circumstances surrounding that decision publicly, and I won't.

What I will say is that I am comfortable with where I am now, and I stand behind the people who have supported me throughout this period.

That includes Jungkook.

He has never made decisions for me, and he has never asked me to choose between him and my career. He has supported me, listened to me, and respected my decisions even when they were difficult. The idea that my relationship with him means I am incapable of thinking or speaking for myself is simply not true.

I am with the person I love, and more importantly, I could not be happier with where I am in my life right now.

This will be the last time I respond publicly to anything regarding this situation. I have said what I needed to say, and I hope that going forward, my privacy, my career, and my relationship will be respected.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me.

♡ 485kㅤ   🗨️47k      ⌲21k

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——————————————

"Jimin, you're gonna worry yourself sick," Jungkook said.

They stood just outside the entrance to the dance department, tucked into the quieter stretch of hallway that separated the dance studios from the rest of the facility. Three weeks had passed since the fight, and somehow the building looked exactly the same as it always had, with the polished floors, framed competition photographs, and glass panels revealing pieces of the studios beyond them, yet Jimin couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing in front of something completely different from the place he'd known for years. His hands were folded between Jungkook's, and Jungkook's thumbs moved slowly over his knuckles in a repetitive, soothing motion, as if he could physically rub some of the tension out of Jimin's fingers.

Jimin took a slow breath through his nose and let it out just as carefully. "I know. I know," he murmured, looking down briefly at their hands before lifting his eyes again. "But, fuck, you understand why, right?"

"I do," Jungkook said softly. "Baby, I understand exactly why you're worried, but Hoseok left a really good review on her. You trust Hoseok's opinion, don't you?" Jimin nodded reluctantly, and Jungkook gave his hands another gentle squeeze. "I know you do. And guess what? If you don't like her, you can fire her."

Jimin's eyebrows pulled together. "I can't just fire someone because I don't like them."

"That's actually exactly what you can do."

"I know, just..." Jimin exhaled and looked toward the closed studio doors ahead of them. "I don't want another Kang."

Jungkook's expression softened immediately. He lifted one of Jimin's hands slightly, brushing his thumb across the back of it before saying,

"Listen to me. I don't think there's gonna be another director in the world who's gonna dare treat you the way Kang did, especially after all the backlash she's getting now. That woman has people watching her from every direction. She'd have to be pretty fucking stupid to try something like that again, and honestly, I don't think anybody is stupid enough to look at what happened to her and think, 'Yeah, I want that.'"

A reluctant laugh escaped Jimin before he could stop it, and he shook his head. "You're an idiot."

"Maybe," Jungkook said, grinning. "But I'm an idiot who's right."

Jimin rolled his eyes, but some of the tension in his shoulders finally loosened, and Jungkook leaned forward to press a soft kiss against his forehead. He stayed there for a moment before pulling back enough to look at him.

"Look, I gotta go see Seokjin so he can finally clear me from this stupid fucking concussion, but once you're done with your first rehearsal, I'll be here. I want you to tell me all about it, okay? And if it goes well, we can go celebrate with ice cream." Jungkook said while he wiggled his eyebrows.

Jimin stared at him for a second before laughing. "You use anything as an excuse to get ice cream."

"You can blame your fucking friend Taehyung for introducing me to Cookie Monster flavor."

Jimin laughed again, but the smile faded slightly when his eyes drifted back toward the studio doors. "But what if it goes bad?"

"Then it goes bad," Jungkook answered without hesitation. "We tell the board it's not gonna work, and you find a new one. That's it. How many people applied to be your director again?"

Jimin sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Seventy-two."

Jungkook's eyebrows shot up. "Seventy fucking two. We have room, babe." He gave Jimin's hands one last squeeze before letting them go. "You don't have to make this person work. You just have to meet her."

Jimin nodded, drawing another breath as he glanced toward the studio. "Okay."

"Get in there."

"Okay."

Jungkook leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, smiling against him before pulling away. "Good luck."

Jimin smiled faintly. "Go get cleared."

Jungkook started down the hallway, glancing back once before disappearing around the corner, and Jimin watched him go until he was out of sight. The moment he was alone again, the warmth of the conversation seemed to drain away just enough for the nervousness he'd been holding at bay to creep back in. He rubbed his thumbs together, then caught himself doing it and deliberately let his hands fall to his sides.

He wasn't a nervous person.

Jimin had spent years standing in front of judges, reporters, cameras, packed auditoriums, and entire rooms of people waiting to decide whether he was good enough. He knew how to walk into an unfamiliar space with his shoulders straight and his expression composed. He knew how to answer difficult questions without letting anyone see uncertainty on his face. He had learned how to perform under pressure so thoroughly that sometimes he didn't even have to think about it anymore.

But this was different.

Anything involving a director seemed to reach somewhere deeper than ordinary nerves could touch. The title itself carried too much history now, too many memories attached to it, too many years of having someone else determine when he ate, when he rested, when he trained, what he was allowed to say, and what parts of himself he was expected to sacrifice for the sake of being better. Even though Kang was gone, even though Jimin had stood in that boardroom and watched them terminate her employment, some part of him still seemed to expect the next person waiting behind a studio door to eventually become the same woman wearing a different face.

He hated that his mind did that, and He hated even more that he couldn't seem to stop it.

Jimin finally stepped toward the studio he'd spent so many years calling his own. The room was usually reserved for him, a space he knew better than almost anywhere else in the facility, and yet standing outside it now felt strangely unfamiliar. He stopped with his hand hovering near the door handle, staring at it for a moment before slowly wrapping his fingers around the metal.

He took one more breath…Then he pushed the door open.

Hoseok stood several feet into the studio with his back partially turned toward the door, and beside him was a woman, the two of them caught in the middle of a conversation. They were laughing about something, not the polite kind of laughter people used when they were meeting for the first time, but something easy and genuine that made Hoseok's shoulders shake slightly as he tried to finish whatever story he had been telling. Jimin stopped just inside the doorway, his hand still resting against the handle, and for one strange second he simply watched them.

The woman looked younger than Kang had, probably somewhere in her early thirties, with short brown hair that brushed just below her ears and soft bangs falling across her forehead. There was nothing particularly formal about the way she was dressed. she wore a plain black T-shirt tucked loosely into a pair of baggy blue jeans, with simple sneakers and no obvious attempt to make herself look like someone important. She looked comfortable, almost deliberately so, and there was something immediately disarming about seeing someone who was supposed to be his new director dressed like she could have walked into the facility as another dancer rather than the person who would eventually be responsible for overseeing his career.

Both of them looked toward him at the sound of the door closing.

"There you are!" Hoseok beamed

Jimin gave him a small, nervous smile. "Hi."

Hoseok immediately walked toward him, and before Jimin could figure out what to do with his hands, Hoseok lightly caught him by the arm and guided him farther into the studio. The woman turned fully toward him, and her smile widened so quickly that Jimin almost found himself smiling back automatically.

"Hi," she said brightly, extending her hand. "I'm so happy to finally meet you. I've been so, so excited ever since I found out I was picked to be your director."

Jimin looked down at her outstretched hand for the briefest moment before taking it. Her handshake was warm and firm without being overly forceful,.

"I'm Jimin," he said, then realized how ridiculous that sounded and gave a tiny laugh. "I mean, obviously. It's nice to meet you."

She laughed with him instead of making him feel embarrassed for it. "I'm Han Seoyeon. And yes, obviously I know who you are, but I figured I'd let you introduce yourself anyway."

Jimin felt something inside him loosen by a fraction.

"Nice to meet you, Seoyeon."

"Likewise." She glanced toward Hoseok with an amused smile. "I was just talking to Hoseok, actually. I wanted some inside information before you got here, so I could at least pretend I know what I'm doing."

Hoseok scoffed. "Pretend?"

Jimin let out a quiet laugh, and Hoseok shook his head.

It was such a small thing, barely worth noticing, but Jimin found himself staring at the two of them for another second. Hoseok was relaxed around her. He wasn't guarded, wasn't watching her carefully or choosing his words or carrying the subtle tension he used to carry whenever Kang entered a room. Seoyeon seemed equally comfortable with him, and the ease between them made something warm flicker through Jimin's chest.

Maybe this really was going to be okay.

Seoyeon walked toward one of the bags she'd left near the mirrors. She crouched down, picked up a folder from the floor, and flipped it open as she spoke.

"So, tell me if I'm going too fast, because I know this is literally our first day meeting, but there is a competition in America in about four months, and I think that actually gives us plenty of time."

Jimin's attention immediately moved toward her.

"Four months?"

"Mm-hm." She flipped through several pages. "It's enough time that we don't have to panic, which is what I like. We're still getting to know each other, obviously. I've watched your dancing for years, and I've watched your competition performances, but watching someone through a screen isn't the same thing as actually working with them."

She looked up at him.

"I know what your strengths are generally. I know what kind of movement you're capable of, and, for what it's worth, I think you're gorgeous when you dance. But I don't know the little things yet. I don't know what kind of training makes you feel strongest, what makes you feel exhausted, what styles you enjoy, what you absolutely hate, or how you like to build a routine. So," Seoyeon continued, tapping the edge of the folder against her palm, "for this first competition, I'm going to give you a lot of creative freedom."

"What do you mean?" Jimin asked furrowing his eyebrows.

"I mean I'm not going to walk in here on day one and start telling you exactly what you're going to dance." She gave him a small shrug. "That would be ridiculous. You're not some beginner I'm teaching from scratch. You've been doing this practically your entire life." She glanced briefly toward Hoseok. "And you've got Hoseok, So I think you and Hoseok should build something together. You know your body better than anyone else, and he knows your choreography better than almost anyone. I can help shape it, give you notes, watch what you're doing, but I don't see any reason why I should walk in here and immediately take control of every creative decision."

Jimin stared at her and or a moment, he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"You want me to choreograph my own dance?" The question slipped out quietly. Seoyeon's eyebrows lifted as though the answer should have been obvious.

"Yeah. Of course."

Jimin was at an absolute loss of words. He had spent so many years being told exactly what to do that the idea of being asked what he wanted felt strangely enormous.

"I hope this is all okay. I don't want you to think I'm trying to get ahead of myself or rush anything. I just think you would shine at this competition, and four months is enough time for us to figure out what that looks like together." she said.

Jimin finally looked toward Hoseok who was giving him an encouraging smile, and nodded his head signaling Jimin to respond.

"I think it's a great idea," Jimin said, turning back to face her.

Seoyeon's smile immediately widened. "Good." She looked back down at the folder and turned another page. "I've actually got a rough outline of what I think our training days could look like, but everything is flexible. If something doesn't work for you, you tell me. I'm thinking five days a week, Monday through Friday, probably seven in the morning until five in the afternoon. You can choose your lunch time depending on the day, because I don't want to pretend your body is going to need a break at exactly twelve every afternoon."

"Monday through Friday?" Jimin questioned, eyebrows raised. she nodded in response. "And Saturdays and Sundays off?"

Seoyeon looked up from the folder, genuinely puzzled. "Does that not work?"

"No, I—" Jimin caught himself. "No, that's fine."

"Good." She shrugged. "Honestly, you can pick any two days of the week if weekends don't work for you. I'll probably be here seven days a week anyway, so I can work around your schedule. I just figured most people enjoy having their weekends."

Jimin stared at her for another second, disbelief written over his whole body language.He could barely remember the last time someone had spoken about his schedule as though it belonged to him.

"That's awesome," he said, and the sincerity in his voice made Seoyeon laugh softly.

"Good. I'm glad." She closed the folder halfway and studied him for a moment, then glanced toward the open studio floor. "Okay. First things first, what style do you want to do?"

"Contemporary." he said immediately.

Seoyeon smiled. "Okay. Contemporary it is." She set the folder down and rolled her shoulders once, already shifting into a more practical mode. "For today, though, we're not doing anything crazy. You're just coming back, and I don't want your first day with me to be you trying to prove something."

"Just stretching?"

"Stretching, talking, getting a feel for where you're at. Maybe an hour, nothing more. I want to see how your body responds, and I want you to leave here feeling like you could've done more rather than wondering if you're going to be able to walk tomorrow."

"Okay." Jimin said with a slow nod, with hearing again, more foreign concepts.

Seoyeon smiled and reached for her things, carrying them toward the edge of the studio. "Then let's start there."

Jimin stood where he was for another moment, watching her move around the room as naturally as though she had been there for years. His gaze drifted briefly toward Hoseok again.

The moment their eyes met, Hoseok's smile turned knowing. He walked over and slipped an arm comfortably around Jimin's shoulders.

"Come on my muse.”

———————————————

Four months later,

Jimin came flying down the hallway with his dance shoes still on his feet, the soles tapping rapidly against the polished floor as he called out the only name he seemed capable of thinking about.

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook's head snapped toward the sound from farther down the hall. For half a second, surprise crossed his face before it broke into a grin, and Jimin didn't even slow down. He practically threw himself at him, both hands landing on Jungkook's shoulders as he used the momentum to launch himself upward. Jungkook laughed as his arms instinctively wrapped beneath Jimin's thighs, catching him easily and lifting him off the ground.

“You were so fucking beautiful,” Jungkook said immediately, his voice bright with excitement. “Gorgeous. That was fucking amazing.”

Jimin dissolved into a breathless laugh, wrapping both arms around Jungkook's shoulders as Jungkook held him securely against his chest.  “You really think so?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“I know so.” Jungkook leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Then another... And another. “You were incredible.”

“Okay, okay,” Jimin laughed, turning his face away as Jungkook continued peppering kisses along his cheek. “You're gonna make me fall.”

Jungkook finally lowered him back onto his feet, though his hands remained around Jimin's waist for another second before he let go. Jimin barely had time to straighten himself before hurried footsteps came echoing down the hallway behind him.

“Oh my God,” Hoseok wheezed.

Jimin turned around and immediately burst out laughing. Hoseok came around the corner looking like he had just run an entire marathon, one hand braced against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. In the other hand, he was clutching Jimin's first-place trophy.

“Jesus Christ,” Hoseok managed, looking between Jimin and Jungkook. “I shouldn't have to book it down a hallway at my age just because someone decided to sprint away immediately after winning.”

“You're the one who told me to go find him,” Jimin pointed out.

“I didn't tell you to run like your life depended on it!” Hoseok complained and finally reached them and held out the trophy. “Here, champion. You left this behind.”

Jimin looked down at it, something warm spread through his chest. He accepted it carefully, running his thumb over the edge before looking back up. Another set of footsteps came rushing toward them, followed by a familiar voice calling his name. Jimin looked up just as Seoyeon appeared around the corner.

She stopped the second she saw him.

“Oh my God!” Her entire face lit up, and she immediately hurried toward him. Jimin barely had time to laugh before she wrapped both arms around him, squeezing him tightly enough that he stumbled backward a step.

“That was amazing!” Seoyeon exclaimed. “Jimin, that was fucking amazing.” Jimin laughed into her shoulder before she pulled back, both hands immediately settling on his shoulders as she looked him over with an enormous grin. “And you got a perfect fucking score.”

Jimin's eyes widened. “I did?!”

“You did!” Seoyeon threw one hand up, and Jimin instinctively met it with his own. Their palms cracked together in a high five. “A perfect score, Every judge. I swear to God, if they had given you anything less, I would've demanded they pull out the scoring sheets and explain themselves.”

Hoseok snorted. “Honestly, I'm not surprised. If they gave him anything less than perfect, it would've been bullshit.”

“Exactly!” Seoyeon pointed at him. “Thankfully, the judges had some common fucking sense.”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head as warmth crawled up his cheeks. Being with Seoyeon he was getting more and more used to being complimented. At first every time she did Jimin would pause and wait for a “but” or search her face for the sarcasm, but there never was any.

She had spent the past four months asking what he wanted, listening when he answered, challenging him when she thought he could push himself and backing off the moment she thought he was doing too much. She had never treated his body like something she owned. She had never treated his career like something she had to control.

And today, standing in the hallway with his first-place trophy in his hands, Jimin realized just how much that had changed everything.

Seoyeon suddenly stepped back and pulled her phone from her pocket, "Picture time!" she exclaimed encouraging jimin to take a step back against the wall and straighten his posture.

Seoyeon lifted her phone, framing him through the screen. “Okay, Smile.” Jimin did so but then She lowered the phone slightly. “Wait. Jungkook, get in there.”

Jungkook laughed but stepped forward anyway, sliding an arm around Jimin's shoulders. Jimin leaned instinctively into his side, trophy held proudly against his chest as Seoyeon lifted the phone again.

“Perfect.” she treated out as The camera clicked. Jimin watched her glance down at the picture before her smile somehow grew even wider. “One for the record book.”

Jimin looked at the photograph over her shoulder, and something inside him went strangely quiet. He was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt, his first-place trophy held against his chest, Jungkook standing beside him with his arm around his shoulders. Seoyeon had caught him at the exact moment when the happiness on his face hadn't been filtered or controlled. He didn't look exhausted. He didn't look afraid.

The feeling pressed against Jimin's chest so suddenly that he had to blink a few times. If he hadn't been smiling so hard, he wasn't sure whether he would have laughed or cried. Maybe both.

Seoyeon tapped at her phone again, apparently scrolling through something. “Oh,” she said suddenly. “I was looking at this place this morning.”

Hoseok immediately looked suspicious. “What place?”

“Chinese restaurant.”

“Absolutely not.”

Seoyeon looked up. “Why?”

“American Chinese food.” Hoseok crossed his arms. “You can't take me halfway across the world and then tell me we're celebrating with American Chinese food.”

“They have a four-star rating on Google.”

“That means nothing.”

“They have huge portions.” she said and Hoseok paused, Seoyeon smiled knowingly. “Exactly.” Jimin laughed as Hoseok reluctantly glanced at her phone. “If we don't finish it,” Seoyeon continued, scrolling through the menu, “we can just take it back to the hotel. It'll be late anyway. We can have leftovers tonight.”

“I'll allow it,” Hoseok finally said.

“You're so generous.” she replied earring an eyeball from Hoseok, Seoyeon continued scrolling for another moment before her expression shifted slightly. She glanced toward the end of the hallway, then back at Jimin.

“Oh, and there are some reporters outside.” She recalled. Jimin's smile remained, but he noticed the immediate change in her tone. “You don't have to talk to them,” she continued. “Seriously. If you don't want to, I'll tell them to fuck off.”

Jimin blinked.

Seoyeon shrugged. “I don't care. Half the media out there was posting bullshit last month wondering whether you could even handle another competition after everything that happened. So if you don't feel like giving them a quote today, they can survive without one.”

Jimin stared at her for a second before laughing softly. It was such a simple thing, But there had been a time when the idea of refusing a reporter would have felt impossible to him. There had been a time when someone else would have decided what he said, where he stood, when he smiled, and what version of himself the public was allowed to see. Seoyeon was standing there telling him he didn't owe anyone anything.

Jungkook glanced at Jimin. “I can handle the go-fuck-yourself part if you need backup.”

Seoyeon pointed at him. “See? That's why I like having him around.”

Hoseok shook his head, laughing under his breath as the four of them began walking down the hallway together. Jimin looked down at the trophy still resting securely in his hands.

The weight of it felt different than the trophies waiting for him back at the facility, This one was his.

Jungkook slipped his hand into Jimin's as they continued down the hallway, squeezing it once and Jimin squeezed back. For the first time in a very long time, he wasn't thinking about what came next.

He was simply happy to be there.