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They say love makes people do all sorts of stupid things and, for Jeongguk, who's just about running on four cups of double shot espresso and two energy drinks after doing an all-nighter for his class requirements, the old adage rings so much truer now than it ever did when he first heard it.
The fansign venue is teeming with people, mostly teenage girls with their big ass cameras and big colorful placards, and Jeongguk, not even two minutes in, already feels the overwhelming urge to hightail it out of here. He can already feel too many sets of curious eyes fixed on him as he heads to the rows of chairs set up for the wait and, while this isn't exactly the first time people had ogled him simply for being a male fan, Jeongguk still hates it all the same.
But he's here for Bangtan, his favorite idol group, and no amount of fangirls and their ear-piercing screams and surprised stares can stop Jeongguk from meeting them up close again.
Jeongguk fiddles with his DSLR in an attempt to occupy himself. He still has a few minutes left before the event is set to start and he wisely makes use of that time by triple checking if he's slotted the new memory card in place and tinkering around with the correct settings of his camera to suit the lighting of the venue.
"Excuse me," someone suddenly says. Jeongguk looks up, curious, and finds a girl peering at his direction, blonde hair tucked behind her ears. "Um. Please correct me if I'm wrong but...you're MinMonarch, right?"
Jeongguk blinks. It takes a second for the question to settle in his muddled brain, and then another three whole seconds to figure out that the girl is actually talking to him, and not some other person in the venue like Jeongguk had initially hoped.
"Yeah," Jeongguk eventually says then, when he finally gets his mouth to work, bowing. There's already a nice flush crawling up the apple of his cheeks, and Jeongguk hopes he doesn't look as warm as he feels. "It's nice to meet you."
"Oh, gosh, I can't believe it's really you," she all but screeches, her voice reaching an octave higher, "I'm so in love with all your photos of Suga. You're really good, oppa!"
Jeongguk tries not to visibly cringe at that and immediately gives himself a pat on the back for the herculean effort. Before he can even open his mouth and thank her for the compliment, however, a staff member suddenly calls out to the crowd and asks them to queue up, patiently motioning for each row to form proper lines as the event is just about to start.
Unfortunately, the row he's in advances at a snail rate and Jeongguk ends up taking multiple shots of Yoongi and then some as he moves along, his album carefully wedged between his arm and his side. He's pretty engrossed with getting the right angle for his pictures that Jeongguk almost misses his turn, a stranger's hand on his back guiding him forward.
Jeongguk goes through the first few members at the table fairly quickly, as always, just the customary welcome greeting, a post-it or two for them to answer, and then their signatures at the bottom of their respective pages. Meeting the members of BTS is just as warm and exciting as his last—only, this time around, Jeongguk has gotten way more comfortable at bantering with Yoongi. Too comfortable maybe, that Jeongguk had momentarily forgotten the long queue behind him and ended up conversing with his favorite member a little longer than what was allowed.
"If you're already done, please move along. There are still a lot of fans waiting for their turn and you're holding up the line," someone suddenly says. Jeongguk looks up and is immediately met by a stern stare of one Park Jimin, the short but very reliable manager of Bangtan. Jeongguk had seen and heard fans gush over how pretty he was up close and, well, they're not exactly wrong in that regard—he is pretty, but definitely scary. Jeongguk didn't think someone so tiny could be that terrifying.
Jimin leaves them alone after that—to find another poor, unsuspecting fan to scold, maybe—and Jeongguk snaps his gaze back to Yoongi as soon as their manager is out of sight. Yoongi only makes a slicing motion across his throat, his face scrunched into an apologetic expression, and Jeongguk can't help but laugh.
"Thanks for coming, Jeongguk-ah," Yoongi then says as he slides the album back to Jeongguk. Their fingers only brush for a millisecond, probably just the tiniest point of contact known to man, but Jeongguk swears the world just tilted right out of its goddamn axis.
As Jeongguk goes back to his seat, his heart still stuttering wildly in beat inside his chest, he bravely thinks he wouldn't mind getting a few more scoldings if it meant even the slightest possibility of having those moments with Yoongi again.
¤
Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately, depending on how you see it—Jeongguk manages to avoid any more run-ins with an angry Jimin.
He attends the rest of the fansigning events during the entirety of Bangtan's album promotions, and never misses the chance to see them perform live during music broadcast recordings. He even gets picked as one of the few lucky fans who can watch the live shooting of Hello Counselor, where some of the members are scheduled to appear as featured guests.
All in all, Jeongguk's been feeling pretty blessed the last few weeks and he wonders, briefly, if his luck will run out anytime soon.
Jeongguk doesn't get to dwell on that thought all that much, though, because someone abruptly bumps into him from behind, jostling him in place and making him almost lose his balance. He has a messenger bag slung across his shoulder, and Jeongguk defensively holds it closer to his body to avoid any possible damage on his precious camera nestled inside. There are a few grumbles and a lot of shouting not to push, people crowding each other just to get a better view of the makeshift stage up front, and Jeongguk finds himself helplessly stuck in the midst of it all.
When Jeongguk heard about Bangtan's plan to hold an open guerrilla concert as a gift to their fans, he'd never imagined it'd be this chaotic. Granted, they're a lot more famous now compared to their rookie days, but the concert is primarily set as a secret event, one that the company had announced, out of the blue, without exactly going into specifics until a few hours before.
Jeongguk, luckily, had just gotten out of his last exam for the day when the details were finally released and he'd headed straight to the venue in a mad rush, forgoing a bite of lunch and just settling for an ice cold Americano to bring on the road instead.
That seems to be a bad decision on his part now more than ever, though, because Jeongguk has been standing under the sweltering heat of the July sun for hours on end and he's starting to feel woozy and nauseated from the lack of space. As if that isn't enough, exhaustion has started to bog him down now, too, and Jeongguk blearily remembers that he hasn't actually slept in the last twenty-four hours because of finals week, as if that little detail alone would help him out somehow.
It doesn't, not one bit, and the buzzing in Jeongguk's head only grows more insistent with each passing second. Jeongguk's so lost in the haze of fatigue and stress and hunger that he barely feels movement around him, the crowd of people suddenly parting like a river to let the newcomer paw through.
"Hey," he hears someone murmur. Jeongguk blinks, tries to clear the blurred spots in front of his eyes to see who it is, to no avail. "Hey. Are you okay?"
Jeongguk wants to say he isn't, but his throat feels clogged all of a sudden and even the slightest shake of his head feels like too much work. So Jeongguk just ends up nodding, once, the inside of his brain sloshing against his skull.
"Stay with me, yeah?" Another whisper, now closer to his ear than ever. There are fingers delicately wrapping around his wrist and before Jeongguk can fully understand what's going on, an insistent tug on his arm moves him away from his spot on the congested street and into an open space.
He doesn't really know where the stranger is taking him, nor does he have the faintest idea of who it is, but Jeongguk's feeling too sluggish and much closer to being sick now more than ever to protest. So he just allows himself to be dragged along, helpless, like a puppet being maneuvered by invisible strings. It doesn't take long before the stranger is finally loosening his tight grip on Jeongguk, only to settle him down on a chair right after, away from the bustling noise and the heat of the crowd.
"You should stay here for a bit," the stranger tells him. "I don't think you're in the best condition to be joining those people out there."
Jeongguk groans. He still feels like death has run him over a thousand times but the light breeze caressing his face is helping him clear his head, little by little. The queasy lurch of his stomach has settled quite a bit, too, which Jeongguk is really thankful for because he's not sure he'll be able to throw anything up when he hasn't had a proper meal for the whole day.
In the distance, Jeongguk can somewhat hear the escalating roar of the crowd, the familiar beat of a song, and panic rises inside his mind as he remembers his main purpose. He forcefully pushes himself out of his seat then and, for one dizzying moment, the world tilts out of balance, the ground ascending fairly quickly under him. Jeongguk thinks he's going to fall flat on his face. He’s already bracing himself for the impact and the subsequent pain when he’s met by nothing but firm support from a hand on the small of his back.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Guerrilla concert," Jeongguk wheezes out. He finally shifts his head to look at the person beside him, eyes immediately widening in recognition. It's Jimin, with the exasperated frown of his eyebrows and the grim, angry set of his jaw, and he looks just as terrifying—and definitely just as pretty—as he had back during the fansign event. "I-I can't miss it."
"Like hell you can't," Jimin scoffs, "I'm not letting you go back there until you're feeling better."
"But I am feeling better!" Jeongguk insists, albeit still a little weakly. He tries to pull away, determined in his plan to show Jimin that he can stand on his own just fine, but it only takes a few seconds of wobbling and swaying on his feet for Jeongguk to fall embarrassingly back on his ass again.
Jimin raises a brow at him, clearly amused. "Right. I can obviously see that."
Jeongguk's cheeks redden in mortification and the sight alone has Jimin further cracking up at him. Even under the unforgiving sun, Jimin still looks pristine and sharp. Seeing him so well-put despite the pressure and constant stress is a little admirable and, yet, it strikes something deep and ugly inside of Jeongguk. He can’t help but feel inferior, somehow; Jimin must be no more than two years older than him, but they already live such different lives. Jeongguk is still struggling between school, his part time job, and his fandom life, which, to be perfectly honest, has taken more time, resources and attention than Jeongguk can allow. While Jimin is out here, seemingly worlds apart with a stable career and stylish clothes.
He knows he should stop—Jeongguk’s never been one to compare himself like this to other people. But with Jimin standing right next to him, looking like he has everything figured out and under control, Jeongguk just can’t help but wallow in that vile feeling.
“I feel like shit,” Jeongguk mutters. He doesn’t expect Jimin to hear him but Jimin still does, anyway. Jeongguk, in turn, catches his subtle laugh.
“You look like it too,” Jimin says. He easily hoists Jeongguk up despite their considerable height difference, and pats him on his lower back. “I bet my job you haven’t eaten anything for breakfast. Come on.”
Jeongguk raises his eyebrows. He wonders if he’s actually hearing things right. Maybe he did hit his head pretty hard earlier or something? “Huh?” He asks densely.
“I’m taking you out to eat.” Jimin shrugs. “I’m hungry, and I don’t trust you to stay put. As far as I know, you’ll be rushing into the crowd as soon as I look away.”
Jeongguk won’t. But, then again, that’s an idea Jimin shouldn’t have planted inside Jeongguk’s head in the first place—
“Don’t even think about trying,” Jimin warns. He tightens his grip on Jeongguk’s waist, not too much to actually make it uncomfortable, but just enough to let Jeongguk know that he’s not fooling around.
“Um, but what about the concert? Shouldn’t you stay here and, I don’t know, do your manager stuff or something?” Jeongguk asks, more out of concern for Jimin’s job than anything. He’s pretty sure assisting a fan who almost collapsed in the middle of a guerrilla concert isn’t included in Jimin’s job description, more so feeding him like he’s Jeongguk’s own guardian.
“I’m not the only manager around,” Jimin simply reasons, still with his arm around Jeongguk’s waist. Jimin’s touch is warm, almost burning through the thickness of Jeongguk’s clothes and into his skin, and Jeongguk weirdly finds himself torn between moving even closer to him or pulling away entirely. “I’m sure those guys can survive without me for an hour or two. Now, let’s go.”
“Umm...okay,” Jeongguk mumbles, suddenly losing the ability to come up with a more coherent response.
They somehow end up sitting side by side on the counter table inside a ramyun shop, located just across the street from the venue. The subliminal noises from the guerilla concert still thrum inside Jeongguk’s ears, but they quickly turn into white noise at the back of his mind as soon as the waiter places a bowl of steaming ramyun in front of him. Jeongguk takes a whiff and his mouth immediately waters; the fragrance is so enticing for his empty stomach.
His first mouthful of noodles is a little careless and Jeongguk abruptly winces as it burns his tongue. He’s always been a touch too impatient when it comes to food and, obviously, that part of him hasn’t changed, even in Jimin’s unfamiliar presence. Still, it probably would’ve been great if Jeongguk tried to exercise the virtue of patience even just this once—maybe, then, he wouldn’t have to take a desperate swig from his glass of water like his whole life depended on it and, consequently, look like a fool in front of Jimin.
Jimin just tsks at him, his face a mix of concern and amusement. “Be careful. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon so you don’t need to eat in a hurry.”
Jeongguk nods, partly because he’s not quite sure what to say and partly because he’s still in utter disbelief that this is really happening. That he’s really, very casually, just eating ramyun with his favorite idol group’s manager. Does something like this even happen to normal people? Jeongguk honestly doesn’t think so.
Beside him, Jimin starts digging into his own order, spooning some food into his mouth without a care in the world. Jeongguk knows he should probably do the same, more carefully this time, lest he wants to look weird and unappreciative of Jimin’s company—but now he’s distracted with the way they’re sitting so close together, Jimin’s warmth radiating from where their elbows are touching. With the way Jimin’s small mouth moves as he eats heartily, his round cheeks bunching up with every chew. This close, Jeongguk is, once again, only reminded of the obvious fact that Jimin is really pretty, charming; he looks like he belongs up on stage, performing, more than managing artists behind it.
“You’re staring,” Jimin says matter-of-factly. It snaps Jeongguk out from whatever daze he’s found himself in, and he immediately blushes, embarrassed at being caught shamelessly ogling. “Is there something on my face?”
Any other occasion and Jeongguk would’ve probably blurted out something stupid and cringe-worthy like beauty or whatever shit his mind could come up with. But he figures now is definitely not the time to hit up on someone who’s probably not even into him, even just the slightest bit. So Jeongguk just squares up and says, with his most convincing—or as convincing as it can be, considering there’s an epitome of beauty sitting before him, looking all curious and entertained at the same fucking time—tone, “Not really.”
Jimin hums. And then smiles, like he’s suddenly thought of something really funny. “Is my face more interesting than your ramyun, then?”
There’s a definite yes just dangerously dangling at the tip of his tongue, and Jeongguk takes a precautionary measure by snapping his mouth shut. He ends up responding with a rather hesitant shake of his head this time around.
The smile on Jimin’s face then turns into a full, blown-out grin, and his eyes are scrunching so cutely that Jeongguk just wants to coo at him. “You’re cute.” You’re a lot cuter, Jeongguk’s traitorous mind screams. “Go eat before your noodles get cold and soggy.”
Jeongguk’s pretty sure he’s going to combust right here, right now. He’s going to die from the ridiculous amount of blood leaving his limbs just to pool in his cheeks and then Jimin will be left here, all alone in the small ramyun shop, with Jeongguk’s exsanguinated body and a bowl full of cold and soggy noodles—
Jimin suddenly nudges him on the side, and it’s enough of a reminder for Jeongguk to start tucking into his food, still conscious of Jimin’s sole attention on him.
Not much flirting happens after that—that’s not to say Jeongguk didn’t enjoy himself, though. By the time he’s polished off two more bowls of ramyun, Jeongguk’s already filled to the brim with good food and good conversation, his heart suddenly growing two sizes too big for the confines of his ribcage with how Jimin comfortably opens up to him and laughs at his dumb jokes.
Jeongguk also misses the guerrilla concert entirely and he’s both surprised and confused to find that he doesn't regret it all.
¤
Their next encounter happens under a completely unexpected circumstance.
Jeongguk is hunkering down behind the counter at the modest hardware store he works part time at, thankful that no one has yet to come in all afternoon during his shift. It’s a surprisingly idle day and the free time allows Jeongguk to work on the assignments he needs to submit this week. Honestly, Jeongguk would’ve gotten them finished the other day if he hadn’t been too caught up with editing some of Yoongi’s pictures for his website’s new splash page. It all came out very nicely in the end, however, so Jeongguk couldn’t really complain all that much.
Too preoccupied with his readings, Jeongguk almost jumps out of his seat when someone—a customer—suddenly pings the bell on the counter right above him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you—” the customer apologizes, but abruptly stops when Jeongguk raises his head. “Hey, it’s you!”
Jeongguk’s heart drops when he recognizes the familiar bright smile. “Ah, manager-nim,” he stammers, while his heart does an acrobatic somersault inside his chest out of an unexpected nervousness. He berates himself inwardly and wonders why he can never seem to keep his cool around Jimin.
“Stop with the ‘manager-nim’, that makes it a lot weirder when it’s just the two of us.” Jimin chuckles. “Just hyung is fine, you know.”
Jeongguk flounders internally for a bit; the thought of calling Jimin hyung is enough to turn his cheeks warm and ruddy. “Okay. If you say so, hyung,” Jeongguk mumbles, soft and incredibly shy. Jimin smiles up at him and it immediately sets Jeongguk’s heart off like a flurry of butterflies brandishing their wings in unison.
Jimin starts briefly looking around, then, as though he’s just realizing exactly where he is, and says, “Huh. I don’t think you ever mentioned working in a hardware store, ‘cause..I mean, I definitely would’ve remembered if you did.”
It’s casual statements like these that always manage to render Jeongguk speechless, turning him into a teenage mess, all blushy and tingly, warm feeling in the pit of his belly. Jimin might not realize the implication of what he’d just said but, to Jeongguk, just the thought of Jimin intently listening to him and remembering even the most insignificant details of their conversations is enough to tug at his heartstrings.
“I-I didn’t,” Jeongguk admits as soon as he finally learns how to use his mouth again. It’s not out of shame that he had failed to tell Jimin about his workplace the last time they talked, but more of the assumption that he might not be all that interested with knowing that part of Jeongguk’s life.
Jeongguk supposes he can’t be more wrong, though.
Jimin hums. “Well. Either way, I’m really glad to see you today, Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk definitely feels the same and he’s a little taken aback when he realizes just how true that is.
This isn’t the right time nor place to be focusing on his giddy feelings, however, so Jeongguk forcefully buries them deep, deep down for now and puts on his most professional smile for Jimin. “What brings you here, by the way, hyung?”
At the question, Jimin immediately grimaces, his face crumpling into a mask of frustration. “I need to buy a new door knob.”
Jeongguk hikes a brow in surprise. Well, that’s not exactly what he has in mind. But, then again, Jeongguk realizes he doesn’t know what he’s expecting in the first place, anyway. “Okay. Is it for your room?”
“No,” Jimin says, frowning some more. “It’s for Namjoon.”
Realization quickly dawns in Jeongguk’s face and, just as soon, a laugh comes barreling out of his mouth without his permission. “I see.”
Jimin hums, sympathetic. “I’m not exactly sure what happened but, with Namjoon, I just tend to not ask for any specific details.”
“He isn’t hurt, though, right?”
“He’s fine. No minor injuries or anything, which is kind of a miracle, you know,” Jimin answers, immediately calming the hell out of Jeongguk. He didn’t even realize how worried he was until he’d had Jimin reassure him of Namjoon’s condition.
“That’s good,” Jeongguk says, nodding.
“Yeah. Saves us from going on another trip to the hospital, at least,” Jimin says offhandedly. Jeongguk knows he’s trying his best to be casual about the whole thing, but there’s no denying how obviously disturbed Jimin is at the mere thought of one of the boys getting hurt. “Anyway, I’m not really an expert when it comes to fixing furniture and stuff—that’s more of Yoongi’s lane, really—but I wanted to buy a new door knob now so we could get it done as soon as possible.”
“Okay,” Jeongguk says, already leaving his spot behind the counter to assist Jimin. “Are you looking for the same door knob or maybe something different?”
Jimin suddenly looks so sheepish—he’s so cute, god—that it throws Jeongguk on a fucking loop. “I was hoping you could help me with that, actually. Would it be better to try a new one? Or just stick to the same kind?”
“Um.” Jeongguk inwardly kicks himself for being so coherent. And then kicks himself some more when it takes him too damn long to respond. Jimin probably thinks he’s so stupid and unfit for his job now. “We have an assortment of door handles for you to choose from, hyung. We can go look at them if you want and then you can decide what to buy from there?”
That seems to satisfy Jimin, if the smile lighting up his face is anything to go by. It takes all of Jeongguk not to reach out and pinch his cheek, really. To coo at how unbearably adorable Jimin is being today. Thankfully,Jeongguk isn’t usually one to give in to his desires easily, so he manages to focus most of his energy into leading Jimin into the right aisle where a variety of door handles are located.
Picking a door knob is actually no easy job. There are so many factors to take into consideration and Jeongguk goes through all of them with Jimin patiently. He’s attentive, nodding at certain points and asking a few questions at others, and while Jeongguk’s usual idea of a fun time doesn’t include long, drawn out interactions with customers, he finds himself unexpectedly enjoying every single second with Jimin.
Jimin decides to settle on a new door knob in the end, and Jeongguk rings him up as soon as they reach the counter. He’s handing the plastic bag filled with Jimin’s purchase when Jimin suddenly speaks up, “Thanks for all your help today, Jeongguk. I probably would’ve spent hours stuck in there if it weren’t for you.”
Jeongguk smiles, pleased. Their fingers brush as Jimin takes the bag from him and Jeongguk abruptly feels a zing up his spine from the mere contact. The smile drops from Jeongguk’s face for a second, surprised, until he remembers he’s still standing in front of Jimin. “I-It’s no problem, hyung. I’m glad I could be of service.”
“I mean it, Jeongguk-ah. You really saved my ass today.”
Jeongguk doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that he almost melted on the ground, right then and there, at how easily Jimin had called him with that fond nickname, or that his mind just quickly zeroed in on the word ass that Jeongguk ended up thinking about how Jimin’s actually got a really cute, perky one.
Jeongguk’s brain short-circuits long enough that he almost doesn’t catch Jimin’s question:
“At least let me buy you coffee after your shift’s over?” Jimin asks, his lower lip worried between his teeth. He looks so unsure, yet a little hopeful, shifting his weight from side to side.
“What? No!” Jeongguk exclaims, probably a little too loudly than what he’d originally intended. Jimin’s face instantly falls after that, just as Jeongguk’s heart does when he realizes how he probably just fucked up so bad with that careless response. Frantic to save the situation however he can, Jeongguk backtracks, “I-I mean, you don’t have to, hyung! It’s my job to assist customers, after all, and it already made me happy that I could help you out.”
Jimin purses his lips. “How about you make me happy by getting coffee with me, then?”
That’s certainly not the smoothest line Jeongguk has ever heard and Jimin’s rebuttal doesn’t really make sense in Jeongguk’s head, no matter how many times he turns Jimin’s question this way and that, mince his words one by one. But he's so weak, so goddamn weak. Jeongguk doesn’t know when he’d gotten so shamefully weak for this cute manager.
“If you really don’t want to, it’s f—”
“Okay,” Jeongguk blurts out.
Jimin’s eyes widen in shock and the image is hilarious enough that Jeongguk would’ve snorted in Jimin’s face if he wasn’t burning up from the inside out right at this moment instead. “What?” Jimin asks.
“Let’s have coffee.” Jeongguk shrugs, hoping it’ll come off as cool and nonchalant—not terrified and full of nerves like how he feels. “My shift ends in a little less than an hour, hyung.”
Jimin’s resulting beam is megawatt, and Jeongguk decides that this is the kind of expression he likes to see on Jimin’s face all the time.
“Okay,” Jimin says agreeably. “I’ll wait for you by the coffee shop two blocks down from here, yeah?”
“Okay,” Jeongguk mumbles. His heart’s drumming too insistent in his ears that Jeongguk ends up repeating his response, a bit louder this time, more for his sake than Jimin’s.
As soon as Jimin waves him goodbye and steps out of the hardware store, Jeongguk slumps back on his seat, all his energy suddenly leaving him in one go. He takes a momentary glance at the clock situated by the entryway—forty minutes.
He still has forty minutes to pull himself together, at least (Jeongguk doesn’t really think that’s enough).
The coffee shop is pretty empty when Jeongguk arrives so it doesn’t take him long before he spots Jimin sitting at a table by the corner. His brows are pulled together in concentration as he stares at his phone and he looks so preoccupied that Jeongguk almost feels bad at the thought of disturbing him. Jeongguk resists the urge to stay out of Jimin’s sight for a little while longer, however, knowing that doing so would only end up with him creepily staring at Jimin like a freaking stalker.
“Sorry for making you wait, hyung,” Jeongguk says as soon as he reaches Jimin’s table. He takes the empty seat opposite Jimin’s, feeling nervous and excited at the prospect of spending some more time with him.
Jimin just smiles and dismisses his apology with a wave. “It’s no problem. You’ve been really helpful earlier, and I managed to reply to some emails so it’s not like I wasted my time.”
Jeongguk realizes that, despite his statement, Jimin probably has a lot of work to do. And, yet, there he is, still taking time out of his probably crammed schedule to take Jeongguk out for coffee. Jeongguk doesn’t really understand why someone like Jimin is here, hanging out with a kid, when he can be doing other, more important things instead. He looks away from him, half-confused and half-worried that his insecurities are written all over his face again, displayed for Jimin and for all the world to see.
Jimin, being the intuitive person that he is however, notices the sudden change of mood and asks, “Did I say something wrong?”
“What?” Jeongguk’s head snaps up. He quickly shakes his head. “No, no! I-it’s nothing, hyung.”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “It’s obviously not nothing, though.”
Jeongguk bites his lip in hesitation. He doesn’t really want to unburden his concerns on Jimin, but it’s also not fair that he’s keeping these terrible thoughts to himself when Jimin’s here, resolute in his decision to spend some of his free time with Jeongguk.
“Jeongguk?”
The obvious distress in Jimin’s voice ultimately does it for Jeongguk; the words start tumbling out of his mouth before he can even try and stop them. “I mean...it seems like whenever we meet, you always end up cleaning up my mess, or taking care of me. I know you’re busy, hyung, and—and I guess I just don’t wanna be a nuisance to you…”
“Hey, hey, none of that now,” Jimin interrupts before Jeongguk can even go further with his self-deprecating speech. “You’re anything but a nuisance, okay? Stop thinking like that.”
Jeongguk isn’t all that convinced, not really, but he lets those consoling words wash over him all the same. Lets the soothing tone of Jimin’s voice appease him just for a little while.
“Besides,” Jimin continues, almost mumbling in his shyness. Jeongguk stares at him, waiting in bated breath, completely entranced at the way the light hits Jimin in the all right places, his skin sun-golden and warm. “I enjoy talking to you. A lot, if that’s still not obvious yet. So don’t ever think that you’re bothering me, alright?”
The familiar giddy feeling is back again, roaring and clawing itself out from the deepest confines of his chest. It makes Jeongguk’s fingers curl, makes him warm and stupid with an emotion he can’t quite place yet, and he can’t stop the huge grin from threatening to split his face into two even if he tries.
“Okay.” In a rare moment of bravery, Jeongguk decides to be true to himself, as well. “I like talking to you a lot, too, hyung.”
It’s a small step, but he’s getting there.
¤
Hanging out every chance they get turns out to be a thing now, and Jeongguk’s not quite sure what to think of it.
It doesn’t happen all the time, of course—Bangtan is at the peak of their popularity and, with it comes along a ton of invitations for radio shows and interviews and shoots for magazines. Not to mention their already packed schedule for music show tapings and concerts, both in and out of Korea. As their manager, Jimin is expected to be there right by their side during every single thing, making sure the boys get to places on time, getting them fed and the occasional hour of sleep, even keeping them in contact with their family members.
Jeongguk’s always known how busy Jimin can be—he is the manager of the hottest idol group today, after all—but he can’t deny the fact that he really misses being in Jimin’s company.
Which is why when Jimin suddenly called him up one night, asking if he had time to meet up, Jeongguk didn’t even think twice despite how late it already was. Apparently, Bangtan had just returned to Korea after holding a two-day concert in Japan and Jimin decided to contact him as soon as the members were safely chauffeured to their dorm.
It made Jeongguk feel a little special, if he’s to be honest with himself. But he’d rather not drive himself up the fucking wall thinking about what all of this meant to Jimin, so Jeongguk just shoved those feelings away instead, locked them again in the farthest corner of his mind like usual.
“...so what do you think?”
Jeongguk blinks at the sudden question, his brain just whirring back to the present. It’s nearing midnight and they’re still in Jimin’s car, parked just a block away from Jeongguk’s dorm. Jimin had picked him up earlier, with every bit of intention to catch up just like old friends do on a lazy Friday night. Never mind the fact that it’s already ass o’clock in the evening, and it’s the middle of a grueling school week—Jeongguk’s not really about to pass up the opportunity to hang out with Jimin tonight, not if he can help it.
Jimin continues to stare at him from the driver’s seat. Jeongguk supposes this is the point where he should open his mouth and give an answer, not just blankly stare at Jimin back like he doesn't have a goddamn clue on what’s happening.
(Jeongguk actually doesn’t. He’s no genius, but Jeongguk’s ninety-five percent sure he’s just missed a good chunk of their conversation at this point.)
“About what?” Jeongguk dumbly asks.
Jimin huffs, all fond exasperation and disbelief. “Were you even listening to me, Jeonggukie?”
Jeongguk tries not to flush at the nickname. Somehow, in the course of their peculiar friendship, Jeongguk-ah had turned into an even warmer Jeonggukie, almost as if they’ve been friends for far longer than either of them could remember. Jeongguk can’t quite recall when and how that happened; just that it did, so naturally and effortlessly, that Jeongguk couldn’t help but sometimes wonder if everything was meant to be like this for them right from the very start.
“Yes, I was!” Jeongguk insists. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s not exactly a lie, either—Jeongguk had really been listening to Jimin’s babbling, until his thoughts grew too loud and demanding for Jeongguk to ignore. “I just...I didn’t quite catch the last thing you said. I’m sorry?”
“Obviously. You were zoning out on me you again, you brat,” Jimin says, without any real heat behind his words. “I was asking if you still know a place where we could eat.”
Oh, yeah. They were trying to decide where they could possibly head to at this time of the night because Jimin clearly didn’t plan things this far ahead. Honestly, Jeongguk would’ve been annoyed if he wasn’t so goddamn thrilled to see Jimin again.
“Because, well, my place is nearby…”
Jeongguk raises his eyebrows in surprise. Did Jimin just—
“I mean,” Jimin quickly adds, blushing, “It’s late, and I’m not sure if there’s still an open place around here, and I think I have enough food at home for the two of us at least so—” Jimin flails around as he fires his rapid explanation, before he finally notices the dumbfounded look in Jeongguk’s face.
“I ramble too much, don’t I?” Jimin eventually sighs in defeat.
For the first time since they started to meet frequently, Jeongguk realizes that Jimin is, perhaps, just a regular guy. The thought is incredibly comforting, like a cup of hot chocolate in mid-winter night. Jimin still looks troubled by his earlier statement, and Jeongguk finds his annoyance endearing.
“I don’t mind coming over, hyung.” Jeongguk smiles, and waits for Jimin’s reaction.
“Oh.” Jimin blushes and looks away. “You don’t, huh? Um. Yeah. I mean—that’s good.”
Jeongguk laughs so hard he almost falls back, clutching at his stomach. Jimin ends up glaring at him, affronted at being the subject of Jeongguk’s amusement, but even that can’t stop Jeongguk from expressing his satisfaction.
Damn. It feels really good to finally have the upperhand this time.
¤
At this point, Jeongguk thinks he should already be immune to the excited chatters and high-pitched giggles surrounding a Bangtan fansigning event but, surprisingly, he still isn’t.
A particularly loud commotion catches Jeongguk’s attention and he quickly snaps his eyes towards the direction of the stage, almost expecting to see a fan collapsing into a heap in front of one of the members or something equally as serious.
What meets his gaze, however, is the sight of a girl playing a random game of arm wrestle with Taehyung. By the sound of her ear-piercing cheer, Jeongguk can only assume that she’s winning, not by a whole lot of course because, while Taehyung hates the thought of losing, he’s also soft and weak-kneed for his fans, and the girl in front of him is certainly one.
Jeongguk can’t help but smile when Taehyung eventually admits defeat and the girl’s cries of happiness exponentially grow in volume. It’s pretty typical fanservice, sure, but fans—including Jeongguk—fall for it all the same.
The queue suddenly jostles forward, snatching his wayward attention again. Jeongguk realizes he’s still a little further along in the line so he just resumes his earlier activity while waiting for his turn. With his album tucked under his armpit, Jeongguk holds the camera to his face again and points it at Jimin’s direction, a burst of continuous shutter sounds echoing in his ears as he snaps shot after shot after shot.
They’re all simple and candid, taken with a clueless Jimin on stage as he does his job like always, but Jeongguk can’t help admiring them all the same.
As though sensing someone’s attention on him, Jimin glances in his direction just as Jeongguk’s preparing to take a few more pictures of him again. Jimin raises an eyebrow, and then pouts as soon as he figures out what Jeongguk’s doing.
Jeongguk just smirks, unmindful of the consequences he’ll most likely deal with later, and presses the shutter button once, twice, three more times—over and over until Jeongguk’s pretty sure he’s already exhausted more than half of his memory card with Jimin’s photos alone.
At this point, Jeongguk might as well be mistaken as a budding Jimin fansite master with how often he has his camera focused on Jimin.
Jeongguk keeps catching Jimin’s gaze as the line moves, and it takes everything in him not to smile dopily at Jimin every single time. It’s something of a feat to accomplish, though, because Jimin looks at him like no one else is in the room other than Jeongguk. Grins at him like Jimin holds their very own secret in the pull of his lips.
It’s at that precise moment that Namjoon actually notices Jeongguk, his lips already twitched into a ridiculously wide smile, and says, with a pensive look on his face, “You look a lot happier today.”
Jeongguk quirks his mouth skeptically, his album already halfway through the table for Namjoon to sign. “I do?”
Namjoon hums. He uncaps his marker and begins writing down on his own page. “I don’t know, just seems that way.” He looks up at Jeongguk then, a suggestive smile already fixed in place. Jeongguk gets distracted by the dimple digging deep into his cheek that he almost doesn’t hear Namjoon’s question. “So, are you?”
The question resonates in his ear, and Jeongguk ends up dwelling on it far too much even despite himself. Does he really seem happier lately? Is it written so obviously on Jeongguk’s face that someone who doesn’t even see him as often can quickly point it out?
Almost as if on their own accord, Jeongguk’s eyes suddenly flit over to Jimin, slowly taking in the purse of his lips and the cute size of his fingers as he tries to pry a huge Luigi stuffed toy from Seokjin. There’s definitely no reason for Jeongguk to be so engrossed by the scene before him, not when this happens all the damn time. Literally, all of Bangtan’s managers have taken a fan’s gift away from a certain member at one point or another.
Still, Jeongguk finds that he can’t look away.
Out of the blue, Namjoon’s soft laughter reaches his ears, and it’s only then that Jeongguk remembers where he is. Namjoon must have witnessed firsthand just how shamelessly he’d stared at their manager, and the thought alone is enough to send Jeongguk reeling. He dips his head in mortification, cheeks blooming into pink tints.
“Um. I guess,” Jeongguk shyly mumbles, as if speaking out loud can suddenly render everything just that much truer than it already is.
Namjoon’s dimple deepens at his confession, if that’s even possible. “I can tell,” Namjoon admits. He finishes his signature with a flourish, then, making a little cute noise of satisfaction as soon as he’s done. “It’s a nice thing that you are, though. For whatever reason.”
Jeongguk takes his album back unthinkingly, a huge part of his mind still fixated on Namjoon’s words. He doesn’t really know what to think. While a part of Jeongguk is pleased to hear Namjoon so supportive of his happiness, there’s also a bigger, more significant part of Jeongguk that’s absolutely terrified of the possibility that Namjoon actually knows what he’s saying. And, if he really does, then what are the chances that the other members do, too?
The reason for his newfound happiness is just standing right there, looking all adorable yet professional at the same time. Jeongguk knows for a fact that Jimin loves his job. Knows just how much he actually enjoys being with the members of Bangtan on the daily. And Jeongguk would rather stay away, if needed, than do anything to compromise that.
Jeongguk's body is moving on autopilot, but his thoughts are in turmoil. He scoots from one member to the other with practiced ease, a smile on his lips and a word of gratitude on the tip of his tongue, just like always. Before Jeongguk knows it, he’s already settling in front of Yoongi, the last member for today.
Yoongi’s unusually quiet as he flips from Taehyung’s page in the booklet to his own page, scribbling on a big ‘TO’ at the top left corner before he finally peeks up at Jeongguk.
“Jeongguk-ah,” he drawls, “Am I not your favorite anymore?”
The weird question, blurted literally out of nowhere, has Jeongguk abruptly choking out a, “What? Of course you still are, hyung!”
Yoongi only squints at him, suspicious, like Jeongguk’s telling the biggest, most obvious lie in the world. He feels a little miffed, offended that Yoongi would even question Jeongguk’s adoration for him, and Jeongguk spends all the time he has with Yoongi trying to convince him that he is, indeed, still Jeongguk’s favorite.
Jimin, however, is being incredibly unhelpful in the background, with the way he’s just letting Yoongi shoot down every single one of Jeongguk’s attempts at winning him over, snickering every now and then like being a spectator to Jeongguk’s embarrassment amuses him to the core.
(Maybe it does. If Jeongguk wasn’t very much taken with Jimin, he’d probably have glared at their manager for being such a huge ass.)
It takes a little more coaxing—and a hell lot of aegyo on Jeongguk’s part, unfortunately—before Yoongi finally relents and lets him get off the stage.
“Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi calls, and Jeongguk turns around, confused. Yoongi doesn’t say anything, only vaguely jerks his chin towards the album in Jeongguk’s hands. Before he can even ask what Yoongi’s trying to say, a staff member is already by his side, impatiently motioning for him to move along.
Jeongguk doesn’t really know what to expect.
When he flips through the pages of his booklet, however, what Jeongguk sees there, scribbled so carefully on Yoongi’s page, makes him smile:
You two are so obvious. I’m happy for you.
¤
daegu babe (♡˙︶˙♡) @sweglikesuga
im seeing so many pictures of min manager on my tline!! bLESS WHOEVER YOU AREhoseok's mixtape @jnope
how is jimin oppa not an idol yet (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻rapmobster is my religion @vocalmonster
did anybody else notice how @/MinMonarch's been taking pics of jimin oppa too lately? or is that just me???golden hyung @ayycaptain
@vocalmonster been wondering the same thing tbh! what if it's just a coincidence tho? like maybe manager-nim just happened to be there when @/MinMonarch was taking pics of the boys o:cypher ☆ @squareupbts
i dont think so @ayycaptain @vocalmonster? happened way too often to be considered as a ~coincidence~rapmobster is my religion @vocalmonster
@squareupbts @ayycaptain well either way, im excited to see if we're gonna get a new min manager fansite soon! ^ω^
Jeongguk tries his hardest to keep a straight face, but it’s turning out to be a pretty unthinkable task with every tweet he continues to see on his timeline.
He’s not exactly a stranger to this—in his time as a Suga fansite master, from Bangtan’s debut until now, Jeongguk had seen people cry and squeal over his pictures most of the time. He’d had fans all over the world thank him for sharing his shots online, for making Yoongi look as ethereal and soft in his photos as he was in real life. And Jeongguk had always been grateful for all the love he’d received then.
This feels so much like that and, yet, entirely different at the same time, too. Jeongguk loves taking pictures of Jimin. Loves it even more when someone else shares the same appreciation for him because Jimin—in Jeongguk’s opinion, although he may be a little biased—deserves the world and more.
“What are you looking at?” Jimin suddenly asks. He’s settled at the other end of the couch, their legs tangled together comfortably in the middle. When Jeongguk doesn’t answer, still opting to keep his mouth shut because never in a million years would Jeongguk openly admit to Jimin that he’s taken a liking to capturing him in his photos lately, Jimin starts to get up, curious. Jeongguk immediately stiffens in his seat. Oh, shit. “Let me see—”
In a snap, Jeongguk holds his phone against his chest, making it practically impossible for Jimin to even take a peep. He knows he looks suspicious as hell but Jeongguk absolutely can’t let Jimin see what he’s doing, no matter how much Jeongguk likes him. (And that’s saying something because he likes Jimin very, very much, okay.)
Jimin’s eyes then turn into slits, and Jeongguk gets a nagging feeling that he won't like whatever's going to slip out of Jimin’s mouth. “Are you watching porn or something?”
Jeongguk sputters, his face immediately flushing into a bright shade of red. “Of course not, hyung!”
Jimin cackles but still doesn’t back down in his attempt to find out what has Jeongguk all happy and smiling on his phone. He lunges for Jeongguk again, determined to pluck the little gadget off his hands, only to be met by thin air as Jeongguk hastily gets up from the couch.
“Yah! Jeon Jeongguk!”
Jeongguk laughs and quickly closes his Twitter application. It’s definitely the worst reaction he can give to an angry Jimin, but Jeongguk’s never really learned how to take him seriously when Jimin looks even more adorable than terrifying, his lips jutted out in a childish pout and his eyes narrowed in accusation.
Without any clear plans in mind, Jeongguk takes off into the direction of the kitchen, Jimin already hot on his heels. It won’t take too long before Jimin eventually catches him, considering how tiny the apartment is just like its owner, but Jeongguk thinks he doesn’t really mind.
Jeongguk has all the time in the world to tell Jimin about it, anyway.
(Or, well, Jeongguk supposes Jimin can just find it out for himself when his own fansite’s already up and running.)