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A young man wearing a baggy janitor uniform hummed tunelessly as he pushed a cart stocked-full of cleaning supplies towards the back area. The freshly mopped marble floors made his heavy rubber-soled boots squeak with every step, a stark contrast to the otherwise quiet main hall.
The man grunted slightly as he pushed against the door marked “Employees Only” with his cart, entering the long hallway, empty, save for himself. The only sound to keep him company was the constant buzzing caused by the harsh fluorescent lights, which he tuned out as he pulled out a mental map of the building. He needed to get to the 5th floor and if he remembered correctly, there should be a set of elevators in one of the rooms he was headed towards.
He resumed his humming as he directed his cart through the set of double acting doors. As he passed through, the man made a move to fix his hat, using the motion to pull it even lower on his head as he left the empty hallway behind him.
He did a quick once-over of the area, taking note of all the exits and surveillance cameras.
He couldn’t help but snort.
A cursory glance at his surrounding was more than enough to give him all the information he needed about the level of security in the building; more than half of the surveillance cameras he spotted were just for show, probably installed to deter petty thefts. The handful that were in working condition were so outdated, it would be quite the technological miracle if he came out as anything more than a mass of indiscernible grey.
There was also a camera fixed right above the door he had just come out of, having caught the blinking red light with the corner of his eye when he walked in. It was most likely put there to catch the faces of the people coming into the building. After all, it would be much harder to commit a crime once you’ve already left the premise.
His quick once-over helped him locate the three pneumatic tubes located near the elevators. A brief search of his pockets produced the thin roll of wires he’d grabbed from the supply room earlier, which he proceeded to wrap around one of the plastic pneumatic tubes. In two quick motions, it was sawed open and the sound of air being vacuumed away filled the room.
The man dug around his cart until he found a cylindrical canister, carefully hidden in the pile of cleaning supplies. He took one last glance at the name written on the paper rolled inside—Lee Jaehoon—before tugging the sawed tube open with one hand and slipping the canister in with the other. He fixed the tube back into place and watched as the parcel travelled towards the upper levels.
As he waited for the elevator, he dug around his cart again to pull out a leather briefcase. Soon after, the doors opened with a quiet ding. He entered, abandoning the cart behind.
He waited for the doors to close after pressing the button to the 5th floor before unzipping the front of his cleaning costume, revealing the full business suit underneath. He made sure to stand in the surveillance camera’s blind spot in case his face got caught.
The man undressed quickly, kicking the costume to one corner. A few extra seconds were all he needed to smooth out the creases from his suit and use the reflective panels to straighten his tie. He ran his hand through his hair once, twice, before he was satisfied with his appearance.
The elevator doors opened to the main floor of the bank. As far as banks went, this one wasn’t half bad. It was located in one of those historical buildings covered in marble, with a few stained-glass windows here and there. Terrible ventilation, and you never could quite get rid of the distinctive smell of time, but it was beautiful, nonetheless.
He stepped out of the elevator, heeled shoes clicking against the marble floor. He took a moment to get immersed in the environment before checking his watch.
7:50AM
Great, he was early. He made his way to the young woman seated behind the desk clearly labelled “Im Minsung — Receptionist”.
“Hello, I’m Jaehoon. Lee Jaehoon,” he flashed a confident smile that took an uncertain edge as she fixed him with an increasingly blank stare. “Umm, today’s my first day?”
“We’re not expecting any new hires today,” the receptionist answered politely, the tiny crease between her brow betraying her suspicion.
Suspicion.
That’s no good, he thought.
“Actually it’s an internship? And I spoke to Naerin. From HR?” He looked at her for support and continued when he found none. “She said my welcome package would be waiting for me and that all I needed to do was to give my name to the front desk.”
She stared at him. He stared back, making sure to keep his expression open.
“Nobody told me any of this,” she finally let out.
Now she was uncertain. He could work with that.
Jaehoon shrugged with a helpless smile.
“Wait here,” she decided after some consideration. She walked to the back, towards a row of pneumatic tubes. She unlocked one of them and pulled out a canister, the name “Lee Jaehoon” typed out neatly on the envelope inside.
Walking back, she glanced up from the envelope to flash him a welcoming smile. “Well, seems like it’s time I had a talk with HR about communication,” she smiled at him, attitude doing a complete 180. “Your welcome package is indeed right here Mr. Lee,” she said as she handed it to him.
“Please, call me Jaehoon,” he insisted sweetly, taking the envelope and going through the papers inside. He pulled out his employee ID, smiling as he showed it to her.
“Looks like me.”
She rolled her eyes, but they held a lot more warmth than they did just a minute ago.
“This way please,” the receptionist said as she led the way to a set of glass doors with a card reader next to it. He placed his card next to it. The flashing light turned red. He flipped the card around, trying once again. The machine beeped, light turning red once again. He looked at her.
“Am I fired already?” he asked with a sheepish smile, the slight redness dusting his cheeks betraying how flustered he actually felt.
She laughed.
“First day glitches, it happens to the best of us,” she said with an understanding nod. She reached for her own card, clipped to her vest pocket, and unlocked the door for him.
She clipped the card back to her vest.
“Here you go.”
Jaehoon thanked her, but something on her shoulder seemed to have caught his eye because he was suddenly right there, hand going up to brush off some speck of dust or pick a piece of lint away. She stumbled back once her brain processed what he was doing, flustered by the unexpected proximity.
“Sorry, you had a little something there. It’s gone now,” he explained quickly.
“Oh, that’s very nice of you,” she thanked, too flustered to look at him properly. She reached around him to push the door open, gesturing for him to go inside, “Well, it was nice meeting you Jaehoon, I hope you enjoy your time here. Let me know if you need anything or if you have any questions about the layout, I’d be more than happy to help.”
He shot her a smile that made his eyes disappear as he passed through the door, left hand slipping the card key he’d unclipped from her vest into his own pocket, movement gone unnoticed.
“So far so good,” he winked, going in. As the door locked behind him, he took a deep breath. He started walking towards the back.
“Hey!”
Of course, someone would choose that moment to stop him. He swore his heart stopped beating.
Jaehoon stopped, turning around slowly. Two men, dressed in sharp business suits and each carrying a briefcase, were looking at him. One of them pointed at something on the floor.
“You dropped something.” Oh.
His pass.
He walked back and bent down to pick it up, not missing the appreciative look one of them gave his backside. He rolled his eyes and almost snorted, but he made sure to school his features into something a little awkward, a little embarrassed as he got back up.
“Sorry about that, first day nerves,” he laughed as he ran his hand through his hair. He extended his hand. “Lee Jaehoon, intern.”
“No worries,” the other man said with a friendly smile as he shook his hand. “Yoon Dal.”
“Kim Bomseok. Where are you headed?” the man who’d been checking him out asked.
“Oh, I was thinking about doing a coffee run after I find my way around here first,” he answered smoothly. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to get coffee for everybody y’know? Since it’s my first day and all.” He shifted his weight.
“Actually, is there anything in particular you would like me to bring back for you?“ he asked the two of them, although his eyes lingered a bit longer on the man who’d been eyeing him a bit earlier—Bomseok.
While Bomseok’s companion respectfully declined, Bomseok certainly wasted no time with the invitation.
“Hmm, that would be nice, I’ll let you decide. Maybe something as sweet as you?” He winked. Jaehoon’s flustered expression seemed to please him immensely. He opened his mouth to say something else but was stopped by his friend elbowing his side.
“We should let the boy go, or he might get yelled at for being late,” he said lowly, giving his friend a hard stare. Bomseok huffed. Yoon Dal turned back to Jaehoon. “Were you looking for a place in particular? We could show you the way.”
“Oh no, I can’t bother the two of you any further,” Jaehoon interjected before Bomseok could insist on showing him around. “I was just going to walk around to familiarize myself with the layout. I’ve held you back long enough as it is. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to than showing the intern around.”
Yoon Dal nodded. “Okay, well if you need anything, our stations are over there. Don’t hesitate to stop by if you have any questions.”
“I won’t! I’ll stop by later with the coffees!” Jaehoon promised with a sunny smile.
As Yoon Dal and Bomseok walked away, Bomseok couldn’t help but sigh dreamily. Yoon Dal glared at him.
“One of these days, someone will end up reporting you to HR if you don’t stop ogling every new intern coming in,” he warned.
“Okay, but did you see that ass? Holy shit,” Bomseok sighed again.
Yoon Dal was disgusted. “The boy barely looks legal, and he probably isn’t if he’s an intern. Forget filing a report, you’ll end up charged with sexual harassment of a minor.”
Bomseok just shrugged, unbothered. That’s right, he’ll just invite Jaehoon out for drinks tonight. That should do the trick.
Once Jaehoon was sure they were out of earshot, he exhaled.
Thank god for Yoon Dal. He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if he was left alone with Bomseok. It was always easier to play along when dealing with guys like him, but it didn’t mean he always enjoyed it.
Especially since he could feel the shivers of disgust crawling up his spine at every lingering stare. But now that the two were gone, he could finally concentrate on completing his assignment.
As he made his way farther in, Jaehoon’s flustered demeanour disappeared. His back straightened, losing all shyness, and his lines hardened, giving him a more severe look.
He walked with purpose, passing by employees rushing from one place to another. Some carried stacks of papers while others talked urgently to their phones as they jotted things down into a notepad. He acted like he belonged, nodding and waving at a few workers who’d caught his eye before reaching another set of doors.
Jaehoon reached into his pocket, pulling out the magnetic card he’d lifted from Minsung earlier, and tapped it against the small black box. The light turned green, followed by a beep, and he was let in without fuss.
He passed through a few more sets of doors the same way. The crowd thinned as he got closer to the vaults, until there was no one else but him.
He almost snorted. How arrogant could a bank be that they didn’t even have minimum security patrolling the area near the vaults. It was almost as if they were begging for something to happen.
Finally, he walked through a door leading to the corridor that would bring him straight to the vaults.
This time, he did snort.
“Vault” was too generous a term to describe the room sectioned off with mere metal bars, the contents of the room laid out for all who got that far to see. If people knew how easy it was to gain access to the vaults, he suspected the bank would have been out of business long ago.
A part of him hoped this last door would be the one where he loses access because it couldn’t be that easy, could it? His hope in the bank’s overall security was shattered when the sound of a lock unlatching filled the empty corridor.
Well, he wasn’t about to complain when the lack of security made his job so much easier.
Jaehoon placed his empty briefcase onto the table located in the middle of the room, unlatching it in the process.
He considered the rows of neatly stacked hundred dollar bills, grabbing one stack and flicking it open. There, in the center, was a hollowed out area. Inside was a packet of red dye with a small chip attached to it.
Jaehoon knew that if he were to walk out of this room with this in his briefcase, the radio transmitter located by the entrance would trigger a signal in the chip, causing the dye pack to explode within a few seconds. The entire content of his briefcase would be rendered completely useless.
While it may have been a handy little technology, these dye packs were far too easy to spot. It did make filling up his briefcase much easier.
Soon, he was carrying a fully loaded briefcase out of the room and through the same set of doors he’d walked through earlier. Not one person spared him a second glance.
As he reached the receptionist area, he noted that Minsung was busy with a call, so she didn’t notice him slipping by. Things were going smoothly for once as the set of elevator doors came into his line of sight.
He breathed a sigh of relief. It was almost over.
He pressed the button, shifting his weight from left to right, impatient for the elevator to arrive and for this to be over.
After what felt like an eternity, the doors opened with a quiet ding. Just as Jaehoon was about to get in, he was stopped by someone grabbing his wrist. He turned around and—
Fuck.
Bomseok.
“Are you free tonight?”
Jaehoon glanced at the elevator doors before turning back.
“Umm...” he started, uncertain with how he should deal with this situation.
Bomseok was not deterred.
“If you’re free tonight, there’s this club near my house I’ve been dying to go to. We could go together?” The way he said it made it sound like he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
Jaehoon tried to keep the smile plastered on his face as he shook his hand free from Bomseok’s grip. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to the main floor but before the door could close, Bomseok’s arm shot forward to stop it.
“I’m not letting you go till I get an answer. I know you’re interested.”
He was so persistent. Jaehoon began to wonder if playing along had really been the best idea.
“I’ll let you know my answer after I grab those coffees and have had some time to think about it, okay?” Jaehoon finally answered and Bomseok looked like he was ready to say more.
Drastic times called for drastic measures. Before he could utter another word, Jaehoon placed his finger on Bomseok’s lips. The arm that had been blocking the elevator doors dropped as Bomseok stared, wide-eyed.
“I’ll make sure to grab you something extra sweet from the coffee shop,” Jaehoon promised, finger already pressing the button. The last thing Bomseok saw was Jaehoon biting his lower lip as he avoided his gaze before the doors closed between them.
When the doors finally closed, Jaehoon let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It wasn’t his first time flirting his way out of something but it had definitely been a while since someone made him feel that violated. It made his skin crawl. He wiped his finger against his slacks.
He used the remaining time it took for the elevator to get to the main floor to regain some semblance of calm. By the time the doors opened, he was mostly back to himself.
There, just a few meters away in front of him, was the main entrance.
Freedom. He could almost taste it.
As soon as he walked out of the building, he took a deep, fortifying breath. A moment was all he needed to take in the bustling city streets before going down the stairs leading straight to the main street.
As he rounded a corner, he past by two men who appeared to be deep in conversation, both leaning against a sleek black car with tinted window.
“Hey, Jimin,” one of the men called as he walked past.
Jaehoon paused mid-step, standing still in the middle of the busy sidewalk as people walked around him. He had half a mind to just ignore the call and keep walking.
“I hope you’re not planning on walking with that.”
At that, Jimin turned around, smiling politely at the two men he’d been hoping to sneak past undetected.
“Well, it’s not a crime to think about it, is it?” he shot back cheekily.
The man who’d called out to him, clearly the one in charge, rolled his eyes but it was softened by the fondness of his smile. He shook his head, amused, before gesturing his companion to the briefcase Jimin was still holding.
Jimin obediently handed the case over, watching without a word as it was plopped onto the hood of the car.
The man’s companion unlatched the clips, whistling at the neatly arranged stacks of hundred-dollar bills. “Looks like it’s all here,” he looked at them, waiting for some kind of instruction.
After a brief moment of awkward silence during which the man was busy studying Jimin’s face as Jimin did his best to not squirm under his gaze, he nodded. That seemed to be the cue his companion had been waiting for because no sooner he was clipping every latch back into place and walking away to deposit the briefcase into the car’s trunk.
Meanwhile, the man was still leaned against the car, all long limbs and relaxed posture, save for the piercing gaze that never left Jimin.
“You know, one of these days,” Jimin cleared his throat, trying to dispel the awkward atmosphere surrounding the two of them, “people are going to mistake you for some kind of criminal overlord, right? Especially with you treating Hoseok like that,” Jimin said, throwing a glance at the man busy loading the trunk. He turned back when he heard a snort.
“Yes well, you also never cease to amaze me with the ease with which you can con your way into and out of any situation.”
“It’s not my fault I look small enough to pass as an intern,” Jimin blinked cutely with a pout.
“You don’t just look small, you are small. Aren’t you, Mr. Lee Jaehoon?” the name was purposefully drawn out, with just a hint of teasing.
A pause.
“Ahhh... I was never exactly fond of that alias. Can’t say I’m sad to see it go,” Jimin replied without missing a beat, face carefully blank.
“Mhmm, I’m sure that really put a dent in your collection of aliases,” the man shot right back. “I wonder how many you have left. Ten? Twenty?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jimin deadpanned. “This doesn’t have anything to do with ruining one of my carefully crafted aliases, but… mark my words; I will find retribution in some way or form, just you wait, Kim Namjoon. ”
The man—Namjoon—rolled his eyes again. Jimin always did have a flair for theatrics.
Clearly done with this conversation, Jimin was about to make his way to the car when he was stopped by Namjoon calling his name.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Namjoon asked, waving a thick bracelet-shaped device in his hand.
“Of course. How could I have forgotten about the most important small print of this arrangement,” Jimin rolled his eyes but didn’t move.
Namjoon waited, eyebrow raised.
Jimin stared right back, his own eyebrow raising.
Jimin broke away from the stare-off first to deliberately glance at the ground in front of him. His eyes went back to Namjoon. Namjoon frowned, confused.
Jimin rolled his eyes, nodding at his feet. When Namjoon finally understood what he meant, he couldn’t help but stare at him, expression incredulous. Jimin just shrugged, arms crossing in front of his chest.
He walked back towards the car before settling comfortably against the hood. Namjoon could see him inspecting his nails from where he stood, and he watched as Jimin blew some invisible dust off of them, sighing exaggeratedly.
Namjoon knew a losing battle when he saw one and with a quick prayer to the skies, he walked around the car to stand in front of Jimin.
He’d only meant to tease Jimin by forcing him to look into his eyes first, which would require him to tilt his head back quite a bit considering the height difference and the lack of space between the two of them. What he didn’t expect was the way Jimin’s eyes glinted when they locked with his own; there was something in those eyes that drew Namjoon in and made him unable to pull away.
He was broken out of his trance by the pointed cough coming from somewhere in front of him. He looked up to see Hoseok watching them from the other side of the car, amused.
Namjoon decided to ignore the smirk on his friend’s face for now. He coughed awkwardly, going on one knee to secure the tracker to Jimin’s ankle. He was ready to get this over with.
He jumped slightly when he felt someone blowing against his ear.
He glanced up just in time to see Jimin laugh at his expression, which earned him a pinch to the thighs for his efforts. That somehow only made Jimin laugh harder.
Damn flexibility and his ability to fold in half without having to bend his knees.
Damn dancer thighs which made pinching them almost impossible.
After Jimin calmed down from his laughing fit, they stood in companionable silence as Namjoon tried to figure out how the clasp on the anklet worked.
“You’re lucky the stupid anklet doesn’t ruin my style or I’d be a lot less cooperative right now,” Jimin muttered lowly. In all honesty, Jimin could’ve put it on in half the time but there was just something about seeing Namjoon kneeling in front of him that made him feel a certain kind of way.
He didn’t want to think too hard about the implications—but that didn’t mean he was above having some harmless fun in the meanwhile.
“Yeah right, as if you could do anything more than kick my shin with that height of yours,” Namjoon replied without missing a beat. He looked up when he didn’t hear any follow-ups.
It was his turn to laugh at Jimin’s affronted expression.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Jimin pouted, “or I’d do a lot worse than kicking you in the shins, trust me.”
“Nah, if anyone’s the cute one, it’s you,” Namjoon said absentmindedly, fingers struggling with the clasp. Ah-ha! That did the trick. He looked up, victorious, to see Jimin staring at him weirdly. It was only then that the implications of what he’d just said sunk in.
He could feel the heat creeping up his neck as Jimin just… kept staring. Just as Jimin was about to open his mouth to say something, Namjoon cut him off by standing, unwilling to hear the teasing remarks from the younger man. He missed the flash of emotion crossing Jimin’s features.
“Okay, let’s get going.”
“Why such a hurry?” Jimin asked after a beat of silence during which he pushed his body away from the car. Namjoon breathed out a quiet sigh of relief at the question. This, he could answer easily enough.
“There’s a meeting going on at the office later today. A debrief of your little exercise, if we could put it that way,” Namjoon explained. “You’ll have to share everything you did, let them know what the weak points are and—” Namjoon paused to turn towards Jimin, who blinked at him innocently. “And don’t you dare try omitting anything, you hear?”
“You hear?” he repeated when, instead of replying, Jimin just looked at him with an expression that screamed “who? Me?”. Namjoon fixed Jimin with an increasingly hard stare as he remained silent.
Eventually, Jimin gave up, huffing out an agreement. He muttered a quiet “no fun” under his breath as he turned back towards the car. He was just about to open the door when Namjoon beat him to it.
“What a gentleman,” Jimin said flatly. Namjoon rolled his eyes. He gestured for Jimin to hurry up, slamming the door close behind him as soon as he got in.
Jimin watched as Namjoon got into the driver’s seat. Catching his stare through the rear view mirror, Namjoon gave him a playful wink, laughing when Jimin let out a snort and stuck his tongue out childishly.
If anything, Jimin hoped the meeting wouldn’t be as eventful as his morning had been.
God knows he deserves a break.
Apparently God was deaf because there he was, lecturing about half a dozen of overdressed bankers on their severely lacking security systems.
“—the codes need to be changed daily, not weekly. Your ink bags are far too easy to spot and it’s time to catch up to the rest of the world, your surveillance cameras are older than my grandma,” Jimin finished with a smile that did nothing to soften his words. Nonetheless, it was completely out-of-place given the bombshell he’d just dropped on them.
There were a few seconds of deafening silence before all hell broke loose. Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose, not sure if he should laugh or berate Jimin for his words. Hoseok, on the other hand, clearly didn’t have any qualms about showing how he felt about the situation, if his loud guffaw was anything to go by. Namjoon’s glare quieted him down, but he could still see the mirth dancing in his friend’s eyes.
The chaos was broken when Jimin snapped his finger, eyes widening as if he’d just remembered something important. The room quieted down.
Namjoon closed his eyes, already knowing nothing good could come out of Jimin when he was feeling playful, and playful was definitely what he was feeling right now. That was one smile Namjoon was very familiar with.
“I almost forgot; you should have all your employees wear their access cards around their necks.” Jimin tsked. “Clipping them to their vest makes it far to easy to lift. And speaking about access cards, every employee should have varying levels of clearance, all depending on their position. I mean, does it make sense for a receptionist to have access to the vaults? What would she even do in there? Does it make sense?” he asked as he turned towards Hoseok, who quickly shook his head under Jimin’s insistent look.
“See, even he thinks that it doesn’t make any sense.”
Namjoon tried to cover his snort with a cough, but he knew it didn’t fool anyone.
One of the bankers looked like he was ready to say something and Jimin, who was not in the mood to listen to whatever long-winded complaint awaiting him, cut him off before he could utter a single word.
“It certainly made my job of robbing your bank a lot easier,” he sent the man a sunny smile. The man closed his mouth, disgruntled.
Namjoon thought it was about time for him to step in.
“Thank you Jimin, for the positively enlightening feedback.” He could almost see Jimin rolling his eyes, which made his smile widened imperceptibly. “Well, gentlemen. I’m sure this has been a most informative session,” he smiled. He could feel Jimin bristling by his side when he got a few scoffs in return, so he grabbed his wrist in warning. When Jimin looked at him, he shook his head.
Don’t.“Some of your employees have come to us for assistance,” he continued, ignoring the rude behaviour. “Many have expressed their concerns towards the lack of proper security. I hope this little demonstration has managed to convince you that your employees’ concerns are well-founded.”
He thought he got through to them when one of the men scoffed.
“I can’t believe I wasted my time on something stupid like this. Shouldn’t you be out there, catching real criminals rather than wasting resources and our precious time?”
Well, someone had a hard time swallowing his pride. Namjoon wanted to point out that someone waltzing into a bank to steal a briefcase-full of money was not exactly what he would call “stupid” per se, but he kept quiet.
“I can’t believe our hard-earned tax money is used to pay people like you.” His companions seemed to agree because the room was soon filled with muttering, with the occasional glare thrown his way.
That was apparently the final straw for Jimin. One second, Namjoon was still holding onto his wrist and the next, he was grasping at thin air. His warning glare went completely unnoticed as Jimin slammed his palms on the table, startling the room into silence once again.
He stared at every single one of the men in attendance, not bothering to hide his disdain at what he saw.
“For a bank as big as yours,” Jimin directed towards the man that had spoken up, each word coming out like a block of ice sliding down their backs for all the iciness they contained. “I’m surprised you’re not spending more money on security. I mean, it’s not like you don’t have the funds for it.”
His remark earned him a wide-eyed look from Namjoon. He shot him a shrug before turning his attention back to the bankers who have started talking again.
“You do realize none of the money in that reserve belongs to us right?” one banker snarked condescendingly. “That’s the whole premise of a bank. Again, what are we doing here? I can’t believe I’m wasting my time explaining what a bank is to a child.”
If there was one thing Jimin hated, it was condescending people. One glance at Jimin and Namjoon knew there was nothing he could do to stop him. He sighed, already dreading the amount of damage control he’d have to do one Jimin was through with them. He pinched the bridge of his nose again, willing his growing headache away.
That banker was going to get hell for what he said.
“Yes, of course that money doesn’t belong to you,” Jimin agreed with a smile far too wide to be innocent. “I’m sure the lack of funds is the reason why you would ever consider wearing Burberry over Zegna, hmm?” He nodded at the wrist. “Nice Rolex you got there, but aren’t you a little overdressed for a simple meeting with the FBI?”
Jimin shifted his weight towards the banker sitting to the man’s right. “Don’t you think so t—Oh my."
If Namjoon didn’t know Jimin any better, he would have almost bought his surprised expression. As it was, he didn’t. “Look at that, you’re just as overdressed, if not more, than your friend beside you. It’s almost as if—” Jimin paused for effects— “there was some kind of point you were trying to prove? But that can’t be right, can it? What point could a bunch of bankers have to prove to a handful of federal agents?”
His eyes hardened as his face lost all traces of the previous fake pleasantries he’d been forced to put up. He stared down the bankers. A few of them coughed to avoid his gaze altogether.
Jimin flashed them a smile that was more mocking than genuine. “I wonder how much harder my work would have been if those bonuses gone to fatten your already heavy pockets was money spent on strengthening your security systems.”
Jimin could see Namjoon’s horrified expression from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t care less at this point. He’ll take whatever lesson Namjoon will drill into him later. Right now, he had more pressing matters to attend to, like teaching a room of fifty-year-old bankers the basics of respect.
“Did you have to go out of your way to aggravate them like that?” Namjoon ground out through clenched teeth, as soon as they crossed into his office. His hand went to loosen his tie, feeling constricted.
Jimin carefully closed the door before turning towards Namjoon who was still waiting for an answer. His eyes shone with a kind of fierceness Namjoon didn’t see often.
“Please, it’s not as if they came here feeling particularly respectful either. I’m just returning the favour,” Jimin retorted hotly. “Also, it’s not my fault this meeting was filled with overgrown man-children, all begging for a good tongue lashing.” He scoffed. “Not to mention the way they dressed—they couldn’t have made their intentions any more obvious if they tried.”
“What does that even mean?” Namjoon let out, body dropping heavily against the window sill behind his desk as Jimin took a seat in front of him. He was still angry at Jimin’s blatant disregard for protocol, but he realized with no small degree of annoyance that it was already simmering away. It was hard to stay angry at him for any extended period of time for some reason.
“He was wearing Burberry with a Rolex,” Jimin deadpanned, as if it was supposed to mean anything to Namjoon.
“So? The man likes his brands, that doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“But of course it means everything, Namjoon! You know the brands, that says a lot!” Namjoon was sure there was some kind of hidden jab in that sentence but he wasn’t sure he followed.
Noting his silence, Jimin sighed. “Look, I’m not saying this to be mean but you literally only know the most basic of brands, the brands a toddler could recognize at a glance. So if you can recognize that he was wearing Burberry and a Rolex, it says a lot about why they chose to wear what they wore,” Jimin explained with a huff.
“It’s such a tacky combination, like he’s desperate for others to know he has money. He was trying too hard to show you this whole thing was just a waste of time.” Jimin paused, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. He was playing around with his rings, Namjoon noted distractedly. A habit he had when he was nervous.
“He was also undermining everything you said and did, as if the whole thing was just a complete waste of his time. Like you were a joke,” Jimin admitted, eyes downcast. “I guess that paired with his tacky wardrobe and superiority complex created a combination I wasn’t particularly fond of.”
With that admission, Namjoon felt the anger fizzle out. His eyes softened. Jimin was just trying to protect him in his own little way. Namjoon could hardly fault him when he would have most likely done the same.
“Still, you shouldn’t have done that,” he admonished. “I get that you were unhappy but it still doesn’t give you the right to just say whatever you want, especially since this is serious work we’re doing. I hope you recognize that."
Jimin nodded, still not looking at him.
Namjoon sighed, defeated. He couldn’t stay angry at Jimin for long, not when he was doing his best impression of a kicked puppy. Namjoon was filled with the inexplicable urge to bring him closer and tuck his head under his chin.
He shook his head to get rid of the thought.
“It’s fine, it’s okay. To be perfectly honest, they were kind of annoying anyways,” Namjoon admitted. Jimin peeked at his face.
“You’re not mad anymore?” he asked, voice small.
“No, I’m not mad anymore.” Namjoon huffed. “I can hardly stay mad at you when you tried so hard to defend my honour right?” Jimin looked up to see Namjoon rubbing the back of his neck with a small laugh.
Jimin wouldn’t admit it even under gunpoint but the movement was… endearing.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away, even as Namjoon’s expression shifted into a look of confusion at his continuous staring. He could only pray that his face didn’t betray what he felt inside.
Flirting was easy, it didn’t have to mean anything but this—
This was Emotions with a capital ‘E’.
And because Park Jimin was so bad at dealing with those, he shot up from his seat, ready to leave before his big mouth decided to say something stupid and incriminating that would break the precarious balance between them.
“I think Hoseok is looking for me,” Jimin said instead of the million of other things he wanted to say. “He mentioned something earlier about needing to see me so, I’ll, umm, walk myself out,” he finished awkwardly before heading towards the door. He was almost there when—
“Hey Jimin?"
—he was stopped yet again. He turned towards Namjoon expectantly.
“That’s the third time you’ve stopped me from leaving today,” Jimin mused after a beat of silence. “I’m keeping count.”
They stared at each other, Namjoon from the one side of the desk and Jimin from the other.
He watched as Namjoon pushed himself off of the window sill, carefully making his way to him.
Jimin made sure to meet him halfway.
Namjoon stopped, ever conscious about keeping a respectful distance between the two. A small but growing part of Jimin desperately wanted to close that gap and it screamed at him to just do it. He kindly told that part of him to shut up.
Instead, he waited.
In the end, it was Namjoon who made the first move, hand slowly raising towards Jimin. His hand hovered awkwardly over the space between them until he finally dropped it down and softly ruffled Jimin’s hair. He then carefully brushed the mussed up parts back into place.
“It’s good to have you back,” Namjoon whispered with a soft smile before leaving, letting the door close behind him with a soft click.
Jimin was alone in the room. He exhaled.
It came out shaky.
He tried to ignore the way his heart had skipped a beat from the warmth in Namjoon’s look, the way his heart had thundered in his chest and how he could hear the blood rushing through his ears when he felt the soft touch on top of his head.
Kim Namjoon was probably the only person in this entire world that could fluster him to the point of losing his ability to speak. There was something about him that made Jimin feel like a teenager again, all awkward limbs and stuttering speech.
What irony. To think that the single most clumsy person to ever become a special agent of the White Collar Crime Division would be the only person to be able to reduce him, Park Jimin, con man extraordinaire, to a pile of blushing mess.
He ran his hand down his face. His mind was still busy mulling over Namjoon’s words to him.
Jimin watched through the glass panels on the door as Namjoon spoke with one of his subordinates. He could feel his entire body fill with affection for this amazing man who had so much love for the world, who would always be willing to go through great lengths to ensure the safety of the people he cared about.
(A part of him hoped that someday, he could be a part of that group too.)
Jimin supposed it was that ability to love indiscriminately that drew him in.
“You’re saying that as if I’ve ever left,” he finally replied to the empty room.
As if I could ever leave your side.