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13, July. 2028 -
It should've been just another boring and busy Wednesday, where a bunch of loud and boisterous rich people would come to his clinic and complain about all the imaginary deadly illnesses they had, or how they knew sooner than later they would need another dose of what they think would help them to live better, longer. Boring, as I said. Though, Jimin knew better than complain. Life was good like that, he had everything he needed, a place to call home, a job at a well-known hospital in the middle of the Solna Municipality, located just north of the Stockholm City Centre. It was perfect.
Jimin had chosen the city for many reasons, but the one above all was how beautiful the whole city was. Calm, clean and especially, very far away from Seoul. Faraway from trouble.
What Jimin didn’t want was have to deal with things he chose to leave behind him, and Stockholm was a great place to restart his life. Or try. Whatever. He was happy there, it’s been a few months since he moved to his new homey apartment, he even adopted a three-leg calico cat who he just named ‘Cat’. What? It’s easy to remember, he’s not really that good with names; You see!?
That’s why he was really, really concerned when he saw a very familiar, or better saying, ‘similar’ name stamped on his next patient's medical record. ‘Ian Joseph Seagull’… No, it can't be. Jimin was sure it was just a coincidence. It’s been months since the last time he tried to contact him, he knew it was just a coincidence. And it was with that thought that he entered his office to meet his next patient. But he should’ve known better. Of course, he should.
- MOOD - FEVER
“Well, hello there Dr. Park…” This can’t be real, not again. Jimin was probably sleeping! Yeah, that’s right…. He was still sleeping on top of his soft bed, inside his warm apartment with his cute cat ‘Cat’ sleeping by his side purring lowly. Yeah, it was just a dream! A nightmare. “Such a lovely evening, isn’t it? And darling… You look great Blonde!”
This damn voice again. “…What the fuck! What- What the fuck, Jungkook!” He should’ve known better. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Once again Jimin was whispering yelling to this damn face. This damn smile. Sitting on top of his hospital stretcher, wearing one of his fancy trousers and shining oxford shoes, a luxury blazer casually folded at his side while he was looking at Jimin like it was just yesterday they saw each other for the last time. It wasn’t.
“Wow… It’s great to see you too Jimin-ah! I missed your gentle words with my whole heart, baby…” Jimin hated that smug smirk. Jimin hated how his body was even more fit, how he could see a very healthy tan glowing on the man’s jovial face. Jimin wanted to punch him right on his face. Again.
The loud slamming of the door was Jimin’s only answer. Jimin didn’t want chit chat. He knew that with the man it would come only with a headache, or something a bit more sore down there... Anyway.
“How did you find me?”
“I always know where you are baby.” He wasn’t lying. Jimin knew when the man was lying. The man crossed his arms on top of his chest, another new tattoo picking at the rem of his black long sleeve turtle neck. A silly smile on his pink thin lips. Jimin hate it. “I can’t lose sight of my men, especially my best doctor in the field; you know that.”
“I’m not in field anymore.” Jimin was tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. It was what? The thirty-fourth time he said that? Why he keeps repeating himself when it comes to this man? “You know that already. I’m not your doctor and I’m not your man.”
“Come on baby, you know that’s not true.” He shouldn’t come closer. The man was always like that, he talked, sweetly, charming, using all his good-looking points to bend Jimin to his wills. Jimin should’ve know better. It’s always like that. “I need you in the field with me. I need you by my side.”
“I’m not going Jungkook.” Taking the man’s hands off his face, hands that always softly touched him, his body, was just another thing that should stop. Jimin knew the M.O. he used would be the same as usual. He would sweet-talk him, touch him, in ways that only he knew how, and silly Jimin would melt, give in and he would have what he wants, once again. “I told you the last time when we were still in Singapore. I’m out. I’m done.”
“Jimin… I need you.” That damn voice. Jimin hate his voice. The way chills still run down his spine, how his whole body starts to get hot and itch with the way the man says his name… Jimin hated it all.
“You have other doctors, don’t you?”
“No. Not like you.”
“They are just as fine I suppose.” Jimin knew the drill. This time he wouldn’t give in easily. He was happy with his knew boring life. He didn’t need the war zone, the chaos, blood and all the adrenaline induced sex. He didn’t. He loved his boring and slow and easy life. “You said that yourself the last time.”
“Don’t be like that. You know why I said that, you know they aren’t as good as you... You are the best baby.” Taking another step back was what Jimin should do when the man approached him again, trying to put his big rough hands around his waist, bringing their bodies close to each other. Jimin shouldn’t allow him to touch him, he definitely shouldn’t. Jimin was a weak man though. “You are the only one for me. We are a team… Perfect together.”
“Perfect together? Ha!” Jimin shouldn’t laugh. He should push the man away, scream at the security to take him out, should find a way to make the man leave. If Jimin believed in the police he was really ready to call the cops, he really was. Again. “What is it this time? Infiltration? Extraction? Rescue? What is it, hnm…? Tell me.”
“It’s complicated, baby…” Jimin hate his eyes. His deep dark brown eyes, full of stars and false promises. Jimin shouldn’t look at it for too long or he would be trapped in it. Again. That damn mole bellows his bottom lip, Jimin wanted to burn it, he was so mad at having to look at it again, to remember. To want.
“It’s always complicated when it has you involved Jungkook.” This time he is stepping out of the man’s reach. Going to hide behind his desk is the right thing to do, Jimin knows it, just as much as he knows how it will not work against this man. It never works against him. “And let’s not forget; probably illegal.”
“Well, it’s not always illegal… Just, you know, we can’t always do the right things when it comes to our jobs…”
“Ours?” That’s ridiculous, Jimin knows he is trying to get some time, he knows, he will look to the other side, blink, and BOOM, he will strike and Jimin will wake up in a different country laid on top of silk sheets and with a very naked Jungkook by his side smiling at him with that eyes that Jimin hate so, so much. Again “… It’s Yours. That’s your job. Not mine. Not anymore.”
“You’re the only doctor I can count for this one, Jimin-ah…”
“That’s bullshit.”
“You’re the only doctor with experience on the field, who has weapon expertise, two black belts and speaks eight languages, two of them dead languages.” The man shouldn’t crosse his desk, he shouldn’t sit on top of his desk in front of Jimin with soft (or sexy, whatever) eyes, legs spread to accommodate the tiny body of the angry doctor glaring at him. He knew what he was doing. And Jimin? Jimin was a very weak man. With a weakness that the man knew better than anyone else.
He knew Jimin loved him, just as much as he loved Jimin. He was very good at reminding Jimin of it, especially with the passionate kiss he shouldn’t be giving to the doctor inside his own clinic, during his working hours with a line of patients waiting for their own time with him. But Jimin should’ve know better. Against Jungkook he would always be the loser. Again and again.
“I hate you, Jungkook.”
“I love you, Jimin.”