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Bubblegum Bitch

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On the home page of Muscle Pig Delivery Service it did specifically say 'We Deliver Everywhere!', but that didn't mean Jungkook had expected to get an order from a business district in Gangnam on 33 vegetarian sandwiches.


Honestly Jungkook's fanciest delivery until now was a few cakes for a shotgun wedding, and driving onto the parking lot of a high-rise skyscraper on his ratty motorcycle looked a little sad. He parked his bike between two humongous SUVs, took off his helmet and stared at the intimidating glass building. Everyone walking in and out of the front doors were dressed in stylish suits, and Jungkook took one look down at his ripped jeans and sighed. 




While Gangnam was generally considered intimidating in Jungkook's books, it also meant money, and Jungkook had counted a lot of zeros behind the sum his employer offered for the delivery of these vegetarian sandwiches. 


Jungkook pulled the box off the back of his motorcycle, grabbed his bag with the card machine his co-worker Jiwoo had invested in for their small company, and walked towards the front doors of the high-rise building. He entered with a throng of businessmen just finishing their lunch break, and took a swift turn towards the reception area upon realizing he had no idea where he was going. 


He cleared his throat awkwardly in front of the disastrously bored-looking receptionist. 


"Hello," Jungkook greeted, "I have a delivery for a Kim Namjoon from Bangtan Magazine?" 


Jungkook thought it was an awful name for a fashion magazine, but maybe that's why he wasn't in the fashion industry. 


“It’s lunch hour, I’ll call their office for you to make sure he’s in," the receptionist said, pressing a button on the phone in front of her. She placed the phone to her ear, all while keeping uncomfortable eye contact with Jungkook. "Hello, this is the lobby reception. There's a delivery for Kim Namjoon." 


Jungkook didn't hear what was being said on the phone, but tried to look very interested in the art hanging over them to avoid a sudden, awkward staring contest. He probably looked very out of place. 


"Kim Namjoon is not in his office right now, he's working on a photoshoot," the reception finally said after a short while on the phone. "I suppose that's where your delivery is going. Floor 16, studio 3." 


"Thank you." 


Jungkook didn't forget his manners and bowed at the receptionist while taking his leave towards the elevators. He entered with a rowdy bunch of office-workers, all of them talking animatedly about some deadline, and Jungkook barely managed to press the button for floor 16 before being squeezed into a corner. 


They barely let him out of the elevator again a little later, as if Jungkook's presence was bothering them somehow, and Jungkook stumbled into a pretty bare hallway with a large, red, '16' painted on the wall. The door to studio 3 was already in sight, and Jungkook could hear loud voices from inside, incoherent arguments floating into the hallway. 


Jungkook used his elbow to press down the handle and kicked he door open with his foot, entering a large studio set; he saw a large array of artificial plants in front of a blue screen and tall, pretty girls in swimsuits surrounded by cameras. He only managed to take the scene in for a few seconds before being interrupted by a harsh voice.


"Who are you?" 


Jungkook tried his hardest not to gape at the man talking to him, but he had always been horrible at masking his expressions. The stranger had a deep voice but a small, pretty face, tan skin and bleached blond hair falling across his forehead. His eyes were large, he had a sharp nose and full lips, and Jungkook's eyes fretted between the many piercings in his ears. He was taller than Jungkook by quite a lot, but Jungkook only realized why when letting his eyes travel down his intricately patterned suit to the tall designer heels on his feet. 


"Uhm," Jungkook started, not knowing where to look, "I'm just here with the delivery -" 


The guy didn't seem to have heard him, his head snapping around to look over his shoulder at someone shouting loudly about the lighting. His ear-piercings made soft, jingling sounds and Jungkook was immensely distracted by the guy's side profile, so much that he almost forgot what the hell he was even there for.


"Ah," the guy said when he turned around again, wide eyes scrutinizing Jungkook's attire as he chewed obnoxiously on the piece of sweet-smelling gum in his mouth, "you must be the new intern." 


No, Jungkook thought in panic, no, I'm absolutely not. His mouth was opening and closing but no sound seemed to come out, and it didn't seem like this guy was listening either, eyes moving towards the set behind them. It was like he had already decided Jungkook was the intern. 


"Put the food on the table over there, the models will get hungry and are allowed a break in about thirty minutes." The guy was sizing him up again, managing to blow a small, pink bubble with his gum with a grimace on his face. "I'm Kim Taehyung, fashion editor. You better discard that sweater before tomorrow or I will personally burn it." 


Jungkook stared down at his black sweater, frown on his face. This was a brand name sweater, and one of Jungkook's favorites, even. He always wore it to work because it covered all of his tattoos, so old ladies wouldn’t deduct payment for how he looked. It happened before. "Listen, I'm just here for Kim Namjoon -" 


"Ah, Namjoon has been showing you around?" 


No! Jungkook's mind screamed. 


Kim Taehyung sighed and put a hand on Jungkook's shoulder; his hands were large and his fingers were thin and long and covered in rings, nails painted black. "Do you know who Kim Namjoon answers to, intern?" 


Jungkook would answer, but the guy was leaning close and he was very pretty and tall and intimidating, and his high cheekbones had a little glitter on them. He smelled exactly like the sweet gum he was chewing, and it was distracting the way his tongue would occasionally peek out to lick sugar off his lips. Jungkook’s own mouth was a little dry as he opened it to reply. 


"You?" he guessed, voice almost failing him. 


Kim Taehyung looked pleased, a fake smile sliding onto his face. "That's right, intern. So why don't you leave those sandwiches on the table, pull the sleeves of your horrid sweater up and come help me?" 


It wasn't like Jungkook wanted to, because Kim Taehyung was wrong and Jeonggguk had already tried telling him that. He would like to say he just didn’t say anything because he could exploit this opinionated, well-dressed asshole, but Jungkook was honestly just too flustered to say anything.


So, he did what Kim Taehyung told him to. 


"Okay, intern," Taehyung said, clapping his hands together. "I need you to carry some heavy boxes for me. They're going to the fashion department after the shoot, so I want all of them moved to the main studio entrance. A trolley is coming to pick everything up after the shoot, but it’ll be easier to pick them up from there.” He pointed at a large stack of cardboard boxes in the corner of the room. "Every box with fashion printed on them. I'm sure you can read that word, even if your own sense of fashion is questionable."


Jungkook was a little offended, but he also owned primarily white shirts, so a part of him definitely agreed. "Alright," he said, as if he really was an intern. 


"They're quite heavy, be mindful of your back," Taehyung voiced, blowing another bubble, and while it was words of kindness he sounded very nonchalant saying them. Like he just didn't want to be responsible if Jungkook did injure something. 


"It's okay," Jungkook said, "I'm quite strong." 


Taehyung's eyes seemed to inspect him again, and then he huffed a right, whatever, and told Jungkook to be responsive. And do his fucking job. 


Obviously, it wasn't Jungkook's job, but Kim Taehyung did turn around and walk away, so Jungkook could technically leave this post and find Kim Namjoon, whoever that was. Jungkook was starting to doubt he was going to get his money by the end of the day, because this set seemed extremely busy and no one looked particularly approachable. 


Jungkook reckoned he would have more luck when things had calmed down, and so he took a deep breath and lifted one of the boxes. 


Honestly, it wasn't exactly difficult work. It was just lifting kind-of heavy cardboard-boxes labeled 'fashion' and putting them down by the exit (gently, because Jungkook didn't know what was in them). It wasn't until Jungkook had placed the final box down by the entrance that someone finally approached him, deep furrow between his brows; the commotion by the cameras seemed to have died down a little behind them, Jungkook noticed.


"You're not the intern," the guy said. He was dressed in a slim, navy suit and his haircut looked more expensive than everything Jungkook owned. "Taehyung-ssi said he set my intern to work but the intern isn't arriving until tomorrow." 


Jungkook smiled sheepishly. "Uh, well, Kim Taehyung was very convinced I worked here, for some reason." He brushed some imaginary dust off his sweater. "I'm just the delivery guy. I got your sandwiches here in time, but then the he set me to work." 


"Jesus fucking Christ," the guy sighed, palming his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry. I ordered those sandwiches, I'm very sorry to have delayed you. I'll pay you for your hard work here as well, I'm very sorry." He said sorry so many times Jungkook almost felt bad, even if he was the victim in this situation.


"It's okay. I was too flustered to say much, I was at fault too," Jungkook said quickly, before he could apologize again. "Pay by cash or card?" 


"Cash," the guy Jungkook supposed was Kim Namjoon said, hurriedly pulling a wallet out of his inner pocket. He handed Jungkook a wad of 50 000 won bills, and Jungkook tried his best to mask his expression. "Again, I'm very sorry. This should hopefully compensate for your troubles."


Jungkook took the offered money without question, because honestly who was he to decline. He had done what Kim Taehyung asked him, and whether he was employed here or not he should get paid for the work he had done. “It’s more than enough,” Jungkook offered a small smile as he shoved the money into his bag, “thank you for using Muscle Pig Delivery Service.”


“Yes, uh - sorry, once again.”


Jungkook shook his head. “Don’t sweat it. I was free anyway. Then - I’ll take my leave.”


“Yes, of course - don't let me keep you any longer.”


Bowing slightly to Namjoon, Jungkook mumbled a formal goodbye and went towards the exit of the studio. On his way, he caught the gaze of Kim Taehyung, and Jungkook might have sent him a small, too-forced smile and wave before walking outside.











On Thursdays and Fridays, Muscle Bunny Delivery Service was not, well, in service, because those days Jungkook worked as a receptionist for his cousin’s small tattoo studio in Insa-dong. Jimin didn’t have many employees, but Jungkook was one of them, though with his relatively profitable delivery service Jimin wouldn’t let him work more than two days a week.


Something about raising him to be independent, or whatever.


Not that Jimin actually raised Jungkook or anything. Jimin was too busy with grades and cram school for most of his life for them to even hang out much, and Jungkook only realized why when Jimin suddenly moved to Seoul and opened his own tattoo studio. His cousin hadn’t seemed like the type who wanted to be a tattoo artist, but Jungkook remembered Jimin had always been a pretty decent artist, and one of the things they used to do together when they were younger was draw. The fact that Jimin had actually gone through with his parents’ wishes for such a long time only so that they would send him to Seoul by himself without question was positively genius.


When Jungkook decided he didn’t want to stay in Busan after high school, Jimin welcomed him with open arms to the hustle and bustle of Seoul, even when Jungkook said he didn’t want to go to university.


Jungkook had never been very good at school. He wasn’t fond of studying, and neither was he particularly good at it, but Jimin had always said there was nothing he couldn’t do. So, well, academics wasn’t Jungkook’s greatest strength, but he was good at adapting. He was good at just throwing himself into things, good at manual labour, good at fixing things. Muscle Pig Delivery Service had started with him just doing odd jobs around their neighborhood, helping old people change their lightbulbs, go get their groceries and drive them places for some quick cash. It was only one year ago he made an actual business out of it, with the help of Jimin and his second-in-command, Heeyeon.


Of course, Jungkook knew just having a service that said “I’ll help you with anything,” was highly dubious, so he decided a delivery service was the best way to market himself. You could still book him for other stuff, but then it was a more detailed process than just ‘go there, pick this up, deliver here’. He got some very odd jobs now and then, like that time he had dressed up as a mascot for a children’s birthday, and another time he was hired to babysit a teenager only a few years younger than himself.


Money is money.


Jungkook did have an assistant of sorts; a girl named Jiwoo, who usually took care of and declined the weirder requests they got (no, the teenager-sitting job was not the oddest thing Jungkook had been asked to do) and she also managed their online finances. She was only in her first year of university and juggled the work with a demanding schedule in school, and Jungkook always appreciated her help, even if they hardly actually saw each other.


Jiwoo was another reason why Jungkook agreed to have some days off every week, so that his only employee could actually get her education. As much as Jungkook disliked school, he wasn’t going to get in the way of Jiwoo doing well.


Working at Jimin’s tattoo studio was pretty easy work anyway. Jungkook only handled the incoming calls and made sure to send arriving customers in the direction of either Jimin or Heeyeon. In Jimin’s words, his job was just to ‘greet people and look pretty’.


“Do I have any more appointments today?”


Jimin had just sent his customer out the door, reminding the quite young girl to keep her shoulder wrapped. Jungkook checked the planner on the computer and shook his head. “You’re all free,” Jungkook said, returning to the game he’d been playing on his phone. He was ten thousand points away from a new high score in anipang. “Heeyeon-noona is done, too, she’s cleaning up her station.”


His cousin hummed. “Let’s order some food and eat here, then. You hungry?”


“Starving,” Jungkook groaned.


“Heeyeon!” Jimin called. “We’re getting food!”


Heeyeon exited her room, bunch of take-out pamphlets already in her hands. When Jungkook first met her he had been extremely intimidated; her whole demeanor screamed I’m in charge, and Jungkook would never dare go against her. She had a large array of colorful, pretty tattoos on her thighs and shoulders and always wore dark lipstick and long, fake nails. For a long time Jungkook wondered how Jimin had managed to befriend someone as cool as her.


Jimin was probably the nicest person Jungkook knew, and while Jungkook always made fun of his cousin he also respected him a lot. It was a shame that people judged Jimin so harshly when meeting him, because behind the intricate patterns of ink on his upper body and arms, his cousin was a ray of sunshine. Sometimes Jungkook wondered if they were even related, because Jimin was outgoing and patient and Jungkook was certainly not.


“Should we just get pizza?” Heeyeon asked, throwing the pamphlets onto the front desk. She pulled her green hair into a small, low ponytail. “I’ve been craving.”


With no complaints, they ended up ordering a meal deal from the nearest Mr. Pizza, getting enough for them to be fully satisfied when they each went back to their own respective apartments later. Jungkook used to live with Jimin up until a few months ago, but after saving up enough money with a steady income of delivery money Jungkook had found himself a small two-room apartment. It was still in the same neighborhood as Jimin’s place, but it felt better having a place for himself, no matter how shitty the apartment was.


“So,” Heeyeon said as they were seated on the sofa area with two large gold crust pizzas in front of them, “how’s the business, Guk?”


Jungkook nodded through a mouthful that was mostly cheese and strips of tender beef. “Pretty good,” he uttered, trying his best not to spit his food into Very Intimidating Girl Heeyeon’s face. “Jiwoo’s filtering out the bad requests, so business is a lot more effective now than I used to be on my own. Though yesterday was weird.”


Jimin lifted one eyebrow. If it was one thing Jungkook knew, it was that Jimin loved hearing about Jungkook doing odd jobs. He had nearly pissed himself laughing when Jungkook told him about the time he was hired as a magician for some kid’s party despite not knowing how to do magic tricks. “So what happened this time?” he asked, smile already crawling onto his face.


Shaking his head lightly, an image of Kim Taehyung popped up in the back of Jungkook’s head. Weird. “I mean, the job in itself wasn’t anything special,” he started, licking some bbq-sauce from his fingers, “just a regular food delivery. But it was for this high fashion magazine photo shoot or something, and one of the people working there thought I was an intern. And I was an idiot and wasn’t able to say anything about it, so I just - I just ended up doing what he told me to do?”


Heeyeon and Jimin both squinted at him. “Sorry, what?” Jimin voiced. “You just - did it? Why didn’t you say anything?”


“I don’t know!” Jungkook said, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. “I was just very flustered, and the guy was - uh - he didn’t seem like he would take no for an answer, anyway, so I just -” He paused, suddenly feeling like something was stuck in his throat. Maybe it was his dignity. “I got paid for it,” he finally mumbled, as an excuse.


“You’re such a pushover,” Heeyeon snorted, “a big, muscular pushover.”


Jimin, for a short second, looked concerned. “You said you got paid for it, right?” he voiced. “Then that’s good. But that was kind of…” Jimin snorted, and shook his head. “Wow, Jeonggukie.”


With a grimace, Jungkook took a big bite of his slice of pizza and tried to stare anywhere but Heeyeon and Jimin. “Whatever. It was a weird job, but I got paid for it. It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just - I hope they don’t call us again, you know? Is that stupid of me to say?”


“Did they pay a lot?”


“… yeah?”


Heeyeon nodded. “Then it’s stupid.”









Jungkook woke up at the crack of dawn the following Monday with his cell phone blaring out the newest Red Velvet track. He groaned, picked up his phone, and managed to read Jiwoo's name on his screen through the morning grogginess. With a sigh - because Jiwoo calling meant it was a job - Jungkook rolled out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he started stretching his sore limbs. He might have overdone himself at the gym yesterday.


"Yeah? What you got for me Jiwoo?"


Jiwoo hummed, sounding sleepy as well. "Coffee delivery. Same place as the veggie sandwiches from last Wednesday.”


Jungkook paused mid-action of pulling on his cleanest pair of pants and stared at his phone. As if expecting Jiwoo to say just kidding. "Again?" he questioned when she didn't pull it off as a prank immediately. Not that she did prank him often with fake calls for for jobs (she had never - Jeon Jiwoo was very professional), but Jungkook had shared with her the odd experience he had at Bangtan Magazine last Friday, so she knew he wouldn't be all too pumped on going back there.


"Yep," Jiwoo confirmed. "They're paying well again. It's not the same guy ordering this time, though, this time it's a..." she paused to find the customer's name in their orders, but for some reason Jungkook could already guess who had asked for an early morning delivery, "... Kim Taehyung."




Well, Jungkook was never one to say no to a well-paying job, even if he had to go through a probably very awkward conversation to get that money. He could manage. Jungkook had been in far more awkward situations than this before, he was sure. He just couldn't remember them at the top of his head.


Teenager-sitting. Teenager-sitting was worse than this, right?


Yeah, definitely.


"Okay, I'll get it done as soon as possible." Jungkook stared at the small, digital clock on his wall and frowned. 6:30. Fucking hell. "Where do they want me to pick the coffee up from?"


Jiwoo repeated the address of a Twosome Palace quite close to the office building, and said she would text it to him as well. "The order should be under Kim Taehyung's name, they’ll start it up for you when you get there" Jiwoo finished. "You don't have any more appointments until 4 after this, so just finish this quickly and you can go back to sleep."


She knew him too well. "Thanks. I'll be going."


"Good luck."


Jungkook placed his hands on his hips and stared at the pile of have-used-but-is-still-usable clothes lying on his office chair. He spotted the brand name sweater he had been wearing last time and wrinkled his nose. Why do I even bother, Jungkook thought as he went to his closet to find a clean, casual long-sleeved shirt. It was nice enough that Kim Taehyung wouldn't burn it, hopefully. He slipped quickly into the bathroom, freshened up a little - he could take a shower later, whatever - and tripped out of his bedroom.


“Oh, hey.”


Jungkook had almost forgotten he’d let Jimin crash on his couch. His cousin had been out clubbing last night with Heeyeon, and Heeyeon had accidentally taken Jimin’s stuff with her when she went back home, including his cellphone and the keys to his apartment. Jimin had knocked on Jungkook’s door at three AM after what he described as “the best lay ever” and promptly fell asleep in the middle of Jungkook’s living room.


“I’m not awake enough for you to be speaking to me,” Jimin mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He still had smudges of eyeliner on his face.


“Sorry,” Jungkook grinned, sheepishly. “Forgot you were here.”




Jungkook walked over and ruffled Jimin’s hair. “Make yourself something to eat before leaving, hyung. I went grocery shopping the other day, so there should still be edible stuff in the fridge.”


“Mhm,” Jimin mumbled, “thanks, Guk. You’re the best, sometimes.”


“Oh fuck you.” Jungkook flicked his forehead at that. “Whatever, I’m leaving. Go back to dreaming about whatever hot chick you were banging last night. If you’re still here when I come back I’ll cook something.”


Grabbing his leather jacket and helmet from the hallway closet, Jungkook took a wistful look at the clock before slipping on his Timberlands and leaving the apartment. “Bye hyung!” he yelled, shutting the door and jogging towards the stairwell. His motorcycle was parked at the bottom floor, in the garage of the apartment complex, next to his neighbor’s old-as-balls Ford. Jungkook checked the time again before turning the engine on; he had only used a few minutes getting ready, which was good. Muscle Pig Delivery Service prided itself on being timely.


The traffic was pretty bad, but Jungkook still made it to the Twosome Palace to pick up Kim Taehyung's coffee order - one vanilla soy latte; one - within twenty minutes. The ride to the now slightly familiar business building was a very short one, and Jungkook was pretty certain Taehyung could easily have walked over in his designer heels to get his own damn coffee. He couldn't believe Kim Taehyung had made him wake up at the ass-crack of dawn for one coffee.


There were significantly less people there this morning, and Jungkook found himself walking towards the lobby receptionist - it was the same lady, of course - to ask for Kim Taehyung. "Hello," he uttered, smiling awkwardly look of recognition flashed over the receptionist's face. "I'm here with a delivery to Kim Taehyung."


The receptionist nodded, slowly, sizing him up and down. "Aha. Bulletproof Magazine, floor 26. He should be in.”




The elevator ride was also a much more quiet and less claustrophobic one. It was only Jungkook and a well-dressed, short, thin man with inky black hair and a sour expression on his pretty face, and they were apparently both going to floor 26. The man looked at Jungkook and narrowed his eyes as the elevator doors closed, taking in his appearance in the numerous mirrors on the walls. "You don't work for me," he stated, and Jungkook wondered if every one of these fashion people just assumed boys dressed like him were interns. "Who are you?"


"I'm just delivering coffee."


The man looked at the vanilla latte in Jungkook's hand. "One coffee?" he voiced.


"Yes. One coffee for Kim Taehyung," Jungkook said, and honestly he couldn't help but sound immensely bitter about it. Jungkook treasured his sleep, damn it.


The guy snorted. "Ah. Taehyung. That makes sense."


Jungkook eyed the numbers of the floors slowly rising. This was taking too long. "Does he usually send people who doesn't work here out for random coffee runs?"


"No, he's supposed to have an assistant for that," the guy answered. "I might be Taehyung's boss, technically, but I can't do much about who he sends for his coffee. I'm afraid he doesn't listen to me, either." Oh, so this was the guy who was actually in charge, then. "How does he even know you?"


Jungkook wasn’t even sure why this guy wanted to know. ”Someone else hired me last Friday - Kim Namjoon?" the man grunted to show that he knew who Jungkook was talking about. "And then I showed up and Taehyung thought I was the new intern, so he made me move all this shit that was going back after your photo shoot or whatever, and I was a little too flustered to say no. So. Yeah. But I do actually do deliveries, I just don't - I usually don't end up in situations like those."


The guy - Kim Taehyung's boss - clicked his tongue. "Understandable. Kim Taehyung is pretty difficult to say against, isn't he?"


Tell me about it.


The elevator finally dinged, and Jungkook stepped outside after the other man. For someone so short, the guy had an impressive aura. ”I’ll show you Taehyung's office, if you'd like," he said, motioning for Jungkook to follow him in a nonchalant manner; Jungkook was in unfamiliar territory here, so who was he to decline? Bangtan Magazine HQ had a reception of its own, tall roofs and large fashion spreads blown up on the walls. Jungkook tried not to bump into too much of the minimalistic furniture as he followed the guy through the lit-up halls, attracting stares from several well-dressed people as he passed them.


"Here," the boss-guy voiced as they stopped in front of a door so suddenly Jungkook nearly faltered. He didn't, though, that's what's important.


"Thank you," Jungkook said, bowing his head.


"No problem. Don't let him bully you,” the guy smirked, and then he paced off, leaving Jungkook standing in front of Kim Taehyung's office door.


Jungkook cleared his throat rather nervously and turned to knock on the door, only to have it suddenly open on him. He managed to step back before the door hit him in the face, but then Kim Taehyung ran straight into him, and honestly Jungkook should have seen it coming. This morning was obviously doomed the moment he realized he had to go back here on Kim Taehyung’s orders.


Taehyung’s body collided with his, and Jungkook caught a whiff of sweet-smelling bubblegum before disaster struck.


The still-hot coffee - as fate had it - decided to spill all over Jungkook’s shirt, seeping through the material effectively. Jungkook hissed out a timely ‘motherfucker’ just as Kim Taehyung finally seemed to realize the situation. He stared down at Jungkook - those designer heels gave him an unfair advantage - frown slowly etching onto his face. Not a single drop of the drink had made it onto Taehyung’s navy blue designer suit.


“Is that my coffee on your shirt?”


Jungkook usually wasn’t good at talking back, but at this point he was tired and angry and his chest was burning. “Oh whose fucking fault is that?” he growled out. It was unlike himself, because Jungkook was never rude to customers. Not really. He might come off as uninterested and detached, but Jungkook was never deliberately rude. “Fuck this,” Jungkook voiced, examining the shirt closely, “why the fuck did I even come here.”


“Because I’m paying you to bring me coffee, duh,” Kim Taehyung scoffed. “And I guess you have to go get me another one, now, since this one spilled. And I’m cutting down the payment, since it’s taking too long.”


Jungkook couldn't help it when his jaw dropped. Was this guy serious? “You’re fucking joking, right?” he said. “You’ve got to be joking?” Jungkook was pretty sure he had never met a more pretentious asshole in his life. “I’m just - I’m just going to leave, and I won’t take your stupid fucking money, and then you can just never contact my delivery service again, how is that?” Jungkook pressed the now-empty cup into Taehyung’s chest. “Here. I’m sure you can lick some of that stupid-ass vanilla soy latte out of the cup, if you try hard enough. If not,” he pointed to his chest, “there is more than enough here, because you ran straight into me causing it to spill.”


Kim Taehyung actually looked surprised at that, eyes dropping to the stain on Jungkook’s shirt. “What… what exactly are you offering here, delivery boy? For me to lick your chest?”


Oh, fuck. Fuck, that wasn’t at all what Jungkook meant. He was just pissed, and when he got pissed he tended to say a lot of stupid shit. “I - ”


Shaking his head, Taehyung held the door to his office open and motioned for Jungkook to go inside with a jerk of his head. “Get in, delivery boy.”


“I did not mean -”


“Get. In.”


Mumbling under his breath, Jungkook did as he was told - fucking idiot as he was; he should have just walked away - and Taehyung slammed the door shut after them both. Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly as Kim Taehyung took long strides around him, to a rack of clothes standing behind his impressive desk. His office was huge, with large fashion spreads on the wall, a small seating area in one corner, and multiple clothing items hanging around and filling up the half-empty shelves on the wall. Jungkook noticed a whole shelf of glass-jars filled with bubblegum.


“Strip,” Taehyung said suddenly, effectively stopping Jungkook from examining the interior of the office.


Jungkook spluttered. “Excuse me?!”


Taehyung lifted one eyebrow, but for one second Jungkook thought he saw his cheeks flush. Probably the lighting. “Your shirt, delivery boy. I’m going to give you something to change into, and then you’ll go get my coffee and we’ll settle this business deal like adults. How’s that?”


Wow, okay.


Fucking asshole.


Grumbling, Jungkook moved to lift his shirt over his head, because honestly it was growing uncomfortable to wear coffee-stained fabric. He had a feeling borrowing anything from Kim Taehyung would have consequences, but once again Jungkook was just agreeing to whatever Taehyung told him to do.


Taehyung cleared his throat to get Jungkook’s attention, and no, the lighting was not fucking with him; Taehyung’s ears were bright red, and Jungkook was not imagining it. His eyes flickered between the tattoos on Jungkook’s arm and on his chest, and Jungkook wondered if it was possible to maybe just sink into the floor. Yeah, no, this was definitely a very awkward experience, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about Kim Taehyung quite obviously checking him out.


“S-shirt?” Jungkook voiced, weakly.


“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Taehyung pulled a piece of clothing - it looked innocent enough - from the rack, and walked over to Jungkook with it. He held it up to Jungkook’s chest, seemingly measuring it. “This should do. It’s last season, but I’m sure the likes of you don’t really mind?”


Jungkook was sure that was an insult, but he couldn’t find himself to care. The shirt was nice enough - white with some blue patterns on it - and while it wasn’t anything Jungkook would normally wear it was better than something coffee-stained. As Taehyung handed him the shirt, he hastily pulled it on, because honestly he didn’t want to stand shirtless in Taehyung’s office one second longer.


“Hey, Taehyung-ssi -”


Of course, just as Jungkook was shrugging on the shirt, the door to Taehyung’s office opened and someone stepped inside. He had orange hair brighter than Jimin’s personality and tanned skin and he looked more than just a little surprised to see that Kim Taehyung had company in his office. Jungkook wasn’t stupid - the second he saw the stranger’s eyes widen, he realized how this might look, and he hurriedly buttoned the rest of the shirt with his cheeks on fire.


“Did you want anything, Hoseok?” Taehyung asked. “I’m a little busy.”


No. No, stop, you’re making it worse.


“I - I can see that,” the guy named Hoseok uttered, staring between Taehyung and Jungkook with what seemed to be genuine curiosity. “I’m just here to remind you that you have a meeting in thirty minutes, and you should finish whatever… business you have until then.” He smiled, in a way that said I have just witnessed something brilliant, and then he was out the door as fast as he appeared.


Jungkook wondered if Kim Taehyung was daft and just hadn’t been able to read the situation, and he was about to ask why the hell he hadn’t said anything but then Taehyung’s hands were on his collar and he was so close. It was like Jungkook had forgotten just how pretty Kim Taehyung was up close just from last Wednesday and was seeing him again for the first time. He had such gorgeous tanned skin and glittering cheeks and long eyelashes and nice lips, and it hit Jungkook all at once and left him just a little breathless.


“There, now you look presentable enough, I suppose,” Taehyung voiced, and he was still a in Jungkook’s space and he smelled of bubblegum and his voice was smooth and deep and had a very obvious, forced Seoul dialect. Taehyung’s eyes sparkled, and for a very, very short moment it looked like he smiled.


“Uhm,” Jungkook stuttered, like an idiot.


Taehyung lifted one eyebrow at Jungkook’s response and finally stepped away. “Why are you just standing there like an idiot?” he snapped, voice suddenly harsh again. “Go get my coffee.”


And like that the moment was shattered, because honestly no matter how gorgeous Kim Taehyung was it couldn’t mask the fact that he was a fucking bitch.










On Tuesday morning, Jungkook was once again woken up by Jiwoo’s phone call at 6:30 AM.


“Let me guess,” he groaned into the phone, “Kim Taehyung?”














The fourth time Jungkook pressed the button to floor 26 to deliver Kim Taehyung his daily coffee he started wondering whether he was slowly accepting that this was just supposed to become routine. It was stupid, because after the first coffee delivery nothing really happened. Jungkook just delivered the usual vanilla soy latte, got his money, and then he was on his merry way. Taehyung didn’t hold him back or try to make him to intern work, and after getting the borrowed shirt back there was absolutely no reason for Jungkook to return to Bangtan Magazine. Yet, here he was, in the elevator on the way up to Kim Taehyung’s office, again.


“I’m getting used to seeing you.”


Jungkook shared a short, acknowledging smile with Taehyung’s boss - he had introduced himself as Min Yoongi - and held up the cup of coffee. “Yeah. I guess this is an everyday job now.”


Yoongi chucked. “Taehyung is insufferable, but as long as you are getting paid I’m sure you can manage.” It was true. Taehyung paid him good money for just picking up coffee, which was one of the reasons why Jungkook still agreed to doing this. It was easy money. “I didn’t see you on Thursday though. Or Friday?”


“Not working, then,” Jungkook said, because Yoongi was quite pleasant to hold conversations with compared to certain other people. “I have part time at my cousin’s tattoo parlor those days, but I’m in service on Saturdays. Sunday’s my only day off.”


“You’re busy, then,” Yoongi said, nodding his head slowly. “You don’t go to school? You look like you could be in college.”


Ah. College. “School isn’t really for me,” Jungkook said simply, because that was the truth. Usually people didn’t understand, because what could you do without college nowadays?


“I see.” The silence was a little defeating as the elevator came to stop on their floor and the doors dinged open. As usual, Jungkook let Min Yoongi out first. “Well, I suppose I might see you tomorrow, then, Jungkook-ssi. Please tell Taehyung to stop terrorizing you and rather find himself a new assistant?”


Before Jungkook had the time to answer or even ask why Taehyung didn’t have an assistant, Min Yoongi was gone, fretting down the hall to the right. Jungkook frowned, passing by the reception to get to Taehyung’s office. The receptionist - Jungkook didn’t know her name, but she was pretty and seemed nice - looked up from where she was filing her nails and offered Jungkook a good morning. Her quirk of her lips was just a little mysterious, but Jungkook tried not to think too much of it.


“Just here to deliver Kim Taehyung his coffee,” Jungkook said, just in case.


“Mhm,” the receptionist nodded, odd smile never leaving her lips.


What the fuck, Jungkook thought, looking over his shoulder as he ventured down the brightly-lit hallway. The road to Taehyung’s office was familiar now, and since Taehyung didn’t seem to want anything but coffee nowadays, Jungkook could manage. There had been no accidents and no Taehyung pushing him around to do odd jobs, so Jungkook could always leave as soon as he got his money.


He knocked on Taehyung’s office door - the plaque read Kim Taehyung, fashion editor in both hangul and english - and let himself in.


“Coffee delivery,” he voiced, peeking inside the office. Taehyung was on the phone, barely looking up as Jungkook entered. He motioned for Jungkook to put the coffee on his desk, and so Jungkook closed the door behind him and approached.


No, hyung, I’m not going to ditch the launch party,” Taehyung said, his voice strung and mouth set in a deep frown. “Why would I?”


Jungkook barely heard the indistinct sound of someone talking on the other end of the line. He felt like he shouldn’t be there, but Taehyung hadn’t paid him yet so he really didn’t have a choice but to stand there awkwardly. Taehyung grabbed his vanilla soy latte and took a small sip of it, humming. “I’m not going to drop out on the launch party just because you were an asshole and gave the chief editor position to Yoongi. I’m not that petty,” Taehyung said, sounding extremely petty. “I’ll come, hyung. Don’t worry.”


The smile on Taehyung’s face was strained, and his eyes flickered up to Jungkook briefly. “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll… think about it. He might be busy.” Taehyung cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair. “See you, hyung. Now hang up, international calls are really expensive, you know.”


Jungkook watched as Taehyung ended his call, put the phone back on his desk and groaned, resting his head in his hands. Awkwardly clearing his throat, Jungkook shifted the weight on his feet where he stood.


“May I have my money now, Taehyung-ssi?”


“Huh?” Taehyung met his gaze, wide-eyed, and Jungkook felt his heart stutter because Taehyung looked so confused, like he had no idea why Jungkook was still there.


“My payment, Taehyung-ssi. I have another job to get to, so if you wouldn’t mind…?”


“Oh! Oh, right!” Taehyung hurriedly stood up from his seat, heels clicking against the expensive wooden floor as he walked over to the seating area in the corner, picking up a sleek, black bag. “You have another delivery this early?” Taehyung asked, and Jungkook was very surprised he actually tried making conversation. He hadn’t said many nice things to Jungkook following up to this, so it was… unexpected.


“No, it’s… another sort of job.”


Taehyung turned and looked at Jungkook over his shoulder. “That sounds really dubious, delivery boy.”


At this point Jungkook was pretty sure Taehyung knew his name, but for some reason he kept insistingly calling Jungkook delivery boy. “It’s not anything weird,” Jungkook said. Not this time, he added in his head. “I was asked to do a self defense class at a girl’s high school, and they’re paying me for it. Simple as that.”


“Are you even certified to do that?” Taehyung asked, scoffing. Jungkook wasn’t really, but both he and Jiwoo did martial arts when they were younger, and the school didn’t mind. It was the first job they had agreed to take on as a team in a long while, and Jungkook was looking forward to it. “I was not aware that’s how your business worked.”


“I’m sure you didn’t read everything on our webpage, then,” Jungkook said.


Taehyung pursed his lips as he walked over to Jungkook, Jungkook’s payment in his hand. “I suppose I didn’t,” Taehyung said. “I’ll make sure to read it thoroughly until next time. I’m sure it explains why you aren’t in service on Thursdays and Fridays, too?”


“I have a part time job,” Jungkook uttered, voice faltering now that Taehyung was standing close to him. He always tried to talk in a stable, nonchalant manner to make himself appear more confident, but whenever Kim Taehyung got into his personal space Jungkook became a stuttering mess. Jungkook hated how effected he was, just because Taehyung was attractive and tall and had very pretty eyes. “My co-worker is quite busy with university, so for her sake I keep the delivery service closed a few days every week.”


Taehyung lifted his brows, quickly. “How considerate of you.”


“I know, I’m pretty nice.”


To Jungkook’s surprise, Taehyung chuckled, and for once the smile on his face didn’t look the least bit smug. Oh no, Jungkook thought. Oh no, he can’t have a cute smile that is so unfair. “I guess you are. Well, there is your money -” Jungkook startled as Taehyung promptly shoved the money into the front pocket of his jeans, “- so you are free to go. I’m a very busy person, and it seems you are as well, so let’s not keep each other occupied.”


Jungkook, still in shock that Taehyung had actually just done that barely managed a nod before turning around to leave the office. “Hey, delivery boy?” Taehyung spoke up, and Jungkook turned around again embarrassingly fast.




Taehyung shot him another smile, an adorable box-shaped one, and lifted his coffee cup. “See you tomorrow.”


“Y-yeah,” Jungkook said, fumbling to open the door, “tomorrow.”


What the fuck, he thought as he passed by the reception on his way to the elevator with flaming cheeks. What the actual fuck.







“Man, that was fun,” Jiwoo voiced, stretching her arms over her head as they exited the premises of the all-girls high school. They had just spent one hour teaching fourteen-year-olds how to throw grown men (read: Jungkook) into the ground, and Jiwoo had been in her element, enthusiastically showing off about thirty different ball-kicking techniques. Jungkook, with a very sore back, groaned at her enthusiasm.


“Yeah, I could tell you enjoyed yourself,” he said. “Thanks for not actually kneeing me in the balls during all that. I could tell you were tempted.”


Jiwoo patted Jungkook’s hurting shoulder. “I do technically work for you, Jungkook, so I wasn’t going to hurt you too much. I’ll buy you some lunch as compensation for throwing you to the ground?”


“I accept.”


They left Jungkook’s bike on the school’s parking lot - Jiwoo didn’t drive, but Jungkook had promised to give her a lift back home - and started scouting the nearby area for a decent restaurant. They found one without much difficulty, the old waitress ushering them in and taking their orders even before they had time to sit down.


Jungkook counted through the money the school’s principal had given them, pulling out Jiwoo’s share and handing it to her immediately. Usually Jungkook got most of the payment, since he was the one actually doing the job, but this time they split it 50/50. Jiwoo, already on her phone, barely looked up to accept the money. “Oh, thanks,” she voiced, and Jungkook choked on nothing as she simply stuffed the money into her bra. “I saw I’d gotten a few e-mails during the self defense class, so -”


She paused, her brows furrowing deeply at whatever she was reading on her screen. “What the fuck,” she voiced, looking up from her screen, “what the fuck.”


“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked. “Is it a weird request?”


“Oh, it’s weird alright,” Jiwoo confirmed. She continued scrolling down her phone, eyes widening more and more the further she read. “It’s really weird.”


Jungkook frowned, leaning over the table. “Then just reject it?”


“I mean -” Jiwoo hesitated, “- it’s from that guy at Bangtan Magazine, Kim Taehyung -”


Jungkook hated how he could already feel his face heating up, but he tried to fake a grim expression at the mention of Taehyung’s name. “W-what about him? What does he want?” Jungkook asked, and Jiwoo grimaced before handing him her phone. Jungkook scrolled to the top of the e-mail and started reading.


From: Kim Taehyung (

Subject: Job Request




This is a formal request for Muscle Pig Delivery Service to help me with a simple, one-evening task. I might have gotten myself in sort of a… situation, and I am in need of a date for a launch party three weeks from now. As I have used your services before I am sure you know who I am asking for; I’m willing to pay a large sum for Jeon Jungkook’s company thorough the night, and for him to pretend we have been dating for a while.


I will request for him to join me on a few occasions to take pictures and make it a little believable, but I will pay you extra for the trouble. I am not sure how much is appropriate payment for this sort of job, so please contact me on that notion. If you agree to the job I am willing to discuss details.


Best wishes,

Kim Taehyung


Jungkook almost dropped Jiwoo’s phone after reading the e-mail, staring up at his co-worker with wide eyes. The old waitress came over with their food but Jungkook couldn’t even focus on how delicious it looked, because what the hell. When he told Taehyung about his business and how it wasn’t just a delivery service this morning he hadn’t expected Taehyung to actually take use of that information. Was this why he had been acting weirdly nice?


“This is on you, Jungkook,” Jiwoo said, pulling a bowl of kimchi stew closer to her. “I mean, it’s a weird-ass request, but you’ve done some pretty bizarre shit for money, so this might not be that bad? Anyway, I’m putting the decision on your shoulders, since you’re the one that has to do this shit.”


Jungkook should say no, because Kim Taehyung was pretty and intimidating but also a complete bitch, and now that Taehyung wasn’t even here, enthralling Jungkook with his looks, he should be able to. He should be able to tell Jiwoo to reject the offer. He could honestly just tell Jiwoo to reject all of Taehyung’s offers, because Jungkook was his own boss, damn it, but for some reason he felt like he would lose. He would not only lose a customer, but he would lose whatever game Taehyung was playing by constantly hiring Jungkook just to get him his fucking coffee.


Determined to find out just what Taehyung wanted from him - because this couldn’t possibly have been Taehyung’s plan to begin with - Jungkook gave the phone back to Jiwoo and said, “accept it.”


Jiwoo paused in the action of taking a spoonful of soup, staring at Jungkook. “Are you for real?”


Jungkook nodded, already knowing he was going to regret this. “Yeah. If it’s Kim Taehyung we can be sure to milk a lot of money out of it, so I’m sure it’ll be worth it. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow. When I deliver his coffee.”


“Oh. Right. Yeah, he already put in the order for you to come by tomorrow, I forgot to tell you.”


For a second, Taehyung’s grin when he had said see you tomorrow flashed in front of Jungkook’s eyes, and he could feel himself flushing for absolutely no reason. “Hm. Though so,” he mumbled, hiding his reddening face in the steam of the boiling hot soup in front of him.


He was so going to regret this.




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