There’s a stuffy, bourgeois air about the place that Namjoon would despise, Jin ponders as he takes a dainty sip of his overpriced gin and tonic.
Jimin isn't here yet. Of course Jimin isn't here yet. Of course Jimin, who is 15 minutes early to everything, would choose tonight of all nights to run late, leaving Jin sitting by himself at an uncomfortably lavish cocktail bar, surrounded by business cards gilded with gold, hair gel that costs more than his watch, and rich dudes who think they can buy everything including him by the looks he's drawing. He checks his phone and re-reads the last message he got from Jimin before he decided to drop off the face of the Earth.
Jimin: On my way
40 minutes ago.
He feels the crawling prickle of eyes on him as he shoves his phone back into his pocket, wondering what exactly the fuck this place is. All he knows is that the second he stepped through this door, he picked up on an undeniably predatory vibe in the place that is at striking odds with the convivial laughter, the gentle tinkling of fine glassware, the soft classical piano music filtering through the stuffy, perfumed air.
Namjoon would hate this place, Jin can't help but think again as he snaps a surreptitious photo of a man wearing real-life monocle to send to the group chat. Jimin should hate this place honestly, though his would be a primarily aesthetically-based hatred. Pleather pants would never fly in a place like this, so Jin honestly can't even fathom the motivation behind Jimin asking him here.
Glancing around the room, Jin sees one or two other guys who are young and good looking, but the majority of them seem to be at least 20 years older, well-dressed and openly leering. The only women here are young, perfectly primped and polished, not one of them over 25. The men with whom they're speaking are several noticeable hotness leagues below them, and the women's screaming laughter is so forced that Jin wonders if it actually hurts.
Five more minutes, he tells himself. If Jimin’s beautiful ass is not planted in the seat next to him in five more minutes, he's out of here.
A greasy, greying man in an expensive looking silk robe and ascot licks his dry, wrinkled lips as he holds Jin's gaze, and nope, make that two more minutes.
But of course, just as Jin has determined to leave, he feels a tentative, shaky tap on his shoulder, and it's such a light touch that he wonders briefly if he imagined it. He turns around, fully prepared to glare, but when he is met with giant, terrified eyes and pretty pink lips slightly parted over too-big front teeth, his glare softens into a more neutral expression.
“Um. Hello,” the guy says, just a little bit too loud over the quiet murmur of the room. The woman next to them shifts to glance disdainfully at them.
“Hi…” Jin replies, and he can't help that it sounds like a question.
The man in front of him swallows hard. “How are you?”
“I'm... good, how are you?” Jin responds politely, if a little confused.
“Oh, I'm good. How are you?” It takes a second to register, but when it does, Jin sees the guy visibly cringe at himself. "Shit."
“Still… good,” Jin says slowly, unable to conceal his amusement.
“Sorry. Can I sit there?” He points at the empty stool next to Jin.
The guy looks relieved as he scrambles into the seat next to Jin. “Thanks.” He shoots a nervous look over his shoulder then fixes his gaze on his lap. “Do you… do you want a drink?”
“Oh. Thanks, but I'm set for now.”
The guy's eyes dart to the mostly full drink in Jin's hand, and he mutters, "Shit. Sorry."
Jin's eyebrows quirk in confusion. "It's... fine. Thanks for the offer, though." The guy just nods, nervously biting his lower lip, and Jin feels a gentle tug in his chest, almost protective. which is ridiculous given the fact that this guy is clearly (badly) trying to pick him up. But there's just something very vulnerable and endearing about the set of his shoulders and the way that his eyes stay glued to the shiny mahogany bar.
“I'm just…" the guy mumbles, "I've never done this before so I don't really know how it works."
Jin quirks an eyebrow. Never picked someone up? He does look young. “Look I appreciate it, but I was just about to leave, so-"
“No! Please, wait." He finally tears his gaze away from the bar and stares up at Jin, eyes desperate. "I know... I know I'm young, but I'm like mega loaded, like richer than all these old guys for sure. Look!” He tugs his wallet out of his pocket and digs around frantically for a second before slapping a massive wad of bills on the table. It’s easily a thousand dollars.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jin asks with dismay, jerking his head to the left then to the right as if someone is going to snatch the cash right off the table. “What is that for?”
“It’s… for you. Is it not… enough?” he asks, looking crestfallen.
“Enough for… oh.” It dawns on him. Everything about the place screams it. “Oh sweetie. For sex?”
He almost falls off his chair as he gapes at Jin in fear. “What! No!” His eyes scan Jin’s face as he almost seems to reconsider. “I mean like… not... exactly." He pauses then to take several deep breaths, obviously distraught, and Jin actually has to lean in to hear the rest. "I just wanted to see if you were-" he glances abruptly over one shoulder, then over the other, as if he's being watched, "-interested."
"Interested in... sex." Jin pushes, three seconds from dumping his very expensive drink on the guy.
"NO. Just. In. An... arrangement," the guy manages, with great effort. And as hard as Jin tries to feel the victim here, this guy looks 10 times more victimized than Jin feels.
“An arrangement...” Jin says skeptically.
"Yes, an arrangement," he sighs in relief, like he thinks Jin must him understand now.
"Like... what? You want me to clean your house? Bake you a cake? You're gonna have to be more specific."
“Like I could be... your sugar daddy…?” He says it so quietly that Jin can barely make it out.
“You want to be… my daddy.” Jin can’t help himself. He breaks out into hysterical giggles.
“Y.. your SUGAR… dad- fuck.” The kid looks like he’s about to cry, and Jin feels bad, but he absolutely cannot contain his loud, squeaking laughter. “I knew it, I knew this would happen, SHIT they were right, oh my god I’m going to throw up.”
He really does look ill, potentially on the edge of an anxiety attack. Instantly Jin’s urge to cackle cruelly is overwhelmed by his sense of immense pity.
“Hey, it’s ok. I’m sorry I-“
“I’m such an idiot oh my god I’m such a fucking idiot."
“Oh, okay. Shit. Okay hold on, it's okay, hey let’s just, let’s get some water, yeah?” Jin motions to the bartender for some water.
“I'm sorry, I don’t even want to do this! I didn't even want to come! The guys at work were making fun of me because I’m so-" hic "-so awkward and they said I couldn’t even pick somebody up if I was paying them so they made me come here and were putting bets on me and I saw you and you just have a really kind face, but they were they were right I can’t even- I’m just so awkward and gay and oh god I’m going to die alone I’m going to-“
Jin rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder and accepts the glass of water from the bartender, pressing it into the guy’s hands. “Hey, it’s okay, just have some water.”
The guy accepts the glass silently, chewing intently his lip as he just stares wildly back at Jin. When he makes no move to drink, Jin gently tips the glass up towards his lips, and he reluctantly takes a sip.
Jin sighs hard, massaging his forehead with his hand. “Park. Fucking. Jimin.”
“No, I’m… I'm Jungkook.”
Jin swallows a rogue giggle. “Jungkook. Are your friends here now?”
Jungkook cringes but nods, his wide eyes looking very glassy indeed. “They're behind me, over in that corner.”
Sure enough, there are a few expensively dressed and rowdy young men in the corner, jostling for a better view of what's happening at the bar.
“Okay, Jungkook, listen to me,” Jin says, leaning closer so that to the outside party it would look like they're flirting. “In no timeline, on no plane of existence would I ever agree to be your sugar baby, but I do know what it's like to be awkward and gay, so I will give you a kiss on the cheek and walk away without dumping my drink on your lap like I would do for just about anyone else who propositioned me.”
Jungkook sniffs a little, staring down at his lap. “Thank you. I'm really sorry."
Jin is on the verge of standing up and leaving, but something about Jungkook keeps him anchored in his seat. "How old are you anyway?”
“24.” He looks downright morose about the fact.
Jin rolls his eyes. “Come on, awkward or not, you’re still young, hot, and rich. You’re a catch. You don’t need a sugar baby.”
Jungkooks eyes are like saucers as he stares at Jin. “I.. thanks.. I'm not.. you are...”
“Why are you doing this, anyway?" Jin scoffs, gesturing to the bar around them. "Trying to get a sugar baby?”
The kid takes a deep breath and another sip of water, his bottom lip pouting just the slightest bit. “It’s kind of like... a status symbol at work, I guess. You get to flaunt your money, screw hot people, and be completely emotionally detached. It’s the ultimate ‘you’ve made it.’”
“Where the fuck do you work?”
Jin scoffs viciously, since Namjoon can't be there to do it himself. “Well that explains it. Explains them.” He nods to the group of men in the corner, who are now making lewd gestures at a group of nearby girls.
“Yeah… they’re pretty gross," Jungkook agrees easily. "But I want them to like me. I kinda need them to like me. And I'm the only openly gay one in the office even though I know they suck each other's dicks at fantasy football, so of course I already get shit for that.” He slumps forward onto the bar. “God I don’t want to do this.”
Jin purses his lips. “Well, uh. Hey, I really do feel for you, man. Best of luck,” he says, rising from his seat, sympathetic but ready to be done with this weirdness.
“Wait!” Jungkook begs, clutching onto his sleeve. “Are you sure you don’t… you know…”
Jin very gently, very purposefully peels Jungkook's fingers from his shirt. “Pretty sure I don't want to spend my valuable spare time as your on-call sex toy for a monthly stipend.” He turns to go.
“Wait!" Jungkook calls after him again, the word laced with desperation. "What if it was just pretend??”
Jin raises his eyebrows incredulously. “You want to be my pretend sugar daddy?”
“Yes! We don't actually have to like have sex or go on real dates or anything. Easiest money you'll ever make.”
Jin bites his lip, appraising Jungkook with careful eyes. “Dude, why me? Just find someone who actually wants a sugar daddy.”
“Because I’m scared! And I like you. You’re nice. I stopped wanting to barf like 2 minutes ago.” He tucks his head then and adds, “Also you’re like the hottest person I've ever met."
The corner of Jin's mouth quirks, and he sets down his drink. Praise gives him a better buzz than alcohol anyway. “You think so?”
Jungkooks nods eagerly, eyes exhibiting a cautious hope. “I'd like win the Sugar Baby Olympics." Jin laughs mildly, but Jungkook's brows furrow slightly. "I'm not kidding, that's a real thing. Like a beauty pageant meets jello-wrestling death match."
Jin tilts his head in disbelief. "What the fuck is your life?"
"Believe me, if I'd had any idea what I was signing up for in Business School, I would have dropped out to become a goat farmer." Jungkook looks up at him shyly, and he looks remarkably young, even in his impeccably tailored shirt. "So what do you say?"
The warning bells in Jin's head sound a hell of a lot like Kim Namjoon. “Look. I’m flattered but I really don’t have time for-“
“I'll make it worth your time," Jungkook interrupts him, sensing an opening. "We'll barely even have to hang out. Name your price.”
“Name your price. Whatever you want, it's yours. Here, take this to start,” Jungkook shoves the giant wad of bills in his hand.
Jin's eyes bulge as he shoves the bills right back at Jungkook. “The fuck? That’s… that’s too much. That’s way too much.”
“Then what do you want?”
"You're serious?" Jin asks him, an incredulous tilt to his head. "You really want to do this?"
Jungkook nods eagerly. "I'll do anything. What are your terms?"
Jin thinks hard, mostly just stunned that this is actually happening, but something does come to mind, something that's been concerning him for a while. “Uh… buy my groceries?”
“That’s it?” Jungkook deflates, almost looking a little disappointed.
“If you knew anything about me, you'd know that was a steeper price than you could ever imagine. Take it or leave it.”
“Deal,” Jungkook says, looking like he just won the lottery.
"Great. I go shopping twice a week, and I do buy organic. I also just need you to not make any judgments about me based on the amount of wine and hotdogs I buy."
"Okay," Jungkook says, eyes wider than they were before.
"Now what are your terms?"
"My... My terms. Oh. Right my terms. I usually have work functions a couple of times a month... if you would maybe come to those..."
Jin clicks his tongue and gently grabs Jungkook's shoulders. “Jungkook. Come on. Tell me what you want."
"I guess," Jungkook pauses momentarily to inhale a deep bracing breath, "I would just want you to come to my work events and laugh at my jokes and don't correct people if they imply that we're doing it."
"Having sex, you mean," Jin clarifies gently, and Jungkook's eyes go the widest they've gone yet. If his face was any redder, Jin would insist on taking him to the hospital.
Jungkook clears his throat, obviously trying to play off the strangled, choked sound as a casual cough. "Yes. Doing... sex."
Jin purposefully bites the inside of his cheek hard, desperately fighting the urge to pinch Jungkook's cheek and coo. "Okay. And?"
"Uh, and... send me hot selfies." It's only a fraction of a moment before his eyes bug comically at his own words. "I mean, not for me! To... to show them as proof."
"Okay," Jin agrees easily. "Hot selfies, can do. And?"
"And maybe... if it's not too much trouble... one kiss? In front of them? At some point?" He mumbles the words so low that Jin has to strain to hear them.
"One kiss. No problem." Jin leans forward, catching a whiff of Jungkook's fresh, almost floral cologne. He's close enough to see the devastatingly charming beauty mark right under his bottom lip. "Right now?"
"WHAT?" He jerks backwards in panic, covering his lips and muffling the sound. "No, not... I'm not ready now!"
"Okay, well just give me the word, Captain." Jin leans back with a satisfied smile. "So. What else do we need to do to officially be done with what has been the strangest conversation of my young life?"
"Uh.... you could tell me your name? Maybe."
Jin scoffs dramatically, affecting a look of offense. "Jesus, Jungkook. Deal's off."
"What??" He looks utterly terrified, and Jin actually feels instantly bad for his shitty joke. "Wait, I'm sorry! Does that like... cross some sort of line? Like touching a stripper? I didn't mean t-"
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Jin assures him, patting Jungkook on the shoulder reassuringly. "God you're easy. My name is Jin."
Jungkook actually slumps a bit in relief. "Oh. Jin. Good. Good name. Good name for a good.... face,” he ends lamely.
Jin bites back a fond smile. "So. Is that all?"
Jungkook considers very seriously for a moment. "Yes, that's all. I guess that's a deal?"
Jin reaches forward to extend his hand, which Jungkook tentatively takes. His hand is big and soft and remarkably sweaty. "That's a deal."
"Wow," Jungkook marvels, a dopey disbelieving smile creeping onto his face. "I'm a dad."
"Nope, that's not even a little bit what this means," Jin says as sighs heavily though his nose, peeking around Jungkook to get a glance at his friends, who all look away comically fast when they see him. He rolls his eyes and tugs Jungkook to his feet by the front of his shirt, taking a special pleasure in knowing that he’s wrinkling the extravagantly expensive fabric. He yanks him a little closer so that their chests are almost flush.
"Oh," Jungkook mutters, face absolutely aflame.
“Here’s what's gonna happen," Jin tells him confidently. "I’m going to rotate us so that those little bastards can see my ass. I’ve got a great ass. You’re going to grab my great ass, and I’m gonna melt properly in your arms, maybe tilt my head back and moan a little. I want you to be prepared for that. It’s kind of deadly. Then you’re gonna walk me out of here, throw a smug look over your shoulder like you’re about to give me the dicking of a lifetime, and then we are going straight to that 24 hour grocery store down the street. Got it?”
He whispers the last bit straight into Jungkook's ear, and Jungkook shudders in response. “Got it.”
“And Jungkook?” Jin adds, pulling Jungkook’s hands around to grasp his butt.
“Yeah?” he gulps.
“I am never… calling you daddy.”
After Jungkook’s boner has mostly subsided, they make their dramatic exit, though Jungkook's smug look back at his friends is more of a frightened grimace.
“Did you see the looks on their faces??” Jungkook exclaims, punching the air like a 6-year-old playing Power Rangers. “They never thought I would-… I mean, I guess I technically didn't, but…”
“You did great, sweetie," Jin tells him with a doting pat on his head. Jungkook swerves out of the way, smoothing his hair and smiling shyly. "Successfully fake propositioned your first fake sugar baby. The first of many, I'm sure.” Jin scoffs. “God you have a weird job."
“It's okay, I'm going to retire at like 30 and buy a baseball team," Jungkook tells him happily, and Jin is pleased to see the relaxed set of his shoulders now that they're out of that place.
“Are those guys actually your friends?” Jin asks, scowling a little disdainfully over his shoulder, back towards the bar.
“No, I hate them. That's why I need to win,” Jungkook declares, and his eyes darken with the intensity of his determination. “They're actually my subordinates but they’re all older than me and really bitter about it.”
Jin shoots him a skeptical look. “You some kind of genius or something?”
He shrugs, hands jammed casually into his pockets. “Or something. I improved on a really lucrative risk/reward formula for my senior thesis.”
“Damn…” Jin mumbles as they stroll up to the entrance of the grocery store, which is not nearly as deserted as Jin had thought it would be at 11pm on a Friday.
“What do you do?” Jungkook asks politely.
Jin takes a deep, satisfied breath as they step through the automatic doors, the cold blast of air from inside hitting his face, along with the delightful scent of fresh bread from the bakery.
He grabs a cart and floats forward on a cloud of air, hopping his feet up onto the cart and rolling directly towards the bakery section, as is always his first inclination. He hears Jungkook shuffling behind him to catch up. "What?"
Jin ignores him, promptly loading three loaves of French bread into his cart.
"Hey, what do you mean you eat?"
Jin takes a deep whiff of the bread, sighing contentedly. "I'm a competitive eater."
Jin beams proudly. "Two-time qualifier, one time runner-up at the National Hot Dog Eating contest."
"You can make money doing that?" Jungkook asks, staring at Jin with fascination and admiration.
"If you're really good, kind of. I actually work a million other little jobs to pay the bills, but now that I have a pre-pubescent fake sugar daddy, I can cut back on how many shifts I have to work and train full time. So be a dear and go grab another cart and 17 packs of hotdogs." Jungkook moves quickly to obey, but Jin grabs his arm to stop him, smiling in realization, then satisfaction. "You know what? Make those Kosher."
As they stroll up and down each and every isle of the store at an excruciatingly slow pace, Jungkook seems fascinated rather than dismayed by the amount of food in Jin's carts.
"This is honestly the coolest way any sugar baby has ever spent money," he marvels as Jin loads several heads of cabbage into the cart.
"Even the off-season gets expensive," Jin tells him, trying not to preen too obviously. "You have to keep yourself in good condition, jaw muscles active, stomach expanded, all that good stuff. Which honestly, I don’t mind. I love to eat."
When they make it to the meat section, Jin finds himself eyeing some of those expensive, delicious, marbled cuts that he usually saves for birthdays and celebrations. He cuts a look at Jungkook, who just continues to stare at him without concern, large eyes blinking at him benignly. Jin cautiously reaches a hand forward, grabs one of the packets of meat, trying not to be staggered at the price tag, then cuts another glance at Jungkook, who smiles a little.
Encouraged, he quickly plops the package into his already overflowing cart, then feeling lucky, reaches up tentatively once more, fingertips stopping just short of the plastic-wrapped tray. Another anxious glance at Jungkook, who gives him a little nod, and he quickly tosses, one, two, three more packages of meat into the cart.
"This is fun," Jungkook says.
"You're telling me."
At the checkout line, Jungkook proudly presents his sleek black card to the slack-jawed cashier as the total tops $700.
"I'll have a car come pick you up and bring you back to your place with all of this," Jungkook says, whipping out his phone, "Babe," he adds with an impish smile.
Jin rolls his eyes as he loads several bags onto his arms. "You're loving this a little too much for someone who not 2 hours ago said 'doing sex' unironically."
Jungkook pouts, scuffing his shoe against the floor. "Just trying to get into my Daddy headspace."
Jin tilts his head, blinking slowly in disbelief. "Go home. Go ruminate on the fact that you got a boner at the mere suggestion of touching my ass.”
Jungkook almost looks a little proud as he swaggers backwards a few steps. "I'll call you?"
"Hey hotshot," Jin calls after him just as Jungkook spins around to walk away properly. "Good luck calling me without my fucking number."
Jungkook stares at him blankly for a moment before he's stumbling over his own feet back towards Jin.
"Nope," Jin scolds, smacking Jimin's grasping hand away with a wooden spoon. "Cake batter is for friends. Namjoon, come lick the beater."
Namjoon skips up happily as Jimin groans. "I said I was sorry. How much longer are you gonna punish me?"
"Until you tell me the truth."
Namjoon daintily licks the beater, face spasming in disgust as he chucks the beater into the metal mixing bowl. He looks like he's swallowing a gag. "This is repulsive." He glances around the kitchen, eyes landing on a white container. He swallows another gag. "Did you use mayonnaise instead of Crisco?"
"I am a culinary disaster, which you knew well before you put that shit in your mouth," Jin snaps before rounding on Jimin again.
"I DID tell you the truth!" Jimin insists desperately. "I really did get mugged! I couldn't text you because they stole my phone! Look at my wounds!" He yanks aside his shirt and points to the bruises on his neck and chest.
"Those are hickeys, you sweaty ballsack. You left me to fend for myself in the middle of a den of wrinkly, impotent wolves!"
Jimin elbows Namjoon out of the way, grasping at Jin's sleeve. "I'm sorryyyyyy. In my defense, I did make it to the bar, I just... did not make it inside the bar."
Jin gapes at him. "Did you have dumpster sex behind the building?"
Jimin releases his sleeve, slinging his arm away. "Don't call it that. We were by a dumpster, not in a dumpster. There is a difference."
"I just want to remind you that this is not the first time that you've been late to something because of dumpster sex," Namjoon says thickly as he tentatively picks up the beater again.
"Stop calling it that!"
"What was this place anyway?" Namjoon continues, twirling the beater to a fresh side and taking another tentative lick. He gags fully this time.
"It was some hoity toity bar where sugar babies go to meet sugar daddies," Jin says distastefully.
"Ew," Namjoon shudders, and Jin can't tell if it's a reaction to the batter or the news.
"'Ew' what?!" Jimin exclaims, puffing up his chest defiantly.
"'Ew' old rich dudes capitalizing on socioeconomic disparities to take advantage of young hot people who would be massively out of their league otherwise."
"Hey, I have met some quality people at that bar," Jimin defends himself, surreptitiously reaching for a beater. Jin smacks his hand away.
"What, like dumpster dude?" Jin scoffs, picking up the bowl to pour his batter into a shallow cake pan.
"Don't make me regret sharing my life experiences with you," Jimin says, his small, rectangular eyebrows knit. "And that guy was the best lay of my life, thank you. I can't believe I lost my phone and thus his number." He looks genuinely bothered for a moment before he shifts his gaze to Jin. "Anyway, did you meet anybody?"
"You know, you're a real pain in the ass," Jin groans, shifting the cake pan to spread the batter as evenly as the large, disconcerting chunks will allow. "I told you I did not want to meet anybody. I'm taking a break from men. Focusing on my career. I hear some of the big brands are actually considering sponsorship this year for competitive eaters, and you know how big of a deal that is for them to even consider. No distractions. No men."
"The problem isn't men in general," Jimin tells him, folding his hands primly in front of him. "The problem is the men you date. Where did you meet that last loser again?”
“Excuse you. At the Met Gala,” Jin answers coolly.
Jimin snorted. “Where he snuck in through the kitchen to stalk Lady Gaga and was forcibly removed and arrested. He lost you that job.”
“He was the only person that night to appreciate my fucking cream puffs!"
"Your cream puffs are awful," Jimin informs him with a fake, sympathetic smile.
"Which just goes to show how much he cared," JIn says primly, wiping his hands gracelessly on his pants.
“He opened up three credit cards and a signed a mortgage under your name.”
“What can I say? He had great taste in both baked goods and stolen identities."
“Whatever," Jimin rolls his eyes, but then he cocks his head curiously. "Hold on. You didn't actually answer the question. Did you meet anybody?"
Namjoon chokes on a chunk of batter, which he continues to eat despite his mild look of disgust. "Haven't you been listening to him? Of course he didn't meet anyone. Jin would never-"
Jimin shushes him abruptly, picking up on the tense atmosphere, the stiffness of Jin's shoulders as he hunches over the cake pan. "He did. You did! He did he fucking did!" He hops gleefully from foot to foot, grasping onto Jin's sleeve once more, cheering. "I knew you would, you sly, beautiful bastard! What's he like?"
Jin shakes him off again, huffing as he turns back to his cake batter. "Shut up. I didn't meet somebody meet somebody, I just... met somebody."
"What does that even meaaaan?" Jimin says, throwing himself back dramatically on the countertop and mashing his elbow into a stick of butter. "You either met somebody or you didn't. Who is he?"
Jin sighs in exasperation, sliding the cake pan moodily away. "A 24-year-old probable virgin who can't say the word 'sex' without blushing and who promised to buy my groceries if I would pretend sugar baby so his work friends think he's cool."
Jimin straightens up, the giant clump of butter still clinging to his shirt. "Well that's not what I had in mind." He sounds obviously disappointed.
Namjoon scrapes the mostly empty batter bowl with one finger. "Groceries? Just groceries?"
Jin shrugs. "He already dropped like $700 in one trip."
"Seriously?" Namjoon balks. "Only you could do that kind of damage at the fucking grocery store."
"Is he cute?" Jimin asks, trying to steer the conversation back.
Jin shrugs again. "I guess. In a terrified Girl Scout trying to sell cookies to her scary elderly neighbor sort of way."
“Well you are terrifying and elderly,” Jimin allows before tugging his phone out of his extremely tight back pocket. "So do you like him like him?"
"That's not what this is about," Jin says, exasperated. "This is about funding my training and having more time to prepare for nationals because I don't have to work a bunch of shitty jobs to afford it. Okay? This is going to be a turning point. I'm not letting shitty relationships hinder my personal growth and ambitions. Not anymore."
Namjoon beams, almost letting the bowl slip from his hands in shock. "That's excellent, Jin. Very mature and self-aware of you."
"I mean, you're definitely gonna bang," Jimin informs him simply, peeking moodily into the empty batter bowl.
"You're sure about this?" Namjoon asks cautiously then, setting down the bowl on the countertop. "I'm all here for you being able to fund your training, but you know how I hate what money does to power dynamics."
"Yes I do," Jin replies dutifully. "But believe me. He is nothing to worry about, he's harmless. And if he does become something to worry about, I'll drop him. Easy as that.
"I wanna Google him," Jimin cuts in gleefully. "What's his name?"
"Jeon Jungkook?" Jin says casually, like he just happened to remember it.
"Jeon. Jung. Kook," Jimin says slowly as he punches the letters into his phone. "Holy shit you're definitely gonna bang. I am... I'm not seeing this Girl Scout of whom you speak."
"What? Let me see," Jin insists far too quickly, wiping his hands on his apron and grabbing Jimin's phone.
It looks like a magazine photoshoot. "Hottest Bachelors of 2017," the article claims in bold letters across the top of the page. Jin scrolls down to the picture, where Jungkook is posing on a chair, legs sprawled casually, thick thighs straining against his trousers. His hair is combed up off his forehead, dark eyebrows slashing down harshly on his otherwise smooth face. His gaze is slightly unsettling to Jin, who has only ever really seen those eyes in full saucer-state.
"This is him, right?" Jimin asks, resting his chin on Jin's shoulder.
"I... think so?"
"Damn," Jimin breathes. "Does he have any friends?"
Jin abruptly turns off the screen and shoves the phone back into Jimin's hands. "You've made your dumpster. Now lie in it."
Unknown: it's me
Unknown: ur daddy.
Me: oh my god it's been... twenty years?
Me: how did you get this number?
Kid: wait what
Me: i haven't seen you since you walked out on mom
Me: how was prison you sick son of a bitch
Kid: whoa wait
Kid: um this is jungkook
Kid: shit i'm sorry... i didn't.....
Kid: this is jungkook from the bar
Me: I know.
Me: that was pretty good though right
Me: using my real-life childhood trauma for my own personal amusement?
Kid: holy. shit. you dick
Kid: I'm leaving
Me: noooo don't be the second dad to abandon me
Kid: what is wrong with you
Me: maybe you should not talk that way to your employee
Me: I could unionize
Kid: are you on drugs
Me: it's medicinal
Me: what do you want anyway?
Me: you need a nude or something?
Kid: I mean. maybe.
Kid: i just need something to show my coworkers because they're getting suspicious that we haven't hung out
Kid: it doesn't have to have your dick in it
Me: you can just tell me you want to see my dick, it's fine
Me: [ img ]
[ img ]
[ img ]
Kid: thank you
Kid: uh you look really nice
Kid: so does your.... erect penis
Kid: you sent that really fast
Kid: are you.... right now ....
Me: pump those brakes kiddo
Kid: um hey so I have a work function this wknd
Kid: it’s a lame formal dinner
Kid: can you make it? saturday @ 8
Me: should I wear a suit?
Kid: yes but probably not one of your suits
Kid: no offense
Me: um some taken
Kid: I'm supposed to be lavishing you with luxury gifts, remember?
Kid: I don't want them to know that all I've bought you so far is 150 packs of kosher hotdogs
Me: .... fair
Kid: go pick something out at armani and I'll send my card information ahead to them
Me: come on. Do I look like an armani kind of guy
Kid: d&g ?
Me: wow money really doesn't buy you taste does it
Kid: fine. tom ford?
Kid: you're such a snob for a peasant
Kid: I'm a little hard