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I've Got A Renegade Heart (And It's Screaming His Name)

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Patches of blue peep from where the clouds have met and piled near the window facing west, the faint ticking of the clock being a faraway string attached to reality.

The lady at the reception chews at the back of her pencil idly, admiring her nail paint. There's a faint tap on the desk.

"Welcome to the Seoul Academy of Taekwondo. How may I help you?", she speaks up in a manner that's involuntary, offering her attention to the two men standing in front of her.

Namjoon smiles politely, "Hello. I'd like to know the procedure for registration."

She immediately turns to the computer screen, nodding, "Yes sir. Your name?"

"Park Jimin", a shorter male blurts, and almost apologizes, "Ah actually I'm the one registering."

"It's fine. Beginner classes?", she looks up at him. Jimin offers a binder, "No, I've been transferred here from the Busan Institute. I'll be signing up for the black belt classes."

She takes the blue file and flips through the scans of certificates and awards. She nods. "Oh alright. There are classes available for seniors on weekends."

Namjoon interjects, "Actually, we'd like to go for the best instructor here. I've heard they've hired a gold medalist."

"Ah!", she laughs, "Of course, of course. He is very picky about his students but I am sure he wouldn't mind a rank holder from Busan. It's his hometown too, after all."

Jimin shares a glance with Namjoon. Namjoon proceeds to talk to her about the payments and timings while Jimin takes a stroll of the lounge room. There are floor to ceiling windows and the park with the artificial fountain is visible from the inside. He's trapped between four walls of glass yet he could feel the cool breeze that might be blowing outside, rustling leaves and swaying flowers. It's a scenic location and Jimin almost doesn't miss home too much.

"Excuse me, you can start your classes today if you want", the lady beckons from the desk and Jimin hurries over, nodding. "He'll provide you with your uniform and show you the room. The instructor should arrive in an hour." Jimin follows the helper who's been standing there, waving Namjoon goodbye. He walks into the elevator and is led to the seventh floor.

There are a number of rooms and he could see from the glass panel the full-fledged activities going on in each. He is taken to the boy's locker and then offered a few sets of uniform, and he comes out wearing the one that fits.

His classes were the last of the evening and he could already see the purplish-blue tendrils of the sky envelop the sun, seeking out the stars that had remained impatient and hidden all day. He walks into the room at the end of the corridor. It's rather large and rather empty, with only about four more boys. Every movement stops though, on his arrival, and he uses this span of attention, "Hello, I'm Park Jimin. Nice to meet you."

A tall lanky boy walks up to him wearing a full smile, face glistening with little beads of sweat. "Hello, Jimin. I'm Hoseok. We look forward to getting to know you. But why dont you go warm up for now?"

"Yes", Jimin walks towards the back of the room where another boy, short and lithe, somewhat like his own frame, was stretching and exercising. Jimin joins him, throwing himself into the known routine. He notices Jimin but chooses to keep quiet and Jimin doesn't seem to have a problem with that. The lesser the distraction, the better.

Time ticks away and the door swings open, a tall and broad boy walking into the class. He seemingly emulated a striking presence, and by the way an eerie hush envelopes the room- Jimin could roughly guess it's their instructor.

Rumours were true about the looks, Jimin backtracks inwardly, for if he wasn't in a Taekwondo uniform Jimin could possibly imagine him walking down a runway.

Sharp jaw, dark eyes, and the stereotypical alpha male stench that clung to him like a tapering creeper. 

Everybody bows and Jimin stands hidden somewhere behind Hoseok and another broad-shouldered boy.

"I heard we've got a new trainee joining us", he beams and his lips tug into a fond smile, "Could you please introduce yourself?"

Jimin leaves his refuge unsurely, walking up to the front and exchanging courtesies.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook and I expect great things from you this term." Jimin feels both the professionalism and the passion in his voice, the biting feeling of imploration too.

And Jimin is not exactly the best when it comes to handling pressure.

Sparring session starts soon and there's individual practice at first. Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, pointing out and correcting every slacking movement that comes to sight. He's critical and he's curt- he knows what to aim for and how to achieve it.

His gaze soon falls on Jimin and he takes this time to actually observe him.

The shirt that wraps and ties around his waist is actually loose near his shoulders. He could be passed off as lean and petite but at the same time, one could trace the strong muscles of his back underneath the fabric. Jungkook notices his movements follow more precision than strength, that he delivers each hit with calculated power.

What brings his precision to more prominence is the control he has over his body, how he tips over but regains balance on his toes.

A reflex, suspiciously, someone with an inclination towards ballet would have.

"Alright everybody. Team up", Jungkook claps his hand once and the helter-skelter boys turn to face each other. The four pair up in twos, and an out of place Jimin looks around when abandoned.

"You", Jungkook points to him and then to the space in front, "Come here."

Jimin obeys and comes to stand in front of him. The height doesn't differ greatly, but yet is enough to be evident. Jimin takes his time to look up at the other, eyes clear and focused.

Jungkook grabs Jimin's upper arms, "Fighting stance." Jimin straightens at the command, puffing his chest out a little. Jungkook then presses his hands onto his waist and nudges him to follow. Jimin repeats but his grip isn't as tight as it should be. Jungkook gives his waist a warning press, "We'll try out a roundhouse kick to ground the opponent." He positions himself so his back thrusts outward and his face leans inward. "Pivot, snap, land."

There's a quick countdown and immediately after, there are thuds on the ground. The stronger opponents sit on top of the more imbalanced ones triumphantly.

Jungkook, however, keeps staring at Jimin who's now under him.

He's pinned to the mat, Jungkook's legs on either side of his stomach. He's writhing, a faint tint that creeps up to his face when it gets hard to breathe. Jungkook's grip is not that tight but Jimin did not retaliate in any form. He was scooped up and slumped down and Jungkook didn't even invest the energy that he thought he might have to. He eyes Jimin in a way that descends both curiosity and reprimand, "Why didn't you deflect? It's a basic attack."

Jimin keeps quiet and Jungkook already bears this abject distrust in his seemingly pure face. He weighs down on him and Jimin squeaks under the pressure.

"I think I'm asking you something", Jungkook is vocal about his anger, voice thick in warning, but Jimin befriends silence.

Jungkook hovers over his frame for a few seconds more before standing up. "Class dismissed."

Hushed whispers and dragging footsteps fade outside the door. Jimin brushes his uniform and stands up. He walks to the door but there's a firm hand latching around his elbow, "Not for you."

Jungkook pulls a surprised Jimin to the centre. He holds his gaze, jaws clenched, "Stance."

Jimin follows and Jungkook eyes his posture. He reaches to lift his chin, push his chest inward and lower his arm a little.

"Pivot, hook, ground."

Jimin's leg comes dashing through and Jungkook grabs his calf and gives it a solid pull. Jimin falls on his back and Jungkook pins him down again, muffling a growl. "Inattentive."

It keeps going and Jungkook throws Jimin down everytime. Jungkook changes stance and even manages to pin him to the wall after blocking a strike. Jimin kept missing commands and his back ached from the manhandling. Jungkook had his wrists in his grip, body struggling to free itself.

Jimin is panting and clearly out of breath but Jungkook traps him in a tight press against the wall. He notices how small Jimin's hands were under his grip and how red his neck was from the exhaustion. Jungkook keeps yelling and keeps trying get a rise out of him but Jimin just avoids eye contact, fluxing air with an open mouth.

Jungkook lets go of him and Jimin crouches at the lack of support. Jungkook is figuratively a ball of fire, fuming and uncontrolled.

"I'll tell you one last time. Fight or quit. If I were you I'd make the better choice and not show up again."

Jungkook leaves and Jimin rests a hand over his chest.

Breathe in breathe out. Breathe in breathe out. Breatheinbreatheout. 


Jeon Jungkook is a man of many capabilities and one of them is to unnerve even the steel-hearted.

It comes at an obvious shock when Park Jimin shows up the next weekend too, soft hair falling across his forehead and carved, built legs throwing kicks in the air. He moves almost too gracefully, and that goes against Jungkook's general liking.

Jungkook feels his blood boil, unsettled how Jimin did not take heed of the note and just left. Jungkook had already spent the whole week pondering upon someone he has barely anything to be concerned about but he just could not fathom how adamant Jimin is.

Jimin feels Jungkook's fiery gaze prickle his skin, skin rippling with cold sweat. He continues to practice and kicks the paddles fervently. Taehyung looks at his discolouring face worriedly, offering a towel when Jimin takes a break. Jimin looks up at Taehyung and pulls a tight-lipped smile.

"Don't let his perfectionism get to you. He's young and he gets riled up quick. Sure he's going to make things hard for you but you should keep trying anyway", Taehyung had hummed from the shower booth next to Jimin's sometime the previous week.

Jimin could foresee things worsening and it was no better for Jungkook. He called the boy out in every class henceforth, tackling and pinning him down until falling on the mat under him felt like homecoming.

Somedays he would press onto his waist harder, somedays he would yell and command, and somedays he would make him stay back. Weak, Jungkook condescends him in his mind. Doesn't know the difference between being ambitious and being stubborn.

But in truth, if anything, Jimin was just as good at being determined.

He's in the front and everybody's struggling. Star trainee Seokjin has Hoseok mashed to the ground and a grovelling Taehyung manages to ground Yoongi after a negotiable struggle.

Jungkook stares directly at Jimin, who in turn keeps averting his gaze today.

Jungkook sighs at his opponent's impertinent demeanour, "Look at me, Jimin. You won't be able to tackle the attack."

Jimin tries to keep his eyes on Jungkook but it flickers away soon. Jungkook is at his edge and he blatantly tugs at Jimin by the waist, towering above him and watching him squirm in his grasp. Jungkook tries to still him but a petulant Jimin keeps prying himself away. "What are y-"

He barely chokes it out when Jungkook yells, "Look at me!"

Jimin yelps and jumps in surprise, curling in on himself in a defensive measure. Jungkook's hands never leave Jimin and he takes the ill-prepared latter to throw him onto the mat again, landing atop him and locking his wrists down. Jungkook's expression is livid and Jimin's chest rises and falls in a nervous metronome.

There's abrupt silence and then feets scramble up. Jimin stares at Jungkook with wide eyes, how his hair is swept to the sides and his lips are parted, brows furrowed and the vein of his neck throbbing visibly. He looks pissed off and Jimin is pretty sure Jungkook could feel his stomach tense under his gaze.

The more he writhes the more Jungkook shifts his weight towards his lower stomach, leaning over and staring him down. Jimin could almost feel Jungkook's breath on his face and on seeing him struggle desperately, Hoseok and Taehyung forcibly pull Jungkook up.

"Enough now! God, what's wrong with you- you're hurting Jimin!"


 

The air is taut and the room silences. Last rays of the sun settle into the dark arms of dusk and the moon peeks ever so slightly in homecoming.

Jungkook lets the water run down his cheeks and then his chest, relaxing the constricted muscles of his abdomen. The vapour of the warm water surrounds him in a foglike cocoon and he fumbles around for the bottle of bath gel. He cards a hand through his hair, brushing it back and wiping the running water off of his face with his palms, opening his eyes wider and searching for the bottle. The stand is empty and he groans because he forgot to bring it with him again. It's a pain bathing in shower stalls because carrying your own soap is almost a burden than a luxury.

There's a faint click in the stall next to his, the follow-up sound of the shower and soon, a soothing hum that drowns with the water. Jungkook sighs, knocking on the wall between the two stalls and raising his voice over the water, "Hey, got any extra gel?"

There's absolute silence for a moment and Jungkook was almost beginning to think he went unheard when a bottle peeps from over the wall. Jungkook reached out to grab it but the hand let go and it fell right on his head, sliding down to the floor.

"Wha- ouch!"

Jungkook rubbed the top of his head, groaning and crouching to grab the bottle and he almost hears a chuckle.

He lathers and rinses, and not bothering to repeat, walks out drying himself. He wraps the towel around his waist, pacing the extended expanse of the shower area with the bottle in hand. The other stall clicks open and Jungkook whips his head around to see.

Jimin emerges with a towel around his waist too, a white shirt and barely dried strands of hair falling across his forehead. He had a healthy blush spread across his face post the warm shower, a soft primrose scent that- Jungkook emitted as well now.

Jungkook looks at his hand and then at Jimin. His gaze is lost somewhere between the boy and bottle, thoughts swirling in space, and he doesn't even notice Jimin trying to take it from his hand.

Jungkook unintentionally keeps moving his hand and Jimin keeps following it around for the sake of his damned bottle. Jimin clicks his tongue in annoyance and enfolds his fingers around Jungkook's biceps to still his hand.

Slave of reflexes, an off-guard Jungkook is surprised by the sudden hold and ends up tackling Jimin by the arm, taking longer steps on the cold and slippery marble until Jimin trips and his back hits the wall. "Jungkook-!"

It's only when Jungkook realizes what he had done and what position they now stand in that he actually looks at the other. Jimin doesn't struggle or writhe but inhales laboured breaths, like Jungkook's presence somehow suffocates him everytime; strains him of proper functionality.

Jungkook has this sudden urge to close the distance and it results in Jimin placing a hand over his bare chest, ignoring eye contact but putting no force into his protest either.

Jimin's fingers felt like fire against Jungkook's skin- and he could feel his ribs turning to ashes, smoulder and burn under the touch. 

Trouble, Jungkook reminds himself, he's trouble to you.

The hand over Jimin's upper arm slides down to his waist and rests there. Jimin's gaze that was craned towards the other side finally meets Jungkook's firm one, dark eyes that search the other's face in scrutiny.

But Jungkook soon sees Jimin recoil his hand, and reach for his head instead- settling a small tap.

"Ow fuck, that's still sore!", Jungkook let's go of him immediately, groaning at the inflicted pain.

Jimin laughs through his nose, covering his mouth almost immediately when Jungkook darts a murderous glare towards him.

Jungkook throws the bottle on the basin counter and this time when he gets hold of Park Jimin, he makes sure he's gripped on tight.

He's pinned him down and up against walls enough in the past classes to memorize the soft rose of his scent and the subtle carves of his face, the swell of his lips and the shadow of his lashes. He has a hand secured around his waist, the other on the cold wall and the way Jimin has his head tilted, a soft graceful poise as glittering and curious eyes settle over his face apprehensively- Jungkook almost feels the ominous precedence of a feeling warm and unfamiliar settle in him. 

Jimin looks up at the little bump on Jungkook's head, pursing his lips to repress a chuckle. Jungkook catches this and lowers his voice, not sure if he's angry or aroused, "So you think that's funny, huh?"

Jimin snags a lip between his teeth, looking up at him in more awe than fright. The dim bathroom lighting shone bare on his handsome features, somewhat in contrast to the ever-burning fire in his eyes that Jungkook wanted to douse, see it quench underneath him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Jungkook stills when he hears the words, insinuating his already jumbled headspace. He hates what Jimin does to him. It's almost like Jimin is a mystery, a seemingly open book but with innumerable pages sealed shut.

Jungkook lets go of the wall and touches Jimin's face with the pad of his fingers, tracing lines from his cheek to his chin. A bold move, really, but Jimin stares back at him wordlessly, doesn't try move.

There's this bond between silence and Jimin that Jungkook can't intervene in. Jungkook provokes and Jimin endures, and there's something about his stubbornness that always gets a rise out of the former. It's almost a fight he puts up to prove his resilience, and Jungkook is hell-bent to show him he's just weak.

Jungkook traces a small circle on his cheek, breathing out words, "I don't know what goes on in your head." Jungkook drags his thumb lower, close enough to his lips without actually touching them. His skin his soft under his fingers, a little moist too from the settling vapour and steam, "What kind of a game are you playing Jimin, hm?"

Jungkook's gaze falls on his lips; plump, luscious and intoxicating. He presses himself closer to him and it cuts the air between them, with Jimin jerking his head back and breathing with an open mouth. He's flushed and his hands come to rest over Jungkook's chest again, only this time he's pushing. "I- I don't know what you're talking about."

On another day, really, Jungkook would've let him test his strength but it's no longer about winning now.

Jungkook adds pressure to his hold around his waist, forcing a squeak out of Jimin. His eyes course along how his throat is exposed to him, the column of his neck that slopes down to his collarbones, and he's so tempted to trace a stripe with his tongue and take a bite.

"You're getting on my nerves, Park Jimin. That's not very nice of you."

Jimin opens his mouth but Taehyung walks in, gasping immediately when he watches the scene unfold.

"Jimin! What's going on?"

Jungkook could feel Jimin's hands pushing harder, a new kind of retaliation he's never faced with him before. Jungkook doesn't loosen his grip, neither does he tear his eyes off the boy in front of him. Jimin's face wears various shades of crimson, stutters and stammers that are only half-audible. Jungkook could hear footfalls that arrive close, the hands over his chest clawing at the skin.

Jimin was trying to evade Jungkook for the first time, and that enthralled Jungkook to no end.

Taehyung pries his fingers between Jungkook's hand and Jimin's waist, trying to pull the two apart, "Let go."

Jungkook snarls almost impatiently, hulking the grip and refusing, "You should let go."

Taehyung grasps Jimin's arm and Jungkook doesn't know why his blood runs hot. He wants to deck Taehyung but he's in a compromising posture with Jimin.

Taehyung looks at Jungkook is mild disbelief and part disgust, "Let go of him, Jeon Jungkook. He's clearly uncomfortable."

Jungkook looks at Jimin who's now a flustered mush, docile in his arms yet nervous in his gaze. He considers that for a moment, retraces his hands from his waist to his arms and propping his chin up.

"Are you", Jungkook cocks a brow, stopping to stare at various points between his lips and his eyes, "Uncomfortable?"

The clawing at his chest stops and the hands fall from there. Jungkook's skin gets chilled at the exposure to air, a bit red from the blunt rake of nails that stay behind.

Jimin looks at him, the kind of fueling adamancy that he knows is going to ruin him. "No, I'm- not."

Jungkook drops his hand, taking a step back.

Jimin is a trap and he's falling into it, steadily and surely. Jimin is harmful; he's mysterious and he's tenacious- he's got him hooked like a fish in bait and he's reeling him in.

He swallows thickly, lets go of Jimin and walks out with a frustrated hand threading through his hair.

Fuck this. 


 

The given obviousness of the situation does not dissipate in the weeks that follow when Jungkook not only accidentally, but actively seeks Jimin out- no longer a fight of strength but that of decision and want.

There's something different about pinning Jimin down now, like it's an assertion of possession. He should've backed out when there was time but now Jimin has poured gasoline over Jungkook's fire.

And it doesn't help when Jimin is always the first to arrive and last to leave, cheeks always roseate when he's writhing under the younger's grip. He talks louder when he's not in Jungkook's span of attention and drawls his sugary words to Taehyung just to see that one vein throb near Jungkook's neck. There's chaos in Jungkook's calm and it's undeniably explicit even though it was never meant to be. And every stare that lasts longer, every time Jimin moves at his command, Jungkook has to begrudgingly admit Jimin might just not be as weak as he pretends to be.

The instructors circle around the table, speaking algorithm and evaluation that is rendered useless by Jungkook's lack of interest.

He's looking at his binder, and then at the back of his hand where Jimin had clawed the other week.

There are little marks all over him these days. Jimin has recently started to protest against Jungkook's advances and things could not get any more bemusing for Jungkook. He grips his hands or claws at his skin, every little touch would leave him breathless and Jungkook has only just discovered, Jimin looks magnificent when he's desperate.

"Jungkook-sshi?", the chairman breaks him out of his trance, tapping a pen loudly on the table. Jungkook snaps his attention back at him, nodding."Ah- yes?"

"I don't mean this negatively, but I've heard there's a problem in your class. Park Jimin, if the reports state correctly?"

Jungkook looks at his own binder, performance evaluations written in all green except one that's blotched in red.

"Yes."

There are a lot of whispers and no one even bothers if they're coherent or not. Jeon Jungkook is a model instructor, there are no failures in his trainee records. Incapable ones are thrown out and slightly lacking ones catch up once Jungkook shows them the consequences of infuriating him. Jimin's case, however, remains debatable as well as exceptional- a pivotal change to his training history. Defamation comes easy in this profession, and Jungkook could already feel gossip brewing behind his back.

"He is a red belt- that too with a stunning record. I wonder where we are going wrong", the chairman says. 

You're not capable of your job, is what he directs to Jungkook under the lines.

"I understand. Please give me some time and I'll look into this", Jungkook stands up, bowing to take his leave, "My class is about to begin. So if you'll excuse me."

Jungkook sighs as he walks down the quiet corridor, lazy footsteps that reach the end room. It's drizzling outside and the weather's sultry- Jungkook is hot and bothered and lacking logic in a temperature so oppressive. Jimin is the first bump in his career and he is not pleased.

His hand curls around the doorknob and he peers from the square glass panel to see Jimin alone in the class, talking over his phone and trying to tie his undid uniform shirt with just one hand. Jungkook walks in and throws his binder to a side with only one intention in his line of sight. Jimin hears the noise and had barely turned around to face a fuming, predatory Jungkook. "Namjoon I'll-"

Jungkook takes the phone and lands it atop Jimin's duffle bag. He walks him back to the wall, slamming him against it with his face towards the cold plaster. His chest is pressed flush against Jimin's back, one hand that holds his wrists together in front and another that finds it's allocated place on his hips. Jimin shirt is only half done and Jungkook could peer down at the carve of his chest, rising and falling unevenly. He was breathing into his neck, and Jimin was fighting to free his wrists. "What the fuck are y-"

"I kept thinking about you in the meeting."

Jimin halts in surprise, scratching the side of Jungkook palms with his nails and mumbling, "But- is that my fault?"

"Isn't it? When you have no right to do that to me", Jungkook whispers and Jimin almost whines. "God, Jungkook what-"

He lets go of his wrists and Jimin starts clawing at Jungkook's neck for leverage, arching his back and inadvertently letting Jungkook slip a hand under the slit of his shirt. Jimin bites his lips when Jungkook touches his soft stomach under the pads of his fingers, feeling the skin and tracing circles. Jimin's breath hitches against his will, "Then throw me out if that bothers you so much, Jeon Jungkook."

"You're doing this on purpose."

"You don't know anything!", Jimin almost growls, making Jungkook's adrenaline go haywire, "Let go of me."

"I will, once you stop disappointing me."

Jimin sinks a nail deeper near Jungkook pulse point, pressing himself further into Jungkook's grip, "I c-can't."

"Tell me what's your problem."

"Can't."

"Fuck, you're too goddamn attractive to be this much of a headache", Jungkook pulls at his waist and his ass grazes against his crotch. Jungkook's hard just at the thought of Jimin and it does not help when Jimin lets out a faint gasp at that. "Jungkook-"

He all but growls, "You failed the evaluations too, Jimin. You don't listen to anything, you've got my job on thin ice and you underestimate of what I can put you through. Tell me, what do I do with you?"

Jimin throws his head back over Jungkook's shoulder, staring at him through the corner of his eye. The mole under Jungkook's lip has always so tempting to him, so is the slant of his jaw and the curved upper lip.

Jungkook looks at the faint flush dust Jimin's cheek, the plush lips that are swollen from biting down too hard. The hand under Jimin's shirt comes to cup his throat and Jimin perks up his ass, moving his hips over his crotch.

Jungkook hisses at the brazen move, cursing under his breath, "Don't tempt me, Park Jimin, it won't end well."

"Then let it not."

"Brat", he presses his pulsing erection between the slot of his ass. Jimin gasps at how big he feels against him, clutching onto his nape tighter to not lose balance. Jungkook chuckles hoarsely at how needily the other grinds over his clothes, a puerile yet misleading face that Jungkook has learnt to look past, "You really wanna play this game huh?"

Jimin drawls, smug yet keening, "It's not a game when you've already lost."

Jungkook nearly laughs.

"But you're here and your report's in my hand, the chairman's still outside and the ball's in my court", he slips a hand down to the curve of Jimin's ass, palming the soft flesh and snorting at how messy Jimin's moans were getting, "I could throw you down so many ranks that you'd be back to counting jumping jacks with the kids, baby."

"You piece of fuck-"

Jimin doesn't get to finish his comment on that because Jungkook's taken control of the whole situation. Jimin is pliant in his hands and Jungkook takes it to be silent feat. Jimin ushers quick, before the tightness in the air reverts to normality, "What- what do you want me to do?"

"Listen to whatever I say."

"What if I don't?"

 Jimin's body bends under the younger's dextrous commands- and Jungkook finds him breathtaking, relishing an awed sigh, "Then god, the things I'll do to ruin you." 

Jimin groans, bowing his back and tilting his head to bare where Jungkook's mouth ghosted over his neck.

But before any of them could take the course farther, there's peals of laughter and a parade of footsteps down the corridor.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", Jungkook immediately let's go of Jimin, turning around to disentangle himself and avoid the approaching mob. Jungkook busies himself in the pile of wood boards but Jimin clings to him, hands flung over his shoulder and face buried in his neck. "Jimin, fuck- let go-!" 

Not knowing what to do, Jungkook latches his hands onto his sides, falling onto the mat along with him in his hold. He manages to pull his hands away, grabbing his wrists to make it look like he was pinning him down. He leans closer to Jimin, narrowing his eyes in a warning glare, "You're so fucking dead." 

Jimin laughs, breathless, "Oh, did I scare you, mr invincible?"

"Oh you fucking wish I was that naive to fall into your game", Jungkook grunts, "You knew they were gonna turn in early today didn't you?"

Jimin smirks, a stupendous change in his air, "Yep, glad to know you're playing along."

"What do you have against my job?"

"Nothing."  

Jungkook snarls narrowing his eyes, "Then why-"

In a flitting moment, Hoseok rushes to the two boys pinning each other, yanking Jungkook away by his uniform, "Are you two at it again? Quit it already before someone gets killed!"

Taehyung helps Jimin up who wears a placid expression, winking at Jungkook while running a hand through the smooth strands of his hair.

"Oh no, it's fine. He was just telling me I'm his new favourite trainee. Weren't you, Jungkook?"

Everyone in the room stares at him blankly while Jungkook's fists ball at his sides, lips forming an impassive line.

Trouble, it comes as a slap in the face, that boy's just trouble.