Chapter Text
“Five, six, seven, eight and one, two, three- no, no, no, stop,” Hoseok says, walking over to his phone where he presses pause, the song coming to an abrupt stop.
He turns around, lifting his hands in the air as if to question what is going on. Sure, they've been at it for a few hours at this point, but it isn’t usual for Jungkook to get stuck on a move, something his choreographer can attest to.
“Dude.”
“I know, I know” Jungkook groans, dropping to the ground so that he’s on his palms and knees, a pearl of sweat travelling down the length of his nose and falling to the floor with a splat. “Sorry.”
He stands up, gingerly accepting the water bottle Hoseok is offering him, downing about half of it as he slides down to the floor with his back pressed against the mirrored wall.
“Still hungover?”
Jungkook shakes his head. He’d actually only had a few drinks last night, so it isn’t like he can blame his brain fog on that.
“Well I am,” Hoseok chuckles, joining Jungkook on the floor with a slump. “Jin and Jimin basically drank me under the table.”
Hoseok, as always, is as subtle as a gun. He doesn’t look at Jungkook, but the rapper can still see the choreographer’s mouth turn up in a smirk only barely hidden by the bottle which he brings up to his lips.
When Jimin had walked in through the door last night, the first thing Jungkook had felt was absolute panic. Karaoke with his friends had sounded like a good way of getting his mind off of this whole fake relationship business. Instead, he’d ended up spending the entirety of the night sulking by the bar, too bummed out to even enjoy a drink.
He should have just headed home, but curiosity had gotten the better of him. Jungkook told himself he would only stay long enough to see when things inevitably got awkward between Jimin and his friends, because they had to. There was no way his fake boyfriend would befriend his friends, especially when Jimin had made it abundantly clear he would cut all ties to Jungkook once their contract was over.
But as he’d watched the group from across the room, he’d witnessed the exact opposite happen. And what had been even stranger was that when he’d eventually bumped into Jimin after finally deciding to stop torturing himself and call it a night, they’d somehow ended the night on what he can only describe as amicable terms.
This is why Jungkook had woken up today not knowing what to think or how to feel.
“Looked like you guys had fun,” he replies absentmindedly, mind still stuck on the memory of Jimin stumbling into his arms in the bathroom corridor.
“We did. Would’ve been more fun if you joined us, though,” Hoseok says, echoing what Jimin had told the rapper last night. The choreographer finally turns to look at Jungkook, and though he tries to look nonchalant, Jungkook recognizes the brotherly concern on his face. “Why didn’t you?”
Out of his friends, Hoseok has always been the easiest to talk to. There’s no one who knows Jungkook better than Yoongi, but sometimes it almost feels as if they’re too close. Yoongi’s like the big brother who scolds him for his mistakes, Namjoon the cool older friend who he looks up to. Seokjin is the one who gets his mind off of trouble — and sometimes in it — and between hour-long dance practices, Hoseok has become a safety net, always ready to hold the rapper in a warm embrace when he’s on the verge of tripping and falling.
Jungkook sighs.
He’s done a lot of that lately.
“It’s just awkward being around him. Pretending we like each other.”
“It’d probably be less awkward if you gave him a shot, you know,” Hoseok replies, though not in a teasing way. “And who knows? Maybe you guys could actually like each other.”
Okay, so he’s teasing just a little. Jungkook throws the choreographer a poignant look, which Hoseok returns with a lift of his eyebrows.
“As friends , of course,” he assures, though Jungkook can’t be certain there isn’t at least a sliver of wishful thinking in there. Out of all his friends, Hoseok is the one who most adamantly tries to set him up with people. The public might think he’s this serial-dating casanova, but Jungkook’s actually never had a relationship he’d consider serious enough to actually call it one.
Maybe that’s part of why he’s been so against this fake one with Jimin. It’s the first time he’s willingly being photographed with a love interest, and none of it is even real, which makes him feel hopeless about ever finding anyone he’d actually want to introduce to his fans as a loved one.
Hoseok jumps up from his seated position, reaching his hand out to the rapper. “C’mon. One last time and then we can go and eat. My treat.”
“I’m meeting up with Jimin after,” Jungkook says as he sluggishly takes the choreographer’s hand, letting the man pull him up to his feet. Hoseok only replies with another suggestive lift of his eyebrows.
“It’s a fake date,” Jungkook sneers, causing Hoseok to let out a joyous laugh which ends in the man patting his friend on the back as he leads the pair of the back to their positions in front of the mirror.
“We better finish this rehearsal then.”
—
It’s just a little before five pm, and Jungkook’s heart is hammering in his chest.
He’s sitting in the car, eyes following some leaves float across the pavement outside, feeling utterly unprepared for what’s to come. It’s been about 48-hours since the news of him and Jimin broke, and the company doesn’t want to waste any time, hoping to keep the momentum of their budding relationship going.
Which means today, Jungkook actually has to put his acting skills to the test. In just a few minutes, he’ll step out of the car together with Jimin, their afternoon park date followed closely by photographers hired by the company.
He can’t really put a finger on what it is he’s so nervous about. It’s everything, really. Jungkook can’t even remember the last time he’s been on a proper date with someone, not that this is one. What are they supposed to talk about? In hindsight, he probably should have taken Yoongi’s advice on learning a little something about Jimin, because waiting for him now, Jungkook realizes there isn’t much he knows about the man.
Jungkook’s in the middle of trying to compile a mental list on topics of discussion when the car door next to him suddenly opens, the rapper jerking up in his seat.
“Sorry I’m late. We got stuck in traffic,” Jimin says a little breathlessly. He licks his lips as he looks at Jungkook, still hovering by the opened car door. “We should probably head out straight away, right? They gave us an hour.”
Jungkook clears his voice before nodding. He fumbles a little with his seatbelt, and tries his best to ignore the fact that this makes the corner’s of Jimin’s lips turn up in a smirk. When he’s finally unbuckled, he jumps out of the car, Jimin joining him on his side of the vehicle.
“Should we get something hot to drink?” the man asks, glancing over to the kiosk at the edge of the park nearby. The car Jungkook had been sitting in drives away before he can answer, and the dread he’d been feeling sinks even deeper in the rapper’s stomach. Now they’re truly alone — well, Jungkook’s never fully alone when in public, a few of his bodyguards scattered close by just in case, plus the photographers following them. But all of them have been given instructions not to intervene unless completely necessary, and as far as Jungkook’s aware, him looking completely petrified by the thought of an hour alone with Jimin is probably not reason enough.
“C’mon, it’s my treat,” Jimin says, as if aware of the thoughts running in Jungkook’s mind, pulling the artist by the sleeve of his jacket and looping his arm around Jungkook’s.
The rapper is too stunned by the boldness in his fake boyfriend’s actions to give a reply, and it isn’t until they’re at the kiosk that Jimin lets go of his arm, carefully studying the list of beverages.
“What do you want?” he asks with a pout, finger tapping on his lower lip.
“I’ll have what you’re having,” Jungkook says, not really bothered to put any thought into what he’s drinking, and Jimin ends up ordering two hot chocolates, the men grabbing their cups and walking towards a bench a bit further away.
“I figured you can’t go wrong with a classic,” Jimin says once seated, the man blowing on his drink and then humming in delight after the first sip of his hot cocoa. Jungkook isn’t sure whether the statement is supposed to be some sort of nod to the steak he’d ordered a few days ago — also a classic. Still, he hums, lapping the melted marshmallows on top of his own drink with his tongue, bringing his mouth to the brim of the cup to take a sip of the beverage before it starts dripping down his hand.
The hot chocolate isn’t only delicious, but also a nice distraction. The two of them sit in silence as they enjoy their drinks, the steam from the chocolate keeping the tip of Jungkook’s nose warm in the biting chill of January. A few more minutes pass, before Jimin sets his cup down, resting it on his knees as he turns towards the rapper just slightly.
“So what do you like to do?”
The question confuses Jungkook, who shrugs his shoulders.
“Rap. Sing. Dance.”
“I mean, yeah, I figured,” Jimin giggles, taking a sip of his drink and licking his lips once he’s done. “I meant outside of work. What do you like to do in your spare time?”
Spare time? It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh out loud. It’s clear Jimin has no clue just how little of that he has, though it’s something he’d rather not get into. His drink is almost finished, but Jungkook still brings the cup up to his lips, the last drops of chocolate already cold as they go down.
“I like to eat. And play games on my phone,” he says, and though Jimin doesn’t laugh, Jungkook can see the way he’s trying to hide his smile behind his cup. “What?”
“Nothing, it’s just something Seokjin told me about you.”
It’s strange hearing Jimin drop the man’s name so casually. You’d think they’d be longtime friends, not barely acquaintances who’ve spent one night partying together.
“That I’m like a 15-year-old?” the rapper guesses, his hyung’s go-to observation about him.
“Maybe,” Jimin says coyly, gripping his cup with both hands as he turns in Jungkook’s direction. “I think it’s a good thing. Makes you seem more… normal.”
They must be well over 20 minutes into their date, and this is the first proper look Jungkook gets of Jimin. The turtle neck of an emerald green sweater is peeking past the collar of his dark coat, a beanie covering most of his hair apart from a few strands which stick out above his ears. His cheeks are red from the cold, lips puffy as he bites his teeth into the bottom one.
“Then how come you keep looking at me funny?”
Jimin doesn’t answer straight away, eyes flickering between Jungkook’s eyes and the rest of his face like he’s thinking of what to say. He breaks into a beaming smile.
“You have some hot chocolate on your cheek,” he eventually says, sounding almost fond, which only makes the immediate embarrassment Jungkook feels about ten times worse. The rapper is quick to bring his hand up to wipe at his cheek, but from the way Jimin’s smile turns bigger with each swab of his fingers, it’s clear he keeps on missing.
“I’ll get it for you,” his date says, Jimin’s fingers cold as they gently swipe across Jungkook’s cheek. The action is intimate, something they both seem to realize at the same time, because Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise which in turn causes Jimin to pull away his hand hastily, clapping them together as if he’s dusting them off. “There. Done.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, nearly swallowing the words altogether, quick with his next question in an attempt to forget what just happened. “And what about you?”
The question mark is visible on Jimin’s face, the crease between his brows only vanishing after Jungkook has clarified with a follow-up question. “What do you like to do?”
Jimin chuckles, maybe out of relief that their date is back on track with simple, surface-level questions with straightforward answers.
“Honestly? If it wasn’t for school and work I’d probably never leave my house.”
“Not the active type?”
“I mean I like to work out, and hang out with my best friend,” Jimin replies, mouth in a slight pout as he contemplates. “But other than that, I don’t really get out much. I guess you could call me a homebody.”
Jungkook snorts, the reaction genuine.
“I find that hard to believe, considering we first met at a nightclub.”
He also can’t imagine why someone who prefers to stay at home would willingly take part in this agreement, though he doesn’t say that part out loud. When Jimin turns to look at him, his eyes are big, mouth open in bewilderment, almost like he’s offended by what Jungkook has said, which the rapper finds quite amusing.
“That was an exception to the rule, one which I only made for Taehyung,” he replies defensively. Jimin huffs a little, shaking his head, the big beanie on his head making him look like a petulant child. “Besides, that night sort of proved my point, didn’t it? If I stay at home I have less of a chance of running into douchebags who can’t tell mine from theirs.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“You’re still not over that?”
“You stole my table! I spent like two month’s tips on that!”
The smile that has inconspicuously snuck up on Jungkook’s face as a result of their banter falls down. The rapper hasn’t had to worry about money for a long time, and sometimes he does forget that some things don’t come as easy to others as they do to him. Sure, he was drunk, but he hadn’t even thought twice about that snagging table, nor the fact that Jimin might have actually spent money on it.
In hindsight he feels bad, though it’s something he would ever admit to Jimin. Nonetheless, it seems his date can see the regret on Jungkook’s face, because the irk in his glare has melted away, Jimin shrugging his shoulders.
“It’s fine. I’m making it back with interest, so you can consider us even.”
Of course. Jungkook almost forgot this was all about money. He has no reason to feel guilty, because this is a mutual agreement which both of them will benefit from.
Jimin had said so himself.
“We still have some time left. Wanna walk around for a bit?”
Jungkook doesn’t have time to reply before Jimin is already standing up, essentially running away from the conversation, and the rapper gets up as well, following Jimin down the wintery pathway which runs through the park. It’s a bit more awkward now, the mention of the night they’d met like an alarm bell reminding them of the fact that they aren’t really boyfriends, or even friends for that matter. Jimin is a stranger, and even if this date has proved that they can at least be civil with one another, in a few months, Jungkook will be on tour and this era of his life will be nothing but another crazy story to think back on when he’s older.
His friends are right. Being cordial with Jimin, even friendly, will definitely make things easier for the both of them. Still, Jungkook can’t lose sight of the fact that this relationship has been born out of contract, one which according to his company, will save his career and reputation.
“Cold?”
Next to him, he can hear the way Jimin’s teeth rattle, the man actively trying to conceal it by clenching his jaw shut.
“It’s just my hands. I forgot my gloves," Jimin replies while blowing on his hands, the tips of his fingers pink. Looking more closely, Jungkook actually sees the man shiver in his oversized jacket, which makes him suspect Jimin might be downplaying just how cold he really is.
“I can hold your hand,” the rapper blurts out, causing Jimin to look at him suspiciously. He doesn’t blame the man. It’s a pretty straightforward suggestion after all, especially coming from him. Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t know, might look good in the pictures.”
The rapper nods towards a photographer he sees lurking behind a tree a bit further away, not wanting Jimin to think he’s offering for any other reason.
“Isn’t hand holding a little too much for a first date?” Jimin asks, looking at the man with the camera now that he’s spotted him too.
“We don’t have to-”
“I’m kidding,” Jimin says lightheartedly, the air from his mouth coming out as white puffs as he turns around to look at the rapper. He then puts his hand out, palmside up, a smug expression on his face. “You have my consent, Jungkook.”
If he’s learned anything about Jimin today, it’s that the man can go from serious to a wisecrack in the blink of an eye.
Even if he was the one to suggest it, it takes a few seconds for Jungkook to take Jimin’s hand, but once he does, his date lets their hands fall down in between them, their intertwined fingers leisurely swaying back and forth as they continue their stroll. They don’t say anything else for the remainder of the walk, which Jungkook is thankful for, because he’s truthfully run out of questions. Instead, he focuses on the way Jimin’s hand is slowly warming in his, the clattering sound from the man’s teeth subsiding until the only thing they can hear is the wind rattling in the barren trees, a camera shutter going off every now and then.
Before he knows it, they’ve made it back to the meeting point, two cars waiting for them to drive both men to their separate addresses.
“That went fine, don’t you think?” Jimin says, letting go of Jungkook’s hand which has almost become a little clammy from how tight it’s been held.
“It wasn’t bad.”
Jungkook genuinely means it — the date had gone surprisingly well, at least considering how nervous he'd been going into it. It might not be the most eloquent way of expressing it though, and had it been anyone else, Jungkook probably would have started doubting himself, wondering whether he’d sounded too unenthusiastic or even rude. Jimin, however, seems satisfied with the rapper’s halfhearted reply, nodding a little as he turns to look at the car which is waiting for him.
Jungkook expected the man to give his goodbyes and leave, and Jimin looks like he’s about to do just that, taking a half a step forward before suddenly stopping and turning to face Jungkook.
“Hey, uhm. Would you like my number?”
Just like Jungkook’s suggestion about holding hands, the question comes out of nowhere, though Jimin doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest about what he’s just said. “I don’t know. Just feels weird that we’re supposed to be acting like we’re dating each other and we don’t even have a way of contacting one another. What if we need to like, reschedule a date or something?”
The answer to that is obvious. Jungkook’s company would handle it, just as they do with most of his schedule. For some reason, however, the rapper doesn’t state this fact out loud, instead bringing his finger up to scratch the side of his head.
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
“Cool. Let me just-” Jimin puts his hand in his pocket, pulling out what looks to be a napkin and a paper, awkwardly scribbling down his number and handing it to Jungkook once he’s done. Jungkook thanks the man silently with a nod, trying not to crumple the napkin in his hand as he shoves it in his pocket.
“Well, I don’t wanna keep my driver waiting,” Jimin says, chuckling like there’s something funny about it. He looks a little like he might say something else, mouth opening for just a few seconds before promptly closing it with a small sigh. Instead, he mimics Jungkook's silent nod and walks towards the car.
Jungkook thinks he sees the man wave his hand goodbye behind the dark tinted mirror, but the car drives away before he can tell for sure.
—
Not even a few hours later, Jungkook is back at the company, sitting silently across the table from his team who are shuffling around pictures from the afternoon, trying to decide which ones will be published in an exclusive story later in the week.
“How are people supposed to believe you two like each other when you’re standing ten feet apart in 90% of these pictures?”
It’s one of the managers, Seojoon, who says it. He’s relatively new to the company, only been working with Jungkook’s team for just a little over a year after transferring from another entertainment company that he’d worked in for over a decade. Seojoon’s experience and history in the industry means that he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder, which Jungkook honestly finds quite irritating, the man always sticking his nose into matters that don’t really even concern him.
“People aren’t going to see 90% of these pictures,” Yoongi replies on Jungkook’s behalf, knowing how the rapper feels about Seojoon. Yoongi’s tried on several occasions to reassure Jungkook that surrounding himself with different types of people is a good thing, though the rapper can’t say he’s fully convinced the man isn’t a bad apple.
“This one’s cute!” Yuna, his stylist, says, lifting up a picture of Jimin wiping away the chocolate on Jungkook’s face. The rapper’s cheek turns warm at the memory of Jimin’s finger sliding across it, and Jungkook quickly turns his head away to hide the blush he feels creep up on his face. He grunts, the sound meant to express his approval, feeling exposed all of a sudden.
As a celebrity, he’s obviously used to looking at pictures of himself.
What he isn’t used to is seeing pictures of himself with someone.
“I just don’t get why you have your panties in a twist about this,” Seojoon chuckles, the sound coming out more of a scoff. “I’d get it if he was ugly but the guy’s not bad looking. Most guys would be thrilled. Heck, I know I would.”
It might be meant as a compliment to Jimin but all it does is leave a sour taste in Jungkook’s mouth. Whether it’s his age or just his sense of humor, Seojoon is rather bashful when it comes to speaking of others' appearances, another reason why Jungkook doesn't really care for his company.
“I don’t think you need me for this,” he says, swiftly getting up from his seat as he’s decided he has no interest in sticking around to hear the manager shift the conversation to himself — something he knows Seojoon always eventually does.
“They need your ok on these pictures, Jungkook,” Yoongi says a little more urgently, getting up as soon as he sees the rapper walk towards the door.
Jungkook doesn’t need to turn around to know Yoongi is right on his tail, the sound of the man’s shoes squeaking as he rushes after the rapper.
“Just go with whatever you like,” Jungkook replies dully, still not turning around. “Everyone already knows what’s best for me, so.”
“What’s going on?”
This time Jungkook’s forced to stop and turn around, a firm hand pulling him back by his shoulder.
“Nothing. The date went fine, the company is happy. It’s all good.”
Yoongi doesn’t look convinced. “I’m being serious. Talk to me.”
Jungkook sighs, mainly because he knows Yoongi won’t leave him alone until he’s given the manager an answer he’s satisfied with.
“I’m just sick of it, hyung,” he says quietly, even if there’s no one else in vicinity to hear them. “People treating me like I’m some project .
Yoongi’s reply, as usual, is painfully honest.
“You are their project, Jungkook,” his manager says, the words feeling like a slap to the face. “Sometimes people in this line of work lose sight of the fact that behind the project, there’s an actual human being.”
Yoongi’s honesty might not be comforting, but it serves as an important reminder of the sacrifices Jungkook has to make in this field. It makes him think back to something Jimin had said earlier, about how being childish made Jungkook seem more normal. What Jimin doesn’t understand, however, is that being a star means that unlike normal people, Jungkook can’t get sensitive about some of the things most people don’t even have to think about, like his privacy.
“Maybe talking to someone outside of the company might make you feel like less of a project.”
Jungkook looks up, surprised, because it isn’t what he expects to hear from Yoongi. He lets his face fall, arms crossing at his chest.
“You think all my problems these days will be solved by talking to Jimin.”
“I didn’t say you need to talk to Jimin.”
“But it’s what you were insinuating.”
Yoongi zones his eyes in on Jungkook, then clicks his tongue.
“I just think he might offer another perspective on things,” he says, crossing his own arms so that he’s mirroring Jungkook. “And he’s studying to become a counselor, so he really needs practice on dealing with tough cases.”
Jungkook tries not to laugh, genuinely finding Yoongi’s joke funny. Simultaneously, he isn’t ignorant of the fact that he’d completely failed to ask Jimin about his studies earlier, almost feeling a little embarrassed about his manager knowing so much more about the man he’s supposedly dating than he does. Jungkook shakes his head, replying with a long sigh. “I think I’m a lost cause, hyung.”
“Finally something we can agree on,” his manager smirks, patting Jungkook once on the back, his hand staying on the rapper’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. “Go home, Jungkook. Rest. It’s been a long day.”
That is something Jungkook can agree with.
But despite it being a long day, the rapper’s lids feeling impossibly heavy in the car on the way back to his house, once he’s home, Jungkook can’t seem to put his mind to rest. He tries his best, eating a light meal to soothe his grumbling stomach, and washing up with a warm shower before hopping in his bed and pulling the covers over his body, muscles sore from the strenuous dance practice he had in the morning.
However, sleep does not come easy. In fact, it shines with its absence, Jungkook laying in bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, mind playing the events of the day on loop. This happens every now and then, especially when he’s overworked. He can spend a whole night going through choreography in his head, though tonight, it isn’t his dance steps which keep his brain ticking, but instead the date he’d had with Jimin.
The more he thinks about it, the less it makes sense, especially the two different spectrums of Jimin’s personality — the ordinary and modest versus the asserted and bold — which throw his head for a loop so bad he physically starts feeling the vertigo.
Jungkook gets out of bed, kicking the cover off of him with such force it flies to the floor. He’s lost hope of falling asleep anytime soon, walking over to the drawer across from his bed where he’s left his phone to charge for the night.
At the sight of it, he remembers another curiosity from earlier.
Jungkook isn’t quite sure what possesses him to do what he does next, but before he knows it, he’s trudging over to the walk-in closet where the jacket he’d been wearing today hangs.
He pushes his hand in it blindly, fingers digging deep into its pocket. It takes a while, but once he feels the napkin grace the tips of his fingers, he fishes it out, crumpling the paper in his hand as he exits the closet, snatching his phone on his way back to the bed.
Jungkook sits on the edge of it, punching in the numbers with urgency, pulse picking up with each touch to his phone screen. He puts the phone up to his ear as the dial tone begins to beep, his heart pumping in tandem with.
Jungkook’s about ten seconds in when he finally awakens to what he’s doing.
It’s a quarter to midnight.
Jimin doesn’t even have his number saved on his phone.
There’s no way the man will answer a random number at this hour.
Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he goes to pull the phone away from his ear, but just then, the beeping sound is replaced by a breathy greeting.
“ Hello? ”
Jungkook doesn’t reply straight away, not sure whether he’s in disbelief because he’s called Jimin or because the man has actually picked up.
“Hey,” he finally gulps, the lack of any sort of confidence in his voice instantly giving away the fact that he is in fact not at all prepared for this conversation. There’s nothing he can do but be truthful, so without thinking about it too much, he blurts out:
“I don’t know why I called.”
" That’s alright,” Jimin replies straight away, surprisingly, not sounding weirded out. “Are you okay?”
Is he?
Probably not, considering he’s phoned his fake-boyfriend in the middle of the night for no apparent reason.
Definitely not, considering the questions which come out his mouth next.
"Are you busy?"
"No," Jimin says with an amused huff, because it is quite literally past midnight. Jungkook licks his lips, scratching his forehead with his free hand.
He feels sort of insane.
“Wanna come over?”
—
—
—