Work Text:
MONDAY
Monday morning started with Jimin stepping barefoot on cat puke.
After cursing out Geopum -- who was innocently curled up at the foot of his bed, pretending she didn’t see him -- cleaning the floor and taking a shower, Jimin was ten minutes late rushing out the door. On the second block as he was dashing for the bus he tripped on god knows what, hard enough to skin his palms as he braced for impact. He’d missed his bus, grabbed the next, then realized he’d forgotten his lunch at home. This was supposed to be his week of starting fresh with good habits, being on time to work and bringing healthy, packed lunches every day, and instead he was going to be slinking in late (again), with muddy pants and spending money on convenience store food (again). Jimin closed his eyes and wished, with every fiber of his being, that he was home and in bed, warm and safe, with Geopum rumbling softly next to him.
Jimin had read a self-help book a few years back that had talked about self-fulfilling prophecies, the power of thoughts and how they can impact your emotions. “It’s not about positive thinking,” the book had said. “It’s not about pretending bad things are good things, it’s recognizing that bad things are distinct experiences. That bad things, or several bad things, don’t indicate a larger pattern that you’re going to have a bad day, or week, or that everything always goes wrong.”
Jimin tried to take that to heart, mostly, but that book didn’t understand how his life was actually cursed and today was going to suck. He spent the bus ride yelling at the author in his head, then imagined tearing that page out of the book, which made him feel a tiny bit better.
Whatever good feeling he had evaporated immediately when he got to the office, hoping to sneak in quietly and sit at his desk like he’d been there all along, and Heeyeon, the department director’s assistant, was waiting for him.
“Jimin-ssi,” she said warmly, not acknowledging his lateness. “President Kang would like to speak to you.”
Great. Just...great. He was getting fired. Or disciplined. Jimin’s mind spun in circles, trying to think of all the ways he might have screwed up in the past few weeks as he grabbed a wet wipe out of his top drawer and quickly scrubbed his scraped hands. He couldn’t come up with anything, but who knew? He was the youngest associate at the firm, he didn’t know half as much as the guys who’d been there for years, and he was disposable. They could let him go with a word.
By the time he crossed the floor to President Kang’s office, Jimin could barely breathe, he was so anxious. Heeyeon rapped twice on the door, then opened it. “Sir? I have Park Jimin here.”
“Yes, thank you, Heeyeon. Jimin-ssi, please come in.” President Kang was somewhere on the north side of his middle years, with two streaks of salt and pepper hair above his ears and a craggy face that suggested skin problems in his youth. It didn’t detract from his commanding air or his charisma, which was formidable.
Jimin bowed and greeted him. “Hello, sir.”
“Jimin-ssi, I was reading up on the work you did with the Southern Waters environmental group. You were able to get a complicated job done quickly, and our contact there had nothing but positive things to say about you.”
This was so out of line from what Jimin’s brain had been expecting that he just stood there for a second, silent. “Oh!” he said, stumbling a little. “Thank you, sir. I tried to do my best.”
“That brings me to my proposal,” President Kang said. “Please.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
MONDAY NIGHT
“Wait, a rapper?” Taehyung asked, his eyes going wide. “Okay, but why would you know anything about rap?” He shoved a massive pile of noodles into his mouth.
“I know, right? But President Kang was impressed by my work and he thinks that being young means that I can ‘relate’ to this Rap Monster guy -- seriously, what kind of name is that -- and what was I supposed to do? Torpedo my own career?” Jimin felt his knee bouncing under the table and tried to stop it. Center himself. He was having dinner with his best friend and if nothing else, a bitch session would do him good.
“But you only like whiny guys with guitars,” Taehyung said, grinning around another mouthful of noodles.
“And you only like singers who’ve been dead like 100 years,” Jimin snapped back. “So where does that leave us?”
Taehyung shrugged. “We can ask Jungkook, I guess.”
“Holy shit yeah, Jungkook,” Jimin agreed. “He’ll know for sure.”
TUESDAY NIGHT
Luckily, Jungkook was free and was into the idea of going out for a few drinks. Jimin figured he’d buy him a few drinks to make up for the fact that he was going to be pumping him for info the whole time. He wasn’t, however, anticipating the response he got.
“Wait.” Jungkook froze in place, going so completely, visibly offline that Jimin was concerned for a second. “Do you mean-- RM?”
“Rap Monster, I guess?”
Jungkook looked like he might pass out. “First of all,” he said in a rush. “He hasn’t used that name in like, months. He goes by RM.”
“Since I’m going to be his financial advisor, not his fansite, I think I’m probably just going to call him Kim Namjoon.”
“Hyung, this might be the coolest you’ve ever been in your life,” Jungkook said, shaking his head, clearly trying not to giggle.
Jimin decided to let that pass because he was a good hyung and, well. He liked math and books and his cat. Maybe he wasn't as cool as someone named Rap Monster, but who cared about that? The guy was probably an asshole anyway, most rich people were.
WEDNESDAY
Jimin had watched a few of Rap Monster’s videos after talking with Jungkook. He’d seemed larger than life, tall and imposing. Hot, in a cocky kind of way. But he resisted the urge to go down a youtube rabbit hole; it would be harder to do his job if he started treating this guy like a celebrity. He was going to be nervous enough about doing the job well, he didn’t need to add being starstruck onto it.
Rap Monster -- Kim Namjoon, he reminded himself -- lived in Hannam-dong, of course. Not one of the gated communities for the truly elite, but a building with several layers of security that reeked of quiet wealth. Jimin had been expecting to meet with a manger or handler of some kind first, but one of the building security officers unlocked the elevator with a code and told Jimin to go on up.
Whatever Jimin was expecting -- either from Jungkook’s fanboying or from the few videos he watched -- those expectations were gone the second Kim Namjoon opened the door. Kim Namjoon was tall and yes, very very hot, but he was also barefaced and fresh from the shower, wearing sweatpants and a loose plain white t-shirt. He was barefoot, no slippers, and there was a leftover spot of cream on his face that hadn’t been rubbed in.
“Park Jimin-ssi?” Namjoon smiled and gestured Jimin inside, kicking a few pairs of shoes out way, where they had just been piled next to the shoe rack. “Please, come in. Sorry for all this--” he gestured at himself. “I just came from two days of shooting, I was in desperate need of a shower.”
“Of course, don’t worry about it.” Jimin toed his shoes off and looked around. The entry hall was lit with recessed lights in the ceiling and lined by display cases with glowing white shelves. Everything was very smooth and shiny and spotless, except for the unkempt shoe rack. Namjoon led him down the hall, where Jimin could see that the shelves were crammed with toys and figurines of varying sizes, before leading him out into the wide, bright living room. Windows wrapped around nearly the entire room, offering a breathtaking view of the city.
“I’m sorry to make you come out here,” Namjoon was saying, like Jimin ever had a chance in hell to visit a place like this in his normal life. “But my manager is a little paranoid about security issues.”
“No, I understand, we have a lot of clients who want onsite audits for that reason.” Jimin smiled encouragingly at Namjoon, who just stared back at him, seemingly distracted. “Namjoon-ssi, where would you like me…?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Namjoon asked, looking startled. “Oh! Oh, yes, I have you set up in the office. Right this way.”
Namjoon led him to a small room off the living room. It looked only half-finished, with a few boxes and framed pictures stacked against one wall, waiting to be hung up. There was a small minimalist desk with a laptop open and running on it and nothing else, no personal effects. The only sign of life in the room was that the shelf running across the top of the desk was filled with tiny potted plants.
“Sorry, I moved in not too long ago and I never use this room,” Namjoon was saying. “I do all my work at my studio, pretty much.” He gestured to the desk. “This room is yours for the next few days. My manager set up everything you need on that laptop. My whole financial life.” He grimaced, cutely. “I’ve let the front desk know to expect you, you don’t have to call up every time. You’ll be here what, 8-3?” At Jimin’s nod, he went on. “Great, I’ll be in and out, I don’t really follow a typical office schedule.” He smiled, looking a little bashful. It was very endearing. “Anyway, like I said, the space is yours. I’ll show you the kitchen and the bathroom, please feel free to use the fridge and microwave for your lunch and help yourself to the water from the filter. Is there anything else you need?”
After Jungkook’s lengthy and increasingly tipsy speech about how cool and amazing and intimidating and talented and hardcore and cool and handsome and did i mention cool, hyung? speech about RM, Jimin was expecting...well, not this. He thought he’d be gritting his teeth through dealing with some celebrity’s ego for days at best. Not Namjoon treating him kindly, like an equal.
“Thank you, Namjoon-ssi,” Jimin said, already unpacking his own laptop. “I’m sure I’ll be comfortable.”
“Well then,” Namjoon said. He stood there two beats too long, his hands jammed into the pockets of his sweatpants, which was probably stretching out the fabric but was doing frankly amazing things for his thighs. “Okay, well. I’ll be here,” he said, gave an awkward little half-wave, and left.
Well. Namjoon was much more down to earth than Jimin had anticipated, and he didn’t talk down to Jimin like some of the firm’s more wealthy clients had in the past. He was also ridiculously handsome, not just in the way he’d seen in the videos -- there was no sign of the growling, sweating rapper he’d watched -- but he had a beautiful smile and great body proportions and killer dimples...and Jimin needed to stop that train of thought right now. He was here to prove himself to President Kang. He was here to do a job and he wasn’t going to mess that up.
Kind and very cute was certainly more than Jimin was expecting, but he wasn’t here to talk to cute boys, he had a job to do. He put all thoughts of Kim Namjoon’s dimples aside, and turned to focus on Kim Namjoon’s finances instead.
Namjoon had accountants who seemed to be mostly in charge of dealing with his taxes and royalties and making sure his bills got paid. They didn’t do much in the way of detailed advising on how he was spending his money, which is what Jimin was here to do.
His first point of order was to look at the larger stuff -- any stock market or real estate investments, and then work his way through to spending patterns. Thankfully, Namjoon’s records seemed to be fairly straightforward and his accountants kept good records.
At first glance, things weren’t terrible. This condo had been his first major purchase after hitting it big. He had a mix of stock market investments, not diverse enough for Jimin’s tastes, but respectable. There was another home that he’d bought about a month back, and further digging showed that it was a house for his family. It was a little indulgent given the state of his assets, but Jimin wasn’t going to fault him for his filial piety.
The expenses, though. That was another story. There was something going on there, and Jimin needed to do some digging.
Several hours later, Jimin stretched, took his glasses off, and rubbed his dry eyes. He glared toward the hallway, where he’d passed all those goofy toys.
Apparently those toys cost a goddamn fortune. Jimin suppressed the urge to go out there and figure out exactly which of those monstrosities cost a year’s worth of Jimin’s rent. Even the cheaper ones were hundreds of thousands of won. Kim Namjoon was rich, that was undeniable, but he wasn’t the kind of rich where he could be spending that kind of money. He barely had enough of a retirement fund! What if he had some kind of illness or injury and couldn’t perform?
Grimly, Jimin opened Excel. This was going to require at least three new graphs.
*******
Jimin was so completely absorbed in his work that it took him a few minutes to register Namjoon knocking at the office door several hours later. “Hello,” Namjoon said. “Sorry to interrupt, but I stopped to get coffee and thought you might want some? I don’t know what you like, so I just got an americano.”
“Oh-- you didn’t have to do that.” Jimin looked up at him and smiled. “But I’ll take it, thank you.”
“I really appreciate your help,” Namjoon said. He had changed from earlier, into jeans that were probably not supposed to be tight, but those thighs were doing their best to make them so. Hot, built, and kind? Absolutely unfair. “I’m new to this whole, ah- ha ha,” he laughed awkwardly. “This whole money thing? I need all the help I can get.”
“Yeah, you do,” Jimin said without thinking.
“Well that’s ominous,” Namjoon said cheerfully. “I trust you to set me straight, Jimin-ssi. You know, you’re not really what I was expecting.”
That makes two of us, Jimin thought. Out loud, he said “Oh?” and leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand.
“Yeah, I was expecting them to send some grim-faced ahjussi in a suit to lecture me, but instead they sent someone who’s...my age?” It was clearly a question.
“‘95.”
“Ah, I’m ‘94. It’s nice having someone close to my age around, so I don’t feel like a little kid getting scolded.”
“I might still scold you,” Jimin teased. “Just so you know.”
Namjoon flushed and looked away, shifting his stance. Oh. Oh, that was interesting. “I don’t mind that as much,” Namjoon finally said.
Jimin smirked and leaned back, pushing his hair away from his face, before remembering that Namjoon was his client and that Jimin was here to impress the firm, not Namjoon. “Thanks for the coffee, Namjoon-ssi,” he said. “Sorry, I need to get back to work.”
“Of course, sorry for the interruption.” Namjoon gave a little half-wave. “I’ll see you later.”
Jimin shook off any thoughts of flirting, or thighs, or smiles, and got back to work.
*********
“Namjoon-ssi?” Jimin called. It echoed through the empty apartment. He wondered if Namjoon ever got lonely here.
He was ready to leave and wanted to thank Namjoon before he left, but Namjoon wasn’t in the kitchen or any of the common spaces. Jimin hoped it was okay to just...leave? He didn’t really want to just linger around the apartment.
Well, if Namjoon had any questions, Jimin figured he could ask him tomorrow, but when he got to the front door, there was a large sticky note on it. It said:
Jimin-ssi,
Had to go out. If you leave, you can’t get back in w/o going to front desk bc of the security system. Sorry!! Pls let me know if you have any questions or to yell at me ;)
Namjoon
At the bottom of the note was a phone number. Was that...Namjoon’s personal phone number? It couldn’t be. It had to be his manager, or an office, or something? Jimin was too curious to leave it alone though, so he sent a text to the number.
hello, this is park jimin. I’m done for the day and heading out
Almost immediately, there was a response: Thanks, Jimin! See you tomorrow
Huh. Feeling more than a little flattered, Jimin put his phone away and headed home.
THURSDAY
Considering the money Namjoon was spending on toys, Jimin was expecting something equally ridiculous in his daily expenses. Bottles of imported wine. Expensive dinners. Spa treatments. Maybe a fleet of luxury cars he was paying to maintain.
But no. Kim Namjoon ordered takeout most nights, from restaurants Jimin recognized. The only thing close to a spa treatment was a sports massage from a physical therapist. No cars at all, just a monthly payment to Ddareungi. He spent a lot on clothes, particularly when he was traveling. That would have to be curtailed somewhat.
One of the items caught his eye. 30,000 won at Baby’s Bliss. A quick Naver search led him to-- oh. It was just what it sounded like, a store for rich people to buy expensive things for babies. A sinking feeling caught in Jimin’s stomach. What if-- no. No, Namjoon probably had a sister or a cousin or someone who was having a baby. That was the logical explanation. He was just being silly and overinvested in Namjoon’s private life.
Five days later, another purchase. 63,000 won. And another, two days later. 45,000 won. That was so much money for a relative’s gift. Oh...no. Jimin wished he could go back in time and not see this. Was he-- had he just discovered a celebrity’s secret baby? Oh god. What the hell was he going to say about this? Nothing, obviously. Nothing. He never saw it.
He had just made up his mind to write it up as “gifts” when Namjoon opened the door, saying, “Jimin, do you want to take a break and get some cof--oh.” He stopped, worry dawning slowly on his face.
Apparently, Jimin hadn’t controlled his own expression fast enough. Cheeks burning, Jimin turned to stare at his screen. He could feel his heart pounding. A secret baby was a big deal. Huge. He didn’t think Namjoon would bribe him, but what if he did? Jimin would refuse, of course, but then what?
“Jimin?” Namjoon asked, pulling up a chair to sit near him. “Um. Did you find something weird?”
He looked nervous, and Jimin realized that if he never said anything, Namjoon would be worried about him going to the press. He took a deep breath, tried to calm his thoughts, and said, in his most even voice. “I saw these purchases at the baby store. I was just surprised. They must be...gifts?”
Namjoon barked out a laugh and collapsed back against the chair. “Oh my god,” he said, sounding shaky and relieved. “That’s it? Jesus, I thought you’d found like...weird porn stuff or something.”
Jimin laughed from the sheer relief of it probably not being a secret baby. “I found your illegal porn subscriptions yesterday, I don’t care about those.” There was a variety to the sites that Namjoon frequented that Jimin was impressed with, as well as the frequent orders to overseas sex shops, but that was none of Jimin’s business. “I thought I was uncovering an imminent scandal.”
“Well, if you saw my porn, you’d know I was gay,” Namjoon muttered, crossing his arms, and Jimin laughed harder, falling against the desk. Namjoon’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment but he was smiling at Jimin like they shared a joke. Jimin felt himself blushing a little too. “I just think baby shoes are cute, okay? I have a little shelf of them in my studio.”
“I’m looking at your credit card statements, not your browser history,” Jimin said, exasperated. “And--” he was hesitant to out himself right now, in a work situation with a client, so he just said, “and I get it, so don’t worry.” There. Plausible deniability.
Except that the way Namjoon perked up and looked at him with heat and interest in his eyes was pretty undeniable. Jimin warmed under his admiration and let his fingertips graze the top of his shirt collar, watching as Namjoon’s eyes tracked the movement. Damn, it was such a shame he was a client.
“Wait,” Jimin said, his brain catching up with him. “Did you just say that you spent 138,000 won on baby shoes that aren’t for an actual baby?”
“They’re for the aesthetic! Like, I don’t know. Like art. Or a statue.”
Now that the mood had lightened a bit, and to get his mind off any flirting, Jimin fixed Namjoon with a glare. “Which brings me to something else. We need to talk about the toys.”
“The uh--” Namjoon looked uncomfortable. He scratched the back of his head. “Those aren’t-- those aren’t illegal.”
“What,” Jimin said, suddenly lost.
“There are shops, here in Korea.” Namjoon took a deep breath. He looked like he was mentally trying to escape the planet, or like he was trying to self-immolate on the spot. “And this is-- this is all confidential right?”
Jimin tried to piece together what was happening. “What are you-- oh! Not the sex toys, your hundreds of millions of won worth of weird statues out there!”
“Those? Some of them are very rare,” Namjoon said, the edge of whine creeping into his voice.
“Some of them would be a down payment on another house,” Jimin said flatly. “And spending 138,000 won on baby shoes just because they’re cute? That’s the kind of thing you can do after you’ve doubled your current savings. Which you can do quickly, if you stop the bleeding ”
“I don’t want to buy another house, though. And I like the shoes,” Namjoon grumbled. “But I guess this is why I hired you.” He looked up through his lashes, like he thought being cute would get him out of trouble.
But Jimin was used to these kinds of shenanigans from Taehyung who was, frankly, better at it. He couldn’t be swayed by mere cuteness.
“You’ll need a new house to hold all your toys if you keep buying them like that. Look, here, I made a graph so you can see.” Jimin pulled up the spreadsheet on his laptop. “I’m not saying you can’t buy toys and stuff anymore, but you really need to be buying less of them.”
“I’m not used to being able to buy anything I want,” Namjoon confessed. “I’m used to trying to figure out how I can swing my monthly bus pass and also eat out a few times a month. Having money just there, available, any time...maybe I went a little nuts.”
“Well,” Jimin said, cracking his neck and pulling up the first few pages of his report, “that’s why you have me.”
********
After Jimin wrapped everything up and was about to leave for the day, he went looking for Namjoon to say goodbye. He wasn’t in the oversized main room or the kitchen, so Jimin just texted him. heading out for the day, see you tomorrow
A message came right back. I’m on the balcony. 2nd door after the kitchen, if you want to see the view before you leave
The second door after the kitchen revealed-- oh. This was clearly Namjoon’s bedroom. A large, unmade bed was in the center of the room, and there were dressers and shelves piled with more toys, framed artwork, plants, and lots of books. It looked more lived-in than the rest of the house. Across the far wall were more windows and a glass door opening out onto a deck. Namjoon was there, leaning on the concrete ledge.
It was kind of awkward being in someone else’s bedroom, so Jimin moved through as quickly as possible to get out to the balcony. Jimin might have thought that it was weird to invite someone you didn’t know well to walk through your bedroom, but Jimin felt like Namjoon was actually just kind of clueless.
“This is my favorite place in the whole apartment,” Namjoon said as Jimin walked through the door. Jimin could see why. There were plants everywhere, in pots and hanging from standing hooks. A small table and two chairs sat between two of the largest plants, and there was a bluetooth speaker playing soft music. Spread out beneath them was a cascade of other balconies, dotted with the bright blue of swimming pools, and then further down, Seoul spread out beneath them. The sun was shining and the air was good. It was really beautiful, and Jimin was glad he got to see it.
“It’s beautiful,” Jimin said. He thought about his own apartment, which had a view of another row of windows. The best part about his view was the mini poodle the guy across the street owned, who sometimes popped into view when Jimin was doing the dishes. “I’ve never seen anything like it.’ He laughed. “And I probably never will.”
“Well, you can--” Namjoon started to say, then made a face. “I was going to say you could come over and hang out, but that’s probably a little too friendly, huh.”
“We’ve discussed your porn and your weird sex toy collection,” Jimin said, bumping his shoulder into Namjoon’s. “I think we’re a little familiar. But you’re also a client while I’m working on this contract.”
“Wait, can I make the invitation contingent upon you never mentioning my sex toys again,” Namjoon asked, sighing. Jimin cracked up, leaning into Namjoon’s sun-warmed skin. “Seriously, I don’t want to find out if it’s possible to actually die of embarrassment.”
“I promise that part is not going in my report,” Jimin held out his hand and Namjoon shook it solemnly. “It’s all going under ‘entertainment expenses’.”
“If you stop talking about it, I’ll tell you gossipy shit about my neighbors,” Namjoon offered, winking at Jimin with a smile. God, he was hot. And flirting? Maybe flirting.
“Oh my god, please. I love gossip.” Jimin leaned forward and put his chin on his hand expectantly.
“Well, see that place with the red chairs out? Over there? That’s old Mrs Min, and she’s been divorced seven times…”
THURSDAY NIGHT
Jimin got home, ordered some jjin-mandu from the place down the street, and ate it on the couch with Geopum stretched out along the top of the cushion behind him. He couldn’t stop thinking about Namjoon, running their conversations back in his head, trying to ignore the warm, bubbling feeling he got when he thought about him.
One thing he remembered was Namjoon saying “This is confidential, right?” and Jimin not answering. Buoyed by adrenaline and yes, maybe that warm, bubbling, I have a crush feeling, Jimin took out his phone and texted Namjoon.
i never answered you before, when you asked if everything was confidential. I signed an NDA that says I can’t go to the press, and I take my ethics seriously, don’t worry. I wouldn’t betray your trust. In case you were wondering.
Quickly, an answer came back.
I didn’t think you would. You seem ok, I just can’t be sure, you know?
Jimin curled up and let his hand drop on the back of Geopum’s neck, listening to her purr. trust me, I get it. He hesitated, not wanting to cross too many lines, but hell, they had already talked about sex toys. if you ever want to talk to someone who gets it, I’m here
really? I’d like that, actually
Jimin knew he must look stupid, smiling so hard at his phone, but he couldn’t stop himself.
FRIDAY
The last day at Namjoon’s was uneventful. Jimin finished checking the numbers, compiled the report for Namjoon’s accountants, and double checked to make sure there were no new surprises. Jimin tried not to dawdle, but he wanted to. He liked being here, in this big, beautiful apartment. He liked talking to Namjoon. He liked the way Namjoon looked at him, sometimes.
Which is probably why he should just leave, get back to the office, and focus on turning in the best audit of his life. Finishing this job well was the most important thing. Flirting could come later, if at all.
He packed everything up and went out to find Namjoon in the kitchen, a laptop open in front of him as he shoveled spoonfuls of cereal in his mouth. Jimin noticed that he was eating Oreo Oz, like a little kid. Well, when you were rich you could buy yourself sweeping views of Seoul and as much sugary cereal as you wanted.
“I’m heading out,” Jimin said, leaning against the gleaming, polished kitchen island. “It’s been a pleasure, Namjoon-ssi.”
“Oh? But it’s early? I thought you’d be here for another few hours.” Namjoon stood and wiped his hands on his pants. There was a music program running on his laptop and a notebook open next to it, with lines and lines of notes scribbled all over it.
“Nope, I got everything finished. This was actually a pretty easy audit.” Jimin was proud of the work he’d done, and he was glad he could help someone he genuinely liked.
“So, do you want to stay? Maybe listen to some stuff I’ve been working on?” Namjoon lifted a set of headphones and wiggled them invitingly.
“I have to get to the office,” Jimin said, trying to sound as sorry as he felt. “I need to put the final touches on this report and get it out to your accountants, submit my hours. Wrap up everything for you.”
“But if I have any questions, I can text you?”
Jimin smiled. “If you have any questions, ask your accountants, who will talk to my firm.” Seeing Namjoon’s face fall slightly, he added, “But if you have any music recommendations, or stuff for me to listen to, then you can text me.”
“Sure,” Namjoon said, perking up. “I’m glad I met you, Jimin. It’s been nice having you around.”
Jimin wasn’t silly enough to have any expectations. Right now, in the moment, Namjoon seemed to want more with him -- friendship, flirtation, a hookup -- but it was hard to say if anything would come of it. Meeting a handsome, rich, famous stranger who fell for him was a movie fantasy, not anything that happened in Jimin’s real life
The office was busy when he got back, but it was the usual Friday afternoon kind of busy, not the tension of Monday morning. People were making plans for drinks after work, a cluster of people were looking at a picture of Seokmin’s new puppy, the volume level was a little higher and everyone was acting a little looser.
Jimin ignored the crowd to settle in and dock his computer. He put on his headphones and got lost in fine tuning the report on Namjoon’s financial life. He tweaked everything until it was pristine, polished, and concise. It was some of the best work he’d ever put together, and even his own internal relentless self critic was satisfied.
He sent the report to President Kang and then finished up submitting his hours, and sat back in his chair. That was it, he was done. He no longer had any professional ties to Namjoon. And if they were going to have any personal ones, that was going to be up to Namjoon.
It seemed like everyone had left for the night while he’d been working, which was too bad. He could use a drink with friends right now. Jimin shot off a message to Taehyung and Jungkook, to see if they wanted to get together in a bit.
On his way out, Jimin saw President Kang step out from his office, also closing up for the night. “Jimin!” he said, smiling. “I just glanced over the report you put together for the Kim Namjoon contract. Nice work. I’m glad I could rely on you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jimin bowed to him as he walked past. Well. He’d done what he’d set out to do, which was impress his boss. If Namjoon texted him, then that was just a bonus.
FRIDAY NIGHT
“Honestly fuck him if he doesn’t text me,” Jimin declared, slamming back another shot. “Who does he think he is? All…all hot and legs and nice smile.”
“Yeah, hyung,” Jungkook said, screwing open another bottle of peach soju. “Wait, who are we talking about again?”
Jimin had just told Jungkook that he was mad about some boy at work and that was his story and he was sticking to it, damn it. “You aren’t tricking me out of my secrets, Jeon Jungkook. I am a boss.”
“Okay, boss,” Jungkook agreed. “How about we order some chicken? You gotta eat something.”
And that was the last thing that Jimin could remember for a while, until he had a vague memory of checking his still-dark phone on the cab ride home. Nothing.
SATURDAY
Jimin spent the entire day in bed with Geopum, watching RM fancams and glaring at his phone.
Zero regrets.
SUNDAY
It was a risk. Jimin knew it was a risk, and he could be embarrassing himself, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, it could work out. If it didn’t, then he could call Jungkook and go out and drown his sorrows again. It meant starting the workday hungover, but Mondays sucked anyway. He’d deal.
But he wasn’t going to sit around and wait for the famous guy to call him. He wasn’t some useless second lead in a drama, he was Park Jimin, he was hot, he was going to get what he wanted.
Well, or he was going to get rejected. But either way, it was happening on his terms.
Namjoon had only ever seen Jimin in a white or blue button down shirt, dress pants, and a tie. Tonight, Jimin put on a loose-necked black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, Chelsea boots, and just enough silver accessories to draw attention to the line of his neck, the curve of his wrist. He put all thoughts of failure out of his head, and focused on how hot he knew he looked. There had been a little voice in his head that told him that Namjoon saw plenty of hotter, taller, richer people in his daily life, but Jimin knew how Namjoon had looked at him. He knew.
And he also knew, from their conversations last week, that Namjoon had an early flight to New York the next morning, so he was going to be home, trying to stay up so he could sleep on the plane. Namjoon had told him.
On the cab ride over, Jimin sent Namjoon a text, hoping he hadn’t changed his number yet. Hyung, it’s Jimin
Jimin!!! Hi!!!
Jimin relaxed into his seat, smiling at the screen. can I talk to you about something? not work related
There was a slight pause, then of course.
The driver pulled up in front of Namjoon’s building and Jimin got out, thanking him with a smile. He walked into the lobby and saw, unexpectedly, the security guard who’d been there all week. Jimin decided to take that as a good omen.
“Hello sir, I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” was all the guard said. “You can head up, Namjoon-ssi has given you blanket permission to come and go as you please.”
Jimin felt his smile grow wider. He wanted to laugh, warmth and glee tickling up through his stomach. He was right, he could feel it in his soul. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate it.”
When he stepped out of the elevator, Jimin took out his phone again. Under Namjoon’s of course, he typed out. ok, then let me in.
There was a quick pounding of feet, then Namjoon was there, flinging open the door with more force than Jimin was expecting. He was wearing shorts and a tank top and prescription glasses that Jimin had never seen before. It was a lot, but the look on Namjoon’s face as he took in Jimin’s outfit was even better.
“Sorry for stopping by like this,” Jimin said, not even trying to sound sorry. “But I wrapped up my hours on Friday after I left here, which means that I’m officially not working on your contract. We don’t have a professional relationship anymore. So, I was wondering--”
His carefully planned speech went out of his head as Namjoon stepped forward, pulled Jimin in by the waist, and kissed him. He tasted like chocolate and smelled like expensive cologne. Jimin smiled into the kiss. “So that’s a yes, then?”
“Oh good,” Namjoon said, tenderly kissing his jaw. “I’m glad I guessed right on where that speech was going.”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee with me, since you’re staying up.” Jimin laughed, finally giving himself permission to run his hands up and down Namjoon’s bare arms. “But we’re skipping ahead to the kissing, I love it.”
“Sorry,” Namjoon said, sounding even less sorry than Jimin had, just minutes before. “I didn’t know how to handle this, because of the work thing. I was looking up professional ethics guidelines all weekend.”
“Nerd,” Jimin said fondly. “Well, do you want to get coffee with me? And then make out on your couch until it’s time for you to leave?”
“I’d love to.” Namjoon hugged him closer. “But don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
“I can call in,” Jimin said, shrugging. “The boss loves me right now, and you know what? It’s been a hell of a week.”