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Seokjin knew that people expected nothing but glamour and glitz from his life.
And they weren’t wrong to do so – he’d had the privilege of obtaining said alluring extravagances at the click of his finger throughout his life. In a way, he’d been living the exuberant dream of everything exaggerated and luxurious that others would simply die for. Grand parties with rich socialites who threw money at anything and everything was something he’d grown up with – expensive bars, pretty people and designer clothing being his familiar since a very young age.
Despite the riches, and the spotlight he grew up in, deep inside, he knew he wasn’t cut out for something this outward. In his truest form, he was a homebody who indulged in the simpler things of life, choosing to spend time holed up with nobody but himself in the dark embers of the winter nights.
Being the son of a supermodel and businessman never necessarily provided him with the introverted life he wanted to live, but now, as he distances them at the bold age of twenty-five, he finds himself slipping into who he would truly describe as Kim Seokjin.
This morning was no different than the ones he spent for the last few months, waking up in his king-sized bed with the morning glow of the sun peeking in through his room windows. His apartment was smaller than any space he had ever lived in, but it was cozy in a way that he appreciated a lot. Regardless, his mother didn’t approve. (She really never will.)
He rubs at his skin with gentle hands, body now upright as he slowly rolls his neck to slip out of the laze his long sleep had left him in. It was fairly early, but he knew that his agent would be ringing the doorbell to his apartment at any second.
The blue silk against his skin is something he appreciates greatly, the pants of his sleepwear acting as a warm hug against the windy nights the city of Seoul was currently experiencing. Just as he is about to walk into his kitchen for a mug of much needed coffee, the familiar ding of the bell startles him.
His manager, self-proclaimed best friend and life saver – Jung Hoseok, was someone he could truly never survive without. He’s acted as a guiding light to Seokjin ever since he began his career, and as someone with a naivete conscious, he was the only man to help him navigate through the treacherous waters of the modelling industry.
Pulling the smiley man into a warm hug, he smiled into his shoulder, “Morning, hyung.”
“Good morning,” Hoseok chirped back, engulfing his waist in a moment of familiarity that calmed him, and Seokjin could almost envision the bright smile that he would be plastering upon his face right now.
They shut the door behind him, and Seokjin continues his journey into the kitchen before he got previously detoured. Behind him, Hoseok pulls out his notepad and whistles lightly, “Well, Jinnie.” he tilts his head, “Big day today, huh?”
With a swift seat on the stool next to the kitchen island, Hoseok looks up at him with expectant eyes, waiting to gage how Seokjin felt.
“I know,” Seokjin shakes his head blowing out of his mouth like a fish would, the satisfying smell of roasted coffee beans creeping up his nose. “I mean, I don’t think it’s even registered yet.”
The coffee machine beeps behind him and he turns around to grab the black mug, taking a sip. The espresso glides down his throat, and he sighs with a substantial hum, the warmth spreading through his body to awaken his senses till he is no longer plagued by the dragged sleepiness. “It’s Gucci, hyung.” he bites his lip, apprehension tugging at his veins, “I can't mess up.”
Hoseok raises a skeptical eyebrow, as though to question the statement he just made, “You won't mess up.” he urges softly, voice subdued and convincing, “You rarely ever do. And even if you do, they won't cancel the contract.”
Seokjin snorts in response, but nods anyways. It’s not like Hoseok’s words dissipate the nervousness in the pit of his stomach, but the fact that someone like him believes in him so thoroughly makes his chest shine in unsaid honor. With a comfortable silence settling upon them, Seokjin places his cup of coffee on the marble stand.
“I didn’t think you were going to be concerned about Gucci.” Hoseok comments, pushing the ceramic mug towards himself to take a long sip. “Thought you’d be more nervous about, you know. Park Jimin.”
Seokjin stills, lips pressed together. He opens his mouth to find the words to say something, but he can't quite pinpoint the emotion he is experiencing.
Of course, he’s nervous about working with Park Jimin.
It’s Park Jimin, nation’s darling, who’s been a model since he was a young child with no dreams, Park Jimin. Park Jimin who’s worked with Seokjin’s own mom, has stolen the hearts of every company, modelling agency, and person across the globe. Park Jimin, who’s had a lifetime of experience under his belt that makes him model of the year for four consecutive years, who’s seen as the inspiration for each person wanting to divulge into the industry.
But most importantly… it’s Park Jimin who is unbelievably gorgeous, with plump lips that tint a perfect shade of red, with a body that is curved and crafted by Greek gods and an aura that captures the attention of every single person in the room. It’s Park Jimin, with the beautiful eyes and gentle smile, crooked front teeth and the confidence he carries himself with, making his voice heard and known.
Seokjin isn’t quite sure that he can handle himself.
He isn’t even sure of what it is; what to describe this infatuation he has with the model.
Seokjin and Jimin’s circle of friends never quite overlapped, but as Seokjin began signing bigger, more major deals; when the general public began to be more interested in his modeling career than the person he had by his side at the end of a drunken night, Seokjin realized that a day like this was not far – where he would have to work with Jimin, someone who he had admired for an extremely long period of time.
He just didn’t think it would come this soon.
He’d almost declined the offer from Gucci, if it weren’t from the encouraging words that Hoseok forced him to follow, he wouldn’t have been doing this at all.
This, being the face of the new winter collection alongside Jimin, headlining across the entire country.
“I don’t even know.” he laughs, although the sound definitively lacks the humor, “Feel like I’m about to throw up from the nerves of meeting him.”
Hoseok stands up behind Seokjin to press his fingers into the man’s back softly, “You’ll be just fine.” he pats his skin, “You’re a professional, Seokjin-ah. You’re good at this stuff. Now, how about you take a shower and I make some breakfast for you, yeah?”
Seokjin could only nod mindlessly, feeling the drag in his footsteps and splashing of cold water against his skin distracting him from the impending doom that he assumed would be the upcoming photoshoot.
He had to prepare himself – for not just meeting Jimin for the first time (save for the Milan fashion week where he saw said man across the hall and almost passed out), but also working with him.
+
The drive to Gucci’s Korean headquarters is shorter than Seokjin would like.
Nonetheless, he decides that he’s bothered Hoseok enough for today, choosing instead to keep his mouth shut and observe the moving scenery – the increase of flora and fauna as they neared the infamous building. The static sound of the distant cars buzzing across the streets evoke a sense of home within him – to be in the place he grew up in, and to create a career out of something he loved.
As expected, the cartoonishly high building they arrive at lacks in even a stinge of unprofessionalism, with every corner perfected in a minimalistic aesthetic that runs throughout, highlighting and accenting just enough. Despite the familiarity Seokjin had grown over the years, of expensive office buildings laced with glass, poshness and stern faces, coming to meet the executives of a company this huge was a mammoth task that Seokjin could barely stomach. A sense of anxiousness would build within him, and the feeling of being an imposter within these pristine walls would always engulf him with worries.
Stepping into a closed room, with older, more experienced employees as they brief and discuss negotiations of the photoshoot make his stomach tumble in fear. He hadn’t always been articulate with his words, usually not confident in what he said. That’s why Hoseok acted like such a life saver.
“We’re really glad you decided to work with us, Mr. Kim.” one of the older men, whose name Seokjin had immediately forgotten, “It’s always a delight to have the Kim legacy on Gucci. And now, paired with Mr. Park… it does mean the world to us.”
Seokjin nodded, inching the corners of his mouth upwards to agree out of sheer politeness, “It’s my pleasure, truly.” standing up and pushing his arm forward for him to shake, “I hope this is the first of many times.”
With a manufactured grin, they had left the conference room, the photoshoot now finalized and concreted in a way that Seokjin couldn’t possibly back out of, simply out of professionalism.
Reflecting upon the man’s words, Seokjin knows very well of what he meant – the Kim legacy was in reference to his mom being one of the many repeated ambassador for the brand. It was easy for Seokjin – booking jobs in big companies, they’d always wanted to work with him. His status as Kim Eunwoo’s son was something that trailed after him throughout his career, and he expects will continue to do so, whether he liked it or not. Modelling agencies wanted their grubby hands on his career simply due to the weight his name carried – every huge company wanted that, the symbol that came with signing a previously acclaimed supermodel’s son.
Seokjin didn’t exactly want a part in it, though.
And so, he didn’t. He started small, just like any other beginning model would, and hopefully, the woes of accusations of nepotism aside, would establish a name for himself that wouldn’t stem just from being somebody’s son. Maybe, one day he’ll be recognized as simply his own person.
With a shake of his head, he rids himself of the melancholic thoughts, choosing to focus on the granite floor beneath him, beginning the taxing job of mentally preparing himself for the string of photoshoots that have occupied his mind for longer than he can even begin to describe.
He feels Hoseok’s arm wrap around his waist in a gentle squeeze, the dimples on his chin settling the worrying thoughts aside, “Everything’s settled then, huh?”
Seokjin chuckles, “Guess so.” he shakes his head, “There’s not an ounce of possibility that I could have done this without you. You know that right?”
Hoseok only grins brighter, “Aw, Seokjinnie. Of – “
“Kim Seokjin!”
The sudden callout of his name startles him, ears picking up the sound that voiced from behind him. As he turns around to assess the source, he freezes, body rigid.
His mouth falls open, sweat forming in the crevices of his hands, with eyes as wide as saucers, as they observe Park Jimin walking towards him.
He was clearly not prepared for this.
Hoseok lets go of his hold on his waist, and Jimin trudges towards them with a bright smile contoured by angels themselves, gracing his face. With a step forward, he stops in front of Seokjin until a respectable distance forms between them, and extends his hand in the form of a greeting.
Seokjin tries not to let himself get distracted by the way his honey tan skin looks mesmerizing, even under the harsh glow of the industrial lights attached to the ceilings, or the way his eyes shine a little lighter, full of wonder and appreciation as he looks onto Seokjin.
With unexpected ease, Seokjin slides his hand into Jimin’s, feelings his soft skin taut against his own, his grip firm and meaningful, “Park Jimin.” he beams, brighter than the sun, as if he needed an introduction.
“Kim Seokjin,” he reciprocates simply, fingers curling in on themselves as they mourn the loss of warmth that Jimin’s palm previously pressed against them once did. He pauses, realization clear on his face as he frowns, his ears burning red under the protection of his hair, “You… already know that.” he says dumbly, instantly regretting the tone he voices out his thoughts.
Surprisingly, Jimin responds with wholesome laughter, shaking his head, “I do, I do.” he twinkles, “I saw you, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to say hello before we actually began shooting.”
“I’m – I’m glad you did, really.” Seokjin chuckles lightly, the heat making its way across his cheeks, “It’s an honor to be working with you.”
“I feel the exact same way.” Jimin responds, before sparing a quick glance to his watch, “I wish I could talk more, but I’ve got to run for a meeting,”
“Oh, yeah!” Seokjin exclaims, “Of course, please, be on your way. It was really, really good to meet you.”
Jimin nods in acknowledgment, turning around to walk away, before he pauses briefly, glancing at Seokjin again. With a rosy smile on his face, he adds, “I look forward to working with you, Seokjin-ssi. Truly.”
Before Seokjin can formulate an equally gratitude-filled response, Jimin walks away with swift steps, presumably to commence the meeting he had mentioned earlier.
“See!” Hoseok’s voice interrupts his train of thoughts, as the man gives him an encouraging pat on the back, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
“Yeah.” Seokjin responds dumbly, nodding in agreement, “It… really wasn’t.”
Hoseok instantly begins rambling about the great job he had done and will continue to do, Seokjin can't help but be fixated on the instant ease he felt when conversing with Jimin. Maybe it had been his friendly smile or charming aura that had put him at such blissful ease, but now, he felt his heart thump out of excitement for the photoshoot, the previous nervousness dissolving into an eagerness to talk to Jimin again.
+
The day of the photoshoot comes around earlier than he realizes, with his mind pre-occupied on ways to keep himself calm – just like he would before any shoot.
Shutting out the world in order to perform his best is something that Seokjin is used to doing – simply using it as a mechanism that enables himself to focus on only one thing. Distractions and handicaps are always present to take him away and ruin his state of mind, but after doing the same routine over and over again, he learns to grow into the pre-shoot habits that he had always heard his mother rave on and on about ever since he was a young child.
The matchstick in his hand lights the Japanese incense plucked onto the stand, the smell of cherry blossoms and pink roses wafting through his changing room, like always, races to calm his nerves down into reaching a point of utter relaxation where he doesn’t much bother him, at all. The scent makes him let out a low sound of satisfaction, high pitched with bliss coursing through his veins.
“Pre-shoot ritual?”
A voice interrupts from the front door, and his eyes travel up to Jimin leaning against the door, the same toothy grin plastered on his face.
“Something like that,” Seokjin smiles as well, a little embarrassed that Jimin had caught him in the state that he had been in.
Jimin chuckles, entering the room with his arms by his side, “I have those, too.” As Seokjin looks at him with expectant eyes, and Jimin pulls the end of his robe to point to his feet, adorned by bright yellow woolen socks.
Seokjin bursts into giggles, growing fonder by the never-ending endearing habits the man seemed to have, “Socks?”
“The softest pair of socks you’ll ever wear.” Jimin corrects pointedly, smiling teasingly.
Seokjin nods, “Wouldn’t question that.”
“I just popped in to say hello,” Jimin explains, pointing to the room. “Figured it’s good to build chemistry before the shoot begins.”
His choice of words deepens the blush on his face and he nods furiously, “Of course, yeah.” he finds himself stumbling over his words, tongue slipping, “You look, uh. Really beautiful.”
He finds himself saying the words he’d been thinking ever since Jimin had entered the room. Seokjin assumed by the color on his face that his make-up had been done. It wasn’t anything extravagant, he observed, save for the kohl and shimmering eye shadow lined along the waterline of his eyes. He willed himself to not look at the gorgeous lips, that he was sure had been glittered with a lip gloss that made Seokjin want to take a cold shower.
“So do you.” Jimin replies, voice a little softer. He moves a strand of Seokjin’s bangs away from his face, staring deeply into his eyes. Under the harrowing gaze, Seokjin feels his limbs turn into putty, entranced and hot.
With a step backwards, Jimin moves away, “Anyways, I won't bother you anymore.” he shakes his head with a sarcastic roll of his eyes, “All the best, yeah?”
Seokjin nods, although his mind is successfully hazy with the trance Jimin’s words, body, and presence had put him in. With a haphazard thumbs up and a stuttering break a leg thrown in the younger’s face, he presses the palm of his hand to feel the way his heartbeat leaped out of his chest; increasing at a pace that can only be considered alien. He wonders if Jimin had been able to hear the way he made his chest heave.
Staring at himself in the mirror, his stomach twists into knots – more unfamiliar with the anxious ones he was used to experiencing before a shoot. This feeling, though, felt more like a tingling in the back of his throat. With his reddened face and successfully and severely affected body heat, Seokjin determines that Jimin has a more serious effect on him than he could have ever even imagined.
+
Shooting is, in a way, a nightmare of sorts.
There’s usually a very small list of things that actually definitely bother Seokjin – ruin a shoot for him.
The staff, mishaps, rudeness, last minute changes and lack of Hoseok is usually the only thing that can make him severely distracted and lose sight of what he came to do.
It seems that a new something must be added to the list.
Because this time, it is not the photographers (a lovely professional who goes by the name of Namjoon is heading the photoshoot, and one look determined that there was no way Seokjin would doubt his capabilities), not the makeup artists, and not any changes that affect him. It’s simply the existence of Park Jimin.
He’s dressed in a warm skirt and coat set, looking appropriately lavish, and elegant, exuding a certain intricate level of professionalism that screams sophistication. Everything about him is perfect – from his babydoll heeled shoes, to the creamy white socks that reach his knee, leaving his smooth tan skin in display until the fuzzy skirt begins, reaching up to be tucked into a soft sweater that matches his socks. The mini coat finishes the outfit in a way that just makes so much sense, especially for someone like Jimin, who…
Who looks unbelievable stunning, beauty dripping off of every step he takes. The flexing muscle of his thigh, and the way his back arches and curves around his wonderous ass, leaves Seokjin’s throat parched.
When their eyes meet, a part of Seokjin wonders if he’s had the same effect on Jimin.
As the younger rakes his thigh over Seokjin’s figure, from the sheer black stockings pressing against his long legs, to the coat-like leather dress that wraps around his waist, accentuating the already tiny figure. With his broad shoulders adorned by the form-fitting material, and the way the metal in his belt drops down to his knee, his usually tall height now even taller with his black heels he –
He wants to have the same effect on Jimin. Wants Jimin to feel the way he does – experiencing the primal and absolutely feral need to press against Jimin and kiss him till their jaws are sore, bask in the warmth of each other and melt their bodies into one single mess of limbs.
“You didn’t disappoint.” Jimin murmurs, as they position themselves for the camera to begin snapping.
Seokjin has to press his fingers together to stop the smile from appearing on his face.
Posing comes very naturally to Jimin.
Sub-consciously or consciously, much to Seokjin’s delight, Jimin is happy to take the lead in positioning himself in a cohesive way that streamlines with the exact aesthetic that someone like Gucci, expects. There’s rarely any prompting from the photographers themselves, because models like Jimin own the shoot.
And now, as he follows along in the way Jimin places and presents himself, he understands why the simplistic backdrop – presented with nothing but a few auburn chests and vases of rustic flowers – is what was given to them. Because Jimin’s charm doesn’t require anything else. Simply his beauty and grace are enough to carry the whole room, doing so in a way that actually enables the products he is modelling to shine brighter.
Despite his insides swarming with pleasure at the beautiful pictures he knows will be the outcome of the shoot, there is not a way he would want to appear uninterested.
So, in a moment of fueling his own confidence with the extravagance dripping off of Jimin, he gently tugs the younger to turn himself. The continual camera snapping stops for a moment, as they shift from standing next to each other to now having Seokjin’s chest pressed firmly against Jimin’s back, hand placed on his lower abdomen. Out of instinct, despite the low gasp of surprise that puffs out of Jimin, he leans in deeper, legs spread in a more organized manner, his own palm covering Seokjin’s.
The feeling of having Jimin pressed up against him ignites a fire in his mind, one that he is sure Jimin feels too.
A few tantalizing moments later, it is Jimin who decides to change they way they are posing. Now facing each other, he presses a tender hand to hold Seokjin’s waist, the elder moving them up to wrap around his neck. Seokjin titters closer, feeling Jimin’s knee brush up against his, he lets go of his neck to grip his waist, moving it lower, until he feels a firmer, more confident grip against the curve of his ass.
When their eyes meet, Seokjin feels his skin burn hotter than it has before. If he spots a smile bordering onto a smirk curved onto Jimin’s face, he doesn’t say anything, despite every instinct inside him that screams at him to leave the room to a more private location.
Touching Jimin – holding him close till their breaths mingle is a blissful feeling of pleasure that disintegrates and clings on to the dopamine and adrenaline pumping inside his brain. A rush of extreme unfelt emotions, as Jimin progresses through the shoot with an ease in his steps, this time pressing Seokjin against his stern chest – he feels raw and unfiltered need for Jimin surpassing every other instinct he possesses. The tension runs across the room, and suddenly it feels as though a desert has formed despite the freezing weather outside, and just as Jimin pulls him even closer, till their lips brush against each other, and as Seokjin thinks he might just press into the kiss –
The shoot is over, and Namjoon decides that a surplus of overwhelmingly good shots have been taken.
Jimin pulls away from him, and Namjoon walks towards them with nothing but praise on the tip of his tongue, encouraging the wonderful performance and chemistry that carried the shoot.
(It’s not as though Seokjin can understand, anyways. He finds himself a little busier, lost in the curve of Jimin’s thighs.)
The next shoot, in comparison, though, reigns in a greater level of difficulty than the previous one.
Simply because Jimin’s clothing left very little to the imagination – the black garter strapped onto the sky-ish grey stockings, and the simple satin shirt that rests till his mid-thigh. Despite a bigger, bulkier black coat that hangs until longer than the shirt, the fabric doesn’t do much to cover Jimin’s glorious body. (Seokjin believes he has a serious love and hate relationship with Gucci, and the clothes they design.)
Despite his own self-conscious tugging on his plaid tulip mini skirt, with no protection for his bare thighs, now exposed to the world in full glory, Seokjin finds himself in a more eased out state.
Shooting on a couch is a fun change of scenery for him, but he finds it easy to adapt, just like Jimin does. This photoshoot is easier to get through – mostly due to the way his brain unfocuses itself from his surrounding to nothing but the feeling of Jimin against his skin – when he crosses his legs and makes Seokjin lean onto him, lay on his lap and spread his legs onto his thighs, all while the mildly sultry look on his face never changes. Seokjin becomes pliant under the way Jimin directs his body, not coming from a place of seniority or authority that Jimin places over him, but simply the comfort he feels when Jimin is able to take control.
Every touch and every brush of their skin together leaves Seokjin of a taunting feel of what he thinks he’s been missing all his life, nothing being more fulfilling than the way his thigh blooms into a ruby red as Jimin places his hand against the skin.
He, and in his mind, Jimin as well, don’t miss a chance to keep their hands off each other’s body. If Seokjin can find a way to press his soft hands onto Jimin’s structured body, he won't miss it – simply because of how desirable the man was, with the way he moved and took control of his body, and the way he had no problem touching Seokjin, either. This, he knows, right in the middle of the photoshoot, crosses the terms between the intricacies of professionalism for him, and it’s so fascinating to see someone like Jimin work their way through the reins of a photoshoot.
It has Seokjin more excited than he could possibly admit.
To his dismay, the shoot ends fairly early. This had probably been one of the shortest times he’d devoted for a whole photoshoot, but the fact that the days were spread out over a long week and a half-made sense for the short timings.
(Besides, getting to see Jimin everyday is a treat within itself.)
Nevertheless, he bids everyone on the set goodbye, including a half hug and handshake situation with Jimin, which only had him turning red due to the awkwardness.
“You looked hot today.” Hoseok says, the moment he walks into his dressing room, making Seokjin laugh. Said man walks over to him with a proud grin on his face, and Seokjin smiles, “You think so?”
“Seokjin-ah, you always look good.” he sighs, digging his fingers into the crevices in his shoulders. Seokjin sighs out loudly, a feeling of bliss and relaxation taking over him.
“I like working with him,” he hums, cracking one eye open, as he looks up at Hoseok, “I want to do it again.”
“Of course, Mr. Big Shot.” Hoseok chuckles, shaking his head with fondness. He pauses for a moment, squeezing his neck, “I hope you know I'm very proud of you.”
Seokjin places his hand over Hoseok’s, squeezing lightly, “I know.”
The door opens with a brief knock, and the last person Seokjin expects to find is Jimin, staring with an expression that mirrored nothing short of horror, “Shit! Shit – am I – am I interrupting something?”
“Oh my god!” Seokjin jumps off his seat and so does Hoseok, sporting similar expressions to that of Jimin, “No – I mean, hi, what’s up?”
“I’m just going to go grab a coffee,” Hoseok says suddenly, walking out of the room with brisk movements, not forgetting to wink at Seokjin before he left.
“Oh, well nothing much, I was just,” Jimin shrugs, “I was thinking, maybe if you're free we could grab some dinner? Hit a bar?”
“That would be amazing!” Seokjin gasps, insides fluttering with the prospect of spending more time with Jimin. The enthusiasm makes Jimin grin, clapping his hands together.
“Alright, then!” Jimin giggles, “There’s this amazing place I know, and it’s right around the block. I could drive?”
“Perfect.” Seokjin motions a thumbs up in the air, “Just, give me a second, alright? I just need to change.” he chuckles, pointing at the clothes from the photoshoot he still hadn’t taken off.
“Wear the same thing.” Jimin shrugs, “Who cares? I know I am.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah!” Jimin looks at him incredulously, rolling his eyes in a carefree manner. He grabs Seokjin’s arms, directing him out of the room, “And if they want the clothes back, we can always just throw a good excuse in there.” he winks mischievously, and suddenly, Seokjin thinks that he’s falling in love all over again.
+
Getting to know Jimin, is, perhaps, even better than shooting with him.
“Tell me a little bit about yourself.” he asks, taking a sip of his whiskey. Jimin must have very good taste, because the restaurant feels amazing – its vibe, and general elegancy makes Seokjin think that it’s a place that would suit Jimin, being somewhere he would visit a lot.
“You can find whatever you need on the internet.” Seokjin snorts, shaking his head, pulling the straw of his lemon drop into his mouth.
“I’ve been in this game for long, mister,” Jimin squints his eyes in suspicion, with amusement laced in his words. “And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that tabloids are always lying.”
Chugging the rest of his drink down his throat, he slams the glass onto the table, leaning against the black leather of his chair, “So, please. Tell me about yourself. About Kim Seokjin.”
Seokjin bites his lip to keep himself from laughing, because he’s just so damn fond of the man in front of him. Everything about him just screams a flawed perfection – where Jimin is aware he isn’t perfect (it’s not like anyone truly is) but he doesn’t try to act like he is.
Jimin is real; he’s human, and that’s hard for Seokjin to find nowadays.
“Well, hi. I’m Kim Seokjin, and I’ve been living in the shadow of my mom since the beginning of my career.” he sighs, smiling softly, “I'm happy that I've found the guts to actually model. I'm an introverted bean and unlike what the tabloids tell you – “ he winks, “I've only ever dated two people.”
The introduction makes Jimin laugh, head thrown back. He shakes his head, and suddenly his amused eyes shift to something a little more understanding, a kind sympathy laced in between them, “It must be hard, huh? Always living up to your mother’s expectations.”
“It… it is.” Seokjin nods, because he isn’t going to deny the fact that it does get pretty hard for him sometimes. At the same time, he would never fail to not acknowledge his privilege and advantages, “But, I can't even imagine being in all this – “ he makes a circular motion with his hands, as though to indicate the modelling industry, “ – ever since you were a child.”
“You get used to it.” Jimin shrugs, and Seokjin wonders if it’s hard for him to talk about it, “It was a terror when I was a kid. Absolute shit show. But, now?”
He smiles at Seokjin, and the way his mouth lifts into its corners actually make him believe that it’s a genuine emotion, “It’s helped me. All that knowledge, wisdom. It’s good, for the future.”
Seokjin nods, wishing to know more about Jimin, to pry open into the beauty that is his life and learn every nook and cranny about what resides in his brain. In retrospect, it indicates how totally enamored Seokjin is with Jimin, btu he also doesn’t want to come off as too desperate or clingy; Jimin doesn’t seem like the type to like that.
“But, relationships, yeah?” Jimin winks teasingly, licking his lips. “You're in one? Right now?”
“Oh, gosh no.” Seokjin shakes his head, “But, I might have my eyes on someone.” the teasing connotation of his statement has him breathing softly, suddenly a lot more aware of the fact that Jimin is sitting in front of him, “What about… you?”
“Just living the single life,” he shakes his head laughing. After a brief pause, he laughs awkwardly, pink brushed across his cheeks, “I thought you were, maybe dating your manager.”
At that, the only appropriate reaction Seokjin finds is to burst out laughing.
It startles Jimin, as well, but Seokjin can't help but be very amused at the implication that he and Hoseok might cross the line beyond professionality. Of course, Hoseok is also a friend, a very good one, at that, but for it to be something different… and not-platonic just doesn’t seem like him and Hoseok, at all.
“No – no! My gosh, no, I wouldn’t – we wouldn’t ever – no,” his voice is coming out in broken sentences, but Jimin has gotten the gist of his words, and seems to enjoy Seokjin’s amused state as well. When he’s quietened down, he bites his lip, looking at Jimin with a certain boldness coursing through his veins, “Besides.” he clears his throat, “He’s not my type. Like, at all.”
Jimin looks at him, with almost the same fierceness reflecting in his thoughts, as if he can read Seokjin’s mind, or is feeling the way Seokjin is.
“I'm going to order more drinks.” he replies, voice teasingly confident.
Seokjin had always had a fear of awkward silences taking over a conversation, with them running out of things to talk about. It simply stemmed from the idea that nothing would ever make him exciting enough or interesting enough, and that he must always have a story up his sleeve, or something to talk about, because anything but that would be negative.
With Jimin, though, it’s just… different.
They never really stop talking, because they have a lot in common and it’s easy to converse about those things – similar life experiences, thoughts, ideas, and interests, makes for an easy way to become closer to Jimin. But, even if they find themselves in moments where they’re not engaged in conversation, Seokjin never once experiences an ounce of awkwardness, like he is obliged to say something. A comfortable silence passes over them, and Seokjin decides that said feeling is the best emotion to experience in the world.
The mood between them changes once Jimin suggests that they should dance together.
There’s a bunch of sweaty bodies around them, and the flashy music and loud noises isn’t something that Seokjin is into, but being there with Jimin builds a halo around him – a light tunnel that makes him focus on only him. Just him, and it’s everything he’d never thought he wanted but it feels so good, with the radio pop music and Jimin’s body pressed against his.
His hands on Jimin’s waist as the younger pulls him closer, their alcohol laced breathes mingling together and the way he presses their bodies closer together until they morph into one. It’s hard to keep his hands off of Jimin, and all Seokjin wants to have is more, to get closer and to get deeper because Jimin was bright, loud, cautious and beautiful at the same time, and the way he presented himself was so magical.
And, when Jimin grabs him by the collar and asks him to go over to his place, Seokjin can't help but feel his heart leap out of his chest.
+
Jimin’s house, in a way, is everything he expected from him.
It’s large, and big, flashy with the expensive items on each corner, but modest enough that it feels warm enough to be home. With its monochrome walls and Chanel decorations, Seokjin can't help but grin at the prospect of how adorably predictable Jimin was.
Nonetheless, he has little time to sit and observe the details and wonderful qualities in Jimin’s house, because the moment they step in, Jimin has him pressed against the front door.
He groans into Jimin’s mouth due to the impact on the back of his head, which is mostly ignored by how phenomenal his lips feel against his. The plumpness of them both results in a bouncy and giggly kiss, his hands travelling lower and lower until they rise up the satin of his shirt, feeling the mesh of the stockings, and the blooming abs on his abdomen.
Jimin isn’t quite shy either, his own hands taking no time to squeeze Seokjin’s ass over his skirt, feeling every inch of skin that is bare to him. He’s the one who easily takes control of the kiss, arms around Seokjin’s shoulders as he licks into his lips, pushing in until he can feel Seokjin’s tongue against his.
Every touch and every kiss is searing, and it leaves a stinging burn of fire in Seokjin, one only Jimin can put out.
They reach the bedroom haphazardly, random articles of clothing discarded on the floor. They fall onto the bed, on the silk sheets, facing each other with desire dripping off of each other.
Jimin caresses Seokjin’s jaw with a tender touch, staring into his eyes, “Hi.”
“Hi.” Seokjin whispers back, hand around Jimin’s hip.
“I enjoyed tonight,” he murmurs, glancing at Seokjin’s lips again, “a lot.”
“Me too,” Seokjin grins back, squeezing his hip as a way of reassurance. He pulls in closer, lips against Jimin’s forehead. “Wanna sleep?”
“Mhm.” Jimin nods, humming as he opens his arms for Seokjin to cuddle into him, who happily obliges, drifting off to a land of warmth, love, and everything Jimin.
+
When Seokjin wakes up, it’s to the smell of fresh pancakes and chocolatey goodness.
He stumbles out of Jimin’s bedroom, only to be greeted by Jimin’s hand on his waist.
“Good morning,” he sighs happily, content with waking up to the wonderful vibes of Jimin’s resident.
“Morning,” Jimin giggles. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, next to you.” he chuckles, and Jimin leans up to press a kiss to his lips.
“Hey.” Jimin says again.
“Hey,” Seokjin responds, cupping his fact gently. He rests his forehead against Jimin’s, smiling beside his lips. “Be my boyfriend, please.”
Namjoon felt especially stressed with the sudden announcement of the photoshoot, but he was a professional – a professional who loved a challenge.
But then again, working with the two biggest models was never really a challenge.
A part of him felt proud, as they walked out in white body-con satin dresses; he knew, from the chemistry in their first shoot that it couldn’t possibly stay strictly professional. It just wouldn’t work.
And now, as everyone screamed collective congratulations to the couple at hand, he readied himself to bring back the same chemistry from five years ago, only with a married couple this time.