Chapter Text
There was nothing Jimin hated more than being awaken against his own will. Yet here he was, at fucking five thirty something in the morning, sprawling in the middle of the running track on the dirty ground after doing his 79th pushups, still in the clothes he slept on last night.
After almost four weeks being forced to enter the army training center, he was finally accustomed to being woken up at six in the morning by the loud orotund voice that belonged to Satan himself also known as Second Lieutenant slash Sergeant Jeon Jungkook. Although, on the first few days, one of his squad members was given the honor to rouse Jimin up from his slumber by pouring a bucket of cold water onto him.
His heart was hammering violently against his chest and though the sun had not completely risen yet, he could hear the smirk in Jungkook’s voice when he said, “Come on, princess. One more and you’re done.”
“Fuck off.” He almost felt the words working their way to his lips, but he was thankfully able to hold it back or else, he would only be giving Jungkook another reason to torment him more.
With an exaggerated grunt, he pushed his whole body up with his hands, arms shaking and when he managed to lift his whole body up, he yelled out, “EIGHTY!” before his wobbly arms stopped supporting his weight.
Despite his good looks and the boyish charm he radiated, Sergeant Jeon was a grade A shithead.
He heard the things his comrades whispered behind Jungkook’s back. Apparently, the son of a bitch had reputation. Even that one dude from the Navy, whom Jimin had met during their physical checkups, had actually muttered something Jimin refused to care about the young sergeant when Jungkook had passed by them when they were waiting for their turns.
“Good job, princess. Now rest a bit, yeah? In—” Jungkook paused to glance at the watch on his wrist, “— twenty three minutes, it’s the usual.”
The usual aka running fifteen laps.
Jimin groaned out loud, bringing his arm on his face as he rested his hand on his forehead, not even bothering to wipe the trickling sweat away. He was well aware with the fact that his arms were sweaty and there were sand sticking on them but right now, that was the least of his concern. The Jimin four weeks ago would make a huge fuss about being dirty but this was better than running laps after doing pushups.
■■■
Jimin knew he would eventually be forced to enlist into the army but he never thought of being recruited at the age of twenty six.
He was at the States with no intention of returning to Korea at all. He even considered applying as an American citizen just so he would not be enlisted. Call him a traitor, but he had read a lot of articles regarding militaries sexual assault and regardless of being a proud homosexual himself, he knew he would be an easy target for those hormonal bastards.
For starters, Jimin was pretty. He claimed that it was a fact, not an opinion. And even though he had the goddamn looks, the ass that was to die for and abs that would make Adonis cry, he was lacking in the height department.
In other words, he was small.
(He would protest by saying that he was fun-sized or that every guy around him was just tall as fuck, but deep down he knew that he was short.)
If it was not for his Drunken Skype Confession, he would not have gotten himself into this mess.
(Drunken Skype Confession: That incident where Park Jimin was supposed to be organizing and managing budgets and financial plans but instead he decided to throw a last-minute party with a few of his friends and consume not one, not two, not three either but four bottles of expensive alcohol and pressed the green ‘accept call’ button on Skype when his father wanted to discuss about some dumb hotel-related things)
He was not sure what exactly he had said to his father, but it was enough for his father to drag his ass all the way back to Korea and enlist him to military as soon as he landed. Of course, Jimin received the ‘You’re-An-Impossible-Brat’ and ‘Grow-The-Fuck-Up’ and ‘Use-Your-Fucking-Brain-For-Once’ speech from his father before he was officially accepted to the training center.
In all honesty, Jimin was so damn close to faking it just so he could get away.
Then, he learnt that he will only be exempted if he at least did not have one index finger. As much as he did not want to torture his body and waking up early in the morning, he loved his finger more (sure, there are always toys but).
Jimin knew how difficult he had been but he never asked to manage a goddamn five-star hotel in the first place. He had been so careful all these times, sneaking out to a party without his father knowing and replacing the water with beer during business meetings but who knew it only took him a fucking green button to fuck up his life.
He decided that his father must be so done with him for almost screwing up the hotel’s budget that he decided to get rid of Jimin for a while by sending him to hell. Literally.
Taehyung, that bastard who promised to enlist together with Jimin, only bid Jimin a good bye through Skype. Jimin’s mother had been holding his phone the whole time, letting the screen face Jimin so Taehyung could see Jimin in his stupid ugly uniform. That son of a bitch even had the guts to laugh when he saw Jimin’s hair.
His tangerine hair was dyed black under his father’s command. It took Jimin’s dignity and shameless begging for his father not to shave his head, and his father, perhaps had a heart after all because he did not. Jimin shaved the sides of his head, keeping his bangs – which unfortunately were cut extremely short to Jimin’s liking when he officially entered the center. Apparently, bangs were not allowed. He was still lucky he was not bald though, he did not know what he would do without his hair.
But frankly, being bald would probably be a thousand times better than being assigned to be under Jeon Jungkook’s monitoring division.
■■■
Jeon Jungkook was probably sculpted by the Gods (or Satan, Jimin was not really sure) themselves. With jawlines that were to die for and huge piercing brown eyes that could kill, he was literally blessed in the looks department. For someone who had been in the training center his whole life (because his father was a general officer), Jungkook had gorgeous tanned skin.
Jimin would never admit it, but his lips were probably his cutest feature. His upper lip was thinner than the bottom, and his large bunny teeth always made their appearance when he yelled out ridiculous commands or insults. Jimin wondered if his lips were as soft as they look.
He had his suspicions that his father might have bribed Jungkook to make Jimin’s life a living hell during his stay because Jungkook was always keeping an eye on him. If he make the slightest mistake during training, for example: one of his jumps during jumping jacks are not high enough, Jungkook would call him out and ask him to redo the jumping jacks all over again.
It was just his goddamn luck that Jungkook was the sergeant for his squad. There were thirteen of them altogether. Jimin was expecting to have difficulty in making friends but thanks to the one thing they had in common, all of them were united as one.
And the one thing they had in common? Hating Jeon Jungkook with passion.
Seokmin was this good looking guy with a dumb smile who actually knew a lot more about Jungkook than the others combined. All of the squad members were older than Jungkook, but age did not seem to scare Jungkook just because he had the higher power.
It was on their third night, when all of them began to open up with each other. It all started when Jinyoung let out an unintentional, “I hope that brat dies” after Jungkook made them run extra laps and then all of a sudden, everyone was crowding Jinyoung and giving him a tight hug despite their cramps.
“Finally! Someone said it!” Hyunwoo cried.
Jimin learnt from Seokmin that Jungkook was a second lieutenant and he was not supposed to be their sergeant at all, but the sergeant that was assigned to monitor their squad was kicked out for they had found steroids in his blood stream and not being able to find a replacement in such short time, Jungkook had to replace him at the last minute.
When the news reached their ears, all of them groaned in unison. Jimin wanted to fling himself off the tallest cliff because he could not believe his luck.
Sure, he was lucky to get an eyeful of Jungkook’s thick thighs (good lord, Jimin wanted to lick them) and the way his pants were sometimes tight around certain area and god, his arms— but, it still did not change the fact that Jungkook loved to order his squad members around. When Seokmin broke out the news to them that Jungkook was only twenty four (twenty four and he was already a sergeant slash second lieutenant. How the bloody fuck?), making him younger than all of them – including Seokmin, and both of them were the same age – only made the squad hate him more.
“He’s only sergeant lieutenant because he has connections,” Jinyoung scoffed, crossing his arms as he rested his back against the headboard of his bed.
“Obviously,” Seungcheol agreed.
There was this small part of Jimin that disagreed because unlike other sergeants, Jungkook actually ran with them and he did jumping jacks with them — he actually did every single thing with them.
He groaned inaudibly.
He was not supposed to defend Jungkook.
■■■
Okay, so, Jimin might be attracted to the young sergeant.
How can Jimin not be attracted to Jungkook? Despite his shit eating grin and irrational reasons of trying to make Jimin suffer, he was still a beautiful man.
They had a soccer competition that afternoon against the 4th squad which was led by Sergeant Choi after learning the Seven Army Core Values. The Gods had blessed Jimin’s squad with Taekwoon and Yoseob, who were gifted with the talent to play soccer.
Jimin, who was totally hopeless in soccer, got all riled up when they were betting for choco pies and colas. Choco pies were not exactly Jimin’s favourite. Back then, if he were to found an untouched packet of choco pie on the street, he would have kicked it or just stepped on it. But now, he would do anything for one packet of choco pie.
The meals that were provided were no joke. They were all shit. Even that thing they called ‘hamburger’ was shit. Jimin never knew hamburgers could taste that bad.
The first time he received his tray of food, Jimin wanted to lie down on the ground, kick his feet in air and scream for real food because tofu and anchovies were not real food. Not according to Jimin anyways. He was so used to having toasts, steaks, Actual Hamburgers and anything other than the shit food in the cafeteria. Now, he cried when he remembered that one time he had wasted one bread toast.
Which is why, Jimin was trying his hardest to run around the field, pretending to chase a stupid ball while silently praying for the ball to never come to his direction. He knew with Yoseob and Taekwoon in his team, they would win no matter what. Sergeant Choi’s face darkened every time Taekwoon scored a goal while Jungkook’s would nod in approvement.
Jimin wanted to walk over to Sergeant Choi, pat him on the shoulder sympathetically and said, “I feel you, bro” because he knew how irritating it would be to have a younger man being a step ahead of you.
Jimin made the biggest mistake in his life when he glanced at Jungkook, whose bright eyes were alight as if stars were trapped inside them and his lips curved into a huge grin that he never ever showed to them, when Yoseob managed to score a nice goal. At that moment, Jimin swore he saw lights shining from heaven and the angels begin singing.
The next thing he knew, he was face first on the ground.
He knew from the way Jungkook was breathing heavily through his nose and from the way his lips were pursed tightly to form a straight line that the young sergeant was pissed. They were at the sick bay, Dr. Seokjin assured that Jimin was fine and Jimin begged to differ because his fucking ankle hurt like a fucking bitch. He would have snapped right there and then, but Dr. Seokjin had been a nice man who was generous in giving warm smiles so he decided that he was against it.
The last person he wanted to piss off was a person who knew what medicine to give to you.
“I’m gonna grab an ibuprofen from the storage room,” Dr. Seokjin informed. “Can’t believe Nurse Hoseok forgot to restock it again,” he muttered under his breath.
Jungkook thanked Dr. Seokjin before giving Jimin a pointed look. “How, in the name of God, you manage to sprain your ankle when you’re so fucking far from the ball is beyond me. What the fuck were you thinking?”
‘It’s because of you, you dipshit.’
“Look, Park Jimin, I get that you’re some bloody heir of a businessman and you managed to fucking own a hotel or whatever, but you’re in army now and no family connection is going to help you here, do you get me?”
And this was the moment when Jimin was certain that yes, indeed, his father must have told Jungkook what an incompetent moron Jimin was because what type of sergeant would know certain information about the recruits? It was not that the sergeant was given their personal files in the first place anyways.
It was also at this moment that Jimin felt a surge of indignation towards Jungkook because how dare he say that.
“Then, we’re not any different, aren’t we, Lieutenant?” Jimin gritted the words through his teeth, putting as much venom as possible into the last word.
Silence fell over them for a moment, and Jimin watched as a variety of different emotions washed over his face. Jimin wanted to take the nearest tray next to him and slam it right onto Jungkook’s head because how dare this motherfucker say that when it was his fault Jimin sprained his ankle in the first place.
Jungkook cocked an eyebrow. He was taken aback by his reply. He never told his squad members his real position so how?
“What the fu—”
Jimin did not give any chance to listen to what Jungkook had to say because he hopped off the bed (and tried not to wince in pain because fucking hell, it hurt) and limped his way towards the exit as fast as he could.
“Ya, Park Jimin, stop right there!”
“Make me, Lieutenant!” Jimin yelled back. He bit his lip as he increased his speed, careful trying not to let a pained wince escaping his mouth.
Jungkook only watched as Jimin pathetically limped further and further away from him. A part of him wanted to catch up to Jimin and demanded 25 pushups (that was a generous amount, he thought, seeing that he twisted his ankle), but instead, he only stood in the middle of the sick bay, staring dumbly at Jimin’s back that was only getting further and further away from him.
■■■
He had totally forgotten about the choco pies.
Jimin managed to not cry when he reached their compartment, and he silently congratulated himself for managing to lift himself up to the nearest bed. He did not give a fuck if Jaebum was going to yell at him for taking his bed, but surely Jaebum would understand.
He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at nothing in particular as he recalled the harsh words Jungkook had delivered.
Out of all the painful things Jungkook had asked him to do, nothing hurt most than the words he had just said. He was saying it as if he had known Jimin since forever. The two barely talk, unless when they argue, and to say something so personal… God, Jimin wanted to strangle his thick neck. He cursed his father at the back of his head, for actually mentioning whatever he had mentioned to Jungkook like it was something to talk about.
Family connection, my ass!
Even if he had a family connection, at least his exam results were satisfying. Any other hotel would definitely hire him for his excellent skills. It just so happened that those skills were overshadowed by how he chose to present himself.
He tried to forget how fast his heart had been beating when Jungkook hooked his arms under Jimin’s legs— how he had carried Jimin hurriedly to the sick bay and fuck, he realized that he might be really really really attracted to Jungkook. (After all, his smile was the reason Jimin fall) ((Literally.))
“Well, shit,” he muttered to himself.
He did not have to watch the game to know that his squad had won, even when there were only twelve of them. Besides, it was not like Jimin contributed to anything at all – most of the time he would just pretend he could play. His squad had entered their compartment with loud cheers, and Seokmin was holding a huge plastic bag which unmistakably contained choco pies.
“We won!!” Hyungwon screamed.
Despite their screams of excitement, it was evident by how tired they were. Jaebum did not even have the strength left to throw Jimin to his own bed and Jinyoung was already grabbing his sanitary bag and slung his towel to his shoulder, and yelled at Seokmin to reserve two choco pies for him as he walked out of the compartment to shower.
Seokmin had distributed the choco pies to the squad equally, even to Jimin, who was not even there when they won.
Jimin was not even excited about the choco pies now. He only stared at the plastic wrapper while the others around him began chattering. When Jinyoung appeared in the room, wearing fresh clothes, Sam and Jaebum fought; declaring that it was their turn to shower.
He only watched as the others were munching on the sweet snack they had acquired, and began to wonder how their lives were before they stayed in. He might be a proud man, who would undoubtedly flaunt his successful job and wealth to pick up guys from time to time, but ever since he stayed, he never bothered to open up to people— mainly because he had been a little bit difficult at first.
If they were to meet on the streets, he knew none of them would look at his way. Neither would he look at theirs.
So it was only right for Jimin to feel mad when Jungkook brought up his job outside of the training center. No one was supposed to know.
Well, no one, except for those with higher powers. Then Jimin remembered that Jungkook did have a higher power here.
Fuck that guy.
■■■
It was not Jungkook’s intention to suddenly pull the ‘family connection’ on Jimin. He had read Jimin’s file when he was selecting the squad members. If Jungkook were to tell the truth, he did not want to deal with anyone who had wealth. There were wealthy parents who would pay so their sons were not required to be recruited.
But Jimin’s father was different.
He did not bribe Jungkook, no, he did not. Instead, he was asking Jungkook a favor.
When the man with graying hair approached Jungkook at first, Jungkook could already sense that there was a malicious intention behind his welcoming smile. Instead of the usual “I can double the money if you let my son go”, Mr. Park had asked Jungkook to train Jimin harder than the rest. Jungkook was confused at the odd request, but when he read Jimin’s file, he abruptly figured out the reason why.
Instead of a short black hair cut, the picture that was attached to Jimin’s document was a picture of Park Jimin smiling brightly with orange hair. It was supposed to be a serious picture, but the fool made it look like he was advertising Colgate.
Jungkook scoffed when he finished reading Jimin’s file and decided that since his father did ask for a favor, then why not?
The noise inside their compartment died down when Seokmin, who was guffawing heartily, abruptly stood up and bowed as he saw Jungkook on the doorway. The others, without hesitation, did the same. Jimin would too, but he just sat up on Jaebum’s bed, and slightly bowed with a restrained smile on his lips.
“Good game, recruits.”
The squad members thanked Jungkook in unison. Jungkook knew his squad would always win in a soccer match – he had chosen great soldiers after all. While half of Sergeant Choi’s squad was running laps and the other half were punished to stay in Wonsan poksyeok position for hours, his squad had gathered in their compartment, enjoying their rewards.
Jungkook glanced at Jimin on the nearest, who was already staring at him with a pointed look and inaudibly sighed. It was not the first time one of his squad members had injured himself, in fact, Park Jinyoung managed to injure himself during their first day of training. But this was Park Jimin, whom he usually caught staring longer than he should, whose lips twisted in a sly smirk whenever he managed to turned the tips of Jungkook’s ears red.
It was not a secret that a few of the recruits had an eye for Jimin – Jungkook did not blame them. He saw the way Sergeant Lee would stare at Jimin whenever Jungkook demanded a few laps on the field despite the fact the old Sergeant could piss off and train his squad members. Jimin had the effect on people and that little shit knew loved the reaction the others gave him.
Which was why Jungkook did his best to give Jimin more work, so he would always have his sight on Jimin. He knew he should not care because fuck, there were others who would also be easy targets for hormonal bastards but Park Jimin was a part of his squad and he decided to convince himself that yeah, Park Jimin was under his monitoring division so it was only reasonable for him to keep an eye on the man.
“Lee Hongbin,” Jungkook called out.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get me a glass of water. Now.”
Hongbin did not have the time to give his companions a confused look because he abruptly scurried his way outside to get the young sergeant what he wanted. The lively atmosphere they were having died down when Jungkook entered, scanning their bunks and faces. They were eating silently now and secretly, Jungkook loved the power he had on them.
He had lived his whole life in the training center, aspiring to be a general officer like his father. He had trained earlier than the others and when he was of age, he was far more qualified than the other hundreds of recruits, which led him to where he was now. Many thought that it was unfair of Jungkook to acquire such position at a young age because of his father but who could blame him?
Clearly, the fact that he was more than skilled than most was overshadowed by the fact that his father had an upper hand here.
He did not realize he was staring at Jimin’s bandaged ankle until Hongbin came a few seconds later, giving him the glass of water he had asked for.
Jungkook mumbled a thank you before approaching Jimin, handing him the glass of water. Jimin only stared in confusion but took the glass anyway. He could feel the others’ gazes on him but nothing was more bothering than the fact that Jungkook was being a little less douche-y than usual.
Jimin glanced at his companions, looking for a hint of jests on their faces that might indicate that they were playing a prank on him, but all of them also had a bewilderment expression on their faces. Seokmin shook his head as he took a bit of his choco pie, staring at the Once In A Lifetime scene that was unfolding right in front of him.
Their sergeant took a small packet from the pocket of his pants and handed Jimin what seemed like two small pills.
It was the ibuprofen that Dr. Seokjin had given him earlier.
“Are you trying to drug me?”
Jungkook scowled. “Ibuprofen for your ankle. Dr. Seokjin asked me to give it to you.”
He stared warily at Jungkook, before taking the pills from his palm. “How should I know you’re not giving me the wrong drug?”
“Right now, giving you the wrong drug seems like a good option.”
The others stared at each other, half admiring Jimin’s courage and half of them were praying for Jimin to stop.
Jimin rolled his eyes before plopping down the pills in his mouth and washing them down with the water. He was expecting bubbles of acid to come out from his mouth but nothing happened.
Jungkook was supposed to walk away now and leave them in peace but instead, he sternly said, “Open your mouth.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want to see if you’ve eaten them.”
Jimin scoffed, a little bit offended. “Do you think I’m a kid?”
He could see Hyungwon violently shaking his head on the corner of his eye. The last thing the whole squad wanted was for some idiot to piss their sergeant off. They knew how merciless Jungkook could be with his punishments sometimes. It usually only take one fucker to bring the whole team down (although, so far, Jungkook had been nice enough to only give Jimin the penalties he did not deserve).
Jungkook’s lips twisted into a sardonic smirk.
God, it took all Jimin’s willpower not to slap the smirk off his face. Rolling his eyes, Jimin opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. As much as Jimin wanted to give Jungkook a beating, he knew he could not. Jungkook would only taunt him anyway if he did not follow his orders.
Stupid upper hand positions and stupid rules.
“Good,” Jungkook smirked again, not catching the way Jimin exaggeratedly roll his eyes and stuck his tongue out at him when he spun around to turn his attention to the other recruits.
“I want to congratulate all of you for being able to make it up onto the red phase. We’ll be starting the white phase next week, where we will be practicing the tactical skills with full combat gear. We’ll begin to march at six tomorrow so be prepared. Hold on, where is Jaebum?”
“Showering, Sir,” Yoseob answered.
“Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. For now, have some rest.”
Seokmin let out a breath he did not know he had been holding when the sergeant finally walked out of their compartment. “Holy shit,” he muttered. “I thought he’d ask us to run a lap or something.”
“You won’t be joining then, Jimin?” Sam asked.
Jimin shrugged. “I supposed.”
And somehow, his thoughts drifted to Jungkook.
■■■
Jimin wanted to laugh at himself for thinking his sprained ankle would did him some good. Instead of resting on his bed, he was awoken at six in the morning by the same stentorian voice that served as an alarm to all of them. They were given time to shower and changed to their uniforms.
His ankle was not feeling any better. Jungkook had given him the ibuprofen again that morning, and it annoyed him that Jungkook decided to hold onto the medicine rather than giving the whole packet to Jimin. If he thought Jimin would overdose himself, that would be stupid. But considering how the gods hated him by having Jungkook as his sergeant, he might as well drown himself with acid.
“You’re coming with us,” Jungkook informed, after he had once again forced Jimin to open his mouth.
“I’m injured, just in case you’re blind,” Jimin scoffed.
“That doesn’t mean you’re going to be useless.”
Which was why Jimin was now boiling the water, cooking ramyeon for his companions. Jungkook was nice enough to let Jimin stayed in the Humvee as he monitored the squad marching around the track of the center area. Often Jungkook would yell out insults and pointed at whoever made any mistake in stepping and Jimin could already envision Jinyoung muttering under his breath with his helmet covering half of his eyes.
Jimin felt sorry for his companions for carrying goddamn bag that weigh a ton while marching. It was scorching hot inside the Humvee; Jungkook refused to turn on the airconditioner and instead, roll down the windows but since Jungkook was closely monitoring the squad, it also meant that they were going at a painfully slow speed.
Jimin wondered if he could die from the unbearable heat.
The sun was high up in the sky when Jungkook announced that they could have a rest. All of them sighed in unison as they let down their bags. Seungcheol did not even bother to unstrap it and abruptly lied down on the ground.
“Hungry?” Jungkook demanded.
“Yes,” all of them muttered.
“What is that? I can’t hear you pussies.”
“Yes!” all of them answered louder and angrier this time.
Jungkook sneered in content before ordering Jimin to cook ramyeon. Jimin wanted to laugh at himself again for thinking how nice Jungkook was being to him today because that rascal was a pain in the ass. It was only ramyeon, and Jimin knew goddamn well how to cook a fucking ramyeon. But Jungkook was not leaving him alone.
“Add a little more water, Jimin, we don’t want the ramyeon to be dry. Are we?”
“What the fuck are you staring into space for? Watch the pot, you twat!”
“Start opening the goddamn ramyeon packets, Park Jimin!”
“Wait, wait, wait, that’s a lot of water!”
“CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?!”
“Oh my God, shut the fuck up, will you?” Jimin snapped.
Silence fell over them again. Even Seokmin (God knew something would be extremely wrong if the chatterbox Lee Seokmin became silent) who had been making stupid horse noises to entertain Hongbin, was clamping his mouth shut. The only sounds heard was the rustling of the leaves and annoying birds tweeting although Jimin swore he heard a cricket chirping, adding an even more awkward effect around them.
None of them ever crossed the line before by dropping the F-bomb to the sergeant and this was the first time someone also known as the idiot that was Park Jimin, actually snapped at their sergeant. Sure, they knew Jimin was a little bit difficult to handle. Heck, he was that guy who refused to do push-ups on the first day because the ground was ‘dirty’ but no one ever ask the young sergeant to shut the fuck up.
The others saw the punishments the other recruits from other squads received just for giving their sergeant looks – and up until now, Jungkook had been compassionate enough for not letting them run in combat gear around the lap just for pulling a face at him.
Jungkook was scoffing now, staring down at Jimin who was sitting uncomfortably on a small chair near the steel pot.
No one dared to speak.
The corners of Jungkook’s mouth quirked upwards, but nothing suggested that he found the whole situation to be funny. He was testing Jimin’s patience and he seemed amused that Jimin finally barked.
“Do you want to run a lap, Jimin?” His voice was so low, Jimin almost shit in his pants.
Fucking hell, Jimin wanted to drown himself in the boiling water in front of him and die. He knew if he were to say something right now, it would come out as a stutter and there was nothing Jimin wanted more than to humiliate himself. Five weeks ago, Jimin would slap himself for letting a younger man treating him like this.
“No, sir,” he managed to squeak. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Jimin could literally hear the sound of Hyunwoo gulping.
Jimin swallowed, eyes glued to the steel pot, hands were placed on his back to show how sincere his apology was although truth be told, he was not sorry for snapping at Jungkook at all. What scared him was the punishment that would come after that.
“Pardon? Speak up, will you, princess?”
Jimin gritted his teeth as he felt all eyes were boring a hole on his face. He finally knew what it felt like to be Chihoon, that one pathetic guy from the 2nd squad, who somehow managed to always fuck things up and was always humiliated in front of the others.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Jimin raised his voice louder this time.
He did not have to look up to Jungkook to know that the younger was enjoying the ordeal he went through.
“Are you a soldier or a wuss, Park Jimin? Look at me when you speak.”
Oh my fucking god. Now Jimin was really considering drowning himself in the boiling water. Jimin shut his eyes tightly, berating himself to just get over it and finally looked up to stare at Jungkook. Jungkook was smiling sideways, in a way that made him so stupidly handsome and satanic at the same time.
And now, Jimin knew that it was Satan who created Jeon Jungkook to bring misery to him.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Apology accepted. Now, will you be a good soldier and feed your comrades, Park Jimin?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s what I wanna hear, princess.”
The tense atmosphere was broken by the loud static coming from the Humvee. Jimin never felt so thankful towards an inanimate object before for saving his life. He swore his life span just reduced ten years. Jungkook jogged towards the Humvee, probably to answer the walkie talkie or whatever the fuck he was doing when Seokmin patted Jimin on the shoulder and whispered, “You must be a very brave guy, Park Jimin.”
Jimin did not know he was shaking until Seokmin held his hand in an attempt to calm him down. “Thanks,” Jimin stammered.
“Or a very stupid guy,” Seokmin added.
“I’m gonna spit on your ramyeon.”
■■■
For the next four days, Jimin was Jungkook’s personal slave. He would come to their compartment every morning, to wake them up and in an addition, to give Jimin his medicine and then on the afternoon, during the practice for tactical skills and finally at the evening, when the others were too knackered to care about Jungkook’s presence in their compartment.
Jungkook had been ordering Jimin around. He would ask him to make the others’ beds, clean their supplies, cook ramyeon and wash the Humvee while the others were marching.
Jimin would rather go to Hell than to admit that he actually loved the attention he was receiving from Jungkook. Yeah, the other recruits were also concerned about him and once in a while, even Sergeant Lee, checked up on Jimin.
But Jungkook had a different way to show that he cared.
It had set hurricane of those stupid butterflies in his stomach and he fucking hated it.
His ankle was getting better and he was now able to walk with any help, but sometimes the others were being nice by offering to help him. Of course, he refused the help because despite their thick arms and taut muscles, Jimin knew some of the recruits had different things in mind. Not that he blamed them, obviously, Jimin knew he was gorgeous. Even with this stupid haircut. Thank fuck his hair was beginning to grow longer again.
One time, he actually walked in on Jaebum and Jinyoung at one of the stalls in the bathroom, and he could not make eye contact with them for a week after that incident. Jimin saluted and acknowledged that Jaebum was a real man for confronting Jimin and actually explaining that they were not gay and that they were just relieving some ‘stress’. Jimin had cringed at Jaebum’s justification, and insisted that he did not want to hear more.
Besides, it was not the first time he caught someone doing it anyway. He swore he heard someone was getting off in their room at night, but he decided to sleep it off. He really did want to spend another week on an awkward term with his comrades.
Voyeurism was not exactly Jimin’s thing anyways.
Ever since Jimin could walk (on the third day since The Incident of Jimin Falling For Jungkook’s Smile, by the way), Jungkook had been absurd with his demands. He no longer went to their compartment to give Jimin his pills and instead, waited for Jimin to come to his office and asked for it. The first time Jungkook stopped showing up with his pills, Jimin had been worried sick.
He did not even know how many times he should take it and how many days he should stop taking it – he blamed himself for not staying inside the sick bay to listen to Dr. Seokjin’s explanation. He would have gone to ask the broad shouldered doctor himself, but the sick bay was at the end of the hall and Jimin could not afford to walk there. Crawl, maybe, but he was done humiliating himself.
“If you want your medicine, then you should come to me.”
“I sprained my ankle, sir.” He tried not to slam his hands on the wooden table angrily and instead, only grit his teeth. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take care of my medicine myself.”
“How should I know if you’re taking it on the right time and with the right amount?”
He made a good point but that was not important. The main point here was how much of a dickhead Jungkook was being. It almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose.
“I can assure you, that—”
“Did you know how many suicides cases occurred by letting the recruits handling the medicines themselves?” Jungkook spoke up. “You are under my watch, Park Jimin, and you’re injured. It’s only right for me to handle the medicines for you in case you’re having ideas inside your head.”
And fuck yeah, Jimin did have ideas inside his head. Ideas on how to annihilate Jungkook with only his bare hands. Or maybe by using that trophy on his case.
Jimin was about to speak up to protest, but Jungkook only interrupted by pulling a drawer and tossing Jimin a bottle of water.
“Look, I’m a busy man, and I’ve got things to handle. If I did not give your medicine on time, you know where to find me. Here,” Jungkook avowed, handing Jimin ‘the right amount’ of his ibuprofen.
Jimin grabbed the orange pills before retreating to the door, only to be stopped by Jungkook’s gravelly, “Yah! Eat it here.”
‘Fucking hell,’ Jimin screamed at the back of his mind as he uncapped the water bottle. Jungkook watched as Jimin swallowed the pills, his adam apple bobbing and when he was done, he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. “Happy?” Jimin groaned, hand already grabbing the door knob.
Jungkook cleared his throat (and also some unwanted thoughts inside his head) as he nodded. “You may go.”
On his way to his compartment, he met Dr. Seokjin, who was tapping his pen against the clipboard. He appeared to be reading a document when he stumbled upon the taller, almost bumping onto him. Seokjin looked up from his clipboard and gave Jimin a warm smile and Jimin wondered if he was already married.
‘What the fuck am I thinking?’
“Hi there, Jimin. Are you feeling any better?”
“Yeah, yeah. I do, actually.”
“Lieutenant Jeon had been taking good care of you, I presume?”
Good care my fucking ass. “Yeah.”
Seokjin gave Jimin that same warm smile again before patting his head. “You’re a lucky man to be under his division then. He even personally offered to feed you the medicine himself, isn’t he a wonderful man?”
Wait what the fuck.
He mentioned something about recruits committing suicides earlier, which made Jimin held a belief that it was every sergeant’s job to feed their recruits himself. Jimin tried not to make the confusion evident on his face as he snorted, “Isn’t that every sergeant’s job when a recruit got injured?”
Seokjin looked up for a moment as if he was thinking before shaking his head and pushed his glasses higher with a huge grin. “No, usually a nurse was assigned to the recruit to ensure they’re taking the medicines on time.”
Shit, Jeon Jungkook.
He thought Jungkook was hard to read even from the beginning, and just when he thought he was settling with the conclusion that Jungkook was nothing but a fucking Shit Eating Man Who Abused His Power, he seemed to get even more confused.
It was hard figuring Jungkook out.
Jungkook was at it again with his ridiculous demands. This time, he was asked to wash the recruits’ boots.
His reason? “You’re in an army, and we are of no use of hopeless soldier. Make yourself useful or I’ll send you home packing.”
Jimin knew that was only a taunt because if it was real, Jimin would have been sent home the first day of their training when he refused to do a pushup. Besides, Jimin would rather be home anyway but it seemed like Jungkook was not going to go easy on him, so he would rather did what the young sergeant asked before things get out of hand.
The only time Jimin was participating was when they were taught to assemble, dissemble and caring for their respective guns. The way Jungkook calmly and confidently explained while demonstrating made Jimin believed that Jungkook was born to be a Second Lieutenant. Jungkook did not drawl and did not lazily teach like the others (he had heard plenty of stories from the other squads. Some of them were too lazy to even speak, they only handed the recruits a how-to book. One of the recruits almost killed a person for not knowing how to handle the gun properly).
Jungkook stood in front of their tables, watching them dissembling the gun carefully.
“Don’t put your hand on the trigger, Hyunwoo. You’re gonna kill a motherfucker.”
“Ya, is that how you hold a gun, Seokmin?!”
“Keep your eyes on the gun, Sam. Don’t look outside!”
“Take out the barrel first, god fucking damn it, Jinyoung.”
Jungkook stopped in front of Jimin’s table, watching as the smaller man slowly dissembling the gun. So far, Jungkook had not yelled out Jimin’s name, which meant he was on the safe zone for now. Taekwoon, who was sitting beside Jimin, glanced at Jungkook warily.
When Jimin was done, he looked up to Jungkook with a triumphant grin on his face, just to irritate the hell out of Jungkook. He had been keeping his eyes on his 1911.45 the whole time his hand was dissembling the gun, and his finger had not brushed against the trigger once and most importantly, he did not make any mistake at all.
But this was Jeon Jungkook, a fucker who somehow managed to find even the slightest mistake.
“Too slow, Park Jimin.”
Jimin grimaced as he watched Jungkook walk away from his table to observe the others. He knew Jungkook was only saying that to get on his nerves. After all, Jimin had done a perfect job. He rolled his eyes as Jungkook yelled out an instruction to assemble their guns for the second time that day.
■■■
Jungkook was running a few laps that night, when all the recruits were already inside their respective compartments. Usually at this time, he would already be in his office to secretly stuff himself with his junk food that he stashed inside his locked drawers and pretend to be busy calculating the weapons and whatnot but not tonight.
Tonight, he felt like running.
He found solace in running – it made his head clear from any thoughts that were slowly eating him alive. He knew he should not care for a recruit that much and his initial intention was only to make rich brat like Park Jimin suffer and learn about life the hard way, just like how he did. But he was not expecting himself to actually volunteer to feed Jimin his medicine.
For fuck’s sake, he only sprained his ankle.
It was supposed to be a nurse’s job to look after Jimin but no, his big fat mouth just decided to voice his thoughts aloud. Dr. Seokjin had a surprised look on his face at the proposal, but agreed to it anyway.
But he knew he was going too far when he had unnecessary thoughts about Jimin on the nights he spent lying on his bed awake. He was enjoying the power he had on the older man too much. The other day when Jimin snapped, Jungkook found himself grinning in amusement at the thought. Jimin was smaller than most of the recruits, and he had the need to protect his squad member but he never expected that he needed to protect Jimin from himself.
Holy shit, he thought. He only increased his speed, but somehow was unable to enjoy the wind that was blowing against his face as he ran. If anything, his mind was not clearing itself right now – it was only giving him thoughts that made him want to bury himself alive.
The last time he was running this hard was the night of his first love’s wedding. He had chosen not to attend, and instead exhaust himself out by running.
He did not realize a figure that was approaching him as he shut his eyes tight for a moment, willing to let go of thoughts that include Jimin, only to find the man standing near the Heevum with his arms crossed. He thought he was imagining things at first, but when he heard his voice, Jungkook finally stopped running.
His arms felt sticky and his bangs were sticking to his forehead. (Yes, Jungkook had bangs and Jimin thought it was unfair but he did not voice this out anyway). He was panting heavily as he bent down, his hands holding onto his knees for support. He glared at Jimin, wondering what he was doing on the field at times like this.
“Why are you here?” he said between the pants, standing up straight and wiped his forehead with his arm.
“What are you doing here?” Jimin shot back with his high-pitched voice.
Not only Jimin was blessed with his looks, he was also blessed with a voice so dulcet it reminded Jungkook of twinkling stars.
“Running, obviously,” Jungkook sassed with an eyeroll.
Without his usual uniform, Jungkook looked like a normal young man. Like a man who never yell out insult words and give out severe punishments to other young men. He was only wearing the plain white shirt, that was now clinging to every curve of his body because of his sweat, that was provided by the center along with military pants and Jimin wondered how Jungkook could still pull off the sexgod look.
Jimin, on the other hand, was wearing the exact same shirt, one size bigger than usual, along with his PJ pants.
“I went to your office and you aren’t there. You were supposed to give me my meds.”
“Oh shit,” Jungkook hissed, not even aware that Jimin was still not fully healed. It had been a week, and his ankle was still bandaged. “Fuck, sorry.”
Now, he really sounded like a young man. Jimin’s lips almost quirked into a smile.
Jungkook fumbled on his pocket for a moment, before picking up his office key and tossed it to Jimin. “It’s on the table. Under the yellow file. Don’t go snooping around, I need my keys in five minutes. Go.”
Jimin stared at the sergeant in bewilderment. “You’re asking me to come back here to give you your keys back? Do you know how painful—”
“Shut up, or you’re running with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Jungkook checked his wristwatch, it was almost midnight. He heard about ghosts lurking in the hallway or about the ghosts in the bathrooms, but that was the least of his concern. He was stinking so bad, he needed a shower. He knew he would feel slight muscle cramps from all the running and jumping jacks he did, but at least it was fruitful.
(Fruitful aka Finally Ridding Any Thoughts Of Jimin Out Of His Mind)
Just as he thought, the bathroom was empty. Everyone should be sleeping by now – except for those who had their EC Duty shifts tonight but heck, they were far away anyways. Without even bothering to enter the stall first, he had stripped himself naked, leaving his shirt and pants outside of the stall as he entered.
Being the paranoid person he always was, he locked the door of the stall and sighed in content when warm water made contact with his skin. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift and somehow, he thought of Jimin’s face and the way he smiled triumphantly when he elatedly dissembled the gun without any mistake and that was all it took for Jungkook to let out an exasperated groan.
“Get out, get out,” Jungkook murmured to no one in particular (aka the Jimin in his head) and somehow, his thoughts only escalated to worst scenarios.
Jungkook knew he had always a thing for men (one of the pros in becoming an army), but Jimin was so not his type.
Small, snappy, whiny – damn, he even had the nerve to answer back to Jungkook.
He glanced south, where a tent was pitching inside his boxer and grunted in annoyance. “What the fuck,” he muttered.
Jungkook would be lying if he said he had never slept with one of the recruits because fuck, the sergeants must have at least once receive a fucking blow job from their comrades but now, he had no one to please him. And to think that he got a fucking boner just by thinking of how much power he had on Jimin and how he always demanded Jimin to open his mouth every time he took his medicine and wondered how warm his mouth would be if it was filled with Jungkook’s cock.
He would have turned the faucet the other way, to shower with a cold water but the stupid horny part of his brain screamed, “No, you son of a bitch, how long had it been?”
Instead of doing something about it, he was trying to win a battle against himself and it began to ache. His cock was begging to be touched.
“Um, hello?”
Fuck.
Jungkook was not sure if he was disappointed or glad that someone walked in on him when he was trying to make the Hardest Decision in his life. He gulped, quickly turning the faucet to the other side so it ran on cold water. “Yeah?” he managed to answer with a hiss when the cold water made contact with his skin. Tugging on his waistband, he stretched it open, letting the cold water ran through his dick. It was bloody cold and he was so close to turning the nozzle again but he was not going to wank with a motherfucker around.
There was a sound of a door being locked.
He gritted his teeth, biting his lower lip to endure the cold water. He forced himself to focus on how cold it was and he had never been happier when the tension he felt earlier was slowly dissipating. Sorry, Jeon Junior.
“I hope you’re not getting off right now. I really need to shit.”
“Piss off.”
“… Sergeant Jeon? Is that you?”
That was when it hit Jungkook that he knew that familiar dulcet voice.
He groaned inwardly. “I’m not getting off, dammit, Park Jimin. I’m showering.”
“With cold water?” he heard Jimin scoff from the other side of the door. It took all Jungkook’s willpower not to break the door and hit Jimin’s face with it.
Silently, he thanked the gods and whatever that made it possible for the men with higher positions to change the doors of the bathroom or Jimin would have seen the frustrated look on his face. Back then, the doors were smaller – only covering their chest down to their knees. If you get caught jerking off during that time, you’re basically going to get fucked or suffer the humiliation of getting caught by comrades.
“How the fuck do you know it’s cold water?”
“I was just messing with you, but hearing how upset you sounded, I’m guessing I might be right.” There was a lilt in Jimin’s voice when he said that.
Jungkook turned off the faucet as his other hand made its way to the peg, only to realize that he had left his towel on the bench outside.
“I just prefer cold water than warm water.” Jungkook lied as he unlocked the door. He glanced from left to right and when he was sure Jimin was inside one of the stalls doing God knows what, he quickly made a run on the bench and wrapped the towel on his waist before yanking down his boxer.
There was a flushing sound from one of the stalls to his right and as soon as the door clicked, Jimin walked out. He did not limp pathetically anymore.
He swore he saw Jimin staring on his body, which made him feel totally exposed and vulnerable, but decided that it was wishful thinking when Jimin abruptly walked to the sink and washed his hands without sparing him another glance. Jungkook took a smaller towel from the bench to dry his hair, silently watching Jimin to see if Jimin was watching him and when he realized this, he felt like a dumb highschool girl.
Jimin looked at him through the mirror before saying, “Your bones can deform easily if you’re taking cold showers frequently at night, do you know that?”
Jungkook ruffled his hair, his mouth twisted into a mocking smile. “Didn’t know you care about your sergeant so much.”
“Didn’t know you care about your recruits so much too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jimin wiped his hands on his pants, glancing at the mirror to see Jungkook’s reaction through the reflection. Despite the fact that he looked absolutely adorable with his eyebrow raised and lips parted, the thing that caught Jimin’s attention most was the silver military tag necklace around his neck; an item that Jimin never noticed Jungkook had on him. Seeing that Jungkook showered with it, he assumed it must be important. Perhaps Jungkook had been wearing it all this time, but always hid it under his shirt.
“You know what I mean.” Jimin winked playfully before walking out of the bathroom.
“Fucker,” Jungkook muttered under his breath when Jimin was gone. “Didn’t even bow to me when he left.”
■■■
Jimin had never felt so ecstatic when receiving a letter before. But when Jungkook had come up to their compartment with hands full of envelopes and plastic bags full of God knows what, nearly the whole squad jumped in excitement. Some of them received snacks, which Jungkook declared should be shared with the others (at this, Taehyun and Yoseob whimpered) and some of them received more letters than the others.
Jungkook had handed Jimin his letters, snacks and chocolates, which he assumed was from his mom and it would be an understatement to say that Jimin was thrilled.
A few of them ripped their letters open at the spot but Jimin chose to read his alone. Jimin watched as Jinyoung was on the verge of tears reading a letter from his mom and the way Sam was grinning from ear to ear when reading his. Perhaps Sam received one from his girlfriend.
Jimin sighed.
If only he had a special someone that would write to him.
Seokmin was the first to open his box of choco pies, handing out the packets to everyone. Even to Sergeant Jeon.
Jimin half expected Jungkook to shake his head because he seemed like the type to not eat sweets but to his surprise, Jungkook took it, thanking Seokmin with a small smile on his lips.
He nearly scoffed in amusement. Shaking the image of Jungkook’s smile from his head, he ripped open the potato chip and began stuffing himself with it. He had almost forgotten how good it tasted like, thanks to the Shit Food in the cafeteria. At this point, Jimin was so close to crying. If their compartment had TV, this would be a good time to enjoy it.
The sergeant must not have consumed anything sweet either because there was only half of his choco pie left when Jimin offered him his snack. Jungkook refused, by the way, and Jimin tried not to take it to heart. But then again, that meant there was more for him.
When Jungkook was done with his choco pie and handing out the recruits their letters, he cleared his throat, which all of them knew was an indication for everyone to shut up. Unlike the usual sullen faces, Jungkook was met with rare expressions. Some of them cried, a few of them were beaming and then we have Park Jimin who was munching on his potato chip as if it was the end of the world.
“All of you have been doing very good jobs this past few weeks and I am impressed that your squad are still complete, unlike some,” Jungkook began.
Last week, some of the recruits had been discharged to due untold reasons. Some said that there had to be sexual assaults that occur between the recruits, and some said that one of the recruits had lost his marbles. No one really knew the real reason, even Seokmin, who seemed to always know the gossips around – mainly because he was friends with those aunties in the cafeteria and was really good at kissing other people’s arses.
“So,” Jungkook let out a sigh, which caused all of them to look at him expectantly. Jimin was no exception – his heart was beating rather quickly as he felt a hunch where Jungkook might be getting at. “I’ve decided to give you guys a furlough.”
And just like that, their compartment was filled with screams. Jimin pretty sure he crushed a few of the chips when he held the plastic too tightly from excitement.
“Except you, Park Jimin.”
Then, God decided to let Jeon Jungkook crushed on his hopes and dreams just by saying those three words.
“Eh?”
The others seemed not to be listening as they were cheering and hugging each other. Seungcheol was already packing his duffel bag as a tear slipped from his eye.
“You heard me.”
“Why?” Jimin swore he could feel tears were welling up in his eyes. “Th-that’s so unfair.”
“Look, now that you’re completely healed, I need you to get back on track. It’s also unfair to the others that you were doing something else when they’re marching and practicing tactical skills,” Jungkook explained, crumpling the finished choco pie’s wrapper in his hand.
Jimin could only bit his lower lip in annoyance because Jungkook had been right.
But he really wanted to go out, even for a minute. He missed his mom, he really did. He even missed his dad, although he would never own it.
Jimin did not even bother to listen to what Jungkook had to say because he was upset. It was only when Jungkook walked out of their room that he began to feel anger curdling in his stomach. It was not his fault that he was injured in the first place. Besides, he had been useful, hadn’t he, despite suffering from a sprained ankle?
“Ugh, fuck.”
■■■
The first letter he decided to open was the one from Taehyung. Even in the letter, he was still talking about how horrible Jimin looked with his clean cut hair. While the others were sleeping soundly on their corresponding beds, Jimin was the only one who was still up, secretly eating the chocolates from his mom while reading his letters.
Taehyung was babbling about all the things Jimin missed in the States, instead of asking how Jimin was coping or anything that was worth reading. That bastard ended his letter with a ‘xoxo’ and there was nothing more Jimin wanted to burn the letter but he decided to keep it anyway.
His mother’s letter was ripped open next. Judging from the extremely neat and readable handwriting, he surmised someone else must have written the letter for his mother. Perhaps it was the secretary. Despite the letter being written by someone else, Jimin could heard his mother’s voice as he read each word. He wondered what the secretary felt when she was forced to write down ‘my baby’ and other pet names that were stated in the letter.
Jimin found himself sniffling when he reached the end of the message, as his mother wished to see him again when he will be given a furlough.
The thought of furlough made his lips tremble because he was the only one in the squad who had to stay back to train alone while the others would be out to see the world even for just six days. He had taken the days outside of the center for granted and now, there was nothing he wanted to enter the shabby boba place near his apartment.
He still thought that it was unjust for him to stay behind alone, but he knew Jungkook was right. He did need to catch up.
Last but not least, a letter from his father. He thought he would have a heart attack right there and then because wow, Park Hyungseon writing a letter is a sight to be seen once in a lifetime.
Jimin must have expected too much because when he read it, he frowned. Instead of saying cheesy things like how he missed his son or anything, his letter was kept short and straight to the point.
‘Business has been great. Keep training to be more disciplined. Don’t go home until you get your brain organized.’
“It’s you again, huh,” Jimin gritted his teeth, crumpling the letter before angrily taking a bite of his chocolate.
Sure, Jimin might have to train on the days when the others were given a leave, but he knew somehow, his father was the one behind all this. He must have contacted Jungkook and bribe him again.
Fucker.