Chapter Text
“Come on, Minnie, please ! Look at me, I’m at the verge of dying here.”
Jimin’s eye twitches when he looks back at his friend. Really, he’s already doing her enough favours as it is (though it’s true that nobody asked him to come to her apartment with ramen from her favourite place and a matcha from the café in the neighbourhood). There’s at least a dozen other people that she could ask the same thing she’s begging him to do and he’s pretty sure that he’s actually the least suited out of all of them.
“Why don’t you ask someone else to do it?” Jimin grumbles, flopping himself down onto the couch too, watching as she raises herself up on her elbows to look at him.
And well, it’s true that she’s the picture perfect of misery now — her nose is red from blowing into the tissues so hard it will probably fall off if the sickness continues, her eyes are puffy and Jimin thinks that this is the first time he’s seen her hair so greasy . He means it when he says that he would do a lot to make her more comfortable right now, to feel even a little bit better but he draws the line at going to interview Jeon Jungkook.
“Because you’re the only one I trust to actually do the interview and not cream your pants the second you see Jungkook,” she rolls her eyes. “Hana already offered to do it for me. And Yuna. And Jiwoo. They’d be trying to see whether the rumours about his dick are true or not.”
Jimin chokes on his spit. He turns to look at her, bewildered, but Vickie just shrugs innocently, as if an absurd combination of words didn’t just make their way out of her mouth.
“What? What rumor?”
He’s going to regret asking that, isn’t he?
“That he has a tattoo on his dick. Or above it. I’m not sure.”
Yeah, he does regret asking that.
“How do you even know that?”
“Told you, it’s a rumor. And I know most of the rumours around here, Minnie,” she grins.
Which — yeah, it’s true. She does know everything, now that he thinks about it. Probably one of the reasons why she’s such a great journalist. You want to know something about someone? You go to Vickie. Preferably with a cup of coffee or a blueberry matcha. She’s more willing to give you information this way. She’s also very happy to trade information for information — which works especially well when she’s asked to do an interview with someone. He’s pretty sure she has a secret stash of files and files on the people she knows.
“Listen, if you really don’t want to do that, I’ll understand,” she tells him gently, blue eyes twinkling as she smiles. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re uncomfortable with, I hope you know that.”
Of course he does. He also knows that she’s tried really hard to get that interview, and has been asking Namjoon to organise it for her for weeks already. It took some time to align both her and Jungkook’s schedules in a way for them to meet without feeling like they have to rush through everything and now she can’t even do it herself. She’s been looking forward to it — as far as Jimin knows, nobody has been able to get an exclusive interview with Jungkook since he debuted. Though Vickie at least has the privilege of having met him before, after one of the races when Namjoon introduced her.
What harm there is to doing it, really? Jimin may not like watching Formula One, hence why he knows close to nothing about it but he’s sure Vickie would brief him beforehand so he wouldn’t look absolutely dumb and uneducated in front of Jungkook. Not that he really cares about it, though. He’s not that keen on fighting for his attention with thousands of other fans, both men and women.
Besides, he already knows enough about the guy from Tae (and from the dozens of different outraged headlines that concern the two of them whenever they spend time together). Taehyung may act like he isn’t a big gossip but Jimin has known him ever since their university days, and he knows that if they were to make a podium, Taehyung would be right behind Vickie. Or in the same place. Everyone should have seen him when he first noticed Seokjin across the campus and made it his absolute mission to find his social media and anything else the internet would give him. Pretty close to being called a stalker, if you ask Jimin. Tae would just call it curiosity.
This particular hobby of his didn’t vanish, and well, one could say it even deepened when Jimin introduced him to Vickie after meeting her at work. In hindsight, he’s not sure sometimes if it was a good decision to do that, since these two always encourage each other and make it everyone’s problem. Even worse, Jin is the one that enables the two of them even more — always eager to share whatever new gossip he learned while away on a photoshoot.
And from what Jimin knows, Jeon Jungkook may be young, younger than most of the current racers, but he does not fall behind them in talent even by a tiny bit – quite the opposite actually. He’s been called the Big Hit’s prodigy so many times that Jimin has already lost count. He’s pretty sure the guy has more awards than he does functioning brain cells, but who is he to judge?
“No, it’s fine, I– I’ll do it.” Jimin sighs. It was always going to end with him agreeing to whatever she asked him to do. He’s not sure if there ever was a time when he told her no to something, apart from when she got drunk and suggested calling Taylor Swift to tell her how much she loves the new album. Because.. yeah, well. That definitely wouldn’t end well.
She squeals, sitting up on the couch so suddenly that she chokes on her breath and starts coughing, her mouth concealed in the sleeve of her sweater. When she’s done though, she shoots him one of her brightest smiles, her teeth showing a little as she does so and even if he wanted to, he can’t not return it immediately. He wants to be mad, even just a little bit, but he can’t, not when she smiles at him like this, even though she seems exhausted and ready to slip into a deep slumber.
“You’re an angel, Park Jimin. I hope you know that I love you. With my whole heart,” she sighs happily. “I have my notes and questions if you want to use them. Or not. I actually trust you not to ask him dumb shit.”
“I’ll use the notes, thanks,” he murmurs when she stands up to walk over to her bag that’s been thrown carelessly on the floor in the living room. “I don’t even know shit about Formula One. Like– It’s just a bunch of cars zooming before your eyes. Who wants to watch that?”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, right. I forgot you watch it just so you could have a reason to talk to Namjoon.”
“Oh, goodness forbid a girl desperately wants to hit it.”
Jimin snorts. Her trying to hit it has already been going on for over a year and still, it doesn’t seem like she got a new prescription for glasses to see the obvious hints that Namjoon has been dropping her way whenever they meet. Or even when they don’t. Because they text constantly. Dusk till dawn. He’s surprised her fingers haven’t fallen off yet.
He has a bet running with Taehyung and Jin — on whether she’ll realise that Namjoon does not treat her as another one of the sport journalists until the end of the year. And that even though they met after one of the races, during a press conference, he was perfectly able to fish her out from the crowd and he still is. No matter if there’s a dozen other people raising their hands at these kinds of things, he will always happily answer her questions first.
Vickie rummages through her bag for a moment until a triumphant ha! falls past her lips and she walks back to the couch, sinking into the softness of it. All the money that went into this purchase was truly well-spent, rewarded with countless movie nights and stuffing themselves full of take-out food. Come to think of it, every single object in her apartment oozes the same amount of comfort – something she’s been quite a lot of time creating in here, with all the potted plants and the lamps that give off just the right amount of soft, warm light that bathes the whole space in golden shades.
She drops a thick notebook clad in black leather into his lap — she must have gone over hundreds of these already, ever since she started working at The Herald. It’s where she takes all of her notes, writes down questions, sometimes makes shopping lists or notes the time and place of each important meeting. Jimin turns it over in his hands, surprised at how heavy it feels resting over his fingers. The weight is not something he expected, especially considering the fact that he’s more used to his tablet by now. He gave up writing by hand quite some time ago.
“You don’t really need to know that much about racing. This interview was supposed to show him outside of it, so don’t worry if you have no idea what Parc Fermé or Grand Slam are.”
Jimin stares at her without a reply. She could have been speaking in another language just now, if you ask him. Vickie laughs, though the sound is quickly distorted into another coughing fit.
“You sound like you’re about to cough out your lungs.”
“Do you want a sticker for being so observant?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Seeing a doctor might be a good idea, you know. I doubt this will pass on its own,” he tells her. A huff sounds in the air between them when she waves her hand dismissively as a response to his words. “I’m serious. If I do the interview for you, you have to see a doctor.”
She frowns, lips twisting a little in a grimace, as she stares at him, clearly unhappy with what he just said. Tough luck though, because Jimin is not going to let up and if he has to resort to blackmail, then so be it.
“Fine, fine,” she finally huffs, rubbing a hand over her face. “I’ll call the doctor first thing tomorrow morning.”
“And let me know when you do that.”
“And let you know when I do that.”
Satisfied with her answer, he nods, the corners of his lips twitching into a happy smirk. Point for Jimin.
“Okay, back to the more important stuff.” Vickie says, pointing towards her notebook, still sitting safely in Jimin’s hands. “Like I said, I wanted this interview to focus more on Jungkook outside of racing. You can still ask him something about it, of course but– well, I just wanted to be more original,” she shrugs.
There’s already countless interviews, albeit pretty short, about how Jungkook is the rising racing star, how many trophies he’s already won and how many records he broke – Jimin thinks it’s all pretty boring. Not to mention, Jungkook’s answers are mostly the same in all the interviews, without any personal touch to them. And it’s not what either he or Vickie like to show in their articles, so he gets her point of view perfectly well, even if they both specialise in different things: with her working in the Sports department and him in Culture. Vickie is mostly seen at sport events, always having the best seat and sitting in the first rows during conferences, while Jimin sticks to concerts and theatre, happy that not only he can interact with art but he can also dress nicely while doing that.
“Also, he might be… cocky. He’s not bad, just sometimes can be annoying. I’m sure you’ve heard him speak at least once. So, watch out for that,” she thinks it over. “Though I doubt you’ll have any problems with handling him, now that I think about it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Whatever you want it to mean,” she shrugs, seemingly innocent. Her blue eyes twinkle at him, the corners of her lips almost twitching into a grin. Jimin really, desperately wants to ask for an explanation. “We were supposed to meet at Mitou at five p.m., but I can call Jungkook and ask him if he can reschedule if that’s not a good time for you.”
Vickie’s already pulling out her phone from under the mess of pillows and blankets as Jimin just stares at her, wondering if he even heard her correctly. He doesn’t know which part of the sentence surprised him the most, if he’s being honest.
“Call him? You just.. have his number? Like that?”
She raises an eyebrow, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
“If you wanted to have it too, you could have just asked, Minnie.”
“Shut up.”
Vickie chuckles. She waves her phone in front of his face.
“So? Is five okay for you or do I call him?”
Jimin’s still recovering from the brief shock of both learning that he’ll be going to such a fancy restaurant tomorrow, with Jeon Jungkook of all people and that his friend has the racer’s number just casually saved in her phone. And she never told him about that? She always tells him everything — during their breaks at work, during their hangouts or even while texting each other — and somehow, she’s managed to keep that piece of information from him. He guesses that Namjoon must really be pliant to her every request.
“No, it’s fine,” he finally speaks up. “But, uh– Mitou? That crazily fancy Mitou?”
She huffs, waving a dismissive hand between the two of them. It’s as if going to a nice restaurant like that is no big deal.
“It’s not that fancy, and I think you’ll fit right in, my love, don’t worry about that.” Vickie hums. And yeah, it’s true that Jimin can really dress for the occasion if he wants to but he’s more worried about other things – like prices or the kind of people that will be there. Who even goes to these restaurants? “And don’t worry about the prices either. Jungkook said he’s paying.”
“Yeah, because he thinks you are going to be there tomorrow.”
Jimin is like half-sure that Jungkook offered to pay because he already knows Vickie, which might as well be the reason why he agreed to do that interview for her. He never met Jimin, even though they do have shared friends and there were at least a few occasions during which they could have met each other. Be it fate or something else, somehow Jimin never got the absolute pleasure of meeting Jungkook. However, he doesn’t need to have met him to know that he’s not that good when it comes to his media presence. As far as Jimin’s concerned, the man does not give exclusive interviews to anyone, even if they offer a lot of money.
“Oh, trust me, he’ll be even more willing to pay for you.”
He frowns. The way Vickie says that makes him think that she knows something she is not going to tell him, at least not anytime soon. The only thing he gets is a smirk and a wink as she leans back on the pillows, phone placed safely on her chest.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing!” Vickie sing-songs, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Yeah, right. It’s never nothing with her. But it’s too late to argue now and the only thing Jimin can do is sigh, lean back against the back of the couch and open the notebook in his hands on one of the latest pages. Hopefully, less than a day is enough to prepare for an exclusive interview with Big Hit’s prodigy, Jeon Jungkook.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Turns out, less than a day is definitely not enough.
Jimin smooths the material of his shirt, his finger sliding over the delicate satin when he gets out of the cab, dropped right in front of Mitou, which.. looks even fancier than he thought. Though he doesn’t feel underdressed in the shirt and his black, freshly ironed slacks, he can’t help the little uncomfortable feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what to define it as, at least not yet.
He feels like an idiot standing on the sidewalk like that, so he steps in closer towards the entrance, though hesitates at the last second before walking in. Vickie told him that Jungkook would meet him outside and so he’s not sure whether he could even get to the table if he went in without the person who booked it for them. Then again, if he just stands outside like that, the staff might think he’s a creep and ask the security to–
“Park Jimin?”
He’s startled when he hears an unfamiliar voice right next to his ear and his instincts kick in, his whole body tensing as he turns around, fully prepared to either scream at someone or run away. That is, of course, until he actually takes a good look at the stranger and feels his brain just… short circuit at the sight.
It’s a blessing that Vickie isn’t here and that she can’t read minds, because by God, does Jimin think that the pictures and videos online (through which he spent a fair amount of time looking last night) don’t do Jeon Jungkook justice, even in the slightest. He’s taller than Jimin and he has to raise his head a bit to look at his face clearly, making out each detail carved onto his features. Which… absolutely does not help his heart or brain right now.
His lip ring gleams a little in the soft, afternoon sun, bringing Jimin’s attention to it, against his own will, really. There must be some spell put on Jungkook because he’s unable to tear his eyes away from him — from the mess of dark hair that falls over his forehead, tickling his brows, or from the tattoos that peek out through the rolled up sleeves of his black shirt. Jimin is just a man, after all. A man who likes to appreciate the beautiful things shown to him and right now, it just so happens to be Jeon Jungkook, in all his glory.
“Vickie didn’t mention you’re mute,” he huffs a small laugh, eyes narrowing in amusement as he stares down at him. “Hope we can still do the interview, though.”
And… the spell is gone. Just like that. Jimin’s eyes may like to take in beauty but his ears definitely do not like taking in stupidity.
God, Vickie really owes him for that.
“Vickie didn’t mention you’re so nice.” Jimin speaks, his tone dry. He takes a small step back from the man, hoping that the distance will be enough to let his mind go back into focus mode.
“Aw , what a shame. And I’m always on my best behaviour around her.”
Honestly, Jimin doesn’t know if Jungkook even is aware of what best behaviour is. Or good behaviour even. He’s glad he never witnessed him and Taehyung in one room. It might be something Jin can survive, since he’s already set on marrying Tae (and has been for quite some time now) but Jimin doesn’t think that he’s wired with so much tolerance for bullshit. He’s afraid that what Vickie said is actually true and that Jungkook really can be annoying sometimes. He thinks back to that one article he saw about Jungkook going live on Instagram (or whatever other social media platform it was), getting drunk off wine and complaining for thirty minutes straight about how annoying his race engineer is to his millions of followers. Safe to say, Jungkook had to issue a public apology after but his engineer still quit. Jimin’s not sure who’s the unlucky guy now.
“I’m scared to see what your worst behaviour is.” Jimin raises an eyebrow.
“If you ask nicely, I can show you.”
God, strike him down right now if you can see his suffering. The heat he feels in his cheeks is something he tries to ignore and hopes that Jungkook doesn’t even notice. He’d much rather drag glass down concrete than let him think he’s flustered around him for whatever reason.
“Well, shall we?” Jungkook breaks the brief silence between them, and good lord, even his voice sounds more attractive in person. Jimin’s hardwiring must be getting fried. No other explanation for the thoughts that appear in his head like toxic mushrooms after a night full of rain. “I didn’t get the best table for us to be standing out here.”
So, Jimin only nods because he doesn’t really trust his brain to mouth coordination right now, especially not when Jungkook lets him go in first with a charming smile on his face. Some people have already stopped to look at him, whispering to each other’s ear, probably admiring him from afar and wondering what he’s doing here with someone.
The inside of the restaurant is even prettier than the outside and Jimin finds himself admiring the golden details on the walls and ceiling as Jungkook talks to the waiter right in the entrance, a bright grin on his face as he asks about their table. And, well, if the circumstances were a little different and his companion was not such a brat, he might consider this as the perfect spot for a date. The elevator they’re led to is small, the lights in it dimmed a bit — a sharp contrast to the elevators that Jimin is used to. His eyes don’t hurt from the sharp, white light and he doesn’t feel overwhelmed with the amount of people squished around him.
Still, there’s very little space left between him and Jungkook. Jimin’s sure that if he flexed his hand a little bit, their fingers would touch and the thought alone makes him ball his palms into fists, to avoid that from happening. The younger man doesn’t seem to mind at all though and he doesn’t move an inch throughout the whole ride (it might be Jimin’s imagination playing a trick on him but he could actually swear that he saw him move even closer after a second passed and the doors slid shut).
Thankfully, the ride is over soon enough and Jimin can once again step out into a larger space, where he’s not surrounded by the smell of Jungkook’s cologne that already seems to have taken residence in his nose, tormenting him mercilessly. Jimin should really be stronger than that, especially considering everything he told Vickie yesterday — starting from the fact that he’s not one of those mindless, horny fans that Jungkook has and ending with his promise that he would not get distracted by the man. After all, why would he? It’s just a one time occurrence, he’s here as a favour to Vickie and then he’s never going to see him in person again. Hopefully. Unless now, triggered by this meeting, the universe will actually make them run into each other when they’re meeting their friends.
The waiter leads them to one of the more secluded tables, settled in a corner next to the floor length windows — which gives Jimin the safe option to stare out of it, instead of having to look at Jungkook too much. Before he even gets the chance to do so, the younger man swiftly moves to pull his chair out for him, a charming grin shining on his face as he looks down at Jimin. He absolutely hates his stomach for doing that stupid thing where it flips and squeezes at the sight. How is it possible that the rest of his body seems to not be wired to the more reasonable part of his brain?
“Vickie mentioned you usually cover concerts and stuff. Switching to the sports column now?” Jungkook asks immediately after he sits down. There’s curiosity swimming in his dark eyes, brightened only a tiny bit by the amusement that seems to never leave him.
“Not if I can help it. I’m not really a sports person, just doing it as a favour to her.” Jimin shrugs. “Besides, am I not the one that’s supposed to ask the questions here?”
Jungkook raises his hands in mock surrender, leaning back in his seat a little when the waiter places two menus on the table. He doesn’t even reach for it in the first few seconds, simply staring at Jimin, studying him as if he were an interesting exhibit at a newly opened museum, one that is not described perfectly yet.
“You know, you’re trending on social media again.” Jimin starts, one eyebrow raised as he takes his phone out of his pocket. “Do you want me to tell you why or do you already know that?”
Startled, Jungkook laughs. It’s a short, happy sound that turns the heads of some of the other people in the restaurant, though they quickly avert their gazes when they think he’s about to turn around and see them. Jimin can’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile too, his laughter a contagious thing.
“No, I don’t know why,” he hums. “Is it about me and Tae or just me?”
“Just you.”
“Huh. Well, Namjoon hyung has not called me to give me a lecture yet today, so I guess it’s not about someone claiming they have my nudes again,” he shrugs.
Jimin blinks at him, like an owl caught in the middle of the night with a flashlight to its face.
“What? That really happened?”
“Yeah. A few times.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Another question that he’s going to regret in the span of just two days. Jimin’s really out to set a new personal record.
“Did they really have those pictures?”
It takes a moment but Jungkook’s lips curl into a smile so wide that his teeth are on full display and — good lord, why are his teeth so perfect? Did he just.. snatch all the good genes when he was born?
“No comment on that, angel.”
There Jimin’s face goes again — heating up at something Jungkook did, completely against his will. His dignity and self respect is fading with each moment he spends here. And he didn’t even start with the interview.
“Do you mind if I record this?” Jimin asks, tapping his phone with his finger. It’s what he came here to do, not to chat with the bright, talented Formula 1 prodigy.
“Do you mind if I order for you?” Jungkook shoots back with his own question.
“I–” he cuts himself off, then shrugs. It’s not really such an issue if he does so. “Fine. Just no seafood, please.”
“Allergies?”
“No, just pure hatred.”
Jungkook snorts and shakes his head before waving the waiter over. He orders for them without any hesitation whatsoever, a charming smile on his face as he watches the man write down everything in his small notebook. There’s something about him that makes people automatically brighten up a little as he speaks to them, even if it’s just for a brief amount of time, a tiny second that they’re graced with his attention. Jungkook acts almost as if there’s a camera that follows him every single step, always ready to catch him in a compromising position.
When the waiter leaves, Jimin finally starts a recording on his phone, leaning back in his seat. He recalls all the notes that he got from Vickie yesterday and some of the questions that she’s written down for him. Thinking about the interview was much easier when he was at home and not in front of the object of interest.
“So, what’s the first question? How do I feel about the first Grand Prix race this year?” Jungkook drawls. He tilts his head, once again fixing his eyes on Jimin so steadily that the older man squirms a little under the weight of his gaze.
“Nope.” Jimin shakes his head. “Told you, I’m not really a sports guy. I’d rather find out something about you.”
Jungkook raises an eyebrow.
“Sounds like a trap.”
“Well, it’s not.”
“Okay, then. Shoot.”
“Do you miss not being famous?”
The dark-haired man blinks, surprised at the question a little. He leans back in his seat, his arms resting on the sides of the chair and for just a split second there, Jimin’s gaze is drawn to the way that his muscles flex under the black shirt. He doesn’t think there’s any need to have muscles like that when you’re driving a car for a living. Seems completely unnecessary (then again, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jin complain about the way Taehyung is built — he’s constantly doing quite the opposite actually).
“Honestly, I don’t know,” the man in front of him finally speaks up, though he does it slowly, as if he were not sure of his answer yet. “I mean, it’s nice being rich and all. Having people look up to me. Doing what I love. But sometimes.. Well, I miss the quiet sometimes. Not that I’m jumped by paparazzi everywhere I go but just– you know.”
“Not really.” Jimin huffs out a laugh. “I’m not famous, you know.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he teases. “I think what I miss the most is going on walks with my dog with nobody recognizing me. Sometimes I have his shit smeared on my shoe because I stepped into it by accident and someone comes up asking for a picture.”
This time, it’s Jimin who laughs, covering his mouth as he does so. The mental image of Jungkook in such a mundane situation — having his dog’s shit smeared over his expensive shoes — is enough to make him lighten up with amusement.
“So, yeah, being famous is nice and all, at least I think so,” he shrugs. “Having fans is great, you know? People who share your passion with you and support you no matter what. Racing is great and I love it, but I think it’s the fact that there are people cheering me on while I’m on the track that makes it all so amazing. Meeting them is probably one of my favourite things. Not when I have Bam’s shit all over my new shoes, though.”
Jimin doesn’t speak for a moment, taken aback a little by the answer, the softness in Jungkook’s voice when he speaks about the people that support him. He wants to say something, anything, that he appreciates him being so honest with him but before he can, the waiter comes back with their orders this time: a duck breast in a glazed sauce for both of them, a glass of white wine for Jimin and a beer for Jungkook (not a brand that Jimin is familiar with though).
“So, if not racing, what would you be doing with your life?”
“Easy. Probably something to do with design. Or music.” Jungkook says, cutting off a bite of the meat and stuffing it into his mouth, before he speaks up again. “You could say I have a weak spot for creative work.”
“You could also say you lack manners at the table,” the journalist hums, hoping that his phone was able to pick up what Jungkook said, despite it being slightly muffled by the food in his mouth.
Jungkook waves a dismissive hand between them. Jimin rolls his eyes. Even with cheeks puffed out like a hamster that’s afraid of his food disappearing any second now, he looks positively adorable and Jimin thinks that he must be falling weak to the man’s charm too, like the hundreds of people before him. His eyes are glued to the way his fingers flex over the slim handle of the knife, stomach twisting as he imagines them in a completely different scenario.
Focus, Park Jimin.
A scenario that he does his best to kick out of his head. He doesn’t need to think about all that. There’s still a job he needs to do. It’s not like this is the first time he’s seeing an attractive man and not the first time that he’s having dinner with one.
“What about you? If not journalism, then what?” Jungkook asks, once he’s swallowed the mouthful of food.
“Didn’t I say I’m the one asking questions here?”
“Humour me.”
Jimin barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. He blows a strand of his light hair out of his eyes before he even answers the question (he won’t admit it out loud but he does enjoy making Jungkook wait for his answer, leaning forward in his seat as he stares at him with those dark eyes).
“Dancing. I used to do a lot of that when I was younger but it turns out it’s pretty hard to balance that and journalism, especially working where I do,” he finally says. “Don’t get me wrong, being a journalist is great too. I like getting people to open up and showing others things from my perspective, it’s partially why I’m working in the Culture department.”
“Yeah, you do that really well.”
“Sorry?”
“Get people to open up.” Jungkook shrugs, seemingly nonchalant but Jimin easily notices the way his eyes dart to the window, cheeks colouring a little. “Don’t know how you do that.”
Jimin grins, happy that in a way he finally has the upper hand over Jungkook and it’s not him being flustered for once. He wonders how much longer will that continue for.
“Must be my charm.”
“It definitely is.”
He chooses to ignore that sentence, letting it fly like a speck of dirt that’s been blown from a surface. Instead, he takes a bite of the meat too, a happy sound that’s somewhere between a hum and a moan vibrating through him as he does so. His eyes close for a moment and he completely misses the way Jungkook looks at him, lips parting slightly, the tips of his ears reddening just a tiny bit.
“Okay, genuine question – do you often break speed limits?” Jimin asks suddenly, when he spots a speeding car on the street outside out of the corner of his eye.
Jungkook laughs.
“Sometimes, yeah. Happens to the best of us, I’m sure. You’ve never broken one?”
“Nope. I don’t even have my license but I’ve been in Taehyung’s car often enough to know that you guys think speed limits are just a suggestion,” he rolls his eyes. True enough, Tae exceeded the speed limit more than once but somehow, every time he managed to get out of trouble with a charming smile (and sometimes an autograph). “Is it easy to switch between how you need to drive on the track and how you’re supposed to drive on the streets?”
“Yeah, well, the streets are not as fucked to drive through as some of the tracks are, so sometimes it is difficult to switch between the two,” he says. “That and I don’t have to park on the tracks. You have no idea how much of a blessing that is.”
Jimin laughs. He had to suffer through enough of Vickie’s breakdowns when she tried to find a parking spot in the centre of London that he can perfectly understand where Jungkook’s coming from. Especially compared to the fact that he does not need to do that while he’s racing.
“So if finding a parking spot in London is annoying, what is something that calms you down? Before or after a race.”
A blush forms on Jungkook’s cheeks once again and Jimin has to stuff his mouth full of the delicious meat again to not coo at the man in front of him, because the sight is just downright adorable. Lord only knows why. He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who elicited such a wild array of emotions in him — from annoyance, through amusement, to a slight bit of attraction (but that last bit has to stay in his mind for now, he can’t let anyone know).
“I dunno. I like spending time with my dog.”
“And that’s all?”
He groans.
“Park Jimin, you are too good at this, you know. Should’ve been a priest or a detective. You really know how to make people confess,” he huffs and runs a hand through his hair. Once again, Jimin is surprised to see his body react before his mind even can. There’s a familiar kind of heat in his lower stomach, his fingers tingling with the need to see if Jungkook’s hair is as soft to the touch as he thinks they are. “I like watching animated films, I guess.”
“And that’s it?” Jimin raises his eyebrow. The way that Jungkook got all shy, he’d think it’s really something to be embarrassed about. “Come on. That’s not bad.”
“Taehyung made fun of me for it once,” he shrugs.
“Please, as if he doesn’t regularly watch Winnie the Pooh.”
Jungkook’s eyes brighten up and Jimin curses under his breath. He probably shouldn’t have said that but oh, well. Seems like his companion also knows how to make people talk.
“I am so going to use that against him.”
“Don’t tell him I told you that, though.”
To his surprise, Jungkook extends his hand out, his pinky finger uncurled as he stares expectantly at Jimin. He stares at it for a moment, can’t even feel the amused little smile that pulls at his lips. The setting sun shines through the large windows next to them and it illuminates Jungkook so beautifully, that for a moment Jimin forgets completely about why he’s even here.
He laces his pinky through Jungkook’s and lets a giggle slip past his lips when the man squeezes his finger. Just a simple touch and yet it manages to send a shock through Jimin’s body, the sliver of skin that he’s touching warm and soft against his own. If it weren’t for the fact that Vickie trusted him to do this interview without getting distracted by how charming Jungkook is, he thinks he’d be long gone, lost in the dark eyes that never leave him. He hates to admit it but Jungkook really does have an immediate effect on people. It makes him slightly annoyed.
He’s used to attention, he likes it but for some reason, the attention he gets from Jungkook is completely different. It’s almost as if Jungkook’s gaze is programmed to never leave Jimin, to be glued to every single part of him until he memorises him enough to recall each line and curve from memory when they’re not together. Jimin’s body tingles, almost aches with how much he yearns for more of that attention on him, especially when they’re not surrounded by so many people.
He brushes it off though, going back to the task at hand. He goes through the other questions he remembers Vickie writing down in her notebook and adds some of his own — he learns more about Jungkook’s dog and why he even got him in the first place (and that the Doberman didn’t go through the procedures ear cropping and tail docking), about how he met Namjoon (at one of his first trainings when he got into racing and was too scared to talk anyone), about his favourite animes (turns out it’s Chainsaw Man and Naruto) and the computer games he likes to play. They talk and talk and talk and talk and it seems as if their conversation has no end, much to Jimin’s surprise. He’s so used to Jungkook being painted as arrogant, as someone that does things just for attention and seeing him in such a light (especially after he finishes his second bottle of beer) is not something Jimin expected to see on a beautiful Friday afternoon.
“Okay, can I ask a question now?” Jungkook suddenly says, leaning back in his seat again. “Just one, I promise.”
Jimin tilts his head to the side and lifts one eyebrow.
“I don’t know, can you?”
“Oh, come on,” the man in front of him pouts and well– Jimin thinks his brain actually stopped working. It’s gone. He won’t ever experience a logical thought ever again. “You asked me about so many things. Can we take the focus off me for a minute?”
“Alright.”
“Really?”
Yeah, Jimin, really?
“Sure. Shoot.”
The grin that blossoms on Jungkook’s face is as bright as the lights from all the skyscrapers outside. Jimin’s heart stutters. Two minutes and it will be as gone as his brain.
“How do you know Taehyung? I don’t think I ever asked Vickie about that,” he hums.
Jimin blinks. Oh. That’s his question?
“We went to university together. I had this awful asshole of a roommate the first year. He kept leaving his shit all over the room and sometimes stole my things, and– Well, it doesn’t matter. I kept asking to switch for, hm, a month? They couldn’t move me anywhere else until someone miraculously dropped out and one of the rooms had an empty space thanks to that,” he says, recalling all that with a smile. In hindsight, he’d say that it was fate that led to him meeting Taehyung. “Turns out, it was Tae’s room. We hit it off, then moved out of the dorms and started living together. Until he moved in with Jin, of course.”
“So, it was fate.” Jungkook says, his smile sweet as he keeps looking at Jimin. He leaned close over the course of Jimin’s short story and propped his chin up on his hand.
“I guess you could say that,” he shrugs. “How did you meet him?”
“Oh, well, it’s not as exciting as your story. My team booked the track for the same time as his team did by accident. If I’m honest with you, I don’t remember it that well,” he sheepishly says. “All I do remember is telling him that I’ll kick his ass without training.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow. He already knows the answer to his question but feels tempted to ask it anyway.
“And did you?”
“Of course I did.” Jungkook puffs out his chest a little, as if it was one of his biggest achievements. “Anyway, he told me I’m a dickhead then and we kind of hit it off. Or, well, hit it off is an exaggeration. There weren’t a lot of drivers my age when I was just starting and so I kind of stuck myself to him and kept annoying him every chance I got.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Huh?”
“Well, you are pretty annoying.”
Jungkook pouts once again and oh, what is happening to Jimin’s heart?
He redirects the conversation to another topic, once again focusing on Jungkook. That’s enough talking about Jimin.
He briefly wonders if he should thank Vickie for getting sick and asking him to do this interview instead of her but decides against it — she would never let him live it down. And she would definitely mention it to Taehyung, who would then mention it to Jungkook because he’s a little shit.
And when he runs out of questions and sees the sun has long set outside, he decides that it’s time to go home now (and preferably debrief everything that happened on a call with his friends). Jungkook gets his wallet out before he can even say a word when the waiter comes and to distract himself from seeing the actual price for the meal they shared, Jimin decides to gather his phone and stuff it into his bag.
This time, Jungkook isn’t able to pull his chair out of him but he still lets him get in and out of the elevator first, touches the small of his back as he guides him out of the building and into the crisp, evening air. There’s a heated look in his eyes when he looks back at Jimin, cheeks flushed, either from the sudden chill or from all the alcohol they’ve consumed through the course of the evening. There must be something in the air that prompts him to be more bold and Jungkook reaches out to brush a strand of Jimin’s hair out of his face.
“Next time I want to do an exclusive interview, I’ll ask for you to do it,” he says, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “It’s nice when someone doesn’t ask the more obvious questions.”
Jimin snorts.
“What, about that one tattoo you supposedly have?”
And he regrets the words as soon as they make it out of his mouth.
Jimin’s eyes widen at about the same time that Jungkook grins devilishly, leaning forward just a bit, until there’s not a lot of space between them. Jimin wills for the ground to open up and swallow him whole and for the sky to produce a storm and strike down Vickie for even providing him with that information he just let slip. He wonders if it’s possible to die from embarrassment. Maybe he’ll be the first test subject.
“I meant the questions about my cars or my trophies, but...” he cuts himself off, shakes his head and straightens his back. Hands in his pockets and he looks down at Jimin with a smirk. “If you really need the answer to that, I’ll see what I can do. Goodnight, angel.”
Yeah, Jimin is definitely going to die.