Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jimin stirred, squeezing his eyes shut. He pressed his face into the pillow as if that would allow him to escape from the noise that didn’t belong in the quiet of his home. He fought hard, wishing for the comfort of his bed to lull him back to sleep, but his attempts were futile.

He was already wide awake.

In an act of petulance, he raised and slammed his face into the pillow with a groan. He thrashed, wiggling his legs as well, but when the buzzing sound of his phone picked up again, he finally surrendered. He propped himself on his elbows, glancing towards the door.

Jimin didn’t know anyone here, at least not well enough to give them his number.

Whoever was calling must’ve conveniently forgotten about the time zone difference between Australia and wherever the hell they were. That was the only explanation for someone bothering him at—Jimin looked over to the clock standing on his nightstand—6 am.

Huffing angrily for good measure, Jimin pushed himself to sit down. The curtains in his bedroom were closed, but Jimin could see the early sun already greeting him, the luminescent light hitting the wall of his room through the open door and involuntarily making him smile.

With his ankles crossed, Jimin gracefully raised from the bed, jumping down and landing softly on the floor. Padding to the living room, lured by the annoying sound that just refused to give up and leave him alone, he stretched his arms above his head, the t-shirt he was sleeping in riding up and revealing his toned abdomen.

A slight chill ran up his skin, making him realize that he must’ve forgotten to lower down the thermostat before going to sleep. He fixed that now, being glad that he’d slept under a heavy duvet anyway as he’d have probably woken up with a cold otherwise.

The temperature during the day was hot, but it dropped significantly at night. Jimin was still getting used to the climate here, if he had to be honest. It was bizarre enough that it was December and it was already 25 Celsius degrees outside so early in the morning.

Moving away from the thermostat, Jimin turned towards his phone, offended by yet another buzzing sound, when something caught his attention outside his floor-to-ceiling windows. 

There, on the horizon, was a seaplane.

A seaplane that was heading in this direction, and after a few short moments, taking a soft dive and landing skillfully on the water, coming as close to the coastline as possible, stopping practically in front of the beach and simultaneously the building where Jimin lived.

The door of the seaplane opened, and as Jimin squinted, he could swear that the person inside held up something to their ear and just then, there came another buzzing sound.

Jimin frowned.

Already having an extremely bad feeling about it, he no longer took his sweet time, but rather snatched his phone, scrolling through all the notifications, his frown only deepening.

By the end of it, Jimin’s knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the device, barely stopping himself from smashing it against the nearest wall.

Tossing it on the couch instead, Jimin marched back to his bedroom only to grab a pair of shorts as he was only wearing his underwear, and after putting them on, he bristled through the hallway and left his penthouse, storming into the elevator. The ride down took little to no time, and Jimin summoned a smile as the concierge greeted him from the front desk.

“Woke up earlier today, Mr Park?”

Jimin shrugged a little, his eyes flitting to the exit and then back at the man. “I thought it was time that I took a walk down the beach at this hour. The sunrise’s beautiful.”

“It is, it is,” the concierge agreed, looking out through the glass door as well to appraise the weather and the still rising sun outside. “Well, enjoy.”

“Thank you. See you later,” Jimin flashed him another polite smile, keeping up the act just a bit longer, but the second he was out the door, he crossed the street and stomped down the beach, his eyes fixing on the seaplane in the distance and sending daggers towards it.

It was only now that Jimin noticed that he’d forgotten to wear his shoes, but it was better this way as it allowed him to walk fast and with purpose. The closer he got, the more he could make out the smirk plastered on the pilot’s face even though the man was back inside the seaplane, and it was making his blood boil. The audacity of it all. Jimin couldn’t believe it!

At the first touch of the water Jimin froze briefly, measuring the distance between the seaplane and himself, cursing quietly as it hit him that he’d have to swim to reach it whether he wanted it or not. Part of him expected the pilot to relent and bring the seaplane closer to him, but as he waited a second, then two, and it did not happen, he walked further into the ocean, getting his lower body all wet and half of his t-shirt as well.

The door on the passenger side was already opened for him when he climbed into the seaplane, and although reluctantly, Jimin gripped the pilot’s—Jungkook’s, his fucking ex’s—hand and let himself be hauled inside. He didn’t care about getting the seat all wet, shutting the door and immediately tuning to face Jungkook, his nostrils flaring up angrily.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, reaching out and brushing away a lock of hair from Jimin’s face, his gaze gentle as he took him all in. “Did I wake you?”

Jungkook. Always the charmer.

Too bad that it no longer worked on Jimin.

Jimin smacked his hand away. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jungkook casted his eyes down at his hand, flexing his fingers, then taking his hand back as he cleared his throat, meeting Jimin’s eyes again. “Why? I can’t visit you?”

“You live in Seoul,” Jimin deadpanned.

Jungkook brightened up at that. “Oh? You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

Jimin burst that bubble of hope quickly. “Yes, so I could avoid ever seeing you again.”

“Ouch,” Jungkook winced playfully, trying to hide the fact that Jimin’s words had actually cut him inside. Jimin knew him too well to be fooled, but he also didn’t care.

Jungkook deserved it.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’re here or not?”

Jungkook kept the goofy smile a bit longer, but eventually his expression shifted into something a bit more neutral. He was still smiling, just more dimly, his voice becoming softer, a bit more morning-appropriate and Jimin appreciated it.

“Let’s go for a ride. I’ll explain,” Jungkook said, already reaching for the control panel and the yoke, having every intention of starting the seaplane and taking off.

Jimin stopped him by gripping his wrist. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Absolutely not. If there’s anything you want to say, you can say it here. On land.”

Jungkook blinked, his eyes moving from Jimin’s hand on his wrist to his eyes.

“We’re in the ocean.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes threateningly.

Jungkook chuckled, looking rather enamored than scared. “Come on. You never know who listens. And I really do want to talk to you.”

That made no sense at all, but Jimin couldn’t find it in him to say ‘no’.

“Fine. But you better bring me back in one piece.”

Jungkook only grinned in response, getting them out of the water and up into the sky.

Jimin wanted to hate him right now, but Jungkook had a pretty smile. It was one of the things that made Jimin fall in love with him. It was bright, putting his cute bunny teeth all on display. They were older now, but there wasn’t much that changed about Jungkook.

His slightly on the bigger side nose fitted his face more evenly now, and there was a lip piercing in his bottom lip, as well as one in his eyebrow. His hair was sort of a mullet, an interesting statement, and so was his choice of color. It was purple. Jimin’s own hair was dyed red, which was quite bold, but Jimin was already retired. Jungkook was not, and looking like that, he stood out from the crowd a bit too much. Not with just his hair, either.

The weather here was warm, even hot at times, and it was to no surprise that Jungkook was wearing a lightweight tank top. It exposed his arms, revealing his sleeve tattoo on one of them. There were many intricate designs, even Jungkook’s birth flower, but what Jimin’s eyes got stuck on were Jungkook’s knuckles. Jimin had accompanied him to most of the tattoo sessions, and Jungkook had explained to him the meaning and the reason behind every one of his tattoos, but his knuckles tattoos were pretty self-explanatory.

On two of his knuckles, one on each, there were letters.

‘J’ and ‘M’, together being read as ‘JM’.

Short for Jimin.

His name.

Jimin looked away, realizing that he’d been staring too long. Jungkook was aware, but he didn’t say anything about it. In fact, he didn’t say anything, even though it was him who had dragged him all the way here to talk. As if sensing his annoyance, Jungkook glanced at him briefly before focusing back on keeping the seaplane steady and safe.

“That’s a nice penthouse you’ve got there,” Jungkook said, admittedly choosing an odd conversation starter. A dangerous one, even.

Jimin raised his eyebrow. “I’m not gonna apologize if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

“I don’t expect you to. I’m not mad—”

There was more that Jungkook wanted to say, but as though he became aware of how almost dismissive he’d sounded, maybe even insincere, his character broke, giving way into something much more open. Vulnerable.

“I deserved it. I’m the one who should be apologizing. And I would’ve a long time ago—”

“Is this what you came all the way here to talk about?” Jimin cut him off.

Jungkook faltered visibly, looking like he wanted to argue. “No,” he said slowly, thinking better of it, after all. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Well then?” Jimin hurried him up, not even bothering to pretend that he cared all that much, every bit of his body language, not to mention his expression, telling a story of how badly he wished to go home and preferably never see Jungkook ever again.

Jungkook readjusted his fingers on the yoke, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. It was a habit of his, something he did whenever he was irritated or angry. Jealous. It was a gesture that always involved him. Never had Jimin seen him do it for any other reason.

“Alright,” Jungkook said to himself, pushing his feelings aside. They were used to this. Business meant business, and they knew when to drop something instead of pursuing it further. At least Jungkook still did. Jimin had broken that rule. Once. Once too many times.

“Well, I’ll spare you the history lesson, because if there’s anyone who knows everything about it, it’s you. Long story short, I found the name of the private buyer who had acquired the La Peregrina Pearl for 11 million dollars a decade ago on an auction.”

Jimin couldn’t even hide how stunned he was.

It wasn’t a secret.

Jimin liked shiny things. He liked shiny and expensive things, being known for going after either world’s most priceless or beautiful, or both, jewelry pieces.

From necklaces to rings to earrings. Jimin wasn’t picky at all, being happy every chance he got his hands on them all, getting to put them on and walk around as he showed them and himself off. Maybe even let Jungkook fuck him and worship his body while he wore absolutely nothing else besides them. In the past, at least.

Most of them, and once he was done playing with them, he usually sold afterwards. But there were some that he collected. They all had to fit very specific criteria, and one and most important of them all was that they had to have an interesting story.

La Peregrina Pearl worked as a great example.

It was one of the most famous pearls in the world, found in 1513, owned by monarchs, and surviving all the way to their times until it was sold and never seen again. Which was a loss in Jimin’s opinion. It was a pretty piece, having been even re-designed by Cartier, and it was a shame that it was lost to some boring collection instead of being appreciated the way Jimin would do if he had it in his own possession. In other words, it was a perfect job for him.

Too perfect.

“Jungkook, I’m not coming back,” Jimin made it clear, having a feeling that Jungkook wasn’t honest with him at all. That there was an ulterior motive to his offer.

“I know. And I’m not expecting you to,” Jungkook assured him, his words making Jimin scowl for some reason. “I got a word on this piece and I knew you wanted it, so I thought I’d let you know. It’s a two-man job. So if you’re up for one last job for old times’ sake—just as two friends and nothing more—then all you gotta do is say ‘yes’.”

It was tempting.

Jimin wanted to say ‘yes’, but at the same time… He didn’t think going anywhere with Jungkook alone was a good idea. Not just that, but taking on a job after deciding that he was over with that part of his life didn’t seem very appealing, either. Yes, Jimin wanted the Pearl, but he was much less thrilled about actually putting in the effort to get it, if it made sense.

“I’m retired,” Jimin said. “That was thoughtful of you, but I’m gonna pass.”

If it was anyone else, they’d have accepted Jimin’s decision, turned the plane back around and dropped him off back home. Not Jungkook.

A scream left Jimin’s lips as the seaplane suddenly dived and Jimin could see the ocean below them, gaping at them and waiting to swallow them whole.

“Say ‘yes’,” Jungkook said, glancing at him while also strongly holding onto the yoke.

“Oh, my God. You’re going to fucking kill us,” Jimin gasped, his hand gripping onto his chest, the fingers of his other hand digging into the edge of his seat.

“Say ‘yes’, Jimin,” Jungkook repeated himself, and Jimin could hear the smile in his voice. He couldn’t see it as he must’ve closed his eyes at some point.

“I told you, I’m reti—” Jimin screamed again as the plane plunged, nosediving, and scaring the hell out of him. “Fuck, fine! Yes! Yes! I’ll go with you! Just fucking land us down!”

Getting what he wanted, Jungkook complied with his request right away, steading the seaplane and getting them to a horizontal position, one that didn’t make Jimin’s stomach lurch. It took Jimin a while to calm himself down nonetheless, and when he did, he sent Jungkook a murderous glare while also punching him in the shoulder.

Jungkook only laughed. “I promise it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it.”

“Well, I truly doubt that,” Jimin huffed, slowly relaxing his body and letting go of the seat, being belatedly glad for fastening the seatbelt earlier. “But it’s only fitting, you know?”

“What is?”

“La Peregrina Pearl. It’s cursed.”

There was a meaningful pause and then Jungkook said, not even asked, “What.”

“Apparently it brings bad luck to romantic couples,” Jimin said nonchalantly, looking out the window and noticing that they were heading back to the beach.

Jungkook had nothing to say to that, but he was visibly… upset. Jimin could admit that what he’d said was a bit mean, but it still hurt. Jungkook’s rejection. Six months was too soon to forget about it and move on, let alone act like Jimin wasn’t still in love with Jungkook. It was wrong, but it could be why Jimin was so keen on hurting him back.

It didn’t make him a good person, but who said he was?

He was already a thief, after all.

“Okay—” Jimin broke the awkward silence “—text me the details. I’m guessing we’re leaving today, so I’ll start packing and uh, I’ll meet you at the airport in a bit.”

Even though Jungkook was focused on maneuvering the plane to land, that didn’t stop him from giving Jimin an incredulous look. “What? No. We’ll go together.”

“And how do you see that happening? Do you really think it’s legal for you to leave your little plane here?” Jimin asked him, being ready to fight tooth and nail just to get away from Jungkook for a little while before they’d be stuck in a plane for hours.

He must’ve forgotten how great of an opponent Jungkook was, matching his stubbornness and excelling in getting what he wanted whenever he wanted it.

“We won’t be long. Besides, it’s a rich neighborhood. Money talks here, babe. Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I won’t let you get in trouble because of me.”

“Well, that’s very reassuring, but clearly my hint must’ve gotten lost on you so I’ll just say it. I don’t want you in my house. Frankly, the less time we spend together, the better.”

Jungkook hummed, not really listening to him, the boat bumping slightly over the ocean’s surface as they finally landed, drifting for a moment longer, Jungkook taking them closer to the shore this time until they stopped at last. That just proved to Jimin that Jungkook had done it on purpose before, getting him wet just to get back at him, if only a little.

Jimin didn’t repeat himself, knowing that there was no point. Jungkook’s mind had been already made, and unless Jimin wished to start a fight, it was better to just let it go. He’d have to get used to Jungkook’s presence anyway, and he might as well start now.

They didn’t really talk as Jungkook anchored the seaplane, then helped him down into the water once he was done. Neither when they made it to the beach, the legs of their shorts wet and feet covered in sand as they walked into the building, being greeted by the concierge.

Jimin only laughed awkwardly, straight up grabbing Jungkook by his tank top and dragging him to the elevator when he winked at the man behind the desk, asking him how he was doing. Walking in, looking like a mess and with a tattooed stranger who didn’t look any better, was already embarrassing enough for Jimin. He really didn’t need more and by that he meant giving Jungkook an opportunity to do or say something even worse.

They had to go back to the seaplane the same way, so Jimin didn’t bother giving Jungkook a towel to clean or dry himself, barely shoving a pair of slippers into his hands and telling him to wait in the living room while he himself disappeared into the bathroom.

Jimin didn’t even know where they were going. He’d assumed that they’d go to an airport first, and he was right, but what was their final destination and how long their flight was going to be, he had no clue. He took a shower anyway, if only just so he’d hate himself a bit less after spending hours in a plane and breathing the same air as hundreds of other people.

When he walked into his bedroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel, Jungkook was sitting on his bed and scrolling down on his phone. Jimin could immediately feel his cheeks growing warm, and the worst was that he wasn’t sure whether it was from anger or embarrassment.

“I told you to wait in the living room.”

Jungkook looked up from his phone at the sound of his voice, having enough decency not to trail his eyes all over his body but rather stick to looking at his face only.

“Well, yeah. But then I remembered that you don’t know where we’re going,” he said, closing his phone and stuffing it back into his shorts. He leaned back on his arms, sitting comfortably. “You should pack warm. It’s summer here, but not in Vienna.”

Jimin blinked. “We’re going to Vienna?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Why?” Jimin asked as if the answer wasn’t obvious, turning his back on him and opening his closet. “Jungkook, we’re in Gold Coast. It’s gonna take us forever to get to Vienna.”

“I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Since Jungkook wasn’t planning on leaving, Jimin made quick work of dressing himself, going back into the bathroom only to leave the towel to dry and grab his toiletry bag. He dropped it on the bed next to Jungkook, walking with purpose and retrieving a duffel bag from his closet. He packed lightly, not taking more things than he needed in case their plan went astray and they were forced to grab their stuff and run.

“So?” Jimin asked after a while, being almost done. Jungkook’s eyes had never left him, watching him in silence. “Are you gonna tell me who bought the Pearl?”

“Well…” Jungkook hesitated.

It was a small thing, but it made Jimin pause and promptly look at him. “Yes?”

Jungkook didn’t look very forthcoming, appearing as though he’d prefer to keep that little detail to himself. That made all the alarms blare in Jimin’s head.

It pushed Jungkook against the wall.

Unless he came forward, Jimin wasn’t going to go anywhere with him. Jungkook knew that.

He started off awkwardly, “That would be our dear old friend—”

“Jungkook.”

“Look, it’s fine,” Jungkook rushed to say, a bit annoyed and downplaying his worries. “I doubt he even remembers us. We’ll just go in, take what we need, and leave.”

“We stole 15 million dollars in artifacts from him! Oh, I bet he remembers!”

“Ten years ago!” Jungkook argued.

“This is suicide,” Jimin muttered to himself, tossing his shirt into the bag and dropping on the bed as well. “The second he realizes we’re there, he’s gonna kill us.”

“No. No, no,” Jungkook didn’t agree with him, shaking his head. “He’s organizing a birthday party for his daughter. It’s a masquerade ball. All we need to do is blend in, get the Pearl and whatever else we feel like it and leave. He won’t even notice that we’re there.”

Jimin gave him a skeptical side eye. “How are you gonna get us into a birthday party?”

“Jimin, his daughter’s twenty, not five,” he explained, that charming smile of his returning to his face. “We’ll get in with no problem. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

Jimin wasn’t so sure, but he’d already agreed. It wasn’t like he could just back out. He just had to trust that Jungkook had everything figured out and wasn’t going to get them killed.

He pushed himself to stand up, tucking everything neatly in the duffel bag and zipping it all the way up. “Well, I’m ready. Shall we go?”

It took them more than a day to get from Australia to Austria, and by the time they walked into their hotel, all Jimin was thinking about was face-planting on the bed and sleeping for the rest of the week. He was tired, his body going into shock from the sudden change of temperature, the cold seeping into his bones even though he’d only walked from the taxi to the entrance. He felt uncomfortable in his skin, the dried sweat clinging onto his back, making him wish of taking a shower and changing into a fresh set of clothes.

Jimin was still awake enough to take in the hotel Jungkook had booked for them, feeling extremely underdressed as he saw a few other guests milling about, dressed in the prettiest of gowns and expensive tuxedos. There was generational wealth emanating from them, making Jimin feel small and out of place. He could afford being here, but he wasn’t one of them.

Even in the foyer and as he looked up, there were crystal chandeliers shining above him, illuminating the whole room along with the crystal sconces. There was a big Christmas Tree in the corner, as well as Christmas decorations on the front desk. Soft music was pouring out from the radio nearby, and it was sort of magical, especially paired with the snow outside.

Jimin had lost himself in the moment for a bit, but as he snapped out of it, moving away from the entrance, he caught up to Jungkook who was standing by the front desk and checking them in. Jimin let him handle everything, from the flights to the hotel, not being in the mood to interact with anyone. It was only six months so far, but Jimin needed a minute to get used to the feeling and remind himself how it was like to live a double life.

“The butler will take you to your room,” the concierge said in English with a thick German accent, pointing to his right and asking them to wait there just a moment.

Jungkook thanked him and they went to stand at the bottom of the stairs, the small staircase leading to a bigger one being covered with a beautiful red carpet and having another crystal chandelier hanging right above it. The whole place brimmed with history, transporting him back in time to the 19th century, making him remember their old days.

It wasn’t their first elegant hotel like this. They were known to splurge, booking only the best of rooms and staying in them for days just because they could.

However, it was going to be their last.

The butler showed up, asking to carry their bags for them, but just like they did earlier when the concierge had asked them the same and offered to call a bellboy for them, they politely refused, trailing behind the man up the stairs. It didn’t take them long to reach their room and just as the butler stepped inside, about to show them around, they tipped him heavily and sent him away.

Jimin didn’t linger in the entrance, passing by the two doors on his left and taking a turn right to enter their bedroom. Although, it was a bit of an understatement to call it a simple bedroom as the room was enormous, and probably nothing like he’d ever seen before.

It was fitted for a king, with its big bed—the intricate design of the bed frame catching his eye, its white colors with small accents of gold, as well as the Cherub figures adorning it—a dressing table in one corner, a fireplace in the other one. Right up front and across the room, there was a tall mirror hanging on the wall, on its left a desk, and on the right a long lounging chair and a dresser with a TV that stood out like a sore thumb among the whole decor.

To fit the aesthetic of the hotel, there were also two chandeliers in the room.

The tapestry was kept in gold, the walls of the room white, with a few pops of dark blue here and there—including the bedsheets and two ottoman chairs standing at the foot of the bed—as well as two red carpets—one in front of the bed, the other under the desk.

Amazingly enough, it wasn’t even all.

To his right, there was another door, more than likely leading to the living quarters. But Jimin felt like he’d seen enough and didn’t wander off to explore it. He dropped his bag on the carpet, shaking off his coat, followed by a scarf and a hat. He tossed it all on the ottoman.

“A royal suite, huh?” Jimin hummed to himself, walking up to one of the windows and looking outside. It was already dark out, the visibility being low because of the falling snow. To give them even more privacy, Jimin took a walk around the room, closing all the curtains.

“Only the best for you,” Jungkook answered sweetly, mirroring his steps and shedding off the extra layers of clothing as well. Once he was done, he plopped down on the long chair, chucking off his boots and then stretching out his legs with a satisfied groan.

Jimin rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto his lips. He didn’t want to give Jungkook the wrong idea, though, and heard himself asking, “So when are you leaving? I’d like to take a bath if you don’t mind and go to bed.”

Jungkook frowned, opening his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“There’s only one bed,” Jimin pointed out, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Yes, and it’s big enough, honey.”

Jimin could feel his lips pressing into a thin line as he tried to stifle how annoyed that comment had made him before he said, “Yes, and we’re not sharing it.”

Jungkook sighed, pushing himself up and dropping his feet on the ground. “It’s just three nights, Jimin. Can we really not bury the hatchet just for three days?”

It was reasonable.

They should for the sake of the job, but something did not add up here. To be fair, Jimin didn’t know anything except for the fact that they were going to steal the Pearl as they hadn’t discussed anything yet. He just didn’t think that it’d require three days for them to do that.

“Three days? Why are we staying here for so long? I thought you’ve had everything planned out already and simply needed a second pair of hands to get it done.”

“It’s Christmas season, and it’s a long way from Australia to here as you know. In case our flight got canceled or something, I thought it’d be wise to arrive a bit earlier.”

Jimin couldn’t argue with that logic. In fact, he should’ve known. They were always careful like that, never leaving anything up to fate as anything going wrong could end up with them going straight to jail in the worst case scenario, or simply being unable to fulfill the job.

“Right. Good call.”

Jungkook smiled a little at that, sensing that the worst was behind them and the situation had been defused enough for Jimin to let go for now. Part of Jimin wanted to prove him wrong, but in the end he was too tired to do that. He gave Jungkook a lazy smile in return as he removed his shoes and started digging in his duffel bag.

“We can walk around the city tomorrow if you’d like. It’s been a while since we’ve been in Vienna. Nothing probably changed, but it’s Christmas, so it must be nice out.”

Jimin stopped with his toiletry bag and his pajamas set in his hands, a wave of memories flooding his mind and making him smile. Maybe things were different between them now, but that was never going to change that they’d made many great memories together over the years, decades even, that they’d known each other. Memories he treasured.

“We really did just walk around the last time. We couldn’t afford anything,” he chuckled. “We were barely hanging by. We spent our last money on two tickets to Vienna.”

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Well, no. You still used to put me first back then,” Jimin said before he could stop himself, already knowing that he’d ruined the moment. The smile slipped from his face and he let go of a sigh, not daring to look at Jungkook, especially after he heard him getting up.

“Jimin—”

“Anyway,” Jimin didn’t let him get a word in, “I’m gonna take a bath.”

Jimin left the bedroom, placing his pajamas on the ottoman, while the toiletry bag on the counter by the sink. He glanced around, being impressed by the marble tiles on the floor and covering the walls, the chandelier right atop of him getting a chuckle out of him.

He backtracked a bit, blindly reaching his hand behind his back and searching for the doorknob to close the door. He startled when fingers gripped onto his hand and pulled the door closed while pushing him inside. When he threw his head back over his shoulder, Jungkook was standing behind him, holding onto his own toiletry bag and a pajamas set.

“I’ll take a shower in the meantime,” he explained, not resuming their conversation from earlier, actually acting like it hadn’t happened at all. Jimin appreciated it.

Jimin hadn’t noticed before, but there was, indeed, a shower beside the bathtub. There was even a bidet, which was unexpected. But that wasn’t the point.

Jimin didn’t quite feel like washing himself at the same time and in the same room as his ex, but as Jungkook maneuvered around him, settling down his things and beginning to remove his clothes, he lost the will to fight.

It was late. They were both tired and wanted to go to sleep. And they’d seen each other naked many times before, so it wasn’t really a big deal. At least Jimin was going to make sure that it wasn’t a big deal for him. He was over Jungkook. End of story.

He continued being over him when he opened his eyes after dozing off in the hot bath and saw Jungkook standing in front of him completely naked, humming a song under his nose and snatching a towel from the hanger behind him to towel himself dry, even though there were plenty of fresh towels being neatly tucked underneath the both sinks.

Jimin felt absolutely nothing as water droplets ran down from Jungkook’s chest, to his abdomen, disappearing into his navel… Jimin shut his eyes firmly, taking an inconspicuous breath. Jungkook was doing this on purpose. Of course he was. He was acting like he wasn’t, not even acknowledging Jimin, but Jimin knew him well enough to know the truth.

He was stubborn enough to not let him win.

When he finally dragged himself out of the bathtub, finished the rest of his routine and went to the bedroom, all the lights were turned off except for the nightstand on the empty side of the bed. Jungkook was turned on his back, seemingly already asleep.

Jimin joined him on the bed, tugging his half of the duvet all over his head and curling underneath it, but before he let sleep overtake all his senses and embrace him tightly until he fell asleep, he whispered into the quiet of the room, “Goodnight.”

Unlike Jungkook, who didn’t struggle at all, indicating that he might’ve already been somewhere in Europe before his impromptu trip to Australia—although he refused to tell Jimin whether that was the case—Jimin needed a bit more time to get used to the new timezone. It helped that he was tired, but it still wasn’t until the late afternoon that he turned around in bed, being ready to welcome the day. And Jungkook.

“Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” Jungkook said, sitting at the desk with his laptop and promptly pausing his work. “Do you want me to order room service? Or would you rather go out to eat something? There is also a cake and some sweets the hotel has prepared for us as a welcome gift in the living room. Apparently it’s their signature cake.”

That didn’t sound too bad.

“Is there coffee as well?” Jimin asked, this time sitting down and stretching himself as a big yawn escaped his lips. He quickly dropped his arm, covering his mouth with his hand.

“I’ll make you a cup,” Jungkook offered, getting up from the desk.

Jimin thanked him quietly, leaving the warmth of the bed and refreshing himself and getting ready in the bathroom in the meantime. When he headed to the living room, he didn’t pay much mind to the decor, nor Jungkook sitting on the couch and waiting for him, his eyes immediately falling on the clothes rack that stood a bit to the side.

Jimin wasn’t much of a historian—he liked shiny things and usually learned their history, but that was the extent of his knowledge—and couldn’t say how historically accurate the clothing was, but what he could tell was that something was very clearly amiss.

“Why’s there only one tuxedo?” he asked, eyeing the fancy ball gown next to it.

“Because of traditions,” Jungkook answered simply, his voice sounding a bit muffled. When Jimin looked, he appeared to be stuffing his mouth with cake and washing it down with champagne. “Only heterosexual couples are allowed the entrance to most balls here.”

Jimin made a face, not liking where this was going.

“I know, right? Scandalous.”

Jimin strode towards the rack, taking the soft but heavy fabric into his hands. The gown was beautiful, extremely so, in the color of ivory, with dull and baby pink details, as well as a pink skirt, its bodice tight, the short sleeves puffy. Jimin liked the simplicity of it.

He liked the dress even, but as he gave it a thorough inspection, he couldn’t help but think that the elegant tuxedo didn’t belong to him. 

The dress did.

“What’s scandalous is that you expect me to wear it,” Jimin said, letting go of the dress and turning around, turning his glare on Jungkook who didn’t even pretend to look guilty.

“It’s a princess dress and you like role-playing. Taehyung said you’d love it.”

Jimin sputtered, his cheeks turning red. “You talked to Taehyung about it?”

“He chose the dress,” Jungkook admitted with an innocent shrug.

Jimin’s head was spinning. His own best friend, conspiring against him with his ex… Was there something going on that Jimin wasn’t aware of? Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t heard from Taehyung ever since Jungkook had reappeared in his life. It was unusual, because despite living so far away from each other, they talked daily. Unless Taehyung was on a job, but as far as Jimin was concerned, Taehyung wasn’t working at the moment.

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” Jimin eventually gave up. After all, just like Jungkook had implied, he didn’t mind wearing the dress. He knew he was going to look cute in it. It was simply the shock of Jungkook choosing that outfit for him that had taken him aback.

Something flashed in Jungkook’s eyes, and instead of letting it go and keeping the atmosphere lighthearted, he became serious for a moment. Almost… sad.

“So many things. But I’m afraid you don’t want to hear them.”

Jimin swallowed hard, but he didn’t say anything.

It hurt, but it was true.

He didn’t.

Jimin got a little addicted to the infamous torte that was served with a bit of whipped cream, which was pretty much a chocolate cake, but it was so delicious that he couldn’t stop eating it. He had to, though, if he wanted to fit into the dress by the end of the day.

To occupy himself until the ball, he walked around the city a bit, alone, going shopping and taking lots of pictures. It was a bit odd sightseeing without company, definitely not something he was used to, but it was better than going with Jungkook and acting like they were fine. They weren’t, but he didn’t want to ruin his mood and dwell on it too much.

When he came back to the room, dropping shopping bags by the ottomans and shaking off his coat, Jungkook was standing by the desk and examining something. By the looks of it, the last two remaining pieces of their costumes had arrived during Jimin’s absence.

Jimin stopped next to him, gazing at the masks they were going to wear, his attention being quickly stolen by the blueprints of the mansion where the ball was being held. Jungkook noticed and pushed the masks aside, bringing the blueprints to the center of the table.

“This is the main ballroom,” Jungkook pointed his finger at one of the biggest rectangles. He didn’t ask Jimin about his shopping experience nor how his day was. He was upset, if Jimin had to guess, but it was a good thing that they didn’t have to talk about it.

“Once we’re a good hour or two into the ball, I’ll sneak out at some point and make my way here, down to the basement,” he continued, trailing his finger between the floors, and from one room to another. “I’ll cut off the main power source. That will give us approximately two minutes of total blackout before the backup generators kick in and the lights turn on again.

“That’s where you come in. You’ll exit here, take the stairs up and head to the east wing—” Jimin looked more closely, doing his best to memorize the route he’d have to take “—at the end of the hallway, you’ll turn right and take the first door on your left. That’s the main office. That’s where the safe is as well. It’s a typical wall safe, hiding behind a painting. The old school model, nothing for us to worry about. I doubt it’ll pose a challenge for you.”

Jungkook was probably right, but Jimin had a few concerns.

“You expect me to make it all the way there in the dark while avoiding the security? And won’t the guests just use the flashlights on their phones? Any suspicious activity will be immediately noticed, and more than likely recorded as well.”

“No phones are allowed inside. They’ll be collected at the door and stored safely for the entirety of the ball. The security will be carrying walkie-talkies only, and we could jam their signal if you want, but I wouldn’t worry about them. They’ll be concerned more with the power outrage and the guests than anything else. Aside from the few jewelry pieces we’re going to steal, there’s nothing of value there, except for the house itself.”

“And that isn’t odd to you?”

“Not really. It’s a birthday party. Lots of young people. The mansion is modern, a recently completed project. He must’ve chosen this location for this specific reason. And we’ll use the distraction and meet here, at the fire escape. I’ll expect you to have the Pearl already with you.”

Jimin sucked his bottom lip inside his mouth, nibbling on it. He couldn’t tell what it was, but there was something bothering him. All of it, it seemed too easy. Too convenient for his taste. He’d even go as far as to say that the whole plan was sloppy, not sophisticated at all.

Park Jimin didn’t do ‘sloppy’, whether he was retired or otherwise, he had class.

Nothing about this screamed ‘class’.

There was also the matter of the owner of the house. A figure that had crossed their paths in the past. He was a dangerous man, surrounding himself with a dangerous crowd.

Was Jimin really supposed to believe that the ball would be attended only by young people—who apparently weren’t allowed to use their phones and were absolutely going to respect the host’s wish—and no associates of his, most of them well armed and not afraid to kill? That the security would be so irresponsibly organized and wouldn’t keep an eye on the one room that held the valuables of the owner of the mansion hidden within?

There was one thing Jimin could believe, though. If the house was as new as Jungkook had claimed, then it made sense for its interior to be lacking as it was a known fact that his owner had a rather expensive taste and loved to surround himself with antiques that were worth millions.

But in that case, why was the Pearl there?

Jimin glanced at Jungkook. His ex wasn’t telling him something, but Jimin still trusted him. And if the job had been approved by Taehyung who had picked the dress himself, then it had to be legit, even though Jimin would be going into it completely blind.

“In other words… We just go in, take the Pearl and leave?”

“Pretty much,” Jungkook said with a shrug.

Jimin stepped back from the table, turning around and going to the dressing table where his makeup was already waiting for him.

“Let’s start getting ready then or else we’ll be late.”

Just as they handed their coats to the cloakroom attendant and Jungkook placed his hand on the small of his back, guiding him to the ballroom, Jimin’s earlier suspicion of something not being right started becoming a reality. It was hard to tell because of the masks everyone was wearing, but based on the guests’ behavior, everyone here was, indeed, young.

As they walked through the ballroom, Jimin’s heart was shaking in his chest as the music was loud and the bass was pumping, making him wonder whether it was even safe, considering the crystal chandeliers shimmering in the gleam of neon lights. Which was the exact problem. Instead of an elegant ball that even actual royalty wouldn’t feel ashamed to attend, surrounded by this particular environment, Jimin was reminded more of a rave.

The cheapness of it was overwhelming. The attires everyone wore looked more like Halloween costumes than actual garments that would be fitting of an upper class, and Jimin couldn’t help but feel offended on the host’s behalf. However spoiled his daughter was, a man of such a caliber would absolutely not throw a party like this. Jimin refused to believe it.

Not that Jimin didn’t like it.

He was in his early thirties, but he could still party. He could hold his alcohol better now, too. In fact, if someone challenged him to a drinking game, he was sure that—

Jimin froze as he felt a soft kiss being placed on his nape.

“You’re being distracted,” Jungkook said to his ear, loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to gather the attention of other attendees.

Jimin wished he could have something to drink, but he didn’t think it was necessary for them to stay here that long and it was probably better for him to stay sober.

The quests were already occupied enough for them to get on with their plan, and the sooner they got out of here, the faster Jungkook would explain to him what was going on and what game he was playing. And who the hell was the person this mansion belonged to, because certainly it wasn’t the man who wanted them both dead.

He turned in Jungkook’s arms, signaling for him to go ahead and turn off the lights. Jungkook was a bit hesitant, visibly preferring to wait like he’d planned, but Jimin was quite stubborn, not giving up until Jungkook let go of him and disappeared into the crowd with a frown.

Through a body of dancing people, Jimin moved to where he was supposed to be as well, waiting for the signal that came a few minutes later. The lights turned off, and so did the music, making Jimin hear and make out the actual chatter around him. However, the confusion lasted only a few seconds, because not only no one cared and proceeded to party hard, but also everything turned back on a few seconds after, making it official.

Jimin despised this job.

Jungkook approached him a song later, wearing a silly grin on his face. One that was enough to piss Jimin off, but unlike this garbage of a party, Jimin was classy and wasn’t going to cause a scene. They weren’t supposed to draw anyone’s attention anyway.

But what other choice did they have?

Thankfully they were good at improvising, and even though it was the last thing Jimin wanted, he pulled Jungkook closer to him, placing his hands on his waist and looking at him pointedly under the neon nights. It was dark enough that they could slip out undetected, and Jungkook seemed to get the hint this time around because his grip on him tightened.

Jungkook didn’t just go for it, though, checking up with him instead by looking deep into his eyes and waiting for a confirmation. Jimin didn’t give him one, grabbing the front of his jacket and just slamming their lips together.

It wasn’t their first rodeo.

They’d done something like this many times before, but Jimin supposed it was different this time. They weren’t together anymore, and it was quite noble that Jungkook didn’t kiss him back, but they didn’t have time for that. Jimin didn’t pull away, only doubled down, challenging Jungkook. And Jungkook…

Well, he never backed out of a challenge.

Jimin had told himself—or at the very least had briefly thought about it—that as soon as he and Jungkook were out of the ballroom and anyone’s sight he’d push Jungkook away and continue on with their embarrassment of a heist.

What he’d forgotten to take into account was that Jungkook’s kisses were magical and it was more difficult than it should’ve been to actually separate himself from him.

In fact, it’d been a couple of minutes and they were still kissing.

Jungkook had him pressed against the wall, his arms caging him in as he was practically devouring him, their masks coming undone and being discarded a while ago, kissing him like he was drowning and Jimin was the breathing air he needed to survive.

It was dizzying and overwhelming, but in the best ways possible, and it shouldn’t have been. He and Jungkook weren’t together for a reason, but how could Jimin explain that to his body that was responding to Jungkook so well? That had missed him so damn much?

It was a dangerous path to follow, and Jimin was smarter than that.

He turned his head to the side, breaking the kiss.

Jungkook was surprised, grazing his cheek and searching for his lips before taking notice of Jimin leaning away from him. He cleared his throat, taking a step back and judging by the sound as Jimin wasn’t ready to look at him, adjusting his jacket. 

Jimin waited, fanning his face a little and not moving from where he was.

Jungkook, on the other hand, must’ve pulled out his phone—one that he’d kept well hidden when they were entering the house—as not even a second later a dimmed light hit Jimin in the face, blinding him. They both cursed, Jimin looking away, while Jungkook apologized.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook said, clearly pushing his feelings aside and leading the way.

Trying not to feel too guilty, Jimin followed behind him, grabbing the dress by its sides and lifting it off the floor to be able to walk faster and in case needed, even run. The crinoline underneath was heavy and uncomfortable, and Jimin couldn’t wait to get out of it.

“You lied, by the way,” Jimin whispered out of nowhere, surprising even himself. He wasn’t sure why, but the silence bothered him, even though they were supposed to be quiet.

Jungkook looked at him from over his shoulder, then continued ahead.

“About what?”

“I’ve seen plenty of gay couples at the party. I did not have to wear this dress. And yes, a party, because that was certainly not a fucking ball. You’ve sold me a pretty picture, but the reality was really fucking disappointing and we are going to talk about it once we’re out of here.”

Jungkook sat on Jimin’s words as they climbed the stairs, turning around to face him once they reached the top and startling him. Their eyes had already met in the dim light, and to not appear to be a coward, Jimin maintained eye contact this time.

“You’re right, I did,” Jungkook admitted without an ounce of guilt. “I was actually hurt when you left without a word. I thought I could make your life a bit difficult—hence this job—but it backfired, clearly. You look absolutely stunning in this dress.”

The compliment was a nice touch, something that almost made Jimin start purring. It also served as a reminder. Jungkook knew him. He knew what to say and what to do to placate him. Distract him. It wasn’t going to work. As much as Jimin was confident in how he looked, he wasn’t that easy to please nor forgive. Not when he remembered everything from that fateful day as though it happened yesterday.

“Why don’t we settle?” he’d asked Jungkook, both of them lying in bed, wrapped up in each other, Jungkook running his fingers through his hair, Jimin leaving kisses on his chest.

“Settle? And do what?”

It was the tone of Jungkook’s voice that had rubbed him the wrong way. Jungkook had sensed it, because he’d stopped playing with his hair. Jimin had propped himself on his elbows, looking up at him with a tilt of his head and a frown distorting his features.

“What do you mean? Be together. We’ve got money. A lifetime of adventures behind our belt. We don’t need more. We could leave right now and never look back.”

Jungkook was careful as he was choosing his words, but it’d stung then and it stung now as Jimin recalled them, “Jimin, this is us. This job is all we have.”

Jimin had placed his head back on Jungkook’s chest, his voice a mere whisper, an afterthought as he’d said, “I thought we’ve had each other. That it was enough.”

The next day, Jimin was gone.

He’d taken all the money they’d stolen a few days before, going off the grid. It was childish. He was definitely overreacting, but he was hurt and he didn’t care at the time.

It’d been a random thought on his part. To settle down. It wasn’t something that they’d had to decide right away. It was the door opening, a start to a conversation that Jungkook hadn’t entertained, not really. Not in the way Jimin had hoped he would.

The dismissal in Jungkook’s voice had felt foreign to Jimin. The fact that Jungkook had found the idea of settling down with him ridiculous was enough for him to grab his go bag and leave, even though they were still technically on the job at that time. 

He hadn’t left any notes. No letters. Nothing. No hints as to where he’d gone.

That, in itself, was a message that was loud and clear. Jimin had told their mutual friends, though, not wanting them to worry. They all worked together, Jungkook included, and it was important for them to know to never contact him about a job ever again or update him about whatever Jungkook was up to. Jimin didn’t expect them to take sides, and neither of them did. Jungkook was their friend, too, and Jimin respected that.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen. For Jungkook to run after him? Beg him for forgiveness? Apologize to him? Neither did. Jungkook had kept calling him for a while, sending him text messages as well, trying to get in touch with him to talk.

Jimin hadn’t answered. Not even once. Then, one day, everything stopped.

And yet here they were, being back together on a job.

What a fucking joke, he couldn’t help but think.

“I know,” was what he answered instead, turning Jungkook around and giving him a pat on his back. “Now let’s keep going.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Yeah. We’re almost there.”

Jimin knew that, having memorized the floor’s layout, but he didn’t say anything. They took a turn at the end of the hallway, and Jungkook opened the door, walking in first and looking from left to right to make sure that they were alone. Once he was, Jimin pushed past him, his mouth going slack almost immediately when he saw one single desk in the middle of the room and a safe standing on it.

The safe was opened.

And Jimin lost it.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, turning around just as Jungkook closed the door.

The curtains were drawn, and Jungkook turned on the lights, not afraid that someone was going to spot any suspicious activity in a room that should otherwise stay unoccupied.

They both blinked, letting their eyes readjust, but shortly after, Jimin was right up in Jungkook’s space, glaring at him and stabbing his chest with his finger angrily. Jungkook remained unfazed, which only added fuel to the fire.

“You didn’t need me for this job. I mean, it’s hardly even a job! It’s humiliating. This whole thing. And if you think that I’m gonna believe that this house truly belongs to—”

“It doesn’t,” Jungkook cut him off, as calm as ever, although having the decency to tone his smugness down and not provoke him. “It does belong to some rich kid, but he’s got nothing to do with the guy we know. That’s a good thing. He won’t even notice that the jewelry’s missing. He probably doesn’t even expect that someone would bother stealing it. But it is shiny and valuable, so it’s in a safe. It’s technically in a safe.”

“All right. But why am I here?”

It was Jungkook’s turn to frown. “It’s you who wanted the Pearl, need I remind you. Why should I do all the heavy lifting?”

“Heavy lifting? The safe isn’t even closed!” Jimin threw his arm in the safe direction, pointing at it accusingly. “Besides, it’s the least you could’ve done. After everything.”

Before Jungkook could answer anything, Jimin chickened out and went to check out the safe.

“Anyway, never mind. Let’s grab the Pearl and leave before anyone notices.”

With the lights on, Jimin had a clear view of the safe’s contents and could confirm that there was a handful of jewelry being sloppily scattered around and unevenly distributed between the two shelves. There were a bunch of rings, some bracelets and necklaces, but nothing that looked remotely close to the Pearl.

Jimin reached inside, touching everything and looking around, but just like he’d thought, the Pearl wasn’t here.

He backed away slowly, turning sideways to see both Jungkook and the safe, his expression shifting into something way more wary as he crossed his arms on his chest, trying to pretend that he had at least an ounce of control of the situation.

“It’s not here.”

“Are you sure? Let me see.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he answered, his tone clipped.

He moved out of the way, though, his eyes not leaving Jungkook and watching him like a hawk as he reached his hand inside the safe. Jungkook schooled his expression, but Jimin still saw the slight rise of the corners of his lips, figuring out that he was fighting down a smile, and it pissed him off even more.

Jungkook felt around inside, but when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he finally shifted his eyes to locate it and when he actually did, pinching it with his fingers and lifting it for Jimin to see with a smug grin, all Jimin could do was stare.

“I told you it was here,” Jungkook said, wiping the small ring he was holding against the front of his jacket, then taking a look at the two shiny stones.

A sapphire and a diamond.

Jimin didn’t understand anything. That was not the Pearl, not even close, but he recognized the ring.

Why the hell was it here?

By the looks of it, it was their target, but why had Jungkook lied to him? Why tempt him with the Pearl when this was what he wanted from the beginning?

“Look, I’m a history noob,” Jungkook started, making Jimin realize that he’d said everything out loud, “but I know you like these things so I figured that it’d be perfect for the occasion.”

“Jungkook, that’s Napoleon Bonaparte’s engagement ring. Or to be more specific, Josephine’s, his wife. He proposed to her with it. It was sold for almost one million dollars at an auction. How the hell is it just sitting here in an open safe?”

“It’s a long story, but it’s here and now it’s mine. And soon it’s going to be yours. Hopefully,” Jungkook said, stopping in front of him, his eyes full of vulnerability that Jimin didn’t expect to see. Not right now. Not even in a million years.

“What do you mea—” Jimin attempted to say, but that was when Jungkook decided to lower himself on his one knee, and Jimin was quick to blurt out, “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked with a shaky, a bit nervous, but encouraging smile as he held the ring out to Jimin.

“Jungkook, we’re not together.”

Jungkook scoffed.

“I’m clearly trying to fix that, am I not?”

“You can’t just propose to me,” Jimin protested weakly, yet didn’t pull back when Jungkook took his hand, bringing it to his lips and leaving a soft kiss against his knuckles.

“Well, I am. And you can’t stop me,” he answered in a way that wasn’t leaving much room to argue, still holding Jimin’s hand with one hand, while moving his other hand with the ring closer. “Park Jimin, will you please—”

“Especially not with this ring,” Jimin quickly said, sounding breathless, his cheeks burning. He was stalling. He had to. Otherwise there was a big chance that he was going to say ‘yes’ in the heat of the moment, and he was definitely going to regret that later.

“Why n—Wait, don’t fucking tell me it’s cursed, too.”

“Well, no… but they did cheat on each other and got a divorce, so…”

“Fuck.”

Jungkook looked at the ring as though it’d personally offended him.

So angry like this, he looked kind of cute.

“Did you… did you just look up historical jewelry online and choose the first result you found?” he asked, unable to stop himself from snorting quietly. “I mean, the Pearl? I guess you’ve done more research on the ring, although still not quite enough.”

“You still caught the bait,” Jungkook reminded him.

“I guess I did,” Jimin said softly, taking a deep breath and working himself up to hear what he knew he needed to. He didn’t give Jungkook a chance before, but now they had to talk. He could no longer run away from it. “It’s been six months.”

“I know,” Jungkook said, squeezing his hand, his hand holding the ring shaking a little. “That’s how long it took to locate this ring. And get the blessings from your brother. He kept saying ‘no’, by the way. I had to resort to begging, if you can believe it.”

Jimin blinked in surprise.

“You talked to Yoongi hyung?”

“Yes, and I’m alive. Shocking, I know. We’ve almost wrestled at some point, but I’ll spare you the details. I’m honestly impressed that he hasn’t said a word about it to you—”

“Jungkook, please.”

It was the nerves that were making Jungkook so chatty, leaving him resort to making jokes rather than explaining everything in a more appropriate and cohesive manner. But Jimin couldn’t stand it. He wanted the truth. Wanted to know what had led Jungkook into thinking that he had any right to propose to him after how they’d left things off between them, not fixing anything for months.

Jungkook apologized quietly, actually taking his hands back and getting up from the floor. He dropped the ring on the desk, running his hand through his hair and nodding to himself.

“I didn’t take you seriously when you asked me that question. I should have, whether you’ve meant it or even if it was nothing more than just a random thought that has crossed your mind. I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry. It wasn’t until you left that it hit me that… The moment to have that conversation again, to say ‘yes’... passed, and I knew that no matter what I said at that point, it wouldn’t have mattered. It wouldn’t have convinced you that it was what I wanted, too. My words wouldn’t have moved you anymore. But my actions would.”

Jimin snorted quietly. “You didn’t even bother to impress me with this job.”

“Why should I impress you? We’ve known each other for decades.”

Jimin only rolled his eyes in response, but Jungkook was right about what he’d said earlier. If he’d suddenly changed his mind, Jimin wouldn’t have believed that it was because of a sudden change of heart he had, but because he wanted to make Jimin happy. Jungkook would always do anything to make him happy, but in this case, it had to be something that they both wanted. Otherwise, one day Jungkook could start resenting him, and Jimin wouldn’t be able to live with that.

“Well, to be honest… I did plan an entirely different heist. It was supposed to be our one last job. The guys were going to come with us, send us off and all. But, uh…” Jungkook was coming clean, his voice growing more and more embarrassed with every word. “Namjoon hyung broke his leg. Taehyung and I had to improvise at the last minute and this was the best we could come up with without the two of us getting caught and ending up in jail.”

Jimin didn’t have a hard time imagining it. Poor Namjoon, though.

“Wait, so this ring is a backup ring?”

Jungkook threw his arms in the air. “God, absolutely. Who do you take me for?”

That brought a smile to Jimin’s face. “It’s still pretty.”

“And so are you. Jimin—” Jungkook placed his hands on his arms, making him realize that he was a bit chilly. It was much warmer in the ballroom. Jungkook noticed that, too, and immediately took off his jacket, wrapping it around his shoulders.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, love,” Jungkook said once they settled, standing as close as Jimin’s dress allowed them to without jumping each other’s bones, Jungkook’s hands being back on his arms. “Yes, it’s been amazing. Traveling the world, stealing from the rich and the bad. The party never stopped for us. But the only reason I loved doing all those things was because you were by my side. And I’ve always known that.

“That’s the thing I didn’t realize. It doesn’t matter what we do as long as we’re together. Whether it’s stealing or traveling or settling down. Whatever it might be, it’s gonna be amazing, because we’re in this together. And I want it. I want everything with you. If you want to retire, then we can retire. If you want to fly to the moon, we’ll do that, too! We can do anything. And if you let me, I’ll make you the happiest man alive.”

Jimin sniffed, feeling the tears threatening to fall and fighting them back the best he could as he didn’t want to ruin his makeup—his makeup that must’ve been already ruined after he and Jungkook had heavily made out before. It was probably why he lost the battle in the end, stretching out his hand palm up and wiggling his fingers demandingly.

“Give me that damn ring and kiss me.”

Jimin had never seen Jungkook move so fast before. By the time he was pushing the ring on his finger, they were already kissing, somehow having turned around with Jimin ending up being pushed up on the desk and having his face devoured.

It wasn’t comfortable at all, not with the dress being in the way, the all too much fabric not even allowing Jimin to wrap his legs around Jungkook’s waist and pull him closer. It was still incredibly arousing and thrilling, kissing so passionately in a place where they shouldn’t even be, but after being separated for so long, it wasn’t nearly enough.

“You regret putting me in that dress now, don’t you?” Jimin asked in between the kisses as he was catching his breath, a smug grin sitting atop his pillowy lips.

Jungkook was just as underappreciating of Jimin’s dress, if the way he was tugging at it was anything to go by, as well as how he was growling in frustration every now and then as he couldn’t slip in between Jimin’s legs and grind down on him.

It was unfortunate, but there was no way around it, and the least Jimin could do was rile Jungkook up so he’d fuck him hard as soon as they made it safely back to the hotel.

But that was not what Jungkook had in mind, and Jimin realized it the second he moved his hands under the jacket, gripping his corset at the seams, and using all his strength, ripping it completely apart. Jimin yelped from the shock of it just as Jungkook let go of it, leaving it in his lap as it was still attached to the bottom of the dress, and immediately attacking Jimin’s chest. Jungkook’s lips on his skin were distracting, but not quite enough.

Jimin gripped Jungkook by his hair and pulled his head back, ignoring for now the moan that had left Jungkook’s lips and sent a bolt of pleasure straight down to his cock.

“What the hell was that?”

Jungkook looked at him from under his lashes, his pupils blown, looking so sinful with his lips parted, slicked with saliva. It made Jimin’s stomach feel all kinds of funny, the tingles on his skin making him breathe heavily.

It was impossible for him to focus on anything else other than Jungkook. The pretty Jungkook who looked fucked out already just by kissing him.

“I know you’ve got pants and boots underneath. You can keep my jacket on when we leave. Now take all this shit off, please. Jimin, please,” Jungkook whined, pulling at the corset.

And who was Jimin to deny him?

They worked together, getting that damn dress off of Jimin, as a result leaving him in nothing but his pants and the boots that Jungkook had mentioned earlier.

“You’ve got lube?” Jimin asked, turning around and leaning against the desk.

“Of course I do.”

“You’re so nasty,” Jimin threw over his shoulder with a cackle, humming appreciatively when Jungkook crowded him from behind, unbuckling his pants for him.

“It’s not my fault you always get so fucking horny after pulling off a job,” Jungkook said, peppering kisses down his spine, the sweet gesture doing nothing to extinguish the flame burning inside him, but rather the opposite. Jimin pressed back with the intention of rubbing his ass against Jungkook’s front, being only mildly surprised to find out that Jungkook’s pants were already unzipped and his cock was freed from the shackles that was his underwear.

“Eager much?” Jimin teased, moaning when Jungkook slapped his ass to remind him to stay still. He knew this game they were playing all too well, and there was no time here for finesse. It was going to be quick and dirty, but it was also why it was so fun.

“A bit of a shame we can’t take our time…”

Jungkook pulled down his pants at the same time, tugging Jimin’s underwear along with it, finally freeing his cock. Jimin’s thoughts turned a bit muddled at that, his hand coming down, fingers taking hold of his length as he stroked himself, flicking his wrist just the way he liked after he gathered the bits of precum and used it to make the slide more smooth.

But Jimin was so attuned to Jungkook, his wants and needs being important to him, that he found his tongue back and replied nonetheless, “Would you rather we stop and go back to the hotel?”

Jimin didn’t even sense Jungkook moving away, neither heard him ripping the packet of lube. He did, however, definitely feel a pair of slick fingers thrust inside him without a warning. That pulled a curse from Jimin’s lips, one after another as Jungkook started moving his fingers, stretching him open and doing so quickly, the slight burn feeling delicious.

“What were you saying?” Jungkook asked a few beats after, pressing himself against the side of Jimin’s body and nipping at his ear, always so cocky, so damn annoying.

Jimin wouldn’t have it any other way.

He didn’t answer, bracing himself on the desk instead, lying his head on his arms and closing his eyes as he let the feeling take over him, allowing himself to admit how badly he missed it. All of it. Jungkook. The intimacy. Even the job, although he could live without the latter.

Meanwhile, he could never imagine his life without Jungkook. Nor his extremely skillful fingers, but Jimin would have to worship them later. He reached behind, catching onto Jungkook’s wrist and stopping him from moving.

“That’s enough. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asked anyway, even though he removed his fingers per Jimin’s request, running his hands up and down his ass and spreading his cheeks apart.

“Yeah—But wait, wait—” Jimin rushed to say as soon as he felt the tip of Jungkook’s cock prodding at his rim, huffing out in relief when Jungkook listened and pulled right back without a moment of hesitation “—go open the curtains first.”

“What?”

“Come on, just do it.”

And again, Jungkook did.

When he slipped his cock inside him, setting up an incredible pace right from the start, Jimin watched the snow falling outside with a smile while drooling all over the desk and holding onto it for his dear life. The power of Jungkook’s thrusts was sending him forward with every snap of his hips, his cock bouncing between his legs and spilling precum everywhere, making just as much mess as the cum spilling out of his ass.

“I love you, by the way. In case I forgot to mention it.”

Jimin raised his head, looking away from the window and giving Jungkook a funny look. 

They were going back to the hotel now, and Jimin was spent. He was tucked against Jungkook’s side, wearing his coat and seeking warmth. He sort of regretted now agreeing to taking a coach instead of a taxi as there was naturally no heating inside. He also felt sorry for the poor coachman. It was freezing outside, but they’d made sure to give him a hefty tip.

Jimin was dreaming of a warm bath, but also couldn’t wait to have Jungkook all to himself in that giant bed waiting for them in their room; or the whole room, really, as they could go for a marathon and make love on every surface possible until they both fell into a loving embrace and passed out from how blissed out they were.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled sleepily, rubbing his cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder and getting more and more comfortable despite the chilling cold.

“You’ll be happy to know, then, that the house you wanted—You know, the one belonging to that really stubborn old lady that refused to sell it to us? Well, it’s ours now. I’m kinda broke now, though. And the job was a bust, but thankfully my future husband is rich.”

That was the kind of stuff that instantly got Jimin wide awake, sitting ramrod straight and looking at Jungkook with stars glistening in his eyes.

“You got it? You really did?”

“I got it. Of course I did. Anything for you.”

But the happiness didn’t last long, and the embarrassment fully took over, making Jimin smile a bit like a fool and instantly reveal to Jungkook that he’d done something stupid.

With a heavy sigh, Jungkook asked, “What?”

“I gotta, uh… I gotta come clean about something…” Jimin cleared his throat, now avoiding Jungkook’s eyes. It wasn’t his proudest moment. “I’m quite broke, too. I was so mad at you that I spent everything. The penthouse is all that’s left.”

Jungkook coughed. “Rich in personality.”

“What.”

“My future husband,” he explained, gazing into Jimin’s eyes. “He has a rich personality.”

Jimin giggled. “So does mine.”

Following that, they drifted in and out of conversation, Jimin dozing off every few minutes and then shaking himself awake.

“How about one last job?”

Jimin cranked one eye open, wordlessly glaring at him. Jungkook brought one of his hands to his chest in a surrender gesture, while the other one remained wrapped around Jimin.

“All right, all right. The ring needs to go then.”

“Or we can just sell the penthouse.”

“Or we can do that, yeah.”

“And the rest of the jewelry we stole tonight, except for the ring. The ring stays,” Jimin said stubbornly, unconsciously tracing the band on his finger. The fit was perfect. Jimin liked how pretty it looked on his hand. “Besides, Yoongi hyung will take care of us. I can always ask him for some money. He won’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“You know…” Jungkook started carefully, trailing his fingers on his arm. “One of those days we should really address the fact that your brother is a boss of a crime syndicate.”

Jimin shrugged.

“He’s harmless.”

“I don’t think that’s what the guy who has been found with chopsticks poking out of his eyeballs would say if we asked him. Oh, no. Wait—” he gasped at first, then deadpanned, “We can’t ask him, Jimin. He’s dead.”

Jimin shrugged again.

“He must’ve deserved it.”

Knowing how exasperated Jungkook had to be with his answer, Jimin could practically hear him rolling his eyes, his reaction almost making him burst out laughing. Thankfully, since he’d kept quiet, Jungkook seemed to give up for now, moving the conversation along.

Yoongi was harmless, though. Everything he did was to help those in need, after all.

“I’m sure you’re right, honey.”

Jimin hummed, but he was quite awake now, and stretched himself a little, removing himself from Jungkook’s side to look at him properly. Jungkook raised his eyebrow, already sensing that he was up to something. Jimin was almost sure that they both were.

“Are you really broke?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

“Are you?”

“I asked first.”

Jungkook wanted to argue, but he wasn’t that childish, and ended up revealing the truth, “I’m taking precautions in case you decide to run away with my money again.”

Jimin tilted his head, staring him down.

“Your money?”

“So you’re not broke, either,” Jungkook made an observation, to what Jimin sputtered.

“Fuck you.”

“In a second. We’re almost at the hotel,” Jungkook grinned.

“God, I hate you,” Jimin groaned, his lovesick smile saying otherwise.