ᴄʜᴏᴋᴇʀ ☑

15 : A punishment gone too far

To no fault of his own, Jungkook was at Jimin's door to get his punishment, knocking gingerly when he knew he should be running in the opposite direction. The actor opened the door to a low-lashed assistant, who was barely hiding his flushed cheeks and tinted ears. Jungkook felt the water drops from Jimin's head that he rubbed with a towel. "Come on in, Jungkook."

"Your enema kits are downstairs. I'll be off now."

Jimin's body was calm and so were his words when he said, "the bed needs to be cleaned," he couldn't look at Jungkook when he beckoned him inside. "I gave a night off to all workers."

"Of course, you did," Jungkook mumbled warily and scampered towards the bed to find the ketchup bottle inverted on it. He knew that Jimin hated tomatoes in his food, so this was the actor's way to — as he came to understand — punish him.

Without raising his eyes up, Jungkook changed the sheets all the while having it in his mind that they will be dirtied again tonight, and the thought of Jimin with his 'special friend' made him nauseous. Not that he was jealous now. He was rather traumatic and felt pitiful for whoever the poor guy, or guys — counting the number of kits he had brought — might be under the actor for the whole night. 

As his spine straightened after removing creases of the new satin sheets, which wasn't all that difficult, he was bombarded with the next chore. "Set up the TV. I seem to have changed the language and I can't figure it out now." Jimin's voice was smooth with a grumpy undertone in it. His eyes were on Jungkook, darted at him to drink in his nervousness, or loathe.

Jungkook, on the other hand, without returning any gaze, went straight to the TV settings. Jimin spoke more languages than him, especially French, at which the TV's settings were. The assistant forsook the fact that Jimin was here to make his life harder and graciously thanked Mr. Lefevre for always having him pushed to study the French language. Albeit not the expert, he managed to put the language settings back to English and lowered the TV volume.

On the screen, he could see Jimin from five years ago in his pink hair, playing a happy-go-lucky and an illusive romantic. How you make a fool of everyone, Jimin! "Would this be all?"

Jimin now stalked closer to Jungkook with speed and the assistant's mouth left a few hitches of breath, which surprisingly halted the domineering and the crazy man's steps. "My undergarments for tomorrow. I CAN'T FUCKING FIND THEM ANYWHERE!"

With sudden screaming, Jungkook looked up with close to hatred in his eyes, sniffling while wearing expressions of disgust. "I'll check them, Jimin. But I am really feeling sick. Can I go home now, please?"

Jimin pointed his finger at a bag that was sitting on the nightstand. "Take that with you and I need you in that outfit tomorrow."

Jungkook was too tired to come up with any question or to argue. Most importantly, he didn't want to look at Jimin's face for one more moment, so he nodded mutely before scurrying to the nightstand and getting out of the actor's bedroom with whatever was in the bag.

What he heard in the next moment was the sound of a door banging, hard, which would've startled him, but it didn't today, because perhaps he was expecting it. As he dragged his feet downstairs, he could feel himself wither. The actor he always looked up to and fancied was willing to rend his self-respect to traces for so long, but he always made excuses on Jimin's behalf for his behavior. A single wrong moment was enough to wipe out hundreds of good memories.

He suddenly recollected the conversation he had with Jimin on the couch right in front of him in the living room. "I urge you to think again, Jungkook. There's no harm in learning. It's not like I am kicking you out of the job. I am paying you to basically learn a new skill while you are on job. No boss should do that." Jimin had said.