DISTORTED DESIRE | JIKOOK (DISCONTINUED)

5. A RESPONSABILITY

Even though both Jeongguk and Jimin are still in the back alley, the change in temperature is evident. He had left his coat in his car when he ran from the studio. The mere thought of returning to get it back makes him feel incredibly uneasy.

His small fingers sweep over bare arms in a pitiful attempt to regain some warmth. He peers at Jeongguk through disordered strands of blond hair, noticing that he's either careless or that the sudden occupancy of cool air doesn't impact him. And in fact, he seems entirely aloof to the situation.

"Where's your jacket?" he questions callously.

The timbre of Jeongguk's voice makes Jimin feel pathetic while he sits on the dirty concrete in a pile of filth. "I left it in my rental car," he murmurs.

Jeongguk releases a drawn-out sigh, removing his leather jacket. He tosses it onto Jimin's head while the blond is focused elsewhere.

Jimin squeaks, tugging it off of him. He holds the jacket close to himself, glaring at Jeongguk who reveals a tight-lipped, cocky smile. He shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans while raising an eyebrow, appearing puzzled.

"Don't act like I was supposed to catch that," Jimin grumbles, sliding the leather jacket over his arms. Finally, he stands up and wipes his pants down. He stares at the sleeves as they fall over his hands. He's basically swimming in it but he's warm. It smells like what he presumes to be Jeongguk's natural scent.

"Are you smelling it?" Jeongguk jeers.

"N-No!" Jimin exclaims, looking up at the brown-haired man with knit eyebrows, clearly feeling slightly offended by the accusation. "I can't help it when it's right in front of my nose."

"Mhm." Jeongguk grins, sounding unconvinced by Jimin's sad effort to defend his actions.

A brief, chronic moment of quietude settles and all that's left to the ears are the rattling of cars that pass by and an occasional whistle from the wind. Jimin notices a white, folded up piece of paper by his feet, feeling an instant spike in adrenaline. He leans down to pick it up, only for it to be plucked from between his fingers.

He's looking up at Jeongguk through long lashes, fists balled beneath the length of the leather jacket. The brown-haired man is extremely close, holding the paper in his hand. "What is this?" he asks.

"Nothing," Jimin murmurs. "Give it back."

"If it's nothing, then why is your heart beating so quickly?" Jeongguk questions, tilting his head to the side curiously.

Jimin blinks at him in disarray. He reaches for the paper, on the tips of his toes but to no avail. He stands limply, watching as Jeongguk does just as he suspected he would, unfolding the paper leisurely as to prolong his own enjoyment and the blond's suffering.

He's thankful for the looming obscurity of the approaching night. His cheeks heat up the second he sees Jeongguk's reaction to the drawing he had done of him, and yet a cold wave of dread washes over him just the same. Given the abstruseness of tonight's developments, trying to gauge the man's response is basically impossible.

"Did you draw this?" he asks, eyeing it critically.

Jimin shrugs. "It fell out of my pocket. Who else's would it be?" he questions, shoulders sluggish in clear defeat.

Jeongguk hums, folding the piece of paper back up, sticking it in his pocket. "I'm keeping it," he proclaims.

Jimin's eyes jolt in their sockets as he examines Jeongguk's fixed and serious expression. "Why do you want a drawing of yourself?" The inflection of his tone droops as his words become quiet.