The Done Deal

Chapter 4

Leaning back in his seat, Jimin wiped his wet, swollen lips and took a deep breath. His skin still burned from Min's stubble.

Yeah, they should fuck

............................................................................................................................................................

It was dark by the time they arrived. As they got out of the car, Jimin looked up at the house and said, not without humor, "Actually, now some things about you are starting to make a horrible amount of sense." It was almost laughable to call it a house.

Chae clapped her hands in excitement. "A palace!"

"Don't be stupid," Sarang said, her tone superior. "Kings and princesses live in palaces. Our country doesn't have loyalty."

"Royalty," Min corrected her, locking the car. "If you're going to call someone stupid, make sure you don't make mistakes yourself." his tone was of a teacher, the one Jimin was quite familiar with.

Chae beamed at Min and grabbed his hand. "I like you, Mr. Min!"

Min stared down at the tiny girl with a vaguely puzzled expression on his face, before looking at Jimin.

Suppressing a smile, Jimin said, "Leave Mr. Min alone, Chae. Come on, take my hand."

Chae pouted but let go of Min's hand and took Jimin's. Sarang took his other hand while a few servants came out to take their luggage inside.

"I don't like him," Sarang said as they walked to the house.

"Don't be rude, sweetie," Jimin said, glancing at the man in question, who walked alongside them. "Mr. Min can hear you."

Min's eyes were focused on the house; though the slight smile showed sign of listening to the conversation.

Jimin averted his gaze. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, he had this immaculately dressed, stern-faced man grunting and moving on top of him.

"But I don't like him," Sarang said stubbornly but lowered her voice."Don't like how he looks at you."

"How he looks at me?" Jimin repeated.

"Like Chae looks at a pancake."

Jimin forced a smile. This was a whole new level of awkward. "You just imagined it, pumpkin."

"But—"

"You just imagined it," Jimin repeated, hoping Min hadn't heard Sarang's words.

Min's face was hard and cold, devoid of all color. This was a man who was coming home to his father after fifteen years. He looked about as happy as a man on his way to jail.

A butler—a goddamn butler—opened the door and greeted Min with a quiet, "Master Yoongi."

Jimin led the girls inside. They looked shy and nervous, and Jimin had to admit he wasn't any less nervous than them; he was simply better at disguising it.

His first impression of the hall was of vastness. It was more than a little overwhelming.

"Yoongi!"

Jimin looked up. A tall, dark-haired woman was walking down the stairs, a vaguely relieved smile on her lips. She hugged Min and kissed him on the cheek.

"Yeri," Min murmured. "You look good."

So this was the sister who had convinced him to come.Jimin eyed her curiously. He could certainly see the family resemblance. She seemed a few years older than her brother, perhaps thirty-five.