An Encounter in their high school locker room changed Jimin's view, it leaves him unsettled. He is infected by troubling thoughts and dreams. Who will provide him peace now?
The clothes fit him beautifully, and I imagine what his body must look like underneath. It's the body I would have killed for, back when I was playing soccer, lean and muscular, like a panther. He sits on the stool and starts speaking to me while typing on the keyboard.
"Jimin, my name is Dr. Ahn and I am an internal medicine resident here at the university hospital. I'm here to give you a general evaluation, but we are also calling one of the psychiatric interns to come over here to give you a mental status evaluation," he says. I look at him but I don't reply.
"Do you understand what that means?" he asks, training his eyes on me. There's a faint shadow on his cheeks and jaw attesting to his ability to grow a beard like mine -- dark and thick -- but also his ability to keep it in check, and maintain this exquisite level of grooming. He is demonstrably together.
I move my hand through my unruly beard, trying in vain to smooth it into a semblance of order. "It means you think I'm nuts," I say. He smiles. His teeth are brilliant, white, and perfect.
He says, "No, Jimin, nobody thinks you're nuts. But we are concerned that you might be having a psychiatric episode and we want to help you feel better." Fuck.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
How am I going to get out of this? "How long is this going to take?" I ask. I look at the clock on the wall -- it's a quarter to nine. "I have class in 15 minutes."
He frowns at me. "It might take a while, to be honest," he says. "But don't worry about your classes, Amir.
This is more important. We can always reach out to your professors to let them know..." "No," I say, quickly, cutting him off. "Please don't tell my professors about this.
I'm not crazy. I'm just... exhausted... stressed, and like... not sleeping enough." "Amir, again, nobody thinks you're crazy.
We want to help you. How long have you been feeling this... exhaustion?" he asks, seamlessly. The guy is slick. He wheels the stool away from the computer and toward me, stopping a few feet before me.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He looks at me, expectantly. My heart starts to beat faster. "Um..." I try to think back, but all I encounter is a wall of fog.
"I'm not sure, maybe a week or so?" "Hmm, and around the time that this started, did you experience anything abnormal, like a fall, or a blow to the head? Any sort of accident?" I think about seeing Hoseok in the locker room that day, and the instant sexual reaction I had to him. "No, nothing like that," I say. "How about partying, Jimin? Have you been drinking more than usual or using drugs?" I swallow, nervously.
"No, not really," I say. "I guess I drank at a party..." When was that, even? I think about the party and Narae, and then about Namjoon. Namjoon's hand gripped my cock. "... like, a few days ago, but not, like... more than..." He interrupts me.
"Look, I'm not here to bust you, Jimin, OK? Don't worry. I'm just trying to get more information," he says, smiling. His smile is disarming.
He's incredibly... handsome. The word pops into my head. It occurs to me that this is the kind of son my parents would kill for.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
