When Jimin enters the art building, the sun has long past set. The entire campus is dark around him, a light breeze ruffing the trees and causing him to pull his scarf tighter around his neck. Of course, people are still out and about, but most people have turned in for the night. It's already 10 on a Tuesday, after all.
As Jimin climbs the crooked stairs up to the entrance of the old building, his eyes rake over its familiar, broken features. Some of the windows are cracked, the white paint is peeling off in sheets, and, overall, the building could really use some TLC. (Too bad their university values the arts less than everything else. It's a shame really).
Finally pushing through the heavy front door, Jimin glances around, immediately turning left to take the stairs as he loosens his scarf. Taehyung is always on the 4th floor, working on some project or another, and tonight Jimin had come to drag him home after receiving a text that read 'fuckkkkk jimin I'm so dead rn fam like ughhhhhhh oh my god I need some fuckin hotpockets or somethin park jiminnnnnnn'
"I swear to god if Jeongguk gave him more pot...," he snarls, pushing on the door to the stairwell, but pauses when there's a crashing sound from behind him. After the crash comes a colorful curse of male origin, and instantly Jimin turns back to see what's going on.
Peeking his head around, he eventually spots a male about his height struggling to move an outrageous amount of paint cans and other art supplies into the buildings worn-out elevator.
"Need some help?" Jimin asks politely, trying not laugh when he hears the male growl something along the lines of 'I'd rather suck Namjoon's dick and admit he's a better dancer then have to lug all these fucking paint cans to the 5th floor what the fuck'.
"Uh—," the guy finally says at spotting Jimin in front of him, too lost in his own angry monologue to have noticed the boy approaching. "What?"
Jimin rolls his eyes, smiling friendlily as he reaches down and grabs two of the gallon paint cans. "I'll help you with these."
"Listen they're super fucking heavy so—oh," the male pauses when Jimin effortlessly lifts the two can up. Jimin laughs at his puzzled face, stepping into the elevator that's already loaded with at least another 15 cans.
"I'm stronger than I look."
"Apparent-fucking-ly," the guy says, still eyeing Jimin's body suspiciously as he bends down to grab the final two cans. He lifts them with a huff of effort, frowning disdainfully and face turning a bit red as he hurriedly shuffles into the elevator. Jimin tries not to laugh, biting his lip to keep quiet, but the guy still notices his struggle.
"Don't fucking laugh at me, you midget."
"Hey!" Jimin protests as the guy drops the can's onto the elevator floor, causing the small box to jolt. "We're the same height!"
Pausing, the guy looks him over again, and Jimin doesn't hesitate this time to get a good eyeful of the stranger. He doesn't look much older than Jimin and definitely isn't taller than him. His mint colored hair is a bit odd, but Jimin's own hair is orange at the moment, so he can't really say anything.
Overall, with his baggy black sweater, ripped skinny jeans, and high-top converse...the guy looks good. Jimin will admit that much.
"I'm definitely taller than you," the man finally speaks again, reaching forward to press the 5th floor button on the elevator's panel. Immediately the doors start to squeak closed, and Jimin decides with a mental shrug that he'll just have to walk down a flight to see Taehyung. No big deal. It's better than having to climb up four floors of stairs anyway.
Elevator squeaking into action, Jimin braces himself against the paint cans behind him, looking around the space suspiciously. Above them the elevator is squealing loudly, shaking with effort as they're hefted higher into the building.
