Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Alright, Tiny.” Jungkook hefts Hyesoo onto a chair, holding onto her to keep her steady. “Make a wish. But don’t let any snitches know what it is.”

Hyesoo grins as Jungkook holds a finger up to his mouth, and then she tucks her hair behind her ears and leans over her birthday cake. She plants her hands firmly on the table as Jungkook holds her hair back for her. Her face scrunches in determination, focused on her wish, and then she closes her eyes and blows out the candles.

There are cheers and party poppers and confetti as soon as she straightens back up and Jungkook helps her back down so she can sit. She smiles wildly, hands together as she rubs them in anticipation of her cake.

Jungkook feels like melting as he watches her. She’s adorable, absolutely precious, and still small even if she can’t really be considered ‘Tiny’ anymore. Jungkook refuses to stop calling her that just yet. He’s not ready to watch her grow up. It feels like only yesterday that he finally got to have her in his life, and now here she is, turning eight years old.

“Mm, this is so good,” Jimin practically moans as he takes a bite of cake, everyone enjoying their own as Hyesoo digs in as well. She kicks her feet as she eats, surrounded by her friends who eat just as eagerly. “Taste.”

Jungkook opens his mouth as Jimin holds up a rather large chunk of chocolate cake. He leans forward and lets Jimin stuff the cake into his mouth, chewing as Jimin wipes crumbs away from the corners of his lips. “‘S good.”

Jimin nods. “I know. I made a good choice,” he says before he leans in to steal a kiss.

He wiggles as he takes another bite of cake, humming again like he’s in Heaven just from eating it. Jungkook can’t resist watching him, enjoying the view of Jimin as he glows. Even around a crowd of people he barely knows—and some who are definitely judging him and Jungkook—his naturally happy, charming aura never fades. Unlike Jungkook, he hasn’t faltered once under the gaze of Yeojeong’s parents.

The last thing he wanted was to be faced with Hojoon and Minji during Hyesoo’s birthday. Neither of them are particularly fond of him. Even to this day, they expect the worst from him. Doesn’t matter than he’s kept a relatively stable, cozy life for himself and Hyesoo for nearly three years now. They’ll always see him as the little shit he was when he first met Yeojeong.

He stopped caring awhile ago, honestly. There’s no point in trying to gain their approval. Especially the Shin side of the family. Hojoon’s family is rigid, cutthroat, and downright dangerous, and just their name carries power. Any stain on that name is unforgivable.

Jungkook tainted their name in a million and one ways with his recklessness in the past, but he can’t fix that now, and they seem to have no interest in letting it go. They have all simply reached a silent agreement to ignore each other.

Still, he hates the way they look at Jimin. They can judge Jungkook all they want. They can be hostile. They can hate him. But the second they turn their critical gazes on Jimin, it makes him bristle.

“Feeling okay?” Yeojeong asks as she leans on the wall beside Jungkook, a little cup of ice cream in her hands. “You look like someone shoved a stick up your ass, you’re so tense.”

Jungkook shrugs, arms crossed as he glances around the house. Her family always did have a taste for the finer things in life. The decor in this place probably costs more than Jungkook’s entire net worth. Sleek, modern, monochromatic. Cold. It feels clinical.

Very fitting for a family like the Shins.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook says, but Yeojeong begins to grin as she notices his eyes following Jimin as he wanders closer and closer to Minji.

“He’ll survive just fine on his own,” Yeojeong reassures him. “If anyone can hold their own against my parents, it’s Jimin.”

She has a point. It still troubles Jungkook how little they respect Jimin. They treat him like he has no right to even be here. Like he’s just some kind of side piece for Jungkook, a pretty decoration for his arm, rather than his partner of three years now. They don’t consider Jimin part of the family the way Yeojeong does.

Not even after Hyesoo had given Jungkook and Jimin matching “World’s Best Dad” mugs for Christmas. If anything, that made them even more antagonistic toward Jimin, as if he’s encroaching on the family rather than being invited into it, embraced by it.

Jimin is well aware of how they feel about him, but he still approaches Minji with a smile, hand running through his hair. He’s absolutely stunning, as always, dressed head to toe in white, gold jewelry adorning his ears and fingers. Tucked beneath his shirt is his necklace.

Jungkook can’t help but smile every time he’s reminded that it’s there, that he never goes anywhere without wearing his little gift.

“Seriously, though, how are you doing?” Yeojeong asks, her voice quieter now, careful not to be overheard by any of the party guests. “Being here, I mean? It doesn’t bother you.”

“Nah,” Jungkook says, “I’m used to their attitude by now, and Hyesoo loves her grandparents. I’m not gonna keep her away from them just because I don’t like them. Besides,” he looks over at Yeojeong, “they’re just annoying. It’s him that I wouldn’t want to see.”

Yeojeong had put her foot down about inviting Hosung so Jungkook wouldn’t have to face his former manager. Thankfully, because Jungkook doubts he’ll want to see Jungkook or Jimin after he and Aaron Yun were investigated for the potential illicit activities in boxing. Sadly, the investigation fell flat—too much power and influence for it be fair at all—but he’s sure Hosung suspects who spilled the beans on them. Jungkook isn’t willing to put Jimin at risk by letting someone like Hosung around him now.

Yeojeong’s parents had demanded an explanation, but she had simply said it wasn’t their business, but they really shouldn’t need to ask why a man who managed Aaron Yun shouldn’t be in the same room as Jungkook.

Words cannot explain how grateful Jungkook had been when she told him. He has never appreciated someone so much before. If there is anything that can send Jungkook right back to that headspace he had been in two years ago, it’s anything related to Aaron Yun.

He hates that it still has such a hold on him, but that’s trauma, he supposes. First it was Chiwon and his own guilt, and then it was Aaron Yun, haunting him and his family. He doesn’t miss those days at all. There was a lot of good back then—meeting Jimin, finally getting to know Hyesoo—but the rest of it? He wouldn’t mind burning those memories away for good.

Sometimes, when the half-silence in his left ear really stands out to him, it takes him back into the past all over again, back to the ring. Thankfully, he’s gotten pretty good at bringing himself back to the present. And if he can’t, Jimin does.

Just like now, as Jimin glances across the room and catches his eye, it brings him back. All thoughts other than Jimin slip from his mind as he brushes back blonde locks and smiles at Jungkook.

He truly was made for Jungkook in every possible way.

Jimin turns his attention back to his conversation. It’s so satisfying to watch the way Minji forces herself to smile at first, knowing that she has to be polite or Yeojeong will raise hell. Even better is when she actually laughs—a genuine laugh—and then immediately covers her mouth to hide it. That seems to be all Jimin wanted, though, as he excuses himself and makes his way back to Jungkook.

“What do you think?” Jimin asks as he stops beside Jungkook, arms wrapping around his waist from the side, chin on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Should we head home soon? Let Yeojeong have a little time with Hyesoo alone before she brings her to our place tomorrow?”

“Probably should,” Jungkook says as he slips his arm around Jimin’s shoulders and leans in to kiss the tip of his nose. His brow arches and he smirks, and Jimin immediately rolls his eyes, knowing what’s coming. “Gives us a little alone time too.”

“It does,” Jimin says, swaying slightly as he holds Jungkook closer. He keeps his voice quiet as he talks. Not that it’s easy to be overheard anyway in a house full of kids on sugar highs. “But don’t do that thing you did last time, got it?”

Jungkook grimaces at him. “What do you mean? You loved that. Don’t say you didn’t. You basically blacked out.”

“Yeah, but I could barely walk at the studio the next day,” Jimin grumbles as he reaches up to pinch Jungkook’s chest. “I have classes to teach tomorrow.”

Wrinkling his nose, Jungkook pushes off the wall and pulls Jimin with him. “Fine, have it your way.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and glances back at Jimin as he walks away. “Don’t complain to me when you regret it, though.”

He can hear Jimin mumble something as he follows him. He’s certain he catches the word “brat”, and he’s also certain that Jimin intended for him to hear it, knowing that Jungkook will use it against him later tonight.

“Go say bye to Hyesoo,” Jimin says with a kiss to Jungkook’s cheek and a ruffle of his hair. Strands of black fall into Jungkook’s eyes and he shakes them back with a smile at Jimin. He winks at Jungkook as he backs away, then spins on his heel and heads over to say his goodbyes to some of the parents.

Most of them are moms from the studio, here to bring Hyesoo’s dance friends to her party. Jungkook wonders how many of them understand that they’re standing in the home of a family with a long history of crime connections or if they even care. The sheer wealth and extravagance of the place makes most people go temporarily dumb.

Even Jungkook was starstruck and blinded by it when he first met Yeojeong. He had never set foot inside a house so big or eaten a meal cooked by an award-winning chef or been close enough to touch a Lamborghini until then. Having grown up in the system with a single duffel bag of possessions to his name, it had been easy for them to sweep him off his feet.

He must have been such an easy target for them to mold into what they wanted. It was obvious the Shins never even particularly liked him, but he was promising.

Jungkook was a cash cow in the ring.

That was all he ever was to them.

It’s hard not to feel bitter about that, especially when he still has to see them in order to be in Hyesoo’s life. If it were up to him, he would never come close enough to even see this house again. Thankfully, years of therapy have allowed him to compartmentalize. He can separate his anger toward them from his love for Hyesoo and allow the right one to take priority.

Once upon a time, anger would have been the only option for him.

Some of Hyesoo’s friends smile at him as he passes them, crossing the room to where a bunch of kids surround the massive TV and play Nintendo Switch Sports.

“Hey, kiddo,” Jungkook says as he approaches Hyesoo. She turns quickly, hair flying around her, then glances forward again to make sure her turn to bowl isn’t coming up too soon. Once she’s certain she has time, she runs to meet Jungkook halfway. “Jimin and I have to head out now, okay?”

“Okay,” she says as Jungkook squats down and smiles at her, his hands on her shoulders. She’s grown so much. He wishes he could freeze time right here and keep her from getting any taller, from losing any more of her chubby baby cheeks. He simultaneously feels proud of how far she’s come and sad that it seems to be going by so fast. He swears time has sped up since she came into his life. “I’m coming over tomorrow, right?”

“You sure are,” Jungkook says, “and Jimin says we’re ordering pizza to celebrate.”

Hyesoo pumps her fist in victory with a hushed “yes!” as she does. When she turns her grin on Jungkook again, he can’t help but gently bop the tip of her nose.

“You be good for your mom,” he says, and then quietly adds, “and kick everyone’s ass at bowling.”

She claps her hands over her mouth as she giggles, shooting a glance over at her grandparents to make sure they didn’t hear. He doubts Yeojeong would give a damn, but they would be horrified. It’s not like they really care what she learns from him, it’s simply that it’s him she’s learning it from.

“Oh, wait.” Hyesoo pulls a hairband off her wrist and holds it out to him. “Can you tie my hair for me real quick?”

“Sure thing. Ponytail or bun?” Jungkook asks as she turns. He brushes through her hair with his fingers as he waits for her answer.

“Bun.”

“Done,” Jungkook says as he pulls her hair back and swiftly ties it up into a messy bun at the back of her head. It’s nothing fancy, nothing like he or Jimin would do for her for school, but it’ll keep it out of her face for her game. “There you go.”

She turns and immediately throws her arms around him. “Thanks, Dad.” When she leans back, she cups his face and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for the presents too.”

Her eyes drift to Jimin as he gathers their things, then she glances back at the TV.

“Can you wait until I finish my turn before you go?”

Jungkook nods as he ruffles her hair. “Of course. Go ahead. I’ll have Jimin wait so you can say bye to him too.”

She nods before he sends her back to her friends and stands up. He stretches his legs and meets Jimin near the door, giving him a kiss before Hyesoo hurries to join them. She gives them each a hug, saying her goodbyes and thank yous. She gives Jimin a kiss on the cheek as well, and then rushes back to her friends.

Across the room, Yeojeong gives Jungkook a small smile and a wave before she turns her attention back to the dance mom she’s talking to.

Lately, there’s been something about her that Jungkook can’t quite put his finger on, but she seems quieter, more subdued. It’s tempting to ask her, to reach out and see if she’s willing to open up, but the answer is usually no. She doesn’t like to let her walls down. But God knows she’s done more than she should for him, so the least he can do is try.

“I’ll be right out,” Jungkook says to Jimin, hand on his waist as he kisses him. “Wait for me in the car?”

“Sure,” Jimin says as he returns the kiss, then takes the keys from Jungkook and heads out.

Jungkook turns on his heel and heads for where Yeojeong sits alone now, the other mom having run off to help her child who spilled ice cream on herself. He drops into the seat beside her and kicks the leg of her chair, jarring it slightly so she has to face him.

“Excuse me?” she says with a breathy laugh, setting her phone down. She raises an amused, almost offended, brow as Jungkook leans forward, elbows propped on his legs. “Can I help you?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks. No more beating around the bush. He’s watched himself wallow enough to recognize the signs.

Yeojeong scoffs, the smile on her face awkward and strained as she looks at her phone again. “Nothing. I’m fine. You shouldn’t keep Jimin waiting.”

“Jeong.”

She purses her lips, head shaking in annoyance at that old nickname. Slowly, she turns to face him, leaning sideways on the table as she laces her fingers. “What?”

“What,” Jungkook says again, “is wrong?”

“Nothing—”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says at the same time. “You said that already and I didn’t believe you. So, what is it?”

Yeojeong takes a deep breath, mouth twisted in irritation as she looks down at her phone, then at him. She shrugs. “Just getting used to the new place. It’s weird.”

It takes a moment for Jungkook to piece that together. This year, her main goal has been to move away from her parents’ property, no longer needing their help to raise Hyesoo. He had never asked or expected her to, but she had gotten sick of their disrespect toward Jungkook, and so she’s chosen to move out so he no longer has to come around here just to get Hyesoo.

It was unexpected, but Jungkook can’t express his appreciation enough. Still, he hadn’t expected it to ever be a problem for her. Before he can ask more, she continues.

“It’s quiet. Especially when Soo is with you guys.” Yeojeong glances at him, almost self-conscious under his gaze, and she shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess it’s been a little lonely.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak, wishing for any kind of answer to come to him. He’s lost for words, though. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him to see Yeojeong suddenly so vulnerable. She’s always seemed invincible to things like this. Maybe that’s how she wants to appear, and maybe Jungkook fell for the facade, but he struggles to reconcile the powerful, stoic demeanor of Yeojeong with the woman in front of him.

“It’s fine,” Yeojeong says as she reaches out him to squeeze his arm. “I’ll be okay. It’s just going to take some time getting used to it. I still have Hyesoo for the night and then… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll call up some friends and see if they wanna spend some time together.”

Jungkook nods as he takes her hand in both of his. “You should,” he says. “And, hey, if this gets any worse— If you’re struggling, Jeong, you can reach out to me. Or Jimin. We care about you. We want you to be okay too. You’ve been so supportive of us, it’s the least we can do.”

“I will,” she says, but it feels like a flimsy promise made to make him give up and walk away.

She wins for now. This isn’t the time or place to talk about this, so Jungkook squeezes her hand and stands up. He ignores the stares from her parents as he heads for the door, giving Hyesoo one last wave and a thumbs up when she points at her score on the screen.

In the car, Jimin waits for him, scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat. His hand immediately comes to the rest on the middle console once the car begins to roll out of the driveway. Jungkook keeps one hand on the wheel and laces the other with Jimin’s, shooting him a smile when he does.

Jimin squeezes his hand, head falling back on the seat as he admires Jungkook. Jungkook lifts their hands as he turns onto the road at the end of the driveway, kissing Jimin’s knuckles, and then he lets their hands fall back down between them.

Jimin’s eyes, just like his smile, linger on Jungkook the whole drive.

The cool, early morning air of a spring day always feels so pleasant on Jungkook’s face as he and Jimin head to the studio to open the place up. Jungkook likes the slight chill of a breeze, wearing shorts and a t-shirt as Jimin keeps a light jacket zipped all the way up to his chin.

Jimin readjusts his bag on his shoulder, lip curled at the weight of it as he reaches for his keys. Without a word, Jungkook taps the back of his arm and lets Jimin slide the bag off of it and into Jungkook’s hand.

“Thanks, babe,” Jimin says as he unlocks the studio, holding the door open to let Jungkook in first. He darts in to kiss his cheek, the scent of his perfume wafting over Jungkook—crisp, fruity, sugary, hints of candied apple and vanilla.

He knows that’s Jungkook’s favorite on him. Eau So Sexy, if he recalls the name correctly.

As soon as the door falls shut again and Jimin starts across the lobby, Jungkook throws Jimin’s bag onto his shoulder and sidles up behind the other man. He wraps his arms around Jimin’s middle, face buried in the crook of his neck as he breathes in deep.

“Mm, you smell so fucking good,” he growls between kisses along Jimin’s neck.

“I know,” Jimin says as his fingers trail down Jungkook’s arms, all the way to lace their hands together. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against Jungkook’s lips and traveling through him to settle low in his stomach. “Hands to yourself, big boy, we’re in public.”

Jungkook pulls back, keeping Jimin trapped against his body as he glances around. “I don’t see anyone else here,” he says as Jimin grins back at him. He darts forward, capturing Jimin’s lips, hand sliding down his stomach. For a second, Jimin seems ready to give in, leaning into Jungkook’s arms, mouth falling open for his tongue to explore.

“Ah-ah, no, no, no,” Jimin suddenly says as he squirms away, lip between his teeth. He backs up and points a finger at Jungkook. “Down, boy. You know the others could show up any second now.”

Jungkook shrugs one shoulder and lets the bag fall to the floor. He presses forward as Jimin backs away until he’s trapped against the front desk. “Give ‘em a good show,” he murmurs as he kisses a giggling Jimin again, hands slipping beneath his shirt.

“You’re an animal. Was last night not enough for you?” Jimin asks between kisses, leaning to bend himself backward on the counter, Jungkook’s lips at his throat now as he pulls down the zipper of his jacket. Jimin grips the sides of Jungkook’s shirt and holds on.

“We’ve always known that,” Jungkook says as he kisses his way up to Jimin’s earrings, teeth tugging lightly at them. They clink together as he lets them go and leans back to grin at Jimin. “Kind of your fault this time, though.”

Jimin moves his head in a sassy bob, lips pouted as he smiles. “You love me for it.”

“Debatable right now.”

“Oh, you’re that worked up?” Jimin arches his brow, then curls his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Good. That means you’ll be rougher than normal when we get home tonight.”

Jungkook’s smile drops and he huffs out a sigh of disappointment. “Hyesoo is coming over tonight,” he says as he braces his hands on the counter on either side of Jimin.

“Fuck,” Jimin says as his head drops back to look at the ceiling. He takes a deep breath as Jungkook kisses down his throat, all the way to the necklace hidden beneath his shirt as he peers up at Jimin through his lashes. “Well, maybe we can take a lunch break at the same time today.”

Jungkook laughs before planting another kiss to the corner of Jimin’s mouth. “And you say I’m the animal?”

Jimin sticks his tongue out and rolls his eyes, but his smile comes back as his eyes scan Jungkook’s face. He looks beautiful today—he always does, but these days Jimin is glowing. Maybe it’s just because Jungkook has time to fully appreciate him now. Life has slowed down enough for him to really embrace what he has.

Every time he looks at Jimin, he has to pause and wonder for a moment how he’s lucky enough to have someone like him in his life.

“Okay, I’m gonna head over to the gym,” Jungkook says as he cups Jimin’s face and plants a kiss to the apple of each of his cheeks. “Have fun with your classes.”

“Mhm, have fun punching people,” Jimin says as Jungkook kisses him again, then again, peppering his whole face with kisses. He keeps going until Jimin laughs, and then he catches his lips and presses forward. Jimin’s hand twists into the back of Jungkook’s shirt, a happy sigh escaping him when Jungkook lingers on the corner of his lips.

“I will,” Jungkook says, thumb tracing the curve of Jimin’s nose, all the way to bounce his bottom lip. “Love you.”

Jimin runs his tongue along his lips and pops them together. “Love you too. Now get over there and open up the gym so your early morning boys won’t get pissed that they can’t get swole.”

Jungkook laughs and, with one last peck on Jimin’s lips, heads for the back halls just as the front door opens and instructors begin to show up for the morning classes. He punches in the code for the door that connects the studio and his gym and slips inside, flicking on the lights as he goes.

About two years ago, Jimin had surprised Jungkook with a Christmas gift he never would have expected from anyone. The building next door to the studio had become vacant and Jimin quickly swooped in to claim it for himself, giving the space over to Jungkook to start his own boxing gym.

Instead of starting a whole new franchise, since the two businesses are connected anyway—and because boxing and ballet are so deeply intertwined for Jungkook now—they had agreed to merely expand and call it the 8 Count Studio & Gym, designing a brand new sign for it and everything. It’s been fully open and operational for just over a year now.

Jungkook never thought he could actually be a business owner. He thought maybe he would help out part time at the studio or Lights Out just to give himself something to do in his retirement, and the rest of his time would be dedicated to raising Hyesoo. However, he’s glad he ended up here and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He doesn’t like to sit still for long. He would go crazy without this place, he thinks.

Besides, no matter what kind of trauma comes with boxing for him, he still loves it. It’s a part of him, as much as Jimin’s dancing is a part of him. Jungkook has learned to separate the trauma from the actual sport by now. The sport is what he loves, the trauma was merely a thing that happened while in the ring. The two are not the same.

Now he gets to teach people how to defend themselves. It’s healing, honestly, to turn boxing into something that he can use to help others.

Jungkook unlocks the front door after dropping his bag off behind the desk. He only gets a few minutes to himself with the music playing over the speakers before his regulars start showing up, as well as Ryujin.

As soon as he had opened the gym, she had jumped at the opportunity to become a boxing instructor and, naturally, he had hired her without much thought. He knows Namjoon will be in later today, so for now it’s just the two of them and Hakyun, a kid Jungkook had hired to work the front desk and who Jungkook had only found out later on has been a longtime fan of him.

Luckily, the kid is by far the most sane boxing fan Jungkook has ever met.

“How’s it going?” Ryujin asks as she spins her keys around her finger, then drops them on the front desk and leans on it. Her chin rests on her hand, fingers tapping her cheek.

“Same as always,” says Jungkook.

“You look tired.”

Jungkook shrugs as Hakyun passes him to check the workout equipment and make sure everything had been re-racked and properly cleaned the night before. Not that there’s any doubt, considering Jungkook has been careful about who he hires and knows they all work hard. Still, it gives Hakyun something to do before the busiest hours of the day.

“Hyesoo’s birthday party was yesterday,” Jungkook says. “You know how I am with social events. They wear me out.”

Ryujin’s mouth quirks into a half smile and she nods slowly, then points at something on Jungkook’s collarbone. “Yeah, I’m sure it was the party that wore you out last night.”

Jungkook glances down and finds a dark blemish on his skin, peeking out just barely from behind his shirt. He readjusts it and covers the mark as Ryujin laughs. Jimin had gotten a bit toothy last night, deciding he wanted to rile Jungkook up again by acting like a brat.

The mark on Jungkook is nothing compared to how Jimin’s ass looks right now, though.

Ryujin titters as she darts away to meet her first student of the day, leaving Jungkook to head to the bathroom and look for any other marks he missed. Luckily, if there’s anything too easily spotted, he can head to Jimin’s office and use the concealer he always keeps on him.

God knows he needs it more than Jungkook most days.

“Fists up. Keep them up.” Jungkook pushes the strike pad back when Chunghee punches again. He uses the boy’s own glove to smack him in the face, and Chunghee groans as he stumbles back. “You keep dropping your guard. If you did that in a real fight, you’d get turned into a bobblehead. Guard up, always.”

“Alright,” Chunghee says with a sigh as he steps up again, this time holding his fists up higher. “Okay, let’s go again.”

Jungkook nods and lifts the strike pads. “You’re doing well, you know? Just a few things you’ve gotta get in a better habit of. Come on, same drill.”

With a deep breath, Chunghee starts over, this time doing as Jungkook said and guarding his face. They keep the drill going until Jungkook calls for a water break. As he does, he notices a small commotion across the room.

Ryujin stands at the front desk, arms crossed as she argues with a young man. It doesn’t seem too heated yet, but he catches a “I want to speak with Jeon Jungkook, though” from the kid before Chunghee returns and pulls his gloves on again.

They only have about 15 minutes left in their lesson and then Jungkook can sort out whatever is going on at the desk. Ryujin seems to handle it as she gestures for the young man to take a seat.

There’s something familiar about him—the scowl on his face, the piercing, dark eyes, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. Jungkook can’t quite place it, especially with the split lip and black eye decorating his face.

For now, Jungkook turns his attention back to Chunghee, but he can feel the other kid’s eyes on him the whole time. It’s a bit unnerving how closely he watches them. As Jungkook turns with Chunghee in slow circles, bossing him around when his footwork fails, he finds himself looking directly at the newcomer.

Whoever he is, his face twists in concentration, like he’s studying Jungkook as he leans forward in his seat. There’s something about his eyes that just sets Jungkook on edge. He doesn’t know what it is.

“You did good today,” Jungkook says to Chunghee as the boy packs up his things. “I’ll see you next week. And, hey, don’t skimp on jumping rope. I hate it too, but it works miracles on your legs.”

Chunghee heads out into the evening sun with a smile and a wave, drenched in sweat as the glass door falls shut behind him. Jungkook can still feel himself being stared at as he gathers his strike pads and water bottle, tucking them into the crook of his arm as he runs his hand through his hair.

The new guy from before watches him as Jungkook stops to refill his water bottle. Jungkook shoots him a glance, then raises a brow at him. It’s obvious what this kid is here for, so Jungkook isn’t going to sit here and wait for him to build up the courage to talk to him. He has a half an hour before closing and he’s not about to stay late for some weirdo staring at him.

As he heads for the boxing ring in the center of the gym, Jungkook can see the kid jump from his chair and follow him, wavy blonde hair falling into his eyes before he pushes it back. He’s a little shorter than Jungkook, definitely much younger. Can’t be older than 20.

The gym has mostly cleared out by now. Ryujin has gone home, but Namjoon works on the other side of the gym with a new student. He casts them a few curious glances as the kid comes to a stop beside the ring with Jungkook, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Jungkook asks as he juts his hip out and leans on the ring with it. He fidgets with his gloves as he waits for this kid to speak. He seems frozen in place, though, and Jungkook nearly laughs. “Okay, let’s start with your name. Can you at least tell me that?”

“Christopher— Uh, just Chris,” the kid says, and something begins to nag at the back of Jungkook’s mind. It’s not a typical name to hear around here. “And, yeah, I wanted to talk to you. I’m looking for a trainer.”

“Well, you were at the front desk. All our classes and instructors are listed there—”

“No, not— Sorry.” Chris takes a deep breath. “Not like that. I don’t want some class with a bunch of other people or casual lessons. I’m looking for real training. From a professional with experience. I’m trying to go pro.”

Jungkook sucks in a deep breath and holds it, lips pursed. “You might be in the wrong place. Lights Out might fit your needs a little better. No one here has what you’re looking for,” he says as he turns away. Before he can make it far, Chris sputters.

“You do,” he says, and Jungkook freezes, his stomach churning. “You’re one of the best. You— I mean, you’re training people, right? Why can’t you train me?”

It takes a moment for Jungkook to settle his mind, to quell the anxiety that begins to bubble up inside him. His head spins at the thought of ever going anywhere near a ring like that again. It’s not the same as here. The gym is safe. This ring is safe.

No one in this building is a threat.

No one in this building beat him until he almost went deaf, until his left ear became malformed and permanently damaged.

But out there? Back in the real world? In professional fighting? He can’t touch that again. And he can’t train someone and encourage them to put themselves in the same kind of danger.

Finally, he turns around to face the kid again and that thing dances at the back of his mind again. His face is so familiar, but Jungkook just can’t place it.

He glances over the kid from head to toe, lingering on the black eye for a moment before he scoffs. If just saying no won’t do it, he’ll make the kid feel too ashamed to ask again.

“You do look like you need training,” he says, a hint of guilt washing over him when he sees Chris’ face redden. He hates it. He remembers being treated like that when he was younger. Still, his only answer is no, and he will make sure this kid understands that, no matter what. “I’m not training anyone that way, though. Not for a career, at least.”

“Please. My current trainer is— I don’t feel like I’m learning to fight the way I want to,” Chris says. “I don’t wanna fight dirty. I wanna win because I actually earned it.”

“Who’s your trainer?” Jungkook asks. He already has a list in his head, people he can assume would be that kind of trainer—the guys who are willing to do anything for a win. Pathetic. Jungkook never liked them, even when he was young and careless.

Chris looks like he’s choking on his tongue as he tries to speak. “My uncle.”

“Who’s your uncle?” Jungkook asks with a sigh. He typically wouldn’t be so impatient, but he has things to do and he’s already settled on his answer. He needs to close up the gym, go home, curl up on the couch with Jimin, and this kid needs to move on. He’s not in the mood for delays today.

But Chris just stares back at Jungkook, hesitant for some reason. Jungkook feels a strange swooping sensation in his gut, a voice nagging at the back of his mind that he already knows the answer, and that he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Aaron— Aaron Yun,” Chris says, his voice cracking nervously over the name.

Jungkook feels a sick twist in his gut, setting his gloves on the edge of the ring as he turns to the kid. For a moment, he feels the walls closing in on him, his ears beginning to ring, so he counts his breaths and taps his heel, calming himself before he tries to respond. He leans back and clears his throat. “You really think it’s smart for you to come to me of all people, then?”

“Kind of,” says Chris, his hands wringing in the front pocket of his hoodie. It reminds Jungkook so much of his younger self, he almost feels outside of his own body right now, like he’s watching their conversation from the corner of the room. “He talks about you a lot.”

That pulls a laugh from Jungkook. He can’t help himself as he shakes his head. “I’m sure he has great things to say about me.”

“Not at all,” Chris says with a half smile, still nervous, his voice still shaky. “That’s why I wanted to come to you. The way he talks about you, how you fight, it’s, um… It’s how I realized I’d rather learn from someone like you than him. If he thinks you’re doing something wrong, then I assume you’re right.”

“Well,” Jungkook says as he crosses his arms. “I’m almost tempted to tell you not to fight just so you don’t scramble those brains you’ve got.”

Chris falls silent, foot tapping anxiously. He doesn’t budge as he stares at Jungkook, eyes wide and hopeful—at least, the eye that isn’t blackened and swollen. Jungkook runs his tongue along the back of his teeth, fidgeting with his nails before he decides to ask what he knows he’s going to regret.

His arms fold around himself again—protective, guarding himself from memories he can’t really remember, fuzzy images at the back of his mind—and he looks at Chris.

“How did you get that black eye?”

“Training,” Chris answers too quickly, eyes darting away as he answers. He takes a moment before he dares to meet Jungkook’s gaze again. Even then, he barely can, head ducked slightly. Timid.

Jungkook remembers answering the same way when he was a kid, lying in his group homes about why he had black eyes and bloodied lips or even broken bones. It was better to lie and suffer through the attacks than to face the consequences of snitching.

“How did you actually get it?”

Chris gulps, hands deep in his pockets as he stares at the floor. “My uncle,” he says. “It was from training. Not sparring, though. I fucked up, wasn’t making the progress he wanted me to.”

Jungkook feels that old rage coming back. A rage he’s only felt toward Aaron fucking Yun. No one has ever made him feel so out of control, so furious to the point that he genuinely believes he could willingly—and happily—harm them.

“So he fucking hit you?” he asks, his voice lower and darker than he intends it to be. He takes a deep, calming breath, fists clenched as Chris nods.

“It was just—”

“No, there’s no excuse you can make for him,” Jungkook says as he turns to grab his gloves from the ring’s edge. He hopes he doesn't regret this, but he can’t just walk away. Not as easily as he could have before. “And you shouldn’t want to. Get in the ring. Show me what you can do.”

Chris doesn’t waste a second to drop his bag to the floor and unzip it, digging out a pair of gloves. He fumbles for a second, too eager to get into the ring as he ducks through the ropes. Jungkook grabs a pair of strike pads before joining him. Across the room, he sees Namjoon sending off his last client before he sits and watches the ring.

“Start by showing me your form,” Jungkook says, and Chris immediately puts his fists up, feet sliding apart. Jungkook circles around him. He kicks Chris’ heel, forcing his back foot forward a bit. “Stance is a little too wide. You’re fighting like you’re Yun’s height but you’re not.”

There’s a frustrated huff from Chris already—a perfectionist. Jungkook will have to train that out of him too.

He almost laughs at himself for thinking like that. Like he’s already made up his mind.

“Looks good, otherwise,” Jungkook says as he stops in front of Chris. He slips the strike pads on and holds them up. “Show me your strength. Hit as hard as you can.”

Again, Chris obeys without question, hitting one pad, then the other, then the first again. Back and forth, hard enough that it pushes Jungkook’s hands back.

“Good. You’re stronger than you look,” he says, earning a small twitch of Chris’ lips. “Try a few strikes now. Jab, jab, low cross, hook, hook. Don’t be slow about it. Show me your speed. If you hit me, I can take it.”

He gestures at which hand to start with, and then braces himself as Chris focuses in on the strike pads and lands every hit with precision. He’s good. At least he isn’t all talk.

“Jab, upper, hook. Quick. I wanna see your form in action,” Jungkook says, and Chris does exactly as he orders him, glove pulling perfectly back to his cheek between strikes to protect himself. “Body cross. Head cross. Right body shot. Left head hook. Don’t slow down, gloves up. Back to the first combo.”

They don’t slow down as Jungkook calls out more combos, changing it up just enough to try to confuse Chris. But the kid stays so focused it’s almost inhuman. He doesn’t miss a beat, every hit landing beautifully.

Jungkook raises his hand to stop Chris before he can go again. He rolls his shoulders back and cracks his neck from side to side.

“Can you remember everything I just had you do?” he asks.

Chris gives him a determined nod.

“Alright, show me. I’m not guiding you this time so you better not miss a single strike,” says Jungkook.

He waits as Chris shakes his arms out, bouncing on his toes to hype himself up. His gloves come up, eyes narrowing as he glances between the strike pads and lines up. As soon as Jungkook nods, Chris launches a flurry of punches, landing every strike from every combo Jungkook had told him before. He doesn’t slip up, he doesn’t trip, even when Jungkook makes him repeat it as they turn in slow circles around each other.

Chris stays centered, undeterred.

He’s good.

He’s really, really fucking good.

Jungkook sidesteps suddenly, causing Chris to stumble into his next punch. He smacks the strike pad against the back of Chris’ head. The kid huffs in defeat as he finds his footing again and turns to face Jungkook. Sweat drips down the side of his face, heavy breaths escaping him and arms hanging at his sides. He doesn’t say a word. He just waits.

“Get some water,” Jungkook says as he tosses the strike pads aside. As Chris hurries for his bag, gloves abandoned on the canvas, Jungkook paces the ring with his hands on his hips. He glances up at where Namjoon still watches them, and he can’t help but wonder what Namjoon will think once he finds out who Chris is.

Especially when Jungkook tells him what he’s planning to do.

Chris slides back into the ring, water bottle still in hand as he comes to face Jungkook. He still doesn’t say a word, the front of his shirt drenched with water.

“What was Aaron’s plan for you?” Jungkook asks, and Chris’ eyes widen with hope. “Did he have any fights lined up for you? Have you fought any amateur fights at all? You’re obviously advanced enough. You’re ready for a fight if you want one.”

“I have a fight in a month,” Chris says. It’s not what Jungkook had expected, it’s a short timeline to work on, but they can manage with Chris’ skill level being what it is already. “My uncle set it up for me. It’s against another fighter he’s worked with in the past. It was just meant to be a friendly, amateur fight. Small time. Nothing big. Trying to ease me into the spotlight.”

“Is it your first fight?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s tongue works over his lips as he stares at the canvas, and then he chews on the inside of his cheek. He knows this is a terrible idea. He knows it’s stupid. There’s no way Aaron Yun won’t take it personally if Jungkook swoops in and starts training his nephew.

But the kid seems desperate, a silent plea in his eyes as he waits for Jungkook’s decision. There’s barely-veiled anxiety bubbling under his surface, a fear that he’s about to be rejected and sent back to exactly where he doesn’t want to be.

Jungkook knows that feeling well. Didn’t matter if he was being sent to a new foster family or rejected from one, either way, he never knew what he was going back to. Never knew what to expect or when he would sleep soundly again, unable to let down his guard.

He can imagine how Chris’ mind is spiraling right now, thinking of every scenario of when he goes back. What happens if Aaron finds out he came here even if Jungkook sends him away? Men like Aaron Yun would see that as a betrayal, and he doesn’t take those kindly.

“When are you available for lessons?” Jungkook asks. If there’s a God, he hopes it’s watching over him right now, that it will make sure he doesn’t regret what he’s about to do.

“Weekends and evenings mostly,” Chris says. “I work during the day.”

“Alright,” says Jungkook. The wide-eyed expression, the near-smile on Chris’ face, almost breaks Jungkook. He really is terrified beneath it all. The black eye must be a constant reminder of what waits for him. “Give me your phone number. I’ll work up a training schedule and text you it later tonight.”

Chris nearly drops his water bottle in his haste for his bag, but then he stops and spins to face Jungkook again. His face breaks into a huge smile, relieved and disbelieving all at once. “Thank you. I’m— I promise, I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had. And I’ll repay you someday.”

Jungkook waves a hand toward the ropes. “Go. Phone,” he says, and Chris rushes off with a nod. It’s hard not to be endeared by him. He seems like a good kid, but he’s going to have to remain just that—just some decent kid out there that Jungkook wants to put on the right path. And then he has to go.

Attachments are hard enough, but Jungkook especially can’t risk caring about someone connected to Aaron Yun.

As Chris searches for his phone and pauses to reply to someone, Jungkook slips out of the ring and heads toward Namjoon, who meets him halfway. Namjoon lifts a brow and glances toward Chris.

“What the hell is this?”

“Me being a fucking moron,” Jungkook says with a glance over his shoulder. He keeps his voice quiet when he meets Namjoon’s eyes again. “Aaron Yun’s nephew. Looking for a trainer.”

It’s a shock that Namjoon doesn’t combust on the spot. His eyes bug out of his skill as he stares at Chris, then at Jungkook. He sputters a bit, lost for any words other than, “Are you fucking stupid?”

Jungkook raises his hand, head dropping as Chris begins to approach. “Don’t. I already know,” he says before he turns to Chris and holds out his hand.

The kid sets his phone in it immediately and Jungkook types in his own number, texting himself. He can hear his phone ding in his office and he hands Chris’ back over.

“Alright. I’ll get that schedule to you tonight. Text me your work schedule and I’ll work around it,” says Jungkook. He can hear Namjoon sigh and mutter something under his breath as he walks away.

“I will,” Chris says. Another smile fights its way onto his face as he bows his head to Jungkook and backs away. “Thank you. Seriously. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”

But he does. Jungkook knows all too well.

“No problem,” Jungkook says. “Just keep it quiet and keep my contact name how I put it in. Just in case someone sees it.”

Chris says a few more frantic thank yous and goodbyes as he packs up and heads for the door. Jungkook follows him to lock the door once he’s gone, and then he turns to face Namjoon. The other man just shakes his head as Jungkook leans on the door.

“That was fucking—”

“Stupid,” Jungkook finishes for him. He pushes away from the door and heads for the office as Namjoon follows.

He knows.

He knows it’s fucking stupid.

Jungkook is inviting things back into his life that he never wanted, that he never should. It took years to finally move on, to stop looking over his shoulder, and here he is. He’s about to bring hell down on himself and he knows it.

Not just him, but his family too if he’s not careful. Aaron Yun, as far as Jungkook knows, never stopped hating him for winning that fight. He had been humiliated. No doubt he would love a chance to get his revenge, to show what a big, tough man he is. Even if that means hurting his nephew. He’s a dangerous fucking monster and Jungkook knows it.

He’s an idiot for doing this. He’s an idiot for giving Aaron a direct path back to him.

But how could he not? How could he leave Chris to fend for himself, knowing what he’d be sending him back to? If Jungkook can do anything to change this kid’s life, to get him away from the lifestyle Aaron would push him into, he will.

It’s obvious he’s a good kid. He’s not Aaron.

And Jungkook can’t condemn him to become that.

So if he’s stupid, then he’s stupid, but he refuses to look back on Chris and regret not helping him. No one ever looked out for Jungkook when he was young and lost.

He won’t leave Chris to experience the same.

Jungkook has never been so relieved to walk through the front door of his home and immediately set to work on demolishing a pizza with Jimin and Hyesoo. No cooking, no dishes to wash after. Nothing but movies and video games until it’s Hyesoo’s bedtime.

They fall into their usual routine—Jungkook showers first while Jimin finishes one more round on a game with Hyesoo, then they trade and Jimin showers while Jungkook makes sure Hyesoo gets ready for bed.

“Alright, who’s the special cuddle buddy tonight?” Jungkook asks as his fingers dance over the tops of Hyesoo’s Squishmallow army. He grins at his daughter as she crawls into bed and tugs the covers up, flopping back on her pillow.

“Lola!” she says, then pulls the blankets up to her chin.

“Good choice.” Jungkook picks up the unicorn and spins it around, tucking her into bed beside Hyesoo, who yawns. He leans down to kiss her forehead and brush her hair from her eyes. “I better not come in and find you up in the middle of the night again.”

Hyesoo giggles and pulls her blankets up to hide half her face, feet kicking beneath the sheets. “You won’t. I’m tired. I’ll sleep.”

“Good,” Jungkook says as he taps the end of her nose. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Dream of unicorns and rainbows and clouds of cotton candy. Goodnight, Tiny.”

“Goodnight, Dad.” Hyesoo snuggles down as he tucks her blankets up around her. Her nightlight shines on, faint and purple, as he flicks the overhead lights off and eases the door shut.

It was only recently that he stopped feeling nervous about leaving her completely alone without staying up late just to make sure she’s okay. He still checks in on her throughout the night, but not as much as he used to, and he doesn’t feel so on edge.

He doesn’t know what he thought was going to happen to her before, but it would take hours before he could relax enough to sleep, staying up until he was simply too tired to force himself to stay awake. Jimin would try to sooth him but it never worked.

Now, he’s more than certain she’s safe. The place is surrounded with cameras and not many people even know where he lives.

Now, he can head into the bedroom, get cozy with Jimin, and even get a little time to themselves if they want. Hyesoo is a heavy sleeper, so they don’t worry about getting interrupted. As long as they’re quiet, they don’t have to try so hard to keep their hands off each other.

Jimin is already waiting in the bedroom, music playing quietly, by the time Jungkook joins him. Jimin pulls on a pair of shorts that match his cropped shirt, a grin on his lips as he observes himself in the mirror. Around his neck sits his necklace, and Jungkook sidles right up to him and kisses the chain, then the corner of Jimin’s mouth.

They’ve already discussed exactly what they want to do tonight. No need to waste any more time.

“Wait on the bed for me while I get changed,” Jungkook tells him, and Jimin nods, stealing a kiss before he does as he says.

He doesn’t expect Jimin to be so obedient all night, though. He’s been in a bratty mood lately, pushing Jungkook’s buttons all week. Every night, Jimin takes it a little further. It’s obvious what he’s pushing for. He’s waiting for Jungkook to put him in his place.

It’s really a testament to their trust in each other how much more experimental they’ve gotten. Jungkook used to be relatively rigid in what he liked, what he was willing to do. He had his ways, and he stuck to them. They were safe. Now, he doesn’t mind Jimin getting a little bossy, a little bratty. He knows that it always ends in the same way. And Jimin knows he can count on Jungkook to always take care of him.

He wouldn’t have let Jungkook collar him the way he has if he didn’t.

Jungkook glances up in the mirror to watch Jimin fidget with his necklace as he waits. It’s a simple chain with a lock that rests beautifully between his collarbones. Only Jungkook has the key to take it off, so Jimin wears it everywhere now, though he typically keeps it tucked beneath his shirt so people don’t ask questions.

Jungkook doesn’t mind. The meaning is still there.

It’s a commitment. A promise to always protect and love and care for Jimin. For people like them—especially in a country where they can’t legally marry—it’s as much of a statement as an engagement ring. It means they’re bound to each other now, inherently tied together.

Before Jimin, Jungkook had never collared a partner. He never felt the need. Never felt that kind of connection. He was always afraid of that sort of commitment, of either being betrayed or letting them down. Not Jimin, though. With Jimin, he wants that reminder that neither of them are going anywhere.

He is bound to Jimin, and Jimin is bound to him. He’s Jungkook’s. That’s what that necklace means. Jimin is all Jungkook’s—belongs to him, belongs with him, fits with him like a missing puzzle piece—and in return, Jungkook will always make sure that Jimin stays safe and cared for. He’ll never feel lost in Jungkook’s hands.

Jungkook changes into pair of loose sweatpants and a tank top before he moves to stand in front of Jimin. He taps beneath his chin and makes Jimin look up at him, then slips his fingers under the necklace and rubs his thumb across it, admiring it.

“How long do you think before she’s asleep?” Jimin asks him. He peers up at Jungkook through his lashes, hands twisted into the bed covers already.

“Not long. She passes out pretty fast,” Jungkook says, and then he gives the necklace a light tug and smirks when Jimin inhales sharply. “Told you you were the animal here. You can’t even fucking wait for me, can you?”

“Maybe I’m sick of waiting,” Jimin says as his hands travel up Jungkook’s stomach, beneath his shirt. They grip Jungkook’s hips and tug him forward as he grins, knees spread wide to let Jungkook fit between them. He catches Jungkook’s shirt with teeth and tugs on it as he leans back to force Jungkook over him.

Jungkook scoffs and grips beneath Jimin’s chin. He tips it up, yanking the shirt from between his teeth before he grips Jimin’s hair. Not hard. Not yet. “You’ve been acting up a lot lately. Bratty all fucking week.”

Jimin’s tongue darts over his lips, still smirking as Jungkook bears over him. “Is that a problem, sir?”

He says it like a taunt, but Jungkook can sense the sincerity behind it. Jimin is still checking that this game is okay, that he isn’t taking it too far. He acts like a fucking minx sometimes, but underneath it all, he just wants to be everything Jungkook needs.

“We’ll see if it becomes one,” Jungkook says before he leans in to kiss Jimin.

But Jimin turns his head away, causing Jungkook’s lips to land on his cheek instead. Without missing a beat, Jungkook grips Jimin’s chin harder and tugs his face around, forcing him into the kiss as Jimin gasps. He leans into it after a moment, but his hands grip Jungkook’s shirt again and hold on, his knee rising to rub up the inside of Jungkook’s thigh and along the outline of his cock.

It sends a thrill through Jungkook, the pressure on his cock increasing as Jimin presses closer and closer. Jimin’s eyes narrow as he smiles. Mischievous. It’s fun when he gets playful like this, but Jungkook knows it won’t last long.

“If I’m being so bad,” Jimin says as he begins to leans forward like he might kiss Jungkook, “then why don’t you stop me—”

His voice cuts off as Jungkook slips his fingers into his mouth with a smirk. Jimin’s eyes widen with surprise as Jungkook’s other hand grips his thigh and slides up beneath his shorts. He leans his weight on him, keeping Jimin pinned to the bed, and then grips around Jimin’s jaw to shove him backward.

Jimin hits the bed with a huff, mouth dropping open, three fingers still shoved deep inside of it as he sucks in a sharp breath. Jungkook can already see the lack of focus in his eyes, the desire to give in.

“You’re not very good at pretending, baby,” Jungkook says as he presses a gentle kiss to the pulse in Jimin’s throat, fingers sliding from his mouth before they fuck back in. Jimin’s eyes flutter shut as he moans around them, and it’s beautiful. He’s stunning when he submits, breathtaking when he’s at peace.

He still tries, though, wrapping his legs around Jungkook, heels digging into the backs of his thighs to try to pull Jungkook forward. Jungkook slips his fingers from Jimin’s mouth, running them down to close loosely around his throat, the other pushing Jimin’s legs back down.

He doesn’t give Jimin time to think what to do next, sliding his hand into Jimin’s shorts and pressing against his perineum. Jimin gasps at the sensation, teeth clamped on his lips to keep himself quiet. As he does, Jungkook tightens his hold, pressing it on either side of Jimin’s throat until he’s writhing. Jimin’s toes curl, hands thrown above his head and fists clenching, lips parted as Jungkook releases and lets him catch his breath.

[Spit it Out - IAMX] 

“Just say you wanna be good,” Jungkook says with a kiss to Jimin’s jaw, his hand still tracing his throat with a promise of more. His lips continue their path along his jaw, kissing as he whispers, making his voice tickle Jimin. “You know what being good gets you. And we both know you’re always fucking desperate for my cock.”

His hand stays on Jimin’s throat, closing around it again as his lips continue down, kissing across his chest. He squeezes, and Jimin gasps and twitches in his hold, legs hooked over the edge of the bed and heels digging into the edge to ground himself. Jungkook circles his tongue around Jimin’s nipple, flicking the tip against it before he latches on and sucks. It makes Jimin buck off the bed for more, Jungkook’s fingers still pressed near his hole and teasing as he thrashes and lets out a choked moan.

Jungkook lets go of his throat again. “You have to be good, baby. Keep it up and you know what happens. You’re almost there. I can feel it.”

He hooks his thumb in Jimin’s mouth and tugs his head up to look at him. Jimin’s chest heaves. Jungkook knows him like the back of his own hand now, he can recognize how far gone Jimin is. Not much longer before he slips into that headspace. Not long before Jungkook gets him right where they both want him.

Jimin takes a few deep breaths, and Jungkook gives him a chance this time. He gives him time to decide if he wants to give in or if he’s looking for a punishment tonight.

The answer is obvious when he bites Jungkook’s thumb. Not hard, but enough to make a point. So Jungkook pulls it from his mouth and stands upright, both hands on Jimin’s hips. He flips him over, tugging him into place so he’s bent fully over the bed, and then presses up against his ass.

“Keep pushing your luck, darling. I dare you.” Jungkook says, and then he tugs Jimin’s shorts over the swell of his ass. He pushes Jimin’s shirt up his back and leaves the shorts around Jimin’s thighs, tucked snugly under his cheeks as Jungkook grips them both. The gasp from Jimin is mouthwatering, the way he arches and pushes back a sight to behold. Jungkook chuckles. “There we go. That’s my baby.”

Jungkook presses his hips up against Jimin again, jarring him against the bed as he grips his wrists and crosses them behind Jimin’s back.

“You stay just like that and wait for me to give you what you deserve,” he says before he steps away. As he crosses the room to grab a pair of restraints and lube, he can see Jimin in the mirrors, waiting impatiently. His hips move, like he’s trying to grind against the bed to get himself off. When Jungkook returns, he grabs Jimin’s hip with one hand and uses the other the land a solid smack across his ass.

Jimin rocks forward, a shocked cry fading into a moan before he muffles himself against the bed. His hands flex outward as Jungkook clasps the soft material of the restraints around his wrists, his arms taut to show every line of muscle. That’s something Jungkook has always loved about having Jimin like this—sitting back and admiring the sheer beauty of his body, both strong and lithe, powerful and yet so willing to let himself be placed under another man’s spell.

He leans back and lets his hand crash down on Jimin’s ass again, then kneads the red mark left behind. Jimin bucks against the bed, forehead pressed into the sheets as he gasps in deep breaths. He barely seems capable of bracing his feet on the floor anymore, thighs flexed, muscles rippling. Jungkook plans to put them to good use tonight.

“Are you ready to behave now?” Jungkook asks as he runs his hand up Jimin’s back, up to toy with the chain of his necklace and pull it against Jimin’s throat. When he doesn’t respond, skin on skin echoes through the air again and Jimin gulps down another moan. “Now?”

It almost looks like Jimin nods, so Jungkook grabs his ass and squeezes again.

“Words, baby boy,” Jungkook says, keeping his voice low, the way he knows will send Jimin over the edge. One more little push. He twists the necklace around his fingers and tugs again, a smile gracing his face when he sees the way Jimin begins to give in. “C’mon, doll, do it for me. You know you want to. You always do.”

Jungkook positions himself behind Jimin and leans down close.

“Be good for your sir and I’ll fuck that pretty hole of yours the way you like.”

Jimin shivers at that, his breath puffing against the sheets.

That’s it.

Jungkook can feel the change in him. He’s ready.

“Say it,” he growls into Jimin’s ear, nipping at it and reveling in the way Jimin sighs.

Jimin sucks in a long, sharp breath, lashes fluttering. His body is lax beneath Jungkook, tremors rocking him occasionally as he slips out of his mind. And then he says, as best as he can, “Sir. Please.”

Jungkook gives Jimin one last pat on the ass, not hard this time, and kneads at the flesh as Jimin gasps and then whimpers for more. He buries his face into the blankets once again, his entire body heaving as he catches his breath. Jungkook can feel him relax beneath him, giving himself over to Jungkook. His wrists go limp in Jungkook’s hand, no longer trying to squirm free.

“You gonna be a good boy for me now?” Jungkook asks as his hand pushes through Jimin’s hair, tugging to make him turn his head, cheek pressed against the mattress.

Jimin pants out soft, frantic breaths, his face flushed red with excitement. “Yes— Yes, sir, I’ll be good for you.”

Jungkook brushes his thumb along Jimin’s ear. The slightest praise to encourage him to keep going along this path, letting him know he’s doing well. “Say it. Say you’ll be my good boy.”

“I’ll be your good boy.” Jimin swallows hard, throat bobbing as his lashes flutter, eyes still closed. “I promise, sir. I promise, I— I’ll be good.”

“You’re gonna do what I say and get me off the way you always do,” Jungkook tells him as he slowly loosens his grip on Jimin, bit by bit. His hand slides from his hair to grasp the back of his neck. When he brushes the necklace with his pinky, there’s a light sigh of content from Jimin.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. That’s my little doll,” Jungkook says. A smile slips onto his lips when he sees Jimin lets out another long breath, his body sinking deeper into the bed. “Made just for me. You’re gonna be good and let me fuck you however I want, right?”

Jungkook pulls Jimin upright by his shoulder, one hand still holding his wrists behind his back to keep him subdued. He slides his arm around Jimin’s shoulder, tracing back and forth along the necklace before he lightly places his hand against Jimin’s throat.

“Repeat that back to me.”

As Jimin’s head falls back, lips parted in heavy gasps, Jungkook trails his fingers up to trace Jimin’s lips. “You can fuck me however you want. Made for you, sir. Made to make you feel good,” Jimin says, his voice airy and light. “I’ll make you feel so good, I swear.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook says as his fingers slip inside Jimin’s mouth. He feels him hum around them, happily laving his tongue around them, taking them in to their knuckles. Jungkook presses a kiss behind his ear. “You always do, baby. You’re gonna do everything I say until I want you to stop. Understood?”

His fingers slip out and draw a line of spit down Jimin’s chin. Jungkook fits his hand between his and Jimin’s bodies, wet fingers teasing at his rim.

“Yes, sir,” Jimin says, his body beginning to tremble in anticipation, the words escaping him in a near whine. “Please— Please, sir, I wanna be good for you. I wanna be so good for you. Want— wanna get you off. Make you come. Please. Please.”

Jungkook lets his hand slip away from Jimin, though, leaving his hole fluttering, untouched. At first there’s a slight whimper, like Jimin might beg, but Jungkook pulls Jimin against his body and holds him until he realizes he’s not going anywhere.

“You’re gonna make up for all that time you wasted,” Jungkook says as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and slides them down. “Get on the bed.”

There are no protests, no snappy remarks. Jimin climbs onto the bed and kneels, turning to face Jungkook when he nudges him. Jungkook steps up to the bed and gives him a soft kiss. The way Jimin’s eyes flutter open to look at him, dazed and drunken, makes Jungkook’s cock twitch. He’s so pretty like this. So perfect. And it’s all for Jungkook.

“You’re gonna watch yourself,” Jungkook says as he cups Jimin’s jaw with one hand and makes him look at the mirror over Jungkook’s shoulder, “as you fuck yourself on my cock. Either in that mirror or,” he tilts Jimin’s head up to look at the mirror on the ceiling, “that one.”

“Yes, sir,” Jimin says shakily, voice trembling with excitement as Jungkook kisses him again. “I want you, sir. Please— Please, sir, I need you so bad.”

“You have me, doll. Don’t worry.”

Jungkook climbs onto the bed behind Jimin, uncapping the lube and spreading it over his fingers. Jimin won’t need much prep—they’ve been at this all week, absolutely incapable of keeping their hands off of each other—but he circles two fingers around Jimin’s hole and presses inside him. He slides his hand around Jimin’s throat again, tracing his necklace as he watches him.

Jimin does as he’s told, keeping his eyes on the mirror despite the way they want to slip shut. Sharp breaths escape him, legs shaking as Jungkook opens him up, scissoring inside him. He slips a third finger in and presses his cock to Jimin’s hip, pushing deep until a small whimper escapes. Jimin’s teeth clamp over his lip to stop himself from moaning.

Normally, Jungkook would insist he let himself be heard, but not tonight. Tonight they have to be quiet. Shame, too, because he knows Jimin would sound like heaven like this.

“Alright, baby, come here,” Jungkook says as his fingers slip from Jimin. He grips his hips, pulling him back before he lies back on the bed. Jimin straddles him, facing away from him, every slight twitch and tremor in his body like an electric shock through Jungkook. He’s so compliant, so ready to do anything Jungkook tells him.

It’s been awhile since he’s been this far gone for Jungkook.

Jungkook grabs the lube again and slicks up his cock, pulling Jimin down by his restraints before he positions his cock at his entrance.

“Go ahead, angel,” Jungkook says. “You earned it. Fuck yourself onto my cock, baby. Don’t stop unless I say so.”

“Yes, sir,” Jimin says as he Jungkook guides him onto his cock, pushing past the tight ring of muscle and feeling the clench of Jimin’s walls around him. He’s always so warm and tight for Jungkook, but can always take him one swift motion, like he can’t wait to be filled to the brim with Jungkook.

Jungkook lets his head snap back on the bed as he sighs in pleasure, folding one arm behind his head so he can enjoy the show. His other hand runs up Jimin’s spine, urging him to arch his back as he adjusts to Jungkook’s size. His thighs tremble on either side of Jungkook, hands clenched as he contains himself and waits for the order.

“Go ahead.”

Jimin lifts and drops himself back onto Jungkook’s cock, taking him in easily. His legs flex, muscles working as he desperately fucks himself open. Jungkook’s eyes flit from Jimin’s face in the mirror and the sheer pleasure decorating it as he watches him, and the sight of his cock disappearing inside of Jimin over and over, the stretch of around Jungkook’s cock, the marks on his ass.

He can’t resist gripping Jimin’s ass cheek and pushing it to one side, spreading him apart for a better view. The sounds are lewd and wet, the slide of slick cock in and out of Jimin filling the air, and his quiet whimpers as he tries not to moan aloud.

“That’s right, baby. You’re doing so well,” Jungkook tells him, then plants a light smack to his ass before he reaches up to tangle his hand in Jimin’s hair instead. He tugs just enough to make him look up at the mirror overhead. “Look at yourself. You’re so fucking beautiful when you take my cock. Such a pretty little doll for me.”

A shaky breath slips from between Jimin’s lips, his throat bobbing as he stares up at the mirror. His pace never slows despite slightly faltering at times. He does as he says. He fucks himself the way Jungkook told him to, and he never stops. Obedient, stunning, and wrecked already.

Exactly as they both like him to be.

Jungkook digs his heels into the bed and thrusts up, angling his hips the way he knows he needs to. And it nails the spot inside Jimin that nearly makes him cry out. Instead, it comes out as a choked sound, like a gag as he forces the sound down. Another praise slips from Jungkook, reminding him that he’s doing well, that he’s done exactly as Jungkook has said.

Soft moans and whimpers escape Jimin, his hips beginning to lose their pace. Jungkook sits up and reaches around him, gripping Jimin’s cock to stop his orgasm in its tracks.

Jimin’s fists clench, head dropping as he grits his teeth and fights down a sob. There are tears in his eyes, but no signs of discomfort, no safewords or signals.

“Not yet, baby,” Jungkook says as he kisses Jimin’s shoulder. “I have other plans for you. Keep going.”

And he drops back on the bed, letting Jimin continue fucking himself open. His body heaves with ragged breaths, head thrown back again, hands straining against his bonds.

Jungkook could watch him like this forever. His beautiful, headstrong, straightforward Jimin, turning to putty atop him, marked with Jungkook’s hands and teeth and lips, claimed by the lock around his neck. So willing to let Jungkook take him like this, to trust him with everything.

Jungkook can feel a tension in his stomach, heat pooling as he meets Jimin’s hips with his own. His hands run all over Jimin now, desperate to touch him, to feel the way his body shakes for Jungkook, every jolt of pleasure that runs through him.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop, my angel,” Jungkook says as he grabs Jimin’s hip, helping guide his movement until Jungkook feels the tension snap. His legs go taut as he snaps up to come inside Jimin, hips jerking against him roughly enough to jar Jimin.

Jimin’s moans are muffled by his teeth on his lip, but his back arches beautiful to take Jungkook as deep as he can, settling down on his cock as it twitches inside him. Jungkook takes a moment to admire him again, letting himself come down from the high, still seated fully in Jimin, warm and wet with his cum. He can feel Jimin trembling on top of him, and Jungkook can’t resist any longer.

Jungkook undoes the restraints and tosses them aside, lifting Jimin off his cock. As soon as he lays Jimin back on the bed and moves to cage him, Jimin’s hands reach for him, grasping his arms, trying to hold on as Jungkook kisses him.

“I’ve got you, Jimin. I’ve got you, love. Come here,” Jungkook says, hand wrapped around Jimin’s cock. Jimin immediately thrusts into his hand, arched off the bed, for more. He’s incoherent, babbling as Jungkook kisses down his body, all the way to settle between his legs.

His eyes follow Jungkook every second as he leans down and a kisses the inside of Jimin’s thigh, then licks up the underside of his cock. Jimin twitches and cries out, hand clapping over his mouth. He’s dewy with sweat, beautiful as he fights the urge to beg.

He doesn’t need to. He’s done more than enough for tonight, so Jungkook wraps his lips around the tip and makes sure Jimin doesn’t budge. He holds him down, not allowing him to buck up for more, easing Jimin’s cock into his throat.

Jungkook listens to the musical sound of Jimin’s moans as he sucks him off, precum slick and bittersweet on his tongue. Jimin sounds even better than the actual music in the room. He could listen to this all night.

Jungkook pulls off with a wet pop, his hand smoothing over Jimin’s stomach when he feels him trying to arch for more. “You’re okay, baby. We’re almost there. Relax.”

And then his hand presses between Jimin’s legs, the other holding his cock as Jungkook takes it into his mouth again. He doesn’t bother with more lube, gathering up any cum that has slipped from Jimin and fucking it back into him. It eases the slide, allowing him to slip easily back into Jimin’s hole, already loose from riding Jungkook.

His tongue laves over the head of Jimin’s cock, dipping into the slit as Jimin thrashes to one side. He throws his arm across his face to hide his voice as he moans, heels digging into the bed and sliding over the sheets. His hands flex like they want to grab Jungkook, but he resists.

Like always, he’s good for Jungkook, and he waits for his reward, reaching above himself to claw at the sheets instead. Jimin’s chest heaves, his eyes finding Jungkook just as his cock disappears into Jungkook’s throat again.

Jungkook smirks around the length in his mouth, then bobs his head down to take it deeper, fingers massaging against Jimin’s prostate. The harsh whine from Jimin makes Jungkook’s head spin.

Jimin’s entire body flushes red, his back arching before he forces himself back down. “Fuck, fuck— Sir, please, please let me—” he begs, the frantic pace of his breath and the tears in his eyes enough of a warning to Jungkook. “Oh, oh god— Jungk— Sir, ah!”

A long moan cuts him off as he comes, body twisting again to bury his face in the sheets and silence himself. It doesn’t stop Jungkook from hearing him, though, and it sends thrills down his spine, watching and hearing the way Jimin comes apart as he spills down Jungkook’s throat. Jungkook’s thumb traces up and down the underside of his cock, fingers still pressed firmly against his prostate.

He doesn’t ease up until Jimin’s voice trails off into broken moans, and then harsh, ragged breaths. Jimin flops back again as Jungkook’s lips leave him, fingers slipping out before he crawls up and holds himself over Jimin.

“Hey,” Jungkook says as Jimin catches his breath, curling a finger beneath his chin. “Open your eyes, precious. Look at me.”

Jimin’s eyes ease open, drooping and tired as Jungkook kisses across his face.

“You did so well,” he whispers against Jimin’s ear. “So well, baby. Made me feel so good. Come here. Come here, babe.”

Jungkook kisses the necklace, arms around Jimin to pull him into his lap. Jimin straddles him, barely holding himself up, arms thrown over Jungkook’s shoulders, head hanging. His whole body shakes with every deep breath. It slows down over time as he sinks into Jungkook’s hold, the tremors in his body easing.

“We’re gonna get you cleaned up, okay? Get you hydrated.” Jungkook presses a kiss to his temple, his voice a soft whisper on his skin. He can feel Jimin’s tears on his shoulder. “I love you so much, Jimin. I love you, baby. Never letting you go.”

He leans back and lifts Jimin’s chin, wiping away the tears, kissing down the tracks until Jimin tilts his head and captures Jungkook’s lips. Jungkook smiles into the kiss, a little chuckle escaping him as Jimin peppers him with tiny kisses, barely coherent, still dazed.

“Hold on, baby. Gonna take care of you now,” Jungkook says before he lays Jimin back down.

Aftercare is a finely tuned routine by now. Jungkook has a warm rag in hand in seconds, wiping Jimin clean of sweat and cum, slipping the warmth between his legs to clean him up.

Jimin is almost completely limp on the bed, lying half-curled on his side as Jungkook kneels beside him again. He looks so serene, on the verge of falling asleep already. Not yet, though. Jungkook helps him upright, sitting back against the headboard and letting Jimin lie back on his chest.

“Open up,” he says, water bottle at Jimin’s lips. He carefully pours the water into Jimin’s mouth until he’s had enough, then takes a drink for himself before he wraps Jimin up in his arms again.

His hands work over Jimin’s body, massaging his overworked muscles as he whispers more praises to him. It takes a little longer than usual for Jimin to start coming back to earth, now curled beneath the covers with Jungkook at his back. He rolls over to face Jungkook, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into his throat.

Soft lips dot kisses across Jungkook, knuckles running along his spine, pressing in lightly. No matter how far he’s pushed, how exhausted he is, Jimin never lets a scene like this pass without taking care to return Jungkook’s love. He always holds on just as tight, covers him in just as many kisses.

It brings Jungkook back from that mindset, that place where he feels like he’s floating above the world, like he’s untouchable, invincible. It grounds him, anchors him, and brings him right back to the moment. Right back to Jimin’s arms.

“Love you,” Jimin mutters, still sleepy as he reaches up to card through Jungkook’s hair. “Love you so much.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly as he kisses the top of Jimin’s head and squeezes him closer, fingers still toying with the chain of Jimin’s necklace. He meant it when he said he’s never letting him go. He’s never letting this go. What they have is too perfect. Having Jimin in his arms like this, soft and vulnerable and beautiful, is too perfect.

“I know, precious,” Jungkook whispers. “I love you too.”

Jimin is, once again, sore at the studio the next day, texting Jungkook throughout to scold him for making him ride him like that. Apparently his thighs have been burning all day during lessons, so Jungkook makes up for it by bringing lunch and coffee to his office. He also stops by throughout the day to check for any signs of him dropping from the high last night. But so far, so good.

“You feeling good too?” Jimin asks when they stop for a chat in Jimin’s office before his final class of the day. He’s been extra attentive this time. It wouldn’t be the first time that Jungkook has dropped too, but he feels fine so far.

He appreciates the tenderness in Jimin’s eyes, though, and in the way he touches Jungkook. Featherlight, slow, careful caresses, his knuckles tracing Jungkook’s jaw.

“I’m good,” Jungkook says with a kiss to Jimin’s palm, then his cheek. “Promise.”

“Okay,” Jimin says softly and he sits atop his desk, a slight intake of breath suggesting that he’s still a little sore. Jungkook makes a mental note to take care of that again tonight, give him another massage, maybe soak in a hot bath with him until he feels better. “Do you have any more students for the day or are you finished?”

“Two more,” Jungkook says as he steps between Jimin’s legs, running his hands up his arms as Jimin grips the sides of his hoodie.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“Uh, your choice. I’m staying late tonight,” Jungkook says, guilt shooting through him when Jimin cocks his head curiously. “New student, but he works during the day and only has time in the evenings. Won’t be too long but I will be late, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I can just take Soo home and watch her while you’re here,” Jimin says, and that only makes Jungkook feel worse. Jimin has no idea who he’s training, what kind of danger Jungkook could bring into their lives by doing it. Jimin, without a single clue, does what he always does and offers a helping hand and his time to their family. And Jungkook repays him by keeping him in the dark.

Jungkook runs his finger along Jimin’s necklace and smiles at him. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

So much for trust and honesty.

“Any time. You know I love hanging out with her,” Jimin says with another kiss. “We love gossiping about you while you’re not around.”

“Awful. Terrible. Can’t believe I’m in a committed relationship with such a backstabber,” Jungkook says as he turns Jimin’s face to kiss one corner of his mouth, then the other, then holds him in place to look into his eyes. “Text me if you need anything else. If you feel yourself dropping. If Hyesoo breaks something. Anything. And I’ll come running.”

“I think we’ll survive,” Jimin says with a smirk as he leans in. “No guarantees, though.” He steals another kiss and then lightly pinches Jungkook’s chest. “Now, get out of here. I have to finish my class and get ready to interview a new instructor.”

“Oh, is this that kid you were talking about?”

“Kid? He’s 21,” Jimin says, and Jungkook nods.

“Yeah, that’s a kid. I’m an old man now.” He squeezes Jimin’s thighs, then slaps them lightly before he steps back. “Alright. Good luck. Hope he’s good.”

“Me too.” Jimin kicks outward as Jungkook leaves, barely brushing against his ass before Jungkook darts out of the office.

A few instructors and students recognize him as they pass, saying hello before they go about their day. He slips back over to the gym, just in time to meet his next student and breeze right through the lesson.

If he’s honest, his mind is already on what he’s going to work on with Chris. A part of him is excited to train someone for a career, even though he told himself he never would. Despite it all, he does slightly miss the thrill of getting in the ring, of hearing the crowd cheer. He misses facing off with an opponent with real consequences if he doesn’t fight his best.

It may not be the same, but training Chris to do that is adjacent. It’s close enough.

And maybe he’s a little bit amused by the idea of swooping in and training him right under Aaron’s nose. Even though he knows it’s stupid, it’s a small way to get under Aaron’s skin.

And that’s satisfying, even if it is a bad idea.

Despite everything, Jungkook was once a thrill seeker, and something like that never fully goes away. All it takes is ignoring his better judgment.

“Christopher,” Jungkook calls out when he notices the kid waiting for him by the ring. “We’ll start over here.”

“Just Chris, please,” Chris says as he hurries to join Jungkook “You sound like my mother when you call me Christopher.”

Jungkook snorts, head shaking as he comes to a stop in the corner of the gym. He doubts Chris will like his training methods, but he knows it works. Songjin trained Jungkook well, so he knows what works. He’s sure Chris expects to jump right into the ring and start sparring, but that’s Aaron Yun’s way. Whoever trained Chris before Aaron knew what they were doing, and Jungkook intends to keep him on that track.

If there’s anything Aaron drilled into his head, Jungkook’s first goal is to drown it out.

“I need you to answer something for me before we start,” Jungkook says as he leans on the squat rack beside him, hip cocked and hands still in his front pocket. Chris nods, bracing like he’s about to take a punch rather than be asked something. “Why do you wanna fight?”

Chris stares blankly at him, the question not seeming to sink in for a moment. Once it does, he blinks at Jungkook, his entire body growing tense. “I don’t— I don’t know.”

“Don’t over think it. Just say what feels right. It doesn’t have to be profound.”

“I don’t know,” Chris says again, but this time Jungkook doesn’t believe him. He definitely has a reason, but he’s afraid to say it. He seems reluctant, but the longer Jungkook stares at him in silence, the more he seems to realize he has to answer before they train. “I guess it— It makes me feel in control.”

Jungkook cocks his head at him. He doesn’t think he needs Chris to explain, but he’ll let him. Just those words are enough, though. He gets it.

“I don’t like feeling weak or powerless or like anyone else has control over me. I’ve spent years like that with the people around me,” Chris continues. “In the ring, though? I know how to fight. I know how to defend myself. I just feel… safe. Even though it’s probably the least safe place I’ve ever put myself in.”

Something in Jungkook stirs, and he hates that he knows what it is. An old feeling he hasn’t had in a long time, the same feeling he would get when he’d take some other kid in the system with him under his wing.

It’s that need to protect.

And understanding. He understands Chris, probably better than he would like to. He would very much like to not understand him. It makes him fond. It makes him attached. And there’s so much about that that can put them all in hot water.

“Okay,” Jungkook says as he turns away from the machine and ducks down to grab something from the floor. “Good enough.”

“So did I pass? Or whatever,” Chris asks, a confused, crooked smirk on his face.

“There’s no pass or fail. Just about any answer would have been good enough. There was only one I didn’t want. Let’s get started.” Jungkook turns to face him, and as soon as Chris sees what’s in his hands, he grimaces. Jungkook tosses it to him. “You’re jumping rope to warm up. Hop to it, kid.”