The Right Fit | BTS Maknae Line

2

You visit the boutique before the sun greets the city, as you always do. By the window, you bask in the breathtaking view of twinkling Christmas lights and decorations dancing against the star-barren sky. Proof that there lies hope even in the darkness.

You use this precious time to sketch a few raw ideas in your notebook. You've been itching to push a new collection with a unique theme, but you can't help feeling you've already dished out your best ideas. Has your peak passed? As you struggle in a creative crisis, the shopgirls merrily arrive and engage in their usual daily gossip.

"Please prepare Park Jimin's items so that they're ready when he arrives," you request.

You expect to hear a competitive game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who will fetch the order. Instead, the trio scurries to retrieve the garment bag from the stockroom, arguing over who will be the one to hand it to him. You roll your eyes and laugh. The girls have never been so excited to do work. That must be the power of Park Jimin. 

As if on cue, Jimin saunters in and exchanges a warm greeting. You motion for the garment bag that Yoonki finally tears from Joonhee's vicious grasp. After a short victory dance, she reluctantly passes it to you and beams at Jimin before skipping back to her friends.

"You're early again," you note.

His lips curl into a smirk. "I wanted to see you." He points to the bag you're holding against your chest. You'd like to imagine he's pointing right at you. "Mine?"

You walk around the counter to place the bag in his hands. "Would you like to try it on to be sure of the measurements?"

He nods, shaking his bangs over his pretty face. "I'm sure you've made no mistakes, but I've got time to put on a show." He throws the bag over his shoulder and heads to the fitting room, leaving the shopgirls to squeal and melt into their shoes. You wish you could do the same, but someone's got to be the professional here.

"Use me if you need me," you call to him.

"I sure will," he says with a wink.

You hang outside his room and smoothen your skirt, impatiently awaiting his call. He draws the curtain similar to yesterday's style, but now he's shirtless with an unbuckled belt dangling around his dangerously thin waist.

You gasp, pleasantly caught off guard and instantly aroused by his flawless physique. He chuckles and looks down at himself, pretending not to know what he's done to you. "I'm sorry," he says without intention.

You fix your unhinged jaw and shake your head. "No worries. Can I help?"

"Do you mind buttoning my shirt? My fingers aren't very nimble."

Blood rushes to your face, but luckily your makeup hides this embarrassing truth. Indeed, his fingers are atypically thick. Avoiding his eyes, you inhale a hefty breath and step into his fitting room, pulling the curtain closed. The sleeves glide over his glass-like skin as you pull them over his arms. You fasten the first button and work your way down. As you come to the end of the shirt, you accidentally knock his belt buckle, inspiring a sudden jingle that draws both your attention down. You stop yourself from staring at his crotch and regretfully step away.

"Will that be all?" you ask, nervous about what will happen next.

He leans his forearm against the wall, crowding you in the small space and shaking his head slowly. "I don't want this interaction to end," he says in a low tone. It's a relief to know the feeling is mutual.

You tongue your cheek and glance at the bulge in his pants more freely now. Is he excited or just naturally well-endowed? Fixated on this one question, you meet his dark gaze and lock eyes. "Then, ask me when you can see me again."

He doesn't miss a beat. "When can I see you again?"

You stand on your tiptoes and whisper against his neck, "Tonight."

He clenches his jaw and backs away, nodding satisfactorily. "I think this is a good fit," he says, checking himself out in the mirror.

The graceful lines of his body are irresistibly exquisite. Such ethereal proportions shouldn't exist. It's just unfair to everyone else. Behind him, you smoothen the fabric over his confident shoulders. "You look perfect," you comment before fleeing to the front desk. A minute longer in that tiny space with him and there's no way you'd make it to tonight.

You haven't experienced a man in over a year. At this point, you'd be satisfied by anything that fits inside you. It's been all about business all the time. How else would you have built and managed your own empire so successfully without partners or investors? Thankfully, the most difficult of times seem to have passed, so you can afford a quick taste of a man again. It wouldn't be anything serious, of course. You aren't done building. You have a franchise to consider.

The timing seems perfect. He's fallen into your lap just as you've reached your breaking point with celibacy, and the physical attraction is undeniable. On his way out, Jimin doesn't forget to stop by the counter to mention, "I'll be waiting eagerly."

Certainly, he isn't as eager as you.

◌ ◌ ◌

Surviving the workday proves to be a tremendous challenge. Your filthy thoughts and growing desire overrule every other fleeting idea. Several hours of superior customer service and numerous bouts of creative demise nearly drive you off the rails. When the time is right, you lock up shop without delay and quickly punch Jimin's number into your phone from the sticky note you set aside earlier today. You shouldn't save a client's personal information but there's no other way to contact him.

It rings twice before he answers, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Y/N," you nervously choke, abandoning all efforts of pulling off a sexy voice. You're tense as hell. It's like you have no idea what you're doing.

"Ahh... I didn't think you were serious about meeting," he admits.

"Are you unavailable?" You try not to sound too disappointed, but you can't help feeling annoyed by the uncertainty.

"Oh, I'm available," he assures. He offers to meet you, but you're uninterested in a long night.

"I'd feel more comfortable if we met at your place," you say. This way, you can simply slip out when the deed is done. 

You take down his address and skip to your car. On the drive, you check your appearance in the mirror and lightly freshen your makeup. You practice a few sexy faces and let out a series of scripted moans before deciding you're being weird for no reason.

It'll be fine. Love cost you everything you had in Ilsan, but you're in Seoul now and things have been just peachy. Just don't fall in love, and it'll be a great night. You're allowed to sleep with whoever you want. Park Jimin is a fine choice.

You pull into a mile-long stone driveway and stare up at the magnificent three-story house that comes into view. How can he afford such a luxury? Could this be an inheritance or an Airbnb? You park your old sedan behind a glistening Porsche, careful to keep some distance. You probably can't afford to breathe on it.

After gawking at the layout of the land for a solid minute, you head to the house and ring the bell. The enormous door lightly swings on its hinges and reveals a smug Jimin, smiling boyishly. His hair is wet and messy as if he's just showered. A loose shirt hangs off his body, begging to be removed. You bite your lip and search for something to say, but no words could properly encompass what you feel in this moment. You decide to skip the formalities.

Wasting no more time, you lunge on him and grab his face, laying a hot, wet kiss on his soft pink lips.

It'll be fine.

⚘ ⚘ ⚘