When Worlds Collide | PJM - KTH ✓ (Hahm Series #3)

Chapter 11

'Yo, PJ!'

Jimin's feet had scarcely touched the grand staircase when he cursed, swivelled around, and back-pedalled to the rowdy billiard room.

What a shocking revelation; there was another baseball match on the TV, buckets of greasy chicken, scattered soju bottles and a multitude of ankles spanning the glass-top table.

'You wanna watch the rest of the game with us?' Jungkook suggested, his black hair sprouting from his scalp as he squashed closer to Suga to create a gap. 'It's only half-time.'

Despite knowing the answer, Jimin lingered in the doorway and reflected on the invitation for appearance's sake while roving the slothful scene.

Suga and Jungkook were wedged against the end of the settee drinking beer, while Tae - alcohol free and immersed in his phone - sprawled across the majority of the couch, ignoring his presence.

Harnessing in his exasperation, Jimin disregarded the pig of a man with equal measure.

'Sorry, guys,' he sucked on his teeth with an apologetic wince, 'rain check?'

'Aw,' Jungkook griped as his broad shoulders sagged, 'but I saved you a bottle of soju and two chicken drumsticks-'

'Leave the poor man alone, JK,' Suga defended as his glacial gaze travelled the length of Jimin's body. 'I'm sure he has better things to do with his time.'

'Huh,' Tae grunted, his eyelids squinting a fraction as he studied whatever was displayed on his screen. 'If no one claims those drumsticks, I will.'

'He speaks,' Jimin muttered as Suga side-eyed Tae with a murky scowl.

Shifting his backside along the sofa, Jungkook bounced right into his personal space. 'Whatchoo lookin' at, Tae-Tae?'

'Fixed blades,' the slouching man uttered as he hard-pressed his palm into Jungkook's pectorals. 'Please fuck off.'

Tae's forearm began to tremble under the weight of his muscular mate before he resignedly sighed and swung his legs off the couch to climb to his feet. Pocketing his mobile with a jaded glower, he swiped up a piece of unwanted chicken, biting into it while sauntering in Jimin's direction.

'Oh, hello,' Tae saluted with a mouthful of food as he shaved past him out into the foyer. 'Goodbye.'

So much for acting like a courteous adult under his roof.

'Arsehole,' Jimin grumbled, steering himself into the billiard room before he drove his fixed blade into the ignorant son-of-a-bitch's skull.

'One of the biggest,' Suga concurred as he uncapped a bottle of soju and poured a round of shots.

Perching on the sofa arm, Jimin accepted the liquor. 'Everything alright with you guys? I'm sensing a bit of tension.'

'There's tension in all of Tae's relationships,' Suga reasoned before necking his drink and passing a glass to Jungkook. 'I don't condone the way he speaks to you. I've told him countless times to show you some respect while he's here, but as always, it falls on deaf ears.'

'Why do you still hang around with him, Yoongi?' Jimin asked bluntly.

'Because that "arsehole" helped me through some of the roughest years of my life, and has been there for me more times than I can actually remember.' Suga shrugged and tossed down his glass. 'He cares. He just has a funny way of showing it.'

'I'll say,' Jimin sniffed, twirling the beaker of clear liquid in his fingers while recollecting all the times Tae had been a bitch to him when they were young teens.