JesBible Oneshots

Some Things Pull You In

Jes had always believed in effort.

In routine. In waking up before dawn, in fifteen-hour flights, in fitting into whatever image the world demanded. His life was measured in runway call times and editorial deadlines, in luxury hotel rooms and neon signs behind smoked-glass car windows.

He had made it.
Top of the fashion industry. Recognizable. Wanted.

But lately, Jes had begun to feel like he was always catching up to something. Something just out of reach.

He didn't think much of it.

Because Jes didn't believe in fate.
Not in love. Not in soulmates. And definitely not in invisible threads.

That was something people romanticized to make loneliness easier to bear.

And Jes? Jes wasn't lonely.
Just... a little untethered.

Bible's life was different, but equally full.

His calendar was a nightmare: press junkets, drama shoots, award ceremonies, variety show appearances. He was good at being charming, almost too good. The kind of man who smiled for cameras and spoke three languages in interviews, and still managed to feel like your best friend on screen.

But it wasn't real. Not always.

Most of it was calculated, carefully timed. Scripted.

There was a quiet ache in Bible sometimes a yearning for something that didn't feel like performance. Something real. Something that made the noise stop.

But he never said it aloud.
Because who would understand?

.

.

They met, unintentionally.

A fashion event in Seoul. Jes was flown in by Balenciaga, Bible was making a surprise appearance with a film director friend. They weren't introduced. Not at first.

Bible brushed past Jes on the way to the bar, just barely grazing his shoulder.

And that's when it happened.

Jes stopped mid-step.

Bible turned at the same time.

It wasn't attraction — not immediately. It was disruption. Like the air between them bent suddenly, or the world had skipped a beat. Jes's hand twitched. Bible's pinky tingled sharply.

They locked eyes. Just a second too long to be casual. Jes's breath caught in his throat.
Bible blinked, confused, like he'd just heard something without sound.

Then someone called Jes's name, and the spell broke.

Neither of them mentioned it.
Why would they?

They didn't even know each other's names.

It kept happening.

In Tokyo, they were cast in the same campaign shoot. In Paris, they found themselves in the same elevator after a brand dinner. In Bangkok, they crossed paths at a gala, caught in the same photos even though they weren't talking.

Always brief. Always coincidental.
Always the same feeling:
That invisible pull.

Jes would feel it first, a strange awareness, the way you feel a string tugging at your hand in a dream. He'd look around and find Bible somewhere nearby. Sometimes already staring. Sometimes already walking toward him.

Neither said anything.

But both noticed.

.

.