CHAPTER THREE.

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Namjoon had half-expected Jimin to not come but is surprised to find the smaller man in the doorway of his lavish apartment. He's dressed simply. A pair of black jeans and a grey hoodie that all but swamps his already small figure. His hair looks to be freshly washed, a few strands standing out messily, and his eyes disappear into crescents as he lets out a "hello!" that is perhaps too chirpy for the bar owner's liking.

"You know, you have way too much trust in people," Namjoon says as he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of him. Jimin blinks and cocks his head to the side, looking every bit a confused puppy. "I tell you to come to a random address and you just march right in without question. What if I was a serial killer or a rapist?"

"Oh...I didn't really give that a thought," Jimin muses with a frown. "Well...are you?"

"Even if I was a serial killer, why would I admit it?"

"OK, that's really confusing."

"Nevermind," Namjoon mumbles and lets the smaller man inside his apartment. Jimin happily walks in and looks around the spacious living, oohing and ahhing at every decor as he walks around like a tourist. Namjoon shakes his head as he plops on the couch and rolls up his white shirt sleeves. "Will you cut that out and just sit?"

"Oh! I brought cake. I didn't know what you're into so I got like a bunch of different ones," Jimin explains as he places the box he's been holding onto the coffee table. Namjoon raises a delicate eyebrow. This is probably the first time anyone's brought cake to his apartment. Men have brought expensive drinks, sex toys, even whips and chains depending on what they were into, but never cake.

"You brought cake."

"Yeah. Do you want them now or should I put them in the fridge?"

"Fridge is fine," Namjoon murmurs and takes the box to the kitchen. He returns to the living room to find Jimin staring at his big flat screen TV. "Alright, since you're here, let's just get started."

"Oh, OK, just a second." Jimin puts a finger up and then rummages through his bag to take out a small notepad and a pen. And the notepad has a few gold heart-shaped stickers on it. Namjoon can't believe this shit. He hasn't seen a stickered stationary since graduating middle school (he swears that some of the girls got high off stickers).

"Did you bring an actual notepad to take notes?" Namjoon asks in disbelief, yet Jimin nods enthusiastically as he flips to a blank page.

"I'm ready!"

Namjoon opens his mouth but then just shakes his head instead. "OK then...I'm just going to ask you some questions. Just fyi, taking notes like that isn't sexy."

"Yeah, but I'm learning, not trying to seduce a guy."

"Fine. First question, how many men have you been with. Romantically, as you'd like to call it," Namjoon asks and places emphasis on the word "romantic," knowing that it's going to get on the smaller man's nerves. Jimin shoots him a dirty look, but the taller man ignores it.

"Four..ish."

"Four...ish. Right. Sure. And you're saying you've never had sex with any of them."

Jimin nods ruefully. Namjoon crosses one leg over the other while scanning Jimin. He knows for a fact that it doesn't take too much for a gay man to find a partner if he needs one. There were a lot of horny men in their 20s at the bar, and while Jimin isn't exactly a stunner, he's got a cute charm anyone looking for a twink would be all over, with some alcohol in his system. So what really was the problem?

it's just kissing | m.j ✓Where stories live. Discover now