CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

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Namjoon glances at the figure now decidedly sleeping on the couch in the office. He had told Jimin to go home after icing the bruise for a few minutes, but the smaller man decided to stick around because he was "too excited" to go to sleep anyway. So the bar owner let the other man be, partly because he still feels bad about the man being slapped across the face and also because Jimin's soft chattering provides just the right amount of background noise for him as he types away on his laptop.

Jimin had been quite excited about his date. He retold their conversations, how the food tasted, what Jaebum looked like and how they ended the night. Namjoon continued to listen, his eyes still glued onto the screen in front of him. He nodded and made small sounds of acknowledgement to let the other man know he's still listening, and while he may not have been a very good conversation partner, Jimin didn't seem to mind. He looks happy about the idea of going on a second date, and that left a strange, bitter taste in the bar owner's tongue. He should be happy that his protege is doing so well, right? Afterall, this is exactly what Jimin wanted.

For a minute, he wonders if he should warn Jimin about the man, but he decides against it. It doesn't seem like his place to be a mother about a relationship between two grown men, and for all he knows, the guy might end up being a decent partner for someone like Jimin. So he only listens, until the chattering turns into murmurs and yawns. And then silence.

Namjoon's fingers stop. They now hover over the keyboard, uncertain of where to land next. His eyes continue to linger on the way Jimin lets little puffs of air escape his pouty lips as he sleeps. The way his lashes cast a small shadow over his round cheeks. Namjoon can't remember the last time someone other than Jimin had fallen asleep around him. He had always made sure that no one sticks around, and people were never quite relaxed around him. He and his staff members were close, but it's not like they were going to sleep in his apartment, and Yoongi always crawled up in some random hole to sleep in, so he never quite witnessed him asleep. All the flings he had been with had been so tense. Wanting to please him. Wanting to look their best. They wanted to be perfect for him. Coy. Sultry. Desirable.

But Jimin. Park Jimin was always falling asleep around him, seemingly completely oblivious to his presence, and the bar owner isn't sure if he should feel glad or a little bit insulted. He figures that his presence must have some sort of a comforting effect on the otherwise slightly nervous and antsy man, but at the same time, why was it that Jimin didn't see him in the same light as everyone else did? People didn't feel comfortable around him. They were in awe with him. Flustered, mesmerized, captivated and even slightly feared, but Jimin...he was something else altogether.

Namjoon slowly gets off his chair and lets his long legs carry him to the small couch where Jimin makes a little garbled noise before falling back to snoring softly. The swelling seems to have gone down slightly, but the color was becoming nastier, and the taller man can't help but reach out and brush his fingers against the angry patch of skin. Jimin's brows furrow slightly at the contact and Namjoon immediately retracts his hand.

He sits by the flood besides the furniture. He doesn't want to be a creep, he really doesn't, but a more twisted part of him convinces him that it's not like he's stalking or hurting the other man. He's just concerned about the bruise, because he's behind it. So Namjoon raises his hand again and experimentally runs his fingers across the bruise again, and this time Jimin remains still. His fingers continued to move, trailing around the bruise and down to the man's chin and stopping right before reaching his pouty lips.

"What the fuck am I doing..." Namjoon mutters before quickly getting off the floor and dusting off his trousers. This is ridiculous, he thinks. He has so much work to do and shouldn't be wasting his time being a damn creep. He's just distracted by the bruise, that's all, and that's good, because that means he's a decent human being who is capable of feeling guilt.

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