Chapter Text
[Contact Name in Jungkook's phone: Yonsei Crush]
Hi, this is Jungkook from SNU, hope you remember me.
+82 2777 5624
Excuse me? Who gave you this number?
I’m the guy who fainted during the match.
I heard what you did for me, but I never got a chance to properly thank you.
Fainted? That’s cute.
Usually when people collapse in front of me, they don’t get back up.
So tell me, who gave you my number?
{sends a selca}
Don’t you remember me?
Oh.
Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing.
It was almost 10:30 p.m. when Jimin trudged home, exhausted from his shift. As he climbed the stairs to their shared apartment, he suddenly remembered the little prank he’d pulled on his roommate earlier.
Oh.
By now, Jungkook must’ve realized the number he gave out wasn’t actually Mingyu’s. Or maybe.... since he’d been radio silent all day, he hadn’t even tried texting it yet. Ah, that would be even better. Jimin grinned at the thought, already imagining Jungkook desperately trying to message his crush, frowning at his phone like it was the ultimate villain sabotaging his love story. If only he could’ve stayed to witness it, the frustration, the way Jungkook would’ve stared at the screen, waiting for a reply that would never come. Jimin would’ve been on the floor laughing. Too bad he had to cover Jungkook’s shift at the café instead; the kid had been sick the past few days.
But then, a thought stopped him in his tracks. What if that number belonged to someone? What if they actually replied? No way, Jimin shook his head, discarding that thought because if that had happened, Jungkook would have already called him, a string of curses ready on the tip of his tongue and a threat to murder him in his sleep. Still, Jimin pulled his backpack to the front like a makeshift shield. If that muscle bunny was pissed enough to throw hands, at least he'd have some sort of protection. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door to their dingy apartment, only to freeze at the sight before him.
Jungkook was sprawled out on their beat-up sofa (which doubled as his bed), his face buried in a pillow, kicking his feet. And was that… a squeal?! Jimin blinked. “Uh… Jungkook?” he asked, brows drawn together in pure confusion. What the hell happened while he was gone?
At that, Jungkook perked up. “Jiminaaahh” he squealed, practically launching himself at the blonde and lifting him off the ground in one swift motion. “He thinks I’m pretty!” he giggled, spinning them both slightly before finally setting Jimin down.
“Hold on—who exactly are we talking about?” Jimin was beyond confused now.
“Mingyu!” Jungkook grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. If he had a tail, it would be wagging at full speed right now. Still buzzing with excitement that weighed down on Jimin like a massive rock of regrets, the younger grabbed his phone and held it out for him to see.
“I spent, like, two hours just staring at the call button, wondering if it'll be okay to call him. Then I decided it would be much better to text instead,” he explained. Jimin quickly took the phone, skimming through the chat. As he read, a frown slowly crept onto his face.
"What does he mean by this?" He asked, pointing at one of the messages that felt sus.
Fainted? That’s cute.
Usually when people collapse in front of me, they don’t get back up.
So tell me, who gave you my number?
"Don't you think this is a little weird?" As much as he knew the number was fake, he didn't have the heart to tell it to Jungkook, especially not now, when the younger was practically jumping like a happy little puppy. His best friend had a tendency to build walls around him, rightfully so, as Jimin had never met anyone as kind as him, and people tend to take advantage of that.
Jungkook, oblivious to his internal turmoil, scratched the back of his neck, suddenly shy, "Uh, I don't know? Maybe he was just trynna act cool or something?" Instead, he pointed at the next message, "I still can't believe he called me pretty."
"Anyone with eyes would agree that you're beautiful, Jungkook-ah." Jimin smiled awkwardly as he moved two paces back. This can't go on, the messages looked suspicious, and he didn't want this silly little prank to turn into some creepy, unwanted situation that might land them in trouble. "Ok, I, um, hate to break your bubble, but that's a fake number Gguk."
He held his hands up in surrender, watching with growing guilt as the huge smile faded from Jungkook's face, and boy, did he regret this prank. "April fool's.... remember? He tried weakly. At that, Jungkook's eyes went impossibly wide.
"W-what?" He scrambled for his phone, then, "wait - WAIT- Does that mean I sent a picture to a complete stranger???" He roughly shoved Jimin back on the sofa, "You little shit, what do I do now!??"
"Just tell the truth and block him," Jimin suggested as he pulled Jungkook down next to him.
Jungkook clutched his hair, "This ain't a harmless prank, Jimin, I'm gonna make you pay for sure," letting out a scream of frustration as he sent an apology. But before he could even sigh in relief, his phone dinged with another message.
"Private number? What does he mean?" Jungkook turned to him, "What the fuck, Jimin?"
As scary as that reply was, Jimin tried to stay calm, "They're probably trying to mess with you. Just apologize and block." Now, he was nervous too as he watched Jungkook quickly type out another response.
This time, too, the reply was instant as if the stranger had been waiting on the other end. But when Jungkook saw the next messages, his stomach dropped and a chill ran down his spine. Meanwhile, Jimin peeked over his shoulder to read.
Jimin, although equally freaked out, was doing his best to stay calm and quickly snatched the phone from his hands. "Yeah, that's it. We're not dealing with this shit." Without hesitation, he blocked the number and tossed the phone behind them.
"What the hell do we do now?" Jungkook's voice was borderline frantic.
"Oh, come on, Gguk, chill." Jimin tried his best to sound nonchalant, "It's probably just some wannabe tough guy or a drunk dude messing with you," But Jungkook didn’t look convinced. His eyes were glazed over, clearly spiraling through every possible worst-case scenario. "Do you really think someone's gonna be that bothered over a wrong text? People have wayyyyy bigger problems to deal with. Sleep on it."
Jungkook, still tense, narrowed his eyes. Then, before Jimin could react, he lunged, tackling the screaming blonde straight on the hard floor. "YOU almost got me into serious trouble, you freaakin Slytherin!" Jungkook huffed, now sitting on Jimin's back, holding his arms behind in a lock.
Jimin squirmed under his weight, "Oh, come on! No blood, no foul - OW." He yelped again as Jungkook twisted his arm harder. "Okay, fine. I messed up. This week's meals are on me, I promise!"
Jungkook didn't budge, though, causing the latter to groan, "Dude, I covered your shifts for two days straight. You should be grateful, you little brat."
Jungkook scoffed, finally letting go, though the deep frown on his face made it clear he wasn't letting this slide easily.
"Alright, Moody, cheer up!" Jimin stretched before fetching two bottles of soju and waving them in his face, "We're getting paid tomorrow, so let's celebrate."
Jungkook grumbled but grabbed the bottle anyway, "You're still paying for the meals."
Jimin just smirked, "Yeah, yeah. Drink up!"
Little did they know, blocking that number wasn't going to be the end of it.
-----------------------------------------
Far away across the city, in one of Seoul's tallest skyscrapers, Kim Taehyung scoffed at the new notification.
The user has blocked you.
The audacity. Seated comfortably in his leather chair, he leaned back, fingers tightening around his phone. Whether this was some shitty prank or something more, he HAD to find out. No one, absolutely NO ONE outside his inner circle had this number. He stared at the texts. A mistake? Maybe. But the kid had made a bigger mistake by thinking he could just block the Kim heir.
Even though the photo had been deleted, it burned in his mind. The long, messy hair, those pretty eyes, soft yet striking features, and the fact that the boy had been lying on a bed with that damn lip piercing. Taehyung couldn’t shake the image of how soft yet sinfully sexy he looked. He wondered how that piercing would feel in his mouth... or wrapped around his...
“Ugh.” He sat up straighter, dragging a hand over his face as the heat shot through him, his pants now becoming uncomfortably snug. He clicked his tongue. Yeah, it had clearly been way too long since he’d gotten laid. A knock on the door snapped him out of his increasingly spicy thoughts.
Min Yoongi stepped in, eyes a little sleepy, "Something's up?" Taehyung simply handed him the phone, watching Yoongi's brows lift as he read the texts.
"Is he an actual threat or just an idiot who got the wrong number?" Yoongi asked in that slight Daegu accent.
"That's what we need to figure out,"
Yoongi smirked as he saw the part where a picture had been deleted.
"Uh-huh. And by 'figure out' do you plan to scare the shit out of him or am I bringing you another fcktoy?"
Taehyung snatched his phone back, thinking. He could let it go, forget the whole fiasco, but where was the fun in that? His lips curled, "I wanna know everything about him, who he is, where he lives, his schedule, who he spends his time with." Locking eyes with Yoongi now, "I wanna know what kind of trouble just landed in my lap."
"Kid's ballsy, I'll give him that." Yoongi shook his head, chuckling slightly, "And of course, you're not letting this go easily," he snorted before walking out the door.
There was no such thing as coincidence in Kim Taehyung's world, not when he was slowly purging their gang. He walked towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city sprawling beneath him as he lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. "I'm gonna find you darling," he murmured under his breath.
"Soon"