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Telepathy ☕ Chapter 1: A Series of (Un)fortunate Events

Synopsis: Having a one-night stand in a foreign country with a handsome stranger seems like the best way to end Jimin's vacation before accepting his new job offer. Unexpectedly, Jimin meets him again and learns that the man happens to be his boss and... soulmate?

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telepathy

(noun) the supposed communication of thoughts 

or ideas by means other than the known senses.



Chapter 1

A Series of (Un)fortunate Events


Jimin isn’t exactly sure how things ended up this way. Well, he is, actually. He approached the man with a very impure thought in his rotten mind, his courage spiked by alcohol as the booming bass, fake smoke, and strobe lights fill in the room.

The guy is Korean; he’s sure of that. He speaks to Jimin in Korean, looks and dresses up like Korean. What is a Korean guy doing all the way here in Paris?

Jimin is one to talk though. He practically splurged his resignation pay and a few months of savings just to fly over here to a foreign country and leave everything behind for a week. And now, on his last night in the City of Love — alone, a bit wasted, and very much aroused — it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun, right?

“You have a nice room,” Jimin mutters as the guy’s lips press to his neck, crowding him against the door the moment it closed behind him. They’re on the 41st floor of a five-star hotel just in front of the club that Jimin had been to. The guy must be a hotshot if he’s able to afford such expensive accommodation but that is the least of Jimin’s concerns at the moment. As they say, ‘Let the dick speak for himself.’

The man hums and slides his hands under Jimin’s shirt.

“Bed?”

Jimin hears another hum before the guy pulls back to kiss him on the mouth, licking the cherry gloss off Jimin’s plump lips. God, this Korean guy kisses good.

Soon, clothes are strewn all over the carpeted floor and Jimin finds himself pushed back against the softest and most comfortable mattress he’s ever touched in his life. “How do we do this?” the man asks.

Jimin blinks, his fizzled brain failing to catch the guy’s words for a second before everything clicks into place. “Ah, I prefer bottoming but I can switch.” Jimin raises a brow. “I mean, if you’re a bottom, too?”

The man snorts lightly and hovers over Jimin, looking down at him with dark mischief in his eyes. “Do I look like a bottom to you?”

Jimin tries not to moan at the guy’s low and raspy voice.

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t hurt to ask. You can be like Hulk but prefer to bottom.”

“Hulk.” The guy chuckles and captures his lips again. “Fair enough.”

Jimin has kissed a lot of guys before but there’s something inexplicably good about kissing the man. He can feel an itch at the back of his head, like a thought tugging at the back of his mind but is too vague to comprehend.

Jimin can barely feel the slight sting of pain as the man stretches him open, kissing him breathless until Jimin is hard and leaking. As the man rolls the condom down his shaft, Jimin takes a moment to openly stare at how long, thick, and veiny the guy’s cock is. His balls are hanging between his thighs, full and heavy, as he strokes himself a few more times before aligning the tip to Jimin’s hole.

Jimin bites his kiss-swollen lip when the head pushes past his rim. Fuck, will he be able to catch his flight tomorrow if he can’t walk?

“Oh, shit—” Jimin gasps.

“You good?” the man rasps as he plants one hand beside Jimin’s waist, the other stroking his thigh comfortingly. “I’m still halfway.”

“You’re big.” Jimin winces as the pressure inside him grows.

The man lets out a low chuckle. “Uh, thanks?”

Jimin huffs and hits the guy’s lower back with his left heel. “Size doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to use it,” he challenges. “Prove it to me.”

The man huffs out an amused sound before sliding completely into him. “You’re funny, aren’t you?” he says in a mocking tone, smirking when Jimin gasps and arches his back from the bed.

Stifling a moan, Jimin’s eyes slipped shut at the tremendous pressure inside him, pushing against his clenching walls until Jimin feels utterly full. “Fuck,” he breathes out. “Ngh…”

“You haven’t told me your name.” The guy begins to move slowly, keeping an intense gaze on Jimin’s expression under him.

“Does it matter?” Jimin rasps. They won’t see each other again anyway so why bother knowing each other’s names? They’re just both in for a fun night after all.

“No.” The guy leans down to brush his lips against Jimin’s jaw.

Yet… and yet…

It’s okay to let out everything tonight, right? The guy is a stranger — a handsome and fucking sexy stranger — and Jimin is in a foreign country where nobody knows him. It’s okay to do something reckless once in a while, yeah?

“Ji–min.” Jimin moans when the man begins picking up his pace. “Just Jimin.”

“Jimin,” the man whispers and snaps his hips sharply, eliciting a breathy moan out of Jimin’s throat. “Pretty name.”

Jimin preens at the praise.

“Hm? You like that?” The guy smirks at the deep blush on his cheeks. “You like being called ‘pretty’?”

“I do,” Jimin confesses and hooks his arms around the other’s neck, squeezing his hips with his thighs. “What’s your name?”

The man huffs out a heavy breath as he thrusts hard into Jimin. “Yoongi,” he rasps with a lopsided smile. “Just Yoongi.”

Jimin laughs. He can’t believe the gall of this guy.

It didn’t occur to Jimin that all the lights in the room are turned off until his head pushes past the edge of the bed, his whole body bucking with the force of the guy’s thrusts until he becomes a moaning mess under him.

With the curtains wide open and as the white and blue glows of the night pass through the huge glass windows, Jimin’s lashes flutter at the majestic night view of the Eiffel Tower from up here. Everything’s upside down but it’s beautiful nonetheless.

He can see their faint reflection on the glass, with Jimin’s legs wrapped around Yoongi’s hips as the man pants above him with brows furrowed, sweat gliding down his temples and neck, the muscles in his arms flexing with every thrust of his hips.

Damn, Jimin wants to get fucked against those glass windows—

“You’re gonna fall.”

Jimin gasps softly when Yoongi places a hand under his head to pull him up.

Instinctively, Jimin clings to him until the man pulls them back to the center of the bed, laying Jimin’s head on the mattress with a kind of gentleness that isn’t really a requisite for wild one-night stands.

“You’re a sweet guy, aren’t you?” Jimin jokes with a smile. “Your future partner will be lucky to have you.”

At that, Yoongi snorts lightly. “I’m not sure about that. I can be a handful at times.”

“Me either,” Jimin replies with a small giggle.

It’s not long before Jimin feels that familiar tightness in his gut. It coils inside him until the knots become too tight to hold back any longer. “A-Ah!” He comes with a loud moan against Yoongi’s lips, his thighs squeezing together as his whole body trembles with the force of his orgasm.

The guy comes not long after, groaning against Jimin’s neck as he continues to ride out his orgasm inside him.

It’s the best climax Jimin has had in a while, and the electrifying pleasure thrums under his skin in pleasant tingles. The next one brings Jimin to his hands and knees, moaning against the sheets with his thighs shaking until his arms give up under him.

He isn’t sure how or when it ended because the night seemed like it was fucking endless. He’s not complaining though. It’s the best lay he’s had in a long while, not even comparable to his ex and his small dick.

The morning light slips between Jimin’s lids as his lashes flutter open. He turns to look over his shoulder and sees the guy — Yoongi — sleeping behind him with one arm draped over his waist. Jimin lets out an amused breath. The guy looks like a sleeping little kitten, a lot different from the wild one who fucked him ‘til the edge of his life last night.

Carefully, Jimin extracts himself away from the man so as not to wake him up. Standing up from bed, Jimin winces at the pleasant burn on his backside and proceeds to collect his rumpled clothes from the carpet.

After buttoning up his pants and shrugging on his shirt, Jimin turns to look around for a piece of paper where he can write down a note for the sleeping guy. He’s not a jerk, okay? He won’t just leave without thanking him.

Patting around his pants, Jimin grins when he manages to fish out a folded receipt from his back pocket. He walks to the nightstand and grabs the pen from the holder.

Thanks for a fun night, little kitty ;)
— J

Jimin bites his bottom lip to suppress a smile. Yoongi will probably give him shit for calling him ‘little kitty.’ He seems like the type to get annoyed about it.

Jimin leaves the little note on the nightstand, securing it under a glass ashtray so the wind won’t misplace it or whatever. He won’t be seeing Yoongi anymore so might as well say a proper goodbye.

(...Hungry.)

Jimin’s footsteps halt on the carpeted floor. He looks over his shoulder to see if Yoongi woke up and spoke to him or something but the guy is still very much asleep under the covers.

God, just how tired is he? With a little shake of his head, Jimin turns around to walk out the door. He should probably grab something to eat at the airport because he’s fucking starving that he’s starting to hear things.

Jimin jolts behind a tall stack of papers planted on his desk just five minutes after he entered the office. "Read these, Mr. Park. Those are requests from our clients. I expect a sample poster of one of the projects by five in the afternoon," Mr. Kang, the department head, says.

"Yes, sir." Jimin gives him the widest smile until the strict, middle-aged man pushes the pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose and turns around without another word.

Wonderful. Barely five minutes into his new job and Jimin can already feel the hell he's signed up to.

"Jiminie!"

Jimin turns to look at the young man approaching him who's wearing a light blue shirt and a pair of dark trousers, his shaggy brown hair falling past his eyebrows and most likely a few days past cutting. "Taehyung," Jimin whines and pulls the guy to hug him.

"You've barely started and you're already complaining?" Taehyung snorts, patting his head as Jimin squishes his cheek against his best friend's tummy.

"I said but one 'Good morning' to my colleagues before Mr. Kang gave me a shitload of paperwork. Where's the justice in that?"

"To make you feel better—" Another man, younger than both of them, walks toward Jimin's cubicle holding a steaming instant ramyeon. "When I first started here, Mr. Kang made me do a report for the department heads' meeting." He blows at the cup. "D'you know how scared I was?"

"You pissed your pants," Taehyung teases with a smirk.

"Hey, I did not!" Jungkook huffs and probes the noodles inside the cup with wooden chopsticks. "But, yeah, that happened to me so don't feel so bad about it. That old man's like that with everyone."

Wincing, Jimin turns around to start sorting out the neat pile in front of him. "I miss Paris."

"I'm sure you do." Taehyung rests an arm on top of the divider. "You probably had a wonderful stay in the City of Love, you hoe."

Jimin lets out a snort. "I had a very fun night."

"Can we stop talking about dicks and assholes at eight in the morning?" Jungkook complains, chewing his noodles.

"The only asshole I can see here is you." Taehyung kicks Jungkook's leg with a frown.

"Hey!"

"You added another pack of spice to your ramyeon, did you?" Taehyung sticks out his tongue with a rough, disgusted sound. "Fucking spicy, Kook."

"Oops. Sorry." Jungkook chuckles.

Jimin remembered the first time Taehyung introduced Jungkook to him. They met at work two years ago and who would've thought that the doe-eyed handsome guy would happen to be Taehyung's soulmate? Just how rare is it to find your other half among 7 billion people in the world?

"Ugh, I hate this soulmate bond," Taehyung gruffs before snatching the water bottle on Jimin's desk.

"Hey—" Jimin begins to protest but Taehyung already tosses his head back to gulp down the drink.

Wiping excess water off his lips with the back of his hand, Taehyung points at Jungkook and declares, "I'm breaking up with you. You have a weird taste in food!"

"I don't. You just don't have any taste at all." Jungkook snorts. "As if breaking up will break our soulmate bond."

Taehyung lets out a heavy sigh — defeated. "Jimin, don't ever get a soulmate. It's annoying to share your tastebuds with another guy."

"Well..." Jungkook shrugs. "It's not a fun experience to taste your own cum through another guy's mouth."

"Jungkook!" Taehyung shouts.

"Shh!" one of their colleagues hushes them.

Jimin bites his lip to stifle a laugh when Taehyung and Jungkook bow to them with awkward smiles on their stupid faces. "Soulmates aren't candies, Tae," Jimin utters. "You don't 'get' them. You're blessed with them."

Taehyung hums. "Yeah, yeah, right." He waves a dismissive hand. "Destiny and all that bullshit."

"You think I'm bullshit?" Jungkook raises a brow.

At that, Taehyung makes an amused sound and pinches the younger's cheek. "Not bullshit. Just a little shit."

Jungkook grins.

Jimin doesn't know how it feels like to have a special ability or share one of his senses with someone. It must be a pain in the ass most of the time, and really, Jimin can do without it. He doesn't have to have a soulmate to be happy. He's doing just fine right now.

But there's a little part of him that has always envied Taehyung and Jungkook. They're soulmates, each other's half. They found each other in this vast and chaotic world. It's as if they were destined to meet, like magnetic poles pulling at each other no matter how far they are.

Jimin kind of... wants to have something like that. Something constant and solid in this world but without the burden of sharing the other half of his soul with someone. What if his soulmate breaks his heart? Forever and a broken heart don't sound too appealing to Jimin's list.

"We're gonna grab a cup of coffee, Jiminie." Taehyung tilts his head a little in inquiry. "Wanna come?"

"Sure." Jimin leaves the pile on his desk. "I'm not touching those papers without caffeine in my blood."

Taehyung chuckles and hooks an arm around Jimin's elbow, walking him out of the office with Jungkook trailing behind them. "The coffee shop on the ground floor is good," his best friend tells him. "A little expensive but good."

"Employees have a discount." Jungkook winks.

Riding the elevator down to the ground floor, Jimin says, "Ah, yeah. I saw it on the way to the office."

"I'm so glad you're here, Jiminie." Taehyung rests his head on his shoulder. "It's my dream to be workmates with my best friend."

"You should have resigned from your old company a lot earlier," Jungkook tells him with a small frown. "Especially with that asshole ex of yours lingering about."

"It's not that easy, Kook." The elevator doors open. "But yeah, I'm glad I'm finally here," Jimin adds with a smile.

The coffee shop on the ground floor is neat and cozy. Taehyung's right, the price is a little higher than the coffee shops across the street but the location is convenient and the coffee itself is tasty. "Want a cinnamon bun?" asks Taehyung.

"I'm good, thanks." Jimin takes a sip of his cold latte.

On their way out of the shop, Jimin notices the brigade of employees rushing towards the company entrance, lining up as if royalty will come and visit them or something.

"What's happening?" Jimin asks curiously.

"Oh, shit. It's today?" Jungkook looks down at his wristwatch.

"What is?"

"Director Min's arrival," Taehyung explains as they all walk to the crowd. "He was out of town for two months for a business trip."

Jimin hums and looks at the valet opening the door of a fucking black limousine parked outside the company. There are bodyguards dressed in black suits and wearing an earpiece, all of them bowing to the presence of the man going out of the vehicle.

The first thing that Jimin sees is a small guy. Well, not really. Probably as tall as him but still small for his standards. He's wearing a dark suit tailored perfectly for him, his black hair parted to the side and his pale face neatly shaved.

The moment the man steps on the polished, marble floor of the company, all the employees bow and greet him, "Welcome back, Director Min."

Jimin blinks twice before lowering his head. But unlike everyone else, Jimin keeps his eyes on the approaching man.

He looks... familiar.

"Yoongi!" A man dressed in a grey suit meets the director halfway. "Welcome back, little brother."

Director Min gives him a faint smile. "I won't say it's good to be back but I'm happy to see you, too, brother."

Yoon... gi?

Jimin frowns. Did he hear that right?

And when the director angles his face to the left, his features appearing more pronounced and clearer to Jimin's eyes, Jimin can't help a gasp of shock from coming out of his mouth. Those little, kitten-like eyes—

Jimin's poor coffee hits the hard floor.

"Oh my God!" The woman beside him exclaims when the splattered drink messes up her shoes.

Panic begins to rise in Jimin's system. Fuck, he's causing a scene—

"I-I'm sorry!" Jimin bows deeply to her before turning around to flee the crime scene.

"Jiminie!" Taehyung calls after him but his best friend could try to skin him alive and Jimin wouldn't go back there. No. Not with the director standing right fucking there. With Yoongi— the stranger he—

Oh, God.

First day at his new job and Jimin is already royally fucked.

"Okay, let me get this straight," Jungkook muses as he and Taehyung wait for Jimin to pack up his stuff. "You had a one-night stand with a guy in Paris."

"Yeah." Taehyung nods.

"And that guy happens to be none other than Director Min."

"Bull's eye." Another nod.

"And if Director Min is one of the bigshots in this company..." Jungkook snaps his fingers. "Then, it means—"

"Jiminie fucked his boss," Taehyung ends for him, and Jimin buries his face in his hands with a helpless groan.

"Can we— I don't know, not talk about this while at the office? Please? What if someone hears you?!" Jimin complains as he harshly zips up his sling bag.

"It's 8 PM, Jiminie. We're the only ones remaining on this floor," Jungkook tells him.

Walking out of the room, Jimin sighs and says, "I need to get wasted."

"Well, we can help you with that." Taehyung laughs and hooks an arm around Jimin's shoulders. "If you're gonna get your ass fired soon, might as well get fired with alcohol in your tummy."

"Jimin's not gonna get fired." Jungkook clicks the down button of the elevator. "We don't even know if Director Min still remembers him."

"It's only been a week, Kook," Jimin supplies. "Yoongi doesn't have a pea-sized brain."

"So you call him by his name, huh?" Taehyung teases with a knowing smirk.

"I mean Director Min." Jimin rolls his eyes. "But anyway, I hope the director had fucked his way all across Paris so he won't recognize someone inconspicuous like me."

"For someone inconspicuous like you, you can be pretty conspicuous when you're trying to flirt, Jiminie." Taehyung snorts.

"Yeah, you have the face and the ass. I won't be surprised if the director remembers you after all." Jungkook snickers.

Jimin lets out a frustrated sound and jabs his friends lightly on the side. "Uh! Just stop, okay? You're not helping! I'm freaking out here because I'm gonna fucking lose my job!"

The sound of the elevator door opening cuts off Taehyung and Jungkook's laughter.

And really, Jimin didn't know what gods he'd offended in his past life but there inside the elevator, standing with his hands in his pockets is none other than the man Jimin has been trying to avoid the entire day.

"Director Min!" Jungkook and Taehyung hastily bow to the man.

"No need for that," the director's companion says with a laugh. "You can ride down with us."

"No, Mr. Jung. It's okay!" Taehyung smiles politely. "We'll catch the next one."

Jimin keeps his face lowered and turned to the side, avoiding anything remotely close to eye contact with the director. And when he hears the elevator doors beginning to shut close again, Jimin's tensed shoulders sag in relief. Good, he won't get fired for another day—

Jimin hears his friends make a surprised noise and his gaze automatically lifts to the hand keeping the elevator doors apart, preventing them from closing until the doors pull apart again.

Jimin's wide eyes meet the director's dark and piercing ones.

Jimin hears his friends make a surprised noise and his gaze automatically lifts to the hand keeping the elevator doors apart, preventing them from closing until the doors pull apart again.

Jimin's wide eyes meet the director's dark and piercing ones.

"You."

Jimin's breath catches in his throat at the sound of that familiar deep and low voice.

"What's your name?"

Jimin gasps and bows deeply to the director. "Good evening, director! I-I'll take the stairs! Goodbye!" he stammers out before turning around to run away.

"What? Jim—hmmmm!"

"Have a good evening, director! Mr. Jung!" Taehyung fakes a wide smile as he hooks an arm around Jungkook's neck, covering his mouth with a firm hand before quickly dragging his soulmate away from the elevators.

Jimin managed to run down three flights of stairs before his friends found him. "Jiminie, stop! The director's gone!" Taehyung calls.

Catching his breath, Jimin halts and presses his back against the wall. "This is the fucking worst, Tae."

"Yeah, well, you just made it too obvious back there," Jungkook points out, earning him a pitiful groan from Jimin.

"I fucking hate my life!" Jimin whines as he wipes the beads of sweat off his forehead. "The universe hates me."

"It does." Taehyung elbows Jungkook's side. "Ow." The youngest winces, rubbing the sore spot on his ribs.

Sniffling, Jimin stands up properly and says, "Come on. I need a stronger liquor for this shame."

"That's the spirit!" Taehyung utters happily. "Don't let the director have the satisfaction of making your life miserable."

"Yeah, if life fucks you in the ass, fuck it twice over!" Jungkook guffaws.

Shaking his head at his stupid friends' advice, Jimin feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the three of them descend the stairs leading to the twentieth floor where they can catch another elevator ride. Hopefully, without a certain Director Min in it this time.

And apart from 'unknowingly' fucking his boss in a foreign city, Jimin had practically disrespected Director Min earlier when he ran away without answering the man's question. "Oh my God," he mutters with his eyes closed.

Jimin really needs to get shitfaced tonight.

“Ngh…” Jimin tosses his head back on the office chair, feeling a shitty headache pounding in his temples. With his eyes closed, Jimin presses the bridge of his nose with his fingers, the spot right between his eyes, and sighs. It’s a goddamn stupid idea to get shitfaced on a weekday.

“I’m dying.” Taehyung groans on his work desk.

“Water?” Jungkook offers a bottle of water to his boyfriend, wincing at the throbbing pain in his temple. When they woke up at the soulmates’ apartment this morning, all three of them had a very, very bad hangover and Jimin could swear that he could feel his entire brain pounding with a terrible headache. He was able to borrow clothes from Taehyung, although the sweatshirt is a bit too big for him.

A few people stared at them on the way to the company but Jimin couldn’t give two fucks about them, not when he was trying to nurse a shitty hangover that cost him a good night’s sleep and his dignity. Yeah, Jimin might have aggressively flirted with a random guy and vomited thrice at the bar’s toilet last night…

“You three.”

Jimin turns to look at a tall and handsome guy walking toward them with an amused quirk of his eyebrow.

“Jin,” Jungkook groans.

“What’s with that greeting, brat? Respect your elder,” Jin huffs at the youngest. “What kind of person drinks on a Tuesday night?”

“A stupid one,” Jimin replies. Honestly, it’s all the director’s fault.

Jin laughs. “It’s your second day at work, and you’re already causing troubles, Jimin. I like you.”

Jimin groans and glides a hand down his face. Getting caught in this mess is the last thing he’d ever wanted. “Getting shitfaced last night wasn’t really in my plans when I went to work yesterday, Mr. Kim,” he says, standing up from his seat. He should get something to drink to wash down the lingering alcohol in his gut.

“Just call me Jin. You’re these two idiots’ friend.” Jin smacks the back of Taehyung and Jungkook’s heads lightly.

“Ow!” the other two complain.

“Right, Jin.” Jimin smiles at him. Kim Seokjin is a good friend of Taehyung and Jungkook. The older guy has been working in the company longer than the three of them so it’s not a surprise if Jin already secured the position of assistant manager in the sales department. “I’ll get coffee downstairs.”

“Let me go with you.” Taehyung stands to his feet and kicks Jungkook’s leg gently. “Baby, do you want anything?”

“The same one you’re getting.”

Taehyung snorts. “I’m gonna buy one cup then,” he teases as he follows Jimin out of the office.

“Hey, I don’t wanna taste your spit! want my own coffee!” Jungkook calls after them, and Jimin hears his best friend laughing beside him.

“Does it get tiring?” asks Jimin.

“What, teasing my soulmate? Never.” Taehyung chortles.

“I mean– sharing your tastebuds.”

As they both ride the elevator down to the ground floor, Taehyung hums thoughtfully for a second before saying, “Not really. Sure, it can get annoying sometimes when I’m eating jajangmyeon while Kook’s devouring a pack of chocolate. But other than that, no.” He grins. “It’s pretty much amusing if I must say.”

“You mentioned before that your soulmate bond doesn’t always activate, right?”

“Yeah.”

Jimin slides his hands into his pockets, following his best friend out of the elevator. “Jungkook and I have to be three feet apart at most to have the bond take effect,” Taehyung explains to him.

‘Well, at least that’s a breather,’ Jimin thinks.

There’s no queue at the coffee shop so Jimin and Taehyung are able to place their orders without a hitch. “Thanks.” Jimin smiles at the barista and takes the receipt before walking to the claiming area.

“We have a company event next week,” Taehyung tells him.

“What event?”

“Sort of like a party. The president will be there too.”

Jimin hums. He’s curious about what the president looks like. A mere employee like him crawling at the bottom of the hierarchy rarely gets the chance to be in the same room as the big shots so it’ll be a great opportunity to see them. That is, apart from that person, of course. Jimin can do well without his presence, thank you very much.

“Speaking of the president…” Taehyung smirks. “His grandson is here.”

A crease appears between Jimin’s brows as his gaze turns in the direction of the man entering the shop with a horde of assistants trailing behind him. “Fuck!” Jimin spits out before spinning around quickly to hide his face. “What is he doing here?” he whispers to Taehyung beside him.

“It’s his family’s company; what do you mean?” Taehyung laughs, utterly enjoying Jimin’s misery.

“Take my coffee.” Jimin shoves the receipt to his friend. “I’ll go first.”

“But–“

Then, Jimin is already moving to the back of the room without sparing a glance at the director, unlike the other employees who all bowed and greeted him a good morning. A few pairs of eyes are looking at Jimin curiously, perhaps wondering why he’s hiding behind the pillar like an idiot in a fucking coffee shop at nine in the morning.

“Stupid!” Jimin mutters with a sigh. He should’ve gone to the coffee shop across the street instead.

With the director’s broad back turned to him, Jimin eyes the exit for a second before stealthily making his way to the glass door while the director’s busy ordering his drink. It’s one step away from freedom, and Jimin is almost relieved to see himself out of the coffee shop without any unnecessary confrontation between him and Director Min.

Almost.

“You there.”

Jimin’s hand freezes on the handle of the glass door. Maybe, the director’s calling one of his assistants and not Jimin–

“The one holding the door.”

Shit.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Jimin gulps and slowly turns around with his head hanging low. “Good morning, Director Min.”

“Come closer,” he hears the man say, and Jimin’s heart bangs against his ribs. He doesn’t want to!

Begrudgingly, Jimin steps closer to the man with his shoulders hunched and his face turned to the side. As his fingers fidget together, Jimin becomes completely aware of the director’s gaze on him, heavy and measuring. “You’re remarkably familiar,” Director Min utters, and Jimin almost runs away again right then and there.

“You must be mistaking me for someone else, Director.” Jimin chuckles nervously.

“Look at me.”

Jimin’s clasped hands tighten together. “Director, I–”

“The director asked you to look at him, sir,” one of the assistants tells him.

Pressing his lips together, Jimin slowly lifts his face to gaze at Director Min who’s already staring at him with dark, knowing eyes. Strangely, Jimin feels that familiar tug again in his chest, as if there’s an invisible rope pulling him towards the man like the first time they met in Paris. There’s an indescribable itch at the back of his mind, swirling with formless thoughts and words.

What the hell is that?

“What’s your name?” Director Min asks for the second time.

Jimin has an inkling that the director already knows who he is but the man still insists to hear it from Jimin’s own mouth. “I-I’m…” he stammers out. “My name is Ji—”

The director is waiting for him patiently with both hands tucked in his pockets. His stature is strikingly familiar, and Jimin’s mind can’t help but flash a memory of the man standing under the bright, colorful lights of the club, holding a glass of whiskey and humming to the tune of the blasting party music.

“I’m Ji—” Jimin swallows thickly. Here it goes. “Ji–Jungkook!” He forces a smile. “I’m Park Jungkook, sir.”

Director Min raises an eyebrow. “Jungkook,” he repeats the name.

“Yes, sir. Jungkook— my name. I mean, yes. That’s me. I’m Jungkook.” Oh my God. Did Jimin just lie through his teeth in front of his boss?

“Ah, there you are, sir.”

Jimin blinks and turns to look at the barista smiling at him. “Here’s your coffee,” the lady says, offering the drink to him. “One caramel macchiato for Mr. Park Jimin.”

Oh…

…Fuck.

“U-Uh…” Jimin takes the offered drink with a nervous chuckle, looking everywhere but at the director who’s blatantly staring at him. “T-Thanks?”

The lady blinks and gives Jimin an awkward smile before returning to her work.

“I, uh, should go now, sir.” Jimin bows deeply to Director Min. He must get out of here.

Maybe, the universe picked this moment to play games on him because before he could turn on his heels, Jimin hears a low voice saying, “Come to my office after your work hours.”

Jimin gasps and stares at the director with wide eyes, watching the man take his coffee from the counter.

“Oh, poor him,” one of the director’s assistants whispers.

“He’s gonna get fired, isn’t he?”

Jimin should be terrified. Actually, he is, but not over the prospect of getting fired but because of the mysterious smile tugging at the corners of Director Min’s mouth.

“I’ll see you later,” his boss utters as Jimin takes a whiff of the man’s perfume when he walked past him. “Mr. Jungkook.”

If Jimin had a mannerism of biting his fingernails whenever he’s nervous, then he’d probably have consumed all of his nails by now including the ones on his toes.

“Ah, Mr. Park!” the ever-so-gleeful secretary, Mr. Jung, greets him. “I’m glad you didn’t get lost on your way here.”

Jimin chuckles awkwardly as the man stands up from his seat and rounds his desk. “Almost, Mr. Jung.”

Mr. Jung hums and lifts a hand to cover the side of his mouth, leaning in to whisper, “The director’s kind of in a bad mood.”

“Oh.” Jimin blinks. Great. As if this day could get any worse.

“One of the board of directors challenged him earlier at the meeting. Director Min hates that old guy.” Mr. Jung smiles. “But don’t worry. The director seems to like you so you’ll get out of there alive.”

Jimin can’t help but laugh at that. “I don’t think so, Mr. Jung,” he answers, rubbing a hand on his neck. “I honestly think I’ll get fired after what I did.”

At the mention of Jimin’s embarrassing scene earlier that day, Mr. Jung cackles and pats him on the shoulder. “That was entertaining, Mr. Park. You’re a funny guy.”

Jimin wants to wrap himself up in a blanket and get tucked away in the closet until he disintegrates. God.

Then, the secretary knocks twice and opens the door with a smile. “Director, Mr. Park is here to see you.”

Jimin bites his bottom lip, feeling another bout of anxiety settling in his gut.

“Bring him in,” comes a deep voice from inside the office.

Mr. Jung looks at him and steps away from the doorway, giving Jimin an encouraging smile. Taking a deep breath, Jimin steps into the office with so much reluctance he probably needs someone to drag him inside.

When the door closes behind him, Jimin’s eyes briefly wander around the spacious office before landing on the man sitting behind a polished, mahogany desk. Jimin stands there awkwardly by the door, debating whether to run off again or wait for the man to finish whatever he’s doing.

“Are you planning to stand there all night?”

Jimin gasps softly and slowly walks toward the desk, ignoring the beautiful city view through the huge glass window behind the man. “G-Good evening, director. You wanted to see me?”

Director Min affixes his signature to the document before placing the paper on top of the stack on the right side of his desk. Putting the cap back on his fountain pen, the man leans back on his dark leather office chair and folds his arms over his chest.

The director is wearing his usual black suit, although the white undershirt is loose until the second button; it’s a lot different from the casual getup he wore at the club back in Paris.

“I do,” Director Min replies with a little smirk on his lips. “Mr. Jungkook.”

Jimin stifles a groan at that, and he immediately bows to his boss in apology. “I’m really, really sorry about that, sir. I was just— actually, I’m…”

When Jimin fails to come up with an excuse, the director huffs out an amused sound and says, “I have thousands of employees in this company.” He flicks his tongue over his lips. “Meaning I have thousands of ways to know who you are.”

A crease appears between Jimin’s eyebrows. “If you already knew who I was, then why did you—”

‘Keep asking me about my name?’ Those are the words Jimin would like to say but he cuts himself off as realization hits him. Judging from the small smile curving the corners of the director’s mouth, Jimin realizes that the man knew what he was doing, that he was completely aware of Jimin’s predicament.

Director Min was playing with him.

Jimin gulps and stands up properly, keeping his gaze fixed on the desk. “I apologize, director. If— if you want to fire me…” Jimin doesn’t want to get fired. The pay in this company is much better than his last one, and it wouldn’t help his career to get his CV messed up by something like this. Shit.

“Do you want me to fire you?”

“No!” Jimin’s head whips up at that and his sudden response makes the director’s brow raise. “I– what I mean to say, sir, is that—” He sighs. “Please don’t fire me.”

Director Min regards him for a moment, examining him under a scrutinizing gaze, and really, Jimin is starting to feel a little lightheaded at how fast his heart is beating.

“I won’t fire you,” Director Min tells him. Jimin’s eyes blow wide in shock.

“Sir, that’s—”

“But you have to repay me somehow.”

Jimin blinks. “Sir?”

Director Min stands up from his seat, sliding his hands into his pockets before rounding the office desk to stand in front of Jimin, leaning back against the edge of the table. “You ran away and lied to me, Mr. Park,” the man says as an embarrassed flush paints Jimin’s cheeks. “Is that how a good employee should act in front of his boss?”

Jimin’s lashes flutter. “N-No, sir.”

Director Min nods. “Let me ask you a question.”

Jimin lifts his gaze to the man, hating how his heart skips a little in his chest at the handsome features of the director. God, he shouldn’t be lusting over his boss like this!

The director tilts his head slightly to the side, narrowing his sharp eyes at Jimin. “Do you really think I’ll forget the face of the guy who called me ‘little kitty’?”

The younger gasps and curls his fingers tightly on his pants. “I– sir, that’s… I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t know who you were—”

“Even if you knew or not, you still managed to annoy me.” Director Min takes his hands out of his pockets and steps closer to Jimin. His mouth parts at the sheer closeness of his boss, suddenly remembering the way how Yoongi backed him up against the door of the man's hotel room that one fateful night in the City of Love. “Sir,” he breathes out when Director Min lifts his chin with his fingers.

“I thought I told you my name is Yoongi. Just Yoongi,” the man whispers as his eyes land on the younger’s lips. “Jimin.”

The way his own name rolls off the director’s tongue sends pleasant shivers down Jimin’s spine, causing his breath to hitch in his throat as his pulse quickens to a maddening pace. Yoongi’s breath warm breath is hitting his face, and Jimin feels himself getting hypnotized by the other’s stare.

(Fuck.)

The director freezes in front of him, suddenly flicking his gaze up to meet Jimin’s eyes. “Did you just…?”

(Oh my God. Fuck, fuck, fuck—)

Yoongi frowns and retrieves his hand, looking at Jimin as if the younger has grown two heads or something.

“Director?” Jimin asks, watching the man in confusion.

Yoongi takes a few steps away, placing his hands on his hips as he paces back and forth. Then, after a while, the director stops and turns to look in Jimin’s direction.

(Can you hear me?)

Jimin yelps and staggers back a step, both of his hands flying to cover his ears as the initial shock of the director’s voice ringing clearly inside his head makes his whole body stiffen up. “Oh my God,” he says, looking back at Yoongi with his eyes blown wide.

“I can’t believe this.” Yoongi laughs humorlessly as he rubs a hand down his face. “Of all the abilities I can share with someone, why does it have to be telepathy?”

“What?” Jimin flutters his lashes as the director’s words confuse him. “What do you mean?”

“I can hear your thoughts, Jimin,” Director Min tells him, sporting an unamused expression on his pale, handsome face. “And you can hear mine.”

Jimin blinks dumbly at his boss for full ten seconds, unable to form words as all of his thoughts leave him.

“But that’s—” Jimin shakes his head violently as if attempting to wake himself up from this terrible nightmare. God, please tell him he’s just dreaming.

“You’re not dreaming,” Yoongi tells him, making Jimin visibly flinch.

Director Min… heard his thoughts.

Jimin lets out an awkward laugh, saying, “Director, I’m sorry but that can’t be real. If we can hear each other’s thoughts then that would mean we’re… that we are…”

(Soulmates.)

Jimin freezes when Yoongi’s voice enters his mind naturally and unprompted like he’s hearing every word directly from the director’s mouth. “Oh my God,” he breathes out as the connection strangely tugs at Jimin’s chest once again.

So it is that. It explains that annoying itch at the back of Jimin’s head when he first met Yoongi, that strange tug between his ribs pulling him toward the man like a magnet.

Jimin has a soulmate, and they can both read each other’s minds.

But of all the bad lucks that can happen to him and out of all the seven billion people in the world, why does it have to be his boss?

After the shock settles down, Director Min licks his lips and says, “You’re going to have dinner with me tomorrow.”

Jimin’s mouth gapes. “Sorry?”

“That’s my condition for not firing you.”

The younger’s hands on his thighs curl tighter. Really, could this day be any worse for Jimin?

“What do you mean Director Min’s your soulmate?” Taehyung whispers to him over the table.

“I mean it as literally as I can.” Jimin looks around the cafeteria, cautious of prying eyes and gossipy ears. “We can hear each other’s thoughts.”

Jungkook snorts over his bowl of ramyeon. “This is gonna be so fucking entertaining.”

“You’re not listening to me! This is an emergency, people!” Jimin snaps his fingers at his friends. “How am I supposed to work at this company now?”

“You’re being dramatic, Chim.” Taehyung takes a sip of his pineapple juice. “So what if that hotshot is your soulmate? It doesn’t mean he has to be your boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “But he did ask you out on a date so...”

“It’s not a date,” Jimin clarifies with a heavy sigh. “The director just asked me to have dinner with him.”

“It’s a fucking date, you idiot,” Taehyung tells him with an eye roll. “I’ve wondered why that guy was so keen on tormenting you these past two days but now I’m pretty sure it's because he’s interested in you.”

Jungkook smirks as he snatches a piece of fishcake from Jimin’s plate. “Your booty hooked you up with a rich guy. Lucky you.”

“Okay, listen.” Jimin throws his hands up in exasperation as a blush spreads across his face. He has to make his friends understand. “For one: I’m not a gold digger. I get my stuff through honest work—”

Jungkook hums. “Well, fucking Director Min was honest work—”

“Two: Having a soulmate is a pain in the ass.”

“Well, if your soulmate is pounding you in the ass—”

“Jungkook, can you please shut up for one second?” Jimin snaps before taking a deep breath. “Okay, three: I’m not interested in him.”

“Now, that’s the biggest fat lie of the century, everyone.” Taehyung snorts. “Jiminie, you slept with him in Paris because you are attracted to him. I know your ass is very much interested to get that rich dick up your hole again.”

Jimin gapes in disbelief. “Oh my God, can you not put it that way? Besides, he’s not even that good in bed.”

“So you’re admitting that Director Min is indeed good in bed?” Taehyung asks with one eyebrow raised.

“Well, if we’re talking about modesty…” Jimin perches his thigh on top of the other. “He’s adequate.”

“Adequate,” Jungkook mocks him. “With that intimidating aura around him, I’m pretty sure the director destroyed your ass that night— ow!”

Jimin huffs as he not-so-gently kicks Jungkook’s leg under the table. “I’m going to make you eat that ramyeon through your asshole, dickhead.”

“Please don’t,” Taehyung groans. “That’ll be fucking disgusting to me.”

Jungkook lets out an affronted noise. “As if you haven’t eaten my asshole before—”

“Oh my God, Jeon Jungkook! Shut. Up.” Jimin stands up from his seat, collecting his bag. “I’ll go first. See you in the office, shitheads.”

“Bye, hoe.” Taehyung waves playfully at him, earning the guy a majestic eye roll from Jimin. He’s gonna have a fucking aneurysm because of his friends soon.

And for the love of God and all that is holy, Jimin, unfortunately, bumps into Mr. Jung on his way to the elevator. “Mr. Jung.” He fakes a smile. “Hi, good afternoon.”

“Hello, Mr. Park.” The secretary returns the friendly smile. “I was just on my way to your office.”

“Oh.”

“I was hoping to talk to you,” Mr. Jung tells him. “The director asked me to remind you about your dinner tonight.”

Oh, shit.

“A-Ah, yes.” Jimin chuckles awkwardly. “Actually, I’m feeling a little sick right now,” he says and feigns a cough into his fist. “Can you please tell the director that I might not be able to join him for dinner tonight?”

“I see.” Mr. Jung looks at him with a worried expression on his face. “I’m sure Director Min will understand. Don’t worry; I’ll let him know.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jung.” Jimin bows to the man, wincing at the feeling of guilt in his chest. Mr. Jung seems like a good guy, and Jimin feels bad for lying to him.

The rest of the day goes by without any unfortunate encounters with the director, and as the clock strikes six in the evening, Jimin lets out a tired sigh and stretches his arms over his head. He can’t wait to go home and have a nice warm bath.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung chirps beside him. “So, are you off now to that dinner with Director Min?”

“Nope.” Jimin ends the word with a loud pop of his lips, grinning at the confused expression on his best friend’s face. “I told Mr. Jung I’m sick.”

“You—what?” Taehyung snickers and smacks his shoulder. “You little devil!”

“And what if the director finds out you’re lying.” Jungkook emphasizes, “Again.”

“He won’t.” Jimin stands to his feet and starts collecting his stuff from his desk, shoving them into his bag. “He’s high up there, Kook.” Jimin points at the ceiling. “I doubt the director’s gonna go all the way down here to see an employee like me—”

A sudden commotion catches everyone’s attention, including Jimin who’s currently in the middle of taking the sticky notes off the edge of his computer monitor.

“Director Min,” Mr. Kang, the art department head says with a polite bow of his head.

Jimin freezes on his spot.

“Now, look who’s here.” Jungkook smirks and folds his arms together.

Jimin turns to look over his shoulder before quickly ducking under his desk with a loud gasp. His heart bangs against his ribs at the sight of Director Min standing there in their office for whatever fucking reason, looking so perfectly handsome in his dark suit and ridiculously expensive steel wristwatch.

“Oh my God, this is not happening,” Jimin tries to convince himself.

Taehyung nudges his thigh under the table with his shoe. “What the fuck are you doing there?”

“Shh!” Jimin hushes him. “Don’t tell the director I’m here.”

“But—”

Jimin doesn’t wait for his friend’s reply before crawling out from under his desk and creeping behind the cubicles on all fours until he reaches the bathroom. From where Jimin is, he can hear Yoongi’s low voice talking to Mr. Kang and for a second, he thought he’d be able to escape under the director’s nose when—

“Mr. Park?”

Mr. Kang’s voice stops Jimin’s movements.

“Where’s Mr. Park?”

Taehyung answers for him. “I don’t know, sir. Probably off crawling somewhere.”

Jimin closes his eyes and bites his bottom lip, wincing. He fucking hates Kim Taehyung.

“Mr. Park.” The director’s deep and commanding voice sends shivers down Jimin’s spine. The entire room falls silent after that, and really, Jimin wants the ground to split up and swallow him whole so he could be saved from this embarrassment.

Gulping, Jimin grabs a pen from his pocket and stands up to his feet, slowly turning around to meet the director’s inquisitive stare. “Good evening, director.” He chuckles nervously, pointing at the pen in his hand. “I was just looking for my pen. I thought I lost it.”

A loud snort comes from his right side, and Jimin has to stifle the urge to kick Jungkook and Taehyung in the balls when his friends move to hide their poorly suppressed chuckles and cover the amused smirks on their idiotic faces with their hands.

“Pen.” Director Min tongues the inside of his cheek.

Jimin swallows thickly. Yoongi isn’t buying his excuse.

Then, the director jerks his head to the door and says ‘Out’ before turning around to walk out of the office with Mr. Jung.

“Oh my God,” Jimin mutters to himself as he buries his face into his hands. All of his co-workers are looking at him with bewildered faces but Jimin couldn’t care to give two fucks about them, not when he’s wallowing in his own embarrassment and misery.

“I guess you’re going to that dinner date after all, Chim,” Taehyung teases with a light bump to Jimin’s hip as Jungkook cackles loudly behind him.

Telepathy ☕ Chapter 1: A Series of (Un)fortunate Events

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