Carved Into You (#06)

Tags:

• DILF Yoongi AU
• Woodworker Yoongi
• College student Jimin
• Age gap
• Fluff, flirting, teasing
• Jimin has a huge crush on Yoongi
• Explicit sexual content
• Top Yoongi, Bottom Jimin

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Synopsis: Jimin is a 23-year-old college art student, and Yoongi is a 38-year-old woodworker running a small quaint shop in Seoul. Needless to say, as his boss, Jimin shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about Yoongi… right?

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Tags/Warnings for this chapter:

• Angst
• Insecurities
• There will be a short and vague 'glimpse' of Yoongi's past before he met Jimin

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                                                   vi.

Jimin has had a long day at the university, and he would have gone straight home to his apartment and blacked out on his bed if it weren’t for Yoongi’s promise of a delicious, home-cooked dinner at the elder’s place.

He’s two hours early, and if there’s a little skip in his step as he takes the usual route to the shop, then no one who knows him is there to judge him for it. Shit, Jimin really has it bad for his boss.

Once in front of the shop door which he entered hundreds of times before, Jimin looks at his reflection on the glass and tries to fix his hair as much as he can. Then, taking a deep breath, Jimin pushes the door open and hears the familiar chime of the bell hanging at the back of the door.

“Hyung?” Jimin calls out and is answered with silence.

He must be in the workroom, the senior thinks and walks down the aisle leading to the back of the shop where he and Yoongi do all of the woodwork. Descending the small flight of stairs, Jimin halts in his tracks when he notices that the door to the workroom is ajar as the sound of a hammer hitting wood echoes from the other side of the door.

Jimin motions to knock on the wooden door to announce his arrival but his hand stops halfway when he hears two voices floating in the air. “You really don’t want to?” an unfamiliar voice of a man says.

“I’m good,” says another — Yoongi. His boss has a visitor?

The hammering noises continue as Jimin’s feet stay rooted on the spot. This is wrong; he shouldn't eavesdrop on other people’s conversation. Deciding to come back a little bit later once Yoongi and his visitor have finished talking, Jimin turns around to walk away when he hears the stranger say, “It’ll be just like the old times.”

Jimin blinks.

“You’re here as a customer so I’m not kicking your ass out of my shop right now,” his boss counters.

A hearty laugh. “Still as grumpy as ever. God, I missed you. Canada’s too boring without you, my friend.”

Friend? Jimin mentally notes.

Yoongi huffs. “I’m not your friend.”

The guest whistles. “Chill, man. I’m just playing with you.”

Something in Jimin’s stomach churns unpleasantly and he’s turning back around before he can stop himself. “Hyung?” he calls as his fist hits the door, possibly a bit harder than he intended to. “Are you in there?”

The hammering sound stops, and the five seconds of silence that ensues makes Jimin shift on his feet a little uncomfortably. He hears a light creaking sound from the other side of the door as if a chair has scratched against the wooden floor, and then his boss’s deep voice hits his ears before Jimin could worry his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yes. Come in, Jimin-ah.”

Opening the door a little more awkwardly than he should, Jimin drops his gaze as he enters the room, walking toward the workbench where he knows Yoongi is currently at. When their gazes meet, a soft smile tugs at the corners of the senior’s lips. “Hi, hyung.”

“Hey.” The woodworker wipes the sweat under his chin, and Jimin tries not to chuckle at the faint smudge of sawdust his gloved hand left on his left cheek. “You’re two hours early.”

He hums. “Don’t have anything else to do at the university.”

Then, Jimin chances a glance in the visitor’s direction, giving the man a polite nod and a curt smile. “Hi.”

The man is wearing a navy blue cardigan with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and a pair of black trousers that clad his long legs crossed over the other as he leans against the edge of a wooden table — the wooden table where Yoongi had fucked Jimin’s brains out just two days ago.

“Hello,” the man greets him with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side which causes his neatly parted hair to sway a little at the motion. “And you must be…?”

“My assistant, Park Jimin.” Yoongi’s the one to answer. He nods in the visitor’s direction. “This is our client, Han Jay.”

Ah, Jimin notes. A client. Of course, he is.

“Heh,” Jay hums in amusement and folds his arms over his chest. “Didn’t know you hire assistants now, Min.”

The way the man calls Yoongi by his surname with oozing familiarity makes the back of Jimin’s neck itch unpleasantly.

“Yeah, well…” Yoongi proceeds to grab the metal ruler from the toolbox. “Jimin’s a good assistant, and he helps around here a lot.”

Jimin needed the money; it was the primary reason why he ended up here, and Yoongi knows that. He’s a broke-ass university student in his senior year who couldn’t buy himself a hundred-thousand won stool for his measly excuse of an art studio in his and Jungkook’s shared apartment.

Jimin tries not to think about it, especially when Yoongi had once chided him for it but the thought suddenly slips into his mind again — unprompted and unprovoked. Seeing his boss standing coolly behind his workbench, pencil and ruler in hand as he marks the plywood, makes Jimin think just how… large their gap is in terms of — of a lot of things. Not in age; Jimin doesn’t give two fucks about that. But in the way his boss handles things maturely, and how… stable his financial situation is as an adult.

Jimin could never compare to him, and he refuses to think that he’s lagging behind Yoongi in a lot of things. But he is, and Jimin is desperately trying to catch up fast. Perhaps, too fast that sometimes he feels himself falling over.

Another hum vibrates inside the man’s throat. “Well, I’m glad the kid’s a big help to you.”

Jimin’s eye twitches. He hates being called ‘kid’ by anyone.

Before Yoongi can form an answer, Jimin hears the sound of a bell chiming in response to a customer going into the shop. The woodworker places his tools down and takes the gloves off his hands. “Jay, I’ll call you when I’m done with your shelf. You don’t have to hang around here.”

Jay places a hand above his heart and makes a pained noise in between a gasp and a groan. “You’re hurting me, Yoongi. Didn’t you miss me?”

The joke ticks Jimin off.

Yoongi throws the gloves on top of the toolbox and gives the man a blank look. “No. The back door’s open if you wanna go through that way.” Then, he turns to look at Jimin and something in his expression softens. “You can wait for me upstairs, Jimin-ah. You don’t have to come with me; it’s your day off.”

Heat spreads across the senior’s face, and Jimin nods a little bit stiffly at his boss. “Okay. I—I’ll be upstairs, hyung.”

With a final nod, Yoongi walks out of the room with the door left ajar once again behind him.

Letting out a quiet breath, Jimin turns around to climb the stairs leading to the second floor of the shop where Yoongi’s apartment is located, but just when he’s about to take his first step, he hears Jay ask him, “How old are you, kid?”

The question completely halts Jimin in his tracks.

Turning to face the man, he says, “Sorry, but what is it to you?” Yeah. He can no longer keep the animosity to himself. Something’s fishy about this man.

Han Jay seems to sense the sudden change in the air, and the man licks his bottom lip as he stares Jimin down with his dark brown eyes. “I’m just wondering why Yoongi hired a part timer when he’s so serious about his craft. He hired a professional before, a graduate, but he ended up kicking her out because she couldn’t keep up with him. Yoongi was still too kind to her even though she dragged his entire schedule down and Yoongi got late three months beyond his deadline. Two of his clients were furious.” He scoffs. “Looking at you now from this close, I can see why he hired you.”

Jay slides his hands into his pockets and gives Jimin an annoyingly smug smirk. “There’s no harm in keeping a pretty face within your reach, right?”

The man’s words put a scowl on Jimin’s face. “What do you mean?”

Jimin knows what he means, and he also knows that this man, Han Jay, isn’t just a client. He’s not Yoongi’s past lover because the elder had mentioned before that he didn’t engage in any serious relationship at all. Just fleeting and casual ones which makes Jay his—

“Fuck buddy.” Jay smirks. “You’re Yoongi’s new fuck, yeah?”

A tight and unpleasant emotion coils inside Jimin’s gut, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down even though his fingers  are now curled into fists on his sides. He doesn’t like this guy one bit.

“I’m not his fuck,” Jimin spits out.

“Then who the hell are you?” Jay raises a challenging brow. “His ‘friend’? Don’t make me laugh.” A snort. “You look at Yoongi as if you wanted to fuck him. Well, maybe, you already did, didn’t you?”

Jimin presses his lips together as he feels anger seep into the crevices of his heart. “I’m dating Yoongi.”

…Is he?

Jay’s eyes bulge out of their sockets for a split second before a loud, disbelieving laugh tears the four corners of the workroom. “You and Yoongi, dating… You, a student…” The man shakes his head and plasters an amused smirk on his face. “Yoongi, that guy doesn’t do serious stuff. He’s a fucking coward.”

“Don’t call him that,” Jimin hisses at him.

“Yoongi is a grown-ass man who spent more than 30 years of his life alone. He’s satisfied being married to his craft and hitching up fucks from bars and clubs once in a while.” Jay’s eyes travel all over Jimin’s body. “You’re just another pretty face he’d fuck. Trust me, I know…” Standing properly on his feet, he tells Jimin, “Because I was the longest one he’d had.”

If Jimin weren’t as headstrong as he is, then he’s certain that something in him would have crumbled already upon hearing Jay’s words. He’s not a fool, and Jimin knows his worth. It’s just that sometimes, insecurity gets the best of him, and this moment right here is one of those times when Jimin wishes he hadn’t gone out of his apartment to start a crappy day.

“You don’t know Yoongi,” Jimin utters, frowning. “And you don’t know me. You don’t have the right to say these things about him.”

“I know him long enough to know.”

“Clearly, not long enough to understand,” Jimin counters and his response manages to shut the man up for a while.

Han Jay lets out a scoff before glancing at the silver watch around his wrist: a Rolex Datejust which probably costs more than Jimin’s university fees. “I have a company meeting in an hour so I’m gonna go and do, you know—” With pursed lips, Jay shrugs. “An actual adult job.”

Tucking his hands in his pockets, Jay regards Jimin for a second before saying, “I don’t know what you’re up to but I’d stop playing ‘house’ with Yoongi if I were you. You can fuck for all I care but you look like the type to catch messy feelings along the way. Playing with a knife is fun until it cuts your finger and makes you bleed.”

Jay flashes him a lopsided smirk. “It’s nice meeting you, kid. Tell Yoongi he’s welcome to the club anytime.”

And just like that, Jay disappears into the backdoor as a heavy, soul-crushing sensation lodges inside Jimin’s chest. He’s still far too behind Yoongi, far too small, and far too— everything. The end of the race is nowhere in sight, and Jimin is now starting to doubt if he’ll ever be able to catch up.

- To be continued