Jimin's Whore • PJM

Thirty One

It took your uncle's security team ten minutes to find the first recording device in Jimin's apartment. A petit blue microphone with wires that curled around the lamp so out of the way and seamless in color that you'd have never seen it.

"How far do you think it can record voices?" Jimin was leaning against his dining room table, the same table you'd laid on just the previous night.

"At least the living room and dining room. Maybe as far as the kitchen if you were speaking clearly." The tech had a severe face, swiping his electric current wand over the back of the couch.

The second and third were found in the two bedrooms. The one in the spare room tangled in the sheer curtains on the bed post, once again so perfectly matched in color it blended like the finest foundation. The last in his bedroom flush against the back of the dresser, out of view unless you moved it forward and looked.

"What are the wires for? They aren't connected to anything." This whole spy gadget set up was confusing and beyond your comprehension.

"They allow Bluetooth connectivity, somewhere there's a box and it's recording everything." The three techs had spread out through the apartment, flipping cushions, moving furniture, tearing the place apart.

Half an hour later the small black device was found, slid beneath the rug in Jimin's closet so out of the way you were sure a foot had never come close to it. It was as long as your palm and less than half an inch thick. It also had long wires, about a foot of them snaking out from it.

"This is an expensive piece of equipment. It's data could be collected from your front door. They wouldn't even need to enter your apartment."

Satisfied that the place was clear they moved onto your apartment. Six devices this time, one in each room, not concealed as cleverly as Jimin's just in places you couldn't reach or see. You shivered wondering how long everything you'd said in these walls had been recorded. The recording box was in the floor register by the front door.

"This feels like a last minute job, like they didn't have time to place them where they could capture the most conversation. These devices are cheaper too, I would think the quality of recording would be much harder to hear, and they had to place the box right near the collection point." You wanted the tech's words to make you feel better but even at low quality it felt invasive to know someone had heard everything.

"Are you okay Angel?" Jimin had kept his distance, always staying in your sight, but allowing you to be separate from him.

Now he tentatively closed the distance watching as your brain rushed through all the conversations that had taken place in these walls and the ones below.

The security team had collected everything in a box and were taking it to try and figure out where it had last uploaded its contents. They didn't seem to think it was going to be easy, but they promised their best work.

"How do I know they don't belong to you?" You could hear the cold accusation in your tone. "Just another one of your kinks." You couldn't decide who or what to believe.

"If it belonged to me why would I need to conceal the recording box? I'd toss it in a drawer and review as necessary. If it belonged to me why stop at microphones? Wouldn't I have the right to put up cameras, wire anything I want? Not these tiny secretive contraptions? Why would they need to be hidden that well? Stick it under a bed and you'd be good to go, most guests don't check for recording devices."

"Then who did it?" You shouted at him, stepping forward to shove him backward. He grabbed your wrists and wrenched you against the wall of his body.

"Don't put your hands on me like that Y/N." Even though his tone was gentle you regretted it immediately and let your forehead press against his shoulder.