breathin' | jikook

Shackles

Here's the thing about metal rods right. If they're shiny and polished, regardless of how much of a germophobe you are, you're gonna wanna touch them. Which is probably why Jimin’s fingers are curled around the iron bars, the atmosphere at the jail cell too grave for his liking.

He decides it’s time for some mood lifting.

He smiles, an expression constructed so deceivingly well that it’d remind you of females in a whorehouse. Clearing his throat and making sure his voice is laced in honey, he opens his mouth.

“So officer, you don't have any plans tonight? Spending a Friday night in this boring-ass place doesn't suit you.”

A police officer stands up, hands on his hips which accentuates his beer belly. The fat policeman gives Jimin a dirty look.

“Sheesh, stop lookin’ at me like that. I wasn't talking to you. My target is that hottie in the chair.”

Tilting his chin, he points in the direction where the main desk is situated.

“This rascal! You have no shame. Lemme remind ya who's in charge here.”, the policeman growls.

“Don't entertain the convict, Mr Pharrells. You're taking the bait. He's obviously looking for an escape he won't get.", sharp eyes settle over Jimin from behind the desk for the briefest seconds.

The officer that Jimin’s apparently interested in gets back to his work. Which is looking at papers, big piles of them scattered all over the main table. FIR’s filed for this week, Jimin guesses.

Jimin can't fully see him, with the desk covering the lower half of the officers body, but even then he can’t deny that this guy is incredibly hot. He thinks about the moment when the young officer had handcuffed him, bending him over the hood of his car.

He had been spray painting on the walls outside of a grocery store. When he had gotten bored, he decided he would spray some of the street dogs too. Make them look pretty and cool. The policeman had found him soon after, holding a wailing dog down as he sprayed ‘W-O-O-F’ on its butt in bold red color.

Caught red-handed, quite literally so. He thinks he might laugh about it later, when he gets out.

“Oh officer, don’t be so mean. I’m just spicing things up.” Jimin winks, making sure the policeman caught it as he considers him coldly.

"Jungkook, if you don't shut him up, I will.", Mr Pharrells says, glaring at Jimin from where he stood in front of his smaller desk, that was messier than Jimin's closet. Which says a lot, considering Jimin hates cleaning.

"Jungkook.", Jimin says, testing the word out, his lips forming the two syllables in a slow drawl. "Makes sense. A pretty name for a pretty face." He smiles to himself.

There's a squeak heard in the otherwise quite police station, Jimin glancing up to see the policeman, Jungkook, strolling towards his cell.

A wolfish grin makes its way to Jimin's face. "Can't resist me afterall can yo-", his remark is cut short as Jungkook opens the cell door in a matter of seconds and grabs his arm that was gripping the metal rods, pulling him out roughly. Surprisingly, Jimin is pliant against his shoves, the grin still on his face.

He thinks Jungkook might feel gulity for being so forceful, seeing as Jimin's frame is pretty small and he certainly looks like a fragile little boy. But he puts that thought aside as the officer makes him sit on his chair. Yes, his chair and cuffs his one hand on the chairs right armrest. Jimin's eyes widen in surprise.

Jungkook places a fresh pile of white papers in front of him. Jimin looks at the pile on the desk and peers up at the officer, frowning. But the officer isn't looking at him. He was gesturing Mr Pharrells to get him something, the man rushing his hands into his desk drawer. When he finds what he's looking for, he throws it in Jungkook's direction who catches it with ease. He then puts the object on the table.