Chapter 1| Minor

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"Sorry, sir. I don't sleep with clients." Jimin shook his head in frustration, wearing a conflicted look. His hair was disheveled, lips plump and red from the attention. He struggled within himself to simply walk away, no matter how desperate he was to get fucked. The man before him was very handsome.

Hot, actually.

His hair was black and spiked naturally, no product needed. He had a chiseled jawline as well, paired with a sharp nose that rounded softly at the tip. His eyes were a bright green, but dull at the same time. Surprisingly enough, also natural. He had a rough look about him, his defined muscles only adding to the effect.

Ugh.

He hated being a minor.

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"So you didn't sleep with him?" His mother asked from her spot at the kitchen counter, a spoonful of Nutella in one hand. Despite all Jimin's warnings, she refused to live a healthy lifestyle. In more ways than one, if he was being honest with himself.

"Of course I didn't." Jimin groaned, his mind pulling up an image of the man. It was his longest client, his first regular. He had better genes than any normal person should be allowed to have, being absolutely ethereal. He sighed under his mother's stare. "Yes, I wanted too." He admitted bitterly.

"Oh, Chim." She sighed in false disappointment, the spoon waving through the air. "Sometimes, you should just go with your gut. If something feels right, go for it!" She dramatically cried, laying back onto the counter she was already perched on. Jimin merely rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I'm not hiding, Eomma. It says directly in my contract not to sleep with clients. They'd fire me!" He groaned bitterly, scared of losing his job. He enjoyed it to much to throw it all away. "I can't risk everything I've worked for just because I can't control my stupid hormones." He argued further, convincing himself as much as his mother. She tilted her head as she took in his words.

"Eh, you got a good point, you little whore." She grinned, knowing how Jimin felt about the nickname. It was weirdly liberating and accurate, but not something he particularly enjoyed coming from her mouth.

"Something is seriously wrong with you." He rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time. She was so immature for her age that strangers thought they were related. Or worse; dating. He shuddered the thought away frantically before sighing. "You are still a child, I swear." He laughed quietly. Her eyes widened in feigned anger.

"Yah! No swearing in this house!" She yelled, smacking him on the forehead with her spoon. He could feel the warm substance and forced himself not to dry heave.

"Eew, oh God." He coughed, bringing a hand over his mouth. He saw as her lips twisted into an evil smirk, wanting to throw her spoon down the garbage disposal. "Your spit is all over me now." He whined, wiping at his forehead frantically.

"That's what you get for swearing." She snapped, folding her arms. He looked at her in disbelief, his jaw hanging open.

"I didn't even swear!" He gasped, exhausted by his mother's antics. Then again, this was nothing new. "I literally work at a BDSM club." He laughed dryly. "People pay for sex, pain, and my dancing. Yet, you have a problem with my language?" He scoffed, staring at her with a bewildered gaze. She simply shrugged.

"Aye, you got a good point again, Chim." She winked. "You're on a roll today, keep it up." She laughed quietly. "And, you should be grateful and stop complaining so much. I just don't like dirty language, deal with it." She stuck out her tongue, licking the remaining chocolate off the kitchen spoon to Jimin's absolute horror. But her words had sparked an idea in him, something his mother would hate.

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