𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚... 𝑰 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 :: 16

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"Okay, it looks like that's the last piece of garbage," Jungkook said as he shoved a crumpled up solo cup into his garbage bag, surveying the kitchen.

Jimin sighed softly as he heaved over his own filled bag, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand exhaustedly. He caught Jungkook's longing gaze in the process, causing a blush to spread along his cheeks as he looked back down to the ground in a panic.

"Somebody's shy," Jungkook mused with a soft smile as he watched a small scowl overcast Jimin's sweet face.

"I was going to thank you for convincing my mom to let me take a shower but I changed my mind," he muttered sourly as he tied his bag up, kicking it softly.

Jungkook sniffed. "How old are you exactly?"

Jimin stuck his tongue out.

The brunette chuckled as he tied up his garbage bag. "Give me your bag and I'll talk them out to the back for you. How does that sound?" he suggested.

A coherent pout molded Jimin's lips. He peered up at Jungkook through his lashes, nodding in but a whisper.

Jungkook chuckled, walking over to Jimin to reach for his filled garbage bag. He gripped it in his hand. He then stared at the ravenette, noting how he was standing quite stubbornly with his arms crossed.

"What did I say, Jimin? You're gonna give me no choice but to eat you up if you keep acting the way you do," Jungkook warned with a sniff, catching the visible pink blush that crept onto Jimin's cheeks.

"You're going to do what to my son, exactly?"

Both boys turned around, Mister Park standing in front of the back door with his older visage drawn in curiously. He entered so quietly that niether Jimin nor Jungkook noticed his provocative presence.

"Nothing, Mister Park. Just taking the garbage out," Jungkook explained simply with a falsified smile. He walked to his own bag of garbage, picking it up in his empty hand before he walked past Jimin's father to reach the backyard.

Once both son and father were alone, Jimin suddenly felt frightened by the possible outcomes. They rarely saw each other anymore, and he was beginning to wonder if he even recognized his father. Working was one thing, but that fact that he seemed to dissapear for longer moments at a time brewed something of question within Jimin's stomach. It never made him have a good feeling.

Mister Park's heavy scowl bore into Jimin's fear-stricken eyes, the ravenette oscillating with apprehension. God, he couldn't even look his father in the eyes without feeling like he was going to burst into flames due to the pressure being locked on his trembling body.

"Do you like boys, Jimin?"

Jimin looked up at his father quickly, eyes bursting rather comically as he gawked at him. "N-no! No way. I don't like boys. What would make you think that?" he argued adamantly, face falling to his shifting feet. And then without notice, his father's polished dress shoes came into view and his jaw had been tugged upward, causing their attentions to level.

"I never see any girls around, Jimin. It's always been the same brown haired boy. It seems like he's always over. What happened to seeing his family just being a one time thing, huh?" Mister Park piled on accusation after accusation, causing Jimin to tremble. He's always been such a good boy. Never questioned by his father, and especially by such a high rate of severity. The ravenette supposed his father wouldn't be too happy seeing as Miss Park and Mister Jeon seemed to hit it off.

"Answer me!"

"Stop!" Jimin yelled, tugging his father's hand off of his face. "What would you know? You're never home! Ever! And then the one time you feel like being a dad just so happens to be the one time you're tearing me apart! Or should I even call you that? You know, mom could do so much better--"

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