Dr. Min *Yoonmin*

Dr. Min: 4+2+2=8

This image lives in my mind rent free. These men are pure art.

Anyway, if you're reading this, I know it's a little short, but let me know you're here. A comment or a vote goes a long way. 

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Jeremiah Steele was the first to greet me as I was led by the host to our table. First, he held his hand out for me to shake, but withdrew on the account that it had been a while since we had last seen each other and had forgotten that I don't like to touch others. Changmin was next to smile at me, giving me a small wave. He didn't utter a word, leading me to assume that he pissed Mr. Steele off again.

I was then greeted by my best friend with a quick and trusting hug. Taehyung knew not to linger, even though I still allowed him to embrace me. Then Jungkook greeted me with a soft smile, it was apprehensive, like he didn't know if he should offer me physical affection as well. Perhaps I was digging too deeply into it, but I could tell he was treading lightly around me. People often did so when they learned of my condition, afraid that if they came too close, I would melt. They were correct in some fashion. Coming in contact with others drove me nuts, to say the least. I was the one to give everyone that impression, so I couldn't blame them for keeping their distance.

Just with that simple toxic thought, my chest constricted like my ribs were strangling my heart. To make matters worse, next to my place setting sat one fork, one knife, and one spoon. The sight of the odd number made me uncomfortable. The hostess eyed me with confusion when I asked for two more forks, another spoon and another knife. My hatred for odd numbers far surpassed my preference for multiples of four. 

Of course, I would not use all eight pieces of silverware, but I would use one fork, one knife and one spoon to bring myself back to four in the end. I used one of the spoons to fish out five of the ice cubes in my Lemonata, to rid my chest of the itching, and placed them on a napkin to slowly melt into the tablecloth. Then, I stacked the silverware with their respective pairs and proceeded to eye the menu as if I wasn't bound to get the same thing I ordered every single time. No, I just had to find somewhere to put my eyes or else I get fixated on the fact that I was majorly fifth-wheeling. That, and Tae and Jungkook were already eyeing each other like they were picturing the other man naked. The two were shameless, but I could not do anything but be happy for them, lest I begin to have bitchy thoughts. I was supposed to be making progress. 

" So, Jimin, it's been quite a while since I've seen you. How have you been?" Mr. Steele asked me in his famous deep voice. The man had been introduced to me at the club Jungkook attended. I had yet to hear Taehyung say anything about Black Swan, so I wasn't sure if he'd been yet. I wasn't even sure if Jungkook went there anymore, due to him being tied down now. 

Meeting Mr. Steele at that club had been my first introduction to a formal BDSM relationship. He and Changmin were inseparable, though it often seemed completely the opposite. Q liked to get into trouble. He and Mr. Steele had done a scene in front of the club that night, and it intrigued me. It was riveting, and I admired Jae for being able to expose himself like that to a room full of curious eyes. . . but what was even more riveting was that Jungkook somehow knew I would enjoy it. He could read people way too well. 

Either way, I was glad to have met Mr. Steele. He was a rather interesting man. At first glance, if he would have ordered me to kill someone, I just might have done it. Hell, I might have even let him run me over with a monster truck. Q was very lucky to have him as his master.

To answer Mr. Steele's question the best I could, I cleared my throat. How have I been? "Fine, I suppose. Just working. . . I've been thinking of getting back into some hobbies soon." I told him, confidently. Taehyung's ears perked up at the sound of that.