Last chapter got over 20 votes and over 50 comments even through all the WP glitches this week, so here's a lil early update for y'all again! Thank you for the continued support on this. I'm shocked it's getting any reads, considering I never promoted it and just randomly dropped it on a weekday of all days lol. So, thank y'all for being here!

Today's dedication goes to pinknabi39! You've been reading my work for a long time now, and I wanted to say a big thank you for always being here and supporting my books! I appreciate you reading this new work of mine, and I hope you have a nice week :D

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Jimin

"Will you... just... ugh!"

Jimin huffed and puffed in the parking garage, listening to the distant chatter from outside. Weed, gas, and sewage infected his flaring nostrils as he grunted and did his best to pry the door open.

Stupid car door. Stupid Porsche.

Another thing to add to the hate list: cars.

For the longest time, Jimin hated cars. He hated stupid NASCAR, stupid F1 (although the drivers were kinda fine), and stupid motorsports. Anything that involved an engine had his dick shriveling up inside itself.

Yet there he stood, in front of the black Porsche with tinted windows.

"I hate my life," Jimin mumbled. He sighed and pulled and pulled on the car door in the parking garage. It was one of countless garages in New York City. Wide and concrete with an echo every time someone took a step.

Which was often.

Another thing Jimin hated: loud noises.

Unless those "loud noises" were moans or party music. In that case, hell yeah.

It was nightfall and right after Jimin had done his daily "annoy the shit out of Jeon Jungkook" routine. His stomach growled. Dammit. He had been too intoxicated on the idea of annoying Jungkook that he hadn't eaten. Not that he'd eat at Bibble & Sip anyway. Competition. His pastries were better.

Oh, who was he kidding. His everything was better.

Jimin glanced around, put his hands on his hip, and tapped his foot. There were distant footsteps, but nothing worth noting. So, he peeked around and found a rock on the ground. He picked it up and narrowed his eyes at the window, wondering how much force it'd take to crack it open.

The footsteps grew closer, and Jimin huffed and realized he had to hurry. He gripped the rock, feeling the creases dig into his palm, and then, he raised his arm in time for a shout and a hand on his elbow.

The rock fell, and Jimin found himself pressed against the hood of the car with strong hands on his wrists. He heard the dangle of handcuffs and warm breath from the taller man behind him (he assumed it was a man, anyway, based on the grip and wide form).

"Woah woah woah," Jimin said in a stutter, his neck hot and the tips of his ears probably turning pink. "Cool it, bro."

"Don't call me 'bro,'" Jungkook's voice replied, and Jimin groaned.

"You followed me, didn't you?"

"Yep. Caught you."

"Did you?"

Jimin craned his neck and saw the first smile he ever witnessed from Jungkook.

"Yep," Jungkook repeated, grabbing his handcuffs. "You're under arrest."

Jimin scowled. "For what?"

Jungkook widened his eyes. "You serious? For attempting a grand theft auto."

"On my own car?"

Jungkook didn't say anything for a long moment, and Jimin smirked as he wiggled out of Jungkook's grip. Jungkook, much to Jimin's surprise, didn't bother grabbing him back.

"A baker has a... Porsche?" Jungkook asked in a mutter.

"Dude, I charge like ten bucks a cookie. I should have a Bugatti by now."

Jimin rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that day. Yes, he was telling the truth. The Porsche was, in fact, his. He hated cars, but he also hated looking bad, therefore he bought a Porsche. A black one to match his favorite suits.

"I left my keys in the car by accident," Jimin continued with a whistle, circling the car and leaning against the hood with a grin. "Go ahead, run my license and registration, Officer." Jimin fished his wallet out from his blazer's pocket and handed his ID over to Officer Jeon. "I'm sure you'll find the results align with my words."

Jungkook snatched the ID. "I hate you."

"Oh, you flatter me, Jeon."

"Yeah, whatever, don't cream your pants," Jungkook muttered as he stalked off with the ID.

Jimin giggled. "Already did, pretty boy."

Jungkook didn't respond, not that Jimin expected him to. Jimin called whatever service would get there the fastest. An hour later, Jungkook didn't arrest him, and Jimin had his car door unlocked. He scooped up his keys from the front seat and dangled them in front of Jungkook.

"Happy now?"

"Not until you're in cuffs."

"Oh, sweetie, I've been there before." Jimin plopped inside his Porsche and started the engine, popping his dashboard to grab his registration and toss it at Jungkook.

It smelled far better in his confined yet comfortable space. The seats melted under his weight, and he sighed and almost closed his eyes from the feeling of his muscles relaxing into the cushions. It smelled like peaches, just like his cologne, which contrasted the sewage of the City. Yes, the sewage made its way into the garages. It was everywhere. Except certain shops. Like bookstores. The local bookstores did their best to hide the foul stench.

"I don't need these," Jungkook said, picking the papers up and handing them over. "You've proven your... innocence. For now."

"Jeon, I'm anything but innocent." Jimin winked. Or, tried to, anyway. He wasn't much good at it. Then, he shoved the papers back where they belonged and batted his eyelashes at Officer Jeon. "I'm flattered I have all your attention, Officer, but don't you think you're doing this wrong?"

Jungkook scrunched up his slim, bunny-like nose, the corners of his eyes going with it. His dark hair was neat and looked like he gelled it every day due to how not a single hair dared to move out of place, and even as he bundled up his expression, no hairs moved. His scrunched face gave Jimin a chance to see the mole hiding under his thin lower lip, but it disappeared a moment later.

"What do you mean?"

"Well..."

Jimin trailed off and nibbled on his plump lower lip. Should he...? Well, fuck, what did he have to lose? Why not!

"Don't you think we should be friends?"

Jungkook snorted. Then, his face fell. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Yeah! You're not gonna catch me if you're following me to my own car. But maybe you'll catch me slipping if we go to a bar together. Or if you come to my house and I miss something I should have cleaned up. Isn't that a better strategy than stalking my social media and following me?"

Jungkook paled. "How do you know I..."

"Dude, TikTok shows me who views my profile." Jimin snorted and looked at his pretty nails. They were unpainted but trimmed and round-shaped. "What the hell is that username? LetJungCook? Really?"

Jungkook averted his eyes. "Shut up."

Jimin beamed and watched a tint of pink creep up Jungkook's neck. First time for everything, huh? Never in his life did Jimin imagine he'd see a police officer so... pink. Ha. What a loser.

"Yeah, yeah, but come on, what do you think? Friends?" Jimin offered Jungkook his hand, and the man didn't move. Jimin grunted. "I'll give you my number. Don't you want a pretty thing's number?" Jimin batted his eyelashes at Jungkook... again.

"I don't see Madison Beer here."

Jimin recoiled and scoffed. "Oh, wow. That was perhaps the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me. How dare you bring up other pretty things while the prettiest of things is in your presence." Jimin cleared his throat and forced a smile as he offered his hand once more. "Okay, let's try that again: friends?"

Jungkook stared at the hand. Half of Jimin didn't expect Jungkook to take it. They were "enemies," after all. One-sided enemies. Jimin could care less what Jungkook thought of him. What mattered was Jimin had a successful business and plenty of fans who giggled whenever he so much as breathed. Or dyed his hair.

Bitches went crazy for him in blonde.

However, his rapid thoughts were interrupted by a gloved hand sliding in his. Jimin stiffened, eyes bulging when he spotted Jungkook actually shaking his hand. The touch was far softer than Jimin imagined. Delicate, even. It silenced every little peep inside his mind. It was the first time in what felt like years Jimin's mind ever shut up.

Jungkook released him and met Jimin's eyes, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Jimin forgot about the stench of the sewage, the echoing footsteps and distant chatter, and the cushion comforting his fat ass. Instead, he focused on Jungkook's soap-like smell; Dove, maybe. A classless brand. A man as fine as Jungkook deserved a soap carved by the gods themselves. Yet, he smelled like a basic clean scent. And when he spoke, his low, smooth voice drowned out everything else.

"Okay. Let's be friends."

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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

This won't be a very long story, just a cute, fun narrative I wanted to share, so I hope y'all stick around for this short but sweet journey.