Chapter Text
Yoongi’s been working for Jimin as his personal bodyguard for a little over a year and, as stoic as the man is, it’s impossible to not know at least a little about him when they spend basically every hour of every day together.
Like how he liked his coffee, decaf iced americano because he gets jittery if he has caffeine, or even a weird interest, light fixtures of all things.
Of course Jimin noticed those things because he takes pride in knowing the people that work with him and it has nothing to do with the fact that the older man is so handsome it’s distracting and nearly impossible for Jimin to not follow him with his eyes anytime he’s in his vicinity. It has nothing to do with how kind the man is behind his stern face, Jimin once saw him buy food for the stray dogs that frequented the alley behind the company building. And of course it has nothing to do with the ease with which the man manages to calm him down when Jimin feels like he’s spiraling, with his low voice and soothing words.
It’s all professional interest of course.
So, Jimin can vaguely remember his manager saying something about the man being a former boxer when they had hired him, but that was before he actually met him and his recollection isn’t the best. Right now he is wishing that that little nugget of information would have stuck out to him a little more at the time.
“What do you mean Yoongi’s quitting?” He asks Hoseok, his manager, for the third time because the words don’t seem to compute inside his head.
Hoseok sighs and passes him his phone.
On the screen he can see a picture of himself earlier that week at the airport, he had just come home after the last leg of his world tour so that isn’t surprising. What is surprising is the zoomed in picture of Yoongi behind him and the headline on the article.
‘Speculation surfaces after netizens claim that the Nation’s Sweetheart’s personal bodyguard might be none other than SUGA.’
“Who the fuck is Suga?” Jimin asks, still confused.
“That was Yoongi’s boxer name before he retired.” Hoseok says, taking his phone back. “Apparently he was big in the boxing scene, as close as you can get to being a celebrity while being a boxer.” Jimin’s mouth falls open, that certainly is news to him.
He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts.
“That still doesn’t explain why he’s quitting.” He frowns.
“This is going to draw a lot of attention, people are not going to come only for you but also for him, he can’t do his job properly if he also has to focus on protecting himself.” Hoseok explains, slowly like he’s talking to a child. It sound all too logical for Jimin’s taste and he doesn’t like it one bit.
“But hasn’t he been retired for years?” Jimin asks, he knows his pitch is getting higher with each question, he doesn’t care. “I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”
“I’m sure you’re going to do your own research as soon you walk out of this room,” Hoseok’s pointed look makes him blush. “But the short version is that he retired at the peak of his career, out of the blue, and basically fell off the face of the earth.” Jimin doesn’t think he could be any more shocked if he tried. “He’s going to stay until we find a replacement.” Jimin closes his mouth and feels the pout forming.
“But I don’t want a replacement!” He whines and Hoseok looks up at the ceiling as if asking for strength.
“That’s not your decision to make.” He finally says and Jimin glares. “Or mine.” Hoseok glares back. “Even though I agree with his reasoning it’s going to be hard to find someone that is so good at his job and that actually has such good chemistry with the team.”
Jimin knows what he’s talking about.
Most people on Jimin’s team, from Hoseok to the producers, back up dancers, make up artist and even the stage crew have been with him since the beginning. They all know each other’s names and birthdays, they are like a big family and any change in that dynamic is an adjustment for everyone.
Yoongi had fitted right in.
“You can take your pout somewhere else, I have calls to make. Off you go.” Hoseok dismisses him and Jimin has to contain himself to not stick his tongue out to him, mostly to keep whatever dignity he has left, and walks, stomps, out of the room.
He has a visit to the studio scheduled for the next hour to go over some tracks for his new album and he sulks the whole way there, he has to stop himself several times from turning around and hunting Yoongi down if only to give him a piece of his mind, and maybe beg a little bit for the man to stay.
Turns out he doesn’t need to.
Yoongi’s inside the empty studio, phone pressed onto his ear and his back to the door where Jimin stands, frozen.
“… I know, hyung, this is gonna be a shit show.” Jimin hears Yoongi say to whoever he’s talking to, his broad shoulders moving with the deep sigh he lets out. Jimin tries to not make a sound, he’s always been too nosy for his own good, but Yoongi seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to his surroundings, which comes in handy when working as a bodyguard, and slowly turns around. They stare at each other for a moment before Yoongi speaks into the phone again. “I gotta go, we’ll talk later.” He say to whoever he’s talking to and hangs up.
“You’re leaving.” It’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth, it sounds whiny and accusing.
“I assume Hoseok already talked to you.” Yoongi says taking a seat on the couch and sighs again, although this time he sounds fond instead of tired. “Come here.”
Jimin sit beside him.
“Yes.” He says, frown deepening.
“Stop pouting, princess.” Yoongi says ruffling his hair and Jimin tries to control his blush.
”You look pretty, princess, now let’s go or you’ll be late.” The gruff voice makes his eyes snap up from the single strand of hair he’s been fussing over for the past five minutes that refuses to fall perfectly over his forehead to glare at his new bodyguard.
“So you can talk.” Jimin says instead and through the mirror he can see the man rolling his eyes. “Nice to know there’s a little sass under all that ice, I was starting to worry they gave me a robot without the personality chip installed.
The bodyguard raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, it’s unfair how attractive that expression looks on his face and the fabric straining over his biceps certainly doesn’t help.
“You have more than enough sass for both us, which is impressive for someone your size.” The man says and Jimin lets out a sound caught between a squeak and a gasp as he turns around to glare directly at him.
“You’re not that much bigger than I am!” He snaps, his hair all but forgotten. The eyebrow that’s already up raises a little more and the corner of those pink lips twitch in amusement but the man stays silent as if to make Jimin realize what he just said.
And yes, maybe the man is not that much taller than him, an inch or two max, but side by side it obvious the difference in their size. Jimin refuses to think think about how big his bodyguard’s hands are or how broad his chest looks.
”Whatever you say, princess, now move it.” His bodyguard says after a prolonged silence and Jimin huffs, walking away with his nose up and refusing to look back even when he hears a chuckle behind him.
The nickname had stuck, Yoongi saying it mockingly when he wanted to get a rise out of Jimin in those first few months and slowly evolving into an endearment that made butterflies explode in his tummy, the fondness in the other’s voice more apparent every time he says it.
“I don’t want you to go.” Jimin says, eyes stuck on his lap.
“Hey,” Yoongi says, making him look up. “It’s my job to assess the risks on any situation and act accordingly to protect you.” His smile’s soft, soothing. “In this situation I’m the risk.”
“Stop sounding so rational and let me be sad.” Jimin huffs, blinking fast to stop the tears that are making his eyes sting.
“No can do, princess.” Yoongi whispers. “One of us has to think with their head and not their heart.” Jimin’s breath stutterers in his chest.
They’re always having these moments Jimin doesn’t know how to explain, as if they are both standing on the edge of something and just when he feels himself starting to fall Yoongi always pulls them back.
“I’m going to stay until they find a replacement.” Yoongi says and clear his throat, snapping them both out of a the trance they were in.
“Hobi told me.” Jimin whispers looking back down.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you in the hands of just anyone. I’ll make sure they’re up to the task.” Yoongi says and Jimin swallows the words he wants to say.
I want to stay in your hands.
Much later, when he’s home and in bed in the company of a tub of his favorite ice cream and a spoon hanging from his mouth, he falls down a rabbit hole of research, just as Hoseok had predicted, about Min Yoongi.
Not his Yoongi, grumpy, sometimes stern but sweet, unassuming, quiet Yoongi but SUGA, undefeated boxer until his sudden retirement, Min Yoongi.
He tries watching a fight on YouTube first but backs out after the first hit to Yoongi’s face, feeling sick at the sight of the blood dripping from his mouth, and settles for reading articles and watching interviews. Jimin tries to match the Yoongi he knows to the man on the screen and it’s surprisingly difficult, the first difference he takes note of are his eyes, the warmth he’s so used to is nowhere to be seen and it unsettles him.
There’s something dark about the Yoongi he’s seeing, he’s all sharp edges, cutting words and cold eyes. No hidden amusement, no smartass remarks, no soft smiles, nothing he associates with the man that’s been his shadow, his protector, for more than a year.
He decides he likes his Yoongi much better.
Also, it turns out Hobi had failed to mention a few other things.
Not only had Yoongi been at the peak of his career when he retired, no, he had been only one fight away from holding the world champion title when he did and this was the first time he had been been seen, or at least recognized, since his sudden drop from the fight and the announcement of his retirement two years prior.
Predictably he has a little bit of a hard time falling asleep, it could be because of all the sugar from the now empty tub of ice cream sitting on his bedside table or, most likely, all the new information swirling in his brain, either way the only thing he knows for sure is that it’s gonna suck waking up tomorrow when he knows his time with Yoongi is coming to an end and there’s nothing he can do about it, as much as he tries to deny it or act as if it’s not happening.
And he gets an unsolicited, unneeded and unwanted reality check the next time they’re out in public.
Everything’s normal, the usual song and dance for when he has to make a public appearance and they know the paparazzi are going to be waiting for him, like the vultures they are. Yoongi sticks close to him as the rest of his security detail makes a perimeter around them and they move as one, like a well practiced choreography, through the mass of people that seem particularly feral this day. There’s something different in the air, as much as he has never been able to completely get rid of the fear he always feels when he finds himself surrounded by screaming people and flashing cameras, this was something else.
When he notices what it is, it’s a little bit too late. The mob of people are not trying to get to him they’re trying to get to Yoongi and it’s with a frenzy he has seen only a few times before in his life, a new kind of fear unlocks inside of him when he sees the cameras being shoved in Yoongi’s face when a couple of people manage to bypass the first line of defense and they get close, too close.
They’re quickly pulled away but Jimin’s on the verge of a panic attack by the time a voice makes everyone freeze around them.
“SUGA!” Someone shouts and it sounds like the person is using a megaphone because it’s somehow heard over all the commotion around them. The silence lasts for a few seconds before the excited whispers start, the cameras keep flashing, and the people part like the red see to reveal the man on the other side who is, in fact, holding a megaphone and wearing the smuggest smile Jimin has seen in his life.
He notices Yoongi’s already tense shoulders get somehow even more tense when he sees the man, muscles coiling tight like a sneak ready to strike at any given time. Jimin has no idea what the fuck is happening but he has the urge to step closer to Yoongi and soothe the tense muscles until they relax under his touch, he only follows the first one.
He knows Yoongi’s aware of him getting closer because the man moves automatically with him, still acting like a shield even when he’s the one they’re after, his eyes the man strutting towards them.
And he is strutting, there’s no other way to put it.
He walks like a model on a runway and clearly enjoys the attention he’s getting at the moment. His shoes are polished and expensive, Jimin knows his clothes are designer even if there’s no logo in sight, his hair is slicked back and no strand of hair is out of place, he would even call the man handsome it it weren’t for the nasty grin on his face. He knows a performance when he sees one and this man, oh,putting on a show, the only thing missing is background music and, judging by the megaphone still in the man’s hand, it’s a miracle there’s none.
The man stops only when he’s so close to Yoongi that the tip of their shoes are touching and, as if that wasn’t enough, leans in even closer until their noses are barely two inches apart.
Yoongi doesn’t move.
“You owe me a fight, Suga.” The man says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m challenging you right here, right now.” The man leans back, but only a little. “Let’s see if you’re man enough to face me this time or if you’re going to run and hide behind a skirt.” The man’s eyes find Jimin’s over Yoongi’s shoulder and he tries to not recoil from the hostility he finds in them.
Yoongi blocks the man’s path of vision by putting himself between him and Jimin once more, only then does Yoongi finally speak.
“You called them, right?” He says nodding toward the paparazzi. “You never could do anything without an audience, Daehyun, some things never change.” Yoongi sneers. Jimin has never seen him like this before and it’s almost like another person is speaking, the man he saw in those interviews, the one he couldn’t reconcile with his Yoongi. Said audience seems to be holding its collective breath, Jimin included. “I accept your challenge, now get the fuck out of my face.” Yoongi spits and Jimin’s gasp is drowned out by the chaos that erupts around them again.
After that shit show they somehow manage to get out of there in one piece and head straight for the company building where Jimin can finally breathe. He’s confused and overwhelmed and has so many questions buzzing inside his head he doesn’t notice Hoseok waiting for them when they walk in, a frown on his face that usually means Jimin’s in some kind of trouble.
His plans to get Yoongi alone and ask what the fuck was all that are torn to pieces when they’re ushered into one of the conference rooms for a damage control meeting, which is weird for Jimin given that he’s not the one that screwed up for once and that technically he doesn’t necessarily needs to be there, the challenge in his eyes is met with an eye roll from his manager but he lets him in anyway.
He sits on the chair closest to Yoongi’s, his bodyguard has his head in his hands but turns just enough to give him a tired smile.
“Okay, we apparently underestimated how all this would blow up and I don’t know who that man was but I’m gonna go on a limb here and say whatever happened there is not going to help calm things down.” Hoseok says, running his hands down his face and looking as stressed as the time Jimin and Taehyung decided, drunkenly, to go skinny dipping and there were pictures the next day to prove it. Jimin sees Yoongi open his mouth to speak when a new voice makes everyone turn to look at the door where a man is now standing.
He’s so handsome Jimin’s first thought is that he’s one of the agency’s actors, but then his words register in Jimin’s brain.
“That man was Lee Daehyun, current world champion on the lightweight division for the second consecutive year.” The man says entering the room. “The first one he won by default when someone-“ he glares directly at Yoongi, “decided to shave ten years off my lifespan and dropped out of the championship.” Yoongi seems shrink into himself. “And what this moronic idiot just did was to accept an off season, five round match against him, publicly, after not training for two years.” The man’s speech gets progressively faster and louder the closer he gets to the table, Jimin also notices that the man’s ears are getting redder by the second.
“Technically-“ Yoongi tries to say but is interrupted.
“Shut it.” The man snaps. “What the fuck were you thinking? I’m starting to think you’re really trying to drag me to an early grave, haven’t I been a good hyung?” The man plops himself on one of the chairs, as if his strings have been cut. “Why do you hate me?”
“Stop being so dramatic.” Yoongi says to the man and if looks could kill Yoongi would have probably dropped dead right that second.
“If I had more time to look for a new best man I would wring your neck with my bare hands and it’s still a possibility so don’t test me.” The man practically hisses.
“Excuse me.” Jimin says holding his hand up as if he’s in class. “Who are you?” He asks tilting his head in curiosity, the man turns to look at him and smiles. His face transforms and he looks even more handsome when he does.
“Oh, you’re precious.” The man says. “I’m Kim Seokjin, this shithead’s ex manager.” He points at Yoongi. “And I’m here to help you weather the shit’s storm coming your way thanks to him.” Seokjin glares at Yoongi once again before turning back to look at Jimin. “I’m normally more put together than this, I don’t even curse this much, but my wedding’s in three months and I was already stressed out enough without all this fuckery.” He looks at Yoongi again. “You just had to take the bait, didn’t you?”
“You don’t understand-“ Yoongi’s interrupted again.
“Oh, I understand perfectly.” Seokjin says and for some reason his eyes fly to Jimin for a split of a second.
“How do you propose we handle this.” Hoseok finally speaks again and he looks more relaxed, as if finding an equally stressed out kindred spirits in Seokjin has grounded him.
“As I understand Jimin is technically on break, right?” Seokjin asks and Hoseok nods. “That’s going to make things easier for him, he’s going to be attracting more attention than usual, boxing fans and media are a whole different breed.” Seokjin says apparently flipping a switch into professional mode.
Yoongi turns to look at Jimin, apology written in his eyes, but jimin shakes his head and tries to give the man a comforting smile, without thinking he places his hand over Yoongi’s and squeezes gently as if saying ‘it’s okay’. He leaves his hand there even when they turn their attention back to the two managers.
“This match is not going to be just them getting together on a random Tuesday and beating each other up.” Seokjin shakes his head. “It’s going to be a whole circus, everyone knew I represented Yoongi and after he accepted the challenge everyone assumed I still do so naturally I already started getting calls from venues wanting to host the match, brand’s wanting to sponsor it and news stations wanting the confirmed date.” Even though the words are familiar Jimin feel wholly out of his depth. “Because Yoongi’s name is linked with Jimin’s we’ll have to hash out a plan for how much or how little your company wants to be involved with the whole thing.” Seokjin keeps talking and Hoseok’s nodding with the words, a pensive look on his face.
“I’m supposed to meet the CEO after I’m done here, it would be best if you join us as you have more experience with the logistics and expectations of this sort of thing.” Hoseok finally says. “He’ll make the decision on what’s most beneficial for Jimin and the company.” Seokjin nods.
“Lead the way.” He says and follows Hoseok, when he’s almost out the door he stops and turn back to look at Yoongi. “You start your training tomorrow morning, I’ll text you the details later. If you think I’m pissed just wait until Namjoon is through with you.” He smirks and disappears.
Yoongi groans.
“Who’s Namjoon?” Jimin asks, he bites his lip and tries not to giggle. Yoongi looks like a scolded child.
“His fiancée.” Yoongi says. “And my trainer.” He grimaces and presses his fingers to his temples. “I’m fucked.” He sighs. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”
“It’s nice to not be the one being scolded for a change.” Jimin quips and feels accomplished when Yoongi snorts.
“Brat.”
“Hey,” Jimin says a little more serious after a moment of silence, his hand still holding onto Yoongi’s “I don’t understand what’s happening or what’s going to happen but I’m here for you, just like you were there for me.”
“I was kinda getting payed to be there.” Yoongi says and Jimin knows he’s trying to give levity to the situation but Jimin won’t let him, not this time.
“You were getting payed to protect me from other people, it wasn’t your job to go out in the middle of the night to look for Korean food in Paris because I was homesick.” Jimin says softly, like it’s a secret. “It wasn’t your job to drag me out of the practice room after I refused to listen to everyone else when they told me it was enough.”
“Jimin.” Yoongi tries to interrupt him but he keeps going.
“And it certainly wasn’t your job to hold me as I cried after I had a panic attack in a dirty alley in Osaka or in my hotel room in Vegas or in that tiny bathroom at that club in London.” Jimin knows he’s breaking the unspoken vow between them, the one where they never talk about the moments they share after they pass, but Jimin needs Yoongi to understand. “I’m here for you.” He repeats and sees Yoongi’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“Thank you.” Yoongi whispers back