California sucks ass.

And no, not Jimin's fat one.

Jimin groans, wiping the sheen layer of sweat from his forehead. The heat of California was too much for his Korean heart. Busan's heat was bearable for him, but Californian heat? That was a whole other story. One which consists of sweat, bad smell, sweat... and more sweat.

Dropping his backpack on the floor, Jimin shuffles through his pockets, his fingers getting a hold of the room's key. He twists it, clicking the door open, and finding the button of the fan immediately.

"What the fuck." Jimin's eyes widen as he presses the button once. Nothing happens. Twice. Still nothing.

Safe to say, Jimin resorts to violence.

He jabs at the button several times, praying to all the angels above. He tilts his head, his brown strands falling over his eyes. He shoves his hair back, glaring at the fan which is way too stubborn for his liking.

Switching countries to complete his under graduation was probably one of the smartest decisions he's ever made. His logic said completing his studies in the US will help him get a job here easier. His parents agreed fairly quick, so here he was—fighting for his life against his room's fan.

More like his and his roommate's.

From the little information he had, he was gonna share the room with another guy who was around his age. Utterly unlike him, Jimin was early today. He was supposed to be at the room by 8 A.M. and he is—he checks his watch—half an hour early.

Giving up on the fan, Jimin sighs and grabs his bag from the floor. His left hand gets a hold over his suitcase's handle, and he drags it toward the bedroom along with himself.

But the bedroom's door is opened.

Jimin freezes, eyebrows shooting up. The little space between the door and the wall provides him no view of anything inside. He hears some shuffling on the other side, then a sound.

A creak.

And then, a moan.

A very loud one at that.

He takes a step back, scoffing. Heat rises to his cheeks, and he rolls his eyes. He scoffs again, feeling creeped out about who's in his apartment this early in the morning. The no-view of the bedroom doesn't help him either. He's already frustrated with the heat enveloping him, and now, someone is fucking in his bedroom.

Fucking sweet.

Jimin takes a deep breath, taking a step toward the door again. He raises his palm to knock, gulping slowly. He knocks once.

No answer.

He sighs, knocking harder. He hears some muffled voices from inside, and he does a happy dance mentally. Just when he thought the door will open, the person on the other side slams it on his face and locks it.

Jimin scoffs loudly, shocked. "Did I just get locked outside the bedroom of my own apartment?" he mutters to himself, glaring at the door the same way he was glaring at the fan a few minutes back.

He looks around, tongue poking on the inside of his cheek. He notices the dirty dishes in the sink, the pair of shoes lying near the couch, and a few magazines thrown around randomly. A cup of finished coffee sits beside the couch, 'LOL' printed on it with yellow.

Rolling his eyes, Jimin clenches his jaw. This time, he bangs his fist on the door. "Hey! Open the goddamn door!"

He hears some voices again, before a female's whimper tears through the air.

"Jungkook!"

Jimin blinks. Jungkook. The name sounds familiar. He tilts his head, before stopping in his tracks and deciding to focus on the task at hand. When he's offered with no response from the other side, he raises his palm to knock again before the door flings open.

A man taller than him stands in front of him. His eyes are sleepy-looking, his hair a mess as if someone has been tugging at the black locks for hours. A pair of gray sweatpants hangs low on his hips, and he stares at Jimin boringly.

Jimin, on the other hand, is losing his shit. Or his mind. Maybe both.

He cannot stop staring at the strong muscles on the guy's stomach. His abs are well-defined, his skin looking like honey in the morning light. When his gaze drops, his skin heats up at the view of the perfect outline of his roommate's—

"Like what you see? Wanna take a bite, little guy?" The man asks, voice amused. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for Jimin to speak. Jimin blinks back to reality, barely registering his words.

"Huh?"

The man chuckles. "You're cute." He straightens up, peeking inside over his shoulder. Jimin taps his foot impatiently on the floor, watching the guy nod his head to the female inside the bedroom. "So, give us a minute. She was just leaving," he says, and Jimin raises his eyebrows again. Before he can muster a reply, the door closes.

Just when Jimin is about to throw a temper tantrum, the door opens to reveal a redhead. She's much shorter than him, her red hair reaching down to her waist. A white sweatshirt hangs loosely on her shoulders, and her cheeks are dusted pink.

"Oh, hi," she says, avoiding eye contact with Jimin. She smiles shyly, awkwardly putting a hand out for a handshake. "I'm Ruby."

Jimin takes her hand in his smoothly. "Jimin. Jimin Park."

She smiles. "I know."

Jimin furrows his eyebrows, and when he opens his mouth to ask a question, the same guy—Jungkook—walks behind her. He shoves his hands in his sweatpants, silently looking at Ruby's hand in Jimin's.

Blood rushes to Jimin's cheeks, and he drops her hand. "I'm sorry," he coughs out. He feels like he's crossed a boundary—she could be his girlfriend, and he's just witnessed them having sex in the morning. Okay, he just heard some noises, but he would still count it as witnessing.

"I'll uh, leave," she says, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles down at her once before she rises on her tiptoes. He presses his lips against hers, before pulling back. "Bye. I'll see you."

Jungkook just nods at her, and she walks out with a giggle. Jimin's eyes jump between Ruby and Jungkook, fairly interested. Jungkook turns his head toward Jimin, eyes still in that give-no-shits look.

"So?" Jimin quirks a brow. "I'm Jimin."

Jungkook nods. "I know."

"Why does everyone know who I am already..."

Jungkook tilts his head, lips curling into a smirk. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the bedroom door. "Of course everyone knows you. You're my roommate."

Jimin chokes on the air, coughing loudly. "I'm your what?!"

"Roomie," Jungkook says, blowing a raspberry.

"I heard that, dumbass." Jimin groans. "And I- I witnessed my roommate fuck his girlfriend an hour after stepping a foot in California soil? Great."

"Well," Jungkook begins, speaking in a low and raspy tone. "First off, she's not my girlfriend. Secondly, the Californian soil has a lot to offer, outside of some great women." Jungkook pauses to check Jimin out from head-to-toe. "A lot, indeed."

Jimin stares, unimpressed at his new roommate. "Well, whatever. Now, before I start rambling about how this place has fucked up high temperatures, and even more fucked up electricity services, move so I can throw my things inside."

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows. "Electricity?"

"That's what you got out of it?!"

"Yeah." Jungkook grins cheekily.

Jimin sighs. "Yeah. I mean, the fan doesn't work and this place is hot as balls."

"The fan... does work, Jimin."

Jungkook walks toward Jimin, standing a bit too close. Jimin's eyes widen at the close proximity, Jungkook's citrus-like scent overwhelming his senses. He opens his mouth to speak, but Jungkook beats him to it. "Here," he says, reaching his palm behind Jimin's head and onto the switchboard. Jimin can't seem to care about the fan's buttons when Jungkook is standing this close to him. Shirtless, might he add.

"Look, it works perfectly fine," Jungkook murmurs near his head, and Jimin snaps his gaze toward the fan above him. He nods once before Jungkook pulls back, his face right in front of Jimin's. He reaches a finger out to touch Jimin's cheek, but Jimin slaps his hand away.

"Got it," Jimin says, too quick.

Jungkook hums, not moving back an inch. He just stares right into Jimin's eyes, and it makes Jimin's heart skip a beat. Jungkook is staring at him like he could cut through his eyes and touch every inch of him—and everything he is on the inside.

It makes his heart race.

"Jungkook," Jimin whispers. "I have to... go to the bathroom."

"Yeah, baby," Jungkook whispers back, smiling for a moment, before he pulls back. "On the left when you enter the bedroom."

Jimin nods and stays in his spot for a few seconds, catching his breath. He looks at Jungkook, who's walking over to the kitchen. He searches from something in the fridge, and the next thing Jimin sees is four eggs on the kitchen counter.

He decides to ignore the way Jungkook's back muscles flex when he reaches for something. And he definitely doesn't notice Jungkook's sweaty, black hair clinging to the back of his neck or his tall, buff body.

Focus, Jimin.

Jimin curses to himself in Korean, gripping his suitcase and striding toward the bedroom. He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly before opening the door. Then, he throws his stuff on the bed, closing the door behind him. He sits, fingers grazing the soft sheets of the bed. His palms run over his face, and his skin is on fire. He mutters a few more curses under his breath, before glancing at the closed door with a challenge in his eyes.

He will absolutely not goon over his roommate.

And he'll definitely not think about how Jungkook's breath felt against his lips.

But most of all, he'll not think about what would've happened if he didn't ask Jungkook to pull away.

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