Carved Into You (#01) (Patreon)

Tags:

• DILF Yoongi AU
• Woodworker Yoongi
• College student Jimin
• Age gap
• Fluff, flirting, teasing
• Jimin has a huge crush on Yoongi
• Explicit sexual content
• Top Yoongi, Bottom Jimin

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Synopsis: Jimin is a 23-year-old college art student, and Yoongi is a 38-year-old woodworker running a small quaint shop in Seoul. Needless to say, as his boss, Jimin shouldn't be thinking inappropriate thoughts about Yoongi… right?

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                                                       i.

Seoul is a goddamn expensive city to live in, more so for a struggling college student who has less change in his pockets than he would like. The high cost of living, together with the insane amount of university fees that his parents have to shoulder, forced Jimin to find a part-time job that pays better than a mere convenience store shift.

Jimin is an art major who is already in his senior year and has been working in this small quaint shop downtown that sells furniture and other woodworks for half a year now. Originally, he planned to get a job at an art shop but the pay was quite short for his bills, and being an art museum guide would require him to drop a few units from his program because of conflicting schedules so that was already out of the question.

He didn’t know how he got here, perhaps by mere chance or fate, but Jimin was just browsing through the shop for a sturdy stool he could use for painting when a man wearing a plain white shirt and baggy pants emerged from the back of the shop.

“Hi, did you find what you’re looking for?” he said, and Jimin noticed the faint sawdust blemishing the pale of his left cheek.

“I need a sturdy stool for painting.”

“Ah.” The man snapped his fingers and pointed at Jimin, one corner of his lips curving up with a lopsided smile. “I happened to have the perfect one for you. Follow me.”

Jimin blushed at the way the handsome man smiled at him, and he cleared his throat to conceal the heat in his cheeks as he followed him to the other side of the shop. “That looks cute,” he uttered when he saw the wooden stool that was just perfect for his height. “How much is it?”

“116,000 won.”

“Ah, I see.” Jimin’s hands fumbled on the strap of his sling bag. He didn’t have that kind of money right now. “Thanks. I’ll look around a little more.”

Jimin really liked that stool though.

“Sure,” the man said, folding his arms over his chest as he waited for Jimin to finish browsing through the assortment of things available in the shop. Jimin wasn’t sure if the man knew he was just buying time because: one, it would be weird to suddenly get out of the shop after realizing that he didn’t have the money to buy stuff, and two, the shop owner looked goddamn good in that plain white shirt.

The sleeves had a snug fit around his biceps and Jimin tried not to look too distracted as he acted busy looking at the furniture in front of him. “Oh,” he said as a particular design caught his attention.

He ran his fingers across the intricate patterns on the cabinet, muttering quietly to himself, “Mongolian.”

“You know marquetry?”

Jimin’s head whipped up to the sound of that voice and found the shop owner looking at him with raised brows. “Ah, yeah. You could say that.”

“Do you make one?”

He shook his head. “No. I major in painting.”

“An art student.” The man huffed out an amused breath through his nose. “That’s cool.”

Jimin felt heat pool in his cheeks because, fuck, the man’s smile was dangerous and he better get out of here before he did anything he’d regret later on. “Thanks,” he replied with a polite smile. “I’ll… get going now.”

But just as he was about to walk away, the shop owner told him, “I’m looking for an assistant.” Jimin stopped mid-movement and turned his head to face him. “If you need a part-time job, maybe you can consider applying here.”

Jimin parted his lips, blinking in surprise at the unexpected offer. “How much is the pay here?”

“Enough to buy that stool—” The shop owner jerked his head to the furniture he showed Jimin a while ago, smirking. “And some pocket money for a bottle of soju.”

Jimin blushed when he realized that the man knew he didn’t have enough money in his pockets to buy the last missing piece in his painter setup, and because of the fact that the elder looked and sounded so fucking cool with that smirk on his face that Jimin felt a pleasant churn in his stomach as the other stared back at him.

The senior found himself agreeing to the job on the spot.

So now as Jimin refines the surface of a desk chair with sandpaper, his pair of gloves and heavy duty apron grubby with sawdust, he tries to be subtle in sneaking glances at the shop owner who is meticulously carving out a Rococo design on the wooden mirror frame.

Min Yoongi, a 38-year-old woodworker who owns a quaint shop in Seoul, is now Jimin’s ultimate crush, not to say his longest one at that. Having been working for 6 months under Yoongi’s supervision, every working day feels like a test of Jimin’s patience because of how hot the elder looks while he’s in his zone.

The sleeves of Yoongi’s shirt are rolled up to his shoulders, showing the toned muscles of his arms as they flex in accordance with every movement his hands are making. There’s a deep crease between his dark brows as he eyes the pattern seriously, sometimes flicking out his tongue across his bottom lip when the carving knife in his right hand makes a careful twist.

Everytime the woodworker does that, Jimin finds himself licking his lips in interest.

Fuck, he shouldn’t be thirsting over his boss like this. True to his words, Yoongi pays him well and in just two weeks, Jimin was able to buy that art stool he wanted so badly. If Jimin can’t keep it in his pants, then he’s gonna get his ass fired soon for sure.

When the clock hits five in the afternoon, Jimin lets out a huff of exhaustion and gathers his tools to put them neatly back into the toolkit. Walking towards Yoongi’s workbench, he says, “I’m done with refining, Yoongi-ssi. I’ll come back tomorrow for the varnish.”

The woodworker hums without taking his eyes off the frame. “Thanks, kid.”

Jimin pouts a little as he takes off his apron and pair of gloves. He doesn’t like it when Yoongi calls him a kid.

“Ah, wait.” Jimin stops midway to the door, turning around to see Yoongi beckoning for him to go back. “Here,” the woodworker says and offers Jimin a white envelope. “Your pay for the week.”

Trying not to look too excited, Jimin smiles at the man and takes his hard-earned money. “Thank you, Yoongi-ssi.” He giddily opens the envelope to take a few bills out so he can treat himself to a good restaurant tonight, but the smile on Jimin’s face falters a fraction when he sees extra cash slipped into his weekly pay.

“Yoongi-ssi?” His lashes flutter as he looks at the woodworker sitting behind his workbench. “I think you got my salary wrong.” Taking what should be his payment for the week, Jimin offers the envelope back. “Here.”

“I didn’t get your pay wrong.” Yoongi folds his arms together, looking up at Jimin’s baffled expression. “It’s a bonus.”

“Bonus.” Jimin blinks stupidly for a few seconds.

“Yeah.” Yoongi tilts his head slightly to the side, a small smile playing across his thin lips. “You’ve been working hard, Jimin, so I wanna thank you for that.” A pause. “Besides, you need money for a new phone, right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “I-I…” he stammers out. “How did you know?”

The woodworker scratches the side of his neck, averting his eyes from Jimin. “Heard you talking with your friend in the shop yesterday.”

Ah, Jimin recalls. Jungkook went to the shop yesterday because his best friend wanted to see the ‘hot boss’ that Jimin has been blabbering about for months. Before leaving the shop, Jungkook gave him a knowing smirk and whispered to him, “Your boss is giving off big DILF energy, not gonna lie. How old is he again?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Oh.” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrow. “Totally fuckable.”

Jimin went back to work with his cheeks flaming that day and Yoongi asked him if he had a fever or something. Fucking embarrassing.

“I—” After struggling for words for a moment, Jimin takes a deep breath to compose himself and says, “Thank you, Yoongi-ssi. I appreciate the help.”

Yoongi grunts and waves a dismissive hand at him before turning back to his work. “Go and eat something good. You’re skinny as fuck.”

“Hey, I’m not.” Jimin huffs. Well, okay. He lost a few pounds because university work has been a pain in the neck these last few weeks and working a part-time job three times a week doesn’t make it any better for him.

“You are.” Yoongi takes the chisel and hammer from the toolbox. “You should take good care of yourself, Jimin-ah. You’re a student so you should eat well.”

Jimin feels heat creeping into his cheeks at the concern in his boss’s words, and he shuffles restlessly on his feet twice, bowing his head to conceal the blush on his face. “I eat just fine.”

“No. You tend to miss your meals when you’re too focused on the stuff you’re working on,” the woodworker berates him with a frown on his pale, handsome face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice; you’ve been my assistant for six months already.”

Jimin wrinkles his nose and crosses his arms defiantly. “Then you should feed me,” he challenges Yoongi. “If you treat me to dinner, then maybe I could eat a whole bucket of chicken.”

“Okay. Grab my phone and order whatever you want.”

Jimin blinks in surprise at that, both of his arms falling down on his sides. “I’m just kidding, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Well, I’m not.” The woodworker slides his phone on the workbench towards Jimin. “Call for delivery. I’m feeding you tonight until your belly explodes.”

Stunned, Jimin reluctantly takes his boss’s phone with a small pout and tries not to think too much of the pleasant tug in his heart.

— to be continued