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Jimin favors structure and routine in his life because they don’t demand anything extra of him. Things are simpler that way.
For as long as he can remember, he has maintained a specific regimen: wake up at five-thirty, run for exactly fifty minutes, shower. Next is coffee, getting dressed, and going to work. He has lunch at his desk unless Taehyung successfully guilt-trips him into going out so they can spend time together. Then, it’s home by six, dinner, reading a book, and going to bed. Rinse and repeat.
Sure, it’s not an exciting life, but exciting was never Jimin’s thing anyway. Excitement means chaos, which creates anxiety, which leads to bad situations and heartache. He’d pick his way any day.
His apartment is clean enough that when he has guests over, they ask if it’s a model home. Every article of clothing hanging in his closet is facing the same direction and is color-coded. Checking his email throughout the day means he typically has at most three unread emails at a time—naturally, only because he flags them to be read after nine in the morning (no one will disrupt that morning routine). And the only plant he has ever managed to keep alive—a peace lily that is drooped slightly to the side but perseveres nevertheless—is loved and on display in the corner of his living room that catches the most natural light.
At twenty-nine years old, Jimin has a well-respected role at a branding company as one of the lead graphic designers, a monthly appointment with his therapist, and enough income to buy the good olive oil each time he shops without feeling guilty afterward.
He’d say he’s been successful at living a good life.
But if you ask his best friend, Taehyung, he’s apparently “disturbingly” boring. Jimin would prefer the term “peaceful”, but it seems peaceful is overrated in Taehyung’s enigmatic mind.
Jimin’s phone rings with an incoming call, causing soft piano keys to start playing. Blonde hair shoved off his forehead by the summer breeze, he grabs his phone from the pocket of his dress pants and answers, pressing it to his ear.
“Where are you?” a deep, familiar voice asks.
Raising a brow, Jimin comes to a stop in front of the small cafe and stares through the window—catching not only his reflection but the brown-headed, handsome guy sitting alone at a table in the front with two coffees in front of him. “I’m literally at the door. I can see you.”
On cue, Taehyung looks over, dark eyes catching on Jimin at the door.
“No, you don’t,” Taehyung mutters before quickly hanging up.
Snickering, Jimin grabs the door handle and walks inside, instantly hit with a cool, refreshing gust of air. Espresso and cinnamon are the first to catch his nose, and he hums, heading to his friend’s table.
It’s a bit crowded this morning with college kids studying for summer courses and members of the corporate world on their lunch breaks, just like Jimin. A coffee machine whirls in the background, and Jimin hears a barista call out someone’s name for an order.
Familiar. Predictable.
Shoulders relaxing, Jimin slips into the seat across from Taehyung and smiles, taking the coffee cup that the brunette offers. “Thanks.”
“No problem. One iced oat milk latte, for you, my buddy.”
“Extra shot of espresso?”
Taehyung pulls a face, hands going up. “What am I? A monster? Obviously I couldn’t forget the extra shot.”
Jimin grins. “I appreciate it.”
Without thinking, someone’s napkin at a table next to them drops, and Jimin gets up, picks it up, and gives it back to them with a small nod. The person sings his praises, and Jimin plays it off, sitting back down. He adjusts his cardigan, fixing it so it’s straight again in the front—all the buttons facing the same way. He takes a sip of his coffee and then says, “So, what’s up?”
Taehyung has his own drink halfway to his mouth, but pauses to stare at Jimin with a mix of disgust and shock on his face.
Jimin blinks at him. “What?”
His best friend practically slams the drink back down onto the table, sighing loudly. “You’re, like, way too much of a perfectionist.”
“What?”
“It sort of makes me want to throw up.”
Offended, Jimin puts down his own cup and draws his brows together, mouth agape as he tries to find words.
“Seriously. One of these days you’re going to have to let someone mess you up, but in, like, a good way. Like, ruffle your hair out of its styling, get a matching tattoo with you—something, man.”
“I am… so lost,” Jimin admits. “When did we start talking about tattoos?”
“What I’m saying is you told me yesterday that you apologized to the new intern for asking them to get you a coffee.”
“They looked busy.”
“Yeah, busy doing a coffee run for everyone in the office,” Taehyung deadpans, staring at him like he’s not real.
Frowning, Jimin defends, “I was still inconveniencing them.”
“You wouldn’t have made it in Victorian times.”
“Oh, for sure, I would’ve gotten tuberculosis as a young child and perished.”
“Absolutely.”
“I have weak lungs.”
“What? No, you don’t. I’m talking about your lack of a backbone and insane need for structure, Jimin—”
“I get seasonal allergies, though.”
“That’s from pollen.”
A shrug from Jimin. “Still counts.”
The bell above the door to the cafe chimes. Taehyung and Jimin stare one another down.
Then, finally breaking, Taehyung cracks the smallest smile, prompting the blonde to do the same. “I’m being serious. You barely leave your apartment anymore unless I’m dragging you out. You’re becoming a hermit.”
“I do leave,” Jimin tells him, defensive.
“Sure, for work.”
“I also go to the grocery store.”
Taehyung’s expression is unenthusiastic. “What a thrill.”
“And last week I went to the library.”
“Do you realize that you just said that in the same way normal people say they went to a club?”
Jimin’s jaw drops. “The library is a wonderful place.”
“Sure. Smells like old paper, though. Oh, yeah! And there’s nothing to do there. It’s boring.”
“You read there, Taehyung. They have books. It’s a library. Fun fact—you can also use it as a notary,” Jimin shares, smiling.
Groaning, the brunette throws his head back. A pained noise leaves him. “You are the only one who would think that’s a fun fact.”
“I also happen to enjoy the smell of old paper, for the record.”
Another sigh. “I know you do.”
While Taehyung sits in a dramatic stupor, Jimin gets comfortable in the chair and takes another sip of his coffee, taking a moment to enjoy it. It’s perfect: the best ratio of bitter and strong, rich and mild. Taehyung knows, after over fifteen years of friendship, to ask them to leave the sugar out. He feels relief flooding him at the familiar taste.
He is working on final revisions for a clothing store’s rebrand tomorrow and putting on a presentation Friday. Tonight is laundry and possibly finishing the philosophical biopic that’s sitting on his bedside table with a bookmark neatly placed in the middle.
All good things.
“So,” Taehyung finally speaks again, lifting his head and raising his brows at Jimin. “We should go to a show this Saturday.”
Gasping, the blonde leans in and asks excitedly, “An opera? No! A play? Wait! It’s not that cat puppet show I sent you on Instagram, right? I’ll actually die of cuteness overload—”
“Jimin.” Taehyung is making a face at him that Jimin doesn’t quite understand, so he purses his lips, wide-eyed, and waits. Taehyung crosses his arms, leaning closer as he slowly says, “It’s a concert. Like, for a band.”
Instantly, the blonde’s face sours. “No cat puppets?”
“No cat puppets, you old lady.”
Huffing, Jimin taps his finger against the tabletop and asks, “Fine. What band is it, then? I don’t really listen to any bands.”
“It’s the band.” Taehyung’s brow climbs. “I got us tickets for Afterglow.”
Jimin looks at him like he’s a troll under a bridge speaking in riddles. “Uh, okay? No idea who that is.”
Now, both of the brunette’s brows shoot up. “What? Yes, you do.”
“I can assure you I do not.”
“Jimin. Be serious.”
“Don’t make that face at me.” Jimin wriggles a finger at his best friend. “I listen to classical piano and J-POP, and that is it. I have no clue who that band is. We had this same discussion when you showed me a photo of Harry Styles and expected me to know who that random white man was.”
“Because it’s Harry Styles—”
“And that photo made him look like he was a stripper pilgrim. That side of the internet has nothing to do with me, and you know that.”
Scoffing, Taehyung stares at Jimin in shock and then finally says, “You genuinely don’t know who Afterglow is?”
A head shake. “Nope.”
“Wow. How are you real?”
Jimin pouts. “Don’t be mean.”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just in shock.” Taehyung still looks awed as he reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone, and unlocks it to scroll. “Do you remember Jeongguk from high school?”
Flashbacks hit Jimin in cold, quick succession. Jeongguk. Of course he remembers him. Soft black hair. Softer, rounded eyes. A bright smile and a shy personality. He played every sport there was and excelled in class, but hardly spoke more than two sentences at a time to anyone. They were friends, but Jimin hasn’t heard from him in years. Like most people, they agreed to keep in touch and just… never did. Life goes on.
Plus, Jimin may or may not have had a tiny, minuscule crush on him during school. But that’s well in the past now.
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with this?”
“Well, I got in touch with his manager and got us tickets to the show.”
Jimin has a deep frown and a line etched between his brows. “Jeongguk… has a manager? Like at his job? What does that have to do with the concert?”
Taehyung glances up from his phone, expression carefully blank.
“I’m going to give you a second to think about that.”
Jaw-dropping, Jimin complains, “You are so mean to me—”
“Jimin. You are the smartest person I know, but you are not being smart right now—”
“I’m going to put Nair in your shampoo next time I come over, you bitch—”
“Jeongguk is in Afterglow,” Taehyung cuts him off, an air of finality in his tone.
Silence.
“Huh?”
A sigh. “Jimin—he’s the lead singer of the band.”
“Oh?” The blonde leans back in his chair, cupping his hands around his warm drink. Slowly, realization dawns. “Oh…”
“Mhm.” Taehyung is still scrolling on his phone, searching for something.
“I—Since when? I thought he was, like, going to be a sports coach or an engineer or something—A band? What?” Jimin’s mind is reeling. He can’t wrap his head around the concept. Jeongguk with his head ducked down and a shy smile, a bell-like laugh—always far too lanky for his own good. That Jeongguk was the lead singer of a band now?
“The band is famous, too. Like, top five in the world. I’m actually fucking baffled that you didn’t know this sooner.”
“Famous?”
Taehyung leans halfway over the table and turns his phone so Jimin can see the screen as he scrolls. It’s an Instagram page. The official tag is @Afterglow. The account has over thirty million followers, and all the posts are of stages, crowds, and the same four men. Jimin only vaguely recognizes one of them, and it’s Jeongguk.
He’s massive now—it’s obvious through the photos. Tall, muscular, broad shoulders. He has cool style and piercings, and Jimin catches flashes of a tattoo sleeve in some shots. And he’s hot. Extremely hot. Styled black hair, a strong jawline. With makeup on and at certain angles, his bright eyes change in several photos—his gaze pining Jimin like prey even through the screen.
As Taehyung scrolls, Jimin sees the sold-out venues, the massive crowds surrounding them while they walk to blacked-out SUVs, the support backing everything.
Famous almost doesn’t encompass what he sees. It looks like a completely different world.
Before, Jeongguk and he were in the same place—both literally and figuratively. But now… Jimin hasn’t ever seen anything like this—at least, not with someone he has known.
Staring at the pictures, it hits that this is his Jeongguk. Jeongguk from second-period calculus. The one who was the captain of every team. The one who shared wired headphones with Jimin during lunch periods and breaks, and who would grin at the anime they watched, occasionally turning to Jimin to make sure he was having just as much fun.
“He’s… so different now,” Jimin mutters.
“Hot,” Taehyung adds eloquently.
Jimin snorts. “That’s not what I was saying, but sure.”
“Oh, come on, Jimin. You know he’s hot now. Don’t act like you didn’t like him in high school.”
A flush colors the blonde’s cheeks. He waves the phone away, having seen enough of Jeongguk’s huge biceps and gorgeous smile. “Yeah, whatever. So, he’s a singer now. Why does that automatically mean I’m going to a concert with you?”
“Because I want to get the drummer’s number and their music is good.”
Jimin blinks at him. “Are you serious?”
A shrug. “Yeah, the music’s amazing. I think you’d actually be really into it if you gave them a listen. Their new album, especially, is—”
“Kim Taehyung,” Jimin cuts him off, voice firm. His brow climbs. “Are you bringing me to a concert so you can try and fuck the drummer?”
Taehyung’s second shrug is shameless. “Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter because you’ll be too busy with Jeongguk to worry about what I’m doing.”
“I haven’t seen him in years. He’s not even going to remember me.”
A snicker. “He will.”
“He won’t.”
“Okay, then, say he doesn’t...” Taehyung puts his phone down on the table and leans over, eyebrows wiggling mischievously. “We’ll jog his memory. We’re going to put you in the tightest clothes you own, and suddenly you’re going to be all he can think about.”
“You just said yourself that he's some ultra-famous singer now. He’s probably a millionaire who is drowning in people to hook up with. I’m not even going to be a factor in his mind.”
“Not with that attitude,” Taehyung mutters, sitting back in his chair again. “Look, just do me a favor and check out their music? If you like it and think you can sit through two hours of it, promise me you’ll at least try by coming on Friday. For me?”
They share a long stare. Jimin’s arms are crossed, and a million thoughts are running through his mind.
But still… Taehyung is his best friend. He would do anything for Jimin, and Jimin would do anything for him. They’ve been arguing and laughing together since middle school. Plus, Taehyung is doing that annoying puppy-dog look, and he knows Jimin can’t say no to it.
So, with a huff, Jimin relents, “Fine. I’ll listen to them tonight and let you know, okay?”
Taehyung does a cringy fist bump in the air and mutters an excited “Yes.”
Jimin rolls his eyes, but his mouth is lifting on one side. “They better be good.”
“Oh, you won’t be disappointed.”
After a long day at work, Jimin gets home, immediately settles in for the evening, eats dinner, and then remembers what happened over coffee earlier in the afternoon with Taehyung. True to his word, he turns on his television, logs into YouTube, and searches for ‘Afterglow’. To make sure nothing weird pops up, with a flush on his face, he types in ‘the band’ after it.
Jeongguk’s face greets him immediately, along with three other handsome band members.
So, Jimin starts clicking. The first video he presses is a teaser for their new album, titled STARDUST. It was posted two months ago and has over ten million views. It’s a short, staged video. All of the band members are present, playing snippets of songs from the album on a dingy stage at an underground club. There are bright lights and chanting fans. Their style is rock-punk heavy, with Jeongguk’s hair styled messily on purpose and dark makeup smeared under his eyes. His tattoos are on display, and he’s wearing a chain.
Jimin has known he’s gay since he was young, and he’s always been into people with… simple style and taste. But he can’t deny that something in him flips at the sight of Jeon Jeongguk dressed like that, singing into the microphone on stage, a guitar strapped to him. Since when did he learn guitar, anyway?
And the music… actually isn’t bad. It’s definitely loud, but Jeongguk’s voice sounds angelic over the sharp bass and fast drums. So, it’s easy for Jimin to click on the next video, and the next one, and the next one—
Before he knows it, he has listened to the whole album—music videos included—and even gone back to some of their hits from the past few years. Time passes, and by nine-thirty that evening, he finds that he has spent hours listening to their music and watching music videos, paying attention to lyric breakdowns.
Routine disrupted, Jimin finally finds it in himself to turn off the TV. He stretches on his way up from the couch and goes to retire for the night. But just before he goes to rest that night, he texts Taehyung. It’s one sentence—to the point and honest.
To: Taehyung
Sure, I’ll go to the concert on Friday
And Taehyung is quick to text back, because of course he is.
From: Taehyung
Hehe i bet :)) See you then!!!
Jimin tries and fails to ignore the excitement he feels.
The week comes and goes, and before Jimin knows it, Kim Taehyung is on his doorstep, holding bags of clothes and grinning. What he chooses to say when he walks inside is a classy, “Okay! Now, let’s get as naked as we can without being arrested.”
Jimin, holding the doorknob, glances down at his sweater and pants with increasing worry, all while Taehyung practically skips down the hallway to his bedroom, humming one of Afterglow’s songs to himself. Jimin only recognizes it because he has had their latest album on repeat for four days, but that’s not the point.
Taehyung is the first to dress. When he comes out of Jimin’s bathroom, it’s with his hair spiked out at the sides in a purposefully messy sort of way, low-rise, flared leather pants, and a matching leather vest that shows off the line of his chest and his midriff. What kills Jimin, though, are the fingerless gloves.
His best friend does a little spin, boots already on. With his arms crossed, Jimin’s brows slowly climb. “You… aren’t serious.”
And rather than being offended, Taehyung laughs and brushes the comment off, going for the other bag he brought. Jimin is worried that there doesn’t seem to be much weight to it. “It’s the style. Just trust me, okay? People are going to be wearing way crazier shit than this.”
Tossing him the bag, Taehyung wanders over to Jimin’s nightstand and starts doing his makeup, looking into the small mirror hung above it to check his work as he goes. Jimin riffles through the bag. “Tae. No, you genuinely can’t convince me this is suitable.”
“Go try it on, Jimin. You need to have a little faith in me, you know.”
“This is—It covers nothing.”
“That’s the point, oh my—” Taehyung caps the mascara and turns to him, making a face that tells Jimin to close his agape mouth. Uh oh. Serious Taehyung—fingerless gloves be damned. “Park Jimin. I have never led you astray. I pick out new clothes for you all the time, and you always look hot in them. Try the fucking outfit on, and if you don’t like how you look in it, we’ll pick something else out from your closet. Fair?”
Full of trepidation, Jimin holds the offending clothes up and asks, “And… if I do like the way I look?”
“Then, you owe me an apology, and we'll go have fun at the concert dressed like bad bitches.”
Pouting, Jimin questions, “Am I not a bad bitch even in my sweaters?”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, expression growing increasingly fond. “You are. Now go change.”
Relenting, Jimin does as asked.
It takes him several long minutes to come out of the bathroom.
Not because it’s difficult to put the clothes on. As mentioned before, there isn’t exactly much to change into. No, what takes him so long is that, once the clothes are on, he gets sidetracked—staring in the mirror at himself.
Because, annoyingly, Taehyung is right as usual.
Jimin looks incredible.
He has on a dark button-up that’s loose at the shoulders and collar and goes perfectly tucked into the white, pleated skirt he has on. To top it off, Taehyung picked out short white socks with frills at the ends, and they look adorable paired with his Mary Janes.
Every time his gaze catches his own reflection, a look of disbelief crosses his face because he genuinely can’t believe how good he looks. It’s cute and hot, fun and sexy—all rolled into one.
When he finally walks out, the first thing he says to his best friend is, “You are a scary, scary man.”
Taehyung snorts and looks up from where he had been scrolling through his phone in Jimin’s armchair. His eyes go wide. “Holy shit, you look so hot.”
Jimin doesn’t even have it in him to blush right now. He can only nod in agreement. “I am… so sorry for doubting you.”
“Damn right.” Taehyung stands up and walks back over to the dresser. “Now, hurry up, let’s do your makeup and be on our way. The show starts in, like, an hour.”
At the very least, he could try to have fun with this. Even if it’s outside of his routine, there’s a chance he could have a nice time. With that thought in mind, for once, Jimin goes without complaint—the excitement for the night finally settling in.
Jimin knew concerts were loud. That’s, like, one of the things about them.
But fuck, did he underestimate just how loud they were.
Wincing, he holds tight onto Taehyung’s fingerless-glove-covered-hand as the brunette guides them into the arena and through crowds of people. It’s dark, and there are more people at this venue than Jimin has ever seen at once in his life. Parking was a nightmare, there was a line to get into the building, and the posted signs were confusing. Jimin thought the battle was won once Taehyung finally got their VIP tickets scanned—the bright pink wristbands and glittery STAR VIP lanyards gave him hope—but all it led them to was this stuffed arena, where Taehyung is now having to “Excuse me!” and “Sorry, sorry” his way down the stairs to the floor.
By the time they got here, the openers were already on stage—another band. Their instruments vibrate through the entire arena, and the vocals are good, the songs relatively catchy. Jimin doesn’t know who they are, but he’s sorry to say he isn’t really paying attention either, too focused on staring at Taehyung’s back and trying desperately not to get lost.
Taehyung flashes their VIP lanyards to some venue employees once they reach the floor, and they are led towards the front of the stage. Jimin stares in wonder at it as they pass by sections, baffled at how close they are. Videos online don’t compare.
They are brought through a gate and allowed into what Taehyung keeps telling him is “the pit”, which is just the closest area to the stage. Immediately, Jimin notices that it is just as crowded as the rest of the arena, except there are no chairs. Without an ounce of hesitation, Taehyung walks right up to another employee wearing a headset and says something to him. Because of the loud music, Jimin can’t hear anything he says, but the guy’s eyes widen a fraction, and he nods before turning his head and saying something into the headset. A moment passes, and then the guy is gesturing for Taehyung and Jimin to follow him.
Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up, his steps faltering, when he realizes the employee is guiding them to cut through the other people in the pit, towards the very front. Taehyung cranes his neck toward Jimin, feeling Jimin's momentary hesitation.
Expression softening from his focused look, Taehyung smiles and tugs his hand, shouting, “Come on! It’s okay!”
“These people have probably been waiting for hours. They’ll be mad!”
Taehyung is shaking his head before Jimin has even finished the sentence. “Seokjin saved space for us. Come on!”
Still anxious but trusting him, Jimin follows, and they catch up with the employee, circling along the inside barrier of the pit, traveling tightly between warm people and cool metal. Flashing lights fly all around in different shades of blue and orange, and being so close to the stage makes the opening band that much louder.
True to his word, Taehyung follows the worker, and they are eventually brought to a spot where red tape is marked on the ground with large Xs in the middle. It’s directly in front of the right side of the barrier, and no one is standing in the blocked-off space, despite being confined already. Easily, Jimin and Taehyung can stand there, right in front of the stage, with a modest area to themselves—enough for Jimin to stretch his arms out in front and not bump into anyone, which is more than he can say for the other people in their section.
Nodding to them and telling them what Jimin thinks is to have a good time—reading lips was never his specialty—the employee leaves them there and starts walking back along the barrier in the other direction.
In awe, they both stand there and look around for a moment. Jimin, who has never been to a concert that wasn’t for classical music, and Taehyung, who has gone to concerts at sold-out stadiums all over the country, are in equal shock.
“These are killer spots. Holy shit,” Taehyung yells excitedly.
Jimin nods his agreement, taking a step forward to put his hand on the top of the metal railing. He looks up at the stage, awed by seeing the members of the opening band walking around and performing, mere feet from them. “Wow. This is… actually really cool.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“I’m going to go deaf, though,” he warns.
Taehyung snickers, bumping his shoulder into the blonde’s. “You will not.”
Jimin rolls his eyes, but a smile is plastered on his face.
For several minutes, they watch the opening band and talk about how chaotic getting here was. Jimin loosens up a small bit, sensing the fun, easygoing vibe of the group on stage and of the people around them. Taehyung starts swaying and jumping up on the heels of his feet, dancing subtly to the music, which encourages Jimin to do the same.
At some point, there is a gentle tap on his shoulder, and he turns around, seeing a sweet, twenty-something woman standing behind them with glitter on her face and a bright smile. “Hi! I like your skirt a lot.”
Jimin’s cheeks go bright red, and he finds himself tugging at the hem of the short piece of clothing. “O-Oh, thanks! I like your makeup.”
She laughs kindly and gestures to Taehyung, who has since turned to see what is going on. “And you look great too, by the way! I like you guys’ style! Are you here for Afterglow?”
Jimin nods, and Taehyung says something about how nice her compliment is, and the woman says, “Nice! Me too. I’ve loved them for, like, seven years now, but this is only my second show. Have you guys seen them play before?”
Taehyung, ever the extrovert, is quick and personable when he says, “No, not yet! This will be the first time.”
“Wow! That’s so exciting!” The woman claps her hands together, long, pink manicured nails shimmering under the bright stage lights. “First time and you did VIP? That’s so cool!”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t just us,” Taehyung starts saying, shifting closer to her like they’re friends already. Jimin watches with a soft smile, always in awe of his best friend’s effortless charm. The brunette leans down like he’s telling her a secret, but speaks loud enough for Jimin to hear over the music, “We know the band.”
The woman gasps sharply, a hand flying up to cover her mouth. Jimin snaps his head to Taehyung, eyes just as wide, because he thinks it's probably best not to say anything. For one, it would draw too much attention to them. For two, they didn’t know the band. Sure, they went to school with Jeongguk, and Taehyung got in touch with his manager, who got approval for the tickets, but that didn’t mean much, right? For all they could know, Jeongguk didn’t remember them or know they were here, and Seokjin just agreed to give them the tickets for PR, or because there was a last-minute cancellation, or something.
But it’s too late, because Taehyung is already nodding, gesturing with his thumb over to Jimin. “Yep, this one right here? Jeongguk’s cousin.”
Jimin's and the woman’s jaws both drop at the same time; Jimin’s in horror, and the woman’s in shock.
“Oh my god, that is too cool! Awe, so he’s your cousin, and it’s your first time seeing him play, and it’s in his hometown?” She fawns over Jimin. "This is so sweet! I saw the red tape to reserve the spot, but I had no idea why it was there. Ugh, so awesome!”
Jimin's smile in response is basically a grimace. His laugh is awkward. "Haha, yeah…"
Eventually, someone comes through the crowd and saddles up to the woman with drinks for the two of them. Distracted by the return of her friend, the woman luckily stops interacting with Jimin and Taehyung, leaving the blonde enough time to turn to his best friend and smack the side of his shoulder.
Taehyung jumps and covers his arm, hissing at the pain. Jimin narrows his eyes and scolds, "Are you insane? Why would you make up a lie like that?"
"Listen, fans can get crazy," Taehyung defends. "What do you think they are going to think when they see that this section was reserved, hm? It was the best lie I could come up with."
Jimin blinks at him. "You could have told the truth! What's wrong with the real story?"
"Other than the fact that we're both here to bang the band members that everyone else in this room is already in love with? Hm, well, let me think about it," Taehyung says mockingly, posing like he's thinking hard about this.
A scandalized gasp passes Jimin's lips, and he balls his fists, leaning close to hiss, "We are not here to—"
"Don't act shy." Taehyung makes a face at him. "You know you think Jeongguk is hot."
"That doesn't mean—"
"That's exactly what it means," Taehyung argues.
Jimin opens his mouth to complain, but he is cut off by the sound of the opening band's last song coming to a close. At once, the loud singing and cheering cease, and everyone quiets down, focusing on the stage as the lead singer walks over to the microphone. Breathing heavily, he announces, "That was our last song. Thank you all very much for listening to us play. Giant thanks to the crew who put these shows on every weekend, and to Afterglow for giving us this opportunity. Thank you again, and have a great night! Afterglow is up next!"
Everyone claps and cheers, so Jimin and Taehyung join in, despite admittedly being a bit distracted while they played. They leave the stage, and the lights come on, giving everyone time for a brief intermission before the main act comes out.
When Jimin finally stops staring at the decorated, giant stage and vibrant pink logo on the main screen that reads AFTERGLOW: The STARDUST World Tour, he looks over and finds Taehyung staring at him with a single, raised eyebrow.
Amused, he says, "I'm going to go get us some drinks. Be right back."
Jimin's eyes widen, and he squeaks, reaching for his best friend as he says, "No, Tae—Don't leave me here by myself."
But Taehyung is already slipping into the massive crowd of fans, gone in an instant. So, awkwardly, Jimin stands there and waits for him to get back. For a while, he leans against the metal rail, scrolling through social media posts. It gives him time to think.
He's out of his element here. For a second, he questions why he came. This isn't him, after all. He doesn't listen to pop punk music; he doesn't go out to late concerts wearing short skirts; and, certainly, he doesn't drink while in a crowd. And yet, while he does feel a twinge of insecurity and self-doubt, he finds that it's accompanied by a spark of excitement—excitement for the unknown, for time spent with his best friend, for the prospect of seeing a new version of an old friend. And before he can have an existential crisis about his life choices, Taehyung comes sliding back through the sea of glitter-covered people with two drinks in his hands and a bright smile plastered on his face.
While accepting one of the drinks, Jimin makes a point to eye him strangely. "What's that look for?"
"Nothing," Taehyung sighs happily, bringing his own drink to his mouth. "I can just sense that this is going to be amazing."
Jimin snorts and takes a sip of his drink, and immediately pulls a sour face. It's extremely sweet—way, way too sweet.
"Oh, come on," the brunette whines at him. "You're kidding. Is it still too sweet? I even asked them to cut the amount of sugar in half."
"They should've cut it in fourths, holy shit." Jimin coughs, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry."
The blonde is quick to shake his head. "No, it's cool. You can have this one when you're done with that one if you want it."
Taehyung is still pouting at him when Jimin comes back up from gently placing the drink on the floor just outside of the barrier. Far enough that they won't hit it, close enough to avoid someone else tripping over it.
"Ugh, still… I feel bad. I forget just how bad you are with sugar."
Jimin smiles, scrunching his nose. "Sorry."
Taehyung rolls his eyes playfully and takes another sip, swaying to the rap music playing from the speakers as they wait.
Several minutes go by. The anticipation in the air is palpable as people grow restless and excited, waiting for the night's main act. Jimin can feel the excitement, and based on the way Taehyung keeps leaning over to talk to random people and dances nonstop to the random music playing, the blonde knows he feels the same—searching for anything to do to quell the anticipation.
But it doesn't last forever.
About ten minutes in, the overhead lights dim, and the bright stage lights come back on. When that happens, the opening song starts playing. It's another rap song. Everyone in the crowd begins dancing and screaming, excitement building as the lights drop down before dramatically coming back up—over and over in time with the beat.
Slowly, the bass builds, and the beat gets crazier.
At the very end of the song, it reaches a crescendo. Then, all at once, the music abruptly stops, and the arena goes pitch black.
People shout and cheer because this is it. This is the moment.
Jimin and Taehyung lean on the railing, holding each other's hands, anticipation cresting.
It starts with one strum of a bass guitar. When it echoes through the stadium, the crowd goes wild, and the lights come back just in time to shine on the band coming onto the stage—Jeongguk front and center among the four.
The bassist—Yoongi, Jimin thinks his name was—strums the guitar again, pitching the cord higher. In response, the fans' screams grow louder. The drummer, Namjoon, waves with his sticks in hand, a dimpled smile on display. And the other guitarist, Hoseok, begins playing a melody, slowly circling the edge of the stage. The instrument is loud through the speakers, vibrating the ground and the barrier Jimin and Taehyung are still pressed against.
Namjoon gets to his drum set, Yoongi finds his place on the far right side of the stage—opposite Hoseok's far left—and Jeongguk draws closer, microphone in hand, starting to sing the opening lines of the first song.
"Inside every one of us, a shadow side," he sings, tone low and slightly whiny. "I call it my better side."
Fans all around Jimin and Taehyung start to go insane, jumping up and down, whipping out their phones to record, and screaming the lyrics along with the band.
Jimin feels the beat all the way in his bones, feels the temperature of the room rise with every note, every strum, every kick. All four band members have insane energy, bopping their heads, mouthing the lyrics. Hoseok and Yoongi walk the perimeter of the stage, leaning down to get closer to fans and smiling at them.
Jeongguk has Jimin's eye, though. Of course, he does. His singing voice is magnetic; smooth and sexy, every note perfect. He looks out at the crowd as he finally reaches the front of the stage, coming to prop his microphone up on the stand waiting there. And suddenly he's right there, running a tattooed hand through his styled black hair, undoing the only button on his leather jacket so it falls open, revealing his dark dress shirt and black slacks. His earrings, necklace, and the bracelet on his wrist all glitter under the stage lights. He looks like an angel shining in the night.
"You and I together, we should take a bite." Jeongguk's eyes trail along the audience and slowly… fall directly onto Jimin.
The blonde's breath hitches. Taehyung's hand squeezes against his, and he stops screaming the lyrics to shout, "Jeonggguk!" and wave right at the lead singer. For a flicker, Jeongguk's gaze shifts to Taehyung, and his mouth flits up in a half-smile before his attention is back on Jimin.
"Where did the good boy go?" He sings sensually, eyes not leaving Jimin, even as he takes his microphone back off the stand and starts walking along the edge of the stage. "Killed by desire."
He winks. Jeongguk winks right at Jimin when he says it.
Jimin stands there, a stone surrounded by crashing waves and beaming sun. He stares into the sun, mouth dropped open.
Smirking, Jeongguk finally looks away, continuing down to the other side of the stage, singing away to the lyrics of the opening track. When the chorus begins, he goes up to Hoseok, and they both hype each other up, dancing around one another as Hoseok mouths the lyrics to the singer.
"He looked right at you!" Taehyung leans closer to yell.
In a daze, Jimin nods, still straining to keep his focus on Jeongguk despite the man being across the stage now, singing to the people in the stands. He can't stop, though—too shocked. Shocked that Jeongguk remembered him. Shocked that he acknowledged him, even if it was only in a small way. After all, they knew one another a million years ago, and both live different lives now. They are vastly different.
The band performs the hyped opening song, putting the most energy into the chorus each time it comes around, and it does exactly as intended: the crowd screams and jumps, chanting the lyrics and getting into the show. It's a spectacular performance. And as the first track closes out and the band goes straight into the second one, Jimin tries to focus on the show itself.
And it's incredible.
Jeongguk's voice is sensual and perfect; he hits high notes with ease and drops down into low notes just as easily. He practically runs from one side of the stage to the other, side-step hopping his way over, waving at fans and smiling, singing to them.
Without thinking, Jimin starts swaying and jumping with Taehyung, swept up in the moment, shouting the lyrics.
"Take me to heaven. Cure the depression!" The scream in tandem with the other fans, in time with Jeongguk's words into the mic. "Make me your number one obsession!"
Hoseok and Yoongi take turns singing lines and verses in the opening songs, and Namjoon has a microphone over his drum set so he can ad-lib, which he clearly takes great joy in doing. Especially when it's to shout "Everybody, jump!" dramatically right before a key change. They play some of their major hit songs and get everyone in the arena riled up, throwing them into the show.
Thanks to Jimin's last week of learning the songs and listening to the music, he knows almost all of the words to every track by now. And it's liberating, he will admit; being part of a crowd, holding his best friend's hand, dressed in clothes that he feels truly free in, shouting lyrics at the top of his lungs that tell stories about love and expression and finding oneself.
It's cathartic.
And at the epicenter—Jeongguk. Singing on stage, the black-haired man holds Jimin's attention every time he walks by or stands mere yards away, performing for the audience.
He seems so… in his element—all of the band members do, but there is something incomprehensibly mesmerizing about Jeongguk in particular. It's the sincerity in his voice as he sings the words "Show me nothing's changed. Kiss me like you mean it," and "I mean it when I say I still feel the same."
Sure, it's more intense because he drops to his knees and leans over the edge of the stage, singing the lyrics while he stares right at Jimin for at least the sixth time so far tonight.
Jimin stalls in yelling the lyrics back to him every time, caught like prey in a trap.
But there is no time to process it. None at all. Not with his adrenaline rushing and his hair coming more disheveled the longer the show goes on.
And certainly not when the first break between songs comes, and Jeongguk speaks for the first time that night.
"Are we having fun out there?" He asks, the microphone echoing around the arena. When cheers greet him, he grins. On the big screen, sweat dripping down his temple, leather jacket long ago abandoned, he is easily the most attractive person this side of the continent—maybe even in the world, Jimin would venture to argue.
"Thank you for having us tonight," Jeongguk tells the audience. There is a pause as he takes a sip of water, head tilted back in a way that shouldn't be sexy but still manages to be. It's something about the line of his throat and the sharp edge of his jaw. Once he's done, he drops the water bottle down, walks across the front of the stage, and looks out at everyone in the pit. His eyes drift occasionally over Jimin and Taehyung. "Lots of familiar faces. It's nice to be home."
The crowd goes wild for that—unfazed, Jeongguk gestures to his bandmates. "We've been touring and performing for ten years now, but our love for coming on stage and doing this with you guys never changes. It's an honor to be here, and a dream to still be doing this after all this time. You all came for a great show, and we plan on giving that to you."
Another chorus of cheers.
"Yeah, you guys have incredible energy," Hoseok chimes in, laughing at the end, guitar strap around the back of his neck as he grabs up his own bottle of water.
Yoongi's low, monotone voice comes through from the other side of the stage, "Thanks for coming out to see us. You all look amazing, by the way."
Namjoon and Hoseok add in their agreement, and once again, Jeongguk passes by center stage and dances his eyes down to Jimin and specifically Jimin's bare legs just long enough to agree into the mic, "Yeah, they do."
Taehyung turns, jaw dropping at his best friend, and Jimin outright ignores him, swallowing thickly. He tries to steady his breathing as the band continues talking, cracking jokes and discussing what the show will include.
He can't think about it. It's probably a coincidence. Or, he's gone crazy. Bright stage lights are shining right at all of the band members; Jeongguk probably can't even see the crowd that well, right? He's just looking around.
As he thinks that, the cords to the next song start, and Jeongguk turns to walk the other direction, eyes flickering to Jimin again.
Yep, total coincidence…
The title track for the album starts, and Jeongguk props his microphone onto the stand again, singing in time with the beat. And just like before, Jimin slowly forgets about how insane this night is and chooses to live in the moment.
It's the only thing that feels right.
"When I'm dead and gone," Jeongguk sings, voice pitched lower than it has been for most of the night, his half-lidded eyes falling over the crowd. He tilts his head, singing, "Bury me in stardust."
Jimin starts singing with him. After Taehyung's failed attempts to get Jimin to acknowledge Jeongguk, his best friend finally gives up and starts dancing with Jimin, and they both get lost in the lyrics.
The lights that were too bright and flashy earlier now become addictive and transfixing. The speakers pounding through the air that had been too loud now pull Jimin in, like the call of a siren song.
"Make me the flavor of the week. Now I only feel alive when you're looking at me."
Jimin tosses his head back and bounces up and down on his feet, singing his heart out and getting completely lost in the moment.
They go from one song to the next, quickly working through the setlist. Thirty minutes flash by in the blink of an eye. Before Jimin knows it, they move into the slower tracks. There are phones in the air and flashlights swaying.
Taehyung cries at some point, hugging Jimin tightly. Jimin's eyes do get wet, but he does not cry.
Then, they move into solo songs, and Hoseok abandons his guitar, dancing around the stage and singing. On the second verse, he raps, and Jimin enjoys laughing at Taehyung's attempt to keep up with the lyrics.
Yoongi performs his song under dramatic, moody lighting while playing an acoustic guitar. That time, Jimin does cry.
Namjoon is more impressive than Jimin expects, too, drumming away while he sings into the microphone for his solo. It's the most energetic song of the solos, and luckily dries Jimin's eyes.
As everyone takes their turn, the others get a break off stage.
At the tail end of Namjoon's song, a staff member—the same one who led them to their seats—comes walking down the aisle in front of the pit. Jimin is baffled when he stops in front of them and passes him a small white card. With a single nod, he walks off, leaving Jimin standing there with a random business-looking card in his hands, blinking perplexedly at Taehyung, who shrugs.
"Well, look at it," Taehyung directs as the lights lower, Namjoon's song concluding.
Jimin flips the card over and finds that it's definitely not a business card.
It's a hotel card. On the top is the name of the most expensive hotel in the entire city. Under it, the room number—613. Beneath that, scribbled in messy, all-too-familiar ink writing, were thirteen words and a signature. In theory, not much, but the contents make it plenty enough to knock Jimin's pulse into action.
You look incredible. Come by after the show. I want to see you.
— Jeongguk
"Oh my god," Taehyung squeals, covering his mouth.
Jimin stares down at the card, speechless, sound falling out of the world. "I…"
"Oh my god!" Taehyung repeats, grabbing onto Jimin's arm and shaking him. "This is amazing! I know I said it was going to go like this, but shit, even I didn't think it would happen this quickly."
"This… can't be from him," Jimin reasons, shaking his head and looking to his best friend.
Taehyung stops cheering, expression deadpan. "Jimin. It's real. He's been fucking staring at you all night."
"No, there's no way," he says, holding out the card and leaning over the barrier, trying to look for the employee who gave it to him. Whether to ask about it or give it back, he doesn't know.
"Hey! You are not giving it back, are you crazy?" Taehyung hisses, snatching the card from him. He quickly pockets it, looking around at the fans and then leaning in close to warn the blonde, "We're already getting stares, okay? Play it cool. We'll find out sooner or later if it's real or not on our own."
"Taehyung…"
"Jimin," he counters.
The blonde purses his lips, knowing deep down that he is just as eager as his best friend.
"We'll stop by after the show, okay? Worst comes to worst, you're right, and it's some weird prank."
"And best-case scenario?"
Taehyung makes a fake like the answer is obvious. "We both get laid by millionaires tonight?"
Jimin snorts. "Okay, fine."
"Good," the brunette pats his back.
Just in time, all the lights shift focus to the middle of the stage. Following, Jimin looks up.
Jeongguk slowly appears from below the stage, a microphone on its stand in front of him. He has completely unbuttoned his dress shirt by now and is left standing with it open, a half-soaked-through tank top underneath. The fans scream, sharp and crazed.
Jimin's eyes widen at the sight.
Focused, Jeongguk has a faraway expression on his face as his solo song begins. It starts much more melodic and slower than the others: soft piano notes and a gentle beat. Fog machines magnify the moment at his feet.
The tone of his voice is vastly different than the other songs thus far, too. He sings with just as much passion, but there is something more vulnerable about this one.
Jimin watches in amazement as he performs, singing some of the most heartbreaking and honest words he has ever heard.
"I'm missing all these memories, maybe they were never mine. I feel the walls are closing, I'm running out of time."
The flashlights on people's cellphones come back up. Meanwhile, Jimin clutches his hands to his chest, tuned to the man on stage.
As the chorus comes in, the guitar and drums in the background rise to a crescendo. And then Jeongguk practically starts shouting into the microphone. He grabs the stand, moving like he is always one with the music, even in softer moments like this.
He's…
Jimin shakes his head, entranced. There is no way to describe it. Nothing compares.
Any classical concert he has been to in the past, any play he has seen, any performance online—none of them even come close to watching someone like Jeongguk. Someone so clearly in their element, who has found their craft and mastered it.
Flashes of teenage Jeongguk appear in Jimin's mind. His boyish smile, his awkwardly cut hair, his inability to make eye contact. All along, he was meant to be here—to do this. Jimin sort of feels blind for being unaware until now. Watching him on stage, glowing and singing his heart out, it's obvious.
"Take me alive. Make me a liar. Don't look away until it's gone."
Drawn in, Jimin sways to the music in time, never looking away.
The rest of the world drowns out: the screaming fans all around them, the nearly blinding lights, the bass rattling at his feet. For a moment, all he sees is Jeongguk—a magnified version of the boy Jimin once knew, cast under new light.
Forever could have gone by, and it would have made no difference, because it's still too soon when the song finally concludes.
The rest of the band appears on stage, Jeongguk grabs his microphone from off the stand, and brand-new cords sound through the speakers. In seconds, a new song is on, and the hyped energy is back.
Taehyung shifts his mood instantly, jumping and cheering with the rest of the people in the pit, but Jimin is still blinking, gaze trailing after Jeongguk, distracted. The lead singer is already singing the first verse of the new song, slowly approaching the crowd.
Before Jimin knows it, Jeongguk is dropping to his knees on stage in front of them, singing something sensual into the mic. Their eyes meet for what Jimin thinks is the tenth time tonight, and the half-lidded look from Jeongguk is too intense. The blonde gets instantly shy and looks away, pretending to be focused on Hoseok's guitar playing instead. When Taehyung snickers, Jimin ignores it.
The show goes on like that for another forty minutes. Jimin and Taehyung jump up and down, screaming their hearts out—making Jimin immensely grateful for the shorts built into the skirt he's wearing. If they weren't there, he would be giving the fans in the pit with them an entirely different show.
At some point, Taehyung sticks out his hand as Yoongi walks by, and the guitarist kneels, guitar slung to the side so he can reach out and grab Taehyung's hand. Naturally, tons of other fans crowd around Jimin and Taehyung, their hands flying in the air, hoping the same thing will happen, but it doesn't. No, Yoongi half-smiles at Taehyung, gums out, not looking at anyone else for long enough that Jimin can feel his best friend practically vibrating with excitement beside him. After their hands fall away and Yoongi walks off, back to playing his guitar, Taehyung turns to Jimin with the brightest smile on his face.
"I am so finding a way into that man's pants tonight," he says shamelessly.
Used to his antics by now, Jimin shakes his head, grinning. "You're crazy."
"I'm manifesting."
The band keeps up the energy for the whole show, despite performing for two hours straight. With sweat-stricken bodies and messy hair, they do their last songs, give closing statements, thanking everyone for coming out, and walk off stage. Of course, that's only for five minutes while the entire arena of fans chants "Encore!" until the band finally comes back out. They do two more songs, tell everyone they love them and to get home safely, and bow at the front of the stage.
When that happens, Jeongguk comes up from the bow, waving to fans with a bright smile stretched across his devastatingly handsome face. His dark eyes find Jimin again, because of course they do, and that's when Jimin decides to do something bold. He doesn't break eye contact with the singer, reaches into his best friend's back pocket to grab the hotel card, and subtly brings it down in front of him, pointing to it with a question in his eyes. He silently asks, "Is this really from you? Do you really want me to come?"
Jeongguk's single nod is just as subtle.
And there it is—Jimin's answer.
His breath hitches, and he quickly hides the card, trying to act normal. Taehyung is giving him a look that says "I told you so," which Jimin is working hard to ignore.
The band exits the stage, and the overhead lights come back on. There is chaos as people try to exit the arena. Jimin and Taehyung hold one another's hands tightly as they exit, making sure they don't lose each other. Some fans are crying, others are hugging, and some are drunk, excitedly singing the songs they just heard live or reciting the best moments of the show.
Taehyung rattles on about how good they sound live and how cool Min Yoongi is—how soft his hand was. Jimin listens and hums, occasionally adding to the conversation about their vocals or instruments. His ears are ringing, his legs are sore, but it was easily the best concert of his life—perhaps one of the best nights of his life.
And it's not even over yet.
They catch a cab. Taehyung gives Jimin a look right before they get in. "You're sure you want to go? You're not going to start spiraling on the way over in the car?"
"Oh, I definitely will," Jimin tells him honestly. "But I still want to go."
"Oh?"
"I mean, yeah… this is Jeongguk we're talking about. I haven't seen him in years. What am I going to do? Not go?"
Taehyung's brows are raised, and there is a shit-eating grin on his face. They both slide into the back of the cab together. "Right… and that's the only reason."
Jimin narrows his eyes, arms folded. "It is. We'll talk, and he'll probably be polite. I'll thank him for the tickets, and we'll leave. It'll be nice to see him again."
"Right," the brunette snorts before leaning forward to talk to the taxi driver.
The hotel is about thirty-five minutes from Jimin's house, in the heart of the city. It's only seven minutes from the venue, though, so they arrive there in no time at all. Jimin pays the cab driver, and they thank her before getting out of the car to walk up to the hotel entrance. Jimin links his arm with Taehyung, and they step in, immediately greeted by luxury: marble floors, chandeliers, lush couches in a waiting area, a bar in the far corner. They pass by it all and head straight for the expansive front counter.
A professional woman greets them behind the counter. "Hello, sirs. How can I assist you?"
Jimin nervously takes out the hotel card and flashes it to her, covering the message on the bottom. "We were invited here by the attendee in room 613."
Her eyes widen a fraction, and she dials a phone on the counter before bringing it up to her ear. "Of course. One moment."
Jimin and Taehyung take a step back and wait. Her side of the conversation remains audible once the person on the other end picks up.
"Hello, sir. There is—" A moment of silence. "Yes. Are they permitted to—Okay. Yes. Of course. We will do that now. Thank you, sir. Goodbye."
Taehyung and Jimin stare at each other, impressed and slightly amused looks on their faces.
The woman clears her throat and puts the phone down, grabbing something from behind the counter. "Room 613 is the suite on the top floor. There are two elevators on either side of the building. Here is a key for the room, which he has asked me to give to you, specifically, Mr. Park."
Speechless, Jimin awkwardly accepts the card from her. "Uh…"
"The Jeon party is awaiting your arrival, so he has agreed for you both to go up to the room now. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to let us know."
Jimin is still shocked, so Taehyung takes the lead, grabbing his best friend and guiding them to the nearest elevator. He smiles at the woman, "Thanks so much!"
"What is happening?" Jimin asks out loud as they get into the elevator and the doors close. He is staring blankly at a wall, in a trance induced by disbelief.
"Jeongguk gave you a key to the suite, is what's happening," Taehyung tells him, stating the obvious. He finally takes off his silly fingerless gloves, and Jimin knows he means business now. Pocketing the gloves, he adjusts his clothes and fixes his hair in the reflective elevator door. "So, clearly, he trusts you."
"He doesn't know me anymore."
A shrug. "I guess he doesn't agree."
Jimin shakes his head, falling back against the wall, key card clutched tightly in his hand. He is starting to get cold in this skirt. "I… What is happening?"
Taehyung snorts a laugh and nudges him. "Don't think too hard about it. Just… be in the moment, yeah?"
Swallowing thickly, Jimin nods. "Right."
Too soon for his anxious heart, the elevator dings and the doors open, letting them onto the sixth and final floor. They walk together and finally get to the end of the hallway, where 'Presidential Suite - 613' is engraved on the door.
Jimin looks at Taehyung, who looks at him.
"Go on." Taehyung waves his hand.
The blonde's expression is exasperated. He mutters, "No way! I'm not just going to open the door."
"He gave you a key…"
"No way," Jimin repeats lowly, reaching out to knock twice on the door, quiet and polite.
No one comes to the door.
Taehyung gives him a look. "Jimin."
"Absolutely not." He knocks again—four firm knocks against the wood this time.
Another moment of waiting. Taehyung sighs, no doubt about to give his two cents again, when the door flies open and cool air rushes out.
Jung Hoseok is standing there, a glass of wine in one hand and a bright, sunny smile on his face. "Oh. Hello! I thought I heard the door."
Taehyung steps slightly in front of Jimin, already knowing the blonde is too shy to speak. He offers a flirty look and innocent head tilt, and his voice softens in a tone Jimin only hears when the brunette is trying to get his way, "Hey! Jeongguk invited us? We're old friends of his."
For proof, he grabs the key card from Jimin's hand and shows it to Hoseok, whose smile widens as he steps back, opening the door wider for them to enter. "Oh, yeah! Nice meeting you guys. He said you'd be stopping by. We're just having a little celebration. We like to chill together after the shows."
Taehyung walks inside first and takes Jimin's hand to make sure the blonde follows.
The suite is insane. Multiple rooms, a full-size kitchen to one side, and a lush living room on the other side. There are French doors leading out to a balcony, and doors for what Jimin can only assume are bathrooms or bedrooms—ones that are, no doubt, just as fancy.
Hoseok walks them into the living room, having a casual conversation with Taehyung. "Yeah, we're used to the late nights, though. Hey, guys, these are Jeongguk's friends. Everyone, say hi."
Jimin musters up the courage to look up from the floor and sees Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Jeongguk, and one other tall, handsome man that he doesn't recognize, all sitting around the sofas, drinking and talking.
All eyes go to Taehyung and Jimin. Instantly, Jimin's gaze finds Jeongguk, and he sees that the singer is already staring at him, eyes observant and dark, expression indecipherable.
"Hello, nice to meet you," Yoongi says in a low drawl. He has one leg crossed over the other and has traded in his edgy stage clothes for a soft-looking black shirt and grey sleep pants.
Namjoon is the next to talk. He actually stands and walks over, offering his hands for the two friends to shake, dimples on display. "Hi! I'm Namjoon. You both look so cool, wow."
Taehyung and Jimin return the handshake, and Taehyung greets him back, complimenting his outfit since the drummer hasn't changed quite yet. Namjoon waves him off and sits back down, refilling his glass of wine.
The man Jimin doesn't recognize stands up from the furthest couch in the room and waltzes over, offering his hand next. He is dressed in professional pants and a button-up, with an expensive watch on his wrist. His looks are fit for modeling, and his smile is just as handsome. "Hello to you both."
After shaking Jimin's hand, he does the same with Taehyung, saying, "You're Taehyung, then? I remember speaking with you. I'm glad you could make it to the show."
Oh, Jimin realizes. Seokjin, the manager.
"Absolutely! Thanks for hooking us up with tickets. The show was amazing."
Just like Namjoon, Seokjin waves off the thanks and goes to a dresser on the far wall. He gets glasses and another bottle of wine, pouring two drinks. As he does so, he explains, "Oh, don't thank me. I honestly don't deserve it. I'm usually quick to turn down people who ask to come to the show, but I always run it by the others if they say they know them. When I told Jeongguk who was asking, he told me to say yes. He was the one who wanted you guys to have front-row seats, too. He's the one you should thank."
Jimin and Taehyung glance over at the same time, expecting Jeongguk to still be sitting down on the center couch with his legs spread wide, arms laid back. But he is standing now, his own wine glass still in hand as he casually walks over to them. He has also abandoned his stage clothes and clearly showered—if his slightly wet hair and fresh smell are anything to go by—and is now dressed in regular jeans and a new button-up, and a different leather jacket from the one before. His jewelry is still on, and he has a slightly tired smile as he says, "I'm really happy you guys came."
Jimin purses his lips, glancing away, too shy for his own good. Every time he and Jeongguk make eye contact, he feels butterflies swirling in his stomach. So much in one night definitely can't be good for him.
Taehyung goes in for a handshake first, and Jeongguk accepts it. The brunette asks, "Thanks for having us. I know I already said, but it really was incredible. You guys are, like, crazy good at what you do."
"Thanks. That means a lot."
After the handshake, Jeongguk cracks a brighter smile and glances at Jimin, who does not offer his hand. It's not to be rude, but he feels like he's going to make a fool of himself if he moves an inch, so he can't risk it. Plus, his brain has him overthinking. Is he standing awkwardly? What if he does go in for a handshake, and Jeongguk wasn't expecting it, and Jimin ruins the moment? Is everyone staring at how weird he's being right now? They definitely are. Jeongguk thinks he's being a weirdo and probably regrets inviting him, and he's so going to ask for the room key back. Ugh.
Jeongguk slides back coolly and finally catches Jimin's gaze, his expression softening. "It's nice to see you, too, Jimin. It's been too long."
The blonde blushes like crazy at that. Wow, he's so fucked. Casting his gaze downward, he murmurs, "Yeah, it has been…"
Just then, thankfully, Seokjin comes over and hands them both their own glasses of wine. Quietly, they thank him and go as prompted over to one of the empty couches when Seokjin gestures for them to sit.
Jeongguk and Seokjin return to their spots too—Jeongguk on the couch with Yoongi, Seokjin between Hoseok and Namjoon. Jimin takes a tentative sip of the wine and resists making a sour face. Not very sweet, to most people's taste, but still too much for him. Not wanting to seem rude, he swallows it and holds the glass in his lap, not intending to drink anymore.
"So, you guys met in… high school?" Namjoon asks.
"Yep. Jimin and I had been friends since middle school, and then Jimin was the first to meet Jeongguk. During…" Taehyung looks to Jimin, searching for the memory, "Sophomore year, right? Math class, or something?"
"It was calculus, yeah," Jeongguk answers for him. Jimin's eyes find his. Jeongguk puts his drink down and stands, walking back to the dresser, which holds the glasses and various bottles of alcohol on top. He opens a new bottle of something different and pours it into a fresh glass, conversing, "Tae, didn't we meet a few months later at a party?"
"Oh, yeah, that's right," Taehyung says excitedly, snapping his fingers. "I dragged Jimin to a party one of the soccer players was having after finals, and you were there."
"I probably only showed up because the team pressured me," Jeongguk admits, walking over to them. Without a word, he gently takes Jimin's original glass from him and gives him the new one. Their eyes meet, and Jimin's brows are drawn together in confusion as his drink is switched. Jeongguk nods at him to taste it before walking away to put the discarded glass back on the dresser. "Those parties weren't ever my thing."
"Really?" Hoseok asks, laughing. "You had a whole party phase when we first started touring together. I never would've guessed."
Taehyung laughs too, getting comfortable on the couch by crossing his legs and sitting back. "Jeongguk was so shy when we were in school."
"No way," Namjoon says, shaking his head in disbelief.
Jimin is distracted by watching Jeongguk as the singer sits back down on the couch. He brings the new glass up to his lips and takes a small sip. Instantly, his brows shoot up in surprise, and he takes a proper drink from it. Not sweet at all. A little bitter, in fact—just how Jimin likes it.
Confused, he stares at Jeongguk. When the singer finally glances over at him, Jimin's brows furrow and he makes a face as if to say, "How did you know?"
Jeongguk's smile is soft. He nods to the drink in Jimin's hand for the second time, like he's saying, "Go on, drink it." He looks slightly amused, and the blush on the blonde's cheek travels down his neck as he takes another sip.
It... tastes amazing.
"Yes, way," Taehyung insists funnily, making Yoongi crack a smile. The guitarist keeps going from staring down at his drink to looking over at Taehyung, and Jimin can tell he's into his best friend. He hides his own smile at the realization, sort of in disbelief that Taehyung's delusions might actually work out. "He was painfully shy—basically only talked to Jimin."
Hoseok makes a teasing sound, grinning at Jeongguk when he says, "Awe. Gguk, you used to be adorable."
Jeongguk smiles back and flips off his bandmate, which makes Seokjin snort and Hoseok throw his head back in laughter.
"I didn't just talk to Jimin," Jeongguk tries to defend.
The person of interest, Jimin, sinks lower into the couch at the mention of his name, absently swirling the rim of his glass with his finger. The way Jeongguk says it… Something about it is different than how it sounds when other people say his name.
Taehyung gives him a look, pointing an accusatory finger. "You literally only said, like, ten sentences to me that first year we knew each other."
With an eye roll, Jeongguk playfully tells the brunette, "Yeah, right. I recall you being the one who didn't talk that much to me."
"Well, if that's true, it's only because I didn't want to get in the way of you and Jimin."
Jimin's eyes go wide, and he freezes in his seat, mortified.
Across the room, Jeongguk is quiet for a moment before glancing over at Jimin. Tilting his head, his eyes travel back to Taehyung, and he asks curiously, "How so? You were his friend, too."
At first, Jimin believes Taehyung just spoke without thinking. So, surely whatever he says next will recover the moment. It'll bring them back to the present and away from whatever almost-reveal happened.
But then a shit-eating grin spreads across Taehyung's face, and he looks between Jimin and Jeongguk with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Jimin's heart drops into his ass, because he's doing this on purpose.
"Well, sure I was, but I didn't want to get in the way of the crushes you both had on each other."
The room falls into silence. If a pin dropped, it would be audible.
Face red, Jimin holds a staring contest with the rug under his feet and refuses to break first. He can feel everyone's eyes on him.
After a long stretch of silence—the longest of Jimin's life—Jeongguk's smooth voice reaches him. "Fair enough."
Jimin's breath hitches and his head lifts. Dark eyes are already on him. Jeongguk doesn't shy away.
He didn't deny it. He…
Namjoon laughs, breaking the tense moment. Jimin looks over at him instead, and his chest instantly feels lighter. "You guys are hilarious. I had no idea about any of this. Jeonggukie doesn't talk too much about his life before the band started."
"How did it start?" Taehyung asks, changing the subject after throwing his best friend into the metaphorical fire of public humiliation. "I haven't heard the story."
Yoongi shrugs. "Hoseok, Namjoon, and I were all in college. We were already in a garage band, of sorts, with all three of us, but we needed a lead singer. Jeongguk's brother was friends with Namjoon, so we already knew him. Jeongguk came to one of our practices, and we asked him to sing a song for us, and he did."
"He was incredible," Hoseok added, shaking his head in amazement, like he still can't believe it after all these years. "Best voice we'd ever heard. We asked him right there to be in the band."
"He said no, at first," Namjoon explains. "He was about to start college and had his whole future mapped out. He said he didn't want to mess anything up, and we understood."
"So, what happened?" Taehyung asks, curious.
"I thought about it for a few days and then came back and told them I could do it temporarily—at least until school started," Jeongguk answers. Jimin naturally finds him again and finds that he is entranced by the way the lead singer's tattooed hand holds his glass, the way his thighs look spread out on the couch, the way his dark, messy hair looks under the low light. Jeongguk glances at him and then over to his bandmates. "I didn't have anything else going on at the time. So, we played together for a month or two, and I was supposed to start college, but… I just never left. I was having too much fun, and it felt like where I was supposed to be."
"We played for… a year?" Hoseok questions, making a thinking face as he tries to recall the distant memory. "And took off after that. A single we released on our first album really launched us."
"And then they hired me." Seokjin raises his glass, smiling at the band. "And I saved their hides and got them to the level of stardom they have now."
A chorus of grateful agreements follows his words, and it earns a soft smile from Jimin.
The conversation goes on for a while after that. The band explains the early years and the struggles they went through. Namjoon and Hoseok go back and forth about which album is their favorite, and Yoongi murmurs to them both to drink their wine and shut up because "We're always improving, so every new album is our best," which seems to do the trick.
Seokjin talks about the logistics of touring and the antics that go on during recording sessions. Jimin learns that Hoseok and Namjoon are the chatty ones, Yoongi and Seokjin talk more the longer they drink, and Jeongguk is relatively quiet no matter what, though he does smile more and his cheeks warm after his second glass of wine.
By midnight, they break off into different parts of the suite to continue talking. Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon find their way into the kitchen to make a late-night snack from random ingredients. Taehyung finds his way to Yoongi, and they have a quiet conversation in the living room.
At some point, Taehyung crosses the distance and sits beside the guitarist. He has that flirty look in his eyes, and Yoongi is hardly looking at him, but from what Jimin can tell, that's because he knows Taehyung is flirting and is maybe a bit more shy off-stage than on-stage. If that's the case, he is absolutely Taehyung's type, and Jimin is happy for them.
And… well, after the others split off, Jimin is still sitting on the couch, awkwardly nursing his half-empty drink, until socked feet and designer jeans come into his view and he glances up to find Jeongguk standing there, a hand out in offering and a soft, charming smile on his face. "Go to the balcony with me?"
Jimin breaks into a grin, accepts his hand, and is pulled to his feet. They both take their drinks, and Jeongguk leads them out to the balcony, hands clasped together until they pass through the French doors and step into the warm night air.
The view is incredible, overlooking the city, surrounded by dazzling lights that twinkle like stars. And Jeongguk looks good too; windswept, fluffy hair and clear skin, a soft flush on his face from the wine.
The lead singer looks over at him as they approach the railing and smiles. "I'm really happy you're here."
"Me too," Jimin admits, returning the look.
Jeongguk's gaze drops as he admires Jimin's outfit, all the way down to his exposed, porcelain legs. They linger for some time on the part where his skirt ends and his thick thighs begin. Jimin's fingers twitch around his glass, itching to pull the hem down. He likes Jeongguk looking at him, but he's self-conscious, because what if the singer is looking at him because he doesn't like what he sees?
Jimin thinks back to the note on the hotel card—the one stuffed into the secret pocket on the shorts under his skirt.
"You look incredible."
At first, Jimin thinks the words are coming from his mind—a perfect recitation of what was scribbled on the card—but then he realizes they were said out loud and came straight from the source. He stares at Jeongguk, lips parted but no sound escaping for a while.
Eventually, urged by the gentleness he finds in Jeongguk's eyes, he manages to mutter, "Thank you…"
Another stretch of silence.
Then Jeongguk drops another bomb, like he's trying to make the blonde speechless: "Taehyung was right, you know."
"What?"
"I did have a huge crush on you in high school," the singer admits like it's as simple as breathing. He looks out at the view. "I mean, how could I not? You were so funny and sweet. You were the first person who actually tried to talk to me, and you always tried so hard to make me feel included and important. I looked up to you and thought you were, like, the coolest person ever. It was honestly only a matter of time until I started liking you. I never told you, though, because I was afraid you wouldn't like me back. I thought I might ruin what we had, and I couldn't stand the thought of that, so I just…" He shrugs. "I never said anything."
Pursing his lips, Jimin takes the words in, heart hammering against his chest.
Jeongguk doesn't prompt him for a response, doesn't push him to acknowledge the admission—he just… stands there and lets the moment happen.
It's far from what Jimin would expect in a situation like this, but it's so Jeongguk, too—it's exactly what the boy he knew in high school would have done.
Comforted by that, Jimin finds it in himself to smile and admit quietly, "I had the same thought back then…"
He can feel it when the singer looks over at him.
"I had feelings for you—realized I was definitely gay because of you, and not bisexual or whatever I thought was going on at the time... But I thought it might push you away, so I kept it to myself." Jimin feels the weight he has been carrying on his shoulders lift the more he talks. "I was grateful for your friendship because it made me happy, and probably made me a better person. I really… missed it when we stopped talking."
Jeongguk turns to face him completely, drink wrapped in his tattooed hand but long forgotten. Somehow, Jimin manages to hold the stare and not look away two seconds later. There is a deep, introspective expression on the singer's face, as if he is thinking hard about something long past. "I missed it too. I really wish we hadn't stopped."
Jimin shrugs, smiling. "No reason we can't start again."
At that, the lead singer grins, big and bright, before biting down on his bottom lip and looking down, swirling the glass in his hand. "Yeah?"
"Mhm. I mean, I'd like it if we did again, at least…"
There's a pause, and then Jeongguk pushes off the railing, moving like he is going back inside. At first, Jimin feels his heart drop, thinking he has made a mistake. But then the black-haired man turns back and offers his hand again, an easygoing smile on his face. "Come on."
Hiding his own cheesy grin, Jimin takes his hand and follows him inside.
The door closes behind them with a quiet click, and they look around to find that most of the lights are now off and the rooms are empty—cleared out of all company.
Jeongguk stands in the middle of the hallway, confused. Jimin is the same, blinking at the empty couch where his best friend was just minutes ago.
"Where… did they go?" Jimin asks.
"No clue," Jeongguk offers as an answer, before taking Jimin's mostly empty glass and walking into the kitchen. He discards both of their drinks in the sink and calls out, "Do you want water?"
"Uh, I'm good. Thank you, though."
Jeongguk nods and leaves the kitchen, still glancing around the suite as he makes his way back to Jimin. "I guess they must've gone to their own rooms for the night."
"You guys aren't sharing the suite?" Jimin asks, baffled. The place is huge.
The lead singer huffs a laugh. "Uh, no. We rotate who gets it, and it's my turn. They're all staying in different rooms down the hall." Jeongguk does one last general look around the place. "No idea where Taehyung went, though."
"I have an idea…" Jimin mutters, already knowing the brunette worked his way into Yoongi's hotel room for the night.
Right on time, his phone chimes, and he lifts the side of his skirt—Jeongguk coughs and quickly spins on his heels, looking away, despite Jimin wearing tiny shorts underneath—and pulls out his phone. Unlocking it, Jimin sees a text from his best friend.
From: Taehyung
Got everyone to clear out for the night and now I'm in Yoongi's room ;) Let me know if you need me, pookie
Another chime.
From: Taehyung
Though something tells me that Jeongguk's got that covered for the night hahahahaha
Jimin's cheeks go crimson, and he quickly pockets his phone, clearing his throat.
"Was that, uh, Taehyung?" Jeongguk asks.
"Y-Yeah. He's fine. Apparently, he's hanging out with Yoongi."
"Oh?"
"Mhm."
"Hm. Good, then. I hope they have fun," Jeongguk surmises, seemingly not interested beyond knowing Taehyung is okay. He offers his hand for the third time tonight, and for the third time tonight, Jimin takes it without question.
The singer walks them across the suite and down a short hallway with his free hand in his pocket. Jimin stares at his broad back the whole time, pulse jumping. He knows where this must be going, and as nervous as he is, he's ready for it. The adrenaline of this whole night is still coursing through him; the rush of the show, of seeing Jeongguk—and the wine in his veins is helping him not overthink this as much as he usually might. He's not drunk, but he has certainly loosened up.
They make it to a door near the back of the suite, and Jeongguk opens it, letting Jimin inside first—their hands part, and the blonde steps inside what is a decently sized, fancy hotel bedroom. The main light is off, but a few mood lights and a lamp are on. That, plus the suitcase in the corner and the same leather jacket Jeongguk wore during the show being slung over the back of an armchair, tells Jimin that this is definitely Jeongguk's room.
He clasps his hands together in front of his body and takes in the space, noting the smell of fresh linen and something floral.
There are a lot of things he could have said—lots of things he could have done.
But what Jimin chooses is to turn around so he is facing the singer. Jeongguk is still by the door, one hand on the knob, the other down by his side, flexing and un-flexing like he doesn't quite know what to do with it.
The lights are lower in here. The room is smaller. It's just the two of them.
"What prompted you to switch my drink?" is what Jimin asks.
Taking a step forward, Jeongguk's tattooed hand falls from the door. "I saw the face you made at the wine Seokjin gave you. I remember you didn't like sweet foods or drinks, so I figured that must've stayed the same. Got you a drink that wasn't sweet instead."
The blonde feels those butterflies in his abdomen again. Or is it arousal? It's hard to tell. The way Jeongguk is looking at him—like he wants—is sort of blurring the lines. It's distracting in the best way.
"You… remember something like that?"
Jeongguk takes another step and then another, until he is standing right in front of Jimin, half-blocking the soft sconce light by the door. There's a glow cast around him. He looks like he stepped right out of a dream.
With soft eyes and softer words, Jeongguk tenderly admits, "I remember everything. I never forgot you, Jimin."
Overcome with emotion, courage spiked by wine and adrenaline, Jimin takes his own step forward and has to tilt his head up to hold eye contact with someone who practically towers over him. When did he get so tall anyway?
The singer's gaze falls to Jimin's soft, plump lips. The blonde's lip gloss has faded since it was put on almost five hours ago, but he knows his mouth is nice to look at, so he doesn't shy away. Instead, he asks, low, "Is this just a thing you do? Invite people to your hotel room after a show, give them a drink, and show them to your room?"
Jeongguk reaches up and brushes a strand of Jimin's hair back, moving it off his forehead. He admires the blonde's face and shakes his head, slow and assured. In a tone just as gentle, he answers, "No. I don't."
Jimin is quiet, appraising him. He likes Jeongguk. He wants to be here. But he doesn't want to be sold a lie or made a fool. So, he waits.
"Sure," Jeongguk admits, calm as ever. "Obviously, I've been with people. But it's usually someone random at a bar, or a fling I meet online. I don't usually like it when people know me, you know? There's a power imbalance there that feels… weird."
"Is this weird?"
"No," Jeongguk reassures with an airy laugh. He smiles at Jimin, and it softens the longer he looks at the blonde. Dark eyes fall to red lips again. "Definitely not. You've known me longer than even the band has. This is…different. You're different."
Their gazes meet again when Jeongguk's eyes lift. "Is this… making you uncomfortable?"
Jimin's head shake is slow and sure. He whispers, "No."
Jeongguk's eyes fall again, like he keeps being pulled there. One hand hesitates only for a second before coming up to cup the side of Jimin's face. The lead singer's fingers are calloused from playing instruments, but they are also warm and gentle. Jimin leans into the touch, staring up at him. A thumb runs along the blonde's cheekbone, then dips down, finding his bottom lip. Jeongguk bites down on his own, mesmerized as he watches his own thumb rub over Jimin's thick, pink mouth.
"Can I kiss you?"
Jimin is already leaning in when he mutters, "Yes."
Eyes slipping closed, their mouths find one another and lock together perfectly. The singer's hand slides back, leaving room for him to kiss Jimin fully—passionately.
Jeongguk tastes like spearmint gum and sweet wine, and for once, Jimin doesn't mind the taste.
The singer melts them into the kiss, leaning in further and stepping closer, urging Jimin back until he collides with a wall. At the last second, one of Jeongguk’s hands slips around Jimin’s waist, tugging him close. His other hand slides onto the wall beside Jimin’s head, steadying them.
The kiss isn’t rushed but deep and sensual. Jeongguk takes his time parting his lips and kissing Jimin over and over and over. The blonde feels heat rushing to his cheeks as he grabs onto the open front edges of Jeongguk’s jacket like any part of him can be a rescue tube that prevents Jimin from drowning right now.
Jeongguk’s head tilts to the side, and Jimin moves the other way on instinct, allowing the kiss to deepen. A groan escapes the singer, and Jimin feels the heat he’s feeling suddenly drop to his abdomen.
“You,” Jeongguk breathes out between kisses, voice heady, “are so gorgeous.”
A sharp inhale. “So are you.”
The singer breaks off for just a second to look down at Jimin. His pupils are blown wide, cheeks flushed. Jimin knows he looks the same. A glimmer of something mischievous and excited sparkles in Jeongguk’s charming eyes. His gaze drops to the blonde’s lips before darting back up. “I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since Seokjin told me you were coming to the show.”
Jimin is too bashful for eye contact, so he looks away when he softly admits, “I’ve thought of you too…”
There’s a shift as Jeongguk’s hand slips down from the wall. Fingers gently grab Jimin’s chin, and the singer brings his face back up. Their gazes meet once more. Jeongguk matches Jimin’s whispered pitch. “Yeah?”
A tiny nod.
“I’m curious…” Jeongguk gives him a once-over, and his lips turn up at one end. Then, he starts leaning in again for another kiss and mutters, “To see how long you keep up the shy act for.”
A retort forms on Jimin’s tongue, but Jeongguk’s mouth is connecting to his again, and the response dies in the same moment. Jimin falls against the wall and kisses back with just as much intention and eagerness.
Jeongguk bites down on Jimin’s plump bottom lip, and Jimin parts his mouth with a gasp of pleasure. In the next second, the singer’s warm, wet tongue is slipping in.
Jimin moans, letting Jeongguk explore his mouth for a bit before tangling their tongues, enjoying the minty taste and warmth. Jeongguk smells so good up close like this, too; sandalwood and something floral.
The hotel room was freezing when he walked in, but now Jimin is overheating.
Jeongguk’s bigger hands cup around Jimin’s, and he guides the blonde to let go of his jacket, but only so he can bring Jimin’s hands up and around the back of his neck instead. Without hesitation, Jimin’s hands slip up into Jeongguk’s soft hair. He threads his fingers through and scratches gently at his scalp, and Jeongguk groans right into his open mouth, urging the blonde to do it again, and Jimin does.
Before he can think, Jeongguk is leaning down and—without breaking off the kiss—he cups his hands around Jimin’s plush, bare thighs and picks him up.
A startled gasp escapes Jimin, and it’s instantly replaced with a whimper as Jeongguk adjusts, slipping one hand down to hold him up by his ass instead. The contact makes sparks dance up Jimin’s spine. He can feel the tension on the front fabric of his underwear as he starts to get hard—and all they’ve done is kiss.
Keeping him close, Jeongguk blindly walks them deeper into the hotel suite. His arms don’t strain a single time, and he keeps kissing Jimin with ease, like he weighs nothing.
Jimin’s brain fogs. He’s never been this turned on before. Is this how sex is supposed to be?
When Jeongguk finally breaks off the kiss, it’s in favor of ducking his head down and planting sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on Jimin’s neck. In the wake of each one, the blonde man’s skin cools as the air-conditioned room and fresh spit mix over his sensitive skin. And after each one, he can’t help a tiny sound that escapes from high in his throat.
More gently than he expects, Jimin is laid down on a cloud-like bed with silk sheets that work to cool his hot skin even through his clothes.
There are no awkward pauses, no hesitations. Jeongguk shifts to start peppering more kisses onto the other side of his neck, and Jimin tilts his jaw up to grant more access, toying with strands of the singer’s hair.
“Can I leave marks?” Jeongguk asks, velvety smooth, not coming up from the blonde’s throat.
Jimin’s dick fully chubs up in his pants at the question. He usually hates marks after sex. When he looks in the mirror, it’s a blemish he wants to cover, a reminder of something he did in a moment of vulnerability.
But right now, the thought of Jeongguk marking his skin, the thought of looking in the mirror and getting a reminder of this—of him?
“Yes.”
Jimin’s eyes flutter closed as the singer immediately starts making a deep mark into a sensitive spot just under the side of his jaw. He uses the fact that his arms are wrapped around Jeongguk to tug him closer, desperate for more. A high-pitched whine leaves him, and Jeongguk makes a low humming sound in response. Without words, it communicates so much; he knows what Jimin is feeling, and he’s enjoying even the simplicity of being the one to make him react this way.
Then, Jeongguk comes up, and their eyes meet. For a moment, they stare, observing one another. Jeongguk’s hair is a mess from Jimin’s insistent hands; his silver necklace is dangling off his neck, catching the warm lamplight, and his face is still flushed. He looks unreal—too attractive for peering eyes.
The singer looks him over just as much as they both pant, trying to catch their breath. Whatever he sees there, he must enjoy it, because Jeongguk looks slightly awed. Jimin knows how he feels.
Biting down on his bottom lip, Jeongguk doesn’t look away as he reaches down and gently pushes up the fabric of Jimin’s shirt, tugging the ends of the button-up out of his skirt. One-handed, Jeongguk undoes the few buttons that were clasped, and Jimin's breath hitches. Massive, warm hands roam the blonde’s soft stomach and drift up to his chest, and Jimin lets him do it, swollen lips pursed to suppress any sounds that may try to escape.
Fingers brush over his nipples at the same time, and Jimin’s fingers curl into the silk sheets by his head. Jeongguk is studying him, eager for a reaction.
“You’re making me insane,” he confesses.
Jimin’s swallow is thick. Jeongguk uses two fingers on either side of his nipples to roll the buds, hardening them with little effort and teasing him.
“How so?”
Jeongguk shifts so he’s kneeling on the bed, his legs spread, the backs of Jimin’s thighs propped up on top of his own. Jimin feels exposed this way—a prize on display. A head shake, causing black strands to fall onto his forehead. “Everything about you. Your voice. Your cute little outfit. The way you’re looking at me right now.”
The flush in Jimin’s cheeks spreads down his neck and chest and colors the tips of his ears. “I’m not trying to do that stuff on purpose.”
“I know.” A huff of laughter, a flash of a charming smile. Jeongguk pinches one of his nipples, and Jimin bites back a sound. In the blink of an eye, Jeongguk’s touch is gone, and he’s lifting Jimin’s shirt higher, requesting that it come off. Leaning up as best as he can in this position, the blonde lets the singer strip it off of him. It’s tossed behind Jeongguk—thrown haphazardly onto the floor. His back meets the bed and dark eyes roam his porcelain, bare skin. There’s a hunger in Jeongguk’s gaze when he leans down for another kiss, muttering, “That’s why it’s driving me crazy.”
Their mouths lock together once more, and another dance of tangled tongues and swapped spit begins. Jimin arches his back, desperate for more contact. With Jeongguk’s hands touching all over his sides, waist, and chest, he feels empowered to let his own roam. He plays with the singer’s hair, caresses his muscular arms through the rough jacket fabric, and travels lower to get a sense of exactly how firm Jeongguk’s chest and abs are—the answer, it turns out, is practically rock solid.
Smirking, Jeongguk lets him do as he wants and only pulls away long enough to discard his jacket. His shirt goes next, and when he leans up to take that off, muscles flexing, tattoos on display, necklaces dropping back down onto his clavicle—Jimin’s mouth literally falls open.
The lighting is dim, but the blonde's focus is zeroed in. He traces every line of Jeongguk’s upper body with his eyes, and when the singer dives back down to kiss him again, Jimin begins mapping with his hands too.
Jeongguk moans when he lowers his body so they’re practically flush with one another, and Jimin follows with a high sound of his own. Their bare skin feels incredible pressed together—almost as good as the way Jeongguk’s hard, clothed cock feels against Jimin’s own.
The singer props himself up with one arm by the blonde’s head and the other goes straight to Jimin’s hip, holding him hard through his skirt. One of Jeongguk’s legs straightens out, pushing their crotches closer, and with his hand on the blonde, Jeongguk starts rocking himself down, creating friction.
“O-Oh,” Jimin gasps, eyes opening only to cross slightly as they start rolling back. His mouth falls open, and Jeongguk draws back, pressing their foreheads together.
“Fuck, you sound amazing.”
Without thinking, the blonde bites down on his plump lower lip, holding back a whimper at the grinding. The action taunts Jeongguk into caging around him with the arm at his head while he brings his other hand up to squeeze either side of Jimin’s face. It’s gentle, all things considered, but his thumb and fingers pressing into Jimin’s cheeks force the blonde to release his lower lip. Jeongguk scolds him with a soft “Don’t.”
Their noses brush together. Jimin’s eyes fall shut again, a tiny whine passing his lips as the singer shifts to grind down harder. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”
Jimin’s helpless to do anything else. The pleasure is immense and welcomed, so he takes it, rocking back against the singer in short, compulsory movements. Jeongguk claims his mouth again, and Jimin is the one to lazily shove his tongue in this time, exploring languidly, letting Jeongguk suck and lick and kiss him how he wants.
Everything feels good. His brain starts to fuzz around the edges. At some point, Jeongguk starts playing with Jimin’s chest again, and the blonde has the mind to do the same to him. The second he gently rubs over one of Jeongguk’s nipples, the singer makes a low, startled sound that turns into a breathless moan. His hand flies up, covering Jimin’s. For a moment, the blonde freezes, thinking he crossed a line, but then Jeongguk presses his hand down flat over his chest, encouraging him to stay there. Turned on, Jimin rubs again, and Jeongguk kisses him hard, making the hottest noises the blonde has ever heard.
It’s amazing. It’s perfect. And then it’s suddenly not enough—not for either of them.
Making a frustrated sound, Jimin reaches down and hooks his fingers in the waistband of Jeongguk’s pants, his request obvious in the way he tugs. Jeongguk’s laugh is airy and sexy.
“Impatient,” he states, but still moves back and off the bed, starting on his belt first. A much-needed rush of cold air wafts over Jimin, and he leans up on his forearms, watching as the singer yanks his belt loose, letting it drop on either side. Messily, he works on the buttons and zipper of his pants, and that’s when Jimin glances up, and their eyes meet. Jeongguk’s brow shoots up. “Eager, too.”
Shamelessly, Jimin’s eyes drop back down, and he doesn’t even bother to disagree. It earns him another laugh. Jeongguk strips off his pants and underwear in one motion, leaving them on the floor by the bed.
Jimin’s breath hitches. Jeongguk’s small waist bleeds into thick thighs, and his V-line leads down to a thick, long cock which bobs up, hard and big—the biggest Jimin has ever seen. It dwarfs any toy he owns.
As the singer approaches, there is so much Jimin wants to pay attention to, but all he can look at is Jeongguk’s dick—all he can imagine is how it could fit inside of him, what it could make him feel.
Hands grab Jimin’s waist, and Jeongguk pulls him down to the edge of the bed, then guides him to lift his hips and legs so the singer can strip him of his skirt and underwear. He’s calling Jimin impatient, but it’s clear the feeling is mutual. Jimin's phone is also tossed aside, along with the hotel key Taehyung handed back to him earlier, but those things are the least of his concerns right now.
Once the last stitch of clothing is off, Jimin is left hard and on display. He leans up on the mattress, blonde hair falling into his face, looking at Jeongguk as the singer drinks him in.
Planting a knee on the bed and leaning over him, Jeongguk’s hands find the blonde’s bare thighs, trail up his hips, around his stomach, then back down. Jimin’s own cock is resting against his abdomen, pulsing with nearly every other caress. He leans into each touch, trying to get attention where he wants it, but Jeongguk ignores him on purpose, teasing him relentlessly.
"Had half a mind to leave the skirt on."
Jimin's dick twitches. "You could've."
Jeongguk's jaw locks and unlocks as he continues staring at the blonde, like he's picturing it. "Next time."
Next time. Jimin feels his chest tighten at the possibility.
“You’re so pretty, Jimin.” It’s quiet and earnest, even more genuine than the initial compliment he gave—the one about him being gorgeous. This feels closer to something real, something lasting.
Jimin’s fingers dig into the sheets. “Thank you.”
A smile graces the singer’s face. He hums and dips down, still sweetly touching Jimin when he gives him a tiny kiss, before saying, “You’re being so good for me, too; polite, responsive. What more could I ask for, hm?”
With the blonde whimpering, their lips meet in another kiss, this one longer and deeper. And this time, when the singer pulls away, it’s to back off the bed again and say, “Oh, I have an idea, actually. Why don’t you turn over for me, baby? Face down, ass up.”
Jimin’s eyes widen a fraction in surprise at the forward position so early on. His cheeks redden, and he hesitates, only for a second. That’s such an exposing position to be in.
Jeongguk must be able to tell exactly what he’s thinking, because he cups Jimin’s face and kisses him once more, reassuring, “You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I won’t be upset. There are plenty of other positions I’d love to put you in.”
But that’s enough to convince Jimin. His dick twitches at the words, and he gains the confidence to plant his own kiss on Jeongguk’s mouth and start sitting up to turn over. “No. I want to.”
And so he does. Jeongguk gives him space and watches—Jimin can feel the gaze on him as he turns around and plants his knees against the bed before dropping his lower half down. Cheek pressing into the sheets, Jimin fists the silk at either side of his head and stares at a wall with a painting on it. His back arches, and he fully displays everything to Jeongguk.
Behind him, there’s a sharp inhale. Then, Jimin feels Jeongguk get back on the bed, massive hands on his lower back, sliding down his hip. Before he knows it, Jeongguk has both hands over the fat of Jimin’s ass, and he’s squeezing it, groaning at the sight in front of him.
Biting his lip, Jimin feels precum drip out of his tip at the thought of what he must look like right now.
“Every time I think you can’t make this any harder on me, you do something to prove me wrong.”
“Hm?” Jimin questions, confused.
“You keep getting sexier, Jimin. That’s what I’m saying.” Shifting happens behind him. Jeongguk’s voice drops lower. “I’m going to eat you out now, okay?”
A squeak escapes the blonde, and he freezes, protests sitting on his lips as he begins blurting out, “H-Huh? But, t-that’s—It’s—”
Jeongguk pauses, too. Jimin can literally feel his hot breath against the side of his ass. “What? Do you not want me to?”
“I—Of course, I do, but…”
“Then, what’s wrong?”
“N-Nothing, I guess…” Jimin’s eyes squeeze shut. He pushes back old memories. “But don’t you think it’s… dirty?”
“Did you clean yourself before coming here?”
“Yeah,” Jimin squeaks, embarrassed at even admitting he took a shower and prepared, as though he knew this was going to happen. Which, he didn’t… but he knew it was a possibility, at least, no matter how delusional he thought Taehyung was being. He just—he likes to be ready for things, okay? That's not a crime…
“So, what’s the holdup?” Jeongguk asks simply. “It’ll feel good, and I want to make you feel good. There’s nothing more to it.”
To emphasize his point, the singer caresses up and down the back of one of his thighs, clearly trying to relax him and put his mind at ease.
And it works. Left without any other reason to say no and really, really wanting it, Jimin ducks his face into the sheets and mumbles, “Okay. You can… do it…”
An earnest huff of laughter leaves Jeongguk, bell-like and bright. He kisses the side of Jimin’s ass and mutters, “So fucking sweet. I’m going to make sure you come just from my tongue before this is over.”
Jimin’s eyes fly open with a gasp just in time to feel a long, hot stripe of Jeongguk’s tongue licking right over his hole. “O-Oh, God.”
He holds onto the bedsheets for dear life and gasps, trying not to squirm as the singer licks over and around his entrance, teasing him. He circles it, saliva dripping onto Jimin. Jeongguk—as Jimin has discovered in the past thirty minutes or so—is fantastic with his tongue. A little too good, even, because the blonde is already making whiny, pitched noises before he’s even put his tongue inside.
Jeongguk drags it out, licking right over Jimin’s hole and acting like he’s finally going to put it in, before pulling back. Then, he does something Jimin wasn’t expecting and puts his whole mouth on him, sucking and licking, his nose pressing against Jimin, breathing hot on the blonde’s most sensitive area.
“Shit,” Jimin drags out, unable to stop himself from arching his back impossibly deeper and rocking back against the singer’s mouth.
And Jeongguk laughs. It’s sexy and draws him back from the blonde for just a moment, but a moment is too long. Jimin whines and reaches back with one arm, blindly searching until his hand finds Jeongguk’s messy black hair. He threads his fingers through and lightly tugs, pleading, “Ah, please.”
Another laugh, but the singer goes willingly, his mouth finding Jimin’s wet, winking entrance again. He continues kissing and licking and rimming, until eventually Jimin makes another pathetic, begging sound. That’s when Jeongguk mutters, “Beg, Jimin. Ask me for it.”
“Why should I have to ask? You’re the one who said you were going to make me come on your tongue, and you haven’t even given it to me yet,” he pouts, petulant.
"Knew the shyness was an act." He can feel it when Jeongguk smirks, continuing to rim him lazily, tongue dipping every so often—offering just enough pressure to make the blonde think he’s finally going to slip in, before he pulls away again. “Mm. You want it so bad, though. You haven’t stopped moving your hips, and I’ve barely touched you. Come on, baby. Tell me what you want, and I’ll let you have it.”
And as ashamed as Jimin might usually be to quite literally be on his knees, begging for something from a man, he’s way too horny and into Jeongguk to continue with these games. So, he tucks his face into the mattress and—half-muffled—pleads, “I want your tongue inside…”
“Please?”
“...Please.”
For all the teasing Jeongguk does, he stops messing with Jimin after that. True to his word, he hums and presses his face into Jimin again, mumbling, “Good boy.”
A shiver runs down Jimin’s spine and his dick pulses with need. He didn’t think Jeongguk’s voice could get nicer than when he’s on stage singing, but being praised by him in that low tone is easily the sexiest thing the blonde has ever heard. He feels like he’s riding high, surfing on a wave that will eventually have to crash into the shore.
But for now, Jeongguk is rimming him again, and then Jimin feels pressure at his entrance, and that’s all that matters, because the moment the singer’s thick, warm tongue begins to press in, Jimin swears he’ll never forget this feeling. Jeongguk’s hands are huge and firm, grabbing onto either side of the blonde’s ass and holding him open as he begins rocking his tongue in and out steadily, stretching Jimin around it and getting him adjusted to the sensation.
Biting down on his lip, Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, a line forming between his brows as he shifts his hips back, wanting more of that addictive feeling, wanting more of Jeongguk’s warmth.
Jeongguk is a giver, as Jimin learns, because once he starts, he keeps going and going and going. His tongue swirls inside of Jimin, licking and shifting. He rubs against Jimin’s tight rings of muscle and maps out his walls; he shoves his tongue in deeper and deeper until his nose is buried into Jimin’s ass and he’s groaning with the effort. Saliva is all over them both at the place they meet, causing wet, lewd squelching sounds every time Jeongguk rocks his tongue in and out. And when he starts moving his mouth, too—
“A-Ah. Oh, fuck,” Jimin moans, sweat beading on his forehead as he moves his hips back, practically fucking himself on Jeongguk’s tongue. It widens the deeper he gets inside, and Jimin is addicted to the stretch, addicted to the singer's calm hum as Jimin whimpers, searching for more.
Within just a few minutes, Jeongguk is full-on eating Jimin out, and the blonde is withering on the bed, head buried into silk as his hair mats to his forehead and he moans endlessly, legs quivering, unable to stop himself from squirming at nearly every touch. The singer is making absurd sounds with his mouth as he sucks around Jimin’s rim and fucks him on his tongue, squeezing the fat of his ass with one hand. By now, the other hand has slipped up to Jimin’s hip, and Jeongguk is gripping him hard, guiding how Jimin rocks back, determining how much he lets the blonde get away with doing.
Jimin’s body is overheating, and his pulse is so fast, he’s wet in more ways than one and so, so hard, cock hanging heavily between his legs as Jeongguk alters his perspective on life with just the movements of his tongue.
“Tell me how it feels, Jimin,” Jeongguk tells him, voice muffled. A lewd squelching sound follows as he mouths around Jimin’s hole again, and the blonde cries out, legs getting wobbly to the point where he thinks he might not be able to hold his knees up for much longer.
“S-So good,” Jimin confesses like it isn’t obvious. “Please.”
Just then, Jeongguk pulls a dirty move and swirls his tongue, then presses it into Jimin and slurps, and the blonde’s legs give out. Without missing a beat, the singer wraps his arms around Jimin, holding him at the front of his thighs and along his hips, keeping him steady and in place. In the middle of continuing to eat him out, Jeongguk tells him, “Come on, baby. A little longer for me. Stay right here.”
Jimin’s whine is pitched and perplexed. “Can’t.”
“Hm, yes, you can,” Jeongguk tells him, gently stroking over his soft skin with his thumb. He licks a stripe over Jimin’s entrance again. The singer’s voice pitches down. “Come on. Just focus on coming for me, okay? That’s all I need you to do right now.”
Tension leaves Jimin’s shoulders. He sinks deeper into the mattress, inundated by pleasure.
“There you go.” One of Jeongguk’s hands slips down the curve of Jimin’s arched back while the other steadies him by his hips. And that’s really what is overwhelming him because Jeongguk’s arm is right over Jimin’s dick, finally giving him some pressure. It’s nothing compared to what he needs—nothing like what he wants.
He squirms, simultaneously trying to get Jeongguk’s tongue deeper once it’s shoved back in, and trying to get pressure applied to his ignored, throbbing cock. Nothing works, and all Jeongguk’s keeping him in place grants him is overwhelming pleasure inside and the constant, desperate need for more outside. It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s—
Jimin can’t think anymore. His mind blanks and he stops paying attention to what Jeongguk isn’t letting him have, and focuses more on what he is; non-stop, rough thrusting his tongue in and out, swirling his tongue, burying deeper inside until his face is pressed into Jimin’s skin, licking and slurping and touching all over—
“Oh my god,” Jimin sobs.
And Jeongguk, for his part, knows what this is doing to Jimin. Every so often, when the blonde attempts to shift his hips a bit too much, the singer’s hand grips down harder—his touch sure to leave bruises—preventing Jimin from getting what he wants. And if that’s not a tell, Jeongguk’s occasional smirks and condescending hums of acknowledgment certainly are.
The pressure is building, and Jimin knows it’s inevitable. He starts to feel it getting closer when Jeongguk moves his tattooed hand back to the blonde’s ass and squeezes hard, sending sparks throughout Jimin’s entire body. His hot body suddenly gets icy hot—almost tricking him into thinking he’s cold. That’s when his dick pulses and he cries out, mumbling incoherent pleas and swears.
His whole body shakes and then goes completely still as that final bout of pressure builds and builds and builds—
Jeongguk groans loudly against his ass, and it vibrates against Jimin, and that’s the last little push that the blonde needs to send him careening off the edge. His orgasm hits with an intensity he isn’t sure he’s felt before, and tears slip from his eyes as sobs and shouts overcome him, body quivering head-to-toe as ropes of hot, thick cum shoot out from his cock and spill all over Jeongguk’s arm and the fancy sheets below. All the while, Jeongguk continues fucking him with his tongue, coaxing Jimin through it and then sending him right into oversensitivity.
By the time the blonde is numb and whining, trying to pull away from him, Jeongguk finally breaks away. Cold air swooshes over Jimin’s body, and he falls onto the bed, knees and thighs aching with the effort of staying tense for so long.
Jeongguk remains behind him, gently caressing his back and down his legs, panting with Jimin as the blonde recovers from his orgasm. His touches are deceptively sweet now, given the way he just held onto Jimin. But it’s the perfect one-eighty, and Jimin hums over and over between sniffles, satiated and exhausted.
His body feels heavy and sweaty. It shocks him when there is shifting on the bed, followed by peppered, soft kisses being laid on his shoulders. Then, down his spine, to his ass, and all the way to his thighs. Jeongguk takes his time, touching him and kissing him. Jimin basks in the sensation and lets himself rest for a long while.
It must be several minutes later when Jeongguk finally comes to rest next to him. He lies on his side, petting through Jimin’s hair. The blonde can’t muster up the energy to open his eyes and look at him right now.
The singer’s voice is quiet and smooth when he asks, “How did that feel?”
Jimin wants to snort at him, but he huffs instead. “You know.”
His face is half-buried in the sheets when he makes the sassy remark, but Jeongguk still manages to understand it. He laughs, “Maybe I do, but I want to hear it from you.”
The hand petting through Jimin’s tangled, sweat-soaked hair feels so nice. He hums. “Felt good.”
Jeongguk does snort. Jimin can hear his smile. “Yeah?”
“Mhm. Very good.”
“I told you I’d make you come.”
Jimin cracks his one smile. “Mm. Shut up.”
This time, when the singer laughs again, Jimin finally opens his eyes. Blinking them open, he focuses his vision, and what he finds is the most handsome man he’s ever seen, leaning on a muscular arm and staring down at him—a fond look on his face—appearance disheveled, pupils blown wide.
For a while, they look at each other. Even after their smiles soften and they’re left just openly admiring, it’s not awkward. The room is warm, the bed is nice, and this is incredible.
Jeongguk’s hand slips down to cup Jimin’s face. His thumb strokes over soft, supple skin. “What do you want to do now? Go to bed? Shower? Order room service? Name it, and it’s yours.”
Jimin’s heart tightens. His gaze drops down the line of Jeongguk’s toned body. Between his legs, his slowly softening cock—big enough to still be lying heavy between his legs. Nevertheless, Jimin’s mouth waters at the sight, and he directs his gaze back up to the singer’s face, suddenly rejuvenated. “I want you to fuck me.”
Jeongguk’s lips part and his eyebrows shoot up. He stares at Jimin, and his reaction makes the blonde realize his own brazenness.
He clamps a hand over his own mouth. “I-I mean—If that’s—If you want to do that, too. Sorry, that was really crass—”
The singer laughs, loud and honest. At first, Jimin is horrified, thinking he’s moved to the point of no return as far as embarrassment goes, but then Jeongguk reaches out and gently takes his wrists in hand, getting Jimin to stop covering his flushed face. “No, don’t—Fuck, don’t apologize. I thought it was hot. I just—You started acting really cute after. Sorry for laughing.”
Bodies tangled together with all their shifting, Jimin winds up half under Jeongguk. He looks up at the singer and finds Jeongguk smiling back at him. Though his expression softens to something more sincere when he asks, “Are you sure you want to keep going? There’s no pressure to do anything else. I’m very happy with what we've done already.”
The crimson color on Jimin’s cheeks deepens. “I—Me too, but… I want to.”
“Hm…” Jeongguk studies his face for a long while, as if debating something. Then, his eyes dart down the blonde’s body, and he bluntly says, “Okay. We’ll keep going, then. Tell me something, Jimin… How many times in a row can you come?”
A squeak of “What?”
Jeongguk looks right at him and repeats, “How many times in a row can you come?”
“Like… three? I don’t know. I’ve only tried a few times…”
The singer nods and sits up. “Okay. Stay right here, alright? I’ll be back in a second. I’m going to go grab some lube and a condom."
Jimin's flush travels down his neck at the mention of condoms. It's really happening. Very soon, Jeongguk is going to be inside of him—with more than just his tongue.
Sensitive or not, he shifts his hips down, rocking into the bed as the singer gets up and walks—still stark naked in all his tattooed, muscular glory—to the other side of the suite. The friction is sweet and too much at the same time, and Jimin bites down on his plump bottom lip, imagining what's to come.
Luckily, before he knows it, Jeongguk is back and climbing onto the bed, knees sunk into the soft sheets, slowly hardening cock on display, hanging heavy between his legs.
Jimin shifts to lie on his back, wanting to get a good look at the singer.
Under stage lights, he's devilishly handsome and shiny. Here, he's still handsome, obviously, but there is something softer about this. It reminds Jimin of the innocent, two-word-at-a-time Jeongguk that he used to know. It's real.
Jeongguk isn't privy to his stares, Jimin thinks, because he's too busy opening a bottle of lube that's mostly full and then capping it closed, warming what he dripped into one hand with his fingers. But then, without looking over at him through his dark hair whilst stretching over the edge of the bed to put the lube on the nightstand, Jeongguk asks, "What're you staring at, hm?"
Caught, Jimin's blush extends down to his chest, but he quietly admits, "You're hot."
The singer cracks a smile and glances over at the blonde. "You are, too."
Without another word, Jeongguk adjusts their positions until Jimin's legs are spread, feet planted on the bed, the singer is between his legs, his shadow over him. One big difference between Jeongguk back then and Jeongguk now is that he is not shy. He shamelessly drinks in Jimin's naked body and doesn't veer away from eye contact as he continues warming the lube on his fingers.
Jimin grips the sheets by his head and worries his bottom lip, admiring Jeongguk in return. His sun-kissed, chiseled skin looks gorgeous in the lamplight. Jimin makes every effort to commit the sight to memory.
He becomes distracted from doing so when Jeongguk's hands start moving. With one hand, he gently holds Jimin's legs apart, gripping one knee. With the other, he travels between the blonde's legs until Jimin gasps—rough, wet fingers at his entrance.
Jeongguk lifts a brow. It's a silent question but a clear one. Jimin nods in return.
With as much care and delicacy as he can, the singer starts rubbing one finger around his tight rim. Then, testing the waters, he presses inside. Easily, it slips halfway in, then a bit further and a bit further. In no time, one of the singer's long, thick fingers is deep inside Jimin, to the point where Jeongguk's knuckles are brushing his ass.
Slipping the hand on Jimin's knee down to knead the soft fat of his sensitive inner thigh, Jeongguk rocks his finger in and out. The drag is slow and deep, and the blonde hums, eyes fluttering at the familiar feeling. The singer takes his time and seems an expert in the field, coaxing Jimin's hole to stretch and relax by rubbing along the walls, or shifting the angle of his steady thrusts. He doesn't try for his prostate, doesn't rush to get him loose—he focuses on Jimin, as though he gets as much pleasure out of this process as the blonde does.
And that turns Jimin on more than the finger up his ass does. By the time Jeongguk has stretched him enough to fit in a second one comfortably, Jimin is fully hard again—cock heavy where it rests against his navel, pulsing on occasion in time with the motions Jeongguk does with his fingers when he's stuffed deep inside.
When the lube eventually dries out—because it does dry out, annoyingly—Jeongguk slips his fingers out. Jimin's hole is left cold, sticky, and winking. He huffs, and the singer laughs, coating his hand with more lube this time. This time, when he gets back to teasing around Jimin's rim, it's with three thick fingers instead of two.
There's a hitch in Jimin's breath when they are pushed in, but no sharp pain accompanies the moment of discomfort. And Jeongguk waits anyway; caresses Jimin with his free hand, watches his expressions, mutters to him that he's "So pretty" and "Doing so well". In no time at all, the blonde is wigging his hips down, trying to get more, and Jeongguk obliges, pressing his fingers in and out at a careful, slow pace.
Jimin's eyes finally slip closed when Jeongguk angles his thrusts just the right way, finally hitting his prostate. He clearly knew where it was the whole time and purposefully avoided touching it. And quickly, Jimin understands why—it was a mercy. Because the moment he starts thrusting in and brushing Jimin's sensitive bundle of nerves, he doesn't let up a single time.
The thrusts go from steady and moderate to faster and deeper. Each time he rocks back in, Jeongguk makes sure to rub Jimin's prostate in one form or another. Quickly, sensitivity builds, and arousal drops lower and lower. The blonde gasps, and his hands fly down. Senselessly, he tries to grab onto Jeongguk's arm to slow or stop the stimulation. He can feel his balls tightening and cock starting to leak, and he will come way too soon if this goes on.
But it's not enough to stop it. In an easy, quick motion, Jeongguk catches both of Jimin's wrists in one hand and plants them into the mattress above his head. Now, Jeongguk is directly over him, caging him in and causing the angle of his fingers to shift. Out of nowhere, Jimin can't resist what's happening, and it's so much deeper.
He cries out, eyes flying open to catch Jeongguk's gaze in a half-lidded, begging expression. Panting now as he is roughly fucked on the singer's fingers, Jimin pleads, "J-Jeongguk, please. I-I'll come if you keep—"
Jeongguk holds his gaze, towering over him, a winning look on his face. Half-smirking, he continues pounding his fingers in and out of Jimin. Suddenly, the room is too hot, and all the blonde can hear is the perverted squelch of the lube. All he can see is Jeongguk, and all he can feel is pleasure. He can't think—he can't overthink. It's perfect.
"I'm not hearing a problem."
Jimin's moan is broken. His dick twitches with the desperate need for release. "Please. I don't w-want to come yet."
"But why?" Jeongguk asks, pouting down at him in a fake way that's just whiny and condescending enough to turn Jimin on more. He tilts his head, dark hair falling into his face, hand moving between Jimin's legs at a ridiculous speed now. "Thought you said you could go three times. I want at least three now."
"At least?" Jimin asks in a high tone.
And the singer has the audacity to laugh, rubbing for a few extra seconds longer on that sensitive spot inside of Jimin. "Mhm. I'm greedy for it. I want to watch you unravel. Are you gonna let me have it?"
Jimin's roll back before fluttering shut. His bottom lip quivers—body overwhelmed with pleasure and this incessant need to finally release the tension that's been building up for the second time in the last hour.
Jeongguk refuses to let up, pressing and rubbing and saying the dirtiest things Jimin has ever heard into the open room like he wants everyone in the hotel to hear.
Tears swell in Jimin's eyes at the slight overstimulation—the delicate pleasure that bleeds into too much, can't, please keep going—and he starts making the whiniest, highest noises he has ever heard. Jeongguk crooks his fingers up just right, and Jimin feels the second orgasm crash over him. The singer's praise and compliments play as the backdrop to the blonde's slew of cries and expletives as he comes, more thick, hot ropes shooting over his stomach and all the way up to his chest. It's not as much as the first time, but it's plenty, still.
After the high of the orgasm wanes, Jimin whimpers loudly and sadly as Jeongguk's fingers slip out, leaving his hole wet and swollen and gaping.
Gently, Jeongguk shushes him and leans down, starting to pepper kisses up and down his body. They are both panting, but Jimin's breathing is more erratic as his body shivers and shakes, slowly coming down.
"You're perfect. You did so well. Can't believe how pretty you are," Jimin can hear the singers murmuring as he caresses his sweat-covered body and moves the kisses to his stomach and sensitive thighs. "That's it. So good for me."
Slowly, Jimin's eyes open, dry now, and he looks up at the ceiling, dazed.
Jeongguk comes into view as the singer sits up, raising an eyebrow at him, hands on Jimin's waist. "How do you feel?"
All Jimin can manage is a broken hum. He feels like he's in the clouds; body weightless, mind free. It's something he has gotten a taste of from sex in the past, but never like this—never with such intensity. It's an experience so out of this world, so euphoric that he never could've imagined it. And now that he's here, he wants it forever.
His lack of a reply earns a huff of laughter from the singer. "I'll take that as a good thing."
They could've been there for five minutes or thirty, and it all would've felt the same to Jimin. Jeongguk sits with him, kisses him, touches him sweetly, and waits for him to recover. And once he has, Jimin is left lying there with the hottest man he has ever seen above him, smiling down at him and watching him like he's something to be admired.
The blonde bites down on his bottom lip and rakes his eyes down Jeongguk's naked body; his hard abs, defined V-line, strong thighs, and his half-hard cock.
"Still want to keep going?" Jeongguk checks in, no pressure behind his words.
Jimin's eyes dance up to find his, and he nods, releasing his lip to say, "Please."
"Okay," Jeongguk agrees, shifting on the bed. "But if it gets overwhelming at any point—"
"I'll tell you."
The singer's shoulders visibly relax at that. "Okay. Good."
Once again, the mood in the room shifts. All the tension from before is back, arousal making the air around them dense. Jeongguk shocks Jimin by moving to sit by the top of the bed, back against the headboard. Lifting to sit, Jimin watches him with furrowed brows.
The singer smiles slyly, tilting his head as he pats his thigh once. "Come on, baby. I want you to be on top."
Jimin's cheeks get hot, but he follows the direction, shifting up the bed until he is straddling Jeongguk, knees on either side of the singer, hands holding himself steady on his broad, firm shoulders. Already, Jeongguk's cock has fattened up quite a bit, and that is what brings the arousal back to Jimin's abdomen. The thought that just the sight of Jimin—just the thought of him on top—gets Jeongguk hard? Jimin could ride that high for a lifetime, and no doubt will.
Jeongguk grabs the side of his face, thumb against his cheek, and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Just before the blonde's eyes slip shut, he catches Jeongguk's non-tattooed hand shifting down to grab his own dick. Between them, as they kiss, Jimin can feel him stroking it, getting himself back to full hardness.
For a minute, Jimin lets it go on like that, because he has to admit how hot it is, but then he has enough and pulls away from the kiss, momentarily shifting off Jeongguk's lap to retrieve the lube from the nightstand. The singer watches him with half-lidded, curious eyes as Jimin squirts the lube into his hand before tossing the bottle to the wayside, not caring where it lands on the mattress.
Reassuming his position, Jimin is the one to dive back in for another kiss, which Jeongguk happily returns, one hand wandering to squeeze the fat of Jimin's ass. Then, the blonde slips his wet hand between their bodies and grabs the thick middle of the singer's cock, making Jeongguk gasp in surprise and pleasure.
One hand on Jeongguk's shoulder, Jimin strokes him with the other while they messily make out, taking his time to slide his hand up and down. His fingers don't touch all the way around. Holy shit.
He experiments to see what gets the best reaction; squeezes at the head and revels in the way Jeongguk's dick pulses, twists his wrist at the base and gets a soft moan in return, thumbs at the sensitive spot just under his tip and basks in how Jeongguk's grip on his ass tightens.
"Fuck, Jimin," Jeongguk groans, breaking off the kiss and leaving a trail of spit between them. He moves his hands to grab the blonde's lithe waist on either side. His head falls back against the headboard, black, messy hair bouncing with the movement and drawing Jimin's eye. "I can't take you teasing me anymore. I need to be inside—need to feel you around me. Come on."
Yep, Jimin is hard again. His own dick is now sitting prettily against his navel like he hasn't already come twice tonight at the hands of Jeon Jeongguk.
Giving in because they are both way too exhausted and horny to keep the foreplay up any longer, Jimin mutters, "Need that too," and shifts closer until his leaking, hard cock is pressed against Jeongguk's abs, his nipples at the singer's eyeline.
And he really should expect it before it happens, but he's too busy bringing his hand behind himself and searching for Jeongguk's cock to guide it to his entrance to realize what's happening until it does. Jeongguk holds tightly onto his waist and tugs Jimin impossibly closer until he can successfully latch his mouth around one of Jimin's pert, dark nipples.
Jimin gasps, but the sound tumbles into a moan as Jeongguk sucks unforgivingly, swirling his tongue in filthy motions and holding Jimin in place when he instinctually tries to back up. The blonde's head falls back, throat exposed to the lamplight as he whines, unable to stop himself from rubbing his hardness right against Jeongguk's abdomen.
"J-Jeongguk…"
Releasing his nipple, Jeongguk manages to say, "Go on, angel. Didn't say stop, hm?" before switching to suck on the other nipple.
Shaking a little, Jimin steadies his legs from wobbling and blindly grabs the singer's lube-covered, pulsing cock again. This time, he successfully manages to bring it to his ass, where he sits down a little until the blunt head is pressing against his winking, eager hole.
Jeongguk caresses his sides up and down, humming. He pulls off, hot breath on Jimin's sensitive skin. "That's it, baby. Come on."
Jimin bites down hard on his bottom lip, eyes slipping shut as he dares to sink down an inch. There is resistance, a burning stretch, and then the fat tip of the singer's cock is pressing in, widening his hole and shoving past rings of tight muscle.
Jeongguk groans, his grip tightening until Jimin is sure his pale skin will bloom purple in the places he touches. Delusionally horny, he finds that he likes that thought and sinks a little bit more, hissing through his teeth in pain the moment he does.
"Fuck," Jeongguk swears. They are both clearly distracted, but even so, the singer keeps licking and swirling his hot tongue around Jimin's nipple, playing with him and trying to make him feel good while taking such a big stretch. "You're tight, Jimin."
The blonde whines and shifts his hips, dropping down lower and lower—trying to keep himself steady and remember to take deep breaths. Jeongguk is massive and only gets wider the closer Jimin gets to the base. Wanting to do well, desperate to push through the pain—both for the sake of getting the hard part over with, and so he can in some way repay how good Jeongguk made him feel earlier—Jimin keeps lowering himself, even as his thighs begin to quiver. He hisses in pain, dropping his head on the singer's shoulder.
"Woah. Woah, hey—" Jeongguk quickly wraps both arms around him, one hand coming up to cup the back of Jimin's head. He keeps the blonde held up and coaxes Jimin to lift his face again to look at him. Once there, Jimin's half-lidded eyes meet the singer's blown-wide, worried ones. A gentle thumb strokes Jimin's soft cheek. "Hey, breathe. Are you okay?"
Jimin nods, trying to shift further down onto Jeongguk's cock, but the singer grabs his hip in a bruising grip and prevents it, urging, "Hey, Jimin. Look at me, baby. Seriously, there's no rush. Don't hurt yourself."
"'M not," he reassures, knowing any pinch of pain is inevitable and will eventually fade.
Jeongguk gives him a look—the sternest one the blonde has seen from him all night. Then, without saying anything, Jeongguk holds onto Jimin and shifts them both on the bed, completely changing their position and making his heavy cock slip out of the blonde with a wet squelch. Jimin's cry is pitiful and petulant. He's too empty now.
Before he knows it, his back is pressed against cool silk sheets, and Jeongguk is over him, kneeling between his spread legs, admiring the blonde as he coats his length in a fresh, thick coat of lube. Jeongguk lifts a dark brow, pressing a hand on Jimin's inner thigh to urge him to open his legs wider as he shifts closer. "You're being stubborn about this. I'm not going to let you accidentally hurt yourself. It's not worth it."
Jimin pouts outright, hands grabbing for the sheets preemptively when he feels the blunt head of the singer's cock against his gaping entrance once again. "I knew what I was doing."
"Oh, yeah? Seemed like you were being impatient to me."
"A little, maybe, but I was fine…" He admits, muttering. He loses focus, eyes fluttering and threatening to close when Jeongguk starts pushing in. Despite the admittedly more difficult angle, the slide is significantly easier this time. "I just want to get to the good part."
Jeongguk laughs, leaning down and planting a hand in the mattress by Jimin's head. He shakes his head in disbelief and shifts his hips, sinking further inside Jimin's tight heat. "All of this is supposed to be the good part, you know."
Jimin sighs exasperatedly, overstimulated and exhausted and ridiculously horny. "I know, and it is, but you know what I meant."
"That you're impatient," Jeongguk confirms.
The blonde huffs, and it earns another laugh from the singer. He might be more upset if not for Jeongguk's cock being buried halfway inside of him, which is considerably distracting. "I am not. I just…"
He shies from the admission, looking off to the side and biting down on his bottom lip, overwhelmed by being stuffed full and simultaneously being two orgasms deep already and getting stared at by the hottest person he's ever seen.
But of course Jeongguk can't let him have a moment of reprieve. With his free hand, the singer cups Jimin's face on either side and brings him to look at him again, amusement and what Jimin could easily mistake for fondness in his expression. "What? You were just what, Jimin?"
It's a near whisper. "I just wanted to make you feel as good as you've made me feel tonight, and now you're having to—"
"Nope. Don't even finish that thought," Jeongguk interrupts, pulling back to sit up. He throws one of Jimin's legs up and over his shoulder and thrusts in slow and gentle, successfully, finally burying himself to the hilt. "I think you got this mixed up at some point."
Jimin's heart lurches, and he grasps tighter at the sheets, anxiety appearing in his stomach. "W-What?"
"This is about you. I want you to feel good," he explains, slowly beginning to slide back out. It feels like it takes him ages to get back to where only the tip is still inside, which is when the singer starts pressing in again. He has one hand holding Jimin's leg up and the other splayed out over the blonde's tummy, keeping him right where he wants. A dark brow arches at Jimin. "Every single thing that we do should bring you pleasure, you know why, Jimin?"
Lost in the sensation of being filled to the brim and some, Jimin's brief moment of anxiety disappears, and he swallows thickly, only half-thinking when he breathily asks, "Why?"
Jeongguk's legs spread further, and he changes his angle so he is half-leaning over the blonde, directing more pressure to the center where they are connected. When he thrusts in the rest of the way, it's deep and stretching and intense—
"O-Oh my god," Jimin cries out, eyes rolling back as he spreads his free leg wider, trying to get the singer in as far as he'll go.
"Because it gets me off," Jeongguk reveals, the confession low and dirty. He sets a pace instantly, not allowing Jimin any more time to get accustomed now that the pain is gone. "I like seeing you writhing in pleasure, overwhelmed, overstimulated. I like knowing I'm the one who got you there."
The singer's pace builds steadily with each thrust. Before Jimin knows it, Jeongguk is back over him and the blonde is essentially pressed in half; his own leg still being held up so he ends up having his own knee by his head, foot dangling in the air as Jeongguk cages him in, using all of his strength to fuck him.
"Sure, I obviously get something out of it," the singer says, leaning down to press a kiss to Jimin's cheek. The sweet peck is a startling contrast to the brutality of his hips as he ruthlessly shoves his cock in and out, over and over. On every thrust in, Jeongguk's hips collide with Jimin's ass, creating a loud clapping sound that reverberates around the hotel room.
Fuck, Jimin hopes this suite is soundproof.
Lips brush over the sensitive shell of his ear, hot breath fanning his hair. "But it's not about me, baby. It's about you. You're mine right now, and that means I want to watch you lose it for me."
A wonton moan passes Jimin's lips. His dick twitches from its spot pinned between their bodies, and his eyes blink open so that he can catch Jeongguk's intense gaze.
His? He's Jeongguk's right now? Why does he like the sound of that so much? It burns arousal low in his stomach and has his head spinning in the best way. Panting, Jimin's gaze drops to the singer's mouth. He pleads, "Kiss me."
And Jeongguk does. Their mouths tangle messily. Through moans and heavy breathing, their tongues intertwine. Spit turns the kiss wet—almost as wet as where Jeongguk's thick length continues to pound into Jimin's abused, swollen hole, lube squelching and dripping everywhere, mixing with the singer's precum.
Jimin squeezes around him, making Jeongguk groan. There's a dirty mutter of "Fuck," before Jeongguk starts thrusting harder, faster—with abandon, clearly intent on driving them both insane, and it's working because Jimin can't think anymore beyond what's happening in the moment. His thoughts are all of how good everything feels, how perfectly quiet his mind is. His touches are all silk sheets and firm, smooth skin. All he can smell is a mix of sweat, sandalwood, and fresh linen. All he sees is the back of his own eyelids or Jeongguk's dark, intoxicating eyes—the ones that lull him into a sense of safety and comfort and being understood, even as he's fucked within an inch of his life by the very same man.
"Jimin. Baby," Jeongguk grunts, more breathless than before, leaning down to pepper kisses over the blonde's face. Jimin whines, feeling that his hair is stuck to his forehead and knowing the rest of him is just as sweaty. With a gentle shush, Jeongguk kisses his temple and mutters into his hair, "I'm getting close. I forgot—Ah, a condom, so I'm going to pull out—"
The blonde's second whine is louder and more pained. Jimin bites back a complaint and shifts his hips down, so he can silently convince the singer not to pull out.
"No, none of that," Jeongguk tells him, cupping his face and kissing him deeply to distract him. Jimin hates to admit that it sort of works. He's too far gone. Everything feels too good. Even with his leg starting to ache from the stretch and his vision blurring, it's incredible.
Breaking off the kiss, Jeongguk holds Jimin close. As if reading the blonde's mind, he shifts slightly, dropping Jimin's legs gently back down and wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around the back of his head, essentially hugging the blonde to him. Jimin moans, feeling simultaneous relief and intensified pleasure—both from his leg finally getting a break, and from the delicious friction on his cock in this new angle. On top of that, Jeongguk somehow managed to press himself deeper, driving Jimin further into overstimulation.
"J-Jeongguk," Jimin cries out, suddenly feeling his orgasm building for the third time tonight.
"Mhm," the singer responds, thick arms caging Jimin in. It smells so intensely like him that Jimin can't help but breathe in deeply, burying his nose into Jimin's tattooed bicep. He'll deal with how weird he finds himself in hindsight later. For now, it only serves to turn him on more. Jeongguk nibbles the shell of his ear, careful not to bump into the earrings that Jimin completely forgot he even had on. "That's it, angel. I want you to come with me, okay? I know you can do it. You're such a good boy."
A loud sob wracks Jimin, and he starts crying out of nowhere, shaking in pleasure and overcome with too many good emotions. Between his legs, his cock pulses, practically begging for release.
Clearly noting how much he likes it, Jeongguk continues murmuring strings of filth into the blonde's ear while he fucks him hard and deep, not letting up. "There it is. Come on, good boy. Come on. Come for me."
Hot, fat tears roll down the blonde's cheeks, and he throws his arms around the back of Jeongguk's neck, holding the singer to him. "C-Can't. I can't, J-Jeongguk—"
"Yes, you can," Jeongguk tells him, breathing heavily. Jimin can feel the singer's cock hardening even more inside of him, swelling with the need to come. The blonde cries out as a big, warm hand reaches around and fists his dripping length, pumping him fast and thorough—unrelenting. "You can and will."
"Fuck, oh my god—" Jimin throws his head back, crying and mewling nonstop, his blunt nails digging into Jeongguk's broad back, leveraging a hiss out of the singer that breaks off into a moan at the end. The tension in his middle builds with every thrust, every rub of Jeongguk's cock against his prostate, every rub of the singer's thumb over the swollen head of his dick.
Jeongguk buries his face in Jimin's neck. He's just as drenched in sweat, muscles strained from exertion, and yet he still doesn't slow down the pace. A muffled, "Come on, angel. Come for me. Come together, remember?"
"Yeah," Jimin agrees breathlessly, then sobs again as his pleasure crests. "Y-Yes, yeah. Ah—I'm coming—J-Jeongguk, I'm—"
"Come, baby. I've got you." Jeongguk catches his mouth in another kiss, swallowing every sweet, pathetic, pitched noise that escapes the blonde as he comes.
Jimin's orgasm hits harder than the last two but doesn't last nearly as long. White-hot pleasure rushes through his body, making him shake and shiver, everywhere tingling. He only feels a few short squirts of cum fly out, covering Jeongguk's fist. And the second the wave comes and goes, the singer is pulling out.
Whining loudly in protest, Jimin tries to squeeze around nothing and his wet, empty whole gapes, leaving him cold down there.
But Jimin forgets about it almost as soon as it crosses his mind, because then Jeongguk shifts, sitting up over the blonde and Jimin forces his tired eyes open to watch. He has to peer around where his arms are still slung around the back of Jeongguk's neck. Still, it's beyond worth it to see Jeongguk prop himself up on his tattooed arm and stroke himself to completion with the other, face scrunched in pleasure but his eyes never leaving Jimin's blissed-out face.
Jeongguk pants and groans, and swears under his breath, and within mere seconds of using his hand, he's coming all over Jimin's stomach and chest. It's easily five times what came out of the blonde, and he makes a satisfied sound when he feels the warm cum on his body. Normally, it might actually put him off, but for some reason Jeongguk seems to be the exception to every rule, so Jimin feels a ridiculous high of satisfaction.
After he comes, with no class at all, Jeongguk plops back down on top of Jimin, smearing the sweat and cum between them. And again, where he would normally feel gross, all it gets is an initial huff out of Jimin, followed by a sincere and airy laugh.
Jeongguk tucks his face back into the blonde's neck. "W's f'ny?"
"Nothing," Jimin mutters, amused. He tightens his arms around the broader man and follows suit, burying his nose into the spot between Jeongguk's shoulder and neck, breathing him in. "Tired?"
"Fuck, yes," Jeongguk lifts enough to say, tone exasperated. He stares at Jimin, wide-eyed, red-lipped, messy-haired. "I worked out for three hours, went on stage and jumped around for two, and then fucked you into the mattress for another two. I'm exhausted. I'm gonna sleep for two days after this."
The pair share a long look.
Then, burst out laughing at the same time. Jeongguk shifts off Jimin to let him breathe, but ends up on his side, tugging the blond into him. Jimin grimaces at the sensation of cool, drying cum on their bodies but doesn't move, too tired and far too comfortable in Jeongguk's arms.
I'm Scared I'll Never Sleep Again
"I'd do it all again, for the record," the singer adds smoothly, kissing Jimin's cheek.
Humming, Jimin smiles against Jeongguk's chest. "Right."
"I'm serious," Jeongguk insists, and he does sound more sincere that time, so much so that the blonde glances up at him to gauge just how serious he's being. He finds that there isn't an ounce of kidding in those dark, observant eyes.
Jeongguk scans every part of Jimin's face, smiling softly as he runs a hand through Jimin's tangled, sweaty hair. "I want to do this again. And… not only the sex. I want to talk to you. I want to hear what it's been like all this time that I haven't seen you. I want to get to know you again, Jimin."
Emotion blossoms in Jimin's chest. All night, he has been trying to do what Taehyung said and live in the moment. And thus far, it's worked out for him—shockingly. But he can't deny that he secretly hoped there might be more to this than just the moment. And he also can't help but worry because…
"How would we even make that work?" Jimin can't help but ask. "Aren't you in the middle of a tour?"
"The end of one." Jeongguk shrugs. "It's one more show tomorrow, and we leave town. Then we have a few more shows next month, and we're done. And I have a place here, so I always planned on coming back afterward."
The singer doesn't press further, doesn't pitch the options. He keeps caressing Jimin and playing with his hair, taking his time as the blonde comes to a decision.
In the end, Jimin asks shyly, "If I said yes, what… would it even look like?"
Jeongguk's smile is bright and charming. "It would look like you staying the night with me. I'd have to leave before you to work out and do soundcheck, but then I would take you somewhere for lunch before the next show tomorrow. I'd invite you to the second show if you wanted. Then, I'd get your number, and I'd call and FaceTime you nonstop while I'm gone, and definitely bother you—"
Jimin snorts, and it makes the singer crack a smile.
"And then I'll come back in a few weeks. I'll take you on a million dates." Jeongguk leans in, rubbing their noses together in a motion so intimate and soft that Jimin feels his heart skip a beat. The singer whispers, "And eventually, when you're ready, I'll ask you to be mine, officially."
A sharp intake of air. Jimin's lips purse, heart thundering in his chest now.
Jeongguk never shies from eye contact. "How does that sound?"
It sounds like living in the moment. Therefore, it sounds like a risk. Risks are exciting, sure, but exciting was never Jimin’s thing anyway. Excitement means chaos, which creates anxiety, which leads to bad situations and heartache, and—
You know what.
Maybe Jimin's ready to give it a shot—to try excitement for once.
Because Jeongguk feels right, and for once, Jimin would very much like to try his heart over his head.
So, he leans up and catches Jeongguk in a kiss, surprising the singer. With a smile, Jeongguk hums and kisses back, cupping Jimin's face.
When they pull apart, it's for Jimin to look into his eyes and say, "That sounds really nice."
Jeongguk grins, moving in for another kiss. "Good. I think so too"
fin.
After-credit scene:
When Kim Taehyung strolls into Jimin's apartment two days later, it's with a limp in his walk, his boots clutched in his hands, hair a mess, wearing the same clothes he had on the night of the first concert.
Snorting, Jimin sits up on his couch and bookmarks the novel he was reading—a recommendation from Jeongguk, different than his usual non-fiction but pretty good ten chapters in. "Had a fun weekend?"
Taehyung flops down on his couch, sighing loudly. His makeup is old and smeared, and he appears to have misplaced the fingerless gloves. "Second show was better than the first."
"I know. I was in the stands, remember? Sorry I didn't join you in the front, but I told Jeongguk I couldn't do another three hours of standing."
The brunette snickers. "He dicked you down that good?"
"Yes, actually. Did Yoongi?"
Taehyung grins, a look on his face like he's reminiscing. Rather than answer, the brunette says dreamily, "I love singers."
"Me too," Jimin agrees.
"Okay," Taehyung grunts, hoisting himself up using the rest of his energy. Where Jimin went home after the second show last night—post long goodbye to Jeongguk, which included a lot of swapping spit—Taehyung went back to Yoongi's hotel for another night. Not that he seems upset about the choice. "Welp. I'm going to grab my stuff like I said I would, and then I'm probably just going to shove it in a bag, take a bath, and pass out on your couch. Sound cool?"
"Sounds great."
Taehyung waves half-heartedly, already across the apartment.
Just then, there is a chime on Jimin's phone. Picking it up, he smiles at the sight of the notification.
From: Jeongguk
Boarding the flight in an hour, and I miss you already
Call me?
It's about time for the blonde to be going to bed soon, so he would usually be doing his skincare right now, but…
Grinning wide, Jimin dials the number and listens to it ring.
It only takes one ring to get through.
"Hey, baby."
His voice is music to Jimin's ears.