Chapter Text
Jungkook is up on the second tier of the nightclub, forearms draped over the railing as he leans over it. His eyes lazily scan the crowded dancefloor spread out beneath him, half-heartedly skimming over the mass of dancing bodies and the mess of limbs that they’re attached to. There’s nothing really worth looking at down there.
After another minute or so of watching, he turns around to fix himself another drink. He’s here alone, but the bottle of Grey Goose sitting in the ice bucket is nearly half finished. The ice cubes clink when he drops them in his glass, and next comes the vodka, and he pours and pours and… now the bottle is officially half-empty.
It’s not that Jungkook is in the habit of coming to nightclubs alone on Friday nights. He came here with a couple other people – Minsoo and Junseo – two rappers from a different label than his own. Jungkook would hardly call them his friends, they’re more like mere acquaintances than anything else. Jungkook doesn’t really have friends, but he does have a whole list of people he’ll gladly get fucked up with any day of the week.
Anyway, Minsoo left fairly early on in the night, heading straight home when his regular hook-up for blow finally texted him back saying he’d drop it off at his place that night. Junseo left about an hour ago with a couple girls– one hanging off each arm.
Jungkook’s been alone since, left to his own devices, taking full advantage of the bottle service. And while he may be alone right now, he doesn’t intend on being alone for much longer.
With a fresh drink in hand, he makes his way back over to the railing, a pleasant burn settling in his chest as he sips his vodka tonic. The music is loud, bass thumping dully through him as he stands there, idly observing the scene below him. His actions might seem a bit predatory, but he feels rather ravenous at the moment, so it’s fitting.
The alcohol swirling through his system only feeds into his need to find a good fuck. Jungkook hasn’t been laid in three days, and he’s itching to take someone home. And maybe that persistent itch sitting just beneath his skin is the reason why he’s so mesmerized by the first person that manages to catch his attention on the dancefloor.
The guy that Jungkook sets his sights set on is blonde. He’s wearing skin tight black jeans with rips all the way up to his upper thigh, and the neckline on his shirt swoops low enough to show off his collarbones. Blondie looks like he knows what he’s doing, hips rolling in time with the music, and when he raises an arm in the air, his shirt lifts to expose his midriff. There’s a flash of silver that catches Jungkook’s eye– a dangly earring sparkling prettily as it sways back and forth.
The strobing lights splash colour all over the guy's face, pink and purple splattering over his skin as he tips his head back and smiles up at the rafters, losing himself in the music. His smile is pretty. He’s pretty.
Jungkook doesn’t need to be persuaded any further.
He calls the bottle service girl over, asking for a fresh bottle of vodka and instructing her to take the half drank one away (he doesn’t want the guy he’s trying to bring back home to get the wrong idea and think he’s an alcoholic or something). After pointing out the pretty blonde to her, Jungkook slips the bottle service girl some cash for her troubles, and she heads off.
Jungkook leaves his lookout, settling down on the plush leather couch, and waits. It’s that easy.
Money might not buy happiness, but it sure as hell can buy a lot of pretty things.
And soon, just like that, Jungkook isn’t up there alone anymore.
Blondie's name is Jimin. When he tells his name to Jungkook, he says it shyly, with the sweetest little smile, like he’s letting Jungkook in on a secret. Jimin is anything but shy, though. The white leather couch is big, curved to form a half circle around the table. There’s plenty of room on it, but Jimin's sitting so close, angled towards him so that his knee presses against Jungkook’s thigh when he crosses his legs.
They don’t talk much at first, which seems to suit them both just fine. Jungkook has never had to put much effort into conversing – being one of the most famous rappers in South Korea has its perks. Besides, the air around them is saturated with so much heat that each breath Jungkook breathes in tastes hot and sits heavy on his tongue.
They both know where this night is headed. There’s no need to say much.
Jimin sips his drink through a straw, eyes sweeping over Jungkook, all the way up from the top of his head down to his toes and then back up again. Finally, Jimin’s gaze settles on Jungkook’s face, mouth curling into a demure smile. His lips are stained red from the cranberry juice in his drink.
So far, Jungkook’s been keeping his hands to himself, preoccupied with letting his eyes roam over Jimin, imagining all the different ways he wants to wreck him. But just looking at him isn’t enough anymore. Jimin is far too alluring, his feigned innocence drawing Jungkook in like a magnet. He’s confident, there’s no doubt about that.
Jungkook likes that. It’s far more fun to play with someone who’s confident, the confident ones are always better than the ones who get all airheaded and giggly, going starry-eyed and star-struck as soon as they get some attention from a celebrity.
Jungkook sets his drink down on the table. He turns to Jimin, fingertips ghosting over the side of his neck before flicking at his earring, just to watch the way it sways. Jimin’s lips part ever so slightly, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
Taking Jimin’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jungkook tilts his face this way and that, admiring it from all different angles. “Pretty.” He murmurs. The contrasting colours and shadows from the flashing lights compliment his features, making them appear soft and sharp all at once. He lets go of Jimin’s chin, hand curling around the back of his neck instead.
Jimin cocks his head just so, mischief playing at the edges of his smile. “You think I’m pretty?” His voice is light, like a breath of fresh air.
“I do.” Jungkook arches an eyebrow, amused. “Do you think I would’ve invited you up here if I didn’t think you were pretty?”
“I don’t know.” Jimin hums. He lifts his glass to his open mouth, coy as he taps the edge of it against his teeth. “Maybe when you saw me, you thought I looked like someone with a killer personality.”
Jungkook chuckles. “You’re right. It’s your pretty face that made me invite you up here," he lightly squeezes the back of Jimin's neck, and Jimin's eyelids droop. "But it’s your killer personality that’s making me invite you back to my place.” Which is a lie. A big, blatant lie. In the past, Jungkook has had sex with people who he’d spoken less than two words to. Finding someone with a good personality isn’t really a priority when he’s looking for a potential fuck.
“Oh?” Jimin says. There’s a hint of skepticism in his tone, but it’s obviously only there to tease. His smile stretches wider, and god, Jungkook wants to ruin him. “You didn’t even tell me your name, and you’re asking me to go home with you?”
A smirk tugs at Jungkook’s lips. Jimin is right – he didn’t give him his name, because he doesn’t need to. It’s cute, the way that Jimin is pretending like he doesn’t know who he is. It makes Jungkook want to wreck him all the more, wreck him so that when he’s done with him, Jimin won’t be able to even pretend like he doesn’t know who he is.
“I shouldn’t even be here, you know.” Jimin adds, voice dropping to a near whisper.
“Yeah?” Jungkook leans back against the couch, head lolling to the side as he eyes Jimin. “And why’s that?”
Jimin inches forward slowly, almost timidly. “I was always told not to talk to strangers.” His words are airy, floating on top of the steady thump of the bass in the background.
Jungkook gives a wolfish grin. “Not supposed to talk to strangers, but you don’t seem to have any problems flirting with them.” He slides his other hand up Jimin’s leg, feeling the heat of his skin against his palm through the rips in his jeans. “And what about kissing, hm?” Jungkook leans in closer, gripping Jimin’s thigh. He’s so close that he can feel Jimin’s breath ghosting over his lips. He smells sweet. Probably tastes even sweeter. “You have a problem with kissing strangers, too?” Jimin’s eyes drop, focusing on Jungkook’s mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. “What’s the matter, baby?” Jungkook goads. “Hm? You’re so quiet now. You shy?”
Jimin lets himself fall forward, eyes still on Jungkook’s lips, practically begging to be kissed. But Jungkook doesn’t indulge him. He stops Jimin from coming any closer, keeping him at bay with a hand on his throat.
“Please.” Jimin whines, licking his lips. He’s pouting now, looking like a child who just got his candy taken away. Jimin is persistent, tries to get closer, but Jungkook’s isn’t having any of that.
His fingers lightly squeeze Jimin’s neck, heat flooding through him when he feels Jimin's Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. It's not that Jungkook doesn't want to kiss Jimin – he really does – but they’ve wasted so much time already. He’d rather just take him back to his place. Save the kissing for later.
“So desperate for a kiss, even though you still don’t know my name.” Jungkook decides to play along with Jimin’s little act, pretending as if the guy doesn’t already know exactly who he is. “Don’t you wanna know, baby?”
“I–” Jimin cuts himself off, moaning when Jungkook’s grip tightens around his throat. The sound vibrates straight through Jungkook, tickling his palm and going straight to his cock.
Jungkook leans in close, pressing his lips against Jimin’s ear, and he can both feel and hear the way Jimin's breath hitches when he does. “My name is Jungkook.” He murmurs. “And I would love to take you home tonight.”
They don’t kiss in the nightclub. But they certainly do in the back of the Uber.
If Jungkook was still just starting out and in the beginning of his career, then he wouldn’t dare do something like this – he wouldn’t even think about doing something like this. But the thing is, he's not still at the beginning of his career. In fact, he’s fairly certain that he’s nearing the end of his career. So he doesn’t really care.
He doesn’t care that he’s making out with someone in the back seat of an Uber. This isn’t the first time he’s done it, and it certainly won’t be the last. Surprisingly, Jungkook hasn’t had any problems with Uber drivers before– none of them have sold information to the press about any of his hedonistic rides. At least, none that he knows of.
Not that he would care even if they did. Korea already knows that he’s falling off the rails. It’s not a secret.
In the back seat, the city lights pour in through the windows, swirling together and blurring in Jungkook’s alcohol-addled mind. He eagerly works his lips against Jimin’s, swallowing down all of his muffled whimpers. Flicking his tongue out, he traces it over the roof of Jimin’s mouth, just to feel him shiver and draw out some more needy little noises from him.
Jimin obviously knows what to do with his mouth, but he lets Jungkook take the lead all the same, and Jungkook is more than happy to lick into him, to feel the warm slide of Jimin’s tongue against his own.
It’s filthy.
By the time the Uber pulls up to Jungkook’s apartment complex, he’s kissed Jimin so thoroughly that there’s this blissed out, dazed look glazing over his eyes when they finally pull apart. Jungkook admires it for only a second before taking Jimin's hand and helping him out of the Uber.
Jeon Jungkook isn’t a gentleman. But he’s decent at pretending to be one.
He brings Jimin up to his penthouse, and instead of picking up where they left off and tearing off his clothes and shoving him up against the door, he exercises some self-control. Jungkook guides Jimin over to the couch with a hand on his lower back.
“Wait here.” He instructs.
Jimin licks his red, kiss-swollen lips. He eyes Jungkook with a mixture of curiosity and confusion, but he still does as he’s told, taking a seat on the couch while Jungkook heads to the kitchen.
Seoul’s cityscape illuminates the penthouse, light spilling in through the massive floor to ceiling windows. The penthouse is spotless – Jungkook has a maid who ensures it stays that way – and the granite countertops and marble floors are polished and pristine. From the fridge, Jungkook pulls out a bottle of champagne, and then from the cupboard he grabs two glasses.
Truthfully, Jungkook doesn’t care much for champagne, but he always makes sure he has at least one bottle somewhere in the apartment. Breaking out a bottle of champagne is a sure-fire way to make whoever he’d brought home on a drunken night feel special, even though Jungkook fully intends on fucking them and then never seeing them again for the rest of his life.
Most people drop their panties for a lot less than a bottle of champagne, but the champagne thing is something he feels like he has to do. Just so he doesn’t feel like a total asshole when he kicks out whoever he fucks at the end of the night.
After all, Jungkook isn’t heartless.
As Jungkook approaches the couch, his gaze meets Jimin’s. Jimin looks comfortable where he’s sitting, leaning against the sleek black leather. The neckline of his shirt is so low that it’s starting to slip down his shoulder, and fuck, Jungkook can’t wait to sink his teeth into him.
“Champagne?” Jimin says, voice lilting playfully. He takes one of the empty glasses when Jungkook offers it to him. “Now I’m just getting spoiled.”
Jungkook takes a seat next to him, lips curling into a half smile. “A pretty thing like you deserves to be spoiled.” Jungkook is so drunk that the line rolls easily off his tongue. Alcohol always makes it so much easier to say sweet things.
Jimin giggles at the sound of the champagne cork popping, and Jungkook fills both their glasses, the foam rising to the top quickly before settling down to a gentle bubble, lightly fizzing.
“When you’re done spoiling me with champagne, are you gonna spoil me with something else?” Jimin asks. He sips his champagne, deceitfully curious as he blinks up at Jungkook.
“I guess that depends.” Jungkook says. He rests a hand on Jimin’s knee, fingers playing with the loose threads of his ripped jeans.
“On?”
Jungkook smirks. “What do you consider to be a treat, baby?”
“A…” Jimin’s tongue peeks out to wet his lips. “A treat?” This time, he sounds genuinely curious.
"Mm." Jungkook hums. He takes a sip from his glass, champagne bubbles dancing across his tongue. He doesn’t usually tease this much, and if he were here with anyone else, he’d probably already be fucking them. But Jimin is just so fun to play with. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the seam in Jimin’s jeans, all the way up to his inner thigh. “Isn’t that what people get spoiled with? With treats?”
Jimin bites his lip, eyes darkening. He nods.
“You want a treat?” Jungkook asks.
“Yeah.” Jimin’s voice sounds breathless, eyelids drooping with want. Jungkook takes the champagne flute out of Jimin's hand and relocates it as wells as his own to the coffee table. They’re already about to make enough of a mess on the couch. They don’t need to spill champagne on it too.
“You want one?” Jungkook’s hand is back on Jimin, fingertips digging into the meat of his thigh, and the little gasp that Jimin lets out is a treat all on its own. “Then say it, baby.”
“I want a treat.”
And Jungkook wants to give him one.
“I bet you do.” He rubs over his thigh, loving the way that Jimin is practically melting underneath his touch, sinking deeper into the couch, legs spreading just slightly. “But if you want one, then you have to tell me what a treat is to you.”
With a huff, Jimin impatiently paws at Jungkook’s leg, like he’s having a hard time articulating what it is that he wants. “I want you to– to…” He trails off as Jungkook leans in so that there’s barely a breath of air between them. A pretty pink blush rises high on Jimin’s cheekbones.
“Want me to what?” Jungkook asks, lips brushing against Jimin’s. “Want me to kiss you?” He teases, fully aware that it’s not just a kiss that Jimin is aching for right now. “That what you want?”
Jimin whines, a frustrated little noise in the back of his throat, though it quickly turns into a moan when Jungkook slots their lips together. The kiss starts out messy and it gets even messier, the obscene wet sound of their tongues sliding together seeming to echo throughout the penthouse. The sweetness of champagne is far more tolerable when he’s tasting it in Jimin’s mouth.
Jimin’s fingers twist in his hair, dragging Jungkook on top of him as he lays himself down on the couch. Heat winds its way through Jungkook, urging him to take more –to push further – and he gets greedy with it, sucking Jimin’s lip into his mouth. The itch underneath Jungkook’s skin is bordering on unbearable now, and he’s honestly surprised he’s managed to hold out this long. He can feel Jimin hardening beneath him, and Jungkook lets out a low growl, hips pressing forward to grind down against Jimin’s.
“Fuck–” Jimin chokes out. He turns his head, breaking the kiss so suddenly that Jungkook is left with his nose pressed against Jimin’s cheek, breathing heavy. “W-want your cock.” Jimin pleads, gasping as Jungkook grinds his clothed erection against his inner thigh.
“Yeah, you want me to fuck you?” Jungkook mutters with a smirk. He draws back, just enough to get a good look at Jimin’s face when he says his next words. “Is that what you want as your treat? Want me to spoil you with my cock?”
“Yeah– yeah.” Jimin arches his hips, lower back lifting off the couch. “Please, want it.”
“Where, hm?” There’s something so addicting about toying with Jimin like this, something that sends a thrill of satisfaction straight through Jungkook. “Where do you want my cock?”
Jimin goes quiet, chest rising and falling unsteadily, the blush on his cheeks darkening. He looks up at Jungkook with big eyes, and he’s got this whole innocence thing going on for him that’s driving Jungkook crazy. Looking a bit shy – as if he hadn’t just been begging for Jungkook’s cock mere seconds ago – Jimin nibbles at his lip, lashes sweeping over his cheekbones as his gaze dips to stare at the outline of Jungkook’s hard cock through his jeans.
When Jimin looks up to meet his eyes again, he smiles sweetly. Lifting his legs, Jimin tucks his knees to his chest. He takes Jungkook’s hand and guides it to his ass, forcing him rub over it. “Here.”
Jungkook’s arousal spikes, heat slamming into him like a wall. He squeezes, cursing underneath his breath, roughly groping Jimin and loving how loud he gets as he plays with his ass.
Jungkook was drunk before, but those few sips of champagne are really pushing him over the edge. He grabs the hem of his own shirt, lifting it over his head and tossing it to the side. His head is all hazy, feeling a little frantic as his fingers fumble with the button on Jimin’s jeans. He just wants to fuck Jimin, that’s all he wants. Yeah, he had his fun teasing him, but right now he only has one thing on his mind. He really just wants to come, and then pass out in a deep drunken slumber.
Lifting his hips, Jimin helps Jungkook slide his pants down, his jeans soon joining the other discarded articles of clothing on the floor. Jungkook stands up without a word, only stumbling a little as he goes to grab the basket he keeps underneath his coffee table. There are only a couple condoms left in the basket, and he makes a mental note that he needs to restock (but will probably end up forgetting it by morning). He hopes he still has a box of them in his bedroom.
When Jungkook returns to the couch, it’s with lube and a condom, and Jimin is smiling up at him, looking so sweet, looking at Jungkook as if his cock really is a treat.
And even though Jungkook would love to see what Jimin looks like with his lips wrapped around his cock, he shoves that thought to the back of his mind and suppresses that desire. He’s wasted enough time already. It’s best to get straight into it.
Jimin makes the prettiest noises when Jungkook is three fingers deep inside him, lube dripping onto leather as he stretches him out on the couch. Jimin's laid out on his back, spread out just for Jungkook.
“F-fuck, that feels good.” Jimin breathes out. He props himself up on an elbow and reaches out, wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s cock, slowly pumping his length as Jungkook fingers him.
Jungkook’s head is spinning, dizzy with pleasure, dizzier with alcohol. He doesn’t even remember when he’d taken his pants off, just knows that somehow, he’s completely naked now. He tears open the condom with his teeth, throwing the wrapper somewhere on the floor before he rolls it on. He's drunk as shit, but at least he can still put a condom on.
Honestly, it's almost a shame he’s so wasted when he fucks Jimin.
It’s not that fucking Jimin doesn’t feel good – it feels amazing. It has pleasure rolling over him in endless waves, has his hips snapping forward over and over again, pounding into him so hard he’s sure the outline of Jimin’s body is going to be imprinted into his couch when he’s done with him. But, if it feels this good when Jungkook is this drunk, then that means it would feel even better if he’d had two, three – maybe four – less drinks.
Not that it really matters at the end of the day. He’s still going to get to come.
“O-oh, fuck, Jungkook!” Jimin cries out, leg wrapping around Jungkook’s waist to draw him closer, to push him deeper, heel digging into Jungkook’s ass. “Keep fucking me– keep fucking me there. Oh god, keep fucking me right there.” His head kicks back, mouth dropped open as he lets out the most beautifully sinful sounds, face dusted such a pretty pink.
Jimin is fucking gorgeous. Jungkook has no idea what he does for a living, but he figures that he must be a model or something– a profession that would make good use of a pretty face like that.
“Shit, Jimin.” Jungkook grits his teeth, teetering on the edge of sanity as he fucks into Jimin’s tight heat, slamming into him so hard the couch is starting to slide across the floor. Jimin reaches between his legs and grabs onto his own cock, desperate as he starts to stroke himself. They’re both getting sloppy with it now, the long night of drinking catching up to them, but it only makes Jungkook fuck Jimin with more vigour, eager for them both to get off.
A strangled cry gets caught in the back of Jimin’s throat, and Jungkook hisses as Jimin sinks his fingers into his arm, nails pressing into his tattoos. “I-I’m gonna come– gonna come.” Jimin’s words come out as a broken sob, his grip on Jungkook’s bicep tightening, nails digging deeper until Jungkook feels a sharp sting of pain.
"Fuck." Something inside Jungkook snaps when he notices the tears leaking out of Jimin’s eyes. Jungkook groans at the sight beneath him, wants to really make him cry, fucking in with even more force now, and Jimin screams.
“O-oh my god.” Jimin’s back arches off the couch, a shudder rippling through his body as he finally lets go, his own cum landing on his chest as his eyes roll to the back of his head.
Quite frankly, it’s one of the hottest things Jungkook’s ever seen.
“W-want your come on me, oh my god.” Jimin whimpers, almost a little pained. He sounds spent– downright desperate. “Come on my face– want you to come on my face.”
And that’s one of the hottest things Jungkook’s ever heard.
He pulls out with a muttered curse, careless as he tosses the condom aside. He inches up Jimin’s body, hand flying over his cock as he jerks himself off, aiming for Jimin’s pretty face. The sight of Jimin sticking out his tongue – like he can’t wait to have it painted with cum – is what ultimately sends Jungkook over the edge.
When Jungkook’s cum splatters over Jimin’s cheeks and lips, he flinches only a little, in a way that tells Jungkook he’s no stranger to having guys blow their loads all over his face.
Not that that’s really surprising.
Floating in a post-orgasm daze, Jungkook takes a moment to stare down at Jimin, to admire the drying tear tracks on his cheeks, along with the obscene way his cum drips down his face.
Yeah. Tonight was a good night. And now, all he needs is sleep.
“Wait here.” Jungkook mutters. His high is wearing off – he’s coming down and he’s coming down fast. He waves his hand pointlessly, gesturing to the air as he climbs off Jimin. “Be right back.”
The walk to the bathroom is more challenging than it should be. Jungkook’s knees feel weak, legs wobbling like they’re about to give out on him at any second, his vision swimming in and out of focus.
Holy fuck. Jungkook thinks as he braces a hand against the wall to steady himself. I’m drunk.
He needs to go to bed, but before he can do that, he needs to deal with Jimin.
When Jungkook returns to the couch with a damp facecloth, Jimin is still sprawled out on his back, chest lightly rising and falling, eyes barely open, just lying there looking all fucked out.
Pretty.
He cleans Jimin thoroughly, gentle as he wipes the cum from his face and chest, and careful as he drags the towel between his ass cheeks. Jungkook’s eyelids are drooping, threatening to close for the night, and it’s honestly a miracle that he doesn’t fall asleep in the middle of cleaning.
When he's satisfied with his job, Jungkook flops down on the couch with a grunt, and is barely coherent enough to notice that Jimin isn’t laying down anymore. He’d stood up at some point.
“I, uh.” Jimin speaks up for the first time in a while, words slurring, voice thick and laced with a drunken softness. “I gotta–I gotta go.” He wobbles a little as he bends down, picking his clothes off the floor. “Gotta go home.”
This night just keeps getting better and better.
Jungkook isn’t a religious man, but he still glances at the ceiling and throws up a silent thank you to the heavens. Not only is Jimin an amazing fuck, but he actually respects hookup etiquette. He actually knows when to leave.
Jungkook has fucked far too many people who overstay their welcomes, who assume that it’s fine if they stay the night. People like that really get on Jungkook’s nerves. He’s glad that Jimin has some common sense and doesn’t think that an invitation to fuck is an invitation to stay over too.
“Wait.” Jungkook says. “I’ll get you an Uber.” He stretches an arm out, blindly fumbling for his pants laying on the floor next to the couch. When he finds them, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and orders Jimin a ride.
Jimin and Jungkook both got what they wanted. There’s no need for Jimin to linger, no need for forced conversations or for playing domestic couple and snuggling up in bed together.
“Thanks.” Jimin says, unsteady on his feet, swaying back and forth as he struggles to pulls his pants up.
Jungkook grunts in response. He can’t wait for the Uber to get there, can’t wait for Jimin to leave, because he can’t wait to sleep.
When Jimin finally leaves, Jungkook is only half awake. He’s not sure how long it took for the Uber to get there, and he's not sure what Jimin did while he waited for it to come. And Jungkook has no clue how he manages to find the strength to peel himself off the couch, or how he makes it to his bedroom without falling down. But he does. Jungkook crawls into bed, pulls the covers over his body, and promptly passes out.
---
“Get up.”
It’s around two o’clock in the afternoon the following day when Jungkook is jerked awake by a familiar voice speaking with an equally familiar sternness. Jungkook doesn’t dare open his eyes.
“Jungkook.” The voice says again, louder now. Jungkook’s manager isn’t a patient man at the best of times.
But still, Jungkook doesn’t budge. Playing dead never works on his manager, but to be fair, Jungkook doesn’t know if he’s even playing right now. He might as well be dead. It feels like someone with a personal vendetta against him is pounding a hammer on top of his head, and his throat is on fire– had he been guzzling seawater last night? It sure as hell feels like it.
His manager tries again. “It’s time to get up.”
Next, Jungkook hears the awful, grating sound of curtains scraping in their tracks, and suddenly, light is spilling into the room, and it’s too goddamn bright, even behind Jungkook’s eyelids. Groaning, Jungkook buries his face into his pillow.
Footsteps approach his bedside, and Jungkook anticipates knows what’s going to happen next. He lifts his head, peeking his eyes open just enough to peer up at Seungjun, his manager. “I’m naked underneath this blanket.” Jungkook warns.
Seungjun’s face twists, his outstretched arm immediately returning to his side, suddenly not so keen on yanking the covers away.
If Jungkook had the energy, he’d laugh. But he doesn’t, so he just drops his head back onto the pillow. A few glorious seconds pass by in silence. Jungkook takes it as a good sign, hopes that his manager has finally given up on him.
And then, Seungjun sighs. “What are you doing, Jungkook?”
“Trying to recover from last night.” Jungkook answers, but he knows that’s not really what Seungjun means. His voice is rough around the edges. It hurts to talk. “You?”
“You were supposed to be in the studio today. Have you started writing? You told me you were working on a few songs, have you even started one yet?”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.
“We’ve already postponed this album release three times.” Seungjun says. “Do you really want to do that again? Do you really not care?”
No. He doesn’t.
The thing about albums is that it’s kind of hard to release one without any songs on it.
Jungkook doesn’t want to work. He really doesn’t care.
It’s quiet for a minute or so, and Seungjun must finally realize that Jungkook is a lost cause, because he leaves without another word. And just like that, Jungkook is alone again. Just the way he likes it.
---
Today is a beautiful day.
It’s a lovely Thursday afternoon, the sun is shining and the birds are chirping, and Jungkook hopes that the sun will burn out and plunge the world into eternal darkness, and that the birds will choke on their own songs and die, because Jungkook is suffering from an exceptionally shitty hangover and he can’t stand the light or the noise.
He doesn’t exactly know where he is right now, just that he’s somewhere in Seoul. He’d walked out of a party at some random producer’s house a little while ago, and has been roaming the streets since. He’s coming off a three-day bender, and the only place he wants to be right now is home in his own bed– but he can’t go home. Jungkook has been hiding from his manager for the past week, and going home right now is too risky. He doesn’t want to deal with Seungjun.
Which is why he’s out right now, face mask on and bucket hat sitting low– he's pretty good at blending into a crowd when he wants to. Then again, there isn’t exactly much of a crowd to blend into right now. Jungkook is nearing the dead-end of a street he’s never heard of, and there aren’t many people out. He doesn’t think he’s ever been around this part of the city before.
He comes to a stop at the very end of the street, right in front of some random restaurant. The paint on the sign above his head is chipped and the writing is all faded, but Jungkook can still make out what it says. Jay’s Diner.
Jungkook has no idea who this Jay person is, but whoever he is, it’s definitely in his best interest to invest in some renovations. The place looks like it’s seen better days– but this sort of place is exactly the place Jungkook needs to be right now. His manager isn’t going to come looking for him here, that’s for sure.
A little bell jingles when Jungkook opens the door and steps inside, and it’s not a very loud noise, but Jungkook still winces when he hears is. Any noise is a bad noise right now.
The diner turns out to be only marginally nicer on the inside than it is on the outside– the exposed brick wall isn’t doing the place any favours, but Jungkook supposes that the shabbiness must be part of the diner’s charm, and hey, at least it looks clean. To Jungkook’s surprise, it’s not completely dead in there, and there are actually quite a few customers. It looks like the diner caters mostly to an older crowd, and (much like the restaurant itself) most of the people there look like they’ve seen better days.
After doing a quick once-over of the place, Jungkook manages to find an empty table, and he seats himself at one of the booths tucked into a corner away from the windows. There’s a flimsy laminated menu sitting on the table, and Jungkook glances over it briefly, even though he knows he won’t be ordering anything. He doesn’t exactly trust his stomach at the moment– he'll probably end up puking later today. Maybe he should go to the bathroom right now and pull the trigger, after all, he'll probably feel a lot better if–
“Hi–” a light, pleasant voice chimes from beside him. “How are you doing today?” Jungkook snaps his head up. His stomach flips, and it’s not because of the cocktail of hard liquor still swirling around at the bottom of it. Holy shit. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Jimin’s smile is just as pretty now as it was last weekend.
It’s probably a good thing that Jungkook is still wearing his face mask and that his hat covers most of his eyes, otherwise Jimin would be able to see the way he’s gaping at him.
Jimin works here?
Honestly, if Jimin wasn’t standing right next to his table, asking what he wants to drink, then Jungkook wouldn’t have guessed that he even works there. He's not wearing a uniform or anything. Jimin is dressed simply, wearing light jeans and a plain grey t-shirt, and there’s a dainty silver hoop in one of his ears. It’s nothing special, but still, Jungkook can’t help but think that he looks so good.
Jungkook spends a few seconds just staring at Jimin, something akin to excitement buzzing through him. His lips curl into a smug smile behind his face mask.
Today just got significantly less shitty.
“I’m not gonna lie,” Jungkook starts, words lilting teasingly. “I’m kind of offended that you’re treating me like a stranger right now.”
Jimin blinks down at him, uncertain. “I…” There’s a beat of hesitation on his part, smile wavering, but he maintains it out of politeness. “I’m sorry.” Jimin's head tilts to the side. He kind of reminds Jungkook of a puppy. “Do I know you?”
“I guess you could say that.” Jungkook hums. Slowly, he begins to shed his disguise, dropping his hat onto the seat next to him. “I mean,” he gives his hair a good tousle, knows it’s probably already a mess, “you did beg me to come all over your face.” Jungkook lowers his face mask, tucking it underneath his chin. He flashes Jimin a smile. “So I guess you could say we know each other pretty well.”
Jimin’s eyes go wide as realization floods through them. A flush of colour spreads over his face, creeping all the way up to the tips of his ears. He looks like he wants to crawl underneath one of the tables to hide. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook grins. “I do recall you saying those words a few times that night.”
Jimin flounders, his mouth opening and closing, and god, Jungkook is having so much fun. His cheeks feel kind of funny– a little tingly. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d smiled this wide.
“What? You still don’t remember?” Jungkook prods, his smugness only growing when Jimin doesn’t say anything. He cocks an eyebrow, leaning back against the booth in a finely tuned display of nonchalance. “I’m the guy who fucked you so good you cried–”
“Shh!” Jimin finally snaps, scowling as he holds a finger up to his mouth. The blush he’s wearing now is the exact same shade of pink that his cheeks turned when Jungkook was fucking him into his couch last weekend. Jimin looks around, whipping his head from side to side as if to make sure no one had heard Jungkook’s comment. When his eyes settle on Jungkook again, there’s fire in them.
Jungkook likes playing with fire.
“So.” Jungkook says, gaze drifting, leisurely browsing the diner. “You work here, hey?”
Jimin crosses his arms over his chest. “I do.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting?”
Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Thought you’d work somewhere else.” Drumming his fingers on the table, Jungkook pauses, searching for the right words. “Somewhere more…” He waves his hand, gesturing vaguely. “Luxurious.”
Jimin furrows his eyebrows. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He demands, standing with his hands on his hips.
He’s cute.
Distantly, Jungkook realizes that he no longer feels the painful throbbing at the front of his head. His hangover has vanished– it’s a miracle.
“It doesn’t mean anything bad.” Jungkook says. “It’s just that you’re pretty. Thought you would’ve worked somewhere… different.”
Jimin narrows his eyes. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
“You certainly seemed to think so last weekend.”
Jimin bristles, biting down hard on his lip, like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something he knows he’ll regret. “Listen." He says after a moment. "As tempting as it is to stay and chat with someone as pleasant as yourself, I’ve gotta get back to work. So, if you’ll excuse me–”
“What, you aren’t even gonna take my order?” Jungkook asks. There’s something so satisfying about riling Jimin up. “Is this your first day on the job or something?”
Oh, Jimin did not like that one. Jimin levels him with a glare that might be intimidating if Jungkook didn’t know what he looks like covered in his cum.
A few seconds pass in silence.
An artificially sweet smile spreads over Jimin’s face. “Would you like to order something?” He asks through gritted teeth. “Sir?”
“Sir?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Now that’s not very nice. I mean, I think it’s safe to say we’re on a first-name basis.”
An exasperated puff of air pushes past Jimin’s lips. “Just tell me what you want.”
Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off Jimin. He takes his time dragging them up and down his body. Something hot licks up his spine. “You.”
Jimin laughs at that, though it sounds a little harsher than the giggles Jungkook heard from him before. He rests his palms flat on the table and bends down a little, though he’s still too far away for Jungkook’s liking. “I’m not on the menu.”
Jungkook smirks, leaning forward to invade Jimin's personal space. “That didn’t stop you from letting me get a taste of you last weekend.”
Jimin’s eyes flash, though Jungkook can’t quite tell what flashes through them. He withdraws quickly, standing up straight again. “Look, if you’re not going to be ordering anything from the menu, then I have no reason to talk to you.” The words are firm, edged with well-practised professionalism. “There are other customers I have to tend to.”
Jungkook smiles. “Yeah, but aren’t I your favourite one?”
“Have a wonderful day, sir.” Jimin beams at him, so bright and so wide and so undeniably fake. “Thank you so much for stopping by.” Leaving it at that, Jimin swiftly turns on his heel. He walks away, leaving Jungkook with his smile still perched on his lips.
Jungkook can’t help but chuckle to himself. There’s a weird sort of energy buzzing through him– or maybe it’s just the coke from the night before. Whatever it is and whatever it’s from, it’s putting him in a far better mood than the one he’d been in earlier that day.
He stays at the diner for a little while longer, probably no more than thirty minutes. Jimin doesn’t glance at his table even once. It’s funny– Jimin is funny.
At one point, the pounding in Jungkook's head starts up again, his hangover making its rounds. He decides that he’ll just get a hotel room, crash there for a few nights to recover without the threat of his manager barging in on him.
He suits up to go outside again, throwing on his hat and pulling up his face mask. When he slides out of the booth, he pulls out his wallet and tosses some money onto the table. Jimin could probably use a tip.
After sparing one last glance at Jimin (shamelessly staring while Jimin steadfastly ignores him as he pours coffee for an elderly couple), Jungkook slips out of the diner.
A part of him almost wishes that he’d said one last thing to Jimin before leaving – something else that would make his face go red and his eyes go wide. But, Jungkook figures that he’d put Jimin through enough already. Not only that, but Jimin didn’t look like he'd give Jungkook the time of day even if he did try to say something else to him.
Keeping his head down, Jungkook watches his feet as he walks. He thinks to himself, briefly considering heading home just to grab a change of clothes–
“Hey!”
He’s yanked from his thoughts very suddenly, the sound of Jimin’s voice stopping him in his tracks.
Looks like Jimin isn’t done with him after all.
When Jungkook spins around, he’s met with the sight of a sour-faced Jimin chasing him down the street.
“What’s your problem?” Jimin demands.
“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks. He isn’t sure exactly what has Jimin so miffed, but he can’t deny the spark of satisfaction he feels in the pit of his stomach, pleased to have the attention of an indignant Jimin once more.
Jimin stops a few feet away from him, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. “I’m not a prostitute you know– I don’t wanna be paid for sex.” He snaps.
Jungkook raises his eyebrows, mildly perplexed, but mostly amused. “I don’t remember ever calling you one. Or ever paying you for sex, either.”
“Then what’s with all the money you left on the table?”
Jungkook shrugs. “You’re a server. It was a tip.”
“Please.” Jimin scoffs. “I didn’t serve you anything.” He points, jabbing a finger in Jungkook’s direction. “And you wouldn’t have left that money if we didn’t have sex.”
“How do you know? Maybe I would’ve. Maybe I’m just a generous guy.”
“Yeah, for some reason, I find that hard to believe.”
“Ouch.”
“And–” Frustration clearly getting the best of him, Jimin huffs, shoving a hand through his hair. “And who the hell leaves a 500,000 won tip, anyway?”
Jungkook grins, casually rolling his shoulders. “Someone who has money to blow, and just so happens to like blowing it on pretty things.”
Jimin's mouth drops open, expression morphing into something caught between annoyance and awe. “What do–” He shakes his head, looking like he's struggling to make sense of Jungkook's words. “How do you have that much money to blow?" He finally asks. "What do you even do? Who even are you?”
And now, it’s Jungkook’s mouth that drops open. He stares at Jimin, stares at the look of sheer bewilderment on his face. And that’s when Jungkook realizes something.
Jimin really has no idea who he is. To Jimin, Jungkook is just someone that he hooked up with last weekend– some random guy who has more money than he knows what to do with.
That night they had sex, Jungkook thought that Jimin was just playing coy, he thought Jimin was pretending like he didn’t know who he was. Jungkook thought Jimin was only acting like he had no idea that he's one of the most famous solo rappers in all of South Korea.
But no. Jimin really had no idea– he has no idea.
And strangely, Jungkook isn’t upset by that. In fact, he actually finds himself wanting to laugh. He decides right then and there that he isn’t finished with Jimin just yet.
“Jeon Jungkook.” He says, and even though his mouth is hidden behind his mask, the amused quirk to his lips can be heard in his voice. “Look me up when you get home tonight.” Honestly, Jungkook had been fully prepared to leave that diner and never come back, but now, he has to come back.
Jimin lifts his chin, silent as he holds Jungkook’s gaze. He eyes Jungkook warily, though Jungkook can recognize that there’s a hint of curiosity underlying that wariness.
Good.
“You’d better get back to work now." Jungkook says. "Don’t you have other customers to tend to?” And, feeling rather satisfied with himself and the glare that Jimin gives him, he raises two fingers to his forehead, giving Jimin a mock salute. With that, Jungkook turns around and continues on down the sidewalk.
Jungkook’s day had started out pretty shitty, but getting to see Jimin and getting to make him squirm had helped perk him up.
Jimin is fun to tease. And not only that, but he’s a good fuck too.
And honestly, the sex that Jungkook has been having since his night with Jimin has been mediocre at best. Jungkook doesn’t usually hook up with the same person more than once, but he wouldn’t mind fucking Jimin again.
Shaking his head, Jungkook smirks to himself.
Jimin, who has a pretty smile and a face to match, who looks like a model but works in a shabby diner off the beaten path– who doesn’t even know that Jungkook is a rapper.
When Jungkook’s phone vibrates in his pocket, he almost doesn’t check it, automatically assuming that it’s his manager trying to reach him again. But, he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees that it’s actually a text from Minsoo. Apparently, there’s an after-party still going on at his place right now. The throbbing in Jungkook’s head is back again, coming and going in waves.
He types out a quick reply to Minsoo to tell him that he’s on his way, and then he orders himself an Uber.
Jungkook knows from first-hand experience that the best way to cure a hangover is to get drunk all over again.