Chapter Text
There are three things you should know about Jeon Jungkook, because hopefully, it will help explain the absolute madness that this situation has become.
- He becomes easily obsessed. As in... he wants to start running? Well, he’s going to train for a marathon right away. He likes a certain sweatshirt? He’s going to buy it in every single color it comes in. He comes across a new song? He’s going to listen to it a hundred times in three days.
- He is competitive. There isn’t a challenge or dare outrageous enough, and if there’s the slight possibility that someone may outperform him in any aspect of his life? Well, see point three. He won’t let that happen.
- He is relentless. It’s like an unscratchable itch he can’t help but scratch, and scratch, and scratch. He will not quit until he has what he wants, and he will go to great lengths to succeed. It served him well in his past athletic career, and it makes him a fantastic sales guy. Bust mostly, it drives his friends crazy.
Now that we have that out of the way, perhaps the story that is about to follow is easier to grasp.
It’s not easy existing in the world he has created for himself. Well, it’s not terrible, because he has a great job, he makes a shit ton of money, and he loves being the best, especially at work.
But it’s exhausting to stay in this mindset, but he can’t really switch gears now, because he needs to be the best. Like he said: it’s a problem.
Ultimately he will come face to face with the inevitable, and he will reach the point of diminish returns; when he can’t keep going at this pace, chasing goals, quotas, and unattainable goals without rest. But that day isn’t today.
In a way, he thrives on how much it annoys his friends. Perhaps it’s because he’s the youngest, always eager to poke and prod, not worried if he will get away with it. Because he always have, and he always will.
All it takes is one wide smile and a nose scrunch, and even his most impenetrable friends roll their eyes and forgive him for whatever shit idea he just had that inevitably caused madness. That’s just who he is.
So, as you can see, Jungkook can be quite the insufferable, cocky, yet very lovable brat. The lovable just doesn’t come out right away. But it’s in there, hidden out of view.
“Are you listening?”
It’s Jung Hoseok who snaps him out of his thoughts this morning. He’s been known to zone out, but that’s not what’s happening right now.
No, Jungkook is fucking furious, because the new guy at work, the one who came so highly recommended from some overseas firm, has somehow managed to land the biggest client the firm has ever seen, and that’s not how things go in his department.
See point two. That’s Jungkook’s job.
The guy whose name he doesn’t care to learn still doesn’t pull the amount of revenue Jungkook does, but an unsettling feeling in his stomach makes him wonder if he will once he gets more settled, and he can absolutely not have that. Once again—it’s a problem.
“I’m not,” Jungkook whispers under his breath, careful to not disrupt the stupid meeting though he doesn’t care to hear any more about new guy’s accomplishments. “What is it?”
Hoseok lets out a small chuckle.
“I’ll tell you later. Just pay attention.”
So he does. He listens to their quarterly goals and the new clients they’ve landed. He smiles and nods, doing his part when his boss sings his praises, his ego inflating even though it probably can’t get any bigger.
It makes him feel better.
But then his phone buzzes in his pant pocket, and he tries to ignore it, but whoever it is sends two subsequent text messages immediately following, and because he is unable to help himself, he digs his phone out of his pocket under the table, glancing down at screen.
It’s three text messages from an unknown number.
As always, curiosity gets the best of him, so he clicks the text messages, eager to see what this could be.
Probably someone who has the wrong number.
Unknown Number [09:34:25]
I just want to say thanks, man! This jacket is sick.
Unknown Number [09:34:28]
*Image Attached*
Unknown Number [09:34:32]
Honestly surprised anyone would ever part with it.
I’ll treasure it
An audible curse escapes him. An honest to God ‘what the fuck,’ thankfully low enough to not disrupt their chief financial officer’s reporting. But it’s loud enough to startle Hoseok who turns around with wide eyes, wordlessly begging him to get it together, looking absolutely done with him.
Yeah, it’s not the first time he needs to be told by Hoseok.
The person who’s texted him doesn’t have the wrong number. No, it’s the right one, there’s no doubt about that, because whoever this is has his jacket. And he just sent him a photo of himself wearing it.
It’s the jacket he has treasured since he bought it during his senior year of college. The black one he spent way too much money on, and the one he loved so much, because it always got him laid, without fail. And he got so many compliments on this jacket, year after year, and he really shouldn’t have been so attached to a piece of clothing, but there’s a lot of things he shouldn’t have been.
He treasured this jacket so much that he sharpied ‘this belongs to JJK’ and wrote this phone number on the inside of it. He can’t tell you why, but he did.
That’s how much he loved this jacket.
And if we refer back to point one, then maybe you’re wondering why he didn’t buy it in more colors? Well, it was some sort of exclusive, Scandinavian designer, and he was poor in college, so he couldn’t exactly indulge in his obsession.
Then, during one of the most tragic nights out that he’s ever had the displeasure of living through, he lost the jacket.
It was entirely self-inflicted. He was out with Yoongi and Hoseok, celebrating his latest promotion, and one bottle of champagne quickly became three, and then Seokjin, who they ran into on accident, suggested shots.
And if you haven’t caught on by now, Jungkook doesn’t exactly say no to a challenge. So they did shots.
The night became blurry around one am. The last memory he has of his beloved jacket is shrugging it off his shoulders, shouting something along the lines of ‘this cannot get sprayed with Champagne,’ but he was already five shots in, so he doesn’t recall exactly what he said. At least he had enough wits to protect it, so he put the jacket on the couch, and when he woke up the next morning, there wasn’t a trace of it.
He searched high and low for it. Even called the bar and asked about it, pleading for them to look for it in his hangover haze. In a particularly desperate attempt he went on a resell site, ready to drop some serious cash, but he couldn’t even find one to buy.
But apparently, Mr. Unknown Number has found his most treasured jacket. He stares at the text chain in disbelief.
Jeon Jungkook [09:36:40]
Where did you get this?
Just to be sure it’s his, he zooms in on the photo. Maybe it isn’t his, he thinks for a second, but then the logical part of his brain catches up, because how else would this guy have his number?
The small patch on the left arm confirms that it is indeed his beloved jacket, because he had to patch a tear after he and Yoongi accidentally fell into a bush when they were trying to carry each other home after yet another drunken adventure.
Unknown Number [09:37:02]
The thrift shop on 3rd?
Someone took his beloved jacket to the thrift shop?!
Jeon Jungkook [09:37:20]
You’re fucking with me, right?
You didn’t grab it off a booth at Sapphire?
Unknown Number [09:37:25]
I got this fair and square, my man.
He keeps himself from letting out more expletives, and when he hears a poignant pause from their CFO, he diverts his eyes from his phone to pay attention to the presentation instead, one hundred percent ready to be embarrassed for his blatant disrespect.
Thankfully, it’s a technical issue, and not directed at Jungkook’s distraction. Relieved, he focuses his attention back on the text messages, because he doesn’t learn from his mistakes.
Jeon Jungkook [09:39:11]
How much did you pay?
Unknown Number [09:41:22]
lol. Why? You wanna buy it back?
A glimmer of hope flashes in his chest, and a bit of annoyance, because he shouldn’t have to buy his own jacket back. He already paid for it once.
He’s willing to look past it, though.
Jeon Jungkook [09:41:50]
Please. Whatever you paid, I’ll pay you 4x that
He’s willing to drop a whole lot more than he thinks that’ll come out to, but he’s not going to show his full hand just yet.
Unknown Number [09:42:01]
Nah, sorry. Not interested. Thanks, though. It’s sick.
And to his absolute fucking horror, the guy has the audacity to sign off with a kiss emoji. Bright, loud, and absolutely meant to taunt him.
Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
In a display of absolute immaturity, he throws his cell phone on the table. Thankfully, the group is immersed in a lively debate about something he can’t be bothered to care about right now, though he knows he should care, because otherwise new guy may gain even more of an upper hand.
That pisses him off even more.
Before he does something stupid, he forces his eyes shut. He focuses on his heartbeat, willing it to slow down by pressing a breath through his nose, thinking about those stupid breathing exercises Namjoon always talks about.
God fucking damn it.
The day drags on with more meetings. His anger simmers down just slightly, and maybe it helps a little when he sees that he’s still leading his region and the nation when they get on their national sales call. Serves the new guy right.
But he’s still not over it. Far from it.
When he finally has a moment alone in his office, he pulls the photo back up. The thief—yes, he knows, he got it ‘fair and square’—is smart. The photo cuts off right at his neckline, so he can’t make out his face, only his body.
Not that it matters, because it isn’t like Jungkook has some sort of facial recognition software that he can run this guy through to find his identity.
Yes, he did entertain that thought.
Yes, he is out of his mind.
If he wasn’t so mad about this, he’d appreciate the man in the photo. He’s tall and slender, standing in front of a full length mirror. He’s all legs in a pair of tan slacks and a white Celine t-shirt, looking expensive and surprisingly put together in such a casual fit.
And the jacket doesn’t help.
His jacket. The one that makes people want to fuck him, so yeah, it’s going to look good on an attractive body.
It’s obviously infuriating.
He zooms in on the surroundings in some sort of attempt to see if there’s anything that will give a hint of the man’s identity away. It’s a feeble attempt, because what does he expect to find? His name and address laying around?
Wherever the man is looks fancy. A big closet, a walk-in one, it seems, filled with racks of clothing and some fancy hardwood floors. He can see a tray of watches behind him, and some exceptionally nice looking suits.
The point of this is that there doesn’t seem to be a shortage of clothing, and he certainly doesn’t need Jungkook’s jacket.
Normally, Jungkook wouldn’t judge someone by so little. But this involves his jacket, so all his morals are irrelevant. Gone out the window somewhere far away.
To no one’s surprise, Jungkook can’t find anything in the photo. Except a set of striking legs and a jacket he can’t stop obsessing about.
“What had your panties in a bunch this morning?”
Hoseok stalks into his office with Min Yoongi in tow, who’s looking a whole lot more uninterested than Hoseok is. They both make themselves at home, plopping down in the leather chairs in his seating area, and Yoongi takes the liberty to prop his feet up on his table. They’ve been over this before, so many times, but he chooses to not pick this battle right now.
He has a war to win.
“Don’t even get me started,” Jungkook sighs. “I got a text from this random dude. Apparently he found my jacket.”
“The jacket you sulked about for months after you lost it at Sapphire?” Yoongi asks.
“Yup.” Jungkook reaches for his phone, tossing it in their direction with the photo pulled open. “Feel free to read the text chain.”
Both the men huddle next to each other, scrolling the brief but infuriating text chain. He watches intently for any type of reaction, but he comes up feeling absolutely betrayed when Yoongi breaks out in a laugh so violent his shoulders shake.
“You know, I kind of respect this man,” Yoongi says once he calms down. “He does make a point, he got it fair and square.”
“It’s my jacket!”
“What are you? A child?” Hoseok calls him out. “It’s not his fault that he found it at a thrift shop?”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m always on your side, but you’re being ridiculous. Let it go.”
Telling Jungkook to let it go is like telling a toddler no.
It’s going to have the exact opposite reaction.
He slams the lid to his laptop shut, doing nothing but proving Hoseok’s point.
“Come on. Let’s go grab drinks.”
Maybe that will get his mind off things.
“Sure,” Hoseok stands up, dusting his slacks off. “I’m going to let Jake know. We told him we’d take him to our happy hour spot this week.”
“Who’s Jake?”
“The new guy?” Hoseok pats Jungkook’s shoulder on the way out of his office, catching him off guard with the force he puts into it. “He’s super cool. You’ll like him.”
New guy? The fuck he will.
Forty-eight hours pass him by, and he only picks up his phone three times to look at the photo of the thief again. He finds nothing new, of course, and since he is both obsessive and relentless, he decides, against his better judgement, to send a text to the person in question.
This time, he tries a different approach.
Jeon Jungkook [13:11:34]
Hi again. I know you said you’re not interested in selling the jacket, but would you reconsider if I told you I’m unhealthily attached to it? It holds a bunch of memories and someone really close to me gifted it to me. I’ve been searching all over for it, and it would mean a lot to me
It’s not a lie. He really is close to himself. Jungkook is obsessive, competitive, and relentless, but he isn’t a liar.
The text message delivers, but no response comes through. He stares at the chain for a few seconds before he realizes it’s not going to make an answer magically appear, so he shuts his phone, going back to work instead.
It’s not until he’s on a video call with a client that the response comes through. Now, it may not seem like it, but Jungkook does have a little bit of self-restraint, and he does take his job seriously. So he silences his phone and doesn’t check the text message until he gets off the call.
Which is a good thing.
Unknown Number [16:28:45]
That’s cute
Jeon Jungkook [16:58:59]
What?
Dots appear immediately. He’s caught him in real time.
Unknown Number [16:59:02]
That’s cute, but no. Told you I’m not interested
Jeon Jungkook [16:59:14]
Just name your price, dude. I’ll pay for shipping too
Unknown Number [16:59:30]
Highly doubt you can afford it.
In a move he cannot explain nor rationalize, he calls the stranger.
As in he presses the phone icon and calls, like some sort of unhinged maniac. It’s not until he hears the ringing on the other end that he realizes what he’s doing.
It’s too late to back out, but as we’ve established… he’s relentless.
“Did you just call me?” A deep, gravelly voice asks, catching Jungkook by surprise. “You must be desperate.”
The man sounds surprised, but there’s amusement to his tone, like he can’t believe Jungkook just did that. Which, fair enough, because Jungkook can’t either.
“That’s how much this jacket means to me.”
The man chuckles at his desperation.
“I’m still not interested in selling it. Sorry, love,” he says, speaking to him like they’re old friends. It’s infuriating how light and breezy this man is. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook drops his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead. He weighs his options, running the scenarios in his head. Any one he comes up with paints him like some sort of psycho, though.
He knows he’s not getting anywhere here, and he’s been in sales long enough to know when a no means no, and when there’s room to push it. This is the former.
“No, that’s it,” he relents, and for the first time in a long time, Jungkook feels defeated. “Thanks.”
He hangs up without listening to the other man’s response.
Figures it’s something mocking, anyway.
It throws him off his game, and the whole part about becoming obsessed is that it occupies his mind 24/7. Hoseok eventually tells him to go get himself checked out, because there’s no way that this sort of hyper-fixation can be rationalized. Whatever. He’ll think of something. He always does.
“Are you doing okay?”
Namjoon lifts the barbell from his chest, where Jungkook lays like some sort of helpless fish, kicking his legs when he can’t push the barbell up, forgetting everything he knows about pushing through his heels.
His gym partner doesn’t hesitate, pulling it off his chest and racking it with ease when he realizes Jungkook is a lost cause.
“Do I look okay?” Jungkook sits up, pivoting on the bench to turn to Namjoon. He narrows his eyes, because the question is stupid. “You just had to spot me benching 80 kg. Obviously I’m not.”
“Obviously.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, stacking another set of plates on the bar. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Jungkook should check his ego at the door when he enters the gym, but he never does. He should check it a lot more places than that.
“It’s nothing.”
He waves a hand in the air to dismiss him, then he trades spots with Namjoon. The man slides down on the bench, not even seeming bothered when he grips the barbell and lowering it to his chest. He definitely doesn’t need a spot, and if he didn’t like Namjoon so much, he’d be pissed about it.
“I know you’re lying.”
And now he’s talking between reps. Maybe those breathing exercises are good for something?
“It’s stupid.” It’s not beneath him to admit that. “You’re going to laugh.”
“Try me?”
Namjoon racks the barbell after his set of five, then he turns around to look at Jungkook. A sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he wipes it with his shirt, exposing his abs when it lifts, and Jungkook can’t help it, eyes lingering on his friend’s stomach. He’s only human.
It doesn’t escape his gym partner, who calls him out with an inquisitive glance.
“I’ve always liked your abs, fucking sue me.” He shrugs his shoulders, never one to hide. “Anyway. Someone found my jacket.”
“That’s great, Jungkook.”
“It’s not,” he sighs. “Someone took it to the thrift shop, and this guy bought it. He texted me, because, you know, I wrote my name in it.”
“I remember,” Namjoon snorts. “I also remember asking to borrow it, which I’ll never do again.”
The memory pulls a smile from Jungkook.
“I asked if I could buy it back, but he’s being a dick about it.”
He shows him the text messages. Namjoon looks them over, always serious, then he sighs, handing the phone back to Jungkook.
“Look, Jungkook.”
Oh no. Something rational and logical is coming.
“Let it go. You had come to terms with losing it in the first place. You’re only obsessing because you can. Because it’s a challenge.”
“I can’t help it,” Jungkook whines. Namjoon has the ability to bring out this side of him, because he knows he’ll never judge him. “It’s like a sick obsession in my head. I need it back. It consumes me.”
“When would you even wear it? You’re too busy to go out like you did when we were in college.”
He slips the plates off the barbell, busying himself so he doesn’t have to deal with the truth being thrown at him right away.
“That’s not the point.”
More sulking.
“Well, I’m making it the point. Let it go. Again. You’ll be better for it.”
“I don’t want to be better.”
“That’s a fucking lie and you know it,” Namjoon grins. “Besides, there’s no reason I should bench more than you, so this sick obsession of yours isn’t making you any better. Remember the point of diminishing returns? Teetering a little too close to the edge, my man.”
“I hate you.”
Jungkook throws his sweaty towel at Namjoon, who catches it with ease, lobbing it right back at him.
“I know you don’t. Come on,” Namjoon nods toward the other end of the gym. “Bet you can’t do more push ups than me.”
And Jungkook never turns down a challenge.
“Bet.”
Exercise has always been his go-to, and the monotony of the repetition serves as some sort of meditation, because he does feel better by the time he leaves, and he decides to make an effort.
Perhaps he’s matured just slightly, because he does decide to let it go. It takes him a couple more days to reach that decision, but one morning, after a particularly nice meeting with new guy (who also surprises him by being razor sharp and nice), he decides to work on being a better version of himself.
Without jotting the phone number down anywhere, he deletes the text chain, forever erasing the evidence of his beloved jacket now belonging to someone else. And this way, he removes the temptation to reach back out and asking about it again.
To be sure, he even wipes his outgoing calls. Like he said, he’s really trying.
Does it feel good? He hasn’t decided yet. But Namjoon did make a good point. He had come to terms with losing it already, and there’s no reason to obsess over something that doesn’t bring him joy. Directing his energy on work is better, because at least that rewards him in tangible ways.
He loves Namjoon, but he hates how he can evoke all these self-reflecting thoughts by saying so little.
So he lets it go.
He moves on with his life, no matter how much it pains him to do so.
Then, in some sort of weird, twist of fate, the universe decides to mock him, because jacket thief texts him again.
This time, it’s a photo of him wearing the jacket, once again with his face cut off, and it’s followed by a simple text.
Unknown Number [22:45:10]
What do you think? Do I wear it well?
Jungkook nearly drops his phone when he opens the text message. He springs up, sitting straight up in bed and digging for his glasses on the nightstand, needing to get a better look.
There’s no fucking way this guy is taunting him.
He is. The man is standing in a bathroom of what looks to be a restaurant or a bar, his head tipped back to the side, just enough to catch a glance of his jaw line from his side profile. He’s posing like he’s making a show of himself, and it awakens something terribly ugly within Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook [22:46:22]
You don’t
Too mad to think of anything more constructive, he leaves it at that.
Unknown Number [22:47:01]
Aw, don’t be like that. I know I look good
That is entirely besides the point. Jungkook doesn’t give a shit about what this man looks like, other than the fact that he has his jacket on. He knows he said he’d let it go, but this is not his fault. He did let it go. Jacket guy is instigating this. It’s entirely outside of his control.
Jeon Jungkook [22:47:09]
Fuck off, man.
He zooms in on the photo again, and it takes him a few seconds, but he does recognize the accents of the bathroom now that he has his glasses on. He knows exactly where this man is — and for someone who claims he didn’t swipe it off a couch at Sapphire, he sure as hell is sending him a photo wearing his jacket in said night club.
Unknown Number [22:47:34]
I’m gonna start calling it my ‘come fuck me’ jacket. Gets me laid every time
Jeon Jungkook [22:47:57]
Highly doubt that. Didn’t realize Sapphire was your scene.
It takes the man a few minutes to answer, the dots appearing and disappearing.
Unknown Number [22:50:02]
It is. You gonna come find me?
The universe is making it very difficult for him to practice self-restraint right now.
Jeon Jungkook [22:50:10]
Nah, you’re not worth it
Unknown Number [22:50:29]
Cute. You’re all bark no bite, huh?
How this man, this stranger, has the ability to make him so angry is beyond him. Before he does something utterly stupid, like stumble out of bed and get dressed to go out, he tosses the phone at the edge of the bed, away from himself.
Who is this guy? And why is he hell bent on being such an ass? Frustrated, he trows his head back against the pillow, then he wraps it around his face, burying himself in his self pity.
“Be the bigger person,” he mumbles into it, but he knows he’s speaking words he doesn’t want to believe. He’s heard somewhere that people need to hear important information six times for it to stick, so he keeps going. “Be the bigger person. Be the bigger person.”
He repeats the mantra, and eventually, he must fall asleep. When he wakes up the next morning it’s with his glasses on the floor and his phone dangling on the edge of the bed, the battery almost drained.
And because the universe is determined to test his already marginal patience, there’s another text message there.
Unknown Number [01:17:53]
Knew you didn’t have it in you
When Jungkook tells you it takes all of the willpower his mind and body possess to not answer the text message, he means it. Before he’s even done brewing the morning’s first cup of coffee, he’s deleted the text message chain, again.
And it should stop there. But what would be the point of learning self-restraint and building character if it did?
The text messages keep coming. It’s at random hours off the day, sometimes in the middle of the night, and they don’t really say anything. It’s just random photos of the man in the jacket. Out and about, in front of a mirror in a dressing room, and there’s even one with him and his friend, who he also can’t make out in the photo.
But the point is that he doesn’t engage. What he does is turn on his read receipts for this particular person, who he now has saved as ‘Fuck Boy With My Jacket.’
That way this menacing terror can have the satisfaction of knowing he’s not getting a reaction, but Jungkook is seeing everything, leaving him on read.
Jungkook eventually came such a long way with the whole self-control thing and ‘being the bigger person’ that he felt comfortable saving his number. He’s clearly proven that he can refrain from calling or texting him.
But fuck boy with his jacket? The same clearly cannot be said for him. He’s obviously determined to annoy Jungkook as much as he possibly can.
The worst part about this whole situation? Jungkook kind of enjoys this. Enjoys the game they’re playing, in some sort of reversed-psychology way. And he also knows that if the shoe was on the other foot, he’d probably be the same.
And you know how Jungkook is known to be a menace to society? Well, apparently so is fuck boy with his jacket.
Because when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he starts sending photos that get a different reaction.
It’s the middle of the workday when a text comes in, and since he’s waiting for Seokjin to confirm the details for his birthday celebration this weekend, he checks his phone immediately.
It’s almost impossible to catch Seokjin in real time. The model’s career had taken off in the last couple of years, and squeezing in time to see him between his shoots, jet setting, and overall crazy lifestyle is hard, so he checks his phone immediately, though he’s in a meeting with Yoongi and their division head.
Fuck Boy With My Jacket [13:48:00]
What do you think of this?
Jungkook drops his phone. It lands face-up on the table, and thankfully, his reflexes are fast enough for him to press his palm over the screen, hiding it from his company’s view.
Fuck boy with his jacket has sent him a photo of himself again, but this time, he’s taken it too far.
He can’t be sure what the exact details are, because there’s no way Jungkook is chancing it by looking at this right now, but what he did catch a glimpse of was risqué. What the fuck is this guy thinking?
“Everything okay?” Yoongi asks, looking genuinely concerned.
No. Everything is not okay.
“Yup.”
He lies through his teeth, then he slides the phone back into his pocket, but not before putting it on do not disturb.
It’s like a repeat of all those weeks ago. The rest of the meeting passes in a blur, he can't tell you what they discuss, and the second it concludes, Jungkook hightails it to his office, slamming the door behind him. He leans over his desk, pressing his hands against it as he steadies his breath, not sure if he’s worked up from the sheer fucking audacity of this man, or the fact that he sent him such an exposing photo.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, then he slides into one of his armchairs, not bothering with pretending to sit in front of his computer to work. He shakes his head, then he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
Another text.
Fuck Boy With My Jacket [13:49:21]
Aw, look at you silencing your notifications.
You doing ok?
He audibly groans, too stunned for any other reaction.
The man is seated on his bed, his legs spread wide in a pair of gray sweatpants, and there’s no hiding how he’s hard in his sweats, a hand loosely grabbing his cock over his pants.
But it doesn’t stop there.
The shot is angled to cut out his face, as it always is, and there’s a full frontal shot of his bare chest and stomach, showing toned, faint traces of abs and glistening, golden skin.
And of course the jacket hangs off his shoulders, because why wouldn’t the man provoke him like this?
His eyes swipe over the screen, and he swallows, not caring to pretend he isn’t affected by the astounding visual in front of him.
He cannot show weakness.
Jeon Jungkook [14:30:02]
A bit presumptuous to send a photo like that to me, no?
Surprisingly, he receives an immediate response.
Fuck Boy With My Jacket [14:30:16]
Hardly. You said you lost this at Sapphire. That tells me everything I need to know
Jungkook throws his head back in frustration, thumping it against the wall a few times. The man isn’t wrong, and that’s absolutely infuriating.
Fuck Boy With My Jacket [14:32:29]
Did my photo startle you, love? Took you look enough to respond
There are several ways he wants to shut this man up, and after recent revelations, a few more options linger in his mind.
Fuuuuck.
Jeon Jungkook [14:33:01]
I have a job, sweetheart. I was in a meeting.
How did they get here?
Fuck Boy With My Jacket [14:33:20]
So what you’re saying is that I won’t get a pic in return rn?
He shouldn’t play this game. There’s absolutely no reason to entertain whatever this is, and in the back of his mind, he can hear Namjoon’s words echoing their warning.
There’s a way to shut this down. A simple way to tell the man he has it all wrong, block his number, and move on with his life.
But as you all know by now, that is not in Jeon Jungkook’s world view.
Jeon Jungkook [14:33:45]
That’s not why you won’t get a pic in return
Fuck Boy With My Jacket [14:34:04]
Why I won’t get a pic in return, yet*
Fuck Boy With My Jacket [14:34:11]
I’m patient, love. And I never turn down a challenge
A sinking feeling settles in his stomach, because maybe, just maybe, this guy is as insane as Jungkook.
He pretends that he doesn’t answer because he wants to be in control, but deep down, he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s getting himself into, so he silences his phone again, then he turns his attention back to his job.
Unfortunately, fuck boy with his jacket has conditioned him like some sort of pavlovian dog. Anytime his phone buzzes, he freezes with terror, but he stays quiet for the next few days, not taunting him with any more text messages. He only has half of a heart attack when his phone rings from an unknown number.
It can’t be the bane of his existence, because he actually saved that phone number.
“Hello?” He still treads lightly, surprised to not hear his normal self-confidence reflected in his greeting.
Fuck, Jungkook. Get it together.
“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin’s voice is loud and boisterous, and he lets out a relieved breath, slumping down in his chair when he realizes it’s his friend. “How are you?”
“Did you change your number? I almost didn’t answer.”
“Yeah, someone leaked it,” Seokjin says. “But let’s not worry about that. Are we still on for Friday?”
“Of course,” Jungkook shuts his computer down, focusing on the conversation. He rarely gets to speak to Seokjin, and he deserves his full attention. “Tell me when and where, hyung.”
“Sapphire at 8. Don’t be late.”
Jungkook resists the urge to snort, because it’s always Seokjin they wait on. Because as he insists, it’s important to always be fashionably late. Especially when you are fashion itself.
“I’ll be there.”
“I know you will. I’m bringing a friend. Hope you don’t mind.”
“You know I won’t.”
“I know. You should bring Namjoon.”
“Oh?” Seokjin makes this too easy for him. “Any particular reason why I should invite him?”
“Because it’s my birthday and I deserve to be celebrated?”
Jungkook can’t hold back this time, laughing at his friend. This gorgeous model, and normally over-confident friend of his somehow turns into a blushing mess around Namjoon, and he refuses to acknowledge it. The man who normally has mad game can’t even extend the invite himself.
Since it is the man’s birthday, he decides to let it slide, but it’s rare he extends this type of slack to anyone.
“I will since it is your birthday, and I’ll refrain from any further comments.”
“As you should,” Seokjin shuts him down immediately. Then, quickly, he speaks again, because everyone is weak for the youngest. “Love you. See you Friday.”
He doesn’t give Jungkook the chance to say it back. It doesn’t matter. He’s just excited to see his friend this weekend. It’s always a good time with Seokjin.
Sapphire rarely disappoints, though he wonders if he’s a bit too old for this scene by now. Seokjin doesn’t seem to think so though, because his friend is five years his senior, and he seems to have zero reservations about hosting his birthday party at the nightclub.
And he’d be a fool for thinking Seokjin wouldn’t go all out. Jungkook finds him already buzzed, a drink in hand and a wide smile plastered on his face when he finds him in the VIP area. He doesn’t miss how they’re seated at the same table where he lost his precious jacket the last time he was here.
He promises he’s put it behind him.
“Jungkook-ah!” The older exclaims, wrapping him in a giant hug and squeezing a little too tightly. “My favorite.”
“Happy birthday, hyung.” He pulls away to take a look at his friend. It’s been way too long since they’ve seen each other, but his friend is as beautiful as ever. “You look good.”
“When do I not?” Seokjin beams.
He regrets bringing it up.
“Namjoon is on his way, so get your game face ready.”
Two can play this game, and Seokjin realizes he shouldn’t be so fucking cocky, his eyes widening slightly at the realization.
“Speaking of friends.”
Seokjin turns around, eyes darting around as he looks for someone in the crowd. He perks up when he finds who he’s looking for, but Jungkook can't tell who it is.
“Hey! Taehyung-ah!”
He yells for someone, and a dark mop of hair pops up from the crowd, meeting Seokjin’s eyes when he hears his name being called.
Jungkook can’t get a good look, but the stranger seems popular, all kinds of people swarming around him. He’s pulled into a hug, and when he makes his way over, several people pull him aside to chat, and it seems that whoever Seokjin has brought is quite the attraction.
Eventually the man breaks free, walking confidently with a wide smile and a drink in hand. His posture is impeccable, his back straight and his head held high.
And Jungkook realizes that yeah, of course this man is popular, because Seokjin has brought no one but Kim Taehyung.
The tall, heart-stopping, and stunning supermodel the whole country is going wild for.
The one who models alongside Seokjin on the International stage for name brands he doesn’t know how to pronounce, and as it turns out, he’s even more stunning in real life.
His dark eyes glimmer when the light of the club catches on them, and his facial features are so sharp he almost wants to reach out and touch, trace his fingertips over his face. There’s not an imperfection to be seen anywhere on his flawless skin. The man might quite possibly be otherworldly, commanding the attention of everyone around him by just existing.
It’s hard for him to tear his eyes away, but something catches his eyes, and he flickers them down over his body.
And for a moment, Jungkook thinks he’s dreaming.
He blinks once, just to make sure he isn’t hallucinating, but once he realizes that he’s very much awake, he bites down on his lip, shoving the laugh that threatening to spill out of him.
Because Kim Taehyung is wearing his fucking jacket, and Jungkook swears that karma is real.
All that self restraint and trying to be the bigger person has paid off, seeing as the universe has just given him the most beautiful gift he’s ever received.
Better than anything else he’s ever been given.
Fuck yes.
Sapphire redeems itself.
But to the model, it appears Jungkook is checking him out, considering his eyes flickered over his body a little too suggestively. Jungkook does not feel an ounce of shame about it, because this could work in his favor.
“Jungkook-ah, this is Taehyung,” Seokjin interrupts, gesturing at the super model as if he needs an introduction. “Taehyung-ah, this is Jungkook.”
The model eyes him curiously, and for a second, Jungkook’s mind flashes to the very inappropriate photo this man has shared of himself.
And yeah, Jungkook can see it, the angle of his jaw that he’s caught glimpses of in the photos he’s looked at too many times to count. But Taehyung doesn’t know this.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Taehyung extends a hand, introducing himself. “Seokjin-hyung won’t shut up about you, and I can see why.”
Oh, okay. This is how this is going to go.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Taehyung-ssi,” he grasps his hand a little harder than he needs to, making a point. “Though you need no introduction.”
It doesn’t phase the man. Surely he’s used to people throwing themselves at him, not shy in singing his praises about how gorgeous the man is.
They’re not wrong. The man is captivating.
“I’m flattered,” Taehyung responds, then he nods toward the booth, gesturing for them to sit down, smiling brightly. “Come on. There’s cake.”
He flashes Jungkook a show-stopping smile, and for a moment, Jungkook forgets that this is the man responsible for so much of his recent suffering. He clears his throat, shaking himself out of his thoughts, then he slides into the booth, enjoying the zap of electricity that shoots through his body, like it always does when he is about to embark on a chase.
Most of the time, Jungkook may not act like he is self-aware, but he’s painfully aware of his behavioral patterns, and he knows for a fact that the man that has his jacket, the gorgeous, tall, and enthralling man sitting on his left, the absolute bane of his existence, is very much his type.
Painstakingly much so.
And he knows that before he becomes too enchanted by him, he needs to send a text to Namjoon, because he cannot afford for this to derail before it even starts.
It was Taehyung who started this game, and Jungkook will be damned if he doesn’t keep it going. And by now you know he is relentless.
Jeon Jungkook [20:45:28]
No questions asked, hyung. Don’t mention a single thing about the jacket tonight. It’ll make sense when you get here.
They rarely whip out the ‘no questions asked,’ but Namjoon owes him one. That’s a story for a different time, though.
Kim Namjoon [20:46:11]
This cannot be good. But copy that.
Jungkook feels victorious before it’s even started, but that’s just his ego. He tucks his phone back in his pocket, focusing his attention on the gorgeous but infuriating man next to him.
“So, Jungkook-ssi,” Taehyung drawls, low and deep. “What do you do for a living?”
He turns to face the model to his left, weighing his options in his mind. It’s too soon to go for it, so he entertains the man, making a point to glance over his face before he answers.
And he fools no one. The instant attraction he feels is real, and he can’t help himself. He wants to reduce this man to nothing, and if he wanted to put this man in his place before he knew who he was, the urge is even greater now.
“Don’t be so formal,” he instructs when he looks back up to lock eyes with Taehyung. “I thought hyung wouldn’t shut up about me? Surely you already know.”
It pulls a delighted laugh from the model.
“Oh, okay,” he nods, then he shakes his head once, clearly not expecting it. “No sense in lying, then. He told me you’re in sales. Maybe I just wanted a conversation starter?”
“Fair enough.”
He enjoys the fact that he called it.
“I normally try to stay away from sales guys, though,” Taehyung surprises him by saying, but he can tell he’s teasing him by the way he bites his lip. “They can be so fucking annoying.”
“Taehyung-ssi,” he scolds, pretending to be hurt. “I think you’re confusing the term with driven, and if you want to take it a step further, perhaps you mean relentless?”
“Call me hyung.” Taehyung takes a sip of his drink, downing the last of its contents. “And are you?”
“Relentless?”
Taehyung nods. “Mmh.”
“I’ve been known to be, yeah.”
Jungkook leans back in the booth, but he makes no effort to hide how his eyes rake over Taehyung’s body, lingering a little too long on his legs and torso. He wishes he didn’t know what he looks underneath his clothes.
“Especially when it’s something I want.”
There’s a shift in the air between them, there’s no doubt about that, and Taehyung notices. He’d have to be oblivious to miss that he’s interested. But he doesn’t miss it, his eyes growing a shade darker as he stares back at Jungkook.
“And I take it you don’t stop until you get what you want?”
Jungkook shakes his head.
“No, I don’t,” he admits, because that isn’t a secret to anyone. “But I can take a no. I’ll respect it.”
There are few things that stand in his way when he wants something, but he isn’t an asshole. He knows when to back down and when to respect boundaries, because he has a set of morals on him, believe it or not.
“I doubt people tell you no.”
It almost makes him laugh out loud.
“You’d be surprised,” he says instead, and Jungkook has half a mind to tell him that Taehyung already has told him no, multiple times, and no matter how much it pained him, he respected it, though he wanted to push.
Then, Taehyung turns the table on him.
“I wouldn’t.”
There is no mistaking what that means, and it sends heat straight to his gut. He shouldn’t entertain this. He knows better.
“No?” Jungkook lifts an eyebrow. “You’re awfully straight forward, aren’t you?”
Taehyung bites down on his lip.
“Yeah. Especially when I know what I want,” he throws Jungkook’s words back at him, not a hint of hesitancy to his voice. “Is that a problem?”
Absolutely not a problem.
“No, it’s not a problem,” Jungkook adds immediately. “And you say sales guys are relentless?”
The model is tantalizing, sitting next to him like this, fiddling with the straw of his drink between his teeth, and surely it’s so Jungkook’s eyes will be drawn to his lips.
“Perhaps I’ve been known to be as well.”
He keeps twirling the small straw between his lips, as if Jungkook needs the distraction.
“I’m starting to catch on to that.”
He has a feeling he’s met his match, and he isn’t quite sure how to fall into this dynamic. He can’t figure out who pulls and who pushes, because it seems they’re both fighting for dominance, and he wonders why he’d ever expect anything different.
It was clear from the second they started this thing that this man is into teasing and challenging, because why else would he instigate the game they’ve been playing over text over the last month?
And fuck, it makes him buzz with excitement. Makes him want to take this man to the bathroom and shut him up immediately. But he also can’t help but drag this out, eager to keep playing the game Taehyung doesn’t know about.
Before he can get too caught up in the idea of having his way with the model, he speaks.
“So if you wouldn’t tell me no,” he challenges his point from earlier, curious to see how far Taehyung will push it. “What would you want me to do to you?”
It’s a gamble, but Taehyung responds beautifully to the challenge, leaning back in the booth and eyeing Jungkook with interest. Then, he ups the stakes again, keeping Jungkook on his toes.
“Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you exactly what I want you to do to me.”
And Jungkook won’t say no to that.
Namjoon, who has joined them at some point during their conversation, shoots him a side glance that tells Jungkook exactly what he needs to know without words.
Yeah, he’s past making good decisions, and his eyes tell him to tread carefully. Seokjin, however, mouths something awfully similar to ‘go get ‘em tiger’ under his breath, and that, Jungkook can definitely get behind.
He follows Taehyung to the bar, sliding up next to him and making a point to give him an appreciative once over.
It’s not lost on Taehyung who raises an eyebrow, and thankfully, the bartender approaches before Jungkook can say anything he regrets.
“What do you want?” Jungkook asks, looking at Taehyung. He seems to weigh his options, but Jungkook has a feeling he’s just playing coy, buying himself some more time and suspending the tension between them.
“I’ll have an old fashion,” Taehyung flashes the bartender a smile. “But with tequila, please.”
“Tequila?” Jungkook is taken aback by the order. “That’s unconventional.”
“Don’t knock it ’til you try it, Jungkook-ah.”
“I won’t. I’ll have a vodka soda,” he slips the bartender a few bills. He should charge it to Seokjin’s tab, because he could totally get away with it, but Taehyung did ask him to buy him a drink, and the promise of what’s to follow is top of his mind.
A few other patrons slide up to the bar, forcing them closer together, and up close to Taehyung like this, with their shoulders brushing together, he is able to catch a whiff of him. He smells exquisite, a mix of rich, warm notes of sandalwood and vanilla, but there’s also something light, an intoxicating scent of fresh orange, and it draws him in instantly.
Unable to help himself, he turns to face the man, then, his hands drag over the outside of his jacket.
“I like this,” he says as nonchalantly as he can muster, his eyes lingering over it briefly before it flashes to the shirt underneath. “It’s nice.”
Taehyung’s lip turns upward in a smirk.
“I call it my ‘come fuck me’ jacket.” Taehyung’s smile turns into a grin. “It works every time.”
“I bet it does.” He knows it does. “It looks good on you.”
Jungkook wishes he was lying, but he isn’t. It looks phenomenal on him.
“Where’d you get it? It may not hold the same guarantee for me, but it’s worth a shot.”
It’s stupid how fast his heart beats in his chest. It’s innocent enough to pass as a joking question, but some sick part of Jungkook can’t wait to hear what the man says. Taehyung doesn’t seem to suspect anything.
“It’s actually a funny story,” Taehyung chuckles, thanking the bartender when he’s handed his drink. “My friend actually owns this place, and they found it in the lost and found bin one night. No one claimed it, so I snagged it.”
It’s a funny story, alright.
It takes all he has to not give a physical reaction at the revelation, because not only did Taehyung lie to him… Sapphire had it this whole fucking time, and it’s enough for him to grit his teeth, his whole body going rigid.
Over a stupid jacket.
“That’s a bummer,” Jungkook clears his throat, but he finds his bearings. “I guess I won’t get a ‘come fuck me jacket’ after all.”
“You don’t need one.”
Taehyung steps closer, and this time, it’s he who presses a hand against Jungkook’s chest.
Long fingers splay over him, and fuck, he wishes Taehyung’s touch wasn’t so electric. But it is, especially when he presses with more intent, feels the muscles under his hand.
“Not when you look like this.”
Taehyung’s gaze shifts into something more inviting, his head tilting up slightly to look at him through lidded eyes. The steady rhythm of his heart picks up in his chest at the invitation, and it reminds Jungkook what they’re doing at the bar in the first place.
“I got you a drink,” he whispers, low and breathy. “Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?”
“Yeah.” Taehyung’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips. “Remind me what my end of the bargain is again?”
“I get you a drink, and you tell me what you want me to do to you.”
He initiates it this time, taking a step forward and pressing himself into Taehyung’s hand on his chest. Though the model doesn’t stumble, he does take a step back, finding himself pressed against the bar.
They should move. The should get out of the way so other patrons can order, but right now, he finds he doesn’t really care. Not when Taehyung looks at him like he wants to be put in his place, and Jungkook has a feeling that he does.
His drink sits right behind Taehyung on the bar, and he doesn’t miss how the model’s breath hitches in his throat when he presses close, only to reach his hand behind the bar to take it.
“That’s right.”
Taehyung’s eyes flicker down to Jungkook’s neck once he composes himself, then down to his chest that’s exposed under his silk shirt.
“So what is it that you want me to do?”
Jungkook presses close, and Taehyung shifts on the spot, slots his legs open so Jungkook can step closer.
“I want you to take me home tonight.”
There’s no doubt about what’s happening between them, but Jungkook didn’t expect Taehyung to be so straight forward about it. But then again, there’s a lot of things he doesn’t know about this man. Except he knows what he looks like without a shirt on, and he’d really like to see that in real life.
“Yeah?”
Jungkook places his own hand on Taehyung’s chest, finally feeling for himself. He lets his hands trail over the model’s chest, then down to his sides, not missing how his eyes flutter shut at the brief touch. He’s not as composed as he lets on, and the thought of that makes Jungkook a little too delighted.
“And then what? What do you want me to do?”
He has a feeling that Taehyung likes to call the shots, and he isn’t opposed to that. He has no issues giving up control every once in a while, especially not to someone as captivating as Taehyung.
“What do you think I want you to do?”
And there he goes, turning it around again, but Jungkook won’t have that. Absolutely not.
“Nah,” he clicks his tongue. “I want to hear what you want me to do to you. Don’t flip this back on me.”
Taehyung’s eyes go wide with surprise, then he breaks out in a shy smile at his little game being exposed. He’s underestimating Jungkook, because he knows all too well what this game is like.
“Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“It doesn’t.”
If only Taehyung knew.
“Are you going shy on me?” Jungkook challenges. “I didn’t take you for the type.”
And just like Jungkook, Taehyung doesn’t back down from a challenge. He can quote him on that, verbatim, but he’s not ready to show his hand.
“I’m not.” Taehyung assures immediately, a new fire burning in his eyes. “I want you to take me home so you can fuck me.”
The breath squeezes at the top of his lungs when he hears Taehyung speak it out loud.
“And what if I want you to fuck me?” Jungkook challenges, a bit too curious not to ask.
It catches the model off guard to the point where he draws in a breath, his free hand settling on Jungkook’s hip, squeezing it in response.
“Yeah. I’d fuck you,” Taehyung admits, and Jungkook can’t even pretend to hide how the heat simmers in his body anymore, itching to burst out of him. “But not until you fuck me first.”
“You’re demanding,” Jungkook whispers, dipping his head down to get closer to his ear. Taehyung is even more intoxicating up close, and it takes all he has to not bury his head in his nape and drag his lips against the glistening skin that’s so inviting. “But I don’t mind. I’ll let you be demanding.”
The model tilts his head, baring more of his neck in the most beautiful invitation to take, but Jungkook holds back, forcing himself to pull away to look at the man’s face.
He wonders if he looks just as taken as Taehyung does in this moment, his lips parted and his eyes blown wide in anticipation.
Around them, the base thumps, the vibrations reverberating in the walls and the floor, but all that Jungkook can focus on right now is Taehyung.
How he knows that this is a bad idea, how they got here in the first place, but he never could have guessed that the man would be this alluring.
“Do you—“
“Jungkook-ah! Taehyung-ah!”
Seokjin calls for them, and the spell is broken in an instant. Suddenly aware of where they are, they step apart, putting distance between each other.
“We’re not done talking about this,” Taehyung whispers, and Jungkook only nods in confirmation, not sure what he wants to say, anyway.
“What took you guys so long?” Namjoon narrows his eyes at them, though he knows exactly what did. “The birthday boy wants to have cake.”
Neither of them argue, sliding right back into the booth again. The tension still buzzes between them, only intensified by the heat of the room and the alcohol entering their systems at an alarming rate, which makes them both bolder than they have any right to be.
Jungkook can feel Taehyung’s stare before he turns to look, and any time he turns to look at the model, he finds that he’s already watching him. He’s not much better himself, captivated by the sharp features of his face and the way the man moves when he shifts in his seat.
But then they grow bolder, a lingering touch becoming a solid hand on Jungkook’s thigh, and a promise of more when it slides up too high to be considered friendly.
There’s no way the model misses how Jungkook freezes under his touch, and thankfully, someone has an idea to volunteer Jungkook and Namjoon to go get the fourth round of drinks before they get a little too handsy with each other under the table.
“Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Namjoon asks the second they’re out of earshot.
He’s been on the receiving end of this particular Namjoon voice enough times to know he’s in for a scolding.
“It’s a ‘no questions asked,’ hyung. That literally means no questions.”
Thankfully, his friend holds true to the promise they made in college when Namjoon had to be bailed out of jail (‘it was for the betterment of the environment,’ he had said). Nonetheless, their little game had been born following that incident, and tonight, Jungkook has invoked his own right to use it.
Still, it’s evident how Namjoon grits his teeth trying to hold back, his jaw tensing with how badly he wants to ask more questions.
“Just don’t do anything stupid, Jungkook-ah.”
“I think we’re past that,” he snorts. “Do you even know me?”
“Unfortunately.”
It earns him a hard shove to his shoulder, but unfortunately, his friend is solid, barely flinching at the contact.
“You gonna make a move on birthday boy?” He figures that switching the topic is safe, and for the first time in the very long time he’s known Namjoon, the man blushes at the mention of a man.
“Oh my God, you are!” Jungkook is delighted to hear this. “Make good choices, hyung.”
“I should say the same to you.”
“You know I won’t.”
“I know I can’t ask questions, but can I at least leave you with a piece of advice?” Namjoon sounds genuinely concerned, so Jungkook gives in.
There is a reason Namjoon is his favorite, though he’d never admit it out loud.
“Hit me with it.”
“Just don’t go to jail tonight. I’m not bailing you out over a jacket.”
Jungkook can’t help the full body laugh, how he almost folds over on himself, because apparently, he’s not as subtle as he thought.
“I’m not going to steal the jacket back,” he grins.
“No?”
“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Namjoon mutters something he can’t catch under his breath, which is probably for the better, because if Jungkook is being completely honest with himself here, he hasn’t decided where this night gets to take him yet, and it’s entirely Taehyung’s fault.
By the time they make it back with the drinks, Seokjin is worse for the wear. The model looks like he’s one more drink away from absolute disaster, and when he suggests they dance, Namjoon actually pulls him into his lap to stop him. It sends the birthday boy into a spluttering mess, and Jungkook has a feeling that Namjoon will have to resign himself to a different fate than he was hoping for tonight.
Taehyung eyes the men across the table, then he leans in to whisper on Jungkook’s ear.
“Come on, dance with me before this train turns into a complete wreck.”
There’s a hand on his thigh again, fingertips playing with the seam of his pants. He vibrates under the touch, and not to be outdone, he places his own hand on top of Taehyung’s, dragging it higher. The model’s eyes widen just slightly, but he stays composed, never once looking away.
“Lead the way, hyung.”
It has been a long time since Jungkook has been on the dance floor of Sapphire. Normally he doesn’t bother with the effort, going for the more straight forward approach, and at times, he doesn’t even make it out of the bathroom of the establishment with his conquest.
But Taehyung is something else.
Captivating him in ways he hasn’t allowed himself to be swayed in a very long time, ever since someone made him become this version of himself, and that should be terrifying.
Yet here he is, pulling the enthralling and breathtaking man into his arms, unable to ignore how much his body fucking wants.
“Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get you alone?” Taehyung asks, his hands sliding over his arms, finally touching him with the want they’ve both been trying to fight.
“I almost had half a mind to take you to the bathroom.”
He pulls Taehyung in by a grab of his tiny waist, slotting one leg between his, close enough for their hips to brush, and god, it’s electric. Makes him want to do exactly what he just said, but that’s not what they’re doing tonight.
There’s a new hunger in Taehyung’s eyes. They both know what this is, but now they’re pressed together, finally touching how they want, and that sends heat prickling all over Jungkook’s body. It almost makes it hard for him to contain himself, and he knows his hands dig into Taehyung’s hips a little too hard when he moves them to the beat of the music, neither of them really interested in dancing.
There are enough bodies on the dance floor for them to blend in with the masses, and no one cares enough to pay them any attention, either way.
“You can, you know,” Taehyung leans in, mere inches from Jungkook’s face. He can smell the tequila on his breath, his lips tingling with the brush of Taehyung’s breath over them. It would be so easy to close the distance. “I wouldn’t mind.”
Jungkook wouldn’t either. But no, that’s not what this is about. That’s not how he wants to fuck this gorgeous man in front of him.
“I know you wouldn’t.”
In another herculean display of willpower, he moves his face away, nuzzles into Taehyung’s neck and finally presses his lips against the skin there instead. Taehyung is warm, hot under his lips, and Jungkook swears he’s drunk on this man. He drags his lips against his throat, then he works his way up his jaw, reveling in the way Taehyung goes slack in his arms, just inviting him in.
“But that’s not how this is going to go.”
He places a kiss right below Taehyung’s ear, then he takes his earlobe between his teeth, nibbling on the soft skin before he runs his tongue over the small, silver hoops. The model lets out the most breathtaking shudder, and Jungkook knows he has him where he wants him.
“No?”
Taehyung barely manages a whisper, his eyes half-lidded, undoubtedly just as affected as Jungkook feels.
“No.”
Jungkook pulls away. He reaches to cup a hand under the model’s jaw, tracing his thumb over the bottom lip he so badly wants to take between his teeth.
He locks eyes with Taehyung.
“I’m going to fuck you in your bed, Taehyung-ah.” The man’s mouth drops open at the informality. “But it’s not going to be tonight. We’re going to be sober when we fuck.”
Before Taehyung can say anything, Jungkook presses his index finger against his lip to shush him, ignoring how good they feel under his finger. Then he leans closer, pressing his mouth against the corner of his lips, just outside of where the man so obviously wants to be kissed.
“I’m gonna go, but I want you to text me when you want me to fuck you, okay?”
A surprised breath hitches in his throat, Jungkook can feel it with how closely their chests are pressed together.
Taehyung reaches in his pocket for his phone, but Jungkook grabs his wrist, stopping him before can pull it out. Then he pulls once on his jacket.
“You already have my number.”
The last thing he sees before he turns around is Taehyung’s mouth falling open in surprise, and Jungkook tips his head back slightly, nodding once with a smile that he knows is way too smug.
Here’s the thing.
Jungkook never loses.