Chapter Text
Walking home from a party is always a little bit of a challenge.
Jeongguk stumbles like a blubbering mess in the dead of the night, miscalculating where the curb is at least twice only to then grab onto Jimin’s equally intoxicated frame for ill support. His depth perception is also a little off as he trips over his own shoes half a dozen times by the time they’ve barely reached the end of the street.
Behind them, Jeongguk guesses it's about a hundred feet - but, again, with the bad depth perception, well, - the frat house jumps with blaring EDM music. It’s probably something by Chris Brown, or something equally sensual, that has the party still going at a little after three am.
Next to him, Jimin giggles obscenely at Jeongguk as he once again trips over his wobbly feet and almost smacks his face into a pricey looking car. It’s high pitched, Jimin’s laughter, the way it goes every time he’s feeling particularly loose and goofy, and it sounds nice in Jeongguk’s ears.
Taehyung, the absolute ass, thinks his large stumbling frame is beyond hilarious enough to point his phone at Jeongguk, probably as a new addition to the pending 'Drunken Adventures w/ Tae’ Snapchat updates. Unfortunately for Jeongguk, almost the entire school follows Taehyung’s snapchat. Taehyung was even named ‘Social Media King of the Year’ last year, and tomorrow, Jeongguk’s going to have half the school know he got embarrassingly shitfaced tonight. Though, Jeongguk’ll probably think it's funny too, right after his very certain death of a hangover has left.
But despite the rowdiness from down the street, and the maniac-like giggling from his best friends, Jeongguk feels giddy and a single fuck can't be given that he’s humiliating himself.
On a night like this, the September air is warm on his thinly clad arms and legs, greeting goosebumps in a comforting breeze. It's cool enough to sooth his muscles and the burning in his throat from the tequila infused vodka shots he's had too many of. He’s probably going to regret those in the morning, but right now, Jeongguk is appreciating the warmth mixed with the cold of the night and the firework of sounds all around him that flare up nicely. He can still feel the fierce beat of music pulsing through his veins, dancing with the alcohol like old lovers, and muses to himself how cute those two figures would look like personified. Maybe he'll draw them when he gets home, if he not too glossed out. He probably won't if Jeongguk's honest with himself, and a small frown hangs on his lips.
But he quickly finds himself in giggles, arms stretched forward as he walks on past the parked pricey car.
At three am, most sorority and frat houses in the Campus Village are dark, but the moon lights it dimly enough for Jeongguk to see the greek letters and the beautiful architecture of old houses. They look so cool, and for a second, Jeongguk forgets why he didn’t join a fraternity.
Jimin, he hears, is gurgling barely coherent words for Jeongguk to be careful where he walks. Jeongguk can’t bring himself to flick his hand dismissively like all other times Jimin fusses. He's feeling too good, giddy, and as if he’s floating as the three of them head on home to the promise of a warm bed. And as the alcohol adds fuel to the flame, life thrums inside his chest, making him feel warm and fuzzy and nice.
He feels particularly nice when he hears laughter rising in volume behind him, affection spreading throughout his chest in a series of mandarin orange and soft pinks. The laughter, Jimin’s high pitched squeak and Taehyung’s booming roar, soar around him in an array of colours, until the sky is painted in beautiful shades of warm pinks and cool blues. Jimin, Jeongguk imagines, breathes with the warmth and care of soft magenta, a gentle touch of pinkish maroon when his laughter is reduced to a squeaky gasp at Taehyung’s animated retellings of the night. And Taehyung’s laugh, heavy in depth and colour, streams like the cold blue of a river, tinged with a hint of green and white, like a ripple in the surface of the water.
“Like the ocean!” Jeongguk suddenly screams into the night, loudly and randomly blurted with his arms raised to the skies, and behind him comes a new wave of furious giggles. He turns around to see his friends doubled over in laughter, Jimin’s eyes sparkly with tears, and it’s not even all that funny, but they’re drunk out of their minds. Virtually anything is funny when they’re like this, loose and carefree. But Jeongguk doesn’t mind, because his insides fill with a whirlwind of fiery orange, boisterous at the feeling of utter unburdened happiness.
It all feels nice, perfectly nice, standing in the middle of the street with his friends laughing like idiots at him. It feels really nice, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling wide at his idiot friends.
Suddenly, or maybe a decade later - again, Jeongguk has no idea - a loud cat meow startles them all, and Taehyung spins around faster than any drunk should be able to, holding his phone like it’ll be of any kind of defence.
“Who’s there?!” he yells, looking absolutely ridiculous trying to balance in his fighting stance, hands shakily filming everywhere and anywhere and legs wobbling like they’re about to give in.
“Dude, chill,” Jimin giggles cutely, coming up behind the blond to tap at his shoulder. Taehyung spins around again and almost trips but soon recovers by aiming the flash brightly in Jimin’s face. Jeongguk heaves a laugh as Jimin stumbles back like he’s been shot, face contorted uglily. Jeongguk's gonna have a blast reviewing that video on Tae's snap story tomorrow.
“Hands where I can see ‘em!” Taehyung yells like a cop from some blockbuster movie, but the small ‘tee-hee’ that slips shortly after is too funny for any of them to stay serious. It echoes in the quiet neighbourhood, their laughter, and a small giggle bubbles from Jeongguk’s chest too.
Just as Jeongguk takes note of the warm magenta filling his ears alongside squeaky laughter, the cat meows again, and laughter seizes comically fast. It’s silent for a moment as Taehyung signals for them to be quiet, searching, and Jeongguk has to stifle his laughter into his hand at the serious expression on the blond.
Jimin suddenly comes to, his lips falling into a faint ‘O’ as he begins to pat his jeans jacket a little bit too forcefully. It seems as though the alcohol has gotten the best of his motor skills, but he eventually fishes out what he’s looking for from his back pocket, holding it up as if he’s found some hidden treasure.
“Dude, who has a cat meowing as their text tone?” Taehyung whisper-yells to Jeongguk, miles away from being discreet, and Jeongguk laughs a little too loudly at that. They watch as Jimin squints at his screen for a few minutes, Jeongguk giggling at the crunched up 'mochi' look. He looks cute, like a little cutiepie. Jeongguk could totally eat that little cutiepie.
“It’s Hoseok!” Jimin finally yells, startling both Taehyung and Jeongguk with his voice. He looks at them with eyes slowly widening into surprised shock.
“What’s he sayn’?” Jeongguk slurs, genuinely curious as he finds Taehyung’s shoulder to rest his weight on. He feels a tad bit heavier all of a sudden. His vision begins to swirl, everything turning into a slightly greyer tinge, and he thinks it might be high time to puke.
“He probably wants some dick!” Taehyung yells with a punctuated hip thrust like he can’t really regulate his own voice. What's even more surprising, and funny, is when some equally drunk college kid yells from somewhere in the neighbourhood, “Vagina!” like some twisted college version of Marco Polo.
All three of them burst into uncontrollable laughter, air leaving Jeongguk’s lungs like he’s been punched in the chest, and Taehyung falls smack down on his ass onto the asphalt. It makes them laugh harder, Jimin throwing his head back and pointing widely at Taehyung.
“We should’ve filmed that,” Jeongguk muses, making his way over to help Taehyung up, and Jimin agrees with a solemn pout. Jeongguk could punch this little cutiepie.
“No, he actually wanted to go on a date,” Jimin says when his laughter has gone back to it’s drunkenly giggly state.
“Right now?” Jeongguk asks, shooting him a confused look. He’s hooking his hands under Taehyung’s armpits, trying his best to haul his great big blob of a body up. They should really be getting home.
Taehyung giggles at his question, mumbling to himself ‘Stupid Gukkie’ like he had just asked something stupid - it probably was but Drunk Jungkook is not so sure about anything, as previously mentioned. Jeongguk feels rather than sees how Jimin rolls his eyes too before sliding his phone back into his pants to help Jeongguk. Together they’re barely able to get the limp Taehyung back up on his feet. What's worse is that Taehyung, constantly giggling into Jeongguk’s flannel shirt, is hanging off of him like a koala, whining about wanting to be piggybacked on Jeongguk’s back.
“Tae, no, stop,” he shoves his best friend’s face off him because he himself can barely walk, much less with another human on top of him. Jimin helps Taehyung stop him from climbing up Jeongguk’s form like a tree, and even when it actually does very little, Jeongguk can feel how the fiery orange affection in his chest brightens into a subtle red-ish pink. He finds himself smiling goofily at Jimin, attempting to pat his cute little head over the concoction of blond hair.
“When’s th’date?” Taehyung mumbles incoherently once he’s claimed Jeongguk’s arm as his own, hanging onto it as a lifeline. Jimin stumbles next to them on the other side of Taehyung, hanging off Taehyung’s arm like a lifeline. Jeongguk hopes to God they don’t stumble and fall into some bush, only to wake up tomorrow with a mean black eye.
“T’morrow,” Jimin answers sleepily, and oh great, now Jeongguk’s the designated walker for their squad. He takes note of the shy smile playing on Jimin’s rosy lips, but for once, he doesn’t tease the older for his impending crush. He’s not entirely sure why. Maybe he’s kinda hoping for him and Hoseok to get together, because they were really darn cute last time all of them hung out, and Hoseok’s a nice guy. A really nice guy. But a twinge of dark green colours his warm chest, a tinge of sadness at being left alone, because if Hoseok and Jimin get together, then he’s the only one in their little trio with no one. And that’s hella depressing to think about, so Jeongguk shoves that thought out and focuses on keeping the three of them upright all the way home.
“Nice,” Taehyung misses the high five he’s trying to give Jimin and smack the shortest in the face instead, making Jeongguk chuckle loudly. “You gotta tell me later if he’s got bomb dick game, man.” At that, all three of them laugh wholeheartedly.
Little do any of them know that this so called bomb dick game will cause a whole lot of drama in their very near future.
Contrary to popular belief, The Hot Squad - Jeongguk swears it wasn’t any of them who started this nickname, it’s what the school's paper, AKA Namjoon, had called them when reporting about a particularly weird midnight escapade (they had been invited up onto the stage of a strip club) caught on Taehyung’s snap - The Hot Squad don’t live together. Conjoined at the hip - yes. Secretly in love - debatable. Instead, it’s Jimin and Jeongguk in one apartment, and Taehyung and his girlfriend Wheein in another. It was a decision that came to be right after Dorm F closed down for rat contamination at the end of Jeongguk’s first year, which happened to line up perfectly with Wheein's roommate moving out just before graduation.
And in all honesty, Jeongguk’s pretty glad Dorm F was abolished from it’s existence. He likes to tell himself it’s because the place was more outdated than eighties sitcom reruns on primetime TV. The walls had been littered with mysterious brown stains and cracks that made everyone worry whether or not the walls would cave in in the middle of the night. The windows were drafty which meant that even five blankets weren’t enough to keep the winter cold away. And the bathrooms - oh no. To this day, Jeongguk shudders at the thought. No one talks about Dorm F’s bathrooms. Ever. It’s a law.
So, things lined up perfectly and Jimin wasn’t too salty about Taehyung ditching him for sex twenty-four-seven. And Jeongguk had traded the dumpster-fuck of a dorm for an upscale apartment on the second floor of a newly built building, completely spotless with large windows, perfect for natural lighting to draw in, and separate bedrooms on either side of the apartment, perfect for jacking off without having to worry too much about keeping his lewd sounds under his breath.
Taehyung had been adamant about setting up rules though, because ‘bros before hoes’ and ‘homies before blow-me’s’, and so started the Tuesday Tea Times - there are a lot of titles to keep up with, Jeongguk knows all too well the pain, but that’s just how Tae is.
And that’s where they’re situated right now, tucked in their regular spot by the windows at their usual café, Rosé Petals. Jeongguk sits in his red velvet chair, slouched against the sinking material like a victorian king. Across from him, Jimin is engulfed in his own one seater, the navy blue one thats bouncy and big and makes Jimin look beyond tiny. The older looks cute, Jeongguk notes, in the way he sits comfortably with his legs tucked under him, his coffee perched on the arm of the chair. He looks even cuter today of all days in his navy chair, because today he's chosen to wear the striped long sleeve Jeongguk got him for Christmas last year, the one that's far too big and baggy enough to give him sweater paws for days.
Jeongguk moves his own coffee mug from his slouched chest when it starts getting a tad bit too hot sitting there.
“I feel so bad though. She is too kind to me,” Taehyung whines, his signature pout on his lips as he recounts the aftermath of Sunday’s frat party. “She held my hair and rubbed circles on my back as I threw up half my existence into the toilet, and she didn't even complain.”
“Wheein is an angel,” Jimin agrees with a huff. “How the fuck did she end up with you?”
Jeongguk barks out a laugh at the sassy comment, his coffee mug shaking dangerously where it sits perched on the flat of his chest.
Taehyung shoots them both dismissive wrist flicks from in between them. He's pulled out his favourite stool from another table and has settled in right in front of the glass windows, where anyone who passes by can see him perfectly. Jeongguk thinks it might be because of his Social Media King status, but he's pretty sure this is Tae's way of inviting people - his fans, Taehyung always reminds him - to take pictures or catch a glimpse of him. Jeongguk just thinks he's full of it.
"I'm pretty sure it's because of my charming good looks and my crazy scientist persona that has Wheein staying. Chicks dig that kinda stuff," Taehyung says to try and redeem himself, but doesn't really work as Jeongguk laughs.
"Wheein must be a lot weirder than I thought if she's into that kind of stuff," he mumbles, earning a bubbling laughter from Jimin. Jeongguk smiles for several reasons behind the rim of his cup, watching as Taehyung shoots daggers into both of them.
Then Taehyung squares his shoulders and says, "She may be a weirdo, but she's my weirdo," with an impossibly sappy smile, and both Jeongguk and Jimin groan loud enough for a few others in the café to stare. Jimin pretends to throw up over the side of his one seater, and Jeongguk rubs the dirty sap off his arms up and down. Taehyung simply grins at the two of them smugly.
"Must be nice to have someone," Jimin says when they eventually come back to it, fingers tapping absentmindedly at his mug, a telltale sign that Jimin's thinking about something deeper than he's showing.
"It's pretty nice," Taehyung says with a sip of his tea, "especially when she offers to pop the pimple on your back thats been giving you hell the past week," and the way he says it, so casually, makes Jeongguk pull his best 'what the fuck' face, genuinely disgusted. Jimin snorts unattractively into his cup. "But you've got Hoseok, though," Taehyung continues, waving his mug around. "Speaking of who, how did your date go?"
At that, Jimin's face turns into a lovely shade of pink, blush dusting on his cheeks until all of his exposed tanned skin has turned flushed. It's endearing, making Jeongguk smile behind the cover of his mug as he drinks.
Short fingers fiddle under the protective layer of Jimin's long sleeved shirt, nervous energy bouncing off him in waves, but the different glint in his eye shows excitement, eagerness at even the mention of the older man. It sits uncomfortably within Jeongguk's chest, for more reasons than he can justify.
"I'm guessing it went well," Jimin says with a soft smile, "He's picking me up in," the silver haired man turns his impressively flexible torso to look at the clock behind him on the wall, "ten minutes."
“What?!” Taehyung exasperates, and Jeongguk winces at the volume.
Jimin’s blush turns fiercer, embarrassment fuelling to the already cute image of Jimin in his long sleeved shirt, curled up in his chair.
Jeongguk’s coffee mug feels a little bit heavy on his chest.
“Yeah. We just kinda cuddled yesterday and did nothing ‘cause of my hangover, so I-D-K, we’re going for dinner.” Jimin shrugs cutely, shoulders touching his ears to hide his flushed skin, and fingers disappearing into the fabric of his sleeves completely. Jeongguk can’t help but smile bitterly at the flustered man’s small smile.
“So this is one hundred percent serious? Like me and Wheein serious? - ‘Cause that’s the most serious thing I know,” he adds last minute turning to Jeongguk as if it’ll justify his assessment, and yeah, okay, Jeongguk’ll give it to him, it does. Taehyung’s leaning into Jimin’s personal space, eyes squinting and overprotective but filled with burning curiosity. Jeongguk isn’t as curious.
“Well, I like him. A lot,” Jimin says with indefinite warmth, shrugging like thats the only thing he knows how to do.
Jeongguk’s coffee mug stings where it rests, a sharp pain soaring through his skin in a series of flashes. Jeongguk ignores it.
Before Taehyung can interject with another interrogatory question, the bell on the front door rings loudly, and heavy steps make their way through the relatively empty café over to their table. Jeongguk feels the shift in the space, people staring at whoever just stepped inside. Across from him, Jeongguk sees how Jimin’s entire body melts at something behind Jeongguk, his eyes shifting from the usual golden glint of mischief to something a bit more rose coloured and soft. His entire body turns lax, the raised shoulders slowly fall as his entire body opens up, his soft smile turning wide and carefree.
He knows his gaze is fixated on Jimin, blatantly staring at him really, but he looks adorably soft and perfect like that, right then and there in the beautiful ambiance of the café, in his oversized shirt, and in that navy one seater that engulfs him. Jeongguk can feel Taehyung’s stare drilling holes into his cheek, so he quickly darts his eyes away.
It’s a bad decision because his eyes land on the source of the shift in the air, the object of Jimin’s sudden fascination, and Jeongguk perfectly understands the rose coloured glint.
Hoseok Jung has swept up to their table, grabbing a stool from another table to sit next to Taehyung and Jeongguk. His smile, sweet and blinding like an infinite loop of sunshine, lights up the room and makes everything feel a tad bit lighter. There’s a warmth that surrounds this man, a different one from the fiery orange and pink of Jeongguk. Rather, something lighter, brighter, like the summer hues of a careful sun, yellow, butter, and impossibly comforting in the wake of a cold morning. Jeongguk understands to the fullest extent the lax feeling he saw in Jimin, because Hoseok has always had that carefree, open-up-to-me-it’s-okay vibe.
Yet, Hoseok’s bright warmth clashes unforgettably with his appearance. He’s dressed from head to toe in black, in a loose tee that shows too much sun kissed collarbone, in tight skinny jeans that hug too much too snugly, and in shades that hide the ever present affection.
But most of that affection is reserved for Jimin.
“Hey, Jiminie,” Hoseok says, his voice light and the epitome of soft happiness, and Jeongguk can see in his peripheral how Jimin practically melts in his seat.
“Hey,” the silver haired man replies, a new wave of dusty pink appearing on his cheeks.
The ever present tension is thick, even to a dense person like Jeongguk, and it feels slightly suffocating in this small space. The two aren’t quite eye-fucking, more like eye-cuddling with impossible amounts of restrained affection, and Jeongguk can practically feel how much they want to touch each other, to hug and maybe kiss each other ‘hello’.
Jeongguk’s thankful they don’t.
He’s pretty sure Hoseok greets both him and Taehyung too, but it goes unnoticed by Jeongguk, because suddenly Hoseok says, “Are you ready for our date?” with an elevated look.
Apprehension rises within Jeongguk, tingling at the tips of his fingers in nervous sparks, and he barely notices how his knuckles turn white at the smiles being sent between the two.
“I, uh, gotta, uhm,” Jeongguk doesn’t finish his sentence, partly because he’s unsure how to continue, and partly because he’s suddenly risen to his feet, clumsily gathering his stuff into his hands.
“He has class,” Taehyung says quickly, shooting a subtle, apologetic smile to Jeongguk.
Jeongguk doesn’t dare spare another glance at the table as he makes his way through the café towards the front door, too uncomfortable in his own skin to watch another moment between his best friend and his almost-boyfriend. It isn’t until he’s on the other side of the campus he can he breathe properly, but the bitter heat in his chest remains put for the rest of the day.
Sometimes Jeongguk regrets nothing more than having moved in with Jimin.
Yeah, sure, Dorm F was a shithole, and had no properly working bathrooms, and mould, and a weird stench that followed him around, but sometimes he feels like he’d pick all of those things over living with Jimin.
Because Jimin, despite the relatively kind soul that he is, is a pain in the ass. Not the good kind.
Jimin is stubborn, more than Jeongguk is, and has no sense of respect when it comes to being moderately quiet. There are moments when it's bearable and fine, like when Jimin eats like a starved homeless man and groans and slurps and chews with his mouth open - Jeongguk will deny it if ever mentioned, but sometimes when Jimin is out and he has to eat dinner by himself, he feels like it’s too quiet, - or when he snores like the devil has possessed him and Jeongguk has to invest in sound cancelling earphones despite the fact that they occupy opposite sides of the apartment.
But sometimes, it’s far too much.
Like when Jeongguk and Jimin are studying and the older has to have full blasting music for him to concentrate whilst Jeongguk prefers absolute silence, or when Jeongguk’s painting his next assignment and Jimin’s in the living room yelping with every shot he’s firing in CoD, or when Jimin is working out and makes sounds like he’s getting fucked and Jeongguk can’t concentrate at all for the rest of the day.
Jimin is uncharacteristically loud for his soft nature. And it’s getting in the way of Jeongguk’s somewhat barely-holding-on mental state.
The only way Jeongguk can barely scrape by in his classes is to get out of the apartment, because Jimin refuses to give up. I signed the lease first, Jimin had whined like the child he is, and Jeongguk had simply huffed and packed his stuff for the library.
And after that, their fights decreased significantly. There were no more yelling session at two am the night before an important exam, and there were no more hostile ‘gifts’ sent to one another as revenge. Jeongguk remembers the worst fight they had, during the week leading up to finals, where they didn’t talk for a full two weeks. It was mostly because Jeongguk had spent seventeen hours a day in the library or in the art room, refusing to go home for anything other than sleep, and the idea that Jimin might have not been as affected as he was from their lack of interaction kept him far away from their shared space. Thinking about those feelings were a little too much on top of all the school stress.
But now they’re pretty good. Their fights are about the usual domestic things, like laundry and dirty dishes and who used up the last of the milk, and never last longer than ten minutes. So all is well.
Except not really, but that’s more of a Jeongguk-Issue than a Jimin-and-Jeongguk-Issue, so no need to bring that up.
Jeongguk’s gotten into the routine of going to the library for an hour after class every day, whether it be just for a little bit of alone time to cool down or for actual homework, it doesn’t matter. It’s nice and quiet, and with Jimin’s hectic tendencies during his spare time, Jeongguk needs the distance. Especially because of that Jeongguk-Issue mentioned before.
But right now Jeongguk’s heading home directly after his two pm class, steps light and mouth in a lazy smile. His teacher had just given him an B+ on his last assignment, an oil painting in various shades of deep blue and magenta swirling around abstract fireworks based on the drunken visions he’d seen after that frat party last month, the colours of his best friends laughter. His professor had really liked his detailed outline in his explanation report, and had been thoroughly surprised to know Jeongguk actually had feelings. Rude, Jeongguk had joked back but his smile had been too wide to be offended.
So, damn right, Jeongguk deserves a four hour Overwatch lan-party, and, damn right he’s gonna start at three pm with his pyjamas on and a nice 2L bottle of coke right next to him.
He fishes out his phone as he walks up the stairs to the second floor, opening his text conversation with Yoongi to ask if he wants to team up on Overwatch. His headphones are blasting the jazzy tune of Sax by Fleur East, and his head bumps to the rhythm of it. His entire body feels giddy, a little bit like it’s on a high.
It’s a little bit hard opening the door whilst holding his portfolio under his arm, but he eventually gets it open and carefully closes it behind him. He knows Jimin likes to take a nap during his free periods, and unlike the silver haired man-boy, Jeongguk isn’t a big enough ass to make too much noise. His shoes are toed off equally as quiet as he bobs his head to the breakdown of the hook, shimmying his shoulder for the hell of it because ain’t nobody seeing him doing it so why not?
In the box labeled ‘Jeongguk’s shit’, he sets down his book bag and portfolio, and leaves his keys and wallet in the bowl on their little table. He jams out to the song on his way down the hallway, pausing every so often because he loves this song, and literally nothing can bring him down.
Eventually, the song ends and he takes out his earbuds, but he wishes he hadn’t. The rhythmic bounce of the song is suddenly replaced with a completely different kind of beat, something far more wet and lewd and physical. Jeongguk’s ears perk up at the layered breathing of two people, one deep and growly and preceptorial, and the other filled with desperate gasps and high pitched whines. It sounds an awful lot like-
Jeongguk’s eyes widen into galaxies, unprepared and shook to the core of his existence. He tries to will his feet to move back, to run for his life and take him to safety, but they keep moving forward until he stands at the edge of the living room, and suddenly he wishes for death to take him.
There’s no denying what is happening, not when Jimin is lying down, bent in half, on the couch completely naked, mouth wide open in laboured pants and eyes screwed shut in bliss. He has one arm gripping the backrest and the other wrapped around the leg of the coffee table for support as Hoseok fucks him into the couch. Their couch. Jeongguk and Jimin’s couch.
A shivering wave of electricity runs up and down Jeongguk’s spine as he stares like the fucking idiot he is. His head is filled with the heavily charged air, the sight of honey skin against sun kissed skin, sweaty and straining and fucking beautiful in their provocative rhythm. Jeongguk finds himself fixated on Hoseok’s languid frame, the steady body rolls as he grinds his cock deep inside Jimin. Hoseok, sweaty back full of freckles and lean muscles, has immense control, something only a dancer can have, precision in his thrusts that look sinful and godlike at the same time, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
And judging from the loud whines escaping Jimin’s raw lips, Hoseok does.
Hoseok pushes his body forward, forcing Jimin’s legs that rest on his shoulders closer to the younger’s body, and it’s frighteningly impressive how flexible Jimin is, how bendable and fuckable Jimin is, and the heavy growl Hoseok releases is fiery, a deeper version of warmth than what Jeongguk’s used to seeing. Jimin gasps loudly with his head tilted back as if Hoseok’s found that spot, and a shaky hand rakes through his silver hair at the feeling.
From where Jeongguk stands, it’s impossible not to notice every inch of skin, every bruise thats been carefully sucked into existence, every strained vein and muscle threatening to pop at any minute. Its absolutely impossible to not watch.
They look like porn stars, full fledged fucking porn stars in the way they’re fucking. Hoseok’s hips are quick and precise, drawn out when he pulls out, and sharp when he fucks right back into Jimin. It’s absolutely mesmerising, and every time Jeongguk catches a glimpse of Hoseok’s cock sliding in and out of Jimin’s puckered hole, slick and veiny and angry, his own breathing becomes more laboured, more breathy.
The thing is, as creepy as it is to just stare at your best friend and his boyfriend fuck like it’s the last day on earth, Jeongguk has to admire how amazing they look together. Dancers, they both are, and Jeongguk sees how that works to both of their benefits. Jimin’s pliant and bendable into compromising positions, muscular and honeyed skin, looks fantastically toned and sexy with his back arching off the couch into Hoseok’s chest, panting like he’s about to cum an entire ocean worth of semen, and Hoseok, lean and strong enough to bend and fuck in body rolls and weighted thrusts, and rough but soft where he needs to be on Jimin’s body.
They’re literally like porn stars, except Jeongguk’s not watching a screen.
Then, Hoseok’s thrusts turn, somehow, more calculated, and Jeongguk watches as a he snakes a hand between them to tug at Jimin’s leaking cock, and the louder, higher pitched voice he’s met with is breathier, heavier, from the feeling.
“Hoseok!” Jimin yelps when Hoseok swipes a thumb over the head of his cock, and suddenly Jeongguk gets to see how every muscle in Jimin’s body strains and bulges, overdrive of endorphins and adrenalin pumping into every vein of Jimin’s hot body as he cums in white ropes all over his chest. And then Hoseok’s cumming too, equally as loud, something beautiful and breathy and predatorily seductive in Jeongguk’s ears. Sweat drops fall from his forehead as he spills his seed into Jimin’s pliant body, pumping his dick in and out a few more times to look at his cum leaking from his boyfriend’s hole. That last act alone is quite possibly the hottest thing Jeongguk’s ever seen in his life, porn or not.
All of it is hot. Too hot. Even the panting from the two of them as they’re slowly coming down from their orgasmic highs. And this should be the perfect moment for Jeongguk leave, get the fuck out of here, or make his presence known, maybe pretend that he’s just entered the apartment and maybe apologise profusely for interrupting. And Jeongguk’s just about to bolt out the front door again when he sees the lazy smile on Jimin’s lips, fucked out and happy and perfectly content as Hoseok meets him with a soft kiss. Loving, romantic.
Something painful tugs at Jeongguk’s heart when he looks at the way Hoseok’s smile, equally fucked out and sated but bright against Jimin’s lips in their lazy, openmouthed kiss, and Jimin’s reciprocating response, the hand that slowly releases its grip around the coffee table’s leg to caress Hoseok’s cheek.
It hurts, more than anything Jeongguk’s ever felt before, to see the two of them perfectly immersed in each other, different from anything Jeongguk’s ever suffered through before.
Only then does Jeongguk run out of the apartment, forgetting his keys and wallet in their bowl, barely able to grab his shoes on the way out. He subconsciously slams the door behind him as he runs, runs, runs, to the other side of the campus, far away from any sweaty and loving looks.
He finds himself at Rosé Petal, heaving for more reasons than one. Every ounce of his body feels distressed, tense but shaking. Taehyung finds him blocking the door to the café, concern laced in his eyes and in his voice as he talks Jeongguk to settle in his favourite chair. Minutes, days, years later and Taehyung is handing him a cup of perfectly made coffee, settling down into the chair in front of him, in Jimin’s usual chair.
And Jeongguk tells him the best he can, leaving out details like how his heart ached at the sight and how his mouth felt dry with the impending lump. He tells the blond details that aren’t sugarcoated, but rather described with a bit of disgust, because he can’t let anyone know what he actually felt watching his best friend and his boyfriend fuck. He tells Taehyung with horror laced in his breath, traumatised - because he genuinely is - and confused if it was even real.
“I hope to god there aren’t cum stains on the couch,” Jeongguk whispers into his cup, staring at the clock on the far wall.
Taehyung slouches into the same dramatic position as Jeongguk’s in, his apron smoothing out and his hands falling limp in his lap as he gapes at Jeongguk. “Bro,” he breathes, floored.
“Bro,” Jeongguk breathes back, equally floored. He’s struck by the realisation that none of them in their friend group, the one that stretched beyond The Hot Squad, has seen each other like that. It’s unheard of, immensely gross and weird, to walk in on your best friends fucking. Not even Taehyung’s been caught like that, Taehyung who is notorious for leaving cum stains on pots and lacy panties in between pillows on someone else’s bed. They’ve maybe heard the tell tale groans from a too long shower a handful of times but who hasn’t. But this, this is different. This is life changing, especially to the extent Jeongguk saw it. Because he saw it.
“That sounds extremely hot, man,” Taehyung eventually says, staring into his own mug in a similarly dazed look as Jeongguk.
It takes a moment for the words to register, but when it does, Jeongguk’s face contorts into confusion. “Dude, you’re straight."
Taehyung shrugs, “Yeah, but it still sounds like something out of a porno,” he argues.
“It was,” Jeongguk agrees quietly, and then they fall into a dazed silence again, the only thing in between them the sound of the café rustling in the middle of their afternoon rush.
“I might have to call Wheein for a quickie, now,” Taehyung suddenly says, more like something for himself, but Jeongguk hears it perfectly.
“Fuck you, man, I don’t need that image in my head too,” Jeongguk fuses, sending a look of utter disgust in the older’s direction.
“You’re just jealous you couldn’t join in,” Taehyung shoots back with a sadistic smile, that mischievous twinkle that Jeongguk’s hates so much present in his eyes. Jeongguk can’t bring himself to laugh or cringe or send so much as a glare in Taehyung’s direction, and Taehyung’s twinkle dies down into sombre empathy.
Jeongguk knows Taehyung knows, despite Jeongguk not having said a single word to a single soul about it. But Taehyung’s always been like that, been able to read in between the lines and see the looks in between moments. And Jeongguk’s thankful Taehyung knows, especially right now, when he feels like the most torn apart.
“Do you think they knew I was there?” Jeongguk asks in a small voice, clutching onto the second mug of coffee Seokjin had brought over after seeing his distressed frame. God sent, that man is, and thank god for his fatherly tendencies.
“If they did, then that’s kinky shit, man,” Taehyung answers, and Jeongguk snorts a half-assed laugh. “Have you ever had a threesome?” the blond suddenly asks, and maybe it’s a weird way of kinda distracting Jeongguk, he isn’t too sure.
“Are you proposing that I should’ve asked to join? ‘Cause that’s fucked up, man,” Jeongguk says defensively, tsk-ing at the ridiculousness of Tae’s words. But Taehyung’s eyes are challenging him for an answer, and Jeongguk sighs, defeated. “Fine. No, I haven’t."
“Virgin,” Taehyung mumbles with a badly concealed laugh.
Jeongguk straightens up for the first time since he’s sat down, abandoning his mug on the table with a loud clank. “I bet you haven’t either!” Jeongguk whisper-yells. The blond lips slowly widen into a smug smile, eyes piercing with the same mischief, and Jeongguk realises this is Taehyung way of picking him up, and a small part of Jeongguk’s chest turns into its normal fiery orange again. “No,” Jeongguk says in disbelief, seeing the message hidden in those brown eyes.
Taehyung squares his shoulders and settles back into his seat with a wave of nonchalance, crossing his legs like a king on his throne.
“Wheein would never agree to something like that,” Jeongguk argues, thinking back to the bubbly innocence he’s always met with when they meet up. Wheein is short, cute, dainty and a little bit crazy, but she’s not Taehyung-crazy.
Taehyung flicks his hair out of his face, his smug smile far too proud. “It was her idea."
At that Jeongguk gasps, far too dramatically and k-drama like for a man of his calibre. His eyes sharpen to look for the tell-tale signs of lying, but Taehyung isn’t showing any darting eyes or sweat drops on his upper lip. Jeongguk communicates with his eyes, using the same challenging look Taehyung had used on him, for the blond to elaborate.
Taehyung, dramatic by nature, sighs as if its a chore to brag, before he says, “After the musical Wheein and I did for Christmas, there was this groupie that was especially keen on following us around. And Wheein invited her to my birthday party, and you, my friend, have not lived until you’ve seen your girlfriend eat out another girl whilst you fuck her from behind."
Jeongguk gags in disgust at the unnecessary oversharing, and Taehyung barking laughter echoes in the café above all else. He sees the pride in his best friends face for leaving him redfaced and cringing into himself, and Jeongguk makes a mental note to sacrifice Taehyung first if aliens come to invade.
“That was absolute unnecessary, bro,” Jeongguk shudders, “I hate you."
“Virgin,” Taehyung mutters again with his signature boxy smile as Jeongguk sends him another glare. He sees how Taehyung visibly relaxes when Jeongguk huffs a small laugh to himself, and the fiery orange in his chest begins to come back little by little at the Taehyung’s efforts.
But their meeting is cut short when Seokjin calls for Taehyung to go back to work, his break running way longer than it should’ve, and the blond turns an apologetic smile in Jeongguk’s direction. He stands up, patting the peach apron free from crinkles and fixes his name tag with a finger. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on them, man,” Taehyung says, all jokes set aside for sincerity. The sombre empathy is back in his eyes, and Jeongguk is touched by the small, sincere smile on his lips. “I would be appalled by it too, but I get what it must feel like,” and that’s probably the closest they’ve gotten to talking about the Jeongguk-Issue.
“Thanks man,” Jeongguk replies softly, then Taehyung is gone, taking the empty mugs with him, and Jeongguk’s alone with nothing but the flashing images of honey skin against sun-kissed skin. Jeongguk sighs, sinking into his favourite chair.