Work Text:
“You coming?”
Yoongi glances up from staring into his whiskey. A few of his colleagues are standing, downing the last of their glasses. Yoongi knows where they’re heading; upstairs to a different bar, one where money can buy you a lot more than a drink. Yoongi idly wonders if they’ve told their wives where they are tonight. He doubts it.
“No, I’m heading back.”
“To the office or home?”
“Aren’t they the same thing for him?” one of the more junior associates snorts, a small act of alcohol-fuelled bravado before he visibly wilts under Yoongi’s narrowed gaze.
“Sure we can’t tempt you?” another one colleague asks, one of the guys more on Yoongi’s level.
“Really not,” Yoongi confirms, taking another long, slow sip of drink. “Go. Enjoy.”
Half-hearted farewells are exchanged, as friendly as they ever manage. Yoongi wouldn’t call his colleagues friends as such, but he supposes they’re as close to it as he gets. His work doesn’t leave much time for forming any other meaningful relationships.
Everyone leaves but Yoongi’s very much aware of a figure staying sat on one of the seats to his left. He doesn’t need to turn to guess who it is.
“So, you’re going home?” Taehyung checks.
“Yeah,” Yoongi shrugs, although the idea of sitting alone in his apartment doesn’t seem all that tempting right now. He wonders if that far-too-loud chaebol who lives above him is throwing another one of his parties. Apparently money can buy Yoongi city views and a lot of square meters, but not peace and quiet. Yoongi assumes whoever lives above him must have even more money – or enough connections - to so continually break the noise restrictions.
“Unless you have a better plan?”
Yoongi doesn’t mind Taehyung. Sure, Yoongi disliked him at first, loud and enthusiastic and trying too hard to prove himself. But he was from a hard-up family in Daegu, same as Yoongi, and so Yoongi felt some kind of obligation towards him. He knew how it felt to cover up your roots, to learn a new city, to work your way up from poor to rich. Under Yoongi’s careful guidance he’s risen to the higher ranks of the company with ease. Yoongi may not have friends at his work, but Taehyung’s the nearest anyone’s got.
“We could go downstairs?”
Taehyung suggests it with feigned nonchalance but Yoongi sees right through him. He gets it. Yoongi’s possibly the only person he can be open like this with.
Yoongi can’t remember how it started really. How they first found themselves leaving the private member’s club they’re currently sat in, seeking out the rumoured bar downstairs, an exact replica of the bar upstairs only with men instead of women working the room. But it happened, and happened again, and again, and Yoongi doesn’t mind, really. It’s nice to unwind with a whiskey; even better with a good-looking guy to look at while doing so. He trusts Taehyung to keep their visits quiet – it would be too damaging to both of their careers if it got out.
Taehyung finds them seats once they’re inside and Yoongi orders more drinks. Someone’s dancing on the stage, low, throbbing bass bleeding through the speakers. There are a few people dotted around the room but it’s not busy. It never is in here. The money required to be a member of the main club is enough to keep numbers low, and the amount of men who wish to indulge in this particular guilty pleasure even lower.
It’s warm and Taehyung slips his suit jacket off, draping it on the chair next to him. Yoongi keeps his on, straightening out some barely noticeable creases on his black button-up shirt and fixing his similarly black tie as he takes his phone from his inner pocket. Their drinks soon arrive and Yoongi takes a large swig.
He checks his emails, chest tensing when he sees a message from Yujin, one of the juniors on the team, asking which account he needs to transfer the funds into. Fucking idiot. It’s an unwritten rule that no business takes place in this city without bribes involved, but you never do anything stupid like actually refer to such a thing in an email.
I don't think you meant to send this Yoongi simply replies.
He can imagine Yujin reading it, descending into a spiral of panic as he realises what he’s done. At least he’ll learn his lesson not to do it again. That’s if he keeps his job. Yoongi sighs and makes a mental note to speak to one of the IT managers on Monday to delete any trace of that email. Investigations aren’t common, but they can happen occasionally. Government likes to look important now and again. He reaches inside his inner pocket again, this time pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
“Hello stranger,” comes a soft, charming voice. “Thought you might have forgotten about me.”
“Impossible.”
Yoongi resists the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he lights a cigarette and brings it to his lips, glancing over to his side. There’s someone familiar sat next to Taehyung, wearing something silk and floaty and belted. Beneath it Yoongi can see slithers of toned skin, arm flexing nicely as a coy finger runs along Taehyung’s forearm. The guy is flirty and sweet and Taehyung’s very obviously infatuated. Yoongi remembers the way he tried – and failed – to hide the disappointment on his face the one time they came here and this particular guy wasn’t working.
“Every night I've been hoping I’d see you again,” the guy pouts, teasing and practiced, fingertip now tracing slow circles on Taehyung’s wrist. "You've kept me waiting too long."
“I’m sorry, Jimin,” Taehyung tells him, embarrassingly keen and eager to apologise. “It’s been so busy at work. I-I really wanted to see you too.”
Yoongi does roll his eyes this time. He’s seen Taehyung win in tough negotiations over boardroom tables. He’s seen him charm and coerce difficult clients into accepting missed deadlines. He’s seen him hold his own in gambling dens, penthouses, wherever he needs to go to secure a deal, regardless of legality. But around this Jimin character, he always seems to dissolve into into a stumbling, weak mess of a man.
“You work too hard,” Jimin chides gently, fingers now playing with the end of Taehyung’s tie. “You should take a vacation.”
“Could I take you with me?” he grins in response. Jimin giggles, putting on a show of shyness, even as he curls into Taehyung’s body a little more, hooks his knee over Taehyung’s thigh.
“Of course,” Jimin tells him, looking up at Taehyung coquettishly, fingers walking languidly up along the length of Taehyung’s tie. “Where would you take me? Somewhere nice?"
There’s a red snake design on the tie, but Yoongi feels it would suit Jimin more than Taehyung right now. There’s something very predatory about Jimin, despite the cute laughter and sweet smiles, and right now Yoongi can’t see his colleague any more. Instead he just sees willing prey.
Yoongi sighs softly and looks back at his phone. Yujin needs to go is the first new message from his boss. Yoongi’s momentarily confused by how he knew about the fuck up, before realising that his secretary was copied in on the mail too. Rookie mistake. The secretaries are good; make you think you’re their friend, that you can trust them. But ultimately, they’ll use whatever they can to stay on the boss’s good side. No different from the rest of them, really.
“You look like you need to relax,” comes a quiet, lilting voice next to Yoongi.
He looks up from his phone, blinking at the man sat next to him. He’s a similar height to Jimin, though very slim and petite compared to Jimin’s more muscular frame. He’s pretty, eyes highlighted with eyeshadow and lips pink with balm.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Yoongi tells him, before looking back at his phone.
“You sure?” the guy continues. “I think you’d have a lot more fun with me than your phone.”
Yoongi sighs and looks back up, offering a tight smile. He knows the guy’s only doing his job, but Yoongi’s not really interested. He doesn’t mind watching the dancers on stage but he doesn’t care much for buying dances, which is no doubt what this guy’s after. That's where the money is, after all.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Yoongi repeats, and he gives up easily. They’re not pushy here at least, and Yoongi appreciates it a lot.
He finishes his cigarette, stubbing it out in the elegant ashtray. There’s a new dancer on the stage, leather and lace covering various parts of him – for now. It brings a wry smile to Yoongi’s face at the various attempts at class this place tries. No costumes or cheap garments here. It all seems a little stupid really, considering that everyone in this room is ultimately here for the less-than-classy reason of seeing men take their clothes off for money.
Yoongi puts his phone away, finding it hard to concentrate with Taehyung’s inane chatter beside him. He’s telling Jimin about a beach he’d like to take him to in the Maldives, and Jimin’s teasing Taehyung playfully about whether he’d be brave enough to skinny dip in the ocean. Out of the corner his eye he sees Jimin’s hand now running smoothly along Taehyung’s collar, mouth close to Taehyung’s ear. Yoongi can’t hear anything more, for which he is hugely thankful, given the way that Taehyung’s cheeks flush pink from whatever Jimin's saying.
Yoongi takes a sip of his drink, enjoying the low burn in his throat. He half-watches the dancer on stage, a wave of tiredness washing over him. It’s been a long week – a long fucking year, really. His gaze drifts over to some of the suited men at the bar, here on their own and casting continuous nervous and curious glances over at the stage. Yoongi wonders for how many of them it’s their first time here.
A tall, lithe man walks over to one of them, who almost drops his tightly-clutched glass in flustered excitement. Yoongi smirks. He’s probably another Taehyung; ferocious in the boardroom but a pussycat once a good-looking man is paying him attention.
When Yoongi looks back at Taehyung, Jimin’s moved to the floor in front of him, body writhing in time with the music. Dainty fingers roam over Taehyung’s calves, his knees, a rehearsed move of seduction. He pushes Taehyung's legs apart and slots between them, leaning back as his body rolls smoothly. He looks up at Taehyung through his eyelashes, an act of innocence with filthy intent behind it. Yoongi swears he can hear how fucking loud Taehyung swallows.
“Looks like your friend’s having fun.”
A low voice from beside him makes Yoongi turn around. The owner of the voice sits next to him, lips curved cockily into a smirk. Yoongi’s calm and collected demeanour fades for the briefest of moments.
He’s hot; real fucking hot. Even though he’s sitting down Yoongi can tell that he’s tall. He’s wearing some kind of sheer black shirt, unbuttoned not too low but low enough, the hard lines of his chest obvious beneath it. Long, thick thighs extend beneath the tight, dark material of his fitted shorts, the tan skin seeming endless. His eyes are deep brown, both piercing and amused. It takes a few seconds for Yoongi to register his words.
“If you call getting played for money fun, then yeah, I guess he is,” Yoongi replies, taking a long sip of his drink.
“Hmm,” the man replies airily, as though not really taking Yoongi’s words seriously. It irks him slightly, but he doesn’t let it show. “Jimin gets a ton of cash, your friend gets real good show. If that’s getting played, then I’d say it sounds like a pretty good game.”
Yoongi doesn’t quite know what to say to that, unused to getting much chat here that goes past superficial and tired lines. The guy keeps on smirking and Yoongi sighs in a show of unaffectedness that he’s not sure is altogether convincing. He looks away, meaning he gets an eyeful of the other two instead. Jimin’s now in Taehyung’s lap, facing away, hands braced on Taehyung's knees and back arched as he grinds down into his lap. The loose top has slipped down and off his shoulders at some point, skin bare as he looks over and behind him at Taehyung. The gentle smiles have gone, replaced with hooded eyes and parted lips.
“Can I have a smoke?”
Yoongi blinks, turning back to look at the guy next to him. Yoongi grunts in the affirmative, holding out the pack of cigarettes to him. The guy takes one and places it between his lips, leaning down a little to let Yoongi light it for him. Yoongi can’t quite tell how old he is. He looks young, but his attitude is full of a confidence and self-assurance that seems to speak of more years. Yoongi doesn’t ask, not wanting to give away any interest.
“So, you haven’t been here in a while.” He tips his head back, letting the smoke slowly escape his lips.
“Me?” Yoongi checks, because he’s certain he’s never met this guy before.
“Yeah,” comes the reply, another drag on the cigarette. “I’ve seen you here a few times. Always with that one. He your boyfriend?”
Yoongi lets out a small, affronted noise. “Fuck no. He’s an- acquaintance, I guess.”
The guy arches an eyebrow, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You married?”
He leans over, trying to catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s ring finger. “I thought this place prided itself on discretion,” Yoongi huffs.
“So that’s a yes.”
“Definitely not a yes.” Yoongi shoots him a pointed look and the other man’s eyes glint mischievously. “Happily single.”
“That so,” Jeongguk muses, in that airy way that irks Yoongi once again.
“Yep,” Yoongi replies, turning away.
Jimin’s sat fully in Taehyung’s lap now. His smaller hands rest over Taehyung’s, guiding them over his thighs as he spreads his legs wide. His body rolls back slowly against Taehyung to the sultry beat of the music. Taehyung looks down at him with an almost childlike wonder that seems completely at odds with the setting, letting his fingers be dragged across the delicate skin of Jimin's inner thighs.
“Didn't realise you'd been watching me before," Yoongi says, just for something to break the lingering silence. Normally the workers here are full of lines and easy seduction. This guy just seems to be staring at him, unfathomable smile on his lips. "Thought us guys were meant to be the creeps."
This seems to draw a grin from the other, face scrunching up slightly in a way that's a little more cute than hot. Only for a moment.
"You a creepy guy, then?"
"Not just me," Yoongi clarifies, lighting up another cigarette. "Anyone who comes here. Paying for your company and- stuff."
"And stuff," the guy repeats, looking oddly amused. He pauses, takes another drag on his cigarette. "And what if we enjoy- the stuff?"
Yoongi shifts slightly. He's never really thought much about it, assuming that everyone here was doing it to make a living. He can't imagine having men leering and groping at you every night is particularly fulfilling, more a means to get by. Everyone makes a living somehow but this doesn't seem like the optimum choice.
"Do you?"
The guy simply grins, a little less cute and a little more devious this time. Yoongi takes another sip of his drink, casting his gaze back to the stage. A few more seconds pass without word before the other speaks.
"I noticed you before 'cause you're my type."
"And what's your type?" Yoongi finds himself asking, tone attempting to remain disinterested.
"A challenge."
It draws Yoongi's attention. He arches an eyebrow, turning back to the man.
"All the times you come here, you never let loose. Not like your friend over there." He nods in Taehyung's direction. "And I know it's not 'cause you're shy like these guys." He nods this time in the direction of the bar.
"Maybe I just like to enjoy the ambience."
“The ambience. Right."
There's the slightest of smiles in the guy's voice, and Yoongi inexplicably finds the corners of his mouth twitching into a tiny smile too.
Movement to Yoongi's left catches his eye as Jimin stands up, leaning over to whisper something against Taehyung's ear. Taehyung nods wordlessly, letting Jimin take his hand and walk him in the direction of one of the private rooms, a dazed look on his face the whole time. Yoongi knows that upstairs a lot more than dances goes on in those rooms, from what his colleagues sometimes let slip on Monday mornings. As to what exactly happens when Taehyung disappears with Jimin down here, Yoongi couldn't say.
"It's 'cause you're fucking hot, too."
Yoongi looks back at the other, confused by the sudden declaration. The guy finishes his cigarette, stubbing it out over the remains of Yoongi’s last one.
"What?"
"Why I noticed you. I mean, look around. Not much exactly much to get the heart racing," he says. "Guy like you walks in, I'm gonna notice."
Yoongi knows not to fall for it. It's the same spiel he no doubt gives to countless men, boosting their ego and filling them with flattery until the wallet comes out. But Yoongi can't help it; he preens a little at the compliment, no matter how fake it might be.
"Yeah?" he smirks, playing along. God, he's fucking prey, willing for the taking, just like Taehyung.
The guy notices that he's caught Yoongi's attention, wetting his lips lightly. "Yeah," he replies, voice low and eyes glinting. He holds Yoongi's gaze for a long few moments. "What's your name?"
"Yoongi," he replies, answering easier than he’d like. "And you?"
"Kookie."
Yoongi blinks then lets out a sharp, quiet laugh. "Kookie?"
"It's a nickname. 'cause I'm so sweet." He grins at Yoongi, more teasing than sweet.
"I doubt that very much."
His face creases up into another genuine-seeming grin before softening back into something more seductive, more enticing. "Fine. It's 'cause I taste real fucking good."
It's corny as fuck but somehow he has the delivery to make it seem sexy rather than amusing. Yoongi shifts in his seat again, finishing his whiskey.
"I can't call you Kookie," Yoongi tells him firmly before adding in a lower octave, “no matter how good you might taste."
A pink tongue comes out to lick at his lips again, the other man seeming to like Yoongi's words. Knowing that he's reeling him in, just as planned. Yoongi's feeling a lot more willing to be lured in than he expected. But then again, he's not quite met someone here like this guy before. He supposes that's what all the patrons here must say. Making excuses for base desire and weakness.
"In that case, it's Jungkook."
A new song starts, a slow, pulsing r'n'b beat thrumming through the room. Something shimmers in Jungkook's eyes, recognition and excitement.
"I love this song," he says, voice soft, pulling Yoongi in. "Can I dance for you?"
Maybe it's the whiskey, or the long week, or the allure of the man beside him, but Yoongi relents. He's almost ashamed at the speed with which he does. So much for a challenge. He thinks about holding out, about keeping up the facade of disinterest, but he's just as fucking weak as any other guy here. The thought of getting Jungkook's attention on him like that, even if it's not entirely real, proves a touch too tempting right now.
"If you must."
Jungkook grins at this, low and victorious and dirty. He stands up straight away and Yoongi stubs out his cigarette. Yoongi's about to settle back into his seat when he feels a strong grip around his wrist, Jungkook pulling him up.
"Wh-"
"Wanna give you a private dance," Jungkook murmurs, tugging him in the direction of one of the secluded rooms.
"Doesn't that cost a lot more?"
"You can afford it," Jungkook tells him.
It's true, Yoongi can. But it's the principle; the feeling of being taken for a fool, who'll pay anything just because he can. He's about to argue his point before Jungkook adds-
"Anyway, this one's for free."
Yoongi's so taken aback by his comment that he lets himself get pulled into one of the rooms, Jungkook gently pushing him down onto the plush cushioned seating area. The song from the main room fills the space here too, the beat languid and pulsing through the speakers. Jungkook closes his eyes briefly, as though absorbing the music before opening them and focusing fully on Yoongi.
He starts off like Jimin, knelt on the floor, but instead facing away. He glances over his shoulder, biting down on his lip, and Yoongi's fingers grip onto the padding of the seat. Jungkook's hands slide along the sides of his shins before resting on Yoongi’s knees. His body curves and rolls with the music. He presses his hands down, using Yoongi's knees as leverage as his hips raise up, back bowed elegantly as his ass hovers barely inches from Yoongi's crotch. Yoongi grips the seat a little tighter.
Jungkook swings one leg round, the move looking effortless despite being something that would no doubt send Yoongi toppling over if he attempted it. He ends up straddling Yoongi's thigh, hips lifted just enough that he's not actually in contact. He's teasing Yoongi and Yoongi lets him. His body moves with slow, lazy rolls, eyes fixed on Yoongi as he gradually unbuttons his sheer shirt, the soft material falling down his arms before dropping to the floor.
Fuck, his body is good. He's muscular, built, but not overly so. Despite the hard planes, the defined lines of his chest, Jungkook's waist is slim, shoulders not quite as broad as Yoongi's. His smooth stomach tenses briefly as he moves his leg over Yoongi's other thigh, effectively straddling his lap now, knees either side of Yoongi.
"I do enjoy it."
"What?"
Yoongi feels mesmerised by the roll of Jungkook's hips, the way his body is lifted just enough to be a tease. Yoongi shifts slightly, itching to have Jungkook that extra bit closer.
"You asked me earlier if I enjoyed this stuff," Jungkook explains. "And I do."
"Oh," Yoongi says, not sure how to respond.
It doesn't matter because Jungkook chooses that moment to lower his hips, to let them roll deliberate and measured down into Yoongi's. Yoongi's breath catches, the new pressure both welcome and surprising. Jungkook's hands run along Yoongi's arms, fingers eventually resting on the lapels of his suit jacket. He takes it off without any resistance from Yoongi and lays it on the seat next to them.
"It's fun to see guys like you, like this."
"Guys like me?"
"You know. Got all your shit together. Good job, great money. Nice apartment in the city, flashy car. God complex. But just one dance, and you're a total mess."
"Big fucking talk," Yoongi replies, trying hard to keep the slight tremble from his voice.
"'s true," Jungkook smirks. "All that power disappears in here. All that corporate bullshit. And that- that I like."
Jungkook leans in, so close that Yoongi can feel his breath flutter against his lips, and for an absurd moment Yoongi thinks Jungkook's going to kiss him. But he doesn't. Instead he stands up, turning around as his hands stroke over Yoongi's legs. Yoongi reaches out instinctively, hands skimming tentatively along Jungkook's outer thighs. He can feel the muscle shifting beneath soft skin, making Yoongi swallow thickly. A low noise of approval slips past Jungkook's lips.
"Yeah, that's it," Jungkook whispers. "You finally gonna let loose a little?”
Yoongi doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Simply presses his fingertips a little firmer against his skin.
“It’s okay to give into it, you know? I know you guys like to be in control, but it’s fine to just go with things sometimes. With how you feel.”
“I thought this was a dance, not a therapy session.”
There’s a quiet huff of laughter, and Yoongi’s sure if Jungkook was facing him he’d see that cute scrunch of the nose again. Jungkook gives a short, sharp shake of the head, as though physically bringing himself back into the moment. He tilts his hips back, ass pressing teasingly against Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi’s fingers instinctively grip tighter, and he hears Jungkook’s low chuckle.
“Just seems like you need a little encouragement, you know? Don’t be so fucking tense. Relax. Enjoy.”
“Jesus, you’re a real talker, aren’t you?”
Yoongi’s only ever had one lap dance once before. He’d just joined the company, young and somewhat naïve. A business trip to Hong Kong, deal made in a strip club. For their own amusement the senior employees had bought Yoongi a dance after securing the contract. Yoongi felt too junior to say no, clenching his fists and enduring their cat calls as the girl danced for him. She hadn’t been chatty at all, stony silent and looking much more like she was enduring it, keen to finish things as fast as possible. Yoongi had felt exactly the same. This experience feels a million miles from that.
“Seems like I need to be. Need you to give into what you want, or else this will be way less fun.”
“And what do I want?” Yoongi murmurs, hands resting on Jungkook’s hips now, feeling the lazy rhythm of their rolls, touching but only teasingly so. Yoongi’s gaze drops down to the curve of Jungkook’s ass, firm and enticing beneath the stretch of the dark fabric. Yoongi bites down on his lip. God, he’s no better than Taehyung, blinded by lust.
“Me.”
Yoongi lets out a quiet, derisive snort. “Pretty full of yourself.”
Jungkook’s hips lower, ass now pressed firmly against Yoongi’s crotch, no doubt feeling the way that Yoongi’s half-hard right now, body responding easily to the sight in front of him. He grinds back into him, Yoongi’s breath hitching noisily.
“Seems like you agree.” No need to see his face; the smug smirk is clear in Jungkook’s voice. “No shame in it. Bet you’re thinking about all the things you’d like to do to me, huh? How this ass would feel without all these layers, sinking down on your cock. Wondering how well I’d take it.”
“Fuck.”
Yoongi holds his hips harder, looking up at the ceiling and trying to calm the rush of want that floods his body at Jungkook’s words. A strong wave of arousal that’s soon replaced with concern about where this is heading. He’s heard enough thinly veiled tales of what happens in these rooms but it makes him feel more than a bit uneasy. Paying for a dance is one thing; this, however, is something else entirely.
Yoongi sometimes isn’t sure where the line is with his morals. He’s thieved and threatened back in the days when money was still tight. He’s stepped over colleagues for promotions, bribed and blackmailed his way to the top. He’s secured murky deals for the company in the sort of trades that don’t show up on the books. He smokes, drinks, occasionally indulges in the harder stuff in those moments when he needs a boost to keep him going on one hour of sleep. But paying for sex? Crossing that particular line is one step too much.
“It’s okay to want that,” Jungkook says lowly. “I want it too. Have done ever since I first saw you. You’re so fucking handsome. And you got this like, commanding aura. Makes me want you so bad. Wanna get under your skin.”
“Jungkook, stop,” Yoongi breathes out, unsure as to how much of what he says is true and how much is exaggerated. It doesn’t matter though. “I’m fine with the dance-“
“More than fine, feels like.”
“- but I’m not paying for sex. Sorry.”
Jungkook pauses for the briefest of moments, before leaning back fully against Yoongi. His spine presses into Yoongi’s chest, head tipped back and resting on Yoongi’s shoulder. He looks up at Yoongi through his long eyelashes, huffing gently.
“Is money all you ever think about?”
“I’m not paying for-“.
“Chill. Fuck. I don’t want your money. Just want to have some fun.”
Yoongi’s brow creases. Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“We are human, you know. Not just out for cash. I get turned on too. And you- well, you really fucking turn me on, Yoongi.” He pauses, wetting his lips. “I want to enjoy myself. You not gonna help me with that?"
Yoongi swallows hard. It’s been a long time since he’s been with anyone, and even then it was only a messy fuck in a club bathroom, both of them too out of it to remember much about it afterwards. And that guy was nothing like Jungkook. Nowhere near as attractive, as feisty, as intriguing as the man now sitting in his lap. Maybe Jungkook’s right; maybe it’s not such a bad thing to give into the weakness for once. If it’s just about desire, not money, then-
“Depends. How do you want me to help you, baby?”
Yoongi’s tone drops lower, words breathed out over the shell of Jungkook’s ear. He sees the small shiver travel through Jungkook at his words, cocky demeanour dropping momentarily before he grins, lewd and pleased.
“Touch me.”
Jungkook covers one of Yoongi’s hands with his own, leading it across his defined stomach, down, down, until Yoongi’s palm presses against his crotch. Jungkook lets slip a low, shaky breath, arching up into the pressure. Yoongi bites back a groan when he feels how hard Jungkook is, a perverse thrill in knowing how badly Jungkook wants this. That there was truth in what he was saying.
“Yeah, fuck,” Jungkook sighs, melting back even more against Yoongi’s chest.
Jungkook’s impatient, moving his hand away from Yoongi’s to harshly tug down the material that’s in the way. His cock bobs free, hard and thick, skin pulled taut. Yoongi doesn’t touch his length straight away. He lets his fingers drift down, gently playing with Jungkook’s balls, his other hand reaching up to rub teasingly over his nipple. A low, drawn out whine falls from Jungkook, needy and loud, sending heat coiling in Yoongi’s gut.
“Thought I was meant to be the desperate one here.”
Yoongi’s words are quiet but he knows Jungkook hears them. Dark brown eyes meet Yoongi’s, teeth biting down on a pink lower lip. Jungkook looks like he’s about to speak. Whatever sharp retort was planned dies on his tongue, a soft moan escaping instead as Yoongi lightly pinches his nipple.
“Knew you’d be good with your hands,” Jungkook murmurs. “Always look like they’d feel good on me. Around my dick, my throat.”
“Kinky fucker,” Yoongi chides.
“You look like the type too,” Jungkook replies.
“Used to be. When I was younger.”
“Christ, you’re talking like you're eighty,” Jungkook says. “You’ve only gotta be, what- mid thirties?”
His eyes sparkle playfully, knowing he’s pushing Yoongi a little. Yoongi kind of likes it, and lets his hand drift up to wrap around Jungkook’s cock. It makes his eyes flutter closed, hiding that mischievous glint.
“I’m twenty-seven, you little shit,” Yoongi tells him. “But yes, maybe I should phrase it differently. When I had more time, then.”
Yoongi’s mind flits back to his younger years. Nights when he had new-found money and time and freedom to explore that side of himself. Finding time to sleep is enough of a challenge these days, and his bedsheets rarely see anything more than that.
“Mm,” Jungkook replies noncommittally, conversation forgotten with the subtle twist of Yoongi’s hand on him. Yoongi’s grip is loose, torturous more than anything else. A slow, steady back and forth along Jungkook’s length that’s not enough and gets him writhing in Yoongi’s lap.
“How old are you, then?”
Yoongi brings his thumb to his mouth, wetting the pad before dropping it back to Jungkook’s nipple, enjoying the rough gasp he receives for it.
“Twenty. Fuck, keep doing that.”
“You like that?”
Jungkook nods. Yoongi’s hand leaves his heavy cock, joining the other to play with his nipples. He pinches, hard, and Jungkook draws in a loud, scratchy breath. He looks down at Jungkook, eyes closed and lips parted in pleasure. He is young, like Yoongi suspected. He wonders where the easy confidence, the cocky nature comes from. Wonders how he ended up working in a job like this. Jungkook said it’s because it’s fun, but Yoongi guesses there must be more to his story than that.
“Sometimes wonder if I could cum just from this,” Jungkook muses aloud.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook sighs. “Tried it once but I couldn’t.”
Yoongi chuckles lowly. He goes to press his lips below Jungkook’s ear but stops himself. He’s not quite sure what the boundaries are. Which sounds pretty fucking dumb given the situation they’re currently in, but still.
“Shame,” Yoongi murmurs.
“Not really. Got me so worked up that it didn’t take much. Barely had to touch myself before I came so fucking hard. Made a real mess.”
Yoongi groans softly, head tipping back. His own cock is hot and throbbing in his underwear, and Jungkook’s low words and breathy sighs do nothing to quell the ache. Jungkook’s legs spread wider, leaning back impossibly closer to Yoongi. Yoongi drops a hand to his hip, encouraging the smooth grind into his lap again, needing that friction against him.
“So hard, Yoongi,” Jungkook exhales. “God, wanna feel it in me.”
Yoongi answers with a roll of his hips up against Jungkook’s ass, tugging him down hard onto his lap with his hand as he does so. Moans fall from both of them at the action. And then Jungkook’s standing up, tugging off the shorts down his legs and opening a small, concealed cupboard in the corner of the room. He returns with a small bottle of lube and a condom. It seems the rumours about these rooms were indeed true.
Jungkook straddles Yoongi’s lap again, facing him. He uncaps the bottle and Yoongi’s hands run over the tops of his thighs, enjoying the shift of muscle beneath his fingertips. Jungkook slicks up his fingers, some of the liquid dripping down onto Yoongi’s shirt. Yoongi frowns.
“Sorry,” Jungkook smirks, not looking the tiniest bit apologetic.
His clean hand raises to clutch onto Yoongi’s shoulder for balance, other hand reaching behind himself. His tongue pokes out, licking at his lips before they part in a soft gasp. The muscles of Jungkook’s bicep flex as he starts to push inside. Yoongi tries to keep his own breathing steady, but it’s difficult with a lapful of a hot guy fingering himself.
“You look good, baby,” Yoongi tells him.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies. “I know.”
“Cocky fuck.”
Jungkook’s mouth pulls into a wanton smile, eyes fixed on Yoongi as he slowly preps himself. His lips are parted, head tilted slightly back to show the curve of his throat. Yoongi wants to kiss, to lick and bite, but he restrains himself. He manages to keep his mouth in check, but his hands are a different story. He itches to touch, to feel, and one hand slides purposefully up over Jungkook’s thigh, his hip, reaching around to grab his ass.
“Yeah, you like that?” Jungkook teases, voice high, breathless. He reaches for Yoongi’s other hand, bringing it round to grab the other cheek. Yoongi squeezes roughly, letting the half-whine, half-moan that comes from Jungkook wash over him. He spreads them apart slightly, aiding Jungkook’s movements.
“Yeah,” Yoongi tells him, pointlessly.
“Would you eat me out?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty fucking good at it. And I kind of want to have you cumming on my cock, not my tongue.”
A small laugh shakes Jungkook’s shoulders, grin on his lips. It strangely makes Yoongi grin too.
“Big fucking talk,” he replies, mimicking Yoongi’s words from earlier. “Next time, maybe.”
“Next time?” Yoongi arches an eyebrow.
“Oh, you’ll want to see me again. I’m sure of it.”
“Where did you learn such arrogance,” Yoongi teases lightly, smacking his palm on Jeongguk’s ass.
“In my genes, I guess. Do that again.”
Yoongi does, a little harder this time. Jungkook groans quietly, hips bucking at the sensation. Yoongi lets his palm drift, finger curiously stroking around Jungkook’s rim, feeling the stretch from the two fingers currently inside of him. He presses inside too, just the tip, but the dry slide is enough to pull a low moan from the other.
“Can’t wait to get inside me, huh?”
Yoongi doesn’t reply, his heavy breathing and obvious erection enough of an answer already. Jungkook looks amazing, knelt above his lap, working himself open. Yoongi pulls away, returning to grip at the meat of his ass instead. Eventually Jungkook’s brow pinches, eyes closing, as a third finger slips inside.
“Almost,” Jungkook sighs, voice almost cracking. He swallows thickly, eyes opening again. “You gonna fuck me real good, Yoongi?”
“‘Of course.”
“Give it to me how I like it, yeah? How all those guys out there wish they could.”
An odd surge of jealousy shoots through Yoongi, as he wonders how many people Jungkook does this with. It must show on his face, the arousal and the heat of the moment making it less easy than usual to hide his feelings.
“You’re the only one here who’s ever had this ass, Yoongi,” Jungkook murmurs. “Everyone out there just looks, and wants, and has to go home to jerk off over the memories.”
“Yeah?"
“Yeah,” Jungkook sighs, almost laughs. “God, I’m so fucking ready. Gimme your cock.”
Yoongi huffs out his own laugh, leaning back and letting Jungkook fumble with his belt buckle.
“So fucking demanding.”
“Mm. And you’d give me anything I wanted, wouldn’t you?”
“Spoilt little thing, huh?"
Yoongi watches the way that Jungkook tugs down his zipper. His lifts his hips to help Jungkook pull his suit pants and underwear down, just enough for his cock to bob free. He’s so fucking hard, precome dripping down the sides of his length, staining the hem of his shirt.
“You don’t want to spoil me?” Jungkook pouts, an affected act that doesn’t sit well on him unlike Jimin. Jungkook leers. “Be my sugar daddy?”
Yoongi looks up at him, blinking hard. He remembers his brother once jokingly suggesting such an arrangement after Yoongi told his family, yet again, that he didn’t have time to date. Someone to give Yoongi attention and affection when required in exchange for a life of luxury. Yoongi had dismissed it easily, laughing along with his brother. But seeing Jungkook right now, he gets why people would. Why they would happily shower someone with lavish gifts and lifestyle in exchange for this whenever they want it. The attention. The intimacy.
Maybe Yoongi’s just as bad as the rest of them, when it comes down to it.
“Jimin’s after one, you know. A sugar daddy. Think he’s got his eyes set on your friend,” Jungkook tells him. “Think your friend would do it?”
“Fuck should I know?” Yoongi huffs. “And if you want my cock in you, you better stop talking about Taehyung.”
Jungkook laughs again, almost sweet, but it soon fades. He shifts a little, taking Yoongi’s cock in his hand. Yoongi exhales sharply, the feel of fingers wrapping around his aching length sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.
“Yeah, that’s-“
Yoongi's barely panted out the words when Jungkook's hand leaves him, grabbing the condom and ripping it open eagerly. He rolls it on easily, Yoongi's eyes falling shut for the few seconds that Jungkook's touching him, slicking him up. He reopens them to find himself on the end of the younger's gaze. He watches Yoongi intently, desire and lust evident, a heady mix.
Jungkook shifts forward, trying to line himself up before his hand gets nudged away. Yoongi grips his hip, firm, while holding the base of his cock with his other hand. He gets tantalisingly close before pulling away, drinking in the aggravated noise it draws from the other. His cock instead slips between his cheeks, teasing.
"God, put it in me," Jungkook groans, voice heavy with need. It makes that heat flare in Yoongi's gut. His hand curls around the nape of Yoongi's neck, fingers rubbing encouragingly as he leans in, mouth hovering next to Yoongi's ear. '"Don't you wanna feel it? Your thick cock stretching me out?"
Yoongi's cock throbs and he's lost this game. A small, aroused noise escapes him, quickly tugging Jeongguk into position. He lines himself up and slowly pulls Jungkook down onto him. Jungkook's head falls back, sinful moan slipping from his wet lips. Yoongi fails to hold back his own moan, the heat and pressure around his cock feeling goddamn heavenly.
"Shit, you feel good," Yoongi grunts softly. "So fucking tight."
Jungkook gives a low murmur of approval at Yoongi's words, but seems incapable of saying much more for the moment. He spreads his legs a little wider, sinking down impossibly deeper onto Yoongi's cock. Yoongi can hear both of their breathing, coming in a short, ragged bursts. Yoongi's fingers find their way to Jungkook's hips, beginning to guide him in a slow rocking motion. Jungkook keens, grabbing onto Yoongi's shoulders as he follows Yoongi's lead.
"Mm, that's it, Yoongi, fuck."
His sentence is stretched out, thin, like talking's a little too much right now. It makes Yoongi's stomach jump with pleasure. Jungkook goes loose, pliant, under Yoongi's hands, letting himself be guided in the languid and fucking deep roll of their hips together. One of Jungkook's hands slips down, loosening the knot of Yoongi's tie and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. It only really hits Yoongi now that he's fully clothed while Jungkook is completely naked in his lap. It makes his cock throb as he looks down, Jungkook's hard, fit body on display, pressed to Yoongi's one clothed in tailored fabric. Not quite as immaculate as usual however, with the way that Jungkook's painfully hard cock drips onto Yoongi's shirt. He'll worry about it later.
Jungkook hooks a finger in Yoongi's collar, tugging it down and pressing his mouth to the skin there. His lips are wet and soft, but at the crook of Yoongi's neck he latches on harder, sucking with intent. Yoongi draws a quick, shaky breath.
"No marks."
Jungkook lets out a whine of complaint, lifting his head. Truthfully he'd like Jungkook to continue. To lick and suck and bite on him until he's trembling. But he knows there's no way he can go into the office on Monday morning with those sort of marks on his neck. He needs to stay looking professional, respectable- as laughable as that may sometimes be. Jungkook looks at him, almost sulking, but soon brushes it off. His gaze drops to Yoongi's lips before raising back up. And then he's leaning in, mouth pressing to Yoongi's.
The kiss is wet and lewd, tongues meeting more outside of their mouths than inside. Yoongi likes it though. Likes the heat of it, the neediness, how filthily Jungkook rolls his tongue against Yoongi’s own. It stokes the fire flickering in Yoongi's chest, and it seems to do the same to Jungkook. The slow roll of hips stops, Jungkook lifting almost all the way off of Yoongi's cock before sinking back down. He soon builds up a rhythm, bouncing fast and hard in his lap. Yoongi reaches forward, grabbing hold of his ass and helping his movements.
The kiss stalls, mouths pressed open against each other, simply drinking in the shared gasped breaths than doing anything more. Yoongi can feel the way Jungkook's muscles tense under his hands as he rides him, hard and so intense. Yoongi starts raising his hips, meeting Jungkook half-way on each thrust, the slap of skin on skin intoxicating.
"Your cock, Yoongi, god," Jungkook groans. "So thick, so good, yeah, give it to me like that-."
"Take it so well, baby," Yoongi tells him. "Feel so fucking nice around me."
He looks down, holding Jungkook's hips still so that he can thrust up into him more lazily, watching the way his cock disappears so smoothly into him. A wave of arousal hits Yoongi hard. He bites down on his lip, entranced for a little while longer as he fucks him with long, slow strokes. Jungkook groans throatily above him, grip tightening on Yoongi's shoulders. Eventually the arousal becomes too pressing, too urgent, and Yoongi speeds up again.
"Yoongi, yeah, yes- like that, fuck."
Jungkook murmurs nonsensically and Yoongi lets it wash over him, fucking drowning in the sighs and groans and overcome words. Jungkook's head hangs loosely, jaw open and slack as Yoongi fucks up into him. Every so often Yoongi will pull him down hard onto his lap, holding him there as he grinds up into him, drawing out the sweetest sounding moans from Jungkook that make him near ready to cum right there and then.
"Harder, ah, fuck me hard, god, need it so bad."
"What happened to turning me into the mess, huh?" Yoongi asks lowly, helping Jungkook to stand on shaky legs. There's only a moment before Yoongi's manoeuvred him to bend over the seating area, ass on full display. Yoongi runs his hands over him, almost reverent in his touch.
"Whatever. You're fucking weak for this ass already, I can tell."
Yoongi gives him a sharp slap on the right cheek for that, not missing the little gasp of pleasure it pulls from Jungkook. He knows it's true though. It's been way too long since he's had a night like this; the burning arousal, the relief of a good, hard fuck, the pleasure of a filthy-minded partner. He considers teasing Jungkook a while longer but the need to slip back inside that tight, wet heat is too much. He holds onto Jungkook's hips, sliding into him easily, earning a low, long moan from the younger as he does so.
"Look so good, Jungkook. Bent over like that, so ready for me."
"Jesus, just fuck me already."
Yoongi smirks. He wastes no time before he's fucking into him hard, pace almost brutal. Jungkook doesn't seem to mind though; in fact, he seems to love it. He braces himself on his elbows, pushing back his hips onto Yoongi's as much as he can.
He shifts around, clearly trying to seek out the best angle. Eventually he seems to find it, chest dropping to the cushions and expression turning glazed. Yoongi makes sure to hold his waist in place, driving into him in that spot over, and over, and over. Yoongi feels too hot everywhere, clothes clinging to sticky, sweat soaked skin, but he can't find it within him to care. His focus is narrowed down to Jungkook, to the pleasure and the need and the relief, hovering just on the edge of his awareness.
"Keep going, don't fucking stop," Jungkook mumbles.
Yoongi wants to pull away. To tease him, to change position, to draw this out a little longer. But he can't bring himself to stop fucking into him, to bring himself away from the perfect clench of Jungkook's ass around him, from the slick, hot slide of his cock into the younger man. So he keeps going, fucks him harder, until his legs are shaking and Jungkook's clawing desperately at the fabric of the seat. His mouth is hanging open, loud panted sounds escaping him as he lets Yoongi take him so hard, so fully.
"You close?"
Yoongi's question is huffed out, voice tight and scratched. The pleasure is overwhelming. It pulses through his cock, travels along his spine, trickles into every single inch of him.
"So fucking close," Jeongguk answers, voice low, edged with pure, desperate need. "Make me cum, Yoongi, fuck."
Yoongi groans, the sound caught in his throat as Jungkook pushes back onto him, his cock buried even deeper that before. Jungkook whimpers; not in a soft or feminine way. In a rough, lustful way, a noise that lets Yoongi know just how badly he needs it. Yoongi's cock throbs painfully. He's so close too, lower body tightening and the trickling, coiling heat gathering faster and heavier in his gut. He fucks Jungkook almost animalistic, cock pounding into him deeper, faster. He rests a knee up on the seat, fucking up into him a slightly different angle, and Jungkook near sobs. He reaches down to his cock, fist stroking furiously.
"Shit, I'm gonna-"
His words break off, replaced by a long, low, utterly debauched moan, and the heat around Yoongi gets inexplicably tighter. Yoongi stills, pressed deep inside. Strong hands on Jungkook's hips hold him in place as he trembles and gasps, upper body collapsing forward.
"Yeah, that's it, baby," Yoongi murmurs. "Cum on my cock."
He draws in a sharp breath, the intensity of Jungkook clenching around him teetering on almost too much. But then the tension dissolves, Jungkook's body visibly relaxing, and the shaky, short gasps are replaced with slower, deep breaths.
"Oh, fuck," Jungkook groans, sounding utterly sated in a way that sends a fresh pang of arousal shooting through Yoongi.
Jungkook moves forward, Yoongi's cock slipping out of him. Yoongi's jaw tenses, the heavy heat of his lower body so painful. Jungkook rolls over, wincing just a little, body stretching out along the long cushioned seat. His back arches seductively, eyes watching Yoongi through hooded lids and soft eyelashes. He crooks his finger, beckoning Yoongi over until he's straddling Jungkook's waist. The younger removes the condom, chucking it onto the floor, before wrapping his fingers tight around Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi hisses with pleasure.
"Want you to come on me," Jungkook tells him.
Yoongi can only groan in response.
Jungkook's hand works him quick and messy, cock so wet already. He's ridiculously hard, orgasm hovering just on the periphery. Jungkook shifts under him, gaze flickering between Yoongi's face and his cock, equally entranced by the o of Yoongi's open mouth as by the slick glide of his fingers around Yoongi's length. Jungkook lets out a happy, relaxed hum, body loose with satisfaction.
"God, you fucked me so well," Jungkook tells him, the hint of a groan lacing his words. "Haven't cum that hard in so long."
Yoongi's stomach leaps, edging nearer and nearer to release with Jungkook's admissions. The wet sound of Jungkook's hand moving seems to get louder and louder. Yoongi's breathing gets heavier, quicker. And when Jungkook looks up at him, biting down on his lip like he wants nothing more than to feel Yoongi cum all over him, the pressure finally snaps. Yoongi's jaw hangs slack, eyes falling shut as he cums with a deep groan, rocking into Jungkook's hand as his orgasm flows through him, hot and heavy and fucking incredible.
It takes Yoongi a long time to catch his breath, not helped by the sight of Jungkook spread out beneath him, looking all too pleased with himself. There doesn't seem to be any towels in the room so eventually Jungkook picks up his sheer top from the floor, cleaning himself before discarding it again. Then he sits up, glancing down momentarily at Yoongi's softening cock before leaning forward and taking it into his mouth. Yoongi gasps, partly from shock, partly from the oversensitivity, partly from the fact that it's more than a little hot to watch those soft lips around him, licking up his cum. Yoongi's hand twists into Jungkook's hair, thumb brushing over the nape of his neck before it all become too much.
Music streams through the speakers, Jungkook pulls back on his tight-fitting shorts, and it suddenly hits Yoongi where exactly it is they've just fucked. There's a few moments of odd quiet. He's not sure what happens now. Does he stay? Does Jungkook go back to working the floor like nothing happened?
They walk back out together, the sight of them no doubt giving away what’s occurred. Jungkook's lost his top and Yoongi's got his suit jacket buttoned up carefully to hide the stains on the shirt beneath. Yoongi's not sure about himself, but Jungkook certainly has that just fucked glow about him. Yoongi feels oddly pleased by that.
"Here, take my number," Jungkook says once they reach the bar. He walks behind it, grabbing a pen and tearing off a scrap of paper, scribbling some numbers down. "In case you ever need to loosen up again."
Yoongi nods, unsure what to say. He's saved by the barman strolling over to them, nudging Jungkook.
"Hey Kookie, that guy over there's been asking for you all night. Do him a favour and talk to him or- something."
The implicit nature of what that something means is brutally obvious. Yoongi feels like he needs to leave. Before he does Jungkook leans in on the counter, looking almost conspiratorial. His lips find their way near to Yoongi's ear.
"You know, that guy's CEO of Ahn Holdings? Closed two mergers in the last year alone. And yet the other day, I pretty much just bent over and he came in his pants."
Jungkook grins, mischievous and almost childishly gleeful.
"I see that discretion is still worryingly lacking here," Yoongi replies dryly.
Jungkook winks, still grinning, and somehow Yoongi finds himself grinning back.
*
Yoongi glances over at the clock. Nearly midnight. He stares down blearily at his laptop screen, the spreadsheet and list of share prices making his eyes hurt. He sighs and closes it down. He leans back in his chair, rubbing at his temple. What a fucking week.
Firing Yujin on Monday didn't go as smoothly as planned. He went nuts. Real fucking nuts. Starting threatening to take details of how some particular contracts were secured by their company to the press. A load of bullshit Yoongi really hadn't needed. It seems to have been quashed now at least. Threatened Yujin with enough jargon and extortionate legal fees to have him backing down pretty fast.
Yoongi gets up, wandering into the kitchen. He looks at the coffee machine, instinctively reaching out to start it, but stops himself. It's only midnight. If he goes to bed now, he might actually get a few decent hours of sleep. A rare treat. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking that there's nothing urgent before heading to bed. He's only just sat down on the edge when he hears it; the low thrum of a bassline from above him, the sound of singing, some unknown track playing upstairs. Really? On a fucking Sunday night?
Yoongi considers ringing the concierge downstairs but he knows he'll just get the usual platitudes. Whoever that chaebol is that lives above him has some influence, that's for sure. He's never seen him or her, but from the terrible EDM music and the parties most weekends, he has a good idea of the sort of person residing there.
Yoongi sighs, scrolling through some emails. He glances over to the scrap of paper laying on the table beside his bed, Jungkook's phone number scrawled onto it. Yoongi's not messaged Jungkook as yet. The hours tend to fly by without him noticing and suddenly Yoongi’s found himself here, over a week later, still not having done anything with the number.
But now- now is a rare few hours to himself. He looks down at his phone, contemplating. Would Jungkook be around? Would he even be interested? Yoongi's spent a long time sitting, considering, because the song upstairs changes before he’s even made a decision. It's something faster now, more thumping in bass, and a lot harder to ignore. It fuels him to do something to distract himself. He types in Jungkook's number and presses call. No answer.
Yoongi's on edge now. More so than before. He steels himself, grabbing his keys and storming out his door. He's going to put an end to this shit once and for all. He heads into the elevator and finds himself one floor up.
There are far fewer apartment doors on this level, a sign that the places are a lot bigger than Yoongi's. He tries not to be bitter. He quickly locates the apartment, the faint sound of music seeping through the door. He knocks loud, forgoing the doorbell. An angry fist seems far more appropriate. No one answers. He bangs again, louder this time, and finally it opens.
The man is looking down at his phone as the door swings open, so he's a few seconds behind Yoongi when it registers. Yoongi gapes.
"Jungkook?"
Jungkook looks up from his phone, blinking in surprise at Yoongi. He's wearing grey sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt, but he still looks fucking gorgeous. His face breaks into a stupidly wide grin.
"A phone call and a visit. I am lucky."
"What are you doing here?"
"I live here so- Yeah.“
Yoongi resists the urge to splutter with surprise.
"Christ, how much money do you make at that place?"
Jungkook's brow furrows slightly, trying to work out what Yoongi's referring to, before shaking his head with a huff of laughter.
"Fuck no. That's just for fun, like I told you."
"Right." Yoongi blinks, not quite sure what to think. Jungkook rolls his eyes.
"I just dance there now and then for kicks, you know. Jin-hyung owns it and he's cool with it. Thinks I'm fucking crazy but-"
Jungkook trails off, shrugs, nonchalant.
"You are fucking crazy," Yoongi confirms, before frowning, recalling something mentioned once about that particular members club being owned by infamous Kim family. There isn't much in Seoul that isn't in some way linked to the Kim name, for good or for bad. “Wait, when you say Jin-hyung, you don't mean-"
"Kim Seokjin, yeah," Jungkook says with a casual tilt of the head, as though he's not just name-dropped one of the most well-known company heirs in South Korea. "Old family friend. He likes to indulge me."
"So if you didn't buy this from dancing, then what do you do?"
"Not much. Have fun. Throw some great parties. Shame you never come to them."
"I've not been invited."
"Ah, you're in the same building. That means you're invited."
"Wait, you already knew I live in this building?" Yoongi asks, utterly bewildered.
"Yeah, I've seen you around. Thought you were real fucking hot when I first saw you, but I wasn't sure of your situation. Couldn't believe my luck when I saw you in the club," Jungkook explains, grinning. "But then I thought you were involved with that Taehyung guy so kept my distance. Some couples like it, the whole sharing thing but- not my deal."
"What made you change your mind?"
"Your friend made it pretty clear to Jimin that the two of you weren't involved. Jimin thought it fitting to share the good news with me."
"I see."
There are a few seconds of silence that pass between them.
"And to answer your earlier question, my parents bought this place for me."
"Knew it," Yoongi sighs. Jungkook arches an eyebrow in question. "Knew that it was a fucking spoilt chaebol living above me."
"Yep, that's me," Jungkook smirks.
"So-" Yoongi begins, a little hesitant now. "Are you a Kim too?"
The Kim dynasty isn't one you ever want to get on the wrong side of. Their connections run deep in the city. Everything gets a little bit murky at a certain level, as well Yoongi knows. But it's well known that there are strong mafia connections in that family. Thankfully Jungkook laughs and shakes his head.
"Hell no." Yoongi's stomach settles. “Jeon."
Yoongi just stares, stomach plummeting anew. Jungkook's eyes narrow, as though trying to figure out Yoongi's reaction.
"As in, Jeon Group?"
Jungkook nods cautiously. It fucking makes sense. It's common knowledge that the CEO has two sons; the eldest studying at Seoul National, primed to take over the company one day. The younger one not at all interested in running a corporation, rumoured to be living something of a wild and wayward life that no one dares to discuss. And here Yoongi is, looking right at him.
"As in, the company I work for."
Jungkook's eyes widen in understanding, before he bursts out into loud laughter.
"No fucking way."
A grin tugs at Yoongi's lips, the surreal situation hitting home.
"Best not tell Daddy dearest you fucked his son in a strip club," Jungkook grins. “He’s not a fan of men with our- preferences."
"Wasn't planning on it. Never actually met the guy.”
“Lucky you,” he smirks. “He’s an asshole. Lucky mom loves me, huh."
Another short gap, filled by silence. Yoongi now notices the damp patches on Jungkook’s white t shirt, clinging to the lines of his chest. The damp hair, messy and unruly. He must have showered not long ago. Jungkook shifts in the doorway, hooks a thumb in the waistband of Yoongi's slacks. Tugs him forward.
"So, you wanna come in?" he asks breathily, body pressed to Yoongi's. “I seem to recall you making some pretty bold claims about how skilled you are with your tongue. Wanna see how true they were."
It's another one of those lines Yoongi knows he should pay more thought to crossing. Another one of those decisions where the edges of good and bad become a little blurry. Fucking the boss's son probably isn't the smartest or the most sensible decision he's ever made. But it sure seems like a fun one.
Yoongi smirks.
“I’m a man of my word."
And he lets Jungkook pull him inside.