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Jeongguk's not having fun at Jimin's birthday party.
For one, Jimin's new boyfriend— Kim Namjoon— is kind of a tool. Tall, handsome, dark-haired, pretentious Kim Namjoon. Every word he said made Jeongguk feel like kind of a giant idiot. And a loser. And an idiot. In short, he feels picked apart and minced, brain going haywire from the German-translated-to-English book Kim Namjoon's quoting. What on earth is a Demian: Die Geschichte von Emil Sinclairs Jugend? Some type of fish? And what's with the remainder of Jimin's new friends? Who are all these people who make snide comments about his tattoos? Who side-eye his unruly hair? Who asked? Jeongguk's a second away from snapping right at them.
Instead, he grabs a bottle of OB from the fridge and sulks in the corner like a petulant, anti-social child.
"Are you having fun?" Jimin asks as he approaches him and Jeongguk's head snaps up to meet his eyes. Jimin has a smile on his face that's stretching all the way up to his eyes; Jeongguk's shoulders ease from the sight of it. Jimin's smile had that effect.
"Well," Jeongguk begins, hesitating, weighing his options. On one hand, he knows Jimin's the only one who would understand and sympathize. On the other, it's Jimin's birthday. It's Jimin's friends. It's Jimin's boyfriend. So, Jeongguk does what any childhood best friend of 14 years would, he lies. "Great!" he grins, he even raises his bottle of OB in cheers, fully committed to the bit. "The beer, your friends, your boyfriend, the eggless cake... all great!"
Jimin's eyes narrow— typical powers of a best friend of 14 years, Jeongguk can't fool him. "That's one too many greats, what's going on?"
Jeongguk sighs, fingernail scratching against the label of the beer bottle as he tends to do when he's jittery. "Not having a great enough time, hyung."
Jimin's entire face softens. He's like that. His eyes could narrow, his words could be sharp, his demeanor could be unnecessarily snappy but Jimin's existence is fueled by compassion. By empathy. His driving force is love.
"Hey," he says, hand reaching out to coat over Jeongguk's as he gently rubs his palm. It's cold, courtesy of the condensation of the beer bottle seeping into his skin but Jimin rubs it warm. "If you want to leave early and go watch anime, I'd get it. Okay? I mean, I wouldn't be happy but I'd get it."
Maybe the relief that washes over Jeongguk's face is too evident because Jimin cracks a small smile in his direction.
"Like a kid who's been given a school holiday," he snickers.
So, Jeongguk gives him a hug so hard that he manages to lift Jimin off his feet, waves goodbye (and hides an eye-roll) at Kim Namjoon, and closes Jimin's apartment door behind him.
The streets of Seoul at night are one of Jeongguk's favorite sights. It's teeming with life, effervescent with youth, illuminated with lights, people in motion— almost pathologically busy— Jeongguk has never felt more alive. The night air's a little crisp and Jeongguk's wearing a light jumper at best, something he pulls closer to his body in an attempt to warm himself. He rubs his arms, getting some blood circulation in the upper half when he passes by a slightly crowded bar. There's a half-drunken couple tumbling out of it, giggling, tipsy and young.
The bar's neon sign displays NPYJ and Jeongguk stares at it for a second, the couple's merged giggling ringing at the back of his head. He's all the way in Mapo-gu and commuting from here back to his place on the other side of Seoul would no doubt take him in an hour. Perhaps more. He looks back at the neon sign winking devilishly at him. Really, it felt like seduction...
One quick glass of whisky couldn't hurt, he decides resolutely. One drink. No more. No less.
He's nursing whisky in one of those bulbous-shaped glasses, lips pressing into the narrow rim when the background-noise, melodic music takes a sharp turn towards jazz.
The bartender, who's looking gauntly behind the bar counter, curses. "Taehyung," he grumbles, throwing his washcloth on the counter as he strides towards the speakers.
Jeongguk brings the glass up to his lips, allowing it to tip into his mouth, the movement almost lazy; he's not in any rush despite the lateness of the hour and allows his eyes to follow the bartender's, following the man's line of sight and he promptly freezes.
Jeongguk sees him. A guy standing right in front of the speakers, a red bandana wound tightly across his forehead, pelvis thrusting to the cacophonic sounds emanating from the speakers. Jeongguk watches, mouth slightly parted as this man mimics the actions of one playing of the saxophone, fingers thrumming in the air like he was pressing the buttons, head moving like he was blowing into the pipe. The way his body curves with the music... It's almost poetic, Jeongguk finds himself watching him with an undeterred fervor, eyes unable to peel away from the sight.
The man's brows are furrowed; dark, thick, well-maintained eyebrows, and Jeongguk can't quite see his eyes by the way the man has them squeezed shut, too lost in the sensation the music was making him feel. The motion almost attacking, almost inflected reckless by the music. The man's hands suddenly stop when the bartender approaches him and Jeongguk can't quite hear the exchange but the man's eyes open and Jeongguk almost stifles a gasp. His eyes really are so dark, so alive with emotion. He really took 300 inches of the sweat-stained, chipped-wood flooring and made it wholly his.
And then, the guy's head swivels in Jeongguk's direction, eyes meeting his, lashes blinking at him, mouth thinning. He's glaring, Jeongguk thinks, he's glaring at me.
Jeongguk's shoulders tense but the man merely shrugs at the bartender, rolling his eyes, grabbing something out of his pocket and he takes a sharp turn towards— what Jeongguk can only assume is the kitchen and he's out. Jeongguk watches after him, jaw still slightly unhinged and the music switches back into a love ballad by Jaurim. The spell seems to shatter and Jeongguk’s eyes blink open like he'd been pulled from slumber.
"Where did that man go?" he asks, voice sounding a little too desperate even to his ears.
The bartender narrows his eyes at him but answers nevertheless, sticking a thumb towards the back door. "Out back. If you want to smoke, there's the area to do it."
He thanks the man and asks him to add the drink to his tab, promises him he'd be back to pay, and heads out through the back door.
He's hit in the face by something pungent and immediately knows the man's not smoking cigarettes.
"You're not a cop, are you?" The man asks when Jeongguk coughs a little, getting accustomed to the smell of marijuana. The man raises the crumpled-looking joint up to his lips, inhaling through the filter, wisps of smoke billowing out of his nose ( That doesn't seem right, Jeongguk thinks) but the man holds whatever he inhaled for a second in his mouth before tipping his head back and exhaling it out. His lips circle into a small 'o' and Jeongguk, feeling a little bit too much like a pervert, watches the way his tongue snakes out and he licks his lips. The way his jaw grinds. There's a certain elegance with which he moves, the way he looks, the way he speaks, the way he takes a step; calculated, precise, masculine. He holds himself so tightly wound, with a certain panache, shoulders set back, eyebrows crinkled, eyes narrowed and trained on Jeongguk.
The man's beautiful, really.
"No," Jeongguk replies, throat parched. "Not a cop."
"Wanna share?" The man asks, inhaling again. He makes it look so effortless, tucking a hand into his pocket. There's a small smattering of hair over his lips that Jeongguk had failed to notice. It makes him look even more attractive if that was humanly possible. "I don't share so consider yourself lucky, gongjunim."
Jeongguk draws back immediately, clearly insulted. "Did you just fucking call me a princess?"
"You certainly are pretty like one," the man grins and fuck, Jeongguk's sure he's hard. Maybe. Whatever. "You were watching me," he observes, flicking the joint so the greying ash falls to the ground. "Find me pretty like a princess, too?" His tone is teasing.
"What if I did?"
"Careful, jagiya," the man says, eyeing him through the joint. "Statements like that get men beat up around here."
"I'll beat them back," Jeongguk squares his shoulders. Something about this man makes him feel young. Like he was a boy. Like he needed to prove something. He didn't exactly like it but the man's scrutiny was intoxicating. It made Jeongguk feel alive. "I'm strong."
The man suddenly steps close to him, so close that Jeongguk can see the mole on his waterline, the mole on the curve of his cheekbone, the mole on his lip. He flicks the joint and brings it up to his lips, inhaling quickly and short before blowing it right out into Jeongguk's face. Jeongguk tries not to cough, doesn't fully succeed. The man looks into his eyes and Jeongguk's positive he's sporting a semi and desperately hopes the man can't tell.
But instead, the man takes stock of his build, long fingers reaching out to grab his arm and squeezing it. Jeongguk looks back into him, subtly flexing, trying to read his eyes, unearth that expression. Nada.
Fucking poker face.
"You're a big boy," the man says and it sounds almost like a sigh. He straightens up, his movements are hazy and languid. "Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."
"Jeongguk," he responds automatically and his brain feels like whatever he'd passively inhaled was definitely affecting his judgment, clouding his senses. Beneath the pungent smell of marijuana, Jeongguk's sensitive nose can pick up something sweeter and he feels like he leans a little into it. "Jeon Jeongguk."
“Mm,” Taehyung hums a little, still tipping his head back as he exhales. The blunt is nearly done and Taehyung shifts his gaze to him; those dark eyes trained on Jeongguk in such close proximity do wonder to his heartrate. He hears it ring loudly against his ears. Taehyung’s eyes are intense. “Jeon Jeongguk,” he repeats as if tasting Jeongguk’s name in his mouth. His name rolled around in his tongue. Jeon-gguk. “Why were you staring at me, Jeongguk-ssi?”
“You were…” Jeongguk can’t quite explain. Taehyung has to know he’s the most interesting human being Jeongguk’s encountered. “Dancing. To jazz.”
“Jazz,” Taehyung smiles a little before he schools his expression back to one of cold indifference. It makes him more interesting, Jeongguk thinks and he’s moved to wonder what Taehyung would be like if he wasn’t controlling every action of his like this weighted reminder of who he is. Like he shouldn’t drop the act, shouldn’t show cracks in his facade. But that one little smile was enough, his movements to saxophone beats were enough.
Jeongguk knew two things about him now: his name was Kim Taehyung and he fucking enjoyed jazz.
“Yeah,” Jeongguk says. “What do you enjoy most about jazz, anyway?”
“Tell me,” Taehyung says instead, taking one last drag in before flicking the ashed bud to the side. “What music do you enjoy?”
This question felt like a test but Jeongguk’s always been honest, almost to a fault.
“Pop,” he admits. “Like the popular, feel-good, girl-group type preppy music. Why? Not good enough for you?”
“No,” Taehyung shakes his head and some of the looser locks frame his face. Fuck, he’s pretty. It’s genuinely maddening. “Music is music. I don’t understand the need to judge someone’s preferences. If it brings you happiness, it brings you happiness. That’s all.”
Jeongguk lets his words hang suspended in the air.
“I think it’s awfully stifling to think every personal interest of yours has to be approved by this giant nameless, shapeless crowd,” Taehyung continues when the silence persists for a beat too long. “Who the fuck cares, right?”
“Right,” Jeongguk nods. “I’m good at doing the girl group covers.”
Taehyung eyes his body, it’s almost a little predatory and Jeongguk feels like he might want to kiss him if Taehyung would be okay with that.
“You’d have to show me sometime,” Taehyung says.
Silence.
Somewhere in the corner of this still alleyway, there’s a drop that drips out from an open faucet and lands on a bucket of fully-filled water. It echoes loud or maybe Jeongguk’s just waiting with bated breath. Waiting for the next move.
“Why do you like jazz?” He repeats. It felt like a chess game and right now, he’d moved his rook all the way next to Taehyung’s king. A dangerous move. “What’s special about it for you?”
Taehyung gives him one of these impish grins. “Jazz,” he begins, sounding sagely. “Is a conversation. It speaks to you, if you’re willing to listen. It’s chaos but it’s organized, there are melodies, there are sounds and it might sound random if you’re not paying attention.”
“Jazz is breathtaking,” Tehyung continues and he takes a step closer to Jeongguk, hand on his waist. He squeezes... “Jazz makes me feel .”
Jeongguk inhales sharply. He’s definitely hard and he’s sure Kim Taehyung, an inch away from him, can tell.
Taehyung's lips curl. "How good are you at fucking, Jeon Jeongguk-ssi?"
Taehyung takes him to the bathroom which is a bit of a sad cliche. But, Jeongguk's hardly complaining when Taehyung turns around, shucking off his leather jacket and hanging it on the bathroom nail. He's wearing an oversized white shirt tucked into jeans. Like this, Jeongguk can see that the guy isn’t really as big as he’d looked with the jacket on. He’s broad but he’s lithe. Lean and thick in all the right places.
Taehyung’s bending forward, palms on the wall and angling his face backward so Jeongguk can see the slope of his nose and the bow of his lips.
“Fucking thick,” Jeongguk grunts, a little crass, hand reaching down to grope at Taehyung’s ass. It’s thick for a skinny guy, shapely, his spine curving prettily to accentuate the shape of it. For a man oozing so much unadulterated masculinity that it hangs in the air, he arches like a girl. “Should be calling you princess.”
“Don’t talk shit,” Taehyung mutters and he sounds cute when he’s annoyed. “Fucking touch me.”
“You got lube?” Jeongguk asks, his free hand reaching forward to pull Taehyung’s zipper down and fucking hell. The guy’s packed like a meat truck. Fat and thick everywhere it counted. Jeongguk almost yells Eureka! Eureka! Shit, he’ll believe in God, if he has to.
“What, you think I’m a fucking medical shop? Lube dispensary?” Taehyung snarks and Jeongguk squeezes at the base of his dick through his underwear harshly in retaliation and Taehyung gives another one of those sighs like he’s feeling good but doesn’t want to verbalize it more.
“How do you expect me to fuck you?”
Taehyung turns around completely and Jeongguk gets a good eyeful of his dick. Fuck, seriously. The man was packed. Thick, long, heavy. Just the sight of it proves the state of arousal Taehyung’s in and Jeongguk grins. Well, same.
“I’ll suck you off,” Taehyung says, licking his lips. He’s distracting sometimes, Taehyung is. Too pretty. “Suck you off until you almost cum but don’t,” Taehyung unbuckles his belt, eyes boring into his. “Cum inside my ass.”
“You’re… kidding.”
Taehyung looks at him again. “Do you think I am?”
“That’s going to hurt.”
Taehyung’s lips curve up into that mischievous little grin, eyes glittering underneath fluorescent bathroom lights that don’t do justice to Taehyung’s face. “I like it that way, big boy.”
The bandana that was wrapped around Taehyung’s forehead comes off. “Here,” he hands it over to Jeongguk before presenting his hands forward. “Tie me up.”
“You’re…” kidding , he wants to say but his silence echoes his words from earlier anyway. “Something else,” he settles with. He has a sinking feeling he’ll never fully recover from the experience Taehyung’s already presented him with and they haven’t even fucked yet.
“I get that a lot, princess,” Taehyung winks at him. Fucking Kim Taehyung. “I’m clean if you’re wondering,” his eyes are enquiring as he says this and Jeongguk realizes he’s waiting for Jeongguk to answer.
“Got tested three months ago,” he says, honest. “Clean. Haven’t been with anybody since.”
“Their loss,” Taehyung comments off-handedly as he hands Jeongguk his bandana.
Jeongguk makes quick work of knotting the bandana around Taehyung’s skinny wrists, something Jeongguk doesn’t waste time marveling at (though he wants to) before Taehyung’s sinking to his knees, hand bracing on either side of Jeongguk’s thick thighs.
Taehyung pulls his underwear down and Jeongguk’s cock jumps out at him and it’s a little embarrassing how it twitches underneath Taehyung’s stare.
He’s almost about to say ‘fucking do something’ when Taehyung leans forward and runs his tongue along the prominent vein along Jeongguk’s length. He follows the path of the vein, mouthing at it, and Jeongguk groans, burying his hand into Taehyung’s dark hair. It’s curled ‘round the edges like he’d gotten them permed once and Jeongguk’s once again struck by how handsome Taehyung is. How’s this allowed?
Taehyung’s suckling his balls and Jeongguk’s sensitive as shit there, fingers tightening around Taehyung’s hair as he groans. Hips stuttering, he bucks up a little and Taehyung holds him down back with his hands pressed against his thigh. Jeongguk thinks Taehyung will tease him longer but it seemed like he was impatient as well because he sucks at the tip, tonguing at the slit, swirling his tongue around the skin of his cockhead so it peeks out of his foreskin.
"Here comes the blushing bride," Taehyung teases, licking at his pink cockhead. Impish son of a bitch , Jeongguk almost rolls his eyes but he ends up groaning instead, pulling Taehyung's hair reflexively. It must hurt the way he pulls but Taehyung moans around his cock and Jeongguk can feel the warmth of his mouth all around his dick, can feel the sound of it against the length of it. Shit, he thinks he can spout poetry now. Beat Kim Namjoon at being pretentious. He thinks he can be pretentious about Kim Taehyung's lips, his mouth, his dick-sucking skills.
Jeongguk pulls at his hair again because Taehyung's mouth's all around his dick, so far down that he's nosing at the wispy pubic hair at the base of his cock. Taehyung's hands are tied and they twitch, like they want to touch himself and fuck, that's hot . Jeongguk nudges his boot against Taehyung's bulge, giving it some friction, and Taehyung humps against it. Those hips moving desperately like he's aching to have his dick touched.
"Please," Taehyung says and Jeongguk finally realizes he's been pulling at his hair a bit too hard and there are tears around his eyes. Holy shit. He draws back immediately. "No, no," Taehyung shakes his head, nuzzling against his cock. A little off-balance with his hands tied. "Pull harder." He looks up at Jeongguk, wet lashes blinking up at him.
"Fuck, get up," Jeongguk groans out. “Get up, I’m going to cum.”
Taehyung’s hasty, a little shaky on his feet so Jeongguk helps him pull his black briefs down, barely having time to marvel at the globes of his ass before he’s spreading them open with his left hand and aiming his dick right into Taehyung’s hole.
Taehyung moans and it’s such a contrast to his deeper voice, almost a whine.
“Fuck,” Jeongguk exhales as he cums. Ropes of cum landing directly inside Taehyung’s hole and usually, he needs a few minutes to recover, maybe a swig of an energy drink to get his ol’ noodle straightening out but the sight of Taehyung’s finger pressing into his hole, opening up his ass right in front of Jeongguk’s eyes is too much. Gets his dick chubbing right up.
“How am I going to get over you?” he mutters, hand reaching out to grope shamelessly at the fat of Taehyung’s ass. He rubs Taehyung’s taint, massages it to ease up the muscles of his ass. Wants Taehyung at least a little bit more comfortable.
Taehyung turns to him, teardrops caught on his lashes and he looks like a meal, a dream, a prayer. Jeongguk’s barely here on earth. “You don’t have to,” Taehyung says and that sounds promising enough. Jeongguk’s going to hold him to that, he’ll fuck it into him for all he cares.
Jeongguk helps, joins his own finger alongside Taehyung’s. It’s a bit of a tight fit, he’s got thicker ones and Taehyung bites his lip, and shit, really, that tiny beginning of a mustache shouldn’t make him look this attractive.
“You really are a piece, you know?” Jeongguk says as he watches Taehyung squeeze his eyes in concentration as he adds another finger in, pumping them out in reckless abandon.
“So are you, Jeongguk-ssi.” It’s an odd, misplaced tender moment that was trapped in the confines of a men’s bathroom stall of a nearly empty bar, that was crooning out indie songs from a beat-up old speaker. “Really. Your eyes… they’re so—”
The rest of his sentence gets swallowed up by a moan. Right, yeah, Jeongguk’s fingering him.
“Is that it?” He asks as he presses again and he feels it this time. The slightly squishy, fleshy, firm part. He nudges against it and Taehyung arches, fingers slipping out and bracing himself against the wall. He pants a little, heaving.
“I think I’m ready,” he says and he sounds desperate, voice rough. Debauched. He sounded sinful, illegal. “Fuck me, Jeonggukkie. Make it fucking hurt.”
The pet name, really —
Jeongguk slips his own finger out, hastily wiping the cum-stained tip on his shirt ( gross, he’ll think about it later) as his hand steadies himself on Taehyung’s hip. His fingers dig into the skin as he positions his dick, gets it in place, spreading open the other’s ass to push it in and bottom out. It takes a minute, Taehyung’s tight. Too tight.
“Relax yourself, Taehyung-ssi,” he urges, hand reaching out to rub soothingly at Taehyung’s taint. The other jumps at the sensation of his thumb circling slowly in the area between his balls and his rim. But, he visibly relaxes as Jeongguk keeps continuing his ministrations. He’s only a quarter way in. Once he’s fully seated into the warm, delicious tightness of Taehyung’s ass, he allows both of them the chance to take a well-needed inhale.
And then, he exhales.
It felt an awful lot like that joint Taehyung was smoking but this was more intoxicating, more real, clouded his senses better because with that exhale, he draws his hips back and pushes it all in.
“Shit, you feel good,” Jeongguk says as if that’s a big fucking surprise. He’s about to start a religion. “You’re tight as hell, Taehyung-ssi.”
“Be— be informal with me,” Taehyung grunts, keening softly. “Call me baby. Call me Taehyungie— anh. Ca-call me Taetae.”
“Taetae?” Jeongguk’s amused. “Who knew Mr. Tough Guy is so soft underneath?” He reaches forward to tuck a curled strand— wet at the tip, thanks to the sweat— behind his ear. He pulls Taehyung’s face towards him, hand on his chin. “Taetae baby."
Taehyung’s eyes squeeze shut and he heaves, panting slightly and Jeongguk angles his hips, nails digging into the fleshy curve of his hips as he thrusts. Taehyung’s still tight, not nearly loosened enough and Jeongguk’s dick feels squeezed in, locked and loaded.
“Nuhn,” Taehyung mumbles, hand reaching out to hold Jeongguk’s, fingers draping over Jeongguk’s, eyes trained on Jeongguk’s. “Y-yuh’re so th-thick.”
“Yeah?” Jeongguk grins fucks up into him for that and Taehyung rewards him with a strangled gasp. “Loving the compliments, Taehyungie, keep ‘em coming.”
“Yuh-youh’re so sexy,” Taehyung’s eyes are dark and wet, lashes blinking rapidly, pink lips stretched open. Shit, Jeongguk’s fucking close. “And so— so pretty,” Taehyung sighs it out and Jeongguk thrusts harsher, tries to make it hurt, wants to fuck Taehyung the way Taehyung wants to be fucked. “You’re so pretty, your eyes —”
Jeongguk curses and he grasps Taehyung’s hips too hard, leaving crescent-shaped indents into his thighs and he doesn’t have enough time to shoot Taehyung a warning before cumming all the way inside Taehyung.
Jeongguk wheezes but Taehyung, fucking Kim Taehyung fucks back into his half-hard cock and Jeongguk, overstimulated and sensitive, can do nothing else but grab his hips weakly as the other fucks himself on Jeongguk’s dick.
The tryst doesn’t last long, Taehyung’s all spent in two thrusts.
It’s a beat of silence before Jeongguk pulls out, wincing a little as he tucks his cock back into his foreskin. His cockhead looked an angry red as if protesting that this was a little too hot for it and Jeongguk scolds his dick internally. Be cool, damn.
Taehyung suddenly turns to him and Jeongguk’s a little startled when his head rests against his shoulder, his hands resting on either side of Jeongguk’s waist as he inhales against Jeongguk’s neck.
“Sleep-ie,” he mumbles tiredly. “Taetae sleepy.”
Was that fucking aegyo? Jeongguk needs to cuff this guy to him and never let go.
“Taehyung-ssi,” he starts and then amends: “Baby, let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll go back to one of our places and sleep it off. Yeah?”
“Mm,” Taehyung nods and then, pulls away, composing himself and Jeongguk already misses him pressed against him like that. He hovers over the toilet seat, brows furrowed, wincing slightly as he sprays the health faucet against his hole and it’s a little sloppy, he’s not fully cleaned out but Jeongguk helps him clean up, pulling out stray bits of toilet paper stuck to his asscheek.
“Fuckin’ messy,” Taehyung grumbles, “If only I didn’t have a kink for cum in my ass, I’d say it’s not worth the effort.”
Jeongguk snorts. “Look at me cleaning up your ass like I’m your handmaiden.”
“We’re both 50/50 to blame, Jeongguk-ssi,” Taehyung mutters as he pulls up his pants after tucking his softened cock into his underwear. “Get a cab, I’ll settle your bill.”
“Where are we going?”
“My home,” Taehyung smiles at him and at least, he doesn’t switch his expression back to something else. Lets the smile stay longer so Jeongguk can photograph it in his mind. “It’s close by. Near Mapo-gu.”
“Fuck, thank god. I live on the other side of Seoul.”
They part, briefly, to take care of their tasks and meet back at the entrance. Taehyung opens the cab door for him and Jeongguk pretends to swoon. Inside the cab, Taehyung rests his head against Jeongguk’s shoulder and Jeongguk, always one to fall so easily, snakes his fingers into Taehyung’s.
He doesn’t push them away. If anything, Taehyung’s fingers curl tighter into his.
Morning comes but the shame doesn’t.
Taehyung regards him with one of his hard-to-read expressions before he smiles a little lopsided grin. “You know,” he says, leaning in. “I never told you why you intrigued me.”
“Your eyes,” Taehyung says and taps Jeongguk’s sleep-swollen eyelid. The latter protests, Taehyung continues, ignoring him— “They’re so open, so honest, so expressive. I feel like I could see myself in them,” Taehyung looks away, pink-cheeked as if embarrassed. “It made me feel.”
“Just like jazz?”
“Mmhm.”
Jeongguk kisses him. Taehyung tastes like shit, clearly in need of a 10-minute session with his toothbrush but still, Jeongguk reckons it's one of the best kisses of his life.