Chapter Text
“To wrap this up, I just wanted to ask you all one last question.” Kim Chaewon clears her throat before she continues, pulling her mic a little further up the collar of her shirt. “As artists yourselves, how do you hope to inspire the next generation? And how can the next generation continue a healthy cycle of bringing up more artists, rather than discouraging them the way society often has?”
In the crowd, as the four artists on stage glance at each other to see who might want to answer first, Park Jimin leans forward in his seat. His pencil drops to his notebook, and he listens.
It’s Lee Hana that speaks up first. She sits up straighter and flings her dark ponytail over her shoulder, legs crossed before she glances out at the crowd.
“There are the obvious answers, of course. Encouraging imagination in our younger generations, giving them room to explore their creativity instead of drowning it out with so many other things to learn. Of course learning is important, but I really think that artistry has been placed in this box of being a hobby in the eyes of most of society, rather than a skill as necessary as math or the sciences,” she says. “But it’s been proven time and time again how beneficial art can be to anyone who engages in it. It can help people cope with depression, anxiety, and stress. It’s also linked to improved memory and reasoning.”
She takes a pause and breathes.
“I think it’s important to start changing the way we view art,” she says, “and make it more accessible to people by recognizing its value, rather than setting it aside as a frivolous hobby or an option only for those who can afford to set aside the time to take part in it. It is important. And even though it can be a hobby, I think it’s dangerous to label it as only a hobby. Even if you’re not pursuing it as a career and you do just dabble in it as a hobby, I have news for you, you’re an artist. Whatever art form you choose, you’re an artist the second you pick up a brush and paint, or grab a pencil to draw, or when you dance or write or make music. I think it’s important for us all to remember that.
You’re an artist because you chose to create. You don’t become an artist over time when you feel like you’re ‘good enough’ or that you made it. You already are one. I used to think it was a title I hadn’t earned because I wasn’t at the same level as my peers or I wasn’t making a profit yet or my art wasn’t being seen in galleries. It took me years to realize I had been an artist that whole time, before my art was ever displayed to anyone. So I think that’s a good way to encourage people and for us to build ourselves back up when we feel that we’re not good enough.”
She looks out at the crowd again, a smile on her face, a little sheepish like she spoke for longer than she meant.
“There’s an artist inside of everyone,” she says, then gestures at her peers on the stage. “My apologies. I got carried away.”
Jimin feels a slight weight lift from his shoulders, even though he knows it will come crashing back down on him soon enough. It’s a nice reminder not to judge himself so harshly. And he had never thought of it this way—there is no true milestone to reach before you can call yourself an artist. Otherwise, how would anyone ever know if they qualify? Everyone would have their own standards. It would be impossible.
As the panel ends and the room begins to clear out, Jimin hops to his feet and heads for the stage. Chaewon brightens as soon as she sees him, waving him over.
“Hana-ssi,” she says as she guides Jimin forward, hand hovering on his back. “This is the student I told you about, Park Jimin, who has been working as my teaching assistant for the past year.”
“Ah, Jimin-ssi,” Hana says with a bow, which he returns. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re the one Chaewon-ssi is vouching for to paint the mural in the new art building.”
Jimin feels himself flush red immediately, but Chaewon looks proud. She has been his greatest supporter since he started his graduate program and especially once he began working with her. Sometimes he thinks she has more faith in him than she should.
More faith than he has in himself, at least.
“I just wanted you two to meet,” Chaewon says. “Hana-ssi has a very similar upbringing to you and very similar philosophies about art as you.”
She doesn’t say it, but Jimin understands the implications: If she can make it, so can you.
“Chaewon-ssi hasn’t told me the details,” Lee Hana says, “because that’s your story, but if it’s similar to my story, then that’s all I need to know. I have to say that I have seen your art.”
Jimin feels like he might pass out. Lee Hana is a hero to every student at Korea National University of Arts—an alumna who came from nothing, raised herself as her parents worked themselves to the bone to support their family, earned her own way through school, and crafted a statue so beautiful it still sits outside one of the university cafés to this day.
Jimin looks at it everyday as a reminder that he can do this too. He hopes.
“You have something special,” Hana says, her smile kind and genuine. “I understand how it feels to think that there is no space in this world for you as an artist. I can assure you, there are thousands of people who will flock to you for your art. You just have to believe in yourself and put yourself out there. I hope some of what I said in the panel today stays with you. I would hate to see someone with your promise lose sight of the future they want.”
“Thank you,” Jimin says breathlessly, bowing deeply to her. To others, it may not seem like much, but to think she’s liked even one of his pieces is enough to drive him forward. To hear that she doesn’t want him to give up means even more.
She truly believes he has something to add to this world with his art. He wishes he could believe the same just as easily.
“I’ll continue to work hard,” he says as he straightens up, then bows to Chaewon. “Thank you.”
Chaewon smiles, face scrunching up happily. “Of course. I’ll see you in class on Monday?”
“Right,” Jimin says as he snaps out of his trance. “Monday— Class. Of course. I’ll see you then.” With another thank you to them both, Jimin excuses himself and rushes out of the auditorium, following the mostly dispersed crowd out.
He bounces as he walks, a pep to his step that he hasn’t had in awhile, weighed down and exhausted by his graduate program. Most of his time is spent studying, working, eating, and sleeping, and that’s it.
Well, and fucking. When he has time.
He has to release his stress somehow.
At their usual spot in the courtyard, Jung Jangmi waits for him, waving him down. Her head cocks playfully, hair bobbing around her chin. As usual, she’s dressed to the nines, unapologetically flaunting her status as a fashion student.
“You look happy. Are live panel discussions really that fun?” she asks.
“Sometimes,” says Jimin as he slides onto the bench on the other side of the table from her. “They can be really encouraging and informative. You should try one sometime.”
Jangmi hums as she scrolls through her phone. “No thanks,” she says. “I can barely stay awake in class.”
Jimin snorts and grabs his phone too, reminded that he hasn’t checked his Afterglow messages yet. He had downloaded the app about six months ago when he got tired of floating around bars in Itaewon to pick someone up for the night. Granted, the app is hit or miss, but it is a little simpler to find someone this way, as busy as he is these days.
“Your motivation is admirable, Jiminie,” Jangmi says, and then slides a cup of boba tea over to him. “But I plan to make the world work for me, rather than the other way around. All this workaholic stuff kind of makes me throw up in my mouth a little.”
Jimin snorts a bit as he stabs a straw into his drink. “With your brain, someday you’ll be dictator of the whole world and then you won’t have to worry about anything.”
“I hope so,” says Jangmi as she sets her phone face down. “First order of business, I take priority over all other friends.”
Jimin grins around a mouthful of his drink. He swallows and leans on the table. “Hey, Taehyung and Namjoon asked me to help them this weekend way before you wanted to make any plans. And you’re the one ditching me tomorrow. If you weren’t, we could hang out before I go see them.”
With a sigh, Jangmi dramatically flips her hair. “Fine, fine. Have it your way.” But she smiles, that toothy and playful grin she always has. It’s so common for people to assume she’s being disrespectful with the way she talks to Jimin, but they don’t understand that an elbow to the ribs is the way she shows love, and Jimin speaks her language fluently by now.
“One of the guys” is what Taehyung always calls her.
And with Jimin, he prefers that she remain as casual and as informal as possible. Since the day they met, they clicked so well that they immediately fell into being best friends. It’s been just over a year but they’re practically inseparable now.
Not to mention, she’s seen him naked more than most people, probably. With the on and off dating they did between being friends, he can’t imagine her treating him like some acquaintance or being formal anymore.
As she flips through the pages of her textbook, mouth in a pout, Jimin snatches his phone to finally look through his messages.
Once he and Jangmi had finally decided they were better off as friends, Jimin had begun exploring his sexuality a little further. Since his first year in university, he had been curious and has since come to a solid conclusion on his bisexuality.
All it took was sucking one dick in a nightclub bathroom and he knew. After that, he and Jangmi only fooled around occasionally when things got desperate.
“You don’t have classes on Monday, right?” Jangmi asks, nudging Jimin when she realizes he’s distracted. “Jimin-ah?” Her voice pitches up the way it always does when she wants his attention. “Are you on that app again?”
Jimin hums and looks up at her. “I have to find someone to hang out with since you’re ditching me tomorrow.”
“‘Hang out’,” Jangmi says with a half smirk, her eyes rolling. “Just say you’re looking for a hookup to fill the space I left in your heart.” Her grin grows when Jimin kicks her under the table. “I told you I have to be at my dad’s birthday tomorrow. I’ll be free from the family on Monday.”
“Fine, have fun hanging out with a bunch of boring old folks,” Jimin teases as she hops up to gather her things. “But I have work on Monday. And then I’m volunteering in the studios after hours.”
“Ew, why do you work so much?” Jangmi asks as she begins packing her bag, papers scattered everywhere. Jimin leans over to help her.
“I don’t want to give them any reason not to choose me for that mural,” he says. “I worked my ass off since I started here. I just have to keep it up a little longer. I’ve been a top student, put in extra hours, I have the skill for it, the best grades, and so far I’ve remained well-respected.”
“So far,” Jangmi repeats with a giggle. “You sound like you’re expecting someone to suddenly post an expose video about you and spill all your darkest secrets.”
“Never know these days. Did you hear about that kid who hacked his rival’s accounts to expose all his furry fanart of his own peers just to get him expelled?”
Jangmi freezes, notebook halfway in her bag, and eyes him suspiciously. When he doesn’t flinch, she asks, “Wait, seriously?”
“Nope, but I wish because that would be hilarious,” Jimin says as she reaches for a stack of papers in his hand. She grabs them and bops him on the head with them before stowing them away.
“Keep that up and it’ll be me exposing you.”
“Sorry, Mommy,” he says, and she pretends to gag.
“I’ll text you and we can hang out sometime when you’re not torturing yourself just to help some kids draw nude models.”
Jimin rests his chin on his hands, fingers laced together. “You say that like it sucks to be around nude people all day.”
“Creep,” Jangmi jokes as she hitches her bag onto her shoulder and Jimin pouts at her. “I’m kidding, I know you’re very respectful of your models. Except that one.”
“Hey, he wanted to be disrespected,” says Jimin as he points an accusatory finger at her. “He asked politely and I delivered.”
“Okay, I really gotta go. My professor will be up my ass if I walk in late again.” Jangmi cocks her hip out and winks, blowing a kiss at Jimin. “Text you later, oppa—”
“No,” he says, pointing a dangerous finger at her again. “Begone.”
She runs off, cackling, and Jimin rolls his eyes at her. Once he’s left alone at the table, he turns his attention back to his tea and his phone.
Jimin’s chin comes to rest on his palm as he abandons his messages—there are no offers that are irresistible enough to respond to—and begins thumbing through profiles on Afterglow instead. It’s just one basic university boy after another staring up at him. The same guys everyday.
Not literally, but they might as well be. Every guy Jimin has hooked up with lately has sort of blurred together. A few of the guys he scrolls past are ones he’s pretty sure he has already fucked before.
Clearly they weren’t worth remembering.
It’s not that there’s anything wrong with them, but they just don’t give him what he needs. At this point, he’s not even sure what he needs. Being with Jangmi wasn’t working and it never was going to, but hooking up clearly isn’t fulfilling him anymore either.
Maybe he needs a different app.
Jimin is just about to exit out of Afterglow when a little red bubble appears on his message tab. He taps it and then, without reading the message first, goes to the sender’s profile. No name, just the initials JK and a profile picture of a guy leaning on the railing of a balcony, clearly in some other tropical country. His shirt is unbuttoned and hanging loose in the breeze to show off a fit body, his pants tight enough to let Jimin know what he’s packing.
With his lips pursed to hide a wicked smile, Jimin goes back to the message after a glance at the sender’s proximity. Clearly someone who is also on campus, so the first message isn’t too concerning.
JK:
Didn’t I just see you at that live panel?
JIMIN:
Idk?? All I see now are tiddies and the outline of your dick
And you didn’t show me those at the panel :((
JK:
Lol I was basically sitting right behind you
JIMIN:
Oh that’s why I didn’t see you
I don’t look behind me unless someone’s doing me doggy style
JK:
You’re very confident to come on that strong
JIMIN:
You have a faceless pfp showing off your body
and made it very obvious that your cock is massive
You’re looking for someone who comes on strong.
JK:
Maybe I am
JIMIN:
You also basically approached me with a classic horror movie “I see you”
So who’s really the one who’s coming on strong?? ;)
JK:
It got your attention though, didn’t it?
JIMIN:
Is that what you wanted in the panel? My attention?
Yeah, you got it now. Especially with that picture.
JK:
Works every time ;)
JIMIN:
So is this where you say some cheesy pickup line so you can get into my pants?
JK:
Would you like to get drinks together?
JIMIN:
Oh, the straightforward type. Sure, why not?
JK:
Alright, just so I know what to order for us…
Do you prefer Blowjobs, Sex on the Beach, or Between the Sheets?
JIMIN:
All of the above
I like you already ;)
Are you free tonight?
JK:
I am. There’s a cocktail lounge nearby that I like
I’ll send you the address
Meet at 9?
JIMIN:
Sure thing
See you then ;)
JK:
Wait
You looked at my profile, right?
Jimin pauses, brows furrowing at his screen. He clicks over to JK’s profile and scans over all the information as quickly as he can, not wanting to keep this guy waiting. Whoever he is, his body is to die for and he seems to have a decent sense of humor.
He certainly seems interested in railing Jimin into oblivion, but maybe he’s reading this all wrong. God, please don’t let this be another guy that insists Jimin fuck him instead. He never gets to lie back and let someone else do the job anymore. He was getting so worked up just talking to JK, his hopes high, that his pants already feel a little tighter.
He skims JK’s interests, taking note of a few to ask him about tonight, then scrolls to his preferences. A sigh of relief rushes from him like a gust of wind.
Vers top.
Jimin has to resist the urge to punch the air in victory. This guy better not turn out to be a fucking creep, because Jimin is getting desperate. He refuses to give up on his dream of being fucked so hard he leaves his imprint on the mattress. Maybe changing his preferences from vers to vers bottom for a bit worked after all.
His finger hovers over the screen as he reads and, finally, he finds what JK might be concerned about. His age. 35+.
Without any further sleuthing, Jimin goes back to his messages.
JIMIN:
Just double checked everything
Seems perfect to me :)
JK:
Okay.
You’re young so I had to be sure.
JIMIN:
Has that been an issue before?
JK:
Couple times
JIMIN:
Their loss
More years, more experience.
Now I get to hoard all of that for myself ;)
Pics on my profile should keep you entertained until you actually get your hands on me.
See you at 9.
The address comes through a few minutes after Jimin finishes up their little conversation. Shortly after agreeing to meet up, however, “JK” lets him know he has to go and stops replying. Jimin just hopes that he doesn’t get a) stood up or b) murdered tonight.
He tries not to dwell on that on his way home to get ready. Jimin hasn’t had a really good hookup in so long and no one who has left him fully satisfied. One thing he learned quickly upon getting into the hookup scene with other guys is that letting them know you’re bisexual comes with a stereotype that you’re there to do all the railing. What’s so hard to believe about a bi dude wanting to be railed?
It’s not that Jimin minds. As long as he comes, he’s happy with it, and he does have fun, but sometimes he just wants something different. And the guys who have topped him have never given him what he wants.
He hates admitting it. It feels embarrassing, having been so independent for so long, to say these kinds of things out loud, but he had once fessed up to Taehyung while drunk that sometimes he just wants to be taken care of.
He would give anything to have a man take charge and fuck him stupid until they’re both satisfied, and then to maybe be held afterward. The expectation always falls on Jimin to take control, though, simply because he’s the straightforward one, he has the loud and bold personality, he’s always the one who knows what to do and what someone wants.
Sometimes he really wishes he could shut his mind off and leave his fate in the hands of someone else, let them surprise him.
And maybe he wouldn’t mind something with a little more meaning too. Everything he’s had so far has felt so clinical. Not bad hookups, but formulaic and forgettable. They meet, they fuck, maybe they talk for a few minutes or get off one more time, and then they go their separate ways.
Unfortunately, by the time he had admitted all of this, Taehyung had finally settled down with his long-term, on-and-off partner, Namjoon, and was no longer able (although still willing) to make Jimin’s dreams come true.
These days, Jimin doesn’t get his hopes up too much, but this JK seems experienced and confident and hot, and he acts like he’s more than ready to jump into bed with Jimin already. All that’s left now is to make sure he isn’t some unhinged freak.
Jimin has researched the cocktail lounge they will be meeting at thoroughly just to make sure it isn’t sketchy and that the staff has a good reputation. That way if he needs to dip, he might be able to ask for some help in getting out unscathed.
He picks one of his best outfits, hits the shower, preps himself, and brushes his teeth before he gets dressed and watches the clock tick closer to 9 P.M. He doesn’t want to show up too early or he’ll seem desperate, but he doesn’t want to wait too long or this guy might give up on him.
The front door of his apartment crashes open, giggles filling the room and a quiet “oops” in Taehyung’s voice following. Jimin bounces off his bed and leans in the doorway to his room, arms crossed,. He watches his roommate meander in, arm looped around Namjoon’s neck.
Not drunk, but definitely high.
“Ooh, someone looks fancy tonight!” Taehyung says. He winks and points as Namjoon laughs along with him. “Who are you fucking this time?”
Jimin snorts, eyes rolling as Taehyung struggles to take his jacket off, seemingly incapable of gauging exactly where to grip the sleeve. Jimin steps forward to help him.
“Hopefully I’ll be the one getting obliterated tonight, actually,” he says as he tosses Taehyung’s jacket over his head. “Found some hot, older guy who’s hopefully willing to bend me over for once.”
Taehyung tugs his jacket down to grin at Jimin, mouth dropping wide open. “Jiminie, Jiminie, I’m so proud of you,” he says, wiggling one finger closer and closer to Jimin before he pokes his chest. “And here I was just about to ask Namjoon if he’d be willing to fuck you in a threesome.”
“What?” Namjoon starts, but Taehyung immediately silences him with a finger to his lips, pulling Namjoon into a side-hug again.
“I’m kidding, babe,” he says, then arches a brow at him. “Unless—”
“Okay, enough out of you,” Jimin says, grabbing his friend and spinning him around as he laughs. He pushes Taehyung forward. “You go sleep off the entire fucking bowl you probably smoked tonight and I’ll go get laid. I’ll text you the address of where we’re meeting in case he’s a murderer.”
“Tell us all about it afterward,” Taehyung says as Jimin makes his way back to his room.
“Spare us the details, though,” Namjoon says as he wraps Taehyung up in his arms from behind, pulling Taehyung against his chest. Taehyung reaches back to cover Namjoon’s mouth, eyes drooping, a lazy grin on his face.
“Don’t listen to him. Tell us all the details. All the dirty, dirty details—” he says, eyes flashing wide and maniacal before Namjoon drags him off, head shaking in disbelief.
Jimin has to stifle his laughter as he rushes back to his phone, the device dinging to let him know he has a new message. He snatches it up and eagerly thumbs his way over to Afterglow.
JK:
I’ll be there in about 30 minutes.
If you’re still up for it?
JIMIN:
I’ll be up in more ways than one once we meet
That’s a yes
See you soon~
With one last check in the mirror, Jimin tugs his jacket collar up and fluffs his hair up, a few well-calculated strands hanging in his eyes. He turns this way and that, his oversized jacket hanging over his palms just enough, grey jeans cinched with a chunky belt. He turns to make sure his ass looks good in them before heading for the door and tugging his boots on.
His phone is fully charged, wallet in his pocket, ass fully prepped in hopes of this JK destroying him tonight. He’ll put his best foot forward, ready and willing to do anything to get what he wants this time.
Jimin texts Taehyung and Namjoon the address of the cocktail lounge once he’s in his taxi and well on his way. Not that they’ll be helpful at all, as stoned as they are, so he also texts Jangmi, then looks out the car window with his heart thudding intensely. He has no idea why he’s nervous. He’s done this a million times, but a little part of him has to wonder if he’s about to get in over his head.
This guy is older and probably a lot more experienced, probably a grown-ass, responsible adult, while Jimin still stays up playing mobile games until 4 A.M. and then wakes up two hours later for classes, sometimes forgets breakfast, and forgot his own birthdate when asked the other day.
Sometimes he feels like he’s got his shit together, other times he feels like he’s a hot mess.
He doesn’t know why he’s even worrying about this. This is just going to be one night, a good hookup. Jimin doesn’t need to know anything except how to fuck, most likely.
Jimin checks his reflection in his phone as they pull up to the cocktail lounge, thanks the driver, and hops out with one more deep inhale. On his phone sits a message from JK, telling him that he’s already here and waiting inside at the bar. Jimin sends back a message that he’s arrived just as he steps inside, and he looks for someone checking their phone as he does.
The lounge is a swanky little place with low, reddish lighting, a backlit bar, and a number of funky modern art pieces on the walls. Pop music plays loudly over the speakers and a good amount of patrons sit at the tables or play pool.
It takes no time at all for him to find a man on one of the barstools, the high collar of his Harrington jacket curving around a strong yet delicate neck. Jimin drags his eyes over the man’s back, over his dark jeans and the wingtip boots beneath them, one braced on the stool and the other tapping absentmindedly against the bar counter.
Jimin shakes out his nerves and stands up straighter before he approaches, clearing his throat slightly. The man—JK, whatever his actual name is—turns around, his surprisingly large doe eyes lighting up when he sees Jimin. As soon as he smiles, Jimin thinks he might collapse.
“Wow, you’re even prettier in person,” he says, and that really does make Jimin want to faint.
He feels himself smiling before he can stop it. “Well, I wanted to compliment you too, but I’m gonna need a name first. It’s not fair you got mine off the app and I’m still in the dark.”
“Oh, right,” the guy says as he pulls a stool out for Jimin, who plops onto it immediately. “Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”
“Jeon Jungkook,” Jimin repeats, testing how it sounds on his tongue. He can see Jungkook’s eyes already exploring him, and Jimin glances back to make sure the bartender isn’t close enough to hear him. “That’s a good name for me to scream tonight.”
There’s a moment where Jungkook almost seems flustered, then he laughs and cocks his head playfully. “I’ll make sure you get the chance to test that theory, Jimin-ah.” His smirk lingers on Jimin a little longer before the bartender approaches and Jungkook leans a little closer to order himself a whiskey sour before he looks at Jimin.
“Oh, watermelon soju,” Jimin says with a little click of his tongue and a grin at the bartender. “Thank you.” When he leaves to make the drink and Jungkook sits back, Jimin shrugs. “I’m fruity in more ways than one, I guess.”
Jungkook’s head drops as he laughs, and then he turns sideways on the stool to face Jimin. “Maybe I’ll be a little more adventurous if we have another drink,” he says. “Whiskey sour is my default. I gotta branch out eventually, though.”
“Oh, good. You’re already planning on sticking around,” says Jimin, and Jungkook gazes at him. He looks like he can’t get enough.
Jimin has been flattered a number of times in his life, but to have the attention of a man like this so undivided. That’s beyond anything he’s ever had before. This is already a dream.
“I’d be stupid not to,” Jungkook says. “So, tell me about yourself, Jimin. What are you at K-ARTS for? I mean, art, I would guess, but what specifically?”
“A Master of Fine Arts,” Jimin rattles off like a habit. He’s said it so many times now. “I’ll be graduating at the end of February next year.”
“Oh, congratulations,” Jungkook says with a smile that Jimin can only describe as impressed. As if Jimin is doing anything special by studying just like everyone else. Sure, he’s the top of his class, but he tries not to get too big of a head about it. “Any plans once you graduate?”
Jimin twists his mouth into a grin, flipping his hair out of his eyes. “Praying to every deity imaginable that someone out there wants to hire an overachieving, obsessive perfectionist who simultaneously has imposter syndrome and a god complex.”
“Welcome to the club,” Jungkook says. “We’re very hire-able people, in my humble opinion.”
Dropping his chin onto his hand, Jimin takes a moment to admire the way Jungkook smiles, lips pulling slightly to the side, lower lip just a little more pouty than the top, a slight narrowing of his eyes when he looks at Jimin, like he’s both amused and curious about him, trying to understand him. “What about you? Just there for that panel?”
“Pretty much,” Jungkook says as the bartender brings their drinks and he thanks him. He slides Jimin’s drink over to him. “Art is a little… past passion of mine. I don’t dabble as much as I used to, but I was curious about that panel when I heard about it.”
Jimin twists around to take a sip of his drink, then turns back to Jungkook, eyes narrowing in curiosity. “How did you hear about it?”
“Word of mouth. There are a lot of artists at my workplace.”
“So you’re not a student there.”
“Nope, but I am at SNU for a PhD right now,” Jungkook says, then he too takes a drink. As his glass clunks on the counter, his eyes once again drift over Jimin and his bare collarbone.
“Wait, how old are you exactly?”
Jungkook purses his lips as though to hold in a laugh. “Turning 40 soon.”
Jimin’s eyes widen at that and he leans back as if the mere shock of that almost knocks him off his seat.
“Oh, come on, you don’t have to react like that,” Jungkook says, but he still laughs. At least he doesn’t seem offended, but Jimin still scrambles.
“No, it’s just— Wow. You don’t look anywhere close to 40,” he says, then takes a deep breath and shakes his head at himself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to seem judgmental. I don’t know why I forgot for a second that 40 isn’t exactly a surprising age for a PhD student.”
Jungkook shrugs as he takes another sip. “I graduated with my Master’s in Computer Science a long time ago, but with the way technology is progressing these days, I really wanted to go back and bulk up my knowledge.” He pauses to shake his head at himself, and Jimin melts. “Sorry. I’ll try not to get too geeky about it tonight.”
“No, no, this is great,” Jimin says as he leans in a little closer. “What do you do now? Like, what do you do for work?”
“Game engineering. I’m a lead developer at Astronaut Game Studios.”
Jimin nearly chokes on his drink, sputtering slightly before he looks at Jungkook again. “Wait, seriously? You work for AGS? Is the CEO as terrifying as everyone says? Spill. I need to know everything.”
A genuine bark of laughter escapes Jungkook and he places a hand on his chest as if that question is too much for him to handle. He shakes his head, and Jimin feels himself smiling along with him. “Seokjin is… not scary at all once you get to know him. Trust me. A lot of us are relatively close with him.”
“Aw, that’s not fun at all,” Jimin says with a pout, and something in Jungkook’s eyes changes. The way he regards Jimin reminds him of the way he might observe a painting, unable to look away until he’s found every unique detail. Jungkook’s arms fold on the counter and he leans heavily on them, a lazy smile on his face and his drink forgotten in favor of the view in front of him.
Jimin has never felt hotter in his life. This man is absolutely gorgeous, experienced, and intelligent, and yet he is floored by Jimin to the point of being speechless.
If nothing else happens between them tonight, Jimin will still take this as a win.
“So, what do I have to do to get the inside scoop on what the company is working on right now?”
Jungkook pretends to zip his lips and throw away the key, and Jimin sighs dramatically. “Sorry,” Jungkook says, “but I like my job and I plan to keep it.”
Jimin sticks his tongue out, earning another laugh from Jungkook before he takes the last sip of his drink. As soon as he sets it back down, the ice clinking around inside, Jungkook polishes off his own as well.
“Do you want another?” he asks.
“You trying to get me drunk?” Jimin shoots him a wink.
“Never. I’m an honorable man, I swear,” Jungkook says as he lifts his hands into the air. “But I was hoping you would pick my drink for me this time. Get me out of my comfort zone.”
Jimin suddenly shoots upright, beaming. “Really?” he asks, and Jungkook nods. “Okay, you pick mine too, then.”
When the bartender comes back after serving a group of giggling university students, Jungkook thinks for a moment before saying, “Iced green tea with soju, please.”
Jimin pulls an exaggerated look of surprise at him, then pushes his tongue against his teeth and asks, “Would you be able to do a sesame mojito for this lovely man right here? Thank you so much.”
He plops back down on his stool and lifts a brow at Jungkook.
“We’ll start you on the beginner levels.”
“I’m terrified of what the advanced levels are,” Jungkook says.
“Tequila shots off my bare chest,” Jimin says without hesitation. Jungkook’s teeth run over his lower lip, and Jimin feels a little shiver at the sight. “So what was with the letters? JK?”
That seems to catch Jungkook off guard and he sits back.
“Oh, that. Well, I’m out to friends and family but not at work. I don’t like business and pleasure mixing too much,” he says, and Jimin bounces his brow at the word pleasure. Jungkook pretends not to notice, but Jimin sees his throat bob. “So I don’t like to put my real name on there or show my face. It’s a small layer of protection, but at least it’s something. Now,” he pauses to accept their fresh drinks, “it’s your turn to tell me what you do for work.”
“I’m actually a teaching assistant at the university,” Jimin says. He watches Jungkook taste the mojito, satisfied when he seems to like it, and then Jimin tries the green tea soju and moans at the taste. It was a damn good choice. “In the art department.”
“Oof, grading papers and answering questions students should already know the answer to?” Jungkook asks, and Jimin laughs into his drink at the accuracy. “At least it’s in a department you’re passionate about, though.”
“My energy is better matched for more hands-on help,” Jimin shifts in his seat, head tilting to peer at Jungkook through his lashes, “if you know what I mean.”
“Well, I feel like there are two very different ways that could be taken.”
“And both are accurate,” Jimin says with a wink. “No, what I mean is, I like to work in the studios, helping the undergrads really refine their art. I grade stuff too, of course, but the time in the studio is what really fuels me. Aaaand this is where I start geeking out.”
“Hey, talk about it all you want,” Jungkook says around his glass. “I love seeing people talk about their passions. I do have one question, though?”
Chin on his hand again and lashes batting, Jimin hums at him.
Jungkook takes a sip of his drink, then looks Jimin in the eyes with the softest smile he’s seen on his face yet. “Do you consider yourself an artist?”
It takes Jimin a moment to remember that Jungkook had also been at that panel, and then he shrivels up with a nervous laugh. He takes a sip of liquid courage and shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know. I try to. I really do. When there are so many talented people around me everyday, though, it’s hard not to compare myself and doubt that I really… deserve that title.”
“You’ll have to show me your art some time,” Jungkook says. Jimin watches as he takes another drink, eyes tracing the shape of his lips around the rim of the glass. He can imagine those lips on his body and all the things they could do to him.
He crosses his legs.
“I have some pictures on my phone,” Jimin offers, and Jungkook immediately lights up. Excitement bursting through him, Jimin snatches his phone up and hurries to find his album of art, eager to share. He may have his personal hang ups about his place as an artist, but he knows he has some skill. He’s worked too hard to not at least be proud of how far he’s come.
As he shows Jungkook his recent projects, they lean closer and closer to each other, dragging their stools nearer each other to make it easier to share. Jungkook’s knee presses to Jimin’s leg, his hand resting on the back of the stool so Jimin is partially cocooned by him.
He doesn’t know how long they discuss every detail of his art, as he pours out the stories behind each piece and what inspired them, which are his favorites and which he wants to improve upon. Jungkook seems entranced, hanging on to every word and asking Jimin a million and one questions.
When they’re not talking about Jimin, he’s interrogating Jungkook about his love for art, but Jungkook seems keen on dodging those questions. For now, Jimin doesn’t push too much, but he finds it’s a terrible waste if this really is the only night they spend together.
“So how exactly did you get into computer science if you were an artist?” Jimin asks. It’s adjacent to the artist-specific questions, but hopefully distant enough to actually get an answer.
“It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, and Jimin has to hold back a sigh. He knows it shouldn’t be a big deal that Jungkook keeps his private life private, but he’s already so curious about this man. He wants to know everything about him, not just what he feels like in bed. “The short version is that I knew I needed something stable and reliable, and I just had a feeling that the tech industry was only going to grow more and more in the coming years.”
“Smart,” Jimin says. “How did you get into gaming specifically?”
“I was a production technician for years before the monotony of it just started to kill me,” Jungkook says. “I could feel it eating away at my soul and I knew I needed a change. I just started looking around, saw a job at a gaming company, and thought it couldn’t hurt to try. Lucky me, I basically got in on the ground level of the gaming industry before it really blew up, and now here I am. I’ve been with the company longer than most people and it’s… got its ups and downs. But I’m happy with it. Most days I have fun.”
Jimin is just about to dig a little further when the bartender clears his throat and gives them both an apologetic smile. “We’re closing up in 15 minutes.”
“Shit,” Jimin says, then laughs in disbelief. “Sorry. How did it get so late?”
He checks his phone to see the bold white 12:45 staring back at him, and then he groans and hangs his head.
“Fuck, I totally forgot I have to get up early too. I’m supposed to go all the way to Sokcho with some friends.” He looks at Jungkook and calculates how quickly they can get to either his place or Jungkook’s, how long it will take them to fuck, and how many hours of sleep Jimin can get after it all. No matter the case, he’ll be dead tired tomorrow and then Taehyung and Namjoon will kill him.
“Hey, you know what,” Jungkook says as he fishes something out of his jacket pocket. He pulls out his phone and unlocks it, turning it to Jimin. “Give me your number and we’ll meet up again. If you have somewhere to be tomorrow, I don’t wanna be the reason you’re dead tired while traveling.”
Jimin hesitantly accepts the phone, then punches his number in and texts himself so he has Jungkook’s. He hands the phone back and watches as Jungkook smiles, noticing that the text Jimin had sent to himself was a series of inappropriate emojis. Just in case Jungkook has forgotten what they came here for, Jimin wants to remind him.
He’s not giving up on getting the dicking of a lifetime. Especially not from a guy like this. It’s so much hotter when the guy fucking him is also charming and smart as fuck, and is easy to talk to. He’s a dreamboat. Jimin can’t even believe he’s here right now.
“Do you wanna meet up again tomorrow night?” Jimin asks, thumb running along the side of his empty glass, his tongue running along his teeth. He gives the bartender a quick smile and nod of his head as the man takes his glass.
Jungkook looks just as interested, just as eager, his eyes dragging down Jimin’s body before they snap back up. But then he sighs and smiles slightly. “I actually have a prior engagement.”
Something about the vagueness of that makes Jimin suspicious, his head cocking as a flood of possibilities wash into his mind. “You’re not married, are you?” he asks, and he hopes to any god out there that Jungkook remains the dream guy Jimin thinks he is.
Jungkook raises his hand, wiggling his empty fingers at Jimin with a smile. “Divorced,” he says. “For a few years now.”
Jimin relaxes. There’s nothing but sincerity and maybe a tinge of sadness on Jungkook’s face.
“Okay,” he says, then takes a deep breath. “Next weekend?”
“I could do that.”
Jimin purses his lips to contain his smile. As they get ready to leave and pay their tabs, Jimin can’t help but steal glances at Jungkook. The whole way out of the lounge, he’s mesmerized by the way he walks, by the natural swagger, his long legs, his confidence in every little movement. He’s so well put together in every possible way, so clean-cut and neat, handsome and responsible, but with a little edge to him that Jimin can’t quite figure out.
There’s something underneath it all, and he has a feeling he won’t get a peek at that side of Jungkook in public.
They step into the night, the street mostly abandoned, and Jimin drags his gaze over the length of Jungkook’s body as he walks ahead, seemingly enjoying the cool air. Jimin may not get to see all of what Jungkook has to offer, but maybe he can get a taste. Maybe he can see a little hint of what Jungkook has hidden beneath this poised exterior.
“Look, I don’t know if this is weird,” Jimin says, hands in his back pockets as Jungkook stops and spins slowly to face him again, “but since we cock-blocked ourselves—”
Jungkook chuckles, then tips his chin up expectantly at Jimin, slipping his fists into his jacket pockets.
“—can I at least kiss you tonight?” Jimin asks. Jungkook looks surprised, leaning back slightly to flit his eyes up and down Jimin, a tempting smile on his lips. “We can consider it a test run.”
“A test run?”
“Yeah, make sure we’d actually be into fucking,” Jimin says, bouncing his brow at the older man. “You have no idea how many times I wish I’d done that before jumping into bed with some people.”
He takes a step forward, and Jungkook’s smile works into something a little more devious, mouth twisting slightly. It gives him a sly, cat-like appearance, sizing Jimin up like prey.
“You know, maybe you won’t like the flavor of gum I chew,” Jimin says with another step closer, “or maybe I’ll hate the lip balm you use.”
Jimin can tell by the movement of Jungkook’s mouth that his tongue runs along the back of his teeth, and then it pokes against the inside of his cheek. It makes the muscle in his jaw pop, and Jimin nearly falls to his knees. Jungkook glances down the street, mostly empty at this hour.
His eyes slice back over to Jimin. “It’s cherry,” he says, and Jimin cocks his head in question. “My lip balm.”
“Ah,” Jimin perks right up, head dropping forward to smirk at Jungkook through his lashes, “my usual gum is strawberry. So at least we won’t clash in that way.”
All it takes is one backwards step from Jungkook, moving in the direction of a nearby alley, for Jimin to pounce. He twists his hands into the front of Jungkook’s jacket and walks him into the alley, past a faded, flickering light, until his back hits the wall.
Jimin is on him as soon as he has Jungkook pinned, chests flush together, firm grip on his jacket. He dives in and captures Jungkook’s lips, vaguely noticing the mole beneath them before all thoughts fade from his mind. Jungkook responds instantly and, to Jimin’s delight, with a fierceness he hadn’t expected.
His head tilts to deepen the kiss, one hand gripping Jimin’s side, thumb pressing between his ribs. The other flies to the back of Jimin’s head to hold him in the kiss and bend him to his will. His fingers dig lightly into the nape of Jimin’s neck and command him to tilt his head back. Jimin does and damn near moans, lips parting to allow Jungkook to catch the lower one and tug.
If they weren’t in a fucking alleyway, Jimin already knows he would let Jungkook bend him in whatever other ways he wanted.
He tries to keep his head screwed on enough to keep up with Jungkook, clawing at him for more, gasping harsh breaths into the other man’s mouth. Despite how furiously they go at each other, nothing about what Jungkook does is rough. He can make Jimin do what he needs without a word or much effort, his body and subtle gestures telling Jimin exactly what he wants from him. And Jimin can’t help but be compliant, like he’s under a spell.
Jimin is breathless, Jungkook’s knee between his legs, his hand guiding Jimin to move his hips and rut against him like an animal. And Jungkook acts so casual about it, like he’s doing nothing at all while Jimin feels like he’s lost all ability to rationalize anymore. He’s fully primal now, thanks to this man.
“Yeah, you’re definitely seeing me next weekend,” Jungkook says as his hand cards harshly through Jimin’s hair, then grabs it to drag him into another messy, tipsy kiss. It’s the first actual rough gesture from him, and it sends a thrill through Jimin.
Jimin hums into it, his hands flattening against Jungkook’s stomach and following its planes downward. He nearly moans at the thought of everything underneath those clothes, everything he could have had tonight. “Do I get any say in it?” he gasps into Jungkook’s mouth, grinning as teeth sink into his lower lip again.
“Not anymore,” Jungkook says as his other hand presses hard on Jimin’s lower back, forcing him to arch and press their hips together. “Next Saturday. My place.”
Jimin nods, still feverishly trying to lick his way into the other man’s mouth, his fingers scratching their way beneath his shirt to his bare hips. “Mm-kay,” he moans as Jungkook’s hand grazes his ass, then slips into his back pocket and grips hard.
“I’ll text you,” Jungkook says as he leans his head back against the wall to catch his breath. “Saturday.”
“Saturday,” Jimin agrees before he dives in again. He can’t resist, tongue seeking out the taste of Jungkook’s cherry balm again, his body aching for more. And Jungkook opens up to him just as eagerly, lips parting to let Jimin’s tongue in until he pushes his own into Jimin’s mouth.
His hand leaves Jimin’s hair to grip his jaw instead as he takes charge of the kiss once more, tongue working his mouth open, teeth biting his lips raw. Jimin has to grab at the wall, then Jungkook’s shoulders, to keep himself upright.
God, he hopes he doesn’t regret not going home with him tonight.
“Okay, I gotta go,” Jimin says in a feeble attempt to make himself leave. He’s going to be exhausted tomorrow, but he can’t stop himself, falling into Jungkook again, hands on his chest and rucking up his jacket. A hand cups his ass again and he breathes out a satisfied sigh, panting into Jungkook’s mouth. “I really have to go.”
“Then go,” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t stop kissing Jimin, his other hand curling behind Jimin’s neck, thumb stroking over his throat. “No one’s stopping you.”
“Fuck,” Jimin says. “You are. And your fucking hands— Okay, fuck.”
He pulls back, gripping the front of Jungkook’s jacket to stop him from kissing him again. It literally makes him shake to hold back.
“I really enjoyed talking to you tonight,” Jimin says. He wants so badly to throw himself at the man in front of him again, especially with the way Jungkook pins him with that drunken gaze, lids drooping. “And letting you taste the back of my throat.”
With a laugh, Jungkook reaches up to cup Jimin’s chin. “My pleasure,” he says. He pecks Jimin on the lips, pauses to watch his reaction, and then kisses him again. Jimin is about to give in and go home with Jungkook after all.
Fuck his early morning. Fuck his friends. Fuck it all. This is worth it.
But then Jungkook leans back against the wall again, a lazy smirk on his face, his thumb stroking across Jimin’s chin.
“I’ll see you next weekend.”
It’s absurd how such a simple sentence makes Jimin’s legs weak.
“Yeah,” he says, and then leans in slowly, calculated, hovering close before he finally kisses Jungkook one last time. “You will.”
“Text me when you’re home safe.” Jungkook’s fingers stroke beneath Jimin’s chin, and then he steals another little kiss before Jimin steps away. “Goodnight, Jimin.”
“Goodnight,” Jimin’s tongue runs along the inside of his lip, “hyung.”
He keeps his eyes on Jungkook as he takes little, swaying steps out of the alley, reluctant to leave without one more kiss or spending the whole night together. As much as he wants those big hands on him again, it’s not even just about that anymore.
He’s never lost himself in conversation with someone like this before, never felt so at home with a man he’s just met. Somehow, in the throes of their talks, he had actually forgotten he had come here for a hookup and not a real date. Now, here he is, heading home a little drunk and texting Jungkook with a grin on his face to tell him once he’s safely back in his apartment.
By the time he’s showered and brushed his teeth and thrown himself into bed, the euphoria of their night still hasn’t worn off. Whatever higher power decided to bless him tonight, he thanks it profusely for bringing Jungkook to him before he slips into a tipsy slumber.
-♡-
Live music thuds through the floor of the restaurant, bodies swaying lazily as guests chat with each other, bright smiles on their faces in the glowy white-blue lighting of the dance floor. Flashes from the disco ball overhead illuminate them from time to time.
Jungkook will never forgive his friends for installing a disco ball for his birthday party.
He leans back against the wall for a break from socializing, drink in hand and his jacket discarded. As much as he tries not to let it distract him, the whiskey on his tongue reminds him of last night in the lounge, meeting Jimin, talking until 1 o’clock in the morning. It’s been a long time since he felt that at ease with someone. So many times, he wanted to spill everything to Jimin, to tell him his whole history and his lost love for art.
Jimin has this charm and an inviting air about him that makes him easy to open up to. And all the while, Jimin soaks up the knowledge like a sponge, remembering the smallest details Jungkook had mentioned hours before.
Jungkook shakes off the thoughts and downs the rest of his drink. For now, he needs to focus on his family and his friends who spent time and energy and money and poured their love into celebrating his 40th birthday for him. He wishes he could celebrate the way he usually would, but this birthday feels different.
The last few birthdays have felt different, actually.
Prior to the day he came out to his family, he never really cared about aging. To him, it’s the most natural process to go through in life. He came to terms with it a long time ago. He never felt limited by age or time, until that day. After that, he started worrying more and more about not making up for all the years he spent not being himself. He was already 37 by the time he came out. It’s been three years and he feels like he’s barely scratched the surface of exploring everything he had buried down for so long.
After years of feeling like he’s done a decent job of keeping up with everything—the rat race, his friends, his job, the changing times—he suddenly feels like he fell behind with the snap of his fingers. He said two little words and now he’s drowning in a sea of experiences he never got to have.
“Ah, there he is! Man of the hour! The birthday boy!”
Jungkook chuckles as soon as he recognizes that voice and sets his drink down, arms out to accept the hug he already knows is coming.
“Seokjin-ssi,” he says as he’s engulfed in a bear hug, the air crushed from his lungs.
Seokjin steps back with his face stretched in a massive smile, his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders as he looks him over, as though turning 40 is suddenly going to make him a different person.
“One of these days I’ll catch you calling me ‘hyung’,” he says, and Jungkook tries not to laugh.
“Today’s not that day, sorry,” Jungkook says. Propriety was always drilled into his head when he was younger. Even if he and Seokjin are friends, he’s also still Jungkook’s boss. He’s going to show him the respect he was taught to.
“Ah, well, welcome to the 40s club,” Seokjin says. “The age where you just keep getting better looking, if I’m anything to go by. Yoongi is a member too. You can’t deny he aged like a fine wine.”
“That’s a club I’m never leaving,” Jungkook says. “If I never acknowledge my age again, I can’t age anymore.”
Seokjin snorts at him. “Keep telling yourself that. Yesterday morning I woke up and my hip ached like I just got run over by a bulldozer.” He drops against the wall beside Jungkook and bobs his head to the music. “Damn. Your kid really pulled out all the stops, didn’t she?”
Jungkook chuckles. “Yeah, she’s been so busy that I haven’t even seen her yet.”
“Oh, she was just yelling at someone in the kitchen for getting too close to the cake before you got a chance to cut it.”
Grabbing his drink again, Jungkook says, “She’s always been a handful like that.”
“Ah, you raised her well,” says Seokjin as the band finishes one song and gets ready to launch into another. “She’s a good kid, and she obviously adores you. Speaking of…”
Jungkook follows his eyes to find his daughter swerving through the crowd of people, her dress—which he guesses she designed and sewed herself—swishing around. She beams as she approaches, clearly excited to see her dad after tending to guests all night.
“I’ll leave you two be,” Seokjin says as he squeezes Jungkook’s shoulder. “This is my song anyway.”
He takes off toward the dance floor, stopping to say hi to Jangmi and give her a hug as well. He’s practically family to her after all the times Seokjin saved Jungkook’s ass by letting him bring Jangmi to work on days he had nowhere else to take her. He and her mom often couldn’t afford babysitters until Jungkook was well-established at AGS and had worked his way up to a sizable salary.
Little Jangmi would sit on his office floor and play with the choose-your-own-adventure booklets that Jungkook had drawn for her himself. He would spend all of his free time sketching out characters for her to meet, places for her to go, and set up a little system to guide her through her choices. It was a way to give her some fun when they didn’t have the money to buy new toys and take her on adventures when they could never afford actual vacations. Most of the time he would sit with her and narrate the stories as she progressed, sometimes he designed them specifically so she could play with them on her own when he needed to work.
Once she’s escaped from Seokjin’s talkative, jackhammer mouth, Jangmi throws her arms out to her sides, striking a pose before she twists from side to side to show off the asymmetrical handkerchief hem of her dress to Jungkook. “Isn’t it cute?”
Jungkook cocks his head, mouth open as he wavers between being honest and simply complimenting her. She’s an adult and has been for long enough now that he knows he needs to let her live her own life. Still, a little part of him forgets that she’s not his little girl anymore, that she can protect herself and make decisions on her own.
Sometimes it kills him how little she needs him, but he also knows it’s necessary and healthy for her to be capable and independent. That doesn’t stop him from wishing he could rewind time and do a few things over.
“Dad, I swear, if you say it’s too short,” she says as her arms drop to her sides in little clenched fists. She stomps over to his side as he laughs.
“No, it looks nice,” he says. He leans over and cradles her head to drop a kiss to the top of it. “You look beautiful.”
She bumps her hip against his. “Thanks. You look decent too.”
Jungkook nearly chokes on his whiskey. “Gee, thanks so much,” he says. “You made this dress yourself, right?”
“Of course,” Jangmi says with a flip of her hair. “What kind of fashion student would I be if I just shopped at H&M?”
Jungkook glances down at his clothes. “Is that a dig at me?”
“Of course not,” Jangmi says, but her devilish smirk tells him otherwise. It’s always been their love language, these gentle little jokes at each other.
Jangmi looks proud of herself as she leans on the wall beside him and observes the room, still swarming with people as they mingle, the live band playing on in the background. She should be proud. She put this whole thing together mostly on her own, even when she had classes to attend and a job to do. He is certainly proud of her for everything she manages to juggle on her own. She’s much more well-adjusted than he had been at her age.
“I thought about hiring a band that could perform some trot,” Jangmi says as she tucks her hair behind her ears and scrunches her shoulders up at him. “You know, so you could relive your younger years.”
“That was a little before my time, actually,” he says as she snickers. He shakes his head at her, though they both know there’s no real ill will, then finishes off his drink and sets the glass aside. As Jangmi’s wicked smirk fades a bit, Jungkook reaches over to smooth down her hair, just like he used to when she was a child. “Thank you for planning all of this.”
Her smile returns, this time gentle and sweet, and she leans into his side as he hugs around her shoulders. “Of course. You deserve it,” she says and then, a little more quietly, adds, “I know things haven’t been easy for you lately. I just wanted you to remember how loved you are.”
Jungkook feels like he could cry when he looks down at her, her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder as she watches the band. Even though he’s done his best to keep his struggles to himself for the past few years, he supposes it must be obvious at times. “Impossible to forget with you around.”
“Good,” she says. “Happy birthday, Dad.”
With a deep breath, Jangmi pulls away and swings her arms back and forth. Her cheeks puff up, and then she exhales slowly and turns back to Jungkook.
“Well, I should go check on things real quick,” she says. “Promise me you’ll mingle a little more. You’re getting antisocial.”
“Far from it. I hang out with people at work every lunch.”
“Doesn’t count,” Jangmi says as she walks away backwards, covering her ears to show she’s not listening to arguments anymore. “Talk to people. Enjoy yourself. Have fun tonight. I’m bringing the cake out in 10 minutes, ‘kay?”
Jungkook nods.
“Promise you’ll mingle.”
“Promise.” Jungkook smiles when she nods, satisfied with his answer, then spins on her heel and zooms back into the crowd. He watches familiar faces pass by, swaying to the music or singing along. He really should mingle instead of wallowing. If he’s honest with himself, he has a lot of time ahead and plenty of years to figure himself out. There’s no reason to get so worked up.
He pushes off the wall and, just as he’s about to find someone to talk to, his phone buzzes in his pocket. When he fishes it out, he’s surprised to find a text from Jimin.
JIMIN:
Hope you’re having fun with your prior engagement tonight!
I’m home from Sokcho and still alive.
So you still have this hot piece waiting for you next weekend ;)
Have a good night~
It almost feels like a sign. A reminder that he really isn’t so far behind, and that even though there’s an overwhelming amount for him to explore in the world that has opened up to him in the past three years, some of it really is worth the wait. Another night like last night is worth the wait.
He smiles and pockets his phone, a little burst of hope inside of him as he slips right into the flow of the crowd. Tonight, he’ll make the best of what he does have. The worries of what’s to come or what he’s missed can wait for another time. Tonight, he’ll appreciate the love he is given and he won’t let himself take that for granted again.