#because i can't make decisions for myself! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clubdionysus · 1 day

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[BAD DECISION #25] January

warnings: we get jaykay in his student era!!! poor baby is STRESSED!! very wholesome!! b makes him pasta, very lovely <33 until very suddenly it's not!! fingering, mentions of the erotic accordion, lots of teasing. a personal fave!!

wc: 12.5k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

It's a pleasant surprise to see Kim Taehyung with his clothes on.

His cheeks are still a little warm when he strolls into the art cafe, well aware that it was his other cheeks you'd been confronted with when you'd seen him last.

Hands in pockets, he plays it off. Is cool and casual, in that suave way artists so often are.

"If you're looking for Danbi, we only live together. Don't work together. Think you'll find her at Memorial Park with half a dozen dogs, maybe" you tease.

He rolls his eyes, and continues forward to the main desk. When he reaches it, he leans an elbow down and looks quite at home. Dressed in a pair of dark slacks and cream button-up, he's a business-casual Capricorn's wet dream. It's entirely understandable why Danbi couldn't resist. You're surprised it's taken her this long, if anything.

"If it was Danbi I was after, it'd be Danbi I was with," he assures you, smile ever-present. He's charming; not like a sleazebag, but like a Disney prince. Always says the right thing. "And anyways, I know she's there. Just been there, myself."

You smile, pleased for your best friend.

It makes sense. She's been with him every night since New Year's. Your apartment has actually been a little lonely.

A week on since you were greeted with his bare arse, you're curious as to why Taehyung would be gracing you with his presence. It wouldn't be entirely out of character, but you are also aware that the last time he was here, it was to pitch his art show.

You remind him of this - not that he needs it, as he passes a business card over to you, embossed with a since hangul syllable: 류.

"Ryu?" You ask. "As in the gallery?"

He nods. "Ryu Gallery."

It's mid-size, a little out of town, but well-respected. Was one of the many galleries that simply didn't get back to Tae - but you have an acquaintance who works there. A friend of Seokjin's, actually. Involved in the finance side of the company. Had invited him along because you figured that there was no harm in asking. Didn't really expect him to show up.

Pulling his phone from his front pocket, Taehyung says nothing as he loads up his call history. At the top, there's a red number - one missed call - and a small play button next to what you assume is a voicemail. He presses down on it, and lets it play out.

"Hello, this is Park Shinwon from Ryu Gallery. I was passed your information by one of our colleagues, and was wondering if you had availability for a call regarding your work? We have an opening at the end of the month and are looking for a local artist to fill the space. If you think this could be a good fit for you, please call me back at the earlie-"

Taehyung cuts the voicemail short. You've heard all the important stuff.

There's a smile on your face; one that brewed gently as the memo played out. He'd done it. The write-ups and reviews had been fantastic, and Namjoon had helped get Taehyung a decent spot in the arts & culture section of the local paper, but this is the first solid indication that the show had been prosperous.

"Holy shit," you beam, clapping your hands together in tiny little pats of joy.

"Right?!" He beams right back. Phone locked and back in his pocket, Taehyung's never looked prouder of himself. You don't know him like you know Jimin or Jeongguk, but you know him well enough to understand how huge this is for him. "I can't even begin to thank yo-"

"No!" You laugh, reaching across the counter to squeeze his arm. "Don't you dare. It was your hard work, Tae. You did this! Congratulations!"

A little bashful in the way he looks down, it's clear that he's not used to such high praise. It's something he'll have to get used to, you think. This is just the start for him. He's destined for greats, you're sure of it - but then again, you have unwavering faith in everyone you care about. You'll manifest for them; will their dreams into reality. You're not sure if it works, but it's nice to think it does.

"Did you call back? What did you say?" You enthuse, before a couple comes to the counter with their finished artwork. Gritting your teeth, you cast Taehyung an apologetic smile. "Ah, just give me a moment."

He nods, and tells you to carry on. He knows he's interrupted you at work and feels bad for it. He could have just waited until he came around that evening (Danbi had already asked if he would), but was too nervous about the call.

When you return from packing up the canvases and ringing through the bill, he admits to it.

"Haven't actually called them yet," he grits his teeth together, eyes apologetic. "Didn't know what to say. It's kinda why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"You can say no," he prefaces, "but like... I don't know the first fucking thing about the suit side of the art world. Don't know how to negotiate, don't even know if that is something I need to be doing. I'm a fish out of water. and you're the only person I know - and trust - who seems to have any clue what they're doing."

It's really sweet that he thinks you have any idea at all. You just wing it a solid seventy percent of the time. You have connections, and you have a functioning brain. That's about it.

Still, you'll let him think that you have your wits about you.

"So..." you encourage, trying to coax a proper question out of him. You know what he's asking, but really think that all of Jeongguk's ragtag bunch of friends could do with learning how to ask for what they want. Maybe not Yoongi. He seems to have shit figured out.

"So..." Taehyung imitates, a friendly grin on his face. He's pretty. Really isn't hard to see why Danbi likes him. She's always gone for the artsy types. Likes to be a muse. "I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? Sort of like an agent, but not quite, 'cause I'm poor as fuck and definitely can't afford it."

"Agents work on commission," you tell him. "Or at least some of them do, so it doesn't matter that you're poor now."

"Well, I might never be rich," he warns you.

Taehyung believes in his work. Loves his work. Is yet to have success that reflects this. Other people don't seem to feel as strongly about it, which leaves him with lingering doubt as to whether or not he actually has something , or if it's all a bit of a vanity project. He hopes it's not. Knows that Rome wasn't built in a day, mind you.

It takes dedication. A hard grind. He's got grit and determination, but the doors he's knocked at have been double-bolted. Thinks that maybe you could give him a key.

"I doubt that very much," you say regarding his doubts.

Of all the work showcased at the last show, it was his pieces that people kept coming back to. His pieces tagged in the art cafe's Instagram by customers. His pieces that sold; that got people interested. You had even had a girl in the cafe on a date a few weeks ago, who painted a replica of one of Tae's prints, which had been hanging on the wall beside her.

He's got talent.

But he knows that's not enough.

"Still, I didn't even realise agents were paid that way. I've no idea what on earth I'm doing, Disco Ball. Not really."

You take a moment to consider the proposition, but you aren't sure why. It's a no-brainer. Of course you'll help him out. You've contacts, thanks to your job, and acquaintances with money to spend thanks to Seokjin. You'll be an invaluable resource for him - and he'd much rather have a friend leading him through this unchartered territory than someone who only cares about numbers and finances.

"I'll make you a deal," you offer. "I'll help you, free of charge, but on one condition."

"Go on..."

You beam; smile so sweet that Taehyung knows your compromise is probably unconventional.

"I get a Kim Taehyung original."

"It won't be worth anything," he laughs. "It's a rotten deal."

"Not yet, maybe, but it will be," you tell him.

Much like Jeongguk's dreams, you believe in Taehyung's, too. Have no doubt he will achieve success. He's a Capricorn. Is just what they do.

"Alright," he agrees. Holds out his hand for you to shake. "I'll give you a free commission. You can redeem it at any time. Anything, any size, doesn't matter. It's yours."

He makes a mental note to revise this deal as you shake his hand. Doesn't think it's entirely fair on you. Thinks that he's benefitting far more from this than you will - but good, original artworks within your budget are hard to come by. You know your future self will thank you for this.

You tell Taehyung to arrange a meeting with the consultant at Ryu Gallery.

"I'll go with you as a representative; will ask the right questions, stuff like that. The key here is to not sell yourself short or undervalue your work. If you sell a million-dollar piece for a hundred bucks, it'll set a precedent. People will take advantage. It'll be detrimental."

He nods, eager to learn. Willing to listen. Wants to succeed, and will do all he can to make sure it happens.

Departing only after you force him to call Ryu Gallery back and set a date in the calendar for next week, Taehyung is beyond appreciative. Both Danbi and Jeongguk had told him to reach out to you again, but he'd felt a little guilty, almost as if he was taking advantage of how charitable you are.

You don't really see it that way. Figure that if the roles were reversed, he'd do the same for you.

"Oh, just quickly!" Taehyung pipes up just as he reaches the door of the cafe. "The piece up in Jeongguk's living room - the black and gold one." Your face heats up. "Who's the artist?"

"Not sure," you shrug with an inconspicuous purse of your lips. "Why?"

"Jeongguk just said he got it from here," Taehyung explains, your cheeks only getting rosier and rosier. "I really like it so just wondered if it was part of a bigger collection."

"I can check," you say, knowing that there is absolutely no way you're ever gonna produce another one of those. Now that Tae's asking questions about it, you know Jeongguk needs to squirrel it away. The last thing you want is the truth coming out.

"Amazing," he beams.

You smile right back, but let it fade into a groan as he heads down the stairs, the realisation that he's seen the imprint of your tits leaving you mortified.

It's only fair though, you suppose. You have seen his arse, after all. Maybe you are more well acquainted than you realise.

The lives that you and Jeongguk had lived separately for many moons have somehow converged, meeting a diving point of intervention; as if you were meant to live your lives exactly as you have, just for moments like these.

This is only amplified when you arrive at Jeongguk's place after your shift finishes.

On New Year's day, after the creation of his sticky note shrine, origami birds watching proudly, you'd reached an agreement with Jeongguk: each and every one of the sticky notes have to be done by the end of the year.

"What about the birds?" Jeongguk had asked, not wanting to sacrifice them.

You both know the birds hold far more weight. The sticky notes are fun; a chance to experiment freely with somebody who is on the same page as you. The birds are all about preparing yourself to turn the page, so you can meet someone willing to start a new book with you.

Curled up in his bed, while Jeongguk had been sitting on his bedroom floor putting together a display box for a new 'sculpture' (because he refuses, still, to let you call them action figures) that he'd been gifted for Christmas, you had contemplated his question.

"The birds fall naturally," you'd hummed. "They drop when the universe needs them to. The sticky notes are deliberate. We're making the active choice to do them."

Cross-legged, Jeongguk reached over to get a small screwdriver from his bedside table. Your gaze had been up on the birds, but drifted down to him.

"So we'll make the active choice to do the sticky notes, and then just do the birds when they fall?" Jeongguk had clarified, not looking at you as he threaded a small screw into its hole.

"Yeah," you'd smiled. "Like, I come round once a week, and we get a sticky note done. Something like that."

Looking up at you now, Jeongguk had tilted his head in contemplation, pursing his lips before finally nodding. "Shall we say Sundays?"

With a slight sense of trepidation, but the awareness of this being good for you both, you had nodded. "Sundays. Trial it for the month of January. See how it goes."

And so now you're at Jeongguk's place for the first time since New Year's with a clear agenda - and yet all you really want to do is hang out with him. Innocently. Platonically.

"Oh thank God," Jimin breathes out with an overdramatic sigh of relief when he opens the door for you. Shoes on, jacket slung over his shoulders, he's been waiting on your arrival. "Jeongguk- '' he calls back into the darkness. None of the living area lamps are on, the city lights illuminating their apartment instead. "The babysitter is here! I'll be gone till morning. Don't be any trouble."

You roll your eyes, flicking his arm as you step past him into the apartment.

He's heading out for a family event down in Busan. Jeongguk had been intending on going to the city with him, but simply has too much school work to do.

Finals are coming up. He's stressed to the absolute high heavens.

"I will warn you," Jimin says quietly while you take off your shoes. "He's in a foul mood. Has been for, like, three days now. Think it's his time of the month."

"Still baffles me how you're able to pull," you mutter, knowing that any explanations on the intricacies of the menstrual cycle would be wasted on him - only for Jimin to remind you that he pulled you . "Was a moment of weakness," you assure him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say DB," he grins. "Look after him alright? Make sure he eats his veggies and brushes his teeth before bed."

Jimin departs faster than the winter wind that's howling against their windows. You don't even have a chance to question why he's treating Jeongguk like such a child - but as you walk into his bedroom, you sort of see why.

His bed's unmade, and he hasn't showered since, like, Thursday, maybe. Papers are scattered all over his desk, and there's a collection of takeout boxes by his door. The birds that were on his desk are now perched up on the shelf, laying in the middle of his chessboard. Beside them, a pot of your misplaced glitter sparkles in the dim light.

Quite unlike himself, Jeongguk's jaw looks sharper but his cheeks are bloated. You can tell he hasn't been eating nor drinking enough. Has a can of Monster on his desk, but you both know it's not enough to sustain him.

He really does look like a university student now, more than he ever has done before. Glasses on, hair tied in a tiny bun by the nape of his neck, teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip, the stress is evident in his sloped posture.

"Don't look at the mess," he mumbles, embarrassed that you have to see his room in this state, but also too preoccupied to really care.

You meander to his bed and sit down, one leg crossed beneath the other. Smile. "Too late."

"Sorry," he offers, but you shake your head - not that he's looking at you.

"S'fine," you hum. "If tonight is bad for you, we can always resched-"

"No," he says rather sharply, finally turning to look at you. His eyes are all wide and wanting, hating the idea of you leaving so soon, but they're also tired . He needs rest. "No, sorry." He puts down his pen, and turns in his chair a little. "I'm probably gonna be shitty company, but I'd like you to stay."

And so you nod. Of course you'll stay.

"Your hair looks sweet like this," you muse a little mindlessly as you come to stand by him, letting your index finger twirl in the curl that sticks out from the small bun.

His hair is always silky smooth, and you're envious of how well-nourished it is. A little curly, he definitely visits the salon every once in a while. You find it all very endearing, imagining him with a little salon cape around his shoulders, protectors over his ears, curlers in his hair.

"Needs a wash," he simply states, not wanting to dwell on the compliment that makes his tummy feel all funny. He's not really used to such delicate compliments.

Jiyeong would always comment on his physical strength, manliness, shit like that. Hardly surprising, given that she works at the gym. It's not just her though - Hayun's favourite part of him was always his upper arms.

He's no idea what you like about him. What attracts you to him - 'cause as much as you both like to pretend you're a bit repulsed by one another, there's obviously gotta be some sort of mutual attraction. The sex is too good.

Unless, he considers, it's all just chemical. Hormonal shit he doesn't understand, but knows plays an important role in chemistry. Maybe you aren't physically attracted to him at all.

"Wish my hair looked that good when it needs a wash," you sigh.

"I've never seen it look bad," he says, not thinking much of it.

"Well, I'd hope not," you smile. "I do know how to shower."

"I've got some things just to finish up - shit ," he curses as he realises just how much of a mess his room is. "I'm sorry. Been at work today, haven't you? Can grab a shower if you like, or something while I do this."

'This' is test revision. Coursework never really stresses him out, even if he does leave it until the last minute. He has more control over the variables. Exams make him nervous, and if there's one feeling Jeongguk hates, it's nervousness. Figures if he studies and studies and studies, then he'll feel prepared, and the nerves will ease. It never works. Only ever makes it worse.

"You sure?" you ask, though if you're being honest, a shower right now would be ideal. You got paint all over you at work, and while most of it washed off in the sink, you still feel a little less than fresh. "Or is this some backhanded way of telling me my hair looks shit?"

"Oh, 100%. You look awful. But also, yes. I'm sure," he smiles, soft eyes patient as he tries to push the pressure of his studies to the back of his mind. He hasn't seen you all week. Has missed you. Is glad you're here. Kinda hates that he's telling you to leave him, already, even if it's only for twenty minutes or so.

"Gonna join?" You ask, not really thinking much of it. Just a habit, now.

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Will get one later."

There are two distinct halves to Jeongguk's fear of rejection. The obvious, most notable half is the part of him that hates the feeling of being rejected, which prevents him from asking for what he wants.

Far less discussed is the part of him that feels like he always has to say yes, because he doesn't ever want to make other people feel bad.

Just like he never fears rejection from you, he doesn't fear your reaction to his rejection, either. There's a stable foundation to your friendship. It's good for him.

So used to transactional relationships with the girls he's slept with - on their part, not his - he doesn't really realise that this - what you two have - is normal. It's how it should be.

And so when you smile, and say 'okay', Jeongguk almost expects you to start fighting with him.

It's been a few days since he spoke with Jiyeong ( where it was firmly established that she ended it with him, and that he was the problem, not her) but lingering patterns of behaviour still plague his mind. Feelings of failure still reside in the part of his brain that deals with desire.

You believe him when he says he won't join. Don't try and tempt. Tonight isn't about that - though you do glance over to the myriad of sticky notes on his bedroom wall before you grab his towel. Pay no notice to the fact there's a new one. Just as fluffy - exactly the same, you think - it's still wrapped in a sleek bow with the tag on it.

Maybe he's gotten annoyed with how often you use it. Maybe you're just such a permanent fixture that two seems like a good idea. You don't ask about it.

Instead, you also grab one of his shirts - the one with his hand prints on it. Paint markers have been taken to the shirts since, now outlining where his bones would be. The skeleton hands make you laugh - but they also get you thinking about that shower with him.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you leave Jeongguk to get on with his studies.

As you start the shower up and relieve your hair from the claw clip it's up in, you aren't too concerned with him joining. You genuinely do want to shower. Leave the door open just in case, but don't wait for him like you did the last time you were in the same position.

It turns out showers are far quicker when you're solo. You leave it without the feel of his hands on your body, but the scent of his strawberry shower gel still stains your skin. Feels like you're perpetually covered in him, in a roundabout way.

Scrunching your hair with his towel as you head back into his room, your clothes are still in a pile on his bathroom floor. You're just in the shirt now, bra foregone, underwear on to maintain some kind of decency.

You don't really greet him, instead heading to the window to take in the view. You're always envious of the skyline. It makes you consider moving closer to the inner city - but you're quite comfortable in your low-rise with Danbi. Plus, you can always just come and hang out here if you find yourself missing it.

Jeongguk says nothing as he comes to stand in behind you; personal space void of any meaning between the pair of you. Chin resting on your head, he drapes his arms over your shoulders.

You whisper a small greeting, and he whispers one back, but neither of you make conversation. Instead, you just watch the traffic roll on by.

His eyes are down by the traffic lights, watching as a small crowd forms, a red light preventing them from crossing even though the road is clear. Yours are a little higher up, on the motel that is hidden between two skyscrapers. The curtains are mostly all drawn; save for one, where a couple stands in a position hauntingly similar to yours and Jeongguk's. They're smiling. Joking about something. Enjoying one another company - until the person standing in Jeongguk's position draws the curtain shut to keep the world at bay.

Maybe they're friends, too, you hypothesize - but friends don't book in love motels together, and if they do? Well, they certainly don't look like that together.

It's not like it's a new concept to you. You understand the conventions of couples; just think that maybe the line between romantic and platonic is far finer than you previously believed. Reckon that you and Jeongguk have a clear sense of it.

Turning in your spot, you wanna get a read on his face; see if you can gauge what he's thinking, what he's feeling. He doesn't move back as you turn. Stays in position. Doesn't mind the closeness.

Just an inch or so away from you, the proximity forces you to tilt your chin upwards in order to catch his gaze. His own chin is tipped to his chest, looking down at you in the gentlest of ways.

Storm clouds of mascara rest faintly beneath your lash line, and the occasional rivulet of water trails from your hair and down your skin like spring rain. Your typically tempestuous attitude is nowhere to be seen; docile in the calm of Jeongguk's mellow summer air.

Silent as the pads of his fingers stroke down the side of your neck, you're well aware of the fact you're not really breathing. Are too consumed by trepidation. Fearful and yet hopeful of what's to come. His firmly pouted lips part slowly - but he doesn't lean down.

Instead, his fingertips hook beneath the chain around your neck, and slowly begin to twist it back into position. The clasp had fallen to the front, excess chain tangling around the charm.

Jeongguk holds the dainty silver bird where it should be, between your collarbones, his touch feathery as he preens you.

Cautious and yet entirely confident, he doesn't mean to steal your breath - but it's only fair. You took his first.

His lip purse. Fold in on themselves. Lip ring does the thing. Adam's apple bobs as he swallows back a feeling he doesn't quite know what to make of.

And then he simply nods. Steps a little further back. Smiles. "There. Much better."

A discreet smile ghosts your lips as he turns away from you to get back to his work. Revision always gets him in this weird of constant contempt; stressed at the world around him even when he needn't be. Gets him antsy. Agitated.

His stress manifests in hunched shoulders and restless legs which jitter beneath his desk.

He tries to ignore the twinge of guilt in his chest as you leave the room without a word. Knows that he must be terrible company. Wonders why he can't just express himself normally.

Contrarily, you worry that Jeongguk just wants to be alone, and that your presence is overbearing. He could have cancelled plans if he wanted to. You wouldn't have minded. Sure, you've missed hanging out with him, but it's not the end of the world. Is probably good to have a little bit of a breather from one another every now and again.

Fixated on the fact you feel like a bother, you set about making yourself useful. He looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in a good while, and the boys keep their fridge remarkably well-stocked for a couple of bachelors with a penchant for nightlife.

Jeongguk listens out for you, still doing his work. Can hear you rummaging about in the fridge, and wonders what on earth you could be doing. Figured that the pair of you would just order in, or something like that.

Truthfully, you'd thought the same - but they've got a stockpile of tomatoes, and chicken that needs using. Without Danbi at home much this week, you've overindulged in take-out and snack foods a few too many times. You need a good meal just as much as he does.

Glancing over to the hob, you check the pasta in the glass jar next to Jeongguk's chopping board. They're out of spaghetti, save for maybe ten strands, but thankfully have a full jar of rigatoni.

You know you can thank Jimin for the decanted pasta. The more you learn about him, the more you understand why his bedroom is so bare despite his job. He calls it 'intuitive interior design' - making life easy for himself through deliberate choices. It's why his bedroom is so streamlined. Less clutter means he can reset his brain more easily.

The living space is where the colour of the apartment is - Tae's paintings, photobooth strips, feather boas stolen from Dionysus - but the kitchen is laid out in a way that makes things easy for both of the boys.

You set about getting the things you might need, not really caring to ask Jeongguk's permission. Whatever you use, you'll happily buy again in the morning, but also highly doubt he'll ask you to. At least this way, he won't have to waste perfectly good ingredients on account of them rotting away in the bottom of the fridge.

You're chopping the tomatoes by the time Jeongguk comes to stand in his doorway.

Leaning against the frame, a hand in his pocket, a soft smile on his lips, he's a little confused. Just watches as domestication becomes you; stars forming on your cheeks when the low glare of the overhead lights hits you just right. Hair still a little damp, it's up with a claw clip, small strands framing your face. You've the speaker on quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Some song he doesn't know by an artist he doesn't recognise plays. All he knows is that he likes it. Likes how comfortable this feels.

Jeongguk has missed you. Has been working to the point of exhaustion, but unable to sleep whenever he goes to bed. Looking at you now, he tries to stifle a yawn. Is glad you haven't noticed his presence, 'cause he knows the face he just pulled wasn't pretty.

But he thinks you are.

The fact he feels like he could sleep now? A curse, he decides. Doesn't wanna sleep. Wants to spend all evening catching up with you.

You're using the side of the knife to gather the chopped tomatoes together, and scooping them into a bowl, when you finally notice him.

"Hey," you say, a smile present as always. Such a simple word, but such a comforting one, too.

"Hey," he smiles back. "Watcha doin', B?"

"Baking a cake," you joke as you begin to peel some garlic from a bulb.

"Mhmm? Tomato cake," he says, pushing off the doorframe with his shoulder and making his way to the kitchen island. He stands opposite you, resting his elbows on the counter, chin in his hands. "My favourite."

The way your eyes sparkle under the warm lights that hang down from the ceiling has Jeongguk thinking of the stars again. His are all starry too, but you think that's just normal for him.

"Good," you say. "I'm making you your very own tomato cake. You have to eat it all ."

"I will."

"You better."

"Every last crumb," he nods - and even though tomato cake sounds absolutely repulsive to him, his stomach rumbles. Makes you laugh.

"When did you last eat?" you ask as you turn to the hob to fetch some spices off the rack.

Jeongguk mumbles. Says he doesn't really remember. Your eyes are sympathetic, frown present when you face him again.

"Gotta look after yourself," you tell him.

"I know. I will. I am - it's just, this exam, Byeol... I'm bricking it."

You had figured as much, but it's nice to have him confirm it instead of letting your assumptions take the lead.

"S'why I chose a coursework exclusive degree," you tease, trying to lighten his mood. "Was heaven."

"I'm so glad we didn't know each other back then," he laughs. "Would have resented you so badly."

You grimace, and give him a look he doesn't understand.

"You're BEM boy," you explain, shortening his Business and Events Management course name to the acronym that it's more commonly known by on campus. And then you shudder. "We wouldn't have been friends."

"Oh, bullshit," he protests. He knows boys on the full-time BEM course have a reputation amongst the alumni. Fuckboys . He's part-time, though. Doesn't run with those crowds. Is a good few years older than most of them, now.

"Nope," you argue back, still pottering about the kitchen, adding more ingredients to the saucepan. "If you'd have been in uni at the same time as me, I'd have avoided you like the plague."

"Would have been your loss."

Doesn't wanna blow his own trumpet, but knows that he looked damn good at 21. Considers it his peak. Forgets 23, and the amount of girls falling at his feet (was too busy at the time, face down by Hayun's feet instead). Simply doesn't realise how good he looks now, at 25.

Maybe 18-year-old Jeongguk was a little awkward, granted, but everyone is at that age. Whenever he used to visit his friends on campus for nights out, the girls they knew would always want to go out with them.

It's actually how he met Hayun. Was 19, and Taehyung had just done a project with her and Nabi for some extra credit. She came on a night out, and he got so nervous around her that he decided to black out just so he didn't have to feel the nerves. He'd woken up the next morning face down in a kebab box on the floor of Nabi and Hayun's dorm.

He resigned himself to the friend zone, and for a while, it had worked. For years, in fact. Convinced himself that they really were just friends. Best friends. Had offered to shag her after she'd spent a solid twenty minutes complaining about the fact she hadn't had sex for long she may as well have been a born-again virgin. Was just joking - but when she called his bluff, Jeongguk folded.

Maybe it wouldn't have been your loss at all.

Maybe you'd have never become friends, like you are now.

Maybe you both had to live through your traumas to be able to find one another.

You just scoff, unaware of memory lane taking Jeongguk down an unfavourable path. " Sure . My first uni hook-up was with a guy doing BEM. Trust me. I would have avoided you."

"Oh?" Jeongguk questions. "Do I know him?"

Shaking your head, you turn to place the pan on the stovetop, and let it heat up. "Doubt it. Was a final year when I was a fresher, so would have been gone way before you started."

Jeongguk's brows furrow, now. "When you were a fresher? A final year?"

Humming confirmation, you carry on with your cooking.

"He was supervising the fresher's bar crawl," you explain. Can't even remember his name, now. Can barely remember anything about that night. "Was leading my team. I lost against him in a drinking game. Really couldn't handle my drink back then. Anyways, I ended up in some off-campus house with the most vom-inducing hickies known to man."

"So you were drunk?"

It sounds a little accusatory. He doesn't mean to. It's just that he deals with creeps taking advantage of drunk girls all the time. Hates it. Hates thinking it happened to you.

"Yeah?"

"And he wasn't?"

"He was less so. Was still drinking, but yeah, it wasn't my best decision."

The way you shrug it off frustrates Jeongguk. His lips purse a little, and the dimples reserved for moments of contemplation deepen in his cheeks.

"You know what it's like when you're eighteen," you continue, facing away from him, unaware of his obvious contempt. "First taste of freedom and all that. Think you're invincible. And like, I made worse choices that year," you add, as if that's supposed to soften the blow of what you've just told him.

His tummy feels all twisted; as if his body is trying to manifest the concept of time travel just so he can go back and apply for university when everyone else did. Wants to have been your friend right from the start. Wants to erase the reality of creeps taking advantage of you.

"Still a kid at eighteen," he says. Strange, how he doesn't afford his past self the same kindness. "It's so young."

You shrug, turning back around to retrieve the extra vegetables for the sauce. "Easy to think that, looking back. Thought I had the world figured out, at the time. The older I get the more naive I realise I was."

Funny, how years and years later, you feel more clueless than you ever did back then. Relationships were black and white; you either loved someone, or you didn't.

Now, the concept of love you once knew isn't one that you're entirely sure you believe in. Not in the same way you did.

"Anyways, you should shower," you say, moving the conversation along. No point dwelling on pasts that make no difference, now. "You look like shit."

He reaches over to one of the spare tomatoes and throws it in your direction. Smiles when you try to swat it away, only for it to hit your neck regardless.

"Charming as always, Byeol," he says a little dryly, but with his smile still wide.

"Well, you do," you assure him, face straight, eyes earnest.

"Show up at my place, use my hot water, start rummaging around in my fridge-" he says with a tsk .

" You invited me," you scoff right back. " Told me to shower, and I'm cooking for you . Christ alive. You really are unbearable today."

The grin on Jeongguk's face is so pretty, eyes so sparkly, that you think you want to kiss him again. Silly little thought in your silly little head. Silly, and improper, and dangerous. Disastrous, in fact.

"And," you add on, because you know you need this conversation to end. "You stink. So go and get a shower, you horrible boy."

Feeling somewhat challenged, Jeongguk lifts his arm above his head and nestles his nose right into his pit. Inhales, as if he's smelling freshly baked pie. Smiles. "Ahhhh. Delicious."

You gag.

"You wanna smell?" he offers, leaning a little further on the counter, face sweet as he encourages you. The look of repulsion on your face is exactly what he was after. "Yeah?"

"Keep that pit away from me," you warn, holding up the knife you had used to chop the tomatoes.

Despite the threat, Jeongguk edges around the kitchen island. "Yeah? Wanna smell?"

"Stay the fuck away!"

"Wait, I didn't hear you. You said come closer?"

"Gguk!"

For all your protests, the knife is back down on the counter. You tossed it down so you could run from him, but you're not really trying all that hard.

You'll pretend like you are. Wriggle from his grip when he catches you. Try and hide your laugh as he tries to quite literally smother you. Will pinch his nipple through his shirt as a form of defence. Will gag, and whine, and pretend like this is the worst experience of your life.

But in the comedown of Jeongguk's chase, you both giggling, caught in an embrace that is far too close, sauce simmering away without a care, you'll notice the stars in his eyes again. Count the constellations. Forget how to breathe, as if you really are in space without any oxygen.

"You smell like a sweaty ballsack," you tell him with absolute certainty.

Yet your grip on his shirt doesn't ease.

"You look like a sweaty ballsack," he counters. Swallows.

Neither of you pull away. Apparently, you're both partial to a sweaty ballsack. Who'd have thought?

On a fundamental, human level, you're aware that Jeongguk doesn't smell great. He is sweaty and definitely has worn that shirt for like, three days in a row, but... you like it. Oh it's disgusting . Really fucking horrid. Rancid, even.

"Shower," he just says, softly, as if he's reminding himself of what he needs to do.

You nod. "Shower."

But your hands are still holding the sides of his shirt, and his eyes can't seem to focus on yours because they keep dropping to your lips, and then his breathing is all over the place and so is yours and - fuck .

Loosening your grip, you pat the front of his chest. He doesn't move. Just closes his eyes. Nods.

"I need to check the sauce," you whisper. "Go. Shower."

And so he does as he's told. You keep yourself busy tinkering about until you hear the shower start up - at which point, you rest your palms on the counter and let your head hang between your shoulders. Sigh deeper than Marianas Trench. Shake your head. "Stupid."

You're unaware, but he's doing the exact same thing by the bathroom sink.

It had been fine. It had been fun. Why did I have to linger like that? Why did I have to make things weird? Why am I always making things so awkward?

He tosses his clothes down on the pile by the door, his on top of yours, and instantly feels a little bit better when the water hits his skin. Tries not to dwell on it, 'cause if he pretends moments like those don't happen, he won't have to deal with them. Will gaslight himself into thinking it never happened.

You're on the couch by the time he's done with his shower, legs curled up, pasta cooked and waiting in a covered saucepan for him.

"Not eating?" he asks as he notices there's no evidence of you having pasta on the coffee table.

Glancing over to him, you're reminded of post-shower Jeongguk and why the concept of it is so dangerous for you. Towel wrapped around his waist, water trailing down his abs... Yeah. You lose your mind a little. Think that any sane human would also lose theirs.

"I, uh-" you pause. Swallow. "Um. Sorry. Eat?"

"Yeah," he smirks, a little bemused. Figures you were lost in the show you're watching. Still in his shirt, your hair is pretty much dry, now, slight waves framing your face while the rest of it is still pinned back in a claw clip. You really do need to decide what you're doing with the colour. The bleach is growing out far faster than you thought it would, but you can't commit yourself to getting rid of it. Jeongguk likes the slightly messy nature of it all. Thinks it suits you. "No pasta?"

"Oh," you enthuse when you realise what he was asking. "Was just waiting for you."

He apologises. Says you should have started without him. Says he wouldn't have minded it, and thanks you again for cooking. "Smells amazing."

Quick to throw on some clean clothes, Jeongguk shoos you out of the way when he gets back to the kitchen and finds you about to plate up. Insists he does it. You've done all the hard work. He's happy to wash up, but he wants to at least contribute now.

Jeongguk takes a single bite of the pasta before he stands up, retrieves the saucepan and a heat mat, then sets it down on the coffee table.

"You okay there?" you laugh, a little puzzled by him.

When he turns to look at you, as if you've betrayed him. "You never told me you could cook, B."

He had been expecting a regular, run-of-the-mill tomato pasta - nothing wrong with that, he would have enjoyed it - but this? Oh, this is as close to heaven as humans get through food. It's rich and spicy, but also a little sweet and tangy when it needs to be. The rigatoni is cooked just right. Just how he likes it.

"You can't?" You laugh, digging into your own bowl. Admittedly, it is banging. Your favourite comfort recipe, you're quietly overjoyed that he likes it.

He shakes his head to say no. Has always enjoyed cooking. Knows he'll have to make you his signature pork belly one day. If you end up staying tonight (which he's hoping you will, even if he is awful company at the moment), he'll cook breakfast.

"I can - I just... fuck me, Byeol," he almost moans. "This shit is good."

Jeongguk's always had a good stroke game, but when it comes to stroking your ego? Yeah, he ain't bad at that, either.

He also isn't bad at turning himself into a literal human hoover. It's a miracle he doesn't choke, or get heartburn. He's already nearly polished off the leftovers from the pan before you've even made it halfway through your bowl (of which he had filled to the brim, because portion control with a body like his doesn't apparently matter).

Pasta eaten - or in Jeongguk's case, absolutely demolished - he allows himself the luxury of switching off for the first time all week. Other than a quick gym session here and there, or coffee with Hayun towards the start of the week, he hasn't taken a moment to relax at all.

You're rabbiting on about something inconsequential, just letting him exist. You know it's been a hard week. The television plays in the background, big light turned off, your feet in his lap. He stokes a little mindlessly over your ankle, self-soothing for him and just as comforting for you. He's meant to be listening, but zoned a little while ago.

Initially, he was thinking about the weird moment between you both in the kitchen earlier, but tried to get it out of his head.

Ends up thinking about the BEM twat you mentioned earlier, instead. Thinks you've got horrible taste in men - or at least, in hookups. He knows both he and Jimin could be classified in that category, but he disregards that. Or at least, he disregards himself .

At least he makes you orgasm. If he asks, will probably be horrified by the amount of times you've gone without one during intercourse. It's not always, but often. Never with him though, which is nice.

Scares you a little bit. The idea of the best sex of your life being with someone who isn't romantically involved with you just doesn't sit right. What if you fall in love and Jeongguk is still the best you've ever had? Will you be comparing? It's a variable you're yet to test out. One that worries you.

But all Jeongguk can think about is the fact that you're his friend. And he cares about you. And he thinks you deserve to feel good. And knows he can do that. And that he wants to do that. And so, quite suddenly, Jeongguk interrupts you.

"Can I get you off?"

You almost choke on your own spit. Had been explaining a new discovery of ancient mammals using tools for hunting and cooking. Not the most enticing topic of conversation, to say the least.

"Sorry?" You laugh, taken aback by the sudden request.

He looks away. Looks at his hands. Looks back at you. Wishes he wouldn't let the impulsive thoughts win, sometimes.

But then, because apparently he's a fucking idiot with no self-control, he asks again. "Can I get you off?"

The answer is always, unabashedly, yes . You've been caught off guard though. Panic. Ask, "Why?"

He shrugs. Looks at his hands again, eyes wide, brows furrowed. Wants to pour boiling water in his ear to melt his brain. Would probably work better if it was mush, he thinks. A reply to your question sits on the tip of your tongue, but there are too many variations for him to choose from - Because you deserve it. Because I'm horny. Because I want to. - so he just says: "fun."

And, like, he's not wrong. It is fun. You just thought it would be the last thing on his mind, given how stressed and sleepy he's been.

"I mean, do you want to?" you laugh, a little hot beneath the shirts of his that you're wearing by the mere suggestion of it.

He shrugs. Thinks it's a stupid question. Nods. "Get your minge out."

The horror plastered all over your face wouldn't be out of place in a Hitchcock film.

"Get my minge out?!" You hiss, your repulsion only second to shock.

"Yeah," he smirks. Is deliberately being vulgar because it's funny, and he needs this to be anything but romantic. Will lose his fucking head if he starts thinking about stars and constellations and shit like that again - but fuck . Even after a shower, you're covered in glitter! He can never fuckin' win. Is in a constant state of war with his own head. How can he ever expect to win against the milky way in human form? You'll eclipse him one day, and he'll enjoy every second of it.

"It's almost like you don't want me to get wet," you tell him, as if you didn't feel a slight twinge in your stomach when he smirked. Wasn't your fault. His lip ring did the thing. You're only human. Was bound to happen.

"I think you're already wet," he says all rather plainly.

"That's beyond the point."

It's a satisfying answer. One that makes him feel all smug. Gets his cock a little twitchy.

"Look, I'm stressed, B," he admits. "There's so much going on in my head that I can't think straight. Getting you off is, like, a stress reliever."

You furrow your brows. "Surely getting yourself off is a stress reliever?"

"I can do that at the same time, if you want?" He says, cheeky in the way he raises his eyebrows and toys with his lip ring.

"You are such a boy."

"So is that a no?"

That's the thing about you and Jeongguk; you'll never reject him.

In fact, it's probably quite futile for his whole fear of rejection thing. That'll be a thought to battle with later, though.

"It's an 'ask nicely' ."

Jeongguk gently squeezes your ankle, before getting to his feet and piling the pasta bowls into a neat stack. "Let me just wash up, alright?"

You watch him as he walks away not even waiting for a response. He does it often; wants your approval of things he's already determined to do. It's sweet, in a way. Could be frustrating, given the right circumstances, but it hasn't been so far. You just kinda keep your gaze on him, confused at how a man so reserved and cautious in one moment can be so reckless and charming in the next.

"Byeol?" He hums, flicking on the tap and reaching for the dish soap.

"Hmm?" You hum right back.

"Go wait in my room."

It takes you a second or so to follow his commands. Earns a minuscule plea from him. "Please, B."

You can't refuse him. Not really. Never have been able to.

His room is still a mess. Glitter-tarnished pillows clue you into the fact that he hasn't washed his sheets since new years - but then you remember the fact he definitely changed the bottom sheet. Colour floods to your cheeks, memories of that night crashing to the forefront of your mind.

You try to forget about it. Forget the kisses. Forget the way it sounds when Jeongguk calls you ' baby '.

This? Now? Nothing more than a stress reliever. ' Fun '.

You neaten up his bed, and tuck the takeout boxes out of sight. Turn on his cosmic mood lamp, but leave the curtains open. You preen yourself in his mirror. Realise there's something missing, so retrieve the little pot of glitter from his shelf.

The remains of the day's glitter are all over your skin, but the shower had cleansed your eyes of it. Makes you feel naked. You hate it - so quickly stipple a little in your inner corners and beneath your lash line.

It's funny. When you take off the shirt of his that you're wearing, and toss it over the back of his chair a moment later, you don't feel naked. Feel perfectly yourself. A glitter girlie through and through.

Jeongguk stops in his tracks as soon as he reaches his door frame. You're standing on the other side of his bed, a coy smile on your lips

"Fuck."

His eyes are all over you, tongue wetting his bottom lip before his teeth press down on it. Something about your body really gets him. It's likely the memories - knowing how your skin tastes, how soft your tits are and how hard your nipples can get, the pressure of your lips on his neck - that gets him even stiffer in his sweats.

He really underestimated the consequences of telling you to get your minge out. Should have thought about that.

"You're gonna kill me one day," he mutters as you get onto the bed with almost feline elegance. He walks a little closer. Meets you by the corner of his mattress. Doesn't object as you palm him through his sweats. Sighs into your touch. "God."

Perfectly poised to suck his dick, you both know that you could. He wants it. Wants it so badly he can't even begin to articulate a request.

But it's not about him. Not even when your lips press pretty kisses against the outline of his cock.

He's making you cum. He has to. Will die if he doesn't.

"On your back," he husks. "Spread your legs for me."

There's a pout on your lips, but you do as he says. When your back hits his sheets, your tits pillow on your chest, perfectly round and desperately in need of his lips around your nipples. Legs open for him, one of your hands dips to your pussy while the other cups one of your boobs. Middle and forefinger spreading your wet lips for him, you feign a little innocence.

"This what you want?"

All he can do is nod, eyes transfixed on just how good you look. Wetness seeps from you, covering you in the most glorious sheen. You're always so wet for him. So ready. So willing.

You massage yourself a little for him. Toy with your clit. Whine probably more than you really need to.

Standing at the end of his bed, cock furiously hard in the strained material of his sweats, Jeongguk wraps his hands around your ankles. Yanks you further down his bed. Gets you all giggly.

He doesn't loosen his grip straight away. Instead, he lifts your legs. Rests your heels on his shoulders. Reaches down to squeeze your boobs. Grunts. "Fuckin' tits, man."

You're grinning, still. "What of them?"

He shakes his head. Grins, too. "Fuckin' corrupted me."

"You want them in your mouth again, don't you?" You tease - but are quickly put back in your place when Jeongguk sinks a finger into your hot cunt. "Fuck."

"Keep playing with yourself," he says, before getting all shy. He's about to admit how much he likes your tits. Again . As if you don't already know. Cringes. Tilts his head to the side, nose nestling against your foot. Smiles. Looks back at you with shame and sin all over his starry features. Sinks a second finger into you. "Yeah, I wanna suck them. So fuckin' bad."

His fingers are slow as they work their way into you. In. Out. Push. Pull. It's heaven. Slow. Deep. Just like Jeongguk's eyes and the way they study the pleasure on your face. He's taking his time.

You draw dainty little circles on your clit, not wanting to take the focus away from the feeling of his fingers. The combination is lethal; the furrowing of Jeongguk's brows a trigger that could set you off at any given moment.

Something about his work ethic really gets you. He puts his all into the things he does. Wants to be the best. Endeavours to always get top marks. The way he's cramming for his exam? Yeah. It's hot. His determination? His drive? So incredibly sexy. It comes as no surprise that he's got similar prowess for making you come undone. He reads your body. Understands that the tight closing of your eyes is pleasure, not pain. Knows that the flexing of your calves against his chest, the pointing of your toes by his ears, means he's stroking at the right spot; curling his fingers just right.

His spare hand strokes up your leg. Grips your ankle, his thumb lacing itself beneath your anklet. Your head pushes back into his sheets, spine arching for him.

"Yeah?" he encourages as he continues stroking up against your front wall. "Does it feel good?"

Eyes still closed, you nod. Whimper.

A little more pressure on your clit would make you come. You aren't doing it 'cause you want this feeling to last, but you're already so close. He knows exactly how to get you on edge. Finds your weak points and exploits them for his own pleasure; the satisfaction of giving you an orgasm.

"Good," he husks, pressing his lips against the side of your foot, just cause he needs to do something with them. Fucks his fingers into a little deeper. Slower. Is dulcet as he says, "wanna fuck you so bad."

"Do it," you whine. "Fuck me. Please."

You can hear the tiny little nose breath he does as a soft smirk graces his lips. Can feel them against your foot as he shakes his head and whispers, "no."

You whine. Pout. "Gguk-"

But then he builds speed. Is so fast you can barely breathe let alone speak. Makes your entire body shake.

"That's it," he keens. "Keep rubbing your clit. You're gonna cum for me."

"Gguk."

"You're gonna cum."

Thing is, it's not a command. It's an observation. He can feel you getting tighter; feel the familiar clamp of your hot muscles against his long fingers. Knows that this is what precedes heaven on earth.

All you can do is nod. "Gonna cum."

Your hips roll up into his touch, desperate to be as full of him as you can be. As you press down on your clit, the way Jeongguk shallows his finger to directly hit your g-spot has you mewling. His fingers are fast as he repeatedly motions them upwards, the knot in your stomach growing tight and tighter and tighter - until, gradually, eventually, but all very suddenly, the rope snaps entirely.

Your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, throbbing walls tightening around Jeongguk's fingers, your spare hand grabbing at his wrist to both stop him and keep him in place. It's too much and not enough all at the same time. You continue applying pressure to your clit as writhe in his sheets.

Jeongguk watches on, jaw slack, eyes hungry. He could watch this all day; how the creases between your brows don't ease, not even when your lips curl into a smile. How your chest heaves, and your legs jolt. God. He wishes you were a part of his exam. He'd pass with flying colours.

"You good?" He asks a little too fondly, smiling down at you.

Laughing to yourself a little, you cover your eyes with your forearm. Nod. "Good."

But you're also not done.

There's a plethora of sticky notes on his wall, and you're pretty sure Jeongguk hasn't had a release in a fair few days. He needs this more than you.

And so when you tell him to pick a sticky note, he doesn't waste time. Goes for one at waist level - figures you probably put it up, not him.

Turning back to face you, the sticky note affixed to his index finger as he reads it, his brows furrow. Face contorts. Head tilts to the side.

"What the fuck is an erotic accordion?"

—

"I don't ever wanna see you in that position again," Jeongguk shudders, decidedly not finding anything erotic about being positioned like a fucking accordion.

The mechanics of it all just do not do it for him. It's not even so much the awkwardness of you, but himself. Didn't like seeing himself in that position. Has never been so aware of his own legs during a shag. Weirded him out.

You snort. "Please - I think it was the least sexually attracted to you I've ever been."

Jeongguk toys with his lip ring, tattooed arm folded across his chest, sheets pooling just beneath his belly button. Back against his headrest, all of his pillows are on the floor. They'd just gotten in the way earlier.

You're on your back, legs up against his headrest, both mirroring and subverting his position. On top of the sheets, you're wearing one of his shirts to cover your modesty.

"So you admit it," he teases with a raise of his eyebrows as you look over towards him. Wish there were still pillows on his bed so you could hit him with one. "You do think I'm hot."

"Not when you're positioned like that," you tease right back.

It's all in good humour. Neither of you are taking any offence. The whole point of these sticky notes is to find out what you do and don't like - the erotic accordion? Yeah. You'll file that one under 'not again'.

Although the more Jeongguk thinks about it, the more open he is to it.

"Felt pretty good, though."

The position, which had been one of your sticky notes, involved him laying on his back with his knees to his chest. The thought of it now makes you giggle. He looked quite cute, all things considered. Submissive. Shy.

He's got that pensive face of his on, looking straight ahead at his desk. There's an assignment open on his dual screens, and he does need to get back to it soon, but he's making the most of a short break with you.

His lips ring does the thing as he nibbles down on his bottom lip.

You move your leg a little to tap his head with your foot, getting his attention.

"Mhm?" he hums, eyes still unfocused.

"Did it really feel good?"

He nods. Looks at you now. Smirks, but tries to hide it. Shrugs his broad shoulders, collar bones catching on the light of his monitors. Dark outside, they're the only thing lighting up the room now that his lamp is turned off.

"Can't get that deep," he simply states. "There's, like, a lot going on around the tip. It's the most sensitive part, isn't it? So yeah."

You've always been a deep penetration girlie, but even you have to admit the shallowness of his cock pushing into only just your entrance before pulling out again felt really nice. Completely different to what you're used to - especially from him.

Glancing down his chest to where his hand rests over his crotch, you assess the situation. The sheets cover him, but you know he's a little hard beneath them.

You adjust slightly. Press your thighs together, heels against his wall.

With a hearty sign, you feign a little boredom. "Fine. I'll fuck you again."

"Sorry?" He almost giggles. Teeth on show, nose a little scrunched, he doesn't understand you, sometimes. Enjoys it, though. Likes how you aren't taking the sticky notes seriously.

It alleviates him of the pressure that would come with doing these things with anyone else, he thinks.

He knows that's the whole point of them - try these things with you, so that he doesn't have to fear rejection of asking for them with anyone else - but he's surprised at how well it seems to work.

Then again, he's not yet put any of them into practice.

Unaware of his complex thoughts, yours are far more simple: you're still horny.

The accordion really isn't all that erotic. You didn't finish. Didn't care for reciprocation, 'cause Jeongguk's got a wall full of sticky notes, and it's only just gone midnight. You know you'll be coming undone at least once more tonight - if Jeongguk's track record is anything to go by, it'll be plenty more.

Tapping his head with your foot again, you smile as his hand wraps around your ankle.

"Stop," he mumbles, nose resting on the top of your foot, lips pressing against the side of it.

You bite down on your bottom lip, a little flustered from heavenly his chocolatey eyes appear. He keeps his grip on your ankle and pulls it over his lap, encouraging your body to twist. Dragging you to straddle him, reverse cowgirl style, Jeongguk isn't shy about the fact he's hard again.

"You're so easy," you simper, slinking down like a cat, back a little arched, arms straight out ahead of you. His hands push his shirt up, and grips the soft flesh of your hips, pulling you a little further up his lap. You automatically find yourself grinding a little against him. Force of habit.

"Me?" He murmurs, gripping your ass now. He's a little rough with it. Fingers strong. You half think he's gonna spank you - but then he sinks his middle finger straight into your cunt. Still wet and wanting after the sex, Jeongguk enjoys teasing you. Likes keeping you keen. It's fun. He pulls the entire length of his finger out from you. Licks it clean. Keeps his hushed groan quiet. Fingers you again. Pulls out, again. The sound of him intruding and leaving is so satisfying. He does it again. Again, again. You're a little whimpery. "I'm the easy one?"

"Mhmm," you whine as he pushes into you again, still a single, long finger. He holds it there this time. "So easy."

The way you're positioned right now has him wanting to act on his ass-guy impulses. You kind of knew it would. He got you into this position far too easily for it not to have been something he's perfected over the years.

"Can I?" He husks, not wanting to ask the full question, hoping you'll understand.

You do. You know exactly what he wants. Wanna give him the green light without hesitation - but you're supposed to be helping one another.

"Ask properly," you say, voice contorted with the anticipation of pleasure. "Ask for what you want, Jeongguk."

"Mhh," he groans. The hand that isn't currently occupied with your pussy squeezes the soft mound of your ass. "I hate it when you make me do this."

It's almost like he's forgotten how often he makes you directly ask for things.

Your hips roll for him, Jeongguk's fingers still inside. Can't help but moan. "Gotta do it, Gguk. Gotta open yourself up for rejection."

He knows you won't say no. Knows rejection isn't on the table here, and yet he sort of worries about it, still. This is something he wants. Something he's expressed desire in; exclusively his.

Jeongguk lowers his head. Presses a kiss to where his hand was once squeezing your ass. Rests his forehead there. Groans.

"You know I want it," you husk, encouraging him. "All you gotta do is ask. Use your big boy words."

He just whines again. Is deliberately dramatic when he says, "Don't say shit like that, Byeol. I'll cum in my pants."

With a soft laugh, you turn back to look at him. Your faces are both partially obscured by the positioning of your body, but your eyes are able to meet. He's pouting. Eyes wide. Looks as if he's telling gospel truths.

"You're not gonna cum in your pants," you tell him, knowing he's a big fat liar. He's probably not even ready to go again, yet.

"No," he admits. "But I might die.

Rolling your eyes, you grin as you regain your former position. "So you want your dying words to be that of a coward, huh?"

He sighs. Knows you're right. Fucks his finger into you even deeper, stroking at your walls. Gets you a little whiney .

"Wanna eat your ass, " he gruffs, spreading your cheeks a little with his spare hand. You're on display for him, the tight muscle he's dying to get his tongue on just waiting there patiently; pristine. "Let me. Please ."

And then, quite unexpectedly, you free yourself from his grip. Pull away.

Turn to face him, and smile with a grin Jeongguk knows is trouble.

"No."

Lips hanging ajar, Jeongguk looks like he's just been hit in the chest with a paintball gun. He almost wants to question it - No? What do you mean no? - but he knows exactly what no means. Respects it. And yet he feels a little cheated.

"B..." is all he says, because, like, what the fuck? You'd practically been edging him. Forced him to ask .

"Gguk..." you tease back, obviously finding this far more amusing than he is.

His face is a picture, confusion contorting his features, silence speaking for him. It's the reaction you expected, but it makes you feel a lot more guilty than you had anticipated. It's not that you're trying to be a dick. You really did want him to do it.

But Jeongguk is also yet to face any form of rejection. The girls he's spoken to have been interested in him. Not once has he faced any sizable consequence to his questions or actions, and even though you know that asking to eat your ass isn't exactly the top of his issues, you have to reject him. Have to get him used to the feeling. Have to let him get comfortable with it.

He doesn't really know what to do. Purses his lips. Nods. Is obviously disappointed, but trying his best not to let it show.

You feel guilty. Come a little closer. Straddle his lap again, and guide his chin so that his gaze is directly on yours.

He resists at first. Is embarrassed. Feels all horrible inside. It's even worse that his cock is still hard. The entire thing is a bit mortifying. Doesn't wanna look at you, 'cause he feels stupid. Must have misread the situation. Idiot.

But he hadn't misread it all.

You hadn't planned on doing that. Just kind of had an impulsive thought - what if I do reject him? - and let it win.

"That was mean," he whispers so quietly that you almost don't hear it.

You nod, noses nudging against his. "It was."

"Say sorry," he pouts.

When you smile, a small giggle is held back. "I'm sorry. Should I kiss you?" you offer. He pulls you a little further up his lap. Makes you think a kiss is coming. "To say sorry?"

Closer, closer, closer. His nose nudges up against yours. He pauses. "No."

It's direct. To the point. Gets you in your chest a little. Rejection . Funny little thing.

"I wasn't trying to be a dick. There is a sticky note with it on, Koo," you begin to explain. Jeongguk hates how loopy that name makes his tummy feel. "It's gonna happen. I want it to happen."

Yet you didn't let it. He doesn't get it. Doesn't understand. It's a rare instance of your communication going awry.

"You made me ask," he mumbles, pouting. "And then you..."

You stay silent. Wait for him to figure it out. It takes only a second or so. You know he's cracked it when his thumbs begin to stroke against your skin like it normally does.

"And then I rejected you," you nod. Feel incredibly guilty about it now.

Living through rejection in times of vulnerability is important for him. He needs to process that it's okay; that rejection isn't automatic doom and gloom. That he can put himself out and not fear rejection - not because it will never happen, but because he can recognise that life goes on after it.

And it does. For now, though, he's still a little embarrassed.

"I hate that you did that," he says candidly, voice quiet, nose nestled against yours. Wants to stay close. Wants the comfort that comes with it. Eyes shut, his confidence feels shot to shit.

On a normal day, he'd probably not be so concerned about it all - however his emotions are running high. It's just the stress, but it's impacting all of his interactions.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I know," he whispers right back. He genuinely does believe you are - but also believes you shouldn't have to apologise for saying no. "It's okay. 'No' is okay. You can say sorry for being a meanie, but that's all. Can't say sorry for saying 'no' , okay?"

Oh, you've never wanted to kiss him more. Give him the biggest, sweetest smooch for just being so inexorably endearing.

But you just nod. He'd said 'no' to kisses earlier.

Life goes on. Jeongguk knows this. Repeats it like an oath.

Life goes on. Life goes on. Life goes on.

"Two choices," he says. Pulls away a little. Wants to look in your starry eyes, and forget what just happened. "Choice one - we call it a night and get some sleep."

"Or?" you encourage, still feeling a little awful about the whole rejection thing.

"Or, choice two - you go and pick a sticky note, this time. We do whatever it says."

If there's one thing for certain, it's that you love a good redemption arc. Think this is a no-brainer. You hop off his lap without a second thought and pluck one off the wall at random.

Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip as he watches you. His head is all over the place, but he knows one definite truth: you make things feel okay .

Embarrassment? It's null and void, with you. Sure, he feels it in the moment, but it always just simmers away. Disappears.

"So?" he asks, as you scan over the words of the note.

It's Jeongguk's handwriting. Is deserved, you think.

You turn it around for him to read, getting back into position on his lap. He welcomes you back, Holds your waist as you intrude on his personal space more - but is it really intruding if he's opening the door for you? Welcoming you in?

"Ah," he grins a little awkwardly. " That ."

" That ," you echo with a small giggle.

"You wanna do it?" he asks, a little cautiously this time.

You're so proud.

He opened himself for rejection again . He can do it.

With a nod, and every muscle in your body willing your lips not to kiss him, you say, "yeah. I do."

Jeongguk grins even brighter, now. Has stars in his smile. Thoughts of twenty minutes prior don't bother him anymore.

"Alright," he sighs a little, as if he isn't secretly really keen for what's yet to come. "Let's get it."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#bad decisions #jungkook smut

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