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nochuwild child
jikook
259 words
jeon jungkook is a self-proclaimed wild child. he's the definition of tall dark and handsome, he drinks too much at parties and is allergic to absolutely any and all forms of commitment. jimin knows this.
jimin knows this from the first time that he sees him. he knows it in the way that jungkook styles himself, the way that he carries himself. he knows it because no one should be able to wear leather pants to a fucking college party without looking ridiculous, because he flits between people like a butterfly looking for the sweetest pollen, greedy to drink it up and never satisfied, kohl rimmed eyes dark and simple in what they're looking for. jungkook is the type to get everyone talking, the type to ruin friendships. jungkook is the type to not spare jimin a second glance, or even a first one, not even in the cafeteria, the library, the crowded hallway between lectures.
jimin knows this, but it doesn't stop him from being infatuated anyway. it doesn't keep him from watching the way that he moves, the way that he talks, the way that he smiles. it doesn't stop the way that he finally decides to do something about it, the liquid courage that makes him approach, stutter through what he hopes is a flirty introduction even though he has that sinking feeling in his stomach from the start, even though he just knows that it isn't going to work out. it doesn't stop him from letting jungkook tug him upstairs even though he looks a little too fazed to be all there, doesn't stop him from enjoying it, from deciding that it has to be the best fucking night of his life - or at least, the best hour.
jungkook is a wild child, and jimin knows this. he knows this but it doesn't stop him from feeling a sting somewhere when jungkook pushes off of the bed once it's done, when he pulls on his shirt and fastens his jeans, throws one more smirk his way before he's slipping out the door and the only way jimin knows it was real and not some horrible, beautiful drunk mirage is the purpling bruise at the curve of his neck.
it doesn't mean anything. jimin knows this, but it doesn't stop him from feeling a rock in the pit of his stomach when his eyes inevitably catch back up with tall dark and handsome not even an hour later, like he's been trained to do it, too good at spotting him to shut it out. it doesn't stop his insides with souring when he realizes it's taehyung who's got him pressed against the doorframe, and he thinks that maybe it's a good thing that he's a little bit invisible when he ducks back into the kitchen for another shot - or three.
yoongi catches up to him and jimin is embarrassed. he tries to hide it behind a smile and a shot glass, even when the shorter, much more sober man makes an offhand comment about jungkook being an asshole to try and make him feel better.
"he's a wild child," jimin says, offers a grin and shrugs like it's nothing. because he knows this. and yet the burn in his chest is still more than the alcohol when he knocks back another, and starts to tell himself that maybe it would be better if he didn't.
jikook
259 words
jeon jungkook is a self-proclaimed wild child. he's the definition of tall dark and handsome, he drinks too much at parties and is allergic to absolutely any and all forms of commitment. jimin knows this.
jimin knows this from the first time that he sees him. he knows it in the way that jungkook styles himself, the way that he carries himself. he knows it because no one should be able to wear leather pants to a fucking college party without looking ridiculous, because he flits between people like a butterfly looking for the sweetest pollen, greedy to drink it up and never satisfied, kohl rimmed eyes dark and simple in what they're looking for. jungkook is the type to get everyone talking, the type to ruin friendships. jungkook is the type to not spare jimin a second glance, or even a first one, not even in the cafeteria, the library, the crowded hallway between lectures.
jimin knows this, but it doesn't stop him from being infatuated anyway. it doesn't keep him from watching the way that he moves, the way that he talks, the way that he smiles. it doesn't stop the way that he finally decides to do something about it, the liquid courage that makes him approach, stutter through what he hopes is a flirty introduction even though he has that sinking feeling in his stomach from the start, even though he just knows that it isn't going to work out. it doesn't stop him from letting jungkook tug him upstairs even though he looks a little too fazed to be all there, doesn't stop him from enjoying it, from deciding that it has to be the best fucking night of his life - or at least, the best hour.
jungkook is a wild child, and jimin knows this. he knows this but it doesn't stop him from feeling a sting somewhere when jungkook pushes off of the bed once it's done, when he pulls on his shirt and fastens his jeans, throws one more smirk his way before he's slipping out the door and the only way jimin knows it was real and not some horrible, beautiful drunk mirage is the purpling bruise at the curve of his neck.
it doesn't mean anything. jimin knows this, but it doesn't stop him from feeling a rock in the pit of his stomach when his eyes inevitably catch back up with tall dark and handsome not even an hour later, like he's been trained to do it, too good at spotting him to shut it out. it doesn't stop his insides with souring when he realizes it's taehyung who's got him pressed against the doorframe, and he thinks that maybe it's a good thing that he's a little bit invisible when he ducks back into the kitchen for another shot - or three.
yoongi catches up to him and jimin is embarrassed. he tries to hide it behind a smile and a shot glass, even when the shorter, much more sober man makes an offhand comment about jungkook being an asshole to try and make him feel better.
"he's a wild child," jimin says, offers a grin and shrugs like it's nothing. because he knows this. and yet the burn in his chest is still more than the alcohol when he knocks back another, and starts to tell himself that maybe it would be better if he didn't.