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“...Happy birthday to you!”
The croons of your friends and family combine in a squeaky, albeit heartwarming, birthday song rendition. Your cheeks ache from smiling through their singing, a little overwhelmed by attention on you and your beautifully decorated birthday cake.
The atmosphere in your apartment’s kitchen is nostalgic. It almost reminds you of childhood birthday parties: children packed in around a dining table, party hats, streamers, the works. Your best friend sits to your left and claps and whoops loudly after the conclusion of your birthday song. Across the table, standing up and recording the moment on her iPhone camera, your mother tucks her device into her jeans pocket and claps her hands together. Evidently, it’s time for birthday gifts.
You’re handed present upon present, wrapping paper flying left and right. Your baby cousin (who’s not-so-baby these days) is ecstatic to announce that she saved up her coins to get you a stuffed animal and some candy from Five Below. A couple of friends pooled their efforts to get you a beautiful set of Tiffany & Co. earrings with your birthstone. Your best friend hands you a delicately wrapped photocard binder, complete with six brand-new BTS photocards.
Since you were young, the two of you have adored BTS. You both finally acquired tickets to see them on the Map of The Soul tour back in 2020 but, because of the pandemic, weren’t able to see them. You’d both been devastated, to say the least.
Your best friend proudly boasts a BTS Twitter fan page and Tumblr account, and she’ll tell anyone who will listen, uncaring of any potential judgement. You admire her confidence, decidedly sticking to watching TikTok edits of your bias, Jungkook, and consuming a healthy amount of fanfiction. God forbid a girl enjoy some light reading!
You shuffle through a few more kind gifts: an Amazon gift card from a friend, a twenty-dollar bill from your aunt who lives out of town, a heartfelt card from your grandmother.
Last but not least, you turn to your mother, who is still standing across the table. Her hands wring together lightly. You raise an eyebrow. All these years with her confirm that her nervous habit is hiding something big. You’re nervous at the implication.
“Okay, my love,” she begins, hands still rubbing together, “here is my gift to you!”
She hands over a light purple card, sealed with a heart sticker. It’s cute, in your mother’s typical style of gift. Your heart jumps with excitement. For a second, you feel like a teenager again, selfishly hoping to get that cliché car key for your sixteenth birthday.
Peeling back the seal of the envelope reveals a card and two slips of paper. Polite as ever, you pull the card out to read first. It’s a minimalist card, lavender to match the envelope, and reads a simple “happy birthday to you” on the front. Inside, your mother has scrawled out a sweet message, her looping script reminiscent of a certain letter from Santa you received as a kid. You smile softly, tears pricking the edges of your eyes at the kind words she’s written, and at the nostalgia crawling up your throat.
I hope you enjoy your gift, bug. I know you both will have the time of your lives!
The card’s last sentences send a shiver down your spine. You glance sideways at your best friend, who the card references. She smirks like she knows something you don’t.
You look at your mother, who’s beaming through her own water-lined eyes. She nods eagerly at the card, and you obey her request by delicately removing the remaining slips of paper.
BTS WORLD TOUR: ARIRANG
VIP Soundcheck Tickets
Floor A, Standing Admission
Your jaw drops. You read the words again. And then again, willing them to make sense in your scrambled brain. The tension in the air is palpable as your family and friends await your reaction.
“So, what do you think?”
You rip your eyes from the tickets to your best friend’s wide eyes.
“We’re going to see BTS!” You exclaim, effectively breaking the silence and smiling so wide your eyes squeeze shut. Your best friend lets out a cackle, and the pair of you jump from your seat into an aggressive embrace. Your mother claps as you scream excitedly.
~
It’s concert day. You can’t believe it. You and your friend are up and out of your hotel obscenely early, but you couldn’t be happier.
You’re seeing BTS. Like, the BTS. At soundcheck. In standing VIP, where you could very well be in the first row. If it’s up to your best friend, you’ll surely be snuggled up to the barricade.
It’s a beautiful day in the city. The sun is just rising in the cloudless sky and there’s a light breeze to cool you down. A handful of ARMYs are riddled about the streets and around the stadium (your hotel is just down the street; thanks, Mom!).
Fortunately for your best friend, who intends to queue all day for the best possible tickets, only about twenty fellow fans are in line already. The pair of you stop by to get your queue number written on your hands. You’re VIP eighteen and nineteen, thank you very much!
The pair of you excitedly chatter between yourselves as you sit in line outside of the stadium. You receive a handful of freebies from other girls in the line and curse your past selves for not making any of your own.
You pass the next few hours casually, trying to prolong the excitement for the concert without getting too exhausted from nerves. Your best friend runs over to the merch stall to take a look. You grab a coffee and some pastries from a cafe across the street. A friend you made in line explains why she knows exactly what the surprise songs will be.
You and your best friend feel slightly old in the crowd of teenagers queueing but embrace the fan culture nevertheless. It’s been years since you two indulged in these girlish tendencies. It feels nice.
Before you know it, you’ve gotten your VIP wristbands, queued up in order, and are shuffled into the stadium for soundcheck. Your best friend fights her way to the barricade, gripping the metal bar like it’s her lifeline. You squeal.
You’re buzzing with excitement but are still able to watch the younger girls losing their minds around you with the warmth of an older sister. You and your best friend share a wild smile among the chaos.
What do you mean we got barricade at a BTS concert?!
You stop trying to stifle the excitement even though the concert is still hours away. Your best friend lets out a shriek every time the music echoing around the stadium changes. Every time the two of you meet eyes, you resist the urge to jump up and down.
Finally, the screams and cheers around you grow louder as seven figures emerge onto the stage. You’re shaking with excitement. There, barely ten feet in front of you, is Hoseok. Behind him, Jimin and Yoongi wave at fans on the other side of the stage. Namjoon’s doing laps around the stage. Taehyung tosses an American football to a male fan to your right. Your best friend screams when Seokjin, her bias, rounds the 360 stage to your side. He laughs, pointing at her and waving wildly.
You can’t believe this is happening.
At last, Jungkook shuffles to your side of the stage. You are well aware of his good looks. He’s your bias, for God’s sake! But, something is different in person. You can see the lines around his nose when he smiles. His shining earrings and his slim waist, which is revealed every time he lifts a tattooed arm to wave at the audience. Despite yourself, you blush wildly every time he looks your way.
In real life, his skin is tan and impossibly smooth. His wide eyes sparkle in the summer light. You swallow. His dark jeans are baggy, but they somehow still hug his lithe figure perfectly. As you’re admiring him with a smile, his eyes catch yours, and your heart leaps out of your chest.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Surely he’s not looking at you. Right?
Nope, he definitely is. He sends a cute wink your way, followed by his signature smile. You flush furiously but maintain eye contact. A young girl to your right is screaming.
“Oh my gosh! Guys! He winked at me!” She shrieks, drawing you out of your staring contest with the idol just in front of you. You laugh, wrapping an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder in excitement. You turn the other way, to your best friend, who’s recording the whole exchange on her phone. She raises an eyebrow at you, pressing her lips together and widening her eyes. There’s a mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes both of you laugh again.
When you turn back to the stage, Jungkook is still looking at you.
~
Soundcheck is over in the blink of an eye, leaving an adrenaline crash in its wake. Everyone has gone silent, sitting against the barricade to avoid the sun. It’s getting hot in the stadium as the day trudges on. Your best friend leans her head on your shoulder.
“I’m fucking buzzing, bro,” she says. You laugh, because, yeah, so are you. Maybe for more reasons than just excitement.
Your mind is running a hundred-miles-a-minute. Jungkook winked at you. And then stared at you. You’re positive you didn’t misread it. You’ve had enough eye-tag experiences in a bar or a club to know when a guy is looking at you in some type of way. You’re not stupid, though. Idols like BTS are trained to know how to have that effect on their fans.
Even so… a part of you can’t help but wonder if there was some real emotion behind his stare.
“Same, ugh!” You reply to your friend after a prolonged pause, “I wish we could take a nap before the concert!”
The pair of you laugh.
“Why don’t you ask your man if we can crash in their dressing room, Mrs. Jeon Jungkook?” Your friend lowers her voice as she teases you. There’s a hint of truth behind her words, though. You blush.
“Babe, he was so looking at you!”
“Yeah, right. It’s called fan service.”
“I don’t know, if I was him, and I saw that,” she gestures to your body, wiggling her eyebrows and licking her lips obscenely, “I’d stare, too.”
You laugh loudly, drawing the attention of the girls in your vicinity. You lay your head on top of hers.
“In my dreams.”
~
The concert was insane. Despite the amount of concerts you’ve seen in your time on Earth, this one wins by a mile. The energy, the dancing, the music. Everything was so well done. They played your favorite BTS song as one of the surprise songs, a deep-cut from an early album, and as the seven men leave the stage after “Into The Sun,” you grip the metal bar of the barricade for support.
Your best friend is doing the same, hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and a tired but elated smile gracing her features. You’re not sure if you’ve ever jumped that much at a concert before. The crowd roars behind you.
“I cannot believe that just happened!” She exclaims after the crowd quiets down and the stadium lights come on, leading the way to the exit. You agree with a laugh, pulling her into a hug and forcing her to jump up and down with you.
A tap on your shoulder has you whirling around, best friend in tow, just one arm against her back as you turn.
“Excuse me, ladies?” A security guard flanks a man dressed in all black and a cap. They’ve made their way towards you through the venue staff who are taking down the barricade as fans leave the stadium. You smile awkwardly.
“Oh, sorry! We’ll get out of your way!” You say, assuming they need you to move so they can finish taking down the metal fence. He shakes his head with a smirk.
“No worries. Do you two mind coming with me for a moment?” He looks sideways quickly at the thinning crowd of ARMY. You exchange a glance with your best friend, whose eyebrows have shot up her forehead.
“Uh, sure,” you say, a little nervous. You let your best friend follow the man and his security guard first before following. You clasp your hands together in front of you. Did something happen? Did you break a stadium rule or something? Did another fan report you? You know you’d been jumping around during the concert… maybe they’d told a security guard that you were causing a disruption? Or maybe your mother booked the wrong tickets and you and your friend were there illegally!
The man leads you both into an area underneath the stage. It’s much quieter here, but you can still make out the chatter and lingering screams of the other fans outside. There are fans blowing cool air into the makeshift room, settling your nerves a bit as your body settles down.
“Is everything okay?” You ask quietly, anxiety likely showing on your face. Your best friend grabs your hand in hers, squeezing. The man in the cap smiles and laughs lightly. Your eyes widen unconsciously.
“Yes! Yes, everything’s fine,” he says, “I’m Kim Sejin. I’m one of the managers for the group.”
Your best friend squeezes your hand in hers. You can practically feel her stress. Or maybe it’s just your own. You both introduce yourselves formally, bowing lightly to the man.
“Oh, there’s no need for that,” he smiles reassuringly. You both smile tightly. What’s happening?
“Listen, I’ll cut straight to the chase. The boys would love it if you two would join them backstage for a bit.”
Your jaw drops. There is literally no way. Your best friend is similarly silent. Kim Sejin continues.
“If you’re interested, I do have some documents for you two to sign.”
You nod blindly, dragging your friend by her hand as Sejin leads the way to where you assume these documents wait for you. Your best friend yanks your hand so you walk next to her.
In your ear, she whispers, “I knew it! He was looking at you!” You swallow heavily.
Throughout the concert, Jungkook had only continued his eye-tag game. You couldn’t believe it; surely, he’d just chosen a spot in the crowd to focus on. You could imagine employing a similar strategy if you were a famous singer.
That being said, it was pretty intense. You’d first picked up on his attention during “Like Animals.” Jungkook had fixed his dark eyes on you, seemingly checking to make sure your eyes were on him before he belted his part of the chorus, his sharp jawline flexing and revealing veins in his neck. You’d frozen in your spot, completely enthralled by his voice and his face and him.
It only continued from there. “Not Today” brought an unserious serenade, Jungkook lingering near you as he pointed and danced and made faces at you.
During “IDOL,” when the boys had concluded their parade around the stadium, he’d walked right past you. You could see the sweat dripping from his brow and this look in his eyes like he wanted to eat you alive.
And, finally, during your favorite song, the second surprise song, he’d locked eyes with you yet again, smiling widely at your excited reaction before decidingly remaining in your corner of the stage for the remainder of the song. While the look from before was gone, he still seemed to sing the song to you. You were sure fans would freak out on Twitter over the fancam.
You’d fought your friend on her opinion that you’re a fucking idiot, he’s looking at YOU because you couldn’t believe he would. It wasn’t a self-confidence issue, it was just reality. Logistic, you’d said.
And, now, here you were. What the fuck?
When you finally reach a green room, Sejin pulls two packets from a briefcase. He turns to you both, clearing a space on a coffee table among some plastic chairs to set them down.
“Alright. These are Non-Disclosure Agreements.” Oh my god. The infamous NDA. You both sit down across from him.
Sejin continues to explain the purpose of the documents (“to protect the members’ personal lives and identities”). He informs you that you are not required to sign, can freely leave if you wish, and explains the legal weight of an NDA. He clarifies what signing it means for you two, before pushing the packets towards you.
“Take some time to read through them before you make a decision,” he says, wiping his hands on his black slacks.
“Thank you for explaining,” you smile softly at him. He bows his head in a slight nod.
“What the fuck!?” Your best friend whisper-yells when Sejin closes the door to the room behind him.
“Girl, I don’t even know!” You brace your cheeks with your hands, covering your mouth as you rub your face.
“What are we gonna do?” She asks. Her eyes are so wide you can see the white below her iris. You share a loaded look for a few seconds.
You both already know what you’re going to do.
~
The lights in BTS’s dressing room are dim. The air smells faintly of sweat and something sweet. There are a handful of people littered around the space, none of them BTS members. You and your best friend exchange a look.
“Hello!” A voice calls from beside a leather couch. You whip your head in their direction, revealing a short woman with long brown hair. Like Sejin, she’s dressed in all black.
“Feel free to make yourselves comfortable,” she continues. “I’m Mujin. It’s nice to meet you both.”
Smiling awkwardly, you introduce yourself. Mujin grins back, knowingly. Your best friend plops into the leather couch. You remain standing, taking in the expansive room. There are a couple clusters of grey and black balloons arranged nicely around a long table housing snacks and drinks. An ice bucket with three bottles of what looks like champagne sits on a side table next to a humidifier.
The room is filled with light chatter. It’s much quieter than the stadium, though, and you are definitely struggling to adjust to the change. Your ears are ringing and you still can’t process that BTS have invited you to their dressing room. Plus, they aren’t even here. You try to catch your friend’s eye. Of course, she doesn’t notice, so you hiss her name through closed teeth.
“What the hell is going on?” You say in her ear after sitting down next to her on the leather couch.
“Your guess is as good as mine, babe,” she says back, somehow nonchalant. How is she calm now?
“How are you not screaming?” You ask after a second, tone lilted with humor. She sighs, fighting back a chuckle. Your best friend might be incapable of laughing quietly, so you’re grateful for her effort.
“Well,” she starts, smirking, “we don’t really have another option, right? They’re probably just normal guys who want to drink and party. We can do that!”
She has a point. The pair of you are no strangers to the party lifestyle, given your university years. Just then, the door rattles, disrupting the strange peace of the dressing room. When it swings open, a man in black walks through first followed by seven freshly clean, inhumanly attractive men. BTS. Holy shit!
Your best friend scrambles to her feet, dragging you with her by the arm. You can only blink at the group as they make themselves comfortable in the room. Taehyung falls onto the couch next to you. He stares up at you.
“Well, are you going to sit down?” He smirks, eyes playfully wide. Your best friend squeezes your arm. Slowly, rigidly, the pair of you sit down. Jimin, Hoseok, and Namjoon are sitting on the other leather couch to your left. Seokjin has dragged Yoongi towards the long table with snacks, and Jungkook is…
Well, Jungkook’s leaning against the wall to your right, eyeing you with an expressionless face. You swallow hotly.
He’s changed out of his stage outfit, hair wet from his shower. He’s wearing a tight tank top. It’s white, and you can basically see his tan skin and toned muscles through it. His arms are crossed over his chest, emphasizing his bulging biceps and broad shoulders. His cargo pants hang low on his hips, a sliver of skin and black Calvin Klein briefs just barely on display. A pair of thick black boots give him an extra inch of height.
Jungkook smirks when he notices you staring. His lip rings pull tight against his mouth. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel to kiss him. Or how the cool jewelry might feel against less PG places…
You cross a leg over the other, pressing your thighs together tightly. It doesn't help to staunch the growing heat between them. You swallow the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth.
Back from the food table, Seokjin plops down on your friend’s other side, setting his plate on the coffee table in front of him.
“Well, I think introductions are in order!” He says, clapping his hands together and drawing laughs from his bandmates. You loosen up slightly at his playful tone. Your best friend has turned her body towards him, evidently in shock. You bite your lip to prevent a laugh at her reaction to her bias’ presence. So much for staying calm!
The BTS members introduce themselves as if you didn’t just watch them in concert from the first row. Seokjin goes first, grinning widely. Then Hoseok, Jimin, and Namjoon on the other couch, and Yoongi from his perch on the armrest of their couch. When the attention falls on Jungkook, he makes his way over towards you, introducing himself on the way.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” he says, sparkling brown eyes boring into yours. He sits on the armrest next to Taehyung.
“What he said,” Taehyung adds. A chuckle rings around the room at his quip.
“So, tell us about you guys!” Jimin exclaims, taking a sip from a plastic water bottle. Your best friend smiles warmly, ever the extrovert, and introduces herself. She explains that the two of you have been fans for a while, were surprised with tickets to the concert for your birthday, and took the train in from a nearby town to see the show. The members listen attentively, as do you, eyes from around the room on her warm presence.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Taehyung nudges an elbow into your arm. You smile at him affirmatively.
“Yes! It was so great! You guys are wonderful!” You say, with more confidence than you thought you possessed. You flush lightly, fighting the urge to hide your face in your hands with all of their attention on your words.
“Aw, Tae, she’s embarrassed!”
“Leave the girl alone!”
You flush even more as the members tease Taehyung. The urge to hide your face wins, and you drop your head into your open palms, face hot. On your right, you feel your friend bump your shoulder with her own.
You feel a poke on the back of your left shoulder and tilt your head to look at the culprit through your fingers. Jungkook’s warm brown eyes, scrunched up as he smiles, stare back. He’s leaning behind Taehyung, who has pushed forward on the couch to argue with his bandmates.
“Ignore them. We like to tease each other.” Jungkook says quietly, smiling beautifully. His face is only inches from your own. You can smell his cologne and the freshness of his shampoo. You smile back before Taehyung leans back into his spot on the couch, and Jungkook jerks back.
“Hyung! You almost crushed me!” He exclaims, quietness abandoned.
“It’s your own fault for trying to steal my new friend!” Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. Despite yourself, you laugh.
“Oh, she laughs!” Taehyung continues, “do we get to know our new friend’s name?”
You laugh again, grateful for the loud man’s antics. You tell him your name.
Taehyung mutters your name like he’s tasting it. He gets it right on the second try.
“Pretty!” Jimin says from the next couch over. Heat creeps up your neck again. This is surreal. You’re sitting in a dressing room with BTS, Kim Taehyung’s arm slung casually around your shoulders like you’re old friends, your best friend practically vibrating beside Kim Seokjin, and Jeon Jungkook…
Jeon Jungkook is still watching you. He’s leaning towards you and Taehyung from his spot on the arm rest, elbows resting on his knees. His expression is blank, like he’s lost in thought, with a smidge of that dark look from the concert. In the dressing room, Jungkook is every bit as captivating as he is on stage, but he seems more real, almost. Like he’s no longer playing a character. You’ve never seen this version of him, even in all of the BTS content you’ve consumed online.
Your stomach flips. It’s endearing. It’s hot.
“Shall we have a toast?” Hoseok says, having gotten up and returned with the ice bucket of champagne. Taehyung rises to his feet, urging you and Jungkook to follow him as he grabs nine champagne flutes. You follow the two men, all broad shoulders and long limbs, across the room and back, setting down the glasses. You keep one for yourself.
On his way back, Jungkook’s shoulder brushes with your own. You turn to apologize, but he places a strong hand on your shoulder as if to say, “don’t worry!”
You tilt your head as you smile up at him, and it’s his turn to blush, ears turning bright red as he makes himself comfortable on the couch.
Next to him, your best friend gives you a look, wiggling her eyebrows. She grabs your hand and, conscious of the glass in your hand, pulls you down in between herself and Jungkook. You glare at her as you land half on Jungkook’s lap, quickly shuffling off of him.
“You bitch!” You manage to say through your embarrassment. She rolls her eyes, laughing.
“Oh, please!” She says, before lowering her tone to add, “You have two BTS members obsessed with you. Be grateful!”
You laugh out loud. Obsessed is an exaggeration…
Nevertheless, you question your own proclamation as Jungkook’s arm settles on the back of the couch behind you, and you feel his stare on you.
~
Seemingly hours of champagne drinking, laughing, and conversation pass before the venue staff peek their heads in to request that everyone clear out. Laughing with the BTS members is easy; they’re kind, funny, and caring, and you manage to get over your disbelief that this is even happening. You’re warm and a little dizzy, tipsy from the champagne… and from Jungkook’s touch.
The man in question is still next to you on the leather couch. As time has passed and drinks have flowed, he’s grown closer to you. Now, your shoulder rests against his chest just under his arm, which has moved from the back of the couch to rest on your opposite shoulder. His deft fingers trace patterns on your skin. You’ve long since crossed your legs again, but it’s done virtually nothing to aid your arousal. Jeon Jungkook is sex personified, for God’s sake, and his strong arm has wrapped you up like he knows exactly what he wants to do with you..
You’re a little embarrassed, but not stupid. It’s evident that Jungkook being this touchy with you means something. That being said, you decide not to think about it, solely for the purpose of maintaining your composure. If you think too much about his motives, or his warm body, or the way you can feel his heart beating, or how delicately his tattooed fingers trace your shoulder… you’re not sure you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself.
The group occupying the room starts to move to head out. It’s just Sejin, the members, your best friend, and you now. The room has been cleared out, save for the furniture and the empty champagne bottles and glasses decorating the coffee table. Yoongi and Namjoon stand up, and the other members start to shuffle to follow them.
Boldly, you let your hand move from its spot in your lap to Jungkook’s thigh, giving it a light squeeze before moving to stand up. He grips your shoulder a bit harder to stop you from moving. Heat floods low in your stomach, and a shiver snaking up your spine when you feel his breath ghost against your neck.
“Not so fast, baby,” he murmurs.
Your hand is still on his thigh. Fuck it!
You sink back down without protest, one leg sliding over his, your calf nestled between his muscular thighs. You can feel the coiled tension in his body, waiting to snap and take you with him.
Slowly, you let your fingers train up his cargo pants, towards the place you know he wants you, but stop before you get there. You feel his breath quicken against your ear.
“Come back to the hotel with us,” he says, voice lower than ever. All you can do is hum in affirmation, turning sideways to face him, leg still atop his. One of his hands slides onto your knee, the other moving from your shoulder to your waist. His grip tightens dizzyingly.
Chatter from behind you steals your attention from the beautiful man you’re entangled with.
Seokjin’s squeaking laughter has Jungkook rising to his feet and pulling you with him, both hands on your waist. You have no control over your body as he holds you up, hands sliding to your hips as you both face the source of noise.
“Guys! The girls are staying in the same hotel as us!” The eldest member exclaims.
“No way!”
“The party never stops!”
Jungkook’s hands tighten around your hips when Taehyung gives you a high-five as he passes. You chuckle softly, only loud enough for Jungkook to hear. You feel his chest rumble. You aren’t sure if it’s a laugh or a growl.
It’s sexy either way, you think.
Your best friend grabs your hand, forcing Jungkook to let you go as she ushers you to grab your things from a table. She holds your hand tightly.
“Is this all okay with you?” She asks, anxious. You turn your head to look at her.
“Is it okay with you?” You say back. She flushes. Evidently, she’d been similarly busy with Seokjin. Realization dawns on you.
“Gonna get lucky with Kim Seokjin, huh?” You tease, and she slaps a hand over your mouth. You bend over, laughing.
“If you value your life, you’ll shut up,” she whispers, drawing a cacophony of laughs from your chest.
“Don’t worry, girl,” you say when she releases your mouth, “I… Well, I, um–”
“Yeah, I’m well aware!”
You’re kind of grateful for her cutting you off. You’re not sure if you can vocalize whatever’s going on with Jungkook. You do, however, know that you’re heavily anticipating what comes next, your stomach churning and muscles tense.
You risk a glance over your shoulder. Jungkook is already looking at you. Of course he is.
He’s standing a few feet away now, hands shoved into the pockets of his cargo pants, but there’s nothing casual about him. His posture is loose, sure, but his eyes are sharp, locked onto you like he hasn’t let you out of his sight for a second.
When you meet his gaze, his tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip. Your breath catches. There’s that dark look again.
“Come on!” Hoseok calls, clapping his hands together. “Cars are waiting!”
The group starts to funnel toward the door, loud and chaotic again as Sejin ushers everyone out the door.
You fall a bit behind everyone as you pause for a moment to take everything in. You’re slightly too tipsy to really think about it, but this is so surreal. A warm hand on your lower back breaks you out of your thoughts.
Jungkook’s presence just behind you is enough to simultaneously spike your heart rate and calm you down. The pressure of his hand against your back is guiding; you can see your best friend just ahead, mingling with Seokjin and Taehyung, and you can have your reflection time while Jungkook leads you through the maze of dressing rooms and equipment and staff.
“Stay close,” he leans down to murmur in your ear. You don’t let him go too far, though, a hand of your own wrapping around his waist boldly. His hand slides down, brushing over your ass before establishing a firm grip on your hip. You swallow heavily, muffling a groan, and push your body into his.
Outside, the night air cools you down, thankfully. God knows you need a reality check. You must be dreaming.
Sejin climbs into the driver’s seat of a nine-seater van, unlocking the sliding door for the rest of the group. He insists that no one should sit in the passenger seat.
“Hyung, there are only seven seats in the back, though!” Taehyung exclaims loudly. You’re almost positive he’s making a scene on purpose. Somehow, you blush at his implication.
“Well, this is the only van left since you all decided to stay at the venue for two hours,” comes the manager’s retort. Jimin and Hoseok laugh loudly, pulling Namjoon to sit in the back row with them. Yoongi and your best friend crawl into the second row, with Seokjin claiming he’ll sit in the small space on the floor of the van. Taehyung mischievously glances at you and Jungkook.
“We can squeeze in the front row, yeah?” Taehyung says. “Or you can just sit in my lap? I promise I’ll behave.” He sends an exaggerated wink your way, smiling big. You can’t help but laugh. If you were a bit more sober, you’d probably offer to just walk down the street to the hotel.
Either way, Taehyung’s shenanigans clearly piss Jungkook off. He shifts behind you at his friend’s words, both hands holding your hips. You turn your head to see his face. He’s shaking his head with a smile at Taehyung.
Taehyung rolls his eyes dramatically and laughs, gesturing ostentatiously towards the final row of the van.
“Well, help yourself!” He exclaims, boxy smile on display. He’s wiggling his fingers between Jungkook and you and the van. You laugh and take a step forward.
Before you can climb into the van on your own, Jungkook turns you around, sits his perfect butt on the seat, and literally lifts you up to pull you into him on the seat. He arranges you on his lap as Taehyung clambers into the van. You desperately hope none of the other members were paying too close attention to the scene. They’re probably drunk and talking amongst themselves, anyway.
Both of Jungkook’s arms wrap around your body tightly like a seatbelt. A buff, sexy, great-smelling seatbelt. You’re hesitant to lean back into him, still a bit rattled from the manhandling of it all, and you sit upright atop his thighs.
“Relax,” he says lowly, resting his chin on your shoulder, as if that’s even remotely possible. Fortunately for him, your body betrays you, softening as if on command into his chest. His arms tighten impossibly around you.
“Better,” he murmurs, maybe just to himself. You feel the chill of his lip rings against your neck when he speaks.
It feels good. So good, in fact, that you don’t hear the door close, or the conversation between the other occupants of the van, or the opening of the parking garage doors beneath the hotel, or the beeping of the vehicle when Sejin parks it and removes the key.
All you can feel is Jungkook. His warm breath on the back of your neck. His arms snug against your body. The rise and falls of his chest. The strength in his things beneath you. His half-hard cock nestled between your thighs, twitching every time you’re jostled by the van. You’re sure he can feel you, too. Your wetness has been seeping through your underwear since you laid eyes on Jungkook in the dressing room.
Taehyung sliding the door open jolts you out of your thoughts, and Jungkook releases you so you can climb out of the van, not without a light tap on your ass.
You hardly have to wait for him once you’ve exited; he’s already there, hands back where he likes them. He guides your hips from behind, walking behind Sejin, his bandmates, and your friend, who’s looking pretty cozy up to a certain Worldwide Handsome.
Up the main elevator to floor fourteen, across the hall to a private elevator activated by a keycard, and up to floor twenty, Jungkook refuses to let you go. Albeit mildly concerning in the daylight, his possessiveness turns you on. The flutter in your stomach and between your legs hasn’t ceased since you got in the van, and you’re certain anyone who got too close would be able to smell your arousal for him. For Jeon Jungkook.
Crazy, you think.
After everything, he finally, finally, leads you into a room, letting you go to lock the door behind him. He turns to you, warm brown eyes dark with lust. That’s what you were seeing earlier, you realize.
Like some kind of predator, Jungkook stalks towards you, tight shirt riding up just slightly to reveal the bottom of his toned stomach. His underwear, lower than ever on his hips, peeks out from his pants, which conceal an impressive bulge contained within them. Your eyes widen. You’ve never wanted to suck someone off more.
You trail your eyes seductively up his body, taking in his chest which moves with each deep breath, his tattooed arm, his veiny arms and hands. You wonder how many veins his cock boasts. You lick your lips, finally meeting his eyes.
Jungkook has his lower lip in a vicious bite. His piercings hide under his perfect teeth. His cheeks are flushed from the champagne. Or, from you.
You don’t realize you’ve moved backwards until the backs of your thighs meet a soft duvet. Jungkook takes a final step forward, into you, holding your hip with one hand and your jaw with the other. His touch is light, soft.
“Is this okay, baby?” He asks. His voice is low, but he’s dropped the sultry tone. You can’t do anything but nod slowly, captivated by the incredible man in front of you. He squeezes your hip.
“Words, babygirl,” he requests, and you fight back a moan. The sultry tone has returned.
“Yes, it’s okay,” you say, breathless, “it’s more than okay.”
He smirks, and you watch his piercings stretch with his lips as he moves both hands to your face. You look back up to his eyes, waiting. Jungkook lets out a sigh.
Closer than ever, you realize he’s waiting for you to make the first move. To show him it really is okay.
You push closer, chest to chest. Your lips hover over his, eyes flicking down to his lips and back to his beautiful eyes. He closes his eyes.
Finally, your lips crash together.
It’s nothing like you’ve been imaging all night. His soft lips move against yours with surprising tenderness, thumbs stroking the side of your face as you melt into him. You let your hands creep up to his waist, feeling the muscle bunched up there. Mimicking him, you move your thumbs along his sides.
He presses even closer to you, hands slipping down to hold your waist. His tongue darts into your mouth briefly before licking your bottom lip. You moan as he tilts you back over the bed, feet still on the ground, held up only by his strong hands.
You give in as the kiss deepens, falling backwards onto the bed with a squeal. He chuckles softly, kiss momentarily broken.
“Wanted you to myself from the second I saw you,” he murmurs against your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses there.
“Oh?” You laugh softly, rubbing your hands down his arms, “I bet that happens a lot, huh?”
“No,” he responds immediately. His tone turns dark, and his eyes match. He kisses you again, harder this time. Your lips move in tandem, hands running up and down bodies, tongues grappling, heat rising. You moan unabashedly when he nips at your bottom lip and continues down your neck.
“Jungkook–” you start, interrupting yourself with a gasp when his lips find a particularly sensitive spot and suck. You feel him smile against your skin, humming as he continues. His hands find their way to your ass and pull you up into a seated position. He shuffles to lean against the headboard, arranging you so you’re sat in his lap, knees on either side of his legs, chest heaving.
“You were so beautiful,” he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “just standing there like an angel.”
Your cheeks flush, somehow, and you lean forward to kiss him softly. When you pull back, he’s looking at you big-eyed with his head tilted. You smile and huff out a laugh.
“So pretty for me,” Jungkook whispers. Strong hands grip your waist, and he pulls you in for another kiss, this time not-so-soft. His grip is firm against you, hands traveling down to your ass, up to your tits, and everywhere in between. It’s a push and pull of sexual tension: hands gripping skin, lips pressing into lips, chests heaving. He pulls you impossibly closer. You can feel his hardness exactly where you want him.
You roll your hips over his, desperate for some friction. He groans deeply into your mouth. Both of his hands are on your hips, squeezing over your ass as he rocks you into him.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, breaking the kiss, “I’ll come just like this.”
You moan. How did you get so lucky?
“I’m the lucky one, babygirl,” says Jungkook. Did you say that out loud?
He lets out a throaty chuckle and kisses you. His hands move from your ass to your waist, and, before you know it, he’s slipping a tattooed hand into your waistband. He swallows your gasps as his fingers graze you over your underwear. You’re surely soaked through.
“All this for me, huh?” He all-but growls against your mouth, stroking your clothed heat slowly. You moan in response, hips jerking up from your spot on his lap. He groans and pushes you onto your back on the bed.
“Let’s get you ready, then,” he decides, pulling your jeans down your legs, fingers grazing your legs on the way.
“Hey, that tickles,” you exclaim, squirming as you lift your legs to let him get rid of your pants. He laughs, nose scrunching up.
“Someone’s sensitive,” he muses as he trails his fingers back up your body. Goosebumps pop up wherever his hands touch.
“This needs to be off,” you gasp out when his mouth makes it to your underwear, gesturing to his tank top. Without a word, he pulls it off, throwing it to join your jeans, and braces his bulging arms next to your head to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
Jungkook’s hands are back on you in no time. One braces himself above you, and the other traces you through your underwear. Moving the fabric to the side, he slips a finger into your wet folds, collecting the slick there before rubbing your clit. You moan, breaking the kiss.
“That’s it, baby, all wet, just for me.”
He manipulates his hand, thumb pressing into your clit, one finger fucking into you. His lips part your own, working your mouth with his tongue and drawing gasp after gasp from you.
You arch off of the bed, head careening back as your hips threaten to lift away from him. He moves down your body, gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place.
“God, you’re so gorgeous.” He kisses your stomach, groaning, and adds another finger. The stretch stings, but gives way to pleasure soon enough. The pressure he maintains on your clit only aids the temporary discomfort.
His fingers move faster. As your walls clench around them, he pulls away, sensing your incoming orgasm. You whine, missing the fullness his fingers provided.
“I know, I know,” he says softly, but with a smirk. You look up at him, eyes watering from the pleasure, and decide to take matters into your own hands.
Jungkook falls into the pillows against the headboard when your light shove sends him backwards. His smirk extends into a smile, pupils blown as he watches you. You sit in his lap, just below where his cock struggles against the fabric of his cargo pants.
“My turn,” you say, reaching for the button of his pants. A salacious whine escapes his lips. He pushes his briefs down with the pants you’re pulling off, hard cock springing up against his stomach. You lick your lips.
His cock is long and veiny, just as you imagined earlier. Precum leaks from his tip, and he’s every bit as pornographic as you’d guessed. He wraps a tattooed fist around himself, pumping a few times. He whines again, calling out your name quietly. You snap your eyes up to him, raising an eyebrow to prompt him to speak.
He doesn’t take the bait, opting to push you back over and hover above your body. He releases his heavy cock to tug at the hem of your top. You remove it without a question, leaving you in only your soaked-through panties and your bra. Jungkook leans down to press a kiss to your lips.
“As much as I would love to see your pretty mouth around my dick,” he says as if it’s a casual conversation, “I’m not sure I’d last long.”
You groan, pressing a hand against your mouth. He rubs your hips mindlessly.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” Jungkook says. His voice is the only noise in the hotel room.
“You,” you choke out, “I want you.”
Jungkook’s eyes darken even more. He reaches around your back to unclip your bra.
“Well, I have to make sure you get what you want, hm?”
He pulls the undergarment off of your body and holds your waist in his big hands, kissing you deeply. Lips trail down to your nipple, and he sucks hard. You moan loudly.
Hands squeeze your hips gently, pulling off your underwear. Finally, you’re both left bare.
Jungkook pumps himself in one hand, leaving his other hand to rub your clit slowly. You fight back a scream, still sensitive from his earlier ministrations but more than ready to feel him inside you.
You tell him as much, and he reaches to his wallet to grab a condom. When he’s ready, he leans down to kiss you, lining himself up with your core.
You feel the head of his cock pressing into your folds as his tongue licks into your mouth. He pauses there, mouth on yours, tongue halfway past your lips, and bottoms out into you in one fluid motion. You let out a choked scream.
“Yes, babygirl, so good, so tight for me,” he pants into your mouth. Tears prick at the edges of your eyes. You grab his hips, unable to speak, but needing him to move inside of you. He takes the hint, drawing out of you slowly before pushing back in swiftly. He kisses you again before pulling away to hold your waist in his hands as he fucks into you.
Quickly, the stretch dissolves into pleasure, and Jungkook’s consistent rhythm immediately tightens the coil of heat in your belly. He shifts, lifting your hips up and spitting on your entrance as his cock pounds into you. You moan at the new position, at the vulgarity of his saliva inside of you.
“Knew I needed you like this,” he groans, pushing your legs up above his shoulders, “so gorgeous for me, yes.”
He’s loud as he whips his hips into yours. The room is filled with his whines and groans and pants, and it only adds to the feeling in your stomach. Sweat pours down your back. Your muscles twitch. If it weren’t for Jungkook holding your legs on his shoulders, you’d surely have retracted them or squirmed or something by now.
Soon, the pressure in your belly grows, and Jungkook’s relentless pace as he fucks into you becomes too much. You let out a choked moan.
“I’m so close, Jungkook,” you mutter, “you’re so good.”
“Oh?” He growls. “Come for me, baby. Come on my dick.”
His words are the last straw. You see white behind your eyes, and as your walls flutter, his pace stutters. You orgasm at the same time: hips jerking, walls pulsing, lungs heaving, cock throbbing. In the aftermath, Jeon Jungkook slumps into his hotel bed, pulling you close into his chest after discarding the condom.
What the fuck just happened?