#(ive written longer drabbles but i did not even THINK for a second holy fuck)

[sensesdialed-aa]

“There is goodness in the heart Of every broken man Who comes right up to the edge Of losing everything he has." -Mars, Sleeping At Last

                                                                ------------------

“Peter Parker, report to the guidance office, please.” 

Voice blares over the announcement system, stopping the scratching of pencils against paper and the tapping of students’ feet, incessant whispers and the discreet chewing of gum attempting to hide it from the teacher ( but he can hear it all clear ). They all look at him. Or at least, it feels like it. Heads turning and pairs of eyes all burning holes into his already worn down form. Peter grips his pencil just a little tighter. Don’t break it...he places it down instead. His chest aches, and he doesn’t want to get up, didn’t even want to come into school today. Wanted to lay in bed and face the wall and stay there until the hurt goes away and it’s finally numb. But he has to, or else the stares will just continue. So he stands. 

  Uncomfortable eye contact with his teacher, who gives him a knowing nod, and he trudges out with his gaze cast downward-- everyone knows. Talk spreads fast, and during the week that Peter has been gone from Midtown High, just about everyone who has seen the bright-eyed boy that’s always tapping his feet and excels in Chemistry knows that his uncle is dead. 

   Maybe he can leave. Maybe he can run out the side door and keep running until he gets back home again. Or he can run into the bathroom and throw up and ask the nurse to go home. But the label on the door in front of him is staring right back at him-- he doesn’t even remember walking here-- and he has to go inside. 

He’s spoken to the counselor before, briefly, of course. He’s just a freshman, and there’s no way in hell he’s talking about any of the shit in his life. Still, he recognizes the slightly uncomfortable rolling chair and the posters on the wall and the way sunlight creeps in through the window, leaves rustling on the trees-- it doesn’t feel like they should be. Nothing should be going on. The world should be unmoving, FROZEN in time and shaken from suffocating tragedy. But that’s just Peter. The Earth still turns, the school bell still rings, the sun still shines, but they don’t in his world. Because Ben is gone, and he’s drowning. 

  “Peter? Why don’t you sit down?” 

Startled by the voice, he jumps slightly, gaze flickering around the room as if he expects another GUNSHOT to pour out, droplets of blood splattering against the pavement, before he blinks-- it’s the guidance counselor. Her brows are knit and her expression is full of sympathy-- he’s tired of that look. He knows she means well, but he’s still sick of it. 

   He wants to scream, yell until his throat is hoarse, but he nods instead, sinking down into the chair. Anxiety pools in his stomach, and he knows what she’s going to say. He knows exactly what’s going to happen, he even GUESSED it would, but he isn’t even the slightest bit prepared. 

   “I know you already know what I’m going to talk about.” What, can she read his mind now? “But all I want is to help you through a rough time. I know you’re going through a lot, and I would like to do whatever I can to guide you through it.” 

   Nails scratch against a spot on his hand, a spot still a bit red, even now, from the bite that changed everything. Gave him something he’s always wanted. Took away something he never wanted to lose. “Um...I appreciate it, but....I’m sorry but I don’t think it’ll help.” 

   “You’re not the first student to say that to me. I know this is something you must be unfamiliar with-”

“My parents died when I was a kid,” He spits out, but there’s no bitterness in his voice. He just sounds tired. 

   “Well...you’re much older than that now, teenagers handle things differently. We don’t have to discuss anything today, if you don’t want to. We don’t have to discuss anything. We all deal with grief in different ways. I’m just here to let you know that my office is always open if you’re feeling alone, or if you feel as if you have no one to talk to about this.”

    But he DOESN’T, does he? Even if he tells her about how every breath feels as if he’s heaving through a million glass shards stuck in his lungs, or how there’s an empty hole where light used to be, he still can’t talk about how it’s HIS FAULT. He can’t talk about how he could have SAVED Ben, can’t talk about how the bang of the gunshot and the way Ben’s breathing came to a shattering halt haunts him every time he closes his eyes. He can’t talk about the guilt, because she won’t GET IT. NO ONE WILL GET IT. Because he has to keep the powers a secret. A childhood dream twisted into a nightmare, abilities he couldn’t even use to save what mattered most and a voice in his head that tells him he has to save everyone else now. He has to be there for May...has to take a deep breath and pretend to be alright as he falls apart. He can’t talk to her about any of that. 

       “Uh....okay.....yeah-- um...thanks.” He fidgets in his seat, visibly uncomfortable, eyes burning. “Is that-- ...is that it?” 

   “Only if you want it to be. I can keep talking to you if you need it, or you can go right back to class if you don’t want to right now.” 

  “Can I...um-- can I go back? Thanks for the offer, I just...I have a quiz I can’t miss...already missed a whole week-” 

  A saddened smile appears on her face, and she nods. “Okay, Peter. You can go. Just know that you have a place to go when you need to get all this off your chest.” 

 He pushes himself up, clutching backpack straps over his shoulder, another nod. “Right...thank you...um...bye-” The second he walks through the door, he’s making his way down the hallway, chest somehow feeling even tighter than before. Room 202-- his geometry class-- is down the hall and to the left, but he makes a sharp right, slipping out the doors and into the sun that shouldn’t be up in the sky. It isn’t until he’s two blocks away from the school that the tears finally start to fall. 

         He doesn’t go back to her office. 

                                                    ------------------

“Peter Parker, report to the guidance office, please.”

   He doesn’t get any looks two years later. Students have been called down left and right, nobody pays attention to who. All of them shaken, everyone with their own things to worry about. Two years later, Peter is sixteen. Or...seven years....at least for the rest of the world. He still can’t wrap his head around it. Sixteen and different, sixteen and a superhero, sixteen and back in the same old spiral. Except the world did shut down this time. Just without him in it. 

   Same trudge through the hallway. Same deep breath before he opens the door. Different counselor...he doesn’t know what happened to the other one, probably left the school in Peter’s absence. Maybe she got a better job offer somewhere...or maybe it was all too much....he doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about anything. But sitting down in the same chair they haven’t replaced in seven years, his head is spinning. Because he’s sixteen and different, sixteen and wants to GET AWAY from all this. 

   “Hello, Peter.” It’s a man this time, same sympathetic look, except this time, the whole world gets it. Or at least...some of it, in Peter’s case. None of them know anything about what Peter went though...none of them. “I just wanted to talk to you about.” 

   “I know what you’re gonna say.” Again, not bitter, just exhausted. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re gonna tell me that you’ve been calling down students to talk about what happened..er-- the Blip. Tell me that you’re here if I wanna talk about any of it. Tell me that I don’t have to go through this alone. Right? That’s what you were gonna say?” 

   “Well...yes, we have been calling students down, but-” 

“I’m sorry, sir, but...I can’t. I can’t talk about everything, so there’s-- um, there’s really no point-” 

   “We do have information about your life. We know you disappeared, and we know of your internship with Tony Stark-” 

   The world slows down in that moment, and there’s a ringing in his ears that muffles out the rest of the noise, throat suddenly closing up and blocking any air from getting in-- memories RUSH to the front of his mind. The spaceship. Titan. Dying. Didn’t wanna go. Hurt, it hurt so bad, he was scared. The battle. Lasers. The gauntlet. A second chance. Glowing lady. Pain. They won. Pleading. Fear. Death. The slowing of a heartbeat. Kneeling. Sobbing. The ripple of a lake in the soft glow of the sun that should be gone like the light that flickered out from Tony’s chest. 

The counselor’s mouth is moving, but Peter doesn’t hear him. He can only hear himself begging not to go, or repeating how they won. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying. It isn’t until there’s a hand on his arm that he shoots right up from the chair, chest heaving up and down before he rushes right out of the office, and all the way down the hallway until he reaches the same exact door he left through two seven years ago. 

   He doesn’t even make it two steps before he sobs. 

                                                            Maybe Parker luck repeats itself. 

[passiontaee]

agust d | m

pairing: yoongi x jeongguk

genre: slice of life

ratings: m

warnings: got some smutty smoot in here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

word count: 7381

summary: jeongguk is a student and yoongi is a popular underground rapper. jeongguk suddenly becomes obsessed with yoongi thinking it’s because he admires yoongi so much. but after getting to talk to him after serendipitously meeting jeongguk starts wondering if it’s really admiration or something a little more. plus, he sucks yoongi’s dick. many times.

a/n: my first drabble/one shot with smut >:) my best friend doesn’t call me the smut god for no reason

also here’s 7k of yoonkook, ive never written this much in my life so yall are welcome :)

↬ s.

“Guess who’s your best friend?”

Jeongguk turns to look at Taehyung in confusion, but zeroes in on the two slips of paper he sees between his fingers. His instinctual reaction is to make grabby hands at him to see what treasures his best friend is bringing for him, but as he makes an attempt to grab the slips, Taehyung jerks his hand back at the last minute, giggling evilly. Jeongguk hates him. 

“You would be if you let me see what’s in your hand?”

“Hm. Yeah probably. Here,” He’s sporting a shit eating grin and Jeongguk is momentarily a little afraid of what he’s got up his sleeve—Taehyung is always finding ways to get them fucked up in a variety of ways and it’s to the point where Jeongguk doesn’t even question it anymore—but he takes one of the slips as Taehyung makes sure the other is still in his possession. Weird flex, but okay. He focuses on the slip in his hand, staring at it before it registers what holy artifact he’s wielding in his possession. 

Agust D tickets.

Taehyung, his actual best friend in the whole universe, has managed to snag two tickets to Agust D’s next performance. 

“If I was into you I’d get on my knees and suck your dick right now,” he stares up at his best friend with literal sparkles in his eyes. Truly, Taehyung is a rare breed of best friend. 

“I mean, you haven’t heard of broblows?”

“Taehyung I’m not sucking your dick.”

Said male holds his hands up in surrender, but his smile is still bright as he stares at Jeongguk, who looks starstruck and amazed. “Yes, but who got you Agust D tickets? You can suck his instead, that’s fine,”

Jeongguk chokes as Taehyung continues. “You know, since you yourself said the D in Agust D stands for dick,”

“I did not!”

“Explain why your YouTube search history is ‘compliations of Agust D’s bulge’ then Jeon. You’re not fooling anyone,” Taehyung leans in to pinch at Jeongguk’s cheek, causing the younger to whine in complaint. How dare Taehyung call him out like this? He swats at him, only making Taehyung laugh more. Pouting, he turns his attention back to the ticket, only for his eyes to bulge out of his head. Taehyung looks at him, momentarily concerned. Opening his mouth to ask what was wrong, but is interrupted by Jeongguk answering without prompting. 

“The show is tonight!” He squawks, shooting up and shoving Taehyung away. Almost in a panic as he runs over to his closet. “I don’t have anything to wear,” this is a big deal; he’s meeting his idol and there’s no way he’s walking into the venue looking crusty. Kim Taehyung had lost his mind. 

“Alas! That’s the second part of the surprise! Since I love you so much, I managed to go shopping during my time out and I personally bought you something to wear!” he grins, brighter, and points to the door. “It’s in my room though, so go fetch!”

Jeongguk’s sure if he was into Taehyung he’d be on his knees right now. 

“There’s so many people in here,” Jeongguk huffs, though stays close to Taehyung. Nearly glued to his back as the elder navigates through the crowd of bodies. He’s already feeling a little exposed in what Taehyung bought for him to wear. Sure, he knows he wears a lot of bland colors—a variety of blacks and whites—but Taehyung had decided he’s getting fucked tonight and had thrown leather pants at him and a snug fitting white shirt. To flaunt your teeny tiny waist, was his excuse, but Jeongguk isn’t at an Agust D concert to get fucked. Unless Agust D himself is throwing out dick then he’s all for it maybe. He wants to cry, but this is a dream come true so he knows he better enjoy this moment because who knows when he’s going to be able to see Agust D again. This close. Thank goodness he’s got a rich best friend, because he’d never thought he’d be getting backstage tickets to see him either. 

“Are you nervous?” Taehyung whispers into his ear, reaching for his hand to hold. It’s a common thing he does whenever he senses Jeongguk being uneasy and he’s honestly grown used to it. It’s comforting really, and Taehyung is very perceptive to him. Jeongguk nods though at the question, and Taehyung squeezes his hand comfortingly. “That’s okay. I’d be nervous too if it was like RM or something up there. Agust D is pretty good too though,” he jokes, but everyone and their mother knows how much of a slut Taehyung is for the rapper RM. There’s a lookalike at their school who works in the Literature department as a TA that he was trying to lure into his bed that Jeongguk had met before. Namjoon’s pretty nice. Too nice for Taehyung and far too pure for him. But the words bring him comfort, and he even cracks a smile. 

“How much longer til the show starts?” He can’t remember what the bouncer had said, but there’s other people performing. Opening acts from smaller artists that nobody’s really paying much attention to. Some are, but others are only here for the main event. 

“Mmmm, maybe half an hour. Give or take a few minutes. I dunno though, these opening acts are pretty sick,” he praises, looking up at the stage at someone who’s up there rapping. He’d seen this person before, knew him from one of his music appreciation classes. Park Chanyeol was pretty popular around campus anyways. 

The opening acts come and go, and by the time Agust D comes up they’re already feeling the hype from the previous artists. Not as good as the main event, but him and Taehyung are a bit biased anyways. Jeongguk feels a little more loose, less tense, and he’s sure that Taehyung is probably ready to jump on that stage and rap with Agust D. Leave it to Taehyung to get hype and pull something like that. But thankfully, he doesn’t and Agust D safely arrives onstage. As the opening beats to one of his popular songs begins to play, Jeongguk freezes, a look of excitement and astonishment on his face from being so excited and honored to be here, in this moment, with his best friend as he watches his idol explode on stage. Syllables flying out of his mouth as he raps about his dreams, his ambitions, and their fucked up society. He follows along, grinning the entire time, with sparkles in his eyes as he stares up at Agust D as if he were God himself. He’s having the time of his life, making eye contact occasionally as the ball of fiery energy moves across the stage, accent pouring through with his cut through cyphers. Jeongguk can feel his heart thundering in his chest during all three songs, though it picks up when it’s all over, an Taehyung is bouncing beside him as he follows a group of fans to Agust D’s backstage area. Adrenaline bursts through his body, yet so does a small sense of dread and a bit of fear. He would be meeting his idol. In the flesh. He feels like he’s about to faint. 

“Agust D is so cool! Oh my God, I want to have his babies!” a group of girls squeal as their friend shouts this. Taehyung elbows Jeongguk lightly in the ribs, smirking. 

“Don’t you want to have his babies too?” His eyebrows wag suggestively, and Jeongguk turns beet red and ducks his head. 

“H-hyung that’s biologically impossibl—”

“Next!” A woman with wire framed glasses looks over at them, the group of girls disappearing into the room. It’s their turn next, and said woman eyes them suspiciously almost. They shuffle forward, prompting her to ask their names. 

“Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jeongguk. My friend is his biggest fan,” Taehyung blabs. The woman mutters a calm ‘that’s nice’ and nods, peering inside the room. About ten minutes pass before the girls exit, all flustered and giggly. She then turns to them with a grave expression on her face.

“Don’t touch him, no photos. Do not be lewd or anything either. Be respectful and don’t be in there too long. There’s more people behind you so ten minutes max.” She sounds as though she’s reciting from a script, but steps aside to allow them inside. He allows Taehyung to lead the way, not wanting to make a fool of himself. He would be positively mortified if he stumbled and fell on his face in front of Agust D. So it’s best to allow Taehyung to meet him first. No big deal. 

He’s not what Jeongguk expects. 

Yes, he’d seen him up close and personal from the front row, but seeing him now is entirely different. He’s no longer in his stage attire and has dressed down into an oversized hoodie with a baseball cap covering his ash blue hair, staring lazily at his phone as he sits on a couch. Jeongguk is sure he’s seeing an angel right now, and is unable to sit and admire the tiny man because Taehyung decides, then and there, to open his mouth and introduce them. 

“Hello! Oh man, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Kim Taehyung,” he pulls Jeongguk from behind him, and points at him. “This is my best friend, Jeon Jeongguk. He’s a huge fan.” The blue haired man looks up at them lazily, staring the two men down, then moves to stand. Making his way over to them and holds out a hand for them to shake. Taehyung takes the bait and shakes his hand excitedly but Jeongguks stares at it stupidly. Agust D just blinks at him, waiting for Jeongguk to snap out of his stupidity and just shake his hand. Taehyung, meanwhile, has shuffled away with a sly grin, heading over to the refreshments table. It takes Jeongguk a few moments to buffer before he’s embarrassed, and shakes the man’s hand. 

“Sorry,” his voice is soft. He doesn’t catch the quirk of the lips from the rapper who watches him, moving to slide his phone in his pants pocket, then his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. He takes in Jeongguk’s appearance, seemingly pleased, and shakes his head. 

“Your friend said you’re a fan, so it’s no big deal. It’s not the worst thing someone’s done when they meet me,” he’s reassuring and Jeongguk wants to dissolve on the spot. Instead, he brings his head back up to make eye contact, meeting Agust D’s intense gaze. His mouth goes dry as he struggles to formulate a sentence. A coherent one at that. 

“I uh, your music is really good.” Nailed it. It’s not very eloquent, but the rapper seems to not mind it. Seemingly amused at the blubbering idiot in front of him. 

“Yeah? What’s your favorite song?” This gets the cogs in his brain turning as he tries to cypher through the endless soundtrack of Agust D songs in his head, playing them and trying to figure out if he’s even got a favorite. But he finds one and settles on it. 

“I like all your stuff, really. Your music just speaks to me on a deeper level. The lyrics are really raw and authentic and anybody who knows music can tell that you did it all by yourself. You don’t sugar coat either. You’ve got some lighter stuff too, and sometimes you sing, but there’s just this intensity in your raps that just really hit me in my chest. Like in your song, First Love. It’s a really emotional piece and it just. . .I dunno. It’s really good. All of your stuff is,” he sounds like a blubbering idiot, but Agust D looks thoughtful. Pleased with his answer and analysis. Jeongguk doesn’t think that anything he said makes sense, but Agust D seems pleased. 

“Your friend’s right, you really are a fan,” there’s a grin on his face, and Jeongguk is unsure how to interpret it but something tells him he’s scored major brownie points with his favorite artist. 

“That was the shortest ten minutes of my life,” Taehyung complains, bumping into Jeongguk who’s trying his hardest to stick the straw in his matcha. Grumpy because he agreed. It indeed was the shortest ten minutes of his life, but Agust D seemed impressed with him and they had a good conversation. A conversation he wanted to continue, but his time had been up so he’d had to begrudgingly cut the conversation short and leave. Much to his chagrin. 

“You were on your phone the entire time,” He fusses, bringing the straw up to his lips. Taehyung shakes his head, seemingly offended but Jeongguk knows he’s not. 

“Yeah, to give you time to suck his dick, but obviously that didn’t work.” Cue Jeongguk choking on his drink. They continue walking, heading back to their shared apartment when something slams into his back. He barely is able to process it, turning around and catching someone in a beanie and facemask. Confused and hesitant, he tries to see under the mask, hiked up beneath sunglasses. 

“May I help you?”

The person shuffles a little to grab something out of their coat pocket, pulling out a slip of paper and shoves it in his chest. Jeongguk has little time to process it and ask what this was for before the person turns and walks briskly the opposite way. He’s confused, but unfolds the paper to see what’s on it. 

An address. A phone number. No name thought? The script is a little messy but he can make out what it says. 

Text me. I’d like to meet up and talk some more. -AD

Taehyung, he can feel, bounces behind him. Trying to peer at the cryptic message left by the shady person but Jeongguk’s hand is shaking a little. Was Agust D trying to get in contact with him? 

“What is it?” Taehyung whines, trying to make a grab for the paper, but Jeongguk shakes his head and shoves it in his pocket. 

“Nothing. Just a note from a girl in my lit class,” he lies, but Taehyung buys it. Grinning and wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ohohohoho, which one?”

Calling. . .

Calling . . .

“Hello?” A smooth voice picks up on the second ring and Jeongguk gulps at the sound. Indeed, it is Agust D and indeed, this person had gifted him with his phone number. 

“H-how’d you find me?”

“Oh, that was easy. There’s not many Jeon Jeongguk’s in town and you’re pretty popular. All I had to do was search for you on Naver and boom, got you. It was fairly easy, honestly. I also searched for your friend too, just in case,” This makes Jeongguk a little flustered, as he hadn’t expected Agust D to go into such depth trying to find out where he was and get in touch with him. He’s a little more than fanboying right now. “But, I wanted to continue our conversation some more. You know your stuff,”

“Yeah, I’m a music major so I kind of have to,” he blurts, clutching his phone like a lifeline. The man on the other end makes a noise of surprise. 

“Ahhh, music huh? I majored in that too in college. College was meh, but music made it a little better. How old are you anyway?”

“Twenty two.”

“So young. . .,” there’s a sigh on the other end. “I can’t talk for long, but we should meet up at the address I gave you. Sorry for shoving it in your chest like that, I tried to be a little secretive,”

“Wait, that was you?”

“Why would I send someone else to do my dirty work? Of course it was me. Why, are you shocked?” There’s a smirk in his tone that Jeongguk hears quite well, and he goes quiet at it. Chosing to ignore the fact that he’s being teased. 

“When do you want to meet?” He responds instead. There’s a pause and a rustling of paper, before Agust D clicks his tongue. 

“I’m free tomorrow afternoon. Are you?”

“Yeah, I get out of class at noon.”

“Perfect. Meet me then and we can go get coffee or something,” Jeongguk’s delusional mind races and clenches on the idea of going on a date with the famed Agust D, but he knows that logically this is just them going out to get coffee and discuss music. That’s it, that’s literally all this is. But the delulu in him is jumping out very loudly and he’s making it more than what he is in his head. 

He’s a little chilly, but it’s worth it. 

Standing outside the building, a small hole in the wall coffee shop in a quieter part of town—the address on the slip of paper—Jeongguk patiently waits for Agust D to show up. So nervous he feels nauseous. The type of nauseated that he knows he’s not going to vomit, but at the same time he still feels that it’s possible. Nervous to make a blunder and nervous to sit and talk to the man that’s the background of his computer. Who he idolizes far too aggressively than he should. But luckily he doesn’t have to wait long, because he’s approached and grabbed by the arm, pulled inside wordlessly. He knows who it is almost immediately and makes no attempt to scramble away. Instead, he tries to memorize how the hand feels wrapped around his forearm—larger than he’d anticipated—and the strength behind the pull. It’s gentle, but firm. Commanding almost. He’s sat at a table in a far corner and Agust D moves to sit across from him. Pulling the mask he’d been wearing down and under his chin, his round cheeks on full display. Jeongguk thinks his brain just melted. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I was on the phone with my manager,” the first thing that comes out of his mouth is an apology. An apology. He almost blurts out that it’s an honor to wait on him and that he’d willingly wait on him hand and foot if he asks, but doesn’t. Instead, he slides his cold hands between his warm thighs to warm them up, chuckling sheepishly. 

“Oh, it’s no problem. I wasn’t waiting very long.” He’d really only been waiting maybe five minutes, but he’d wait an hour in the cold for him. He doesn’t admit this though. The ash haired man seems okay with this, pulling out a menu to look at. Jeongguk stares at him, wordlessly. Still unable to believe this is happening. He’s probably staring for maybe three minutes before Agust D speaks up, but doesn’t look at him. 

“I don’t think I’m on the menu,” 

Jeongguk, flabbergasted, opens and closes his mouth like a fish, dropping his eyes and staring down at his lap like a scolded child. Ignoring the soft laugh that comes from across him as the horror fills him. What is he, a stupid, starstruck teenage girl? 

“Here. There’s only one menu and I know what I want. You can get whatever, I don’t mind paying.”

He looks up then staring at the laminated menu slid in front of him for him to look at. On it are an assortment of drinks and snacks, along with pictures. Small ones of the various drinks, the signature drinks in each category. He’s still a little clueless about coffee, so he searches and successfully finds the frappe-like drinks. A safe choice, because he doesn’t want to look even more stupid in front of his idol. When he finalizes what he wants, he looks over at Agust D, who’s typing away on his phone. Seemingly feeling his gaze, he then proceeds to turn his phone off and place is face down on the table. Away and out of sight. His attention then focuses on Jeongguk. 

“So, you’re a student, you’re twenty two, and you’re majoring in music. Your best friend is Kim Taehyung and you’re my biggest fan? What else should I know about you then? Or well, what do you want to know about me?” He brings his hands up to lock beneath his chin, both elbows on the table. Jeongguk stares at him, stares at his face, then moves down to his hands, and lastly to the table top as he squirms. He knows quite a bit about him, but isn’t sure what he should ask first. 

“Uh. . .what’s your favorite food?”

The question is sudden and makes Agust D laugh a little, taken off guard. Jeongguk wants to cry at how his eyes disappear and his smile brightens when he laughs. This is unfair.

“You’re my biggest fan and you don’t know my favorite food? Jeongguk-ah, I’m disappointed,” he teases, but Jeongguk thinks for a moment he’s serious and stiffens. But then relaxes, mentally scolding himself for being so sensitive. Goddamnit. 

“Haha, right,” he gives a light chuckle, kind of nervous. Agust D senses this and leans over, playfully petting his arm. 

“Relax, yeah? No need to be all uptight and stuff. You don’t have to be so scared to talk to me. I’m not going to bite or anything,” he’s reassuring, voice soft and even offers a smile. Jeongguk tries to relax a little, knowing he’s right. He can’t be acting like he has something stuck up his ass. 

“Oh, and you don’t have to call me by my stage name either. Call me Yoongi for now on.”

Yoongi. 

He’s really scored brownie points?

“So yeah, I really think that the pop version of hip hop is a joke. Idols don’t even right their own damn raps so it’s not even real hip hop. And the concepts? Disgusting. Offensive. Electric fucking chair,” Yoongi’s more animated with a bit of caffiene in his system, Jeongguk notices. So is he, but he’s still on his first frappe and is still loosening up by the time Yoongi breaches coffee number two. It’s honestly exciting to see, and though they came here to talk about music, there’s not been much music talk. Mostly Yoongi asking about what he does on a daily, and how his classes are. He’s observant and seemingly interested, and the attention makes Jeongguk a little shy but also it excites him. Never before had he imagined being this close with his idol to the point of getting coffee and sitting and chatting like this. This must be a dream come true?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Next time you listen to like fucking Seventeen or something, pay attention to their rapping, then think about their rapping and pay close attention to it. Then compare it to like Jay Park or Park Chanyeol or something. Huge difference,” he points out and Jeongguk knows what he’s talking about, but begs to differ, considering he’s a vocalist.

“Mmmm, yeah but different styles. Pop is more vocally, if that makes sense, and what you guys do is more rap based. So of course the pop version is more ‘bubblegum’ because of the style. I don’t think pop is meant to be as hardcore as like hip hop but I do agree some groups don’t execute it well. I’m speaking from the vocalist side of the spectrum,” Yoongi looks at him then, surprised. 

“You sing?”

Suddenly, Jeongguk wants to be the floor. The entire fucking floor. Just melt into the floor and become the floor yes.

 “. . .yes?”

“How come you didn’t tell me? Honestly, you look like the singing type. And you’ve got a soft voice so honestly I kind of called it. You don’t give off rapper vibes and you’ve got a nice body that looks like you dance, but the vocals thing is kind of obvious,” he brings his cup to his lips to take a sip, as if what he said wasn’t a big deal. It’s a big fucking deal. Yoongi just grilled him, read him, and delivered a verdict. 

“I have a nice body?” He stupidly blurts out. Yoongi looks at him then, eyes sharp as he takes in the visible aspects of his body. 

“Yeah. Does nobody tell you that?”

Well yeah, but not famous people who he’d willingly let step on him. 

“Yeah, sometimes.” Yoongi hums at this, thoughtfully. 

“I bet you’re pretty popular with the girls on campus.” 

Jeongguk has never been more flustered in his life. It’s not a lie, but in reality he’s popular with everybody. 

“I guess?”

Yoongi simply nods thoughtfully, but then smiles at him. It’s almost uncharacteristic but Jeongguk is still blinded by it. It’s even a little sly, and he wonders what the rapper has up his sleeve. 

“I’ve got a performance tomorrow night, you and Taehyung should come.” Jeongguk would be a fucking idiot to turn this down. He’s got a paper due in three days but fuck school. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can get you backstage too. But you’ll be special guests, so you can hang around a little longer. Actually, I’ll make sure you guys get to stay the latest,” Yoongi’s so powerful that Jeongguk almost whines at this. Wow, God is good. 

“Uh, okay that’s. . .yeah that would be amazing actually,” he even cracks a smile. At this, Yoongi leans over, a little in his personal space, but Jeongguk doesn’t mind. He can smell his shampoo from this close distance as well. 

“After that though, do you want to come over? To my place? We can talk more and stuff.”

Jeongguk swears at that moment his brain shuts off and powers down. The Windows shutdown sound effect has never been louder.

“You must’ve really sucked his dick good to get us better tickets and VIP passes for free,” Taehyung hisses in his ear as they’re finally led backstage for their special VIP treatment. Nearly everyone is gone but Jeongguk knows for a fact that Yoongi isn’t. Neither is his team, but he knows that they won’t bother them. Taehyung is just here as a cover up, because he’s pretty sure that Yoongi had invited him over for one thing and one thing only. 

He’s totally not afraid. 

Sure, one should be honored that their idol seems a bit interested in them and wants to hook up, but this is Yoongi. This is highly important and it had been a while really since his last hookup. He definitely had to make sure he was prepared for this. He didn’t even know Yoongi was into guys, to be quite honest. So not only was this a surprise, but it was a fucking honor. This special occasion called for his best outfit; more leather courtesy of Taehyung, and an over-sized sweater. Pairing sexy with cute? Perfect. Something in him tells him he’s overthinking this invitation and there’s nothing happening, but the suggestive tone in Yoongi’s voice at the invite tells him otherwise. He’s really about to get his back blown out.

“I haven’t even touched him, you freak,” Taehyung sticks his tongue out at this, wiggling it and causing Jeongguk to smack his arm. 

“Please never do that again,” he whines, but Taehyung just laughs, shrugging off the request and marches right into the backstage room. This time, Yoongi seems to be expecting them. Not on his phone and is instead sitting on the couch inside the room, his hairdresser fixing his hair. For what, they don’t know, but his eyes zero in on the two guests as soon as they enter. 

“Hey! Thanks for the tickets again. You’re the best,” Taehyung praises, though steps aside for Yoongi to see Jeongguk, knowing that despite his politeness and hospitality, he’s really more interested in Jeongguk. Which is fine, Taehyung’s still trying to slide to RM’s dm’s anyways. But it’s only fair to thank him for allowing them both to come, though this is mostly for Jeongguk. 

“No problem. You guys seemed to have a good time last time, so I decided to treat you again. I felt bad that we couldn’t finish our conversation last time,” he looks at Jeongguk again, though they both know that they finished that conversation. Jeongguk bites his lip.

They talk for a while, mostly sharing banter and mostly Taehyung embarrassing poor Jeongguk, but it earns laughter from Yoongi so Jeongguk feels it’s a win win situation for him. But then Taehyung 'mysteriously' leaves them, saying that he'll see Jeongguk later and that he's got an exam in the morning. Jeongguk sees the look that Taehyung and Yoongi share and wonder if Taehyung is in on this plot? But it results in him being left alone with Yoongi, and is the reason why Jeongguk finds himself at Yoongi's apartment later, with a lapful of the rapper who's tongue is shoved down his throat. It escalated quickly, but he can't find it in him to care. Not with Yoongi grinding down directly against his crotch, growling into his mouth. Jeongguk is well aware that he’s a switch, and isn’t sure whether Yoongi plans on fucking him or expects to be fucked, but either way he’s prepared for both scenarios. 

“Take. . .this off. . fuck,” hands grope at his sweatshirt, greedy and cold. The feeling of the coolness of Yoongi’s fingers on the sliver of skin revealed from him tugging at the sweater makes Jeongguk’s breath hitch. It’s so delicious, so delightful. He fumbles a little as he blindly removes his hands from where they’d been digging into the rapper’s hips, rocking them back and forth against his own, to pull at his sweater. Pulling away from the softness of his lips to remove it and toss it away. 

In the split second of him removing the sweater, he finds his back pressed into the couch, Yoongi hovering over him. Eyes taking in the newly revealed skin now his for the moment. Curious yet experienced hands brush against the smooth, untainted skin. A blank canvas that Yoongi feels he’s free to mark and do as he pleases with. Jeongguk stares back up at him, then down at the pale hands against his chest. Watching as they ghost over the definition of his abdominal muscles, and up to his pecs. Pointer finger of both hands circling the small areolas before brushing against the pinks nipples, already pebbled from the earlier stimulation. He wants to be mortified with the moan that he lets out, Yoongi managing to figure out so early how sensitive his nipples are, but the way Yoongi looks at him has that dissipating. The look in his eyes is hungry, and a little mean. The sadist in him loves it. 

“Ah, you’re sensitive huh? Make that noise again for me,” Yoongi’s voice lowers as he focuses on tweaking and pinching the nubs. Thumb and forefinger working together as his head moves down. Peppering warm kisses from the hemline of Jeongguk’s pants across his abs. Over the ridges and grooves as he works his way up. Ignoring how the younger squirms beneath him, bucking up into his touch and whining out squeaky moans as Yoongi gets meaner, less gentle with his musings. At some point he starts biting the skin, sucking hickeys into the smoothness there to mark his territory. Jeongguk’s in heaven, if Yoongi can’t tell. 

“Hyung p-please,” he begs, unsure what for. Yoongi finds this amusing, chuckling at the desperation in his voice. 

“Please what? What do you want hyung to do?”

Honestly, he doesn’t know. He’s unsure if he wants more of this or if he wants something else. As he’s trying to figure this out, he feels something wet on his left nipple, then a bit of force. When he looks down, he sees fluffy ashy hair. 

Ah. 

A leg wraps around Yoongi’s waist as he grinds up into him, rutting desperately as his cock swells further into his jeans. It’s uncomfortable and he’s leaking precum. But he dares not tell Yoongi to stop, not at the way his tongue flicks over the pebbling nub like no tomorrow, sending jolts down his spine. Pleasant jolts of lust, of desire. It’s over moments later when Yoongi withdraws, sitting up on Jeongguk’s hips and reaches down to remove his own shirt, tossing it away and bending back down before Jeongguk has a chance to be amazed at the litheness of his body; to take in the pale, pristine skin. He’d seen a tattoo or two in the process of Yoongis stripping and Yoongi leaning back down, mouthing at his neck hotly and whispering filth into his skin. His body is on fire and he’s rock hard. This is a problem that needs to be fixed. 

But he can feel the thickness of the rapper’s own erection against his abdomen. Can feel how aroused Yoongi is and is pleased he’d managed to get him as horny as he himself was. He wants to leave marks too, thinks it’s unfair that Yoongi’s greedy mouth is leaving a trail of destruction up and down his body. He plans in his mind to return the favor later, but honestly doesn’t see a problem wielding battle scars from letting Yoongi take him in such a lewd manner. He’d dreamed about this far too many times and wondered was this a one time thing that would mean nothing, but in the time he’d spent in diving in headfirst into the Agust D fandom and in the short span of two weeks of knowing him, he was sure that perhaps he was a bit more than attached, and hoped it meant something deeper than just a quick screw on the couch. As great as this was, he knew he’d be devastated if that’s all this was. 

Hands are at the front of his jeans as Yoongi’s mouth presses a trail of kisses up from his neck over his cheek and to his mouth, chuckling against his cupid’s bow. Jeongguk finds himself giggling by reflex as well, hearing the snap of his button and the sound of his belt being unbuckled. 

“You ever had your cock swallowed?”

The question confuses him—is he asking had he ever had a blowjob?—and he regrets stopping to think, because when he zones back in with an answer, Yoongi’s scooting down his legs, pulling him by his arms back into a seated position. Moving to kneel in front of him on the floor, focused on getting his pants and boxers as far away from his body as possible. Jeongguk just watches, a little numb and unsure how to help. Yoongi seems to get it though, and shuffles the useless articles of clothing down his legs. Moving closer and leaning in to nose along the length of his cock. Hands on his thighs for leverage. Jeongguk should be embarrassed, but he’s not—oddly enough. He’s far too aroused to be embarrassed about having Yoongi’s mouth so close to him like this. 

Yoongi seems to get tired of that, wanting to dive right in. Without using his hands, he stares directly up at Jeongguk, making eye contact, and licks from his balls up to the glistening head of his cock, slowly. Taking in the taste and the texture before bringing a hand to hold it upright. Jeongguk swears, tilting his head back as Yoongi repeats the motions, eyes dropping to focus on the task at hand. Jeongguk spreads his legs apart for better leverage, almost sure he’s going to end up cumming right down Yoongi’s throat in the process of all this. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” he sighs as the rapper starts to wrap his lips around the tip, lapping up the excess wetness coming from the slit then sucks. Slowly, gently. Tongue cushioning the head as he slurps all over it. Sloppy, wet. The sounds echo up to his ears and Jeongguk just groans; the feeling and the sounds a bit too much for him. He wants to grab Yoongi by the head and fuck his throat but they’re not there just yet. Close, but not quite.

After a few moments of teasing, flicking his tongue through his slit and rubbing it all over the bulbous head, he starts to take him inch by inch into his mouth. His cock doesn’t fit all the way initially, but Yoongi seems to know what to do about this. His left hand wraps around what doesn’t fit and he jerks in tandem with his sucking. Bobbing his head up and down. He knows what he’s doing, and Jeongguk wonders should he be a little ticked that Yoongi’s done this before or thankful that he’s not a noob slobbering all over his dick like a teething baby. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t mind if he was new at this, because either way he’s sure he’d enjoy it. One of his hands shoots down to tangle into the pale blue locks shielding his view, lulled by the wet suckling noises and the suction from that heavenly mouth. Swears, praises, and filth pours out of his mouth, eyes scrunching closed as his hips involuntarily buck into the rapper’s mouth. He’s so horny it’s pitiful, and nearly blows his load when Yoongi removes his hand, easing him down his throat. So this is what he meant by swallowing cock.

“F-fuck yeah,” he stammers out, growling a little at the end because it feels heavenly. He’s not sure just yet who’s getting fucked but he knows for certain that if he’s doing the fucking he hopes Yoongi’s ass feels a lot like his mouth. Hot, warm. Tight. He’s nearly positive he’s going to cum like this. It wouldn’t be too bad, he thinks as Yoongi swallows around his length. Yoongi stays still for a moment, before pulling off with a sharp gasp, coughing a little and taking his erection again, jerking it sloppily. Using his own saliva as lubrication. 

“You like that?” Jeongguk nods stupidly. Bucking into that fist desperately. “You gonna cum?” He nods again. Yoongi seems pleased by this, and takes in a breath really quickly. Preparing himself for what he’s about to do. 

“Fuck my throat til you cum then. And then after I’ll return the favor.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know how to take this at the moment, too busy trying to get Yoongi’s mouth back on him, but knows that he’s glad he’d attempted to prep himself earlier. Yoongi takes that moment to give him what he wants, starting slowly from the tip and moving down. Inch by inch just like before but it’s a little quicker than last time. He gags, but stays down a little longer. Digging his nails into Jeongguk’s meaty thighs as if to tell him to go ahead. Jeongguk can feel his throat relax, and takes that as the green light to start. So he moves his hand back to his hair, his other following closely behind to tangle into the slightly dry strands. Getting a grip first before he rolls up, sending a sharp thrust down the rapper’s throat. He hears a gag, feels the hands tightening on his thighs almost as a warning, but for a moment he feels daring and does it again. And again, and again until he’s got a decent rhythm, chasing his orgasm which is shockingly close. He’s not even mad, considering this is the best blowjob he’s had in a while, and well. It’s Yoongi. He’s lasted longer than he’d anticipated, he thinks, but it only takes a few thrusts before his body tenses and he hisses out a sharp Yoongi as he cums in spurts down the rapper’s throat. Holding him there for a moment before Yoongi’s shoving at him. 

He releases him then, but Yoongi doesn’t shove him away. No, what he does instead is move to lick up his release, then sucks the remnants directly from his cockhead. Jeongguk’s sensitive, but that doesn’t make him shove Yoongi away.

When Yoongi finishes, he looks up at him, licking what had spilled onto the crease of his lip away as he makes eye contact with the younger, who’s trying to get a grip. Chest heaving up and down as he pants. Yoongi moves to stand, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him to stand. He nearly stumbles, but Yoongi either doesn’t pay attention or chooses not to comment. Instead focused on pulling his head down so that he can lick into his mouth, allowing Jeongguk to taste himself on his tongue. 

“Get all the way out of your clothes,” he breathes the command against Jeongguk’s mouth, and he wastes no time kicking the clothes away. Allowing himself to be led by Yoongi’s mouth as the rapper starts to fumble with his own belt, backing them towards his bedroom—or so Jeongguk thinks. 

“You two are so gross,” Taehyung complains, sitting across from Jeongguk and Yoongi who’re cuddled up into each other. Its gross, really. Jeongguk rolls his eyes, leaning into Yoongi more who’s arm tightens around his waist to keep him close. Taehyung pouts. 

“Are you jealous that you didn’t meet RM and end up dating him?” Jeongguk’s playful, grinning cheekily at his fussy friend who just looks away, the answer obvious as he picks up his iced tea and loudly sips from it. 

“I’m actually really good friends with Namjoon, I can hook you guys up,” Yoongi tries to be helpful, reaching for a potato chip. Shoving it in his mouth. Both Jeongguk and Taehyung stare at him. Flabbergasted. Yoongi looks up at them slowly, back and forth between the two. 

“What?”

“Namjoon is fucking RM?!”

Yoongi looks confused. “No? Namjoon is RM. Wait, how do you know Namjoon?”

Taehyung lets out a screech which draws attention to them, grabbing his head in both hands and laying it on the table. Jeongguk simply laughs as Yoongi looks at them in confusion, obviously left out of the loop and mortified at the noise that came from Taehyung.“He’s our TA for our lit class. Taehyung’s been ogling him since he walked in and never put two and two together. Small fucking world,” Jeongguk cackles, reaching for his soda as Taehyung lays his head on the table, having what appears to be an existential crisis. Yoongi still doesn’t understand, but finds it funny nonetheless. 

“Hyung, please get me backstage tickets. I need them.”

“I don’t know about that. Not everybody hits it off backstage like we did. Plus, I think Namjoon likes someone else,” The look on Taehyung’s face is priceless. Even Jeongguk looks a little sad about that, but Yoongi laughs, shaking his head. 

“I’m kidding. We can do a double date or something. Just don’t be too much of a, whatever you are, or you might scare him away,”

“Do you mean a thirsty hoe?”

“Yeah that,”

“Guys, I’m right here,” Taehyung whines, straightening up. He thinks for a minute, before looking at Yoongi with puppy dog eyes. 

“Hyung pleaseeeee. I’ll love you forever,” he begs. Yoongi pretends to think about it, but acquises and hands him his phone. 

“Here’s his number. Don’t be weird about it or you might scare him away,” he instructs, but Taehyung simply snatches the phone and gets up, waddling away with it pressed to his ear. Yoongi sighs, then looks at Jeongguk. 

“You weren’t like this, were you?” he asks as Jeongguk shovels two fries into his mouth. He feels caught, nearly chokes, but then shakes his head as he washes it down with his soda. 

“No. I was less eager to meet you,” he admits, averting his eyes. “I was scared I’d fuck up and you’d hate me.”

“Nonesense,” Yoongi insists, stealing one of Jeongguk’s fries. Jeongguk rolls his eyes. 

“It’s not everyday you meet your idol, you know. I was scared I’d make a fool of myself and you’d kick me out or something,” Yoongi seems to think this over, but snorts. 

“You made a fool of yourself and I ended up fucking you until you screamed like a wanton bitch so honestly you had nothing to worry about.”

Jeongguk chokes on his soda, sputtering out and wheezing at this. Taehyung returns then, smirking as he slides back in the booth in front of them, handing over the phone. 

“I have a dick appointment with RM tomorrow at 7. Jeon, I need to borrow those leather pants you used when you and Yoongi-hyung fucked.”

Jeongguk chokes again.

↬ x.

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