#i finally got to break out my psy playlist for something mwahahahaha

[jafndaegur]

I’m Sorry, What Sort of Bar is This?

Jumin x MC

Inspired by this strand that @thatsmyjuman , @mrs-han , and @juminhandfs started up. I want you guys to know. You started this

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Easily slipping his entourage of bodyguards, and blatantly removing himself from the presence of wife applicant #47 and his father, Jumin now found himself in a corner street bar. Mind you, it did not occur often, but time to himself away from the opulence and gaudy lifestyle he tended to seek out every once and awhile.

Even he enjoyed some simplicity and peace and quiet—for as much as he teased Zen for such things. 

Or perhaps peace and quiet took a step too far. The bar was rowdy. People were crowded in the corners by flatscreens for what seemed to be some sort of sport while others huddled around pool tables, seemingly intent and focused on a pool game. Chatter raised high through the atmosphere, and people pressed far too close to each other for any sort of comfort. Jumin’s lips twisted and he loosened his tie, keeping his head down. Just one glass of water and back out into his normal world. He highly doubted such a...mediocre institution like this would serve good wine here.

He slid down at the front counter and the barkeep sidled down to him, flipping a couple of glasses onto the counter while he filled them partially with club soda.

“Sir?”

“Just water,” Jumin tried to act like a normal, middle class person; he wanted to not draw attention to himself, not after he had so neatly evaded his current problems.

“Anything to eat?” The man huffed, clearly hoping he wasn’t going to give out a free glass.

“No.” Rubbing his temple, Jumin felt his jaw twitch. “Thanks.”

Sighing and rolling his eyes, the keep slid a glass of water and moved on to other customers. Jumin suddenly felt the most childish urge to stick out his tongue. Rude. He was a patron—albeit not a paying one—but a patron nonetheless. Was a glass of water too much to ask for? 

Someone pulled into the barstool beside him, and for a moment, he felt the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end. Tch. He took a good dreg of his cold, non-alcoholic drink—something he was particularly regretting now—and tried to ignore whoever it was. His brow furrowed. He didn’t offer them his attention, after earlier, the executive director was most definitely not in the mood to offer his time to someone who only wanted it because he was himself.

“Hey.”

His gaze flicked up automatically and he wanted to smack himself. Still he wasn’t entirely lost upon himself. Jumin crossed his arms over his chest, and neatly folded one leg over the other, a most definite signal to leave him alone. Instead, the person in front of him smiled coyly. A young woman wearing a heavy knitted sweater. She leaned forward on her seat, cheek cradled in her hand while she blinked owlishly in his direction. How unclassy, he thought, wondering whether she would ask for his time, his autograph or something else having to do with the C&R enterprise. Heck, if any of those options happened, he’d do the bartender a favor and order the most expensive item on their food menu—maybe a club sandwich—and shove it down this unruly woman’s throa—

“How you doin’?” The young woman winked at him.

“No you may not—” He started mechanically before double taking. And then triple taking. Quadruple even. “Sorry, but, what?”

She tilted her chin. “I said, how you doin’?” Her smile was almost roguish.

Jumin had the most insane desire to either slap her for her cocky tone or commend her for being...almost polite for asking how he felt. “I’m...I’ve been better.”

“Oh.” That caught her unawares and her eyes widened a bit. “I’m sorry. Everyone has their Mondays I guess, huh?”

He wanted to growl. So she knew who he was. “Nevermind that, what do you want?”

“Rude, how do you know I want something?” She snapped back, drumming her fingertips along her skin.

Jumin watched with a cocked brow. The tips of her fingers looked softly like velvet and just as warm— “Please. Everyone wants something from me.”

The young woman looked him up and down, her gaze heavy with appraisal. His knee twitched, and it was time for him to leave. Speculation of who he was weighed on his shoulders and he wondered what it would have been like if that weren’t the case.

“I bet,” she finally said, leaning forward, as she crossed her arms and rested her head on them. “It must be hard being so pretty.”

  Wha- 

“I...I beg your pardon?” Jumin sat back in his seat, staring at her dumbly. Thoughts of leaving were momentarily forgotten.

Her golden eyes narrowed and her smile twisted a bit. “Cat got your tongue, good lookin’?”

What on earth sort of bar did he step into with a person like this?

“Anyways, I own a thrift shop—”

Ah, there it was, asking for money.

“I’ll take all sorts of donations off people.” She looked up at him from her thick lashes and gave him a smug look. “Like your pants for example. I’d like to take those off you.”

Jumin opened his mouth. Shut it. Open it again for a scolding. Shut it again at in utter disbelief.

That smooth look she kept on her expression melted away quickly to something a bit more worried; she bit her lip, her cheeks flushed, and she glanced everywhere except for his direction. Her fingers twisted into the sleeve of her sweater.

“Too much?” She whispered.

He scratched the back of his head. “Maybe the right amount of enough?”

“I don’t get out often,” she muttered. “My name’s MC, I’m socially awkward, I’m an international student at the university here, and I think you’re cute.”

Jumin snorted. “Apparently you hardly know me.”

“For now,” her golden gaze shifted back up to him and that confident look slowly seeped back into her countenance.

Humming, he tipped his chin down and rested it on his chest. Well this was interesting. He wondered how long he could run with something like this. “My name is Jumin. I’m not socially awkward, I’m not an international student, and I believe you are quite insane.”

“Well that’s a start!” Laughing, MC wiggled in her chair with a sudden lit-up expression. “Well, if you’re not too busy today, do you mind adding me to your to-do list?”

“If you’re going to talk to me, we have to end your ludicrous pick-up lines,” he chuckled, finally looking up again.

“I dunno,” she drawled with a mischievous smirk. “You looked like you were feeling down, I’d like feeling you up.”

He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the situation. Maybe it was because MC really didn’t know just who she was flirting with like this. In literally the most unrefined, most undignified way. But for some reason, Jumin laughed.