𝚋𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚜 || [𝙱𝚡𝙱]

[•Fantasy•]

Ship; Yoonmin

Dom // Jimin
Sub // Yoongi

[Song: Fantasy by bazzi, slowed for extra spice]

<Request by sanrio-baby>

Chefs kiss, sorry this took a long damn time...
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It’s his eyes that touch him first. 

Honey brown, staring at him from across the room, dripping out on his eyelashes. That’s no doubt an illusion, but it excuses the way his mouth is hanging open. 

The boy smirks when he catches it, of course taking a long look at him, up and down, to which Yoongi swallows through a dry throat. His eyes flutter, taking on the weight on his chest as soon as those eyes meet his, again. 

There's a point in the staring rivalry where they both give up a little, and Yoongi heads for the crowd of dancing bodies. He knows what he's wearing, and he knows how to move in it, what it looks like from where the boy is standing. White skirt and long socks, and a lilac sweater with a singular butterfly, and it's hanging down over his wrists. It hangs off his shoulder, revealing a dark purple strap, which can say a lot about what’s lying under his clothes. He sees it out of the corner of his eye, the way those eyes follow him to it, and then the little movement he makes, of putting down the red solo cup in his hand and walking towards it too.

Dorm parties usually aren’t the perfect place to find hookups, so Yoongi’s wary, but he can already feel it weaning off his shoulders at how his eyes look at him. Gentle but, depreciating, and unkind in some sort of lustful mix. Making him feel guilt as soon as he looks away, and it’s so fucking good. 

So when they're in the crowd, there's not much hesitation. Hands on his waist, turning him around, and saying something he can’t hear over the noise. Then he whispers it right in his ear, asking his name, and he gives it to him. The music is too fast and loud for the type of dance they do, but it’s not like he’s hearing it anyway. Over the lust and fog of attraction, his senses dim and he’s left to only feel as he closes his eyes. Maybe they’re too drunk, and that’s why there's no second thoughts, or awkward looks. Just touches upon touches, little caresses to his face and neck, one hand on his back pulling him closer.

“I’m Jimin.”

Yoongi nods slowly, opening his lips a bit, and looking at him through his eyelashes. The alcohol on his tongue, spit dripping onto his lower lip when he bites it, eager for it to be replaced with Jimin’s. 

“You wanna go get a drink with me?”

He nods again, letting his hand be taken and dragged away, towards the kitchen which is lit with a dim yellow light. The room they had been in is flashing an array of different colors, so the transition is refreshing, his eyes blinking a couple times. In the dimmer light, Jimin’s features are highlighted much better, and he can see those eyes much closer. 

Jimin gets them drinks, handing him one of the red cups, and watching as he takes a sip. He follows, doing the same, before he steps forward. Yoongi immediately finds himself stepping back, until his body is against the kitchen counter, and the boy is right in front of him. One hand is pressing into the surface next to him. 

The room feels like it’s sparkling every time they look at each other, a fantasy, with the honey in Jimin’s eyes, and the purple clothes on his own body. Every sense is fueled by the aesthetic feeling, the glitter over reality, probably mostly because of the alcohol in their system.