Thanks To My Ex

"Fucking Jimin," Jungkook grumbles unhappily as he watches his friend saunter away, disappearing into the crowd on the dance floor.

Jungkook had been dragged here by a well-meaning Jimin who insisted that he needed to fuck away the heartache.

He promised not to leave Jungkook alone. Promised he'd make sure they'd have a good time, sticking together until Jungkook found someone worth fucking.

Again, Jimin's words, not his.

All of these promises, yet here he is; alone at the bar, slumped over his second glass of whiskey– about ready for his third– eyes glancing at the people around him periodically but mostly locking them on the small clock sat on a shelf behind the bar.

Leering at it, wishing he'd suddenly develop Doctor Strange-like powers so he could speed up the clock, fast forwarding to the time when the workers start kicking people out to close the place down for the night.

Granted, he could always order an Uber, tell Jimin he left with someone to instead head home alone– how he's been trying to convince himself he likes to be– but he'd feel bad.

Jimin has good intentions. And Jungkook knows he's spent far too much time wallowing in self pity since whatever was going on with his maybe Ex ended weeks ago.

He did need to get out of their apartment, something he hadn't really done for a sad amount of time, he just finds himself wishing this wasn't the place he'd been dragged to.

Dragged to and then abandoned.

"Fucking Jimin," he huffs in annoyance before lifting his glass to his lips for another large gulp.

Lowering his glass back down onto the coaster, in front of him, his attention gets pulled towards a deep, almost nice sounding voice that anyone who didn't know the owner of like Jungkook unfortunately does would think was genuinely kind.

A voice he has been telling himself he'd be better off never hearing again.

It's the truth. He knows that. Even so, he can't help the flush that rises on his cheeks at the honey dripping, baritone voice.

"Hey stranger," he says casually and Jungkook doesn't have to see his face to know he's wearing that annoyingly sexy smirk of his.

Jungkook doesn't say a word. Doesn't feel like he needs to. He just nods his head, fighting every urge to turn around.

When he feels a hand drag across his shoulders before gliding down his arm, he turns his head just enough to glare at the hand that's touching him.

"Move your hand, Taehyung." He voices, hoping he sounds stern, more confident in his attempted disdain for Taehyung.

"Oh come on, dove. You're not still mad are you?" Taehyung pouts in mock offense, dropping himself down on the stool next to Jungkook.

Jungkook finally raises his eyes to look at Taehyung.

"Did you just come over here to mock me?"

Taehyung appraises the younger's features lazily for a deafening few seconds before speaking.

"It's not like we were official, Kookie," he clicks his tongue with a shrug. "I never offered or asked you to be official. To be my boyfriend. I told you from the start I didn't want anything serious. If anything, you hurt yourself."

He keeps a lazy smile on his lips as he continues to rake his eyes over Jungkook's features.

"Despite this mess you've made, I still can't stop thinking about you," he comments, voice barely above a whisper. "You continue to be the prettiest thing I've ever seen."