Jin Oneshots

The Night Is Young

Seokjin, perhaps, considered he had been with the wrong crowd his entire life.

He came with two people in this club. Hoseok disappeared the moment they walked in. There's a huddle of people on the dance floor huffing and puffing their joints and chanting on a dancer in the middle. The possibility of that being Hoseok is big, but Seokjin distastefully grunts at the thought of digging through the crowd, attempt to pull his friend out, and eventually get a casual "no" just because Hoseok loves and lives for the hype. Namjoon is a mystery. Seokjin swore he had kept a keen eye on that dummy, but he's nowhere to be seen. Had he been as noticeable as Hoseok, much less owned a cinch of Hoseok's loudness, he would have found him by now. Then again, Namjoon did say he was eyeing for a quick release because of a devastatingly exhausting week when they were driving here so he supposed that's that.

Seokjin is alone. Vulnerable and ill-tempered. Scratch that. He was pissed. It wasn't his idea to go partying in a Friday night. He had it all planned out. His Friday spent all bundled up in duvet, laptop tastefully perched on his bed, and let himself wallow into a series of good BL movies from Thailand. He would rest when he passes out, because dang it, tomorrow was going to be weekend and weekend means no classes and a forced leave from his part-time job in a nearby pastry café. His perfect plan squandered with the promise of "spending the night on ecstasy and cloud nine and an eventual exhilarating rush of adrenaline that is unavailable in the four corners of your dorm", as Hoseok would put it, unfulfilled and now his company has successfully dispersed in the crowd and lil'o Seokjin is sitting here awkward with a solid grimace.

He'd taken a note to block Hoseok's phone number for a month and maybe a week for Namjoon because the poor guy was a pushover and must have been coerced by Hoseok anyway. Probably with the same promise, but the very least, Namjoon had a personal goal and, might be, getting accomplished tonight.

Sighing, he dunked his chosen poison, slipped a neat bill, and readies to call it a night. He had eyed some that piqued his interest, but he was just not that motivated to pursue them. 10 p.m. his wristwatch says as he cards through drunken nobodies and wasted gals, but a hand catches his wrist and he twists to see to whom this artfully inked, rugged hand belongs to.

It was dim in the club with only the piercing lights beaming as it follows the strum of the beats. Seokjin had to squint to have a workable look at the man and what he makes out of the available visibility seemed to not disappoint him. The guy was shorter than him but was not short in general physique. The seam of his shirt was fighting for space as his biceps bulge. Poor shirt, Seokjin thinks. He had some chiseled facial features and his eyes are strong and confident. His gaze is already inviting and suggestive.

"Can I help you?" Seokjin said in feign innocence. He knows what's up, but he wasn't cheap.

"Not really. Just saw you hanging out in the bar. Came with two others didn't you?" His voice has a tad bit of husk, but it's smooth nevertheless.

"Should I worry that I have been eyed this whole time by a stranger?" The strangers grip isn't intense and Seokjin could pry them easily. Actually, Seokjin has the choice to slip his wrist back with little to no strength.

Said stranger scoffed and eliminated a little bit of distance seeing Seokjin's concealed desperation to get a clear picture of his face. "You're cute, but not that cute." This guy is young. Probably in his freshman year. Such a waste, Seokjin thinks.

"So I suppose you just eye people randomly? Do the patrons of this club usually have average taste?" Seokjin's turn to scoff. This guy isn't bad. If he was in the mood, he would've hit on him first. "'Nyway. I don't do it with younger people. Go match with your own peer or something." He's not going to lie, that's his honest principle. He's not discriminating, he just likes the more seasoned ones better.