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As Jeongguk showers, Taehyung tries not to think about the comfort of hearing someone else in his apartment. The sounds of living. Lonely mornings have never been his favourite. He eats while standing at the kitchen counter, debating whether to put more sugar on his French toast, when he hears the bathroom door open. Taehyung still needs to shower, but he's not sure joining Jeongguk would have helped save any time.
"Your shower is so nice," Jeongguk says as he exits the hallway, bright eyes scanning the spacious living room. He's wearing the grey sweatpants Taehyung had given him. The pale blue button-up is thrown over his shoulders, exposing his chest and torso, well-sculpted and easy on the eyes.
"It's called a button-up for a reason," Taehyung reminds with a smirk, leaning against the counter and watching Jeongguk wander for a bit before joining Taehyung in the kitchen.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. "I could say the same about free will."
"It's my house."
"What, no shirt, no shoes, no service? I already got my service. I think I'll stay like this." The legs of a stool scrape over the floor as Jeongguk drags it closer to the counter. He leaves his shirt unbuttoned.
"Service?" Taehyung snorts. He piles a few pieces of French toast onto a plate, then pauses and adds a few more before he gives it to Jeongguk.
"Yeah," Jeongguk says. "Like dick." His fork scrapes against the plate and around a mouthful of food he adds, "Thanks."
"For the dick or the food?"
Jeongguk makes a choked sound as if he hadn't expected Taehyung to go along with it, and his shoulders shake with laughter. "Both?"
"You're welcome," Taehyung says with a sarcastic smile, putting his own plate and fork in the sink.
"Y'know, you're fun." Jeongguk smiles and looks at Taehyung, his gaze even, as if he's assessing him. Taehyung raises an eyebrow and fights the urge to look away. "I mean—best fuck I've had in a while. I could do that again. If you..." Jeongguk twirls his fork and then rests the end against his bottom lip, presses until the tines make small dimples. "If you ever wanna come by."
Of course. That sort of again.
"I might," Taehyung settles on saying. Jeongguk isn't even paying much attention, eating quickly, speaking around mouthfuls. For some reason it makes Taehyung happy. Haloed by the rising sun through the window, Jeongguk is a mere silhouette. Taehyung squints to see him better, then steps closer and leans on the counter.
"The show always changes, too. Like, yesterday was—girly. Heels and sheer. Sometimes I do this, like, policeman thing. Yeah, real fun, that one. You should see that." Jeongguk looks up at Taehyung and pauses, inhales and exhales, then smirks. "You'd like that one, Taehyung."
He reaches out with his free hand and hooks a finger in the loose collar of Taehyung's shirt, tugs him forward. The pull on the fabric places a light pressure at the back of Taehyung's neck, and he gives, dips forward, lets Jeongguk bring him closer until they're eye-to-eye. The sudden action makes Taehyung feel breathless, scorched, but he tries not to let it show, not when Jeongguk is so blasé and poised in comparison.
Taehyung cocks an eyebrow. "Would I?"
"Yeah," Jeongguk breathes, voice low, eyelashes fluttering as he regards Taehyung up close with a molten gaze. "You'd like it a lot. It's—powerful. Pulls in cash like you wouldn't believe."
Taehyung scoffs. If he were any worse with fronts, his voice would most likely shake. "Then maybe I will."
"Maybe you should." Jeongguk unhooks his finger from Taehyung's shirt and goes back to stabbing at his French toast. The tension dissipates as if a cool breeze had cut through it and blown it away. That side of Jeongguk—incorrigible, pleasure-driven, too impulsive for his own good—seems to stick around less and less. "I want you to," Jeongguk says around a mouthful of food, eyes glued to the edge of counter.
