Strippers Boyfriend - Taekook: Remastered

13

A/n Please vote/comment!

Taehyung pushed his hands deep into his pockets, feeling the seams strain as he marched down the hall.

He slowed to a crawl as he noticed the door numbers creeping up to the one matching the digits that had been engraved into his mind.

With a low gulp he stepped closer to the second to last door, taking his hands from his pockets to try and shake out his nervous energy.

Another step closer and he noticed the door was slightly open and muffled voices were inside.

He hovered outside the door, fist curled and ready to knock, hesitating as he heard Jungkook's familiar voice.

"Yes I know,"

It was quiet, almost inaudible, no more confident than that first time he'd invited him in for a hook up.

That made sense, he was nervous and shy, why would he sound so vulnerable in his own room?

Nerves pricked, he lowered his hand, letting it hang idly by his side.

"You're not seeing that gay friend anymore are you? I told you not to," An older man's voice spoke, hoarse but well spoken.

Taehyung peeked back down the hall, shuffling away from the door in quiet steps. The last thing he wanted was for Jungkook to have another thing against him for overhearing conversations he wasn't supposed to.

"No, I stopped talking to him," He heard anyway, their voices seemingly louder as he tried to mind his own business. He briefly wondered whether he was set up for some strange trap, being tested on how far he would go not to to overhear.

"Good. You need to behave Jungkook, don't make me bring you home,"

Sensing that the conversation had come to a natural conclusion Taehyung pursed his lips, looking along the flat white walls as though a place to hide would appear from one of the cracks.

The door swung open.

Taehyung cowered behind the thin ridge of the door frame, toying with his hands and avoiding eye contact with the stern glare from the older man.

His eyes were wide and dark, cut short by thick eyebrows that pointed down, permanent creases decorating his skin to hold a permanent scowl.

"Jungkook," He grunted. "Who is this?" Taehyung noticed the mans eyes darting down accusingly to his bare chest, exposed by his partially unbuttoned shirt.

He tugged at the fabric weakly to pull it closed.

"No one,"

The man huffed and leaned towards him as he passed. "Stay away from my son,"

Taehyung kept his head down, disliking the suffocating sensation that hung in the air from his presence but completely unable to act against it.

"I'll see you on Sunday, Jungkook,"

Taehyung turned to watch his figure moving down the hall, releasing a sigh of relief as the final door closed behind him.

"What are you doing here?"

His relief was short lived.

He spun to face Jungkook, frowning when he was met with the same eyes as his father, equally cruel and irritated, not quite as stifling but definitely comparable.

He shifted his weight between his feet like a nervous child, struggling apparent as he tried to phrase what he needed.

"I um, I wanted to talk to you," He uttered, breaking eye contact to glance around the room. He noticed Namjoon sitting at his desk, watching over them as well as Jimin's jacket draped over the back of his chair.