BTS One Shots

The Red Rose

Author's Note: This is implied smut, so if that bothers you, I wouldn't continue reading. Thanks :)

One shots (Namjin):

The Red Rose was a famous prostitution club.

It was owned by a man named Seokjin Kim, who was a tall man, with black hair and dark brown eyes.

He was strict on his employees, forcing them to follow a certain diet, and maintain a certain weight, while keeping a reputation as a perfectionistic man.

He was also engaged to be married to a young woman named April, who was a socialite with silky black hair, and beautiful gray eyes.

But, unfortunately, he wasn't in love with her.

In fact, he was in love with one of his employees, a young man named Namjoon Jung, who was a couple years younger than him.

He worked there so that he could take care of his father, who suffered from dementia, not doing well.

Thankfully the pay was well, meaning that he had enough money to support the two of them, along with enough to purchase the medications.

He was a couple inches shorter than his boss, and had chestnut brown hair, along with golden hazel eyes that sparkled gold in the sunlight.

He was also in love with his boss, but knew that there was nothing that he could do about it, due to the fact that they wouldn't work together.

I mean, the older male was engaged, while he was a simple employee, who continued to admire his boss from afar with love in his eyes.

That was, until his boss came to him one night with a preposition- one that was surprising, catching him off guard.

One that he couldn't turn down.

—––––––––

"I want you to have sex with me," the older male told him on evening, keeping his tone of voice calm, while standing in front of him.

He was sitting on the bed in one of the private rooms at the back of the club, his golden hazel eyes staring at his boss with disbelief.

"And if I refuse?" He asked, his tone of voice shaky, showing that was thinking over his options.

"Then I'll fire you. You like your job, don't you kid."

He just nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to stop him from making a scene over the fact that he was called a kid.

He was twenty one for God's sake, he wasn't a kid, but he just kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting to get fired.

After all, he loved his job.

"It'll be a weekly occurrence," his boss said again, interrupting his thoughts, while getting to the good part.

"And I'll pay you double the amount. You're to meet me here every Friday, do you understand?"

"Yes sir," he just muttered, continuing to sit still on the bed, aware that the older male was scanning him from head to toe.

"Will you do it?"

His words were harsh, causing him to flinch, but he tried not to show it, keeping a straight posture.

"Yes sir, I'll do it," he just muttered softly, lowering his gaze, while giving in to his boss's command.

"Good. We'll start next week."

He left the room after that, slamming the door behind him, leaving his younger employee on the bed.

What the hell did he get himself into?

—————

"I love you," the younger male told him that evening, after they collapsed onto the bed after a rough, messy round of sex.

It's been a year since they started sleeping together, and a lot has changed since then.

"I'm married, Namjoon," he just stated, staring up at the ceiling, while aware that his employee was falling asleep next to him.

"So? It was your idea to start this, Seokjin, and you still haven't told me why."

Because I'm in love with you, he wanted to say, but didn't, keeping those thoughts to himself.

It was true- he wasn't in love with his wife.

He was in love with the younger male instead, but knew that there was a lot that was stopping them from being together.

For example, he never came out to his parents, due to the fact that they were homophobic, or his wife, who was madly in love with him.

It was an arranged marriage, meaning that he had no choice but to marry her, since he wanted to keep the family business.

The Red Rose used to be owned by his father, but was passed down to him once he reached the age of eighteen, having no choice but to take it.

He didn't like the idea of prostituting men, sure, but knew better than to talk back to his parents, meaning that he kept his feelings to himself.

And it's been that way for the past seven years.

The sounds of snoring got his attention, and he smiled softly, aware that the younger male was fast asleep at this point.

He just wrapped his arms around his waist, before pulling him closer, not caring that his wife would get suspicious at the fact that he never came home that evening.

He didn't care about that- all he cared about was being in the arms of his crush, even if he had to keep his feelings to himself.

And he hoped to confess someday.