Royal Ace Lounge

⑰Are You For Real?

 
Taehyung stared at the Royal Ace Lounge’s entrance, and a quiet sigh stuttered out of him, his breath clouding in the air in front of him by the freezing cold.

It had been four days since the incident with Jungkook in his office, and they still hadn’t said a word to each other. Jungkook seemed as if he didn’t care one bit; his stoic facade had returned, he didn’t glance his way, and he took a different host to his office every night.

Sure, Taehyung told him he didn’t want anything from him anymore, but fuck, he didn’t mean it. Jungkook’s behavior just frustrated him to an extent he couldn’t handle. And how could he talk to him after what he said? He couldn’t work up his courage, no matter how many times he tried.

So he let him be and stewed in a mire of sullen exasperation when he encountered the hosts fondling him almost all night long, when he caught him leaving the bar with a host behind him, when Jungkook didn’t bother looking at him, as if he didn’t exist.

Taehyung’s bubble of bitter rumination snapped at the feel of arms wrapping around him, and he smiled as he hugged his best friend back. “Hey.”

“Hey, Tae. Sorry I’m late. My cousins are in town and they didn’t let me leave on time.”

“It’s okay.”

Jimin patted his back and released him. He detected at once that Taehyung’s smile held no vibrancy and his eyes didn’t twinkle as usual. “Still not talking with Jungkook, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I told you, you should just talk to him. Not start fucking again, but talk to him to sort this out. He’s our boss, anyway.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Tell him you don’t want things to be awkward between you. Tell him to forget about what happened and start anew.”

Jimin was right, but the problem was Taehyung didn’t want to forget about what happened. He just wanted to understand why Jungkook acted so distant after having an intimate moment.

“Fine,” Taehyung muttered. “I’ll try.”

The two entered the building, left their things in the changing room, and hung out at their usual, somewhat secret spot to continue chatting until it was time for their shift.

 
The sophisticated bar filled with customers soon, but Taehyung’s mind wasn’t on them — it drifted to Jungkook, like his eyes did towards the entrance every ten seconds to check when he would appear.

He was determined to talk to him tonight. He had to. He couldn’t let another day pass with that aching awkwardness roiling between them.

An instant tightness curled around his limbs and girdled his form at the sight of Jungkook stepping into the bar. He darted his head down, afraid that Jungkook would catch him staring. Taehyung rehearsed the speech he had prepared in his head once more, and his pulse quickened automatically.

Despite the anxiety that boiled in his gut, he rallied any scrap of his courage and slid off the stool, still facing the counter. His traits hardened with resolve, his hands clenching into fists, and with a nod to himself, he was ready. The same emotion underlay his rotation towards Jungkook’s table, but Saerin popping up in front of him demolished his bravery, which he had worked so hard to build up.

“A customer asked for you. Table twenty-seven.”

Taehyung’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Worst timing ever,” he said under his breath, then thanked her and dragged his feet towards the designed table.