Yoonmin

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a shudder tingles down through jimin's spine as the heavy weight of someone's burning gaze pierces through the back of his skull.

and even at this distance, through the thick fog of cloying cigar smoke clinging to the air and the passing heads obscuring his vision, jimin can see the wealth clearly rolling off of this man in waves.

everything from the perfectly tailored suit, unquestionably of foreign origins, all straight edges and crisp lines, to the proud, genteel stance in the tilt of his chin, a kind of poise only inherent to those born into money, this stranger currently boring lasers into jimin's soul just screams riches and fortune.

curious eyes come into contact with an intense stare, and their gazes lock for just a brief moment, before jimin is sauntering down the long stretch of the stage, raised high above the ground to the crowds' shoulder level, until he reaches the center where a pole shoots up into the ceiling.

small fingers curl around the metal pole, using the nervous sweat collecting in his palms to slick up the surface and swing himself around, sliding all the way down to the floor and rolling his body back up along the straight edge.

jimin is nervous, muscles tensed with restlessness and mild anxiety, especially with that searing gaze clinging to his every movement like a second layer of skin.

he always gets nervous before he goes out on stage. this is honestly not how jimin thought he'd be paying his way through college.

but he is, and this is his job.

jimin, just a poor university student trying to make ends meet by doing what he can.

which essentially means stripping down into nothing but the tiniest, tightest pair of briefs that really leave nothing left to the imagination, swiveling his hips and waving his body across the stage for the viewing pleasure of sick old men and horny cougars with nothing better to do with their excessive overflow of time and money.

jimin really has seen it all, because he's been here for awhile now.

but this man is different.

he's young, for starters. probably not all that much older than jimin himself.

and handsome too, jimin has to admit, with soft, wavy brown fringe cascading gently over expressive, almond-shaped eyes.

but what really sets him apart from the regulars jimin usually deals with on a nightly basis, is that this stranger doesn't eye him greedily like a fresh slab of meat, the way most patrons do.

this man doesn't stare at him in a degrading manner that would usually have jimin's skin crawling, but still have to grit his teeth and bear it. because he needs the money.

this stranger's gaze is none of those, but it still makes jimin uncomfortable, in a different way. like he's being scrutinized, like he's being open apart from the insides as this man he doesn't even know probes through every secret and personal thought he holds dear, every past and present memory jimin owns inside his mind.

and this too makes his skin crawl, but in a different way.

keeping a careful distance in adherence to the company's no contact policy, jimin lowers himself to the floor and bodily slides across to the edge of the stage where the man with the expensive suit stands surrounded by other, just as equally wealthy looking men, most probably business clients or something of that professional nature.

a thick black cigar with the ghurka black dragon insigna stamped across the middle hangs loosely off his gently smiling lips, and jimin feels the heat of embarrassment flushing his cheeks. but he keeps moving, continues doing his routine, stretching his unnaturally flexible body in impossible ways, because this is his job.

and as jimin's second shift of the night comes to a close, the gentleman leans over the stage, wordlessly tucking three neatly folded bills into the hem of jimin's underwear, that smile still quirking the tip of the stranger's lip, to which jimin blushes even more furiously.

he quickly makes his exit off the stage and sprints to the dressing room before having the chance to collect any other tip, because jimin can feel his face all but melting off from how hot it burns.

"what's wrong with you?" jeongguk asks from his perch at the vanity table, eyeing jimin through the mirror as he carefully lines the rim of his left eye with a charcoal pencil.

"i don't know," jimin murmurs as he slides down the door, knees giving way as he collapses onto the floor.

jimin wraps his arms around his chest, suddenly feeling very naked, more so than he's ever felt before.

"i don't know."

jeongguk hums in response, but doesn't say anything further as he moves onto his right eye.

-

his last shift is finally over, and once again dressed in the comfort of his favorite pullover sweater, a pair of faded jeans, and his converse sneakers, jimin makes his way towards the back parking lot where his camry is waiting for him.

"i'm going!" he shouts inside the building a final time, spinning back on his heels as the door swings shut, and his body freezes on the spot.

because there's a very sleek, very expensive black maserati blocking his car.

and that strange man is leaning against the glossy surface.

jimin chokes a little on his own spit as the man slowly pushes away from the car, that haunting smile etched across his face.

he steps closer, and jimin feels the faint beginnings of hyperventilation blocking his throat.

"what's your name?" the man asks, and jimin struggles to find his voice.

he quirks a brow questioningly.

jimin feels like he's being patronized.

"jimin," he replies quickly, finally able to find his voice with the mild sense of indignity.

"my name is yoongi," the stranger offers his hand, and jimin just stares at the perfect, creamy, unmarred pale skin.

there's a moment of awkward silence in which the only thing either of them can hear is the faint sound of passing cars muted with distance, and the electric buzz of the overhead lights stationed across the parking lot.

the man, yoongi, carefully drops his hand by his side, but the smile is still in place.

"i want to take you for a ride, if you're interested," yoongi begins slowly, and jimin continues to stare at yoongi's hand, his mind a chaotic turmoil of indistinct thoughts crashing into each other.

that hand moves up to grab jimin by the chin ever so gently, tilting his head up so he can catch jimin's gaze.

"it's a one time offer. i never ask twice, and i do not take well to being kept waiting."

jimin is confused, but he's also intrigued.

how often does he ever get offers to be taken out by a rich, handsome man?

hardly ever.

seize the moment while he can, regret bad choices later.

something like excitement quivers in the pit of jimin's stomach, and he finds his head subconsciously nodding, luxuriating in the silky touch of yoongi's fingertips still cradling jimin's chin.

"good," yoongi releases his hold, and jimin's feet slightly falter at the loss of contact. "after you," yoongi opens the passenger door, and jimin slides into the plush, leather seats.

"nice car," jimin comments as yoongi comes around to the driver's side, the soft purr of the engine barely noticeable as he starts the ignition.

"thank you," yoongi replies as he expertly pulls out of the parking lot.

and jimin feels the thrill of adventure, the rush of adrenaline, pumping through his veins as they race away into the dead of night.

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