Min Yoongi
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"These look like fucking porno clothes."
Yoongi fingered the rouge top coat. Criticizing the 'sexy party clothes' that Hoseok lent him for the night was the only way he could still keep up his tough mask. Being in skin tight leather pants that left little to the imagination only made him flush and glance around the car. Finding shelter anywhere but Hoseok's prying eyes.
"Put a sock in it Yoongi." Hobi bit his lip. "I'd drop anyone at that party if I could bang you."
Although unwanted, especially from his best friend, Yoongi's cheeks were starting to burn like the inside of a hot pocket. Not being used to compliments, raunchy or not, was a great weakness. He had to ice this down, a cold remark would be perfect right about now.
He mustered up an arctic glare and whipped his eyes to meet Hoseok's. "I wanna bang you too, with a shot gun, in the brain." Satisfied with that, and adding a shut up in there for good measure, he was back to his stone cold faced self.
The insulted red head dramatically gasped and held a hand to his chest. "I thought we were friends, and you betray me like this." He could barely finish his sentence before bursting into laughter. He'd been joking the entire time, but Yoongi failed to pick up on it. That reaction would give Hobi teasing material for a week or two at least.
Yoongi ignored him, more embarrassed now than before. The uber driver that was escorting them to the event informed them of their arrival at the small house that was strewn with graffiti.
The bass from the booming music outside flooded Yoongi's ears as he stepped out of the silver car.
Oh what a fun night this would be.
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String Theory ||YOONMIN||
Fanfiction"P-Park Jimin" "Cute, your soulmate must be lucky to have you Mr.Park Jimin." "Wh-What?" "That'll be $7.76." --- In which soulmates are bound by red strings tied to their pinky fingers. Yoongi doesn't have a soulmate though, right? At least, not an...
