Summery: Alternatively: Yoonkook fuck in a strip club
______________________
You coming?"
Yoongi glances up from staring into his whiskey. A few of his colleagues are standing, downing the last of their glasses. Yoongi knows where they're heading; upstairs to a different bar, one where money can buy you a lot more than a drink. Yoongi idly wonders if they've told their wives where they are tonight. He doubts it.
"No, I'm heading back."
"To the office or home?"
"Aren't they the same thing for him?" one of the more junior associates snorts, a small act of alcohol-fuelled bravado before he visibly wilts under Yoongi's narrowed gaze.
"Sure we can't tempt you?" another one colleague asks, one of the guys more on Yoongi's level.
"Really not," Yoongi confirms, taking another long, slow sip of drink. "Go. Enjoy."
Half-hearted farewells are exchanged, as friendly as they ever manage. Yoongi wouldn't call his colleagues friends as such, but he supposes they're as close to it as he gets. His work doesn't leave much time for forming any other meaningful relationships.
Everyone leaves but Yoongi's very much aware of a figure staying sat on one of the seats to his left. He doesn't need to turn to guess who it is.
"So, you're going home?" Taehyung checks.
"Yeah," Yoongi shrugs, although the idea of sitting alone in his apartment doesn't seem all that tempting right now. He wonders if that far-too-loud chaebol who lives above him is throwing another one of his parties. Apparently money can buy Yoongi city views and a lot of square meters, but not peace and quiet. Yoongi assumes whoever lives above him must have even more money – or enough connections - to so continually break the noise restrictions.
"Unless you have a better plan?"
Yoongi doesn't mind Taehyung. Sure, Yoongi disliked him at first, loud and enthusiastic and trying too hard to prove himself. But he was from a hard-up family in Daegu, same as Yoongi, and so Yoongi felt some kind of obligation towards him. He knew how it felt to cover up your roots, to learn a new city, to work your way up from poor to rich. Under Yoongi's careful guidance he's risen to the higher ranks of the company with ease. Yoongi may not have friends at his work, but Taehyung's the nearest anyone's got.
"We could go downstairs?"
Taehyung suggests it with feigned nonchalance but Yoongi sees right through him. He gets it. Yoongi's possibly the only person he can be open like this with.
Yoongi can't remember how it started really. How they first found themselves leaving the private member's club they're currently sat in, seeking out the rumoured bar downstairs, an exact replica of the bar upstairs only with men instead of women working the room. But it happened, and happened again, and again, and Yoongi doesn't mind, really. It's nice to unwind with a whiskey; even better with a good-looking guy to look at while doing so. He trusts Taehyung to keep their visits quiet – it would be too damaging to both of their careers if it got out.
Taehyung finds them seats once they're inside and Yoongi orders more drinks. Someone's dancing on the stage, low, throbbing bass bleeding through the speakers. There are a few people dotted around the room but it's not busy. It never is in here. The money required to be a member of the main club is enough to keep numbers low, and the amount of men who wish to indulge in this particular guilty pleasure even lower.
