𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒 ✦ jikook

t w e n t y . f o u r

Fuck. That. Shit.

Has been all Taehyung could think of since he was dismissed from work. His black Vans heavily pound on the dusty sidewalk while he loosely buttons up his white shirt with laces that are enough to make out his back. He leaves his glasses at home, hazelnut brown with a hint of golden sheens under the sodium street lamps, heaving the passion of meeting Jungkook at Devil's Curse and the effort of not being a third wheel. He must meet Jungkook, he sees the brightness written all over his soon-to-be-boyfriend's face, glowing with pure jubilance when he leaves the station as Taehyung worriedly hurries off to where erotic notes blaring, colorful lights pouring down buildings until in front of him is a purple-shaded block with elaborate and exquisite neon handwritings:

Devil's Curse

It's now or never.

The curtains blocking the dressing room from the stage slides open, revealing a finely suited Hoseok looking at his Rolex impatiently. His eyes scan all of the dancers in search for the slightest errors. Different from every day, he looks impressive and handsome, Jimin has to admit. With his shiny golden Rolex decorating his wrist. Slim, veiny hands correcting his tie into place and hair that's styled, parted in between. A true gentleman and daddy aura radiates from where he's standing but inside that manly and almost chilling, badass even facade, is a soft teddy which loves to cuddle and enjoys simple Thursday movie nights.

"Places everyone." He clasps his large hands together. Sounds of dancers shuffling into their arranged positions, faces high on cloud nine ready to burn under the spotlight. "I want you to do your best tonight."

"Hey, handsome." Jimin jokes as he approaches by the curtains, his hands reaching for his friend's tie and tugs on it, startling Hoseok. "Lookie, lookie, a crème brûlée with sugar-daddy crisp and fluffy soft custard base begging to be tasted."

Hoseok laughs and lightly pushes Jimin away, getting his implication. "Well look at you my precious porcelain vase. Ready to impress somebody?"

"Somebody?" Jimin raises his eyebrows, he notices the suit: Hoseok's favorite and only on special occasions will he take that out and throw it on him. His mind wanders to Jungkook but he can't possibly be that early here. His shift ends late, maybe it ends now even and that bunny boy wouldn't dare to skip one of his precious showers to impress anyone with his sweaty aroma. Right then, Hoseok lightly slides the heavy wine-red curtains and both of them secretly poke their heads out. Hoseok uses his other hand to point where a lonely, slim figure with dark, raven hair sitting on a bar stool. His black attire blending in perfectly in the dark but the sheen of his pristine white skin, silver piercings and sharp gaze trailing on Poirot's body gliding down the golden pole is noticeable and can't be confused into somebody else's. 

Jungkook.

"It's your boyfriend there Jimin." Hoseok gives him a wink after seeing Jungkook switches his attention half way through Poirot's dance to have small talk with a female bartender. "Impress him so he's got a boner right there." 

"Wait- What? N-No way.." Jimin chokes on his spit and stutters nervously, he feels thankful because the dim lights will prevent Hoseok from noticing the blush now creeping on his soft cheeks, painting him a color of tomato red. Seeing that Poirot's dance has come to an end, he breathes in deeply, taking what's left of his courage and approaches the main stage after parting ways with his friend. He works his legs half way upstairs when he notices Jungkook, merging into the thick and murky blackness of the bar with his usual black attire. The Jeon officer licks his plump lips and frowns a little after downing a bit of his dry Martini. Jimin chuckles, noticing Jungkook is still young, maybe wild but he can't handle much strong alcohol for sure, since Martini is, in his opinion, a little bit "weak". However, what makes Jimin scrunches his eyebrows is the figure sitting beside Jungkook - a young, brown-haired lad wearing a lace white shirt and in no time, he makes out that it was Taehyng - the shy glasses boy working with Jungkook in his station. Wait, shouldn't Tae be somewhere else with Namjoon?

Why is he here?

Just then, Jimin's eyes blow wide when he sees Taehyung touching Jungkook's meaty and firm lap, rubbing it up and down, slowly leaning into him while Jungkook is calmly drinking his Martini. The worst part is he doesn't budge, he looks at Taehyung and smiles lightly, seemingly enjoying his company and not paying a little bit of attention to Jimin. Not even a bit.

Jimin's heart is swollen with envy and the fire in his stomach is creeping, heating his body while looking at Poirot collecting the cash that's thrown by old gentlemen on stage and back at Taehyung successfully drawing Jungkook into seduction. It dawns on him like a thousand bricks detonated from ancient walls: Taehyung is madly in love with Jungkook. Jimin notices the blushes on Taehyung face whenever Jungkook subtly touches him, the secret smiles when Jungkook compliments him on whatever-he's-doing...

Fucking hell. 

At the moment when Poirot strutters calmly downstairs with arms filled with crumbled cash that smelled like old, rotten weed and strong, overused perfume, he realizes that he too, is fond of the bunny. He wants Jungkook's attention. Not the hypocritical old well-suited men downstage whose pockets filled to top with cash or anyone.

Only the bunny cop - Jeon Jungkook.

"Fucking abort mission!" Jimin nearly screams, shoving and wedging his petite figure inside the dressing room where other dancers are preparing for their lap dances and Hoseok looking at him, indicating he just met an alien barging in. "Pardon?"

"Hoseok, I want to change my song tonight." He whispers huskily in Hoseok's ears when his friend croaks and approaches him. That distorts Hoseok's face into that of a monkey and with curiosity laced in his tone and written all over his face, he gasps in disbelief:

"What? Jimin, are you out of your mind? You know you can't change your daily routine until last minute. You haven't even rehearsed it nor gave it a shot! Why now?"

Jimin silences his friend's rants with his index and mouths out a "trust me" with him. Hoseok's facial features somehow relaxes but his eyes can't hide the concerns. Jimin knows what he's going to do is life-risking at least, it could ruin the reputation of Devil's Curse but somehow the passion of wanting to change, the craving of doing something unique, to be a spark that shines boldly from others and so deserving of the label he takes pride in every now and then: "the Chinese porcelain vase". 

"Okay. Now get on that stage and fucking be that golden spark I'm searching for." Hoseok gives in and gives Jimin a pat on his shoulders, voice encouraging which boosts his confidence even more. He feels electricity surge in his body, his skin itches, begging to dance and his hormones rush fast when he stands on stage drowning himself in the whistles and yellings of excitement and hunger, unkempt pink hair covering the purple sheen of his phoenix eyes and golden streams of light pouring down his clothed chest - a black lacy button up which channels his delicate white shoulder...