UGH! / SOPE & VMIN.

SIXTEEN, THERE'S A BOY.

THERE'S A BOY.

     A QUIET AND delighted moan leaves a pair of plump lips belonging to a certain jett chantelle, her fingers tangled in the hair of the boy with his lips currently between her legs. taehyung's been down there for a fair time, jett lounging comfortably on her chaise lounge and allowing the cross dressing boy to do whatever he wants, soul and blues records spinning in the background.

she makes a noise of quiet confusion when taehyung pulls away, lipgloss smeared onto his chin and a soft sigh leaving his sticky lips. he wipes the gross residue away with the back of his hand, looking vacant, like he can't focus, eyes and mind clearly somewhere other than the situation at hand. jett purses her lips, confused; this isn't a normal taehyung.

"tae, babes, what's up?" jett asks, confused by her friend-slash-hookup, reaching down to stroke his cheek. taehyung shrugs, shies away from her touch, and sits on the floor in his elton john-esque purple coat, shoulders slouched, hands in his laps. jett cocks an eyebrow, reaching for her glass of wine. "hon, if you're not finishing me off, give me a reason at least."

taehyung sighs again, scratching at the bottom of his mullet, his silver hoop earrings catching the light. "i dunno, jett, sorry..." his tone is quiet, and he looks a lot less like his cocky, confident self, and a lot more like that little boy in makeup from buckinghamshire, his eyeshadow smeared, the kohl outlining his waterline smudged and giving him a sleepless appearance. he looks like a confused teenage boy: like the taehyung jett met when he first got to london, like little reginald dwight hidden behind flamboyant elton john.

jett pulls her knickers back up to her hips and sits on the floor beside taehyung, putting a gentle arm around his shoulders. taehyung rubs at his face with the palm of his hand, groaning softly. "c'mon, lovely, tell me what's goin' on. you'll feel better." jett squeezes his shoulder, hoping that this is comforting.

taehyung bites at his lip. he's been... feeling lately. that's it. just feeling. and this is weird why, you ask? well, because he's not one for developing feelings about anything other than alcohol, weed and LSD — certainly he never develops feelings for people. the countless people he sleeps with, they mean nothing. he doesn't feel a thing for them, they're just someone who'll fuck him and kick him out of bed the next morning. countless guys and gals and beyond, taehyung's fucked them all: transsexual boys who he made feel masculine with reassuring words, supposedly straight boys who call him 'princess' when they fuck him, lesbians who said he looks feminine enough and he eats cunt just as good as any girl, leather gays who tied him up, inexperienced 'dunno if i'm really gay' gay boys who cried when he touched them, sad boys who smoked cigarettes and didn't make a sound except for a quiet choking-back-tears when they fucked him, orgies with girls and guys and more bodily fluids than what's healthy, kim 'i'm a fucking slag!' taehyung's had it fucking all.

and then there's jimin.

jimin isn't a tranny, or a straight boy, or a lesbian, leather gay, inexperienced boy, sad boy or one of a seven person orgy — he's so fucking different. he makes taehyung's head spin, he makes his heart beat differently, he makes him feel things.

and that's not normal.

"so, um," taehyung swallows nervously, looking at jett's warm umber eyes. "there's this boy..."

jett restrains a quiet laugh, smiling and rubbing taehyung's arm soothingly, kissing his temple softly and hoping to coax the information out of taehyung. he sighs, running his hand through his unkempt and greasy hair, crunching at the feel.

"so i slept with someone, nothing new..." taehyung chuckles sarcastically, not looking jett in the eyes. "gene's friend, from menswear? that jimin... god, he's lovely, you know, and he was just... different."