Hustlers || Taekook

Chapter 12

Jimin stood motionless in the shadow of the corridor, watching Jungkook laugh quietly at something Taehyung murmured against his neck, trying, and failing, to not feel bothered by the adorable, perfect romantic picture the two painted. Jungkook turned in Taehyung's arms, replying to whatever it was that had been said, as Taehyung just gazed at him with a soft smile on his face. Jimin curled his fingers into tight fists inside his pant pockets, holding himself completely, utterly still and silent, observing the scene from the sidelines. An ugly contortion of blackened negativity swirled within him, and envy lay bitter in his veins.

Why couldn't he have that? Why couldn't Yoongi touch him that gently, why couldn't Yoongi hold him the way Taehyung held Jungkook, why couldn't Yoongi look at him the way Jungkook stared at Taehyung? Why couldn't Jimin even hold Yoongi's hand unless he was absolutely, utterly, doubtlessly certain that Yoongi was in an alright mood, and he was allowed to touch?

Why did he have to be allowed to touch?

Yoongi was still in that room Jungkook had burst out of. Jimin had a feeling Jungkook and Yoongi wouldn't get along very well. Especially since Yoongi had a tendency to go out of his way to be an asshole when meeting someone for the first time. Jimin felt his expression darken ever more as Jungkook wrapped his arms around Taehyung's neck and kissed him, firm and unhurried, everything so comfortable, so natural and easy looking... and Jimin couldn't have that. He directed his stare away from the two, feeling a slight pressure build in his throat and across the bridge of his nose. God, if he ever just randomly grabbed Yoongi and kissed him...

Jimin felt the darkened rings around the pale skin of his wrists throb a little.

Taehyung grabbed ahold of Jungkook's hand and led them away, down the corridor out towards the main casino area. Jimin let out a long, controlled breath, and finally stepped out from the shadows, walking over to the closed door purposefully, not too slow or fast, the heels of his dress shoes clicking against the wooden floorboards, echoing down the empty walkways. Only yesterday he'd broken down crying, his bruised and battered body screaming out for help as he tasted blood on his tongue, his heart twisting and shutting itself away, and he'd considered that it wasn't worth it. But here he was, back again for more like nothing had happened, and when he saw Yoongi again he'd act like he wasn't limping ever so slightly, and Yoongi would act like he couldn't see it. He opened the door and entered the room, shutting it behind him.

"-because if that's considered as the top in this hellhole, we might have to go through a fucking screening process and kick out about half those rich, useless fuckers out there. What do they come here for? To lose?" Yoongi was talking to one of the other players, snorting in disdain, arm propped up on one knee as he sat comfortably on the carpet, flicking his hair out of his eyes. Everyone's eyes flicked to Jimin as he stepped into the room, but Jimin couldn't care less about the others, unabashedly, unapologetically focusing on only Yoongi's gaze sliding over to meet his, the slight narrowing of his pretty eyes and the set of his jaw. Yoongi didn't make any gesture of invitation, but also didn't turn away or display open unwelcome, so Jimin silently made his way over and sat down by his side.

"I met your best friend just now." Yoongi started with a deceptively light tone, like he was brushing off the subject, but Jimin sensed the storm brewing, the tiny, barely noticeable quivers in the air surrounding them and braced himself.

"Jungkook? What do you think?" Jimin asked quietly, patiently, blankly gazing at Yoongi's handsome face drawn still, dangerously calm, serene even. Yoongi blinked once, tilting his head a little. He reached out lazily, unmoving besides his arm, brushing his knuckles over Jimin's cheek, the whisper of a touch trailing down his face before his cold fingers cupped his jaw, still light and painless. Jimin knew what was coming but despite that, easily suppressed the instinctive urge to flinch, leaning into Yoongi's hand, clinging to his touch like it intoxicated him.