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Seokjin sits in the stylist’s chair with so many questions on his mind his head might explode. Perhaps this is some sort of cosmic joke. Perhaps this is the way life has chosen to shove all the inappropriate segues he’s allowed himself lately right back in his face.
In any case possible… this can’t be happening.
In fact, Seokjin’s pretty sure he’s imagining things, going insane maybe.
The mirror in front of him confirms a flush creeping its way even under the fresh layer of concealer he has on. Fortunately enough, most of the staff is too busy shuffling around, preparing for the upcoming shoot, or they might’ve noticed his ears turning the brightest shade of red it can go.
To say that it all started with the ping of a notification.
And Seokjin—his past, unprepared self—felt the thrill of excitement he always feels when Big Hit Jeon Jungkook sends him a message request.
Granted, Jungkook very rarely messages his hyungs, and when he does, it’s to ask for food or—in Seokjin’s case—if he’s bored out of his mind and needs a distraction, a playful banter over text, anything (and Seokjin is always happy to give Jungkook whatever he wants, of course).
So, a text from Jungkook.
First anomaly, maybe, but unfortunately not all there is to the story.
In the massive styling mirror, Seokjin’s silent “what the fuck” expression is verging on comical. His mouth hangs half-open on a gasp, heart pounding loudly in his ears as he clutches his phone to his chest to keep the screen from potential prying eyes.
Again, this can’t be happening.
Seokjin has to double-check, make sure he really saw what he saw. He has to.
On the premise he’s going insane, that is. Obviously.
But first, a quick look around to ensure there are no lurking cameras, no one paying attention to him. Yoongi shuffles into a more comfortable position on the chair next to him just to disappear behind his own phone. The other members are all huddled on a couch on the other side of the room, busy with their own thing.
Once he's certain the coast is clear, Seokjin keeps his phone close to his chest and angles it up just enough to achieve an awkward downward peek.
A hot flash overtakes his entire face again.
Nope. Not his imagination.
Jungkook has definitely sent him some explicit fanart.
A black and white sketch of the two of them getting real intimate, to be more precise. Dicks out and everything.
The sight of it is still as shocking the second time around, heart-stopping like one of those exaggerated cinematic jumpscares, knee-jerking Seokjin into desperately clutching the phone back to his chest. The strangled little cry he lets out gets him a disinterested side-eye from Yoongi.
What the actual fuck? Wow.
It’s a very nice drawing, all things considered. Very accurate. Very accurately himself and Jungkook. Rendered beautifully. The problem certainly does not lie in the quality of the piece. No, no. It’s just that, well, this is not a thing that they do.
Of course, Seokjin has stumbled upon amazing works of art portraying all of the members before. Stunning fanart in some cases. Explicit or not. He’s so not here to judge people’s art. No. The utter confusion here stems from the fact that it’s Jungkook sending it to him, sharing this with Seokjin so shamelessly.
A third peek. Quick. Just to tease himself at this point.
It really is a nice drawing, though. Very on par with many little fantasies Seokjin's entertained recently. Shamefully so, he might even say.
It's always a little daunting to come upon such an accurate rendering of his own features. And this sketch, in particular, is very flattering. In fact, Seokjin doubts he’s ever looked this good in the throes of passion. He's drawn leaning on some nondescript surface, head thrown back, expression stretched into something obscene. The lines of his body pulled tight in a graphic show of carnal pleasure. Very clearly enjoying himself as Jungkook holds him against the wall, his face hidden away in the crook of Seokjin's neck. One of Jungkook’s hands struggles to accommodate both of their massive hard dicks as he jerks them off together.
Very sensual. Very Seokjin’s groove.
There may be some cartoonish exaggerations here and there. Like, Seokjin's dick is certainly not that big. Nor is Jungkook's, for that matter. Not that he can claim having ever seen Jungkook's erection—
“Don’t go there,” he tells himself under his breath, a pained frown reflected back at him.
Seokjin’s always had a soft spot for the maknae, always considered him to be his best friend—age gap be damned. They complete each other so well. They have so much fun together. Jungkook is easy to talk to. He’s sweet and non-judgmental and safe. Seokjin's always liked Jungkook very much.
Lately, though—Since Jungkook's taken to literally strip on stage. Since he’s made it clear he’s not a child anymore—Seokjin can’t deny (as much as he wants to hide from it) that his feelings have changed; overbearing fondness evolving into something a little more unavoidable.
Being honest with himself, Seokjin would say he's a little jealous of the Seokjin in the sketch. Being honest, Seokjin would say he's a lot jealous. Only now stricken by the mortifying reality of all the blood in his body rushing south the more he thinks about it.
“Neutral thoughts, neutral thoughts, neutral thoughts," he chants to himself, eyes glued to the ceiling for the time it takes him to take a deep breath. In and out.
Oh, but he so wants this. Everything in the drawing and then more.
It’s hard, dealing with the part of himself that is definitely turned on. A little ashamed of being turned on and definitely a little turned on of being ashamed.
Why is this happening to him?
Is Jungkook playing some game?
Pondering the possibility of this whole thing being an awful prank is just too painful.
It'd be even worse if Jungkook was aware of Seokjin's feelings, but the eventuality of that being the case is absurd. Jungkook doesn't know about his crush. Even if it's somewhat of a massive crush. Even if it's twisting Seokjin's insides into a frenzy everytime Jungkook is in the vicinity. Seokjin works so hard to keep it hush-hush. He's good at that, keeping these things to himself. Not a chance Jungkook knows about it. No way.
The only suitable explanation is that Jungkook shared the drawing by accident. The thought is further reinforced by the fact that Jungkook seems utterly unaware of Seokjin's internal crisis. If it was a prank, then he surely would’ve been waiting to catch Seokjin’s reaction with that adorably crooked, mischievous little smile of his. But no.
Jungkook’s chilling on the couch between Jimin and Taehyung, overlooking a game Taehyung plays on his phone, caught in his own thing.
So, an accident. Let's say a pocket-send. Those things happen. And it's a chance, too, that he hasn't sent it to the group chat or worse, to Seokjin's mother or something (silver linings and whatnot). But, even if it was a mistake, wouldn't that also mean Jungkook has explicit fanart saved somewhere on his phone?
How did Jungkook find it? Did he look for it? Did someone send it to him? Did he just happen to stumble on it and think it was funny or something?
Maybe he simply thought it was beautiful? Maybe he saved it because of art appreciation? That must be it. Jungkook knows how to appreciate art. He's an artist himself, after all.
Why else would he have a representation of them having a real good time getting intimately acquainted with each other's dicks at the ready on his phone?
And what if he meant to send it? What if, then?
Seokjin thinks he deserves answers to his many, many questions. He has an urgent need to straighten up the mess of theories painfully piling up like overwhelming clutter on his mind before it becomes too much and he blurts out something truly embarrassing.
And it's really not the time to engage because a manager is calling for them to get ready for the shoot, but what the hell? Seokjin's on the verge of a slight nervous breakdown, and he needs for Jungkook to make sense of things.
There’s only one way of doing this: the way Seokjin does best. Meaning in grand, gratuitous fashion. Extremely loudly or not at all.
He rolls the styling chair around to face the main source of his embarrassment. “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! What is this?”
Jungkook jumps at Seokjin's angry tone, the cutest deer-in-the-headlights look there ever was. "Hyung, what?"
“You know what. Why did you send me this?“
Jungkook blinks in confusion, eyes trailing from Seokjin’s face to the phone still clutched to his chest. “Oh, you don’t like it?”
“That’s not—what?“
What? What the fuck is happening?
Jungkook squirms a little in his seat, a frown of genuine perplexity appearing on his face. “But I really thought you would.”
Does this mean Jungkook has truly sent him the fanart on purpose? What? This is all too confusing. Confusing and inappropriate. Oh, this is so inappropriate. “Me liking it or not has nothing to do with anything,” he says, treading carefully, very much aware of all the eyes on them now and the consequences of going into details.
“Looked like something you’d want.”
“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin warns. “Why, on Earth, would you think that?"
Something’s not right. They can’t be talking about the same thing. They just can’t.
Jungkook is full-on pouting now. “Why are you angry at me?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You sound angry.”
“Are you two okay?” Jimin butts in, concern in his voice. “Did something happen?”
“We’re fine.” Seokjin feels himself close up like a clam. He can’t deal with this in the middle of the crowded waiting room, after all. This was a terrible idea.
“O-kay,” Jimin says, hesitation making it clear he’s not convinced one bit.
Jungkook is staring at his hands, looking a little sad and embarrassed, and it makes Seokjin’s heart bleed a little.
It’s too late to try and mend the damage, though. They have to go to work now, and Seokjin silently curses his trademark impulsivity for calling Jungkook out in front of everyone like this. Again: terrible, terrible idea.
Obviously, the altercation didn’t give him much in terms of answers. If anything, Seokjin has even more questions now.
He’s still unclear on Jungkook’s intentions, for one.
They normally enjoy teasing each other a lot, but this whole thing seems out of brand even for them. And what if someone else saw? What if one of the stylist-noonas had been close by, huh? Seokjin for sure could’ve used some content warning.
Call it a hunch, but Seokjin's pretty sure he’s missing a key piece of information here. He should probably just brush it off as a misunderstanding and move on.
But he can’t.
Because now that he’s seen the drawing, he can’t just unsee.
He's overreacting, he knows. He does that sometimes. It's stupid, really, to be this shaken up by so little; it's just that… He can't get it out of his head. He has this image printed to the back of his eyelids, and it makes it hard to look Jungkook in the eye now, unfortunately.
And what if this incident fucks up their relationship? Seokjin could never survive having their friendship ruined by something so insignificant.
Seokjin tries not to think about it too much, but the thought coils through him, pulling him slowly down the gutter of his own mind. And he tries to distract himself with work at best he can for the entire shoot. He really tries.
It becomes rapidly noticeable for all the members that their favourite chaotic duo is not its usual troublemaker-self; Seokjin can see it in all of their concerned looks, all of their efforts to make things light and fun for everyone when it's so often Seokjin's role. He's just… preoccupied. Again, it happens.
Once the shoot is over and they’re all back in the waiting room to gather their things before heading home, Namjoon makes it clear he’s not letting them drag this out any longer. He stops Seokjin on his way out.
"Am I grounded?" Seokjin jokes out of nervousness because he knows what's coming.
"Hyung, you definitely need to have a talk with Jungkookie," Namjoon tells him earnestly. "Take a minute. If you need all of us to discuss it together later, whatever this is, we can all come back once you're done—"
“No.” They are not about to have a group discussion over an explicit drawing incident. No, thank you. "That won't be necessary. Thanks, Namjoon-ah. We can sort this out just the two of us."
"Okay." He nods. "We'll wait for you two downstairs, then." He gives Jungkook a little encouraging pat on the shoulder on his way to the door. "Fighting," he adds softly before leaving them alone in the waiting room.
Silence.
“We’re definitely grounded,” Seokjin jokes again, but neither of them laughs.
Jungkook looks good like this—as he so expertly does since he's all grown up. Hair swept back and light makeup; remnants of today's shoot. Now that he's out of the designer clothes and back into a simple black hoodie, he looks comfy. That's how Seokjin prefers him; charmingly cozy. A rainy day curled up on the couch.
But then there's also the full-sleeve of tattoos and piercings and oh. Seokjin might be a little weak for how his bad-boy looks clash with all the cuteness going on.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook says, although Seokjin suspects he doesn't know what he's apologizing for.
"What did you mean to send me?" Better be cutting to the chase this time.
Jungkook looks utterly confused. "I-I, um, what? "
"I have the feeling we were not talking about the same thing earlier," Seokjin explains softly. "What was it that you wanted to show me?"
“The sweater. With the whale on it? I really thought you’d like it. That’s why I sent you the screenshot. I-I, maybe… I dunno. I wanted to get it for you as a, uh, a gift—Whatever. Forget about it.”
“A sweater?” Seokjin repeats, unable to avoid a teasing smile. This makes so much more sense. “You better not check our convo, then.”
With a look of utter confusion (and quite a cute one at that), Jungkook fumbles his phone out of his pocket. "What? Why would I—Oh.” He freezes, phone in hand, his face turning beacon red in a heartbeat.
It’s unbearable to watch, so Seokjin waves it off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh my god,” Jungkook breathes out softly. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.”
“So…” Seokjin clears his throat. “You want to buy me a sweater, huh?”
“—I’m so sorry, hyung. I never meant to share this with anyone. No one else has seen it, I swear. I probably should never have drawn it in the first place to be honest, but—”
“Wait.”
Jungkook flinches, slightly curling in on himself. “I’m sorry.”
“You drew this?”
There’s no mirror in front of him now, but Seokjin knows exactly the face he’s making. He’s seen countless footage of his slacked-jaw, comically baffled mug of his.
Jungkook’s eyes go impossibly wide. “Shit. Forget about it.”
“I am not forgetting about anything. I can’t. This image will be stuck in my brain forever, Jungkook-ah.”
“It’s not a big deal, hyung. Don’t make it a big deal. Please.”
“You drew us having sex, Jungkook-ah.”
“Shhh, I know,” he says, and he’s running out of patience, Seokjin can tell.
“Why?” Seokjin feels like he’s going insane for real this time. He feels on edge. He feels naked. He feels— “Jungkook-ah. You drew my erect penis—No, wait. You drew your own erect penis.”
“What about it?”
“Barely half of your face, but your entire erection.”
“You sure took a good look at it, hyung.”
“Why? Tell me why you drew us like this.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Just tell me, Jungkook-ah.”
“You know why.” He’s shuffling from one foot to the other, playing with the straps of his backpack; clear signs of discomfort.
“I need to hear it. Please, Jungkookie.”
A silence, then a resigned sigh. “Because I’m in love with you, hyung.”
A breath catches in Seokjin’s throat. He was expecting something along the lines of a “I’m attracted to you” or “I have a crush on you” but this is—
“You’re in love with me,” Seokjin says. This day can not get any more intense, he thinks.
“Hyung, don’t tease.”
“I’m not.”
“I know I’ve embarrassed you. I promise I haven’t shown anybody except like, uh, well you, but it was an accident.”
“You’re in love with me,” Seokjin repeats, taking a careful step forward. “So you drew my dick?”
Annoyance flashes on Jungkook’s face. “Would you stop with that?”
Seokjin takes another bold step forward, bringing him nearly face-face with Jungkook this time. “I like it, by the way,” he says. “Your drawing.”
“You do?” Full-frontal vulnerability, and so much hope in those big, beautiful eyes, anyone could get drunk on it.
Seokjin’s eyes follow the way Jungkook bites his bottom lip nervously, and the request comes out as a soft whisper. “Let me kiss you.”
“Yes. Okay.”
It’s maybe the most tender moment of Seokjin’s life. Nothing close to his deliciously dirty fantasies—those can wait. He presses his lips against Jungkook’s carefully, takes his time to explore, to taste. He feels his heart thrum through his whole body, a soft melody whispered through his veins. And it may be a shy kiss at first, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Jungkook opens his mouth a little more, nips at Seokjin’s bottom lip impatiently. A familiar push-and-pull.
Here again, even while kissing they just complete each other so well.
“I think I’m in love with you too,” Seokjin says when they break the kiss, and Jungkook replies with a giggle and a satisfied little hum before pulling him in for another kiss.
“Do you have more of those drawings?” Seokjin asks, suddenly curious.
Jungkook gives him a challenging side-eye. “Take me out for drinks, and I’ll give you your answer.”
“Brat.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
Then, something comes to Seokjin’s mind. "Okay, just a heads up so you're not disappointed later on,” he says. “But my dick is not that big. You’ve watched too much porn I’m afraid.”
Jungkook blinks a few times, then exhales sharply through his nose and pats Seokjin’s chest lightly before turning for the door. “I may not know about your dick size, but I sure do about mine.”
Seokjin’s brain short-circuits with the innuendo, and he stammers, “W-wait. Do you mean—?”
“Again, hyung,” Jungkook says, hand on the doorknob and an infuriating smile on his face. “Take me out, and you might get your answer.”