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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 5 years

Text

BTS DRABBLE

@sheebaba: BTS approaches their ex (YOU!) and wants to get back together.

Tags: BTS, BTS Drabble, my asks, my requests, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyandan, Beyond the Scene, boyfriend AU, Jin x you, Yoongi x you, Hoseok x you, Namjoon x you, Jimin x you, Taehyung x you, Jungkook x you

Genre: Angst, Fluff, maybe some suggestive content?

Title: Second Chances

KIM SEOKJIN

Smiling down at the little handwritten note in your hand, your musings were interrupted by your coworker, Liesel, walking by your cubicle, sticking her head inside and curiously eyeing the bouquet of flowers on your desk, as she asked, “Secret Admirer strikes again?”

You nodded, tucking the note into your jacket pocket, as you flashed her a grin, turning back to your stack of paperwork that needed to be finished before you left for the day, “Yeah. I’ll give it to him, the guy’s got game.”

“I’ll say.” Liesel laughed, leaning against the door frame, her eyes straying from the large bouquet to the other trinkets and treats that littered one side of your desk. “He’s sent you something nearly every day for the past month.”

“He wants to meet up.” You spun around in your desk chair, hurrying on as Liesel’s brows inched up her forehead in surprise. “I mean, it can’t hurt right? It’s at a public place, and I don’t get the vibe that this guy is a creeper or anything.”

“You do you, doll.” Liesel shrugged, pushing herself up to continue on her way, giving you a little wave and smug smile over her shoulder as she left. “Let me know on Monday if you get any hot and kinky secret admirer sex over the weekend.”

The rest of the day crept by slowly, and you found your fingers straying to the pocket of your jacket, caressing the edges of the small note far more often than you would care to admit, a stupid smile always trying to lift the corners of your mouth as you remembered the words etched into the card.

‘Meet me tonight. Benny’s. 6;00.’

Finally, FINALLY, it was 5 PM and you could go home. Rushing out of work, barely waving to Liesel and your other coworkers on the way out, you headed home, determined not to be late and show up to greet this “secret admirer” in your very best outfit.

Changing into a black, skin tight evening dress, complete with pearls and heels, you fixed your hair and touched up your makeup, glancing over at the clock as you finished up, nervously grabbing your clutch before heading out the door to wave down a taxi.

The drive to Benny’s was uneventful, and you felt nerves start to grow in your stomach as you watched the night time city flash past outside your window, the butterflies growing more and more as you finally reached the restaurant, and the taxi driver let you out onto the sidewalk after a quickly uttered “thank you.”

Smoothing down the shawl you wore around your shoulders, hands running down the smooth black fabric of your dress one more time, you took in a deep breath, shivering from the cool air, and made toward the inviting, lit up entrance to the restaurant, only to be stopped in your tracks by a very familiar voice calling out your name from behind you.

“(Y/N)!”

Your heart thudded, just once, hard, against your ribs, and you swallowed quickly, trying to wet your suddenly dry mouth, as you turned slowly to face the man coming towards you, his long, dark hair mussed from running, his breath coming in pants, his tie slightly askew, a bouquet of ruffled flowers held in his hands.

“Seokjin. What are you doing here?” You managed to ask, as he came to a stop in front of you, reaching up to rake a hand through his ruined hair as he bent over slightly, trying to catch his breath.

“Sorry....I thought....” He panted out, holding the bouquet of flowers out to you, hands still on his knees. “You’d....be a little....late....like....old times.”

You took the flowers from him, albeit a bit reluctantly, and then asked, watching as he finally straightened up and offered you a wide smile, a smile that made your heart start to pound once again in your chest, “What are you talking about? I’m meeting someone.....”

He raised a dark brow at you, his smile thinning just a bit, full lips pursed, waiting, watching you with large eyes that reflected the city lights back to you. “I know.”

Suddenly, you realized. You knew why he was here.

You gasped, pointing with the bouquet of flowers at him almost accusingly, as you exclaimed, “Wait. The only way you would know I’d be here is if....” You gasped again, louder this time, shooting him a glare, hands going to your hips. “You’re my secret admirer!”

He held his hands out in an appeasing manner, smile once again crossing his full lips. “Guilty.”

“Jin......” You began, letting out a sigh, any anger draining from your body as you regarded the man in front of you.

You had broken up, weeks ago, and everything had been going fine, everything was good, until he showed up in front of you tonight, looking like a greek god in his slim fitting tuxedo, dark hair perfectly framing his face, pink, plush lips looking so inviting against tan skin and white teeth.

Shit. You still loved him.

“Look, (Y/N).” You jerked out of your thoughts, realizing Jin had started talking while you were zoned out, a pleading look coming across his normally confident features. “I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, I knew this was the only way to get you to meet me here tonight. Could you just hear me out? Please?” He held a hand out to you, his fingers stretched toward you, offering you to take his offer. “I screwed up.I realized, as soon as you left, what I had lost.”

Sighing, still anxious over the realization you had just had at seeming him again in over a month, suddenly realizing how pathetic you were, how cliche it was to still be in love with your ex, you said, defeat clear in your tone, “All right, Jin. I came all this way. Might as well have dinner right?”

You offered him a half smile, and he returned the gesture, and as your hand met his, you let him lead you into the warmth of the restaurant.

MIN YOONGI

“Okay, remember.” You knelt down in front of Toko, reaching up to unclip his leash as you shot him a stern glare. “No rough housing. Be nice to the smaller dogs. Play with dogs your own size. Okay?”

The large husky wagged his tail at your words, sitting obediently in front of you, waiting for you to give him the okay to head off into the large dog park and play with the dozens of other dogs that filled the area, barking and chasing and fetching.

Sighing, you patted his head and then straightened, wiping the dust off your knees as you motioned with your head, “Okay then. Go play.”

With a loud bark, Toko bounded to his feet and dashed across the dog park, disappearing out of sight, already lost in sniffing bushes and trees and other dog’s asses.

Sitting down on the bench along one side of the fenced area, you pulled your jacket closer around your shoulders as a brief breeze picked up, and pulling out your phone, you began to scroll aimlessly through social media, careful to avoid any and all mentions of him, as you scanned through Twitter.

Suddenly, the sound of a yap and a small dog leaping up on the bench beside you pulled you from your melancholy, and you turned your head, words already on your lips, as you asked cheerfully, “Oh, hey little guy....”

The statement died on your lips, as your gaze met the dark orbs of a small poodle, brown fur ruffled in the breeze, front paw raised in excitement, pink tongue lolling out past blackened lips, head cocked as he regarded you with familiarity.

“Shit.” You swore under your breath, ducking your head and glancing around out of the corners of your eyes as you addressed the little dog sitting beside you. “Holly, if you’re here, then so is.....”

“Hey.”

“Yoongi.” You gasped out, finishing your statement to the poodle, as your eyes, wide with sudden surprise, flashed up to the figure of the man standing in front of you, hoodie pulled up over his head, hands tucked in his pockets, posture slightly hunched, as he regarded you with dark eyes, made even darker by the shadow of his hood falling over his forehead.

A sardonic smile quirked the corner of his lips upward, as he said dryly, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” You scoffed out sarcastically, methodically avoiding his gaze, as you searched for a sign of Toko among the crowds of dogs. “Funny, I could say the same about you.”

You were surprised when Yoongi shuffled forward and sat beside you on the bench, hands still out of sight deep within his hoodie, as Holly crawled onto his lap, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You slid away from him ever so slightly, not liking the sudden feeling of goosebumps arising on your skin at his too close presence.

“So. Did you bring the mutt today?” Yoongi asked, his voice holding measured disinterest, as both of you looked out over the bustling dog park.

“Of course I did. Why would someone go to a dog park without their dog?” You shot back, wanting to laugh, but the sound getting stuck behind the sudden lump in your throat, as you risked a glance over at his features, pale in the dimming afternoon light.

“Does the mutt still like to play with the smaller dogs as if they were chew toys?” He asked, meeting your gaze, as he shifted on the bench beside you, closer to you.

A slight blush came over your cheeks as your gazes met, and you glanced away again, finally catching sight of Toko across the park, playing with another larger dog, for once, as you said, “Yes. We actually had a talk about that today, before we came. About playing with dogs his own size.”

“Figures.” Yoongi grunted out, shifting again, Holly curled up on his lap now, watching the other dogs with lazy brown eyes. “The only small dog Toko ever liked was Holly.”

“Yeah.” You nodded in agreement, before you could stop yourself, and then the two of you fell into silence again.

Uncomfortable silence.

“(Y/N)...” Yoongi started to say.

“Yoongi...” You blurted out, at the exact same time your name leaft his lips.

Both of you stuttered to a halt, and you looked down at your hands, the blush once again blooming across your cheeks, as you muttered out, fumbling with a loose string on the edge of your shirt, “You go first.”

He sighed, a heavy sound, from beside you, and you couldn’t help but glance over at him curiously, this man sitting beside you, the man who, up until two days ago, you had loved more than anyone else in the world.

“(Y/N). Listen.” He glanced over at you, dark eyes brimming with an emotion you hadn’t seen for awhile, as he bit his lip between his teeth, seeming to think as he paused for a moment before continuing, “I think we made a mistake.”

“You do?” You couldn’t stop yourself, the words poured from your lips as soon as his statement was in the open, hope suddenly springing up into your chest. “I mean.” You smoothed down your sweater, clearing your throat, as you asked more calmly, “you do?”

He flashed you a smile, a smile that is so familiar, it made your heart ache, pink gums stark against his white teeth, and then he nodded. “Yeah, I do.” It is his turn to clear his throat, and then he said, “You wanna get coffee after this? Talk through some things?”

“Yes, I would love that.” You responded, your own smile flashing across your face, just as Toko bounded back over to you, muddy paws going onto your chest as he licked your face, dog breath hot on your skin, as you cried out, “Toko! No! You’re getting me dirty! Get down!”

Yoongi watched you, amusement clear on his features, as you struggled with the large husky, and then he said teasingly, “I see that the mutt still doesn’t have any manners.”

You laughed, and he followed suit, Toko grinning, large tongue lolling between the two of you, and for the first time in two days, it all felt good.

JUNG HOSEOK

“No, no, no, no, no.” You whispered out underneath your breath, as you watched your dance instructor walk down the line of students, her hands behind her back.

Praying to yourself quietly, you kept your eyes on the wall of mirrors in front of you, hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, as you avoided her gaze. She was almost to you, and if she picked you, and you had to dance with him, then you would most certainly die, right there on the spot. You were sure of it.

“(Y/N).”

You glanced up at your teacher’s sharp voice forming your name, and saw her standing before you, watching you over her rimmed glasses as she pursed her lips and said, “You have been doing well lately with this particular footwork.” She flicked her hands toward the front of the class as she turned on her heel. “Join Hoseok up front for the demonstration.”

Shit.

Your hands were suddenly clammy, your throat dry, and your heart was trying to pound its way out of your chest, as you forced your feet to move over the wooden floor and toward the front of the class, where he stood, waiting, watching.

You didn’t want to be his partner, not today, and not ever. Not after what had happened between the two of you over Spring break.

But you also didn’t want to fail this class, and you didn’t want to disobey your dance instructor, because heaven knows, dance was the only good thing you had left in your life at this point.

Coming to a stop in front of him, you kept your head down, eyes on the floor, barely listening as your teacher began walking the rest of the class through what you were about to showcase, her voice dim above the sound of rushing, panicked blood pouring through your ears.

It was bad enough that you had ended up in the same advanced dance class with none other than your ex-boyfriend. But to have to partner with him for the day? That was going to be beyond unbearable.

“Now, you two.” Your instructor floated over to the pair of you, her eyes flashing behind her glasses as she waved her hands between you. “Take up position.”

You still didn’t meet his gaze, although you could feel it burning into you, as he took your left hand in his, palms together, your right hand going on the muscle just behind his shoulder blade, trying to stop yourself from noticing how firm he felt beneath your fingertips, how warm his skin was through the thin material of his shirt.

Damn it, (Y/N). Focus.

His hand cupped your waist, his long fingers digging slightly into your skin through the tank top, and briefly, just briefly, before you managed to shut the dangerous train of thought down, you remembered how those same fingers had felt tracing patterns across the bare skin of your thighs.

FOCUS.

“You know.” You shivered slightly, hoping he hadn’t noticed your reaction, as his timbre voice sounded, low, soft, in one of your ears, as your teacher started across the room to begin the music. “It’s going to be awfully hard to dance with you if you won’t even look at me, doll.”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped out, jerking your head up, and unwittingly meeting his eyes, those warm, caramel eyes, eyes that you could fall into, with your own, before a slight blush bloomed across your cheeks, and you stuttered out, “Besides. Dancing is all in the feet. Isn’t that what you told me once?”

Jung Hoseok chuckled, the sound sending another course of shivers down your spine, as the music began to blare over the speakers, his hand tightening slightly on your waist as he pulled you closer against him, bodies almost flush.

At this distance, you could practically feel the heat rolling off of him, smell his familiar musk overwhelming you with pleasant memories, memories of late nights and tangled sheets and his hands on every part of your body.

Shaking your head to rid yourselves of those thoughts, you huffed out, shooting him a glare, “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, and as your instructor called out the count, he led you into the first steps of the dance.

You had to admit, it felt nice to dance with Hoseok again. It had been awhile, and as he moved you around the room, effortlessly avoiding the other students, never missing a beat, you remembered. You remembered how much you liked to dance with him, how much you liked his body pressed against yours, how much you liked his fingers intertwined with your own.

“(Y/N).”

“Hmmm?” You hummed out before you could stop yourself, your gaze meeting his once again, as your feet obediently followed through their steps.

His brow was furrowed slightly as he looked down at you. so close that your noses could have brushed if you had tiptoed only slightly, so close that you could see the warmer flecks of honey in his caramel colored eyes. “I missed this.”

At his words, your feet stuttered to a halt, but luckily, the song had just ended and the class was applauding lightly, as your instructor approached, talking over the sound of the other students about your performance.

But you couldn’t hear her. All you could hear was Hoseok’s voice, his old voice, telling you over and over again how he had missed this, and possible, quite possibly, missed you.

You stood, staring at one another, and you opened your mouth, wanting to say something, needing to say something, but he beat you to it. Offering you a gentle smile, he bowed to you, and then said softly, so only you could hear, “Thank you for dancing with me, doll. Maybe, if you want, we could...” He hesitated, pushing dark hair back off his forehead, nerves suddenly visible in his eyes as he regarded you. “I mean, that is, would you like to dance with me again sometime? Not here of course.” He stuttered over his words, and you could see in his eyes, that he knew he was acting like a fool. “At a club or something. Outside of, you know... school.” He trailed off, avoiding your gaze, his own cheeks reddening this time.

You grinned, butterflies swarming in your stomach in response to his adorable anxiety, and then you nodded, all thoughts of panic from earlier completely gone, completely washed away by the feel of his hand in yours once again, his feet leading you through the familiar dance the two of you had always shared.

“I’d love to.”

KIM NAMJOON

Groaning, you shoved the last of the books into your bag and reached for your apartment key, slipping into your worn sneakers as your roommate glanced up from her phone where she was laying on the couch, offering you a sympathetic look as she asked, “You going to tutoring tonight, then?”

“Yes.” You dragged the word out, feeling your stomach sink with the syllables. “I’m going to fail this class if I don’t.”

“Good luck.” She clicked her tongue at you, blowing you a kiss as she turned back to your phone. “I hope for your sake that this ‘knj1994″ or whatever is good looking. I’ll pray for you.”

“Thanks.” You muttered under your breath, shooting once last longing glance back at the comfort of the couch as you left the apartment, slamming the door behind you and starting the long, dark, cold walk to the university library.

As you walked, your mind drifted back to how you had come to be here, walking quickly through the evening air, head ducked, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket, headed to the library on a Friday night rather than going to a party with your friends.

Damn statistics and its infuriatingly hard and frustrating problems.

Pushing through the doors into the library, you let out a sigh of relief as the warmth of the interior washed over you, shaking your numb hands at your sides to try and get feeling back into them as you entered the study area, set in a back, secluded corner of the first floor.

Ducking past the last aisle of books, you headed toward the table where you and the tutor had decided to meet earlier in the day, but stopped in your tracks when you saw that it was already occupied, the tall frame of a man crammed into one of the chairs, and the sight of a very familiar head of purple hair bent over some homework.

“Namjoon?” You stuttered out before you could stop yourself, fingers clenching tightly to your backpack straps, as the man looked up from his reading at the sound of his name, glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose, glinting in the dim overhead lighting.

“(Y/N)?” He asked in response, eyes going wide with disbelief, as he scrambled to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m meeting my statistics tutor.” You replied, watching him carefully, as he leaned down to right his chair once more.

“Weird coincidence. I’m supposed to meet someone here to tutor them in statistics.” Namjoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, slight red beginning to appear at the end of his ears.

And then, you both realized, in one electrifying moment, what the other had said.

“It’s YOU?!” You both blurted out, mouths falling open, as you realized the extent of your current predicament.

“How did you not know it was me?” Namjoon stuttered out, hands going palm down on the table in front of him, eyes wide with sudden panic.

“How was I supposed to know? You sign up online!” I snapped back, hands suddenly clammy against the straps of my bag.

“And you couldn’t figure it out from my username?” Namjoon exclaimed loudly, before lowering his voice, realizing you were still in the library. “Knj1994? Wasn’t that obvious enough?” He hissed out between his teeth.

“I don’t know!” You hissed back, slamming your bag down on the table and standing across from him, mirroring his stance as you leaned toward him. “What do we do?” You asked, after a brief moment, sudden annoyance gone from your voice, a whine taking its place.

“I guess we just study anyway?” He said, his own voice deflated, as he sat slowly back down in his chair, picking up a pencil and beginning to whirl it between his fingers, a nervous habit he had had ever since you had known him.

“I guess we have no choice.” You said in defeat, taking the seat across from him, and reaching into your bag to get out your books. “I really am sorry. I didn’t know it was you or I never would have...”

“I know.” He waved a hand at you tiredly, offering you a grim smile as he reached for his own notebook. “Don’t apologize.”

You nodded, suddenly very interested in the math problems laid out on the table before you.

About an hour managed to drift by, as you asked Namjoon questions about different aspects of your homework, and he worked you through each problem individually, and the more time that passed, the more comfortable you grew in each other’s company again, just like old times, before you know, the break up.

Glancing up from one of your problems, you caught Namjoon watching you from behind his spectacles, and you raised a brow at him, as you asked, “What?”

Ears reddening again, he quickly dropped his gaze from yours, tapping his pencil on the table, as he said quietly, “Nothing. You just look really pretty tonight, that’s all.”

You blushed this time, at his words, and clearing your throat, you tried to make light of the situation as you teased, “I’m glad you noticed, because I put on my best sweats for this occasion.”

He chuckled, the sound slightly humorless, and you noticed he was twirling his pencil again, as he looked up at you once more, and blurted out, seemingly before he could stop himself, “Look. I’m really sorry for how things went down with...you know...” He hesitated, briefly, and when you didn’t stop him, he continued, the pencil growing frantic in his fingers. “But if you want, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like for us to keep studying together.”

“Okay.” You said, surprising him, and even yourself with the casually uttered phrase.

“Okay?” He repeated, disbelief lacing his tone.

“Yeah, I mean.” You shrugged slightly, your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest, as you nonchalantly smiled at him, before turning back to your work. “I don’t want to fail statistics, so you’re my only hope.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and saw him hide a slight smile on his lips, ducking his head back to his own work, the pencil no longer gyrating in his hands.

Little did he know, at that same moment, you were hiding the exact same thing.

PARK JIMIN

“Holy shit, my head.” Was the first statement that left your lips that morning, as you peeked through barely cracked eyelids at the offending sun coming in through the half open blinds.

You groaned, moving to reach up to cover your eyes with your hand, but there was some unknown heavy weight restricting your arms to your sides, and you groaned again, screwing your eyes shut as you struggled to free yourself from whatever had you trapped.

You didn’t exactly remember what had happened last night at the party, but with the way you were feeling in this moment, it was probably safe to say that you had gone a little heavy with the alcohol.

“Could you please stop moving so much? I swear to God, my head feels like it’s going to fall off, and you’re not helping.”

You froze, eyes flickering wide at the masculine voice coming from beside you, and suddenly, your aching head wasn’t at the forefront of your problems anymore, as you realized, with a sudden sinking of your stomach, who the voice belonged to.

“Oh shit, please no.” You breathed out, the second statement to leave your lips that morning.

Turning your head, careful not to jostle the angry hangover any more than was necessary, hoping against all hope that maybe you were wrong, that maybe the voice belonged to some random guy you had picked up at the party, someone you would never see again, you allowed your gaze to fall on the person beside you in the bed, face buried deep in their pillow, one arm flung over your abdomen, bare skin of their back glowing caramel in the morning light.

And you knew, instantly, that this was no random party goer, this man stirring beside you, naked body lying in your bed, wrapped in your sheets, arm sitting comfortably over your waist.

“Park Jimin.” You let the name fall from your lips, suddenly feeling nauseous as you realized what you had done, and although the details were fuzzy in your head, you remembered.

You remembered the night before.

His hands on your waist, your judgement clouded with alcohol and the warm feeling that his touch always brought to your chest, his plush lips moving against your own, stumbled steps up the stairs, tangled, flushed bodies, bare skin sweaty, entwined with one another, as your name, your damn name, fell from his lips in a way that made everything in side of you want to never let him go again.

And here you were, in your bed, with the hangover from hell, lying next to your ex boyfriend, wondering over and over, what shit you had done in your past life to curse you so thoroughly in this one.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve been run over by a truck.” Jimin groaned, bringing you abruptly out of your harried thoughts, as he shifted beside you, face coming out from the confines of his pillow, his eyes puffy and squinted against the light, silver hair falling in tangles over his forehead. His tongue darted out to lick dry, swollen lips, and you stopped yourself from remembering how that same tongue traced over your skin the night before, as he blinked owlishly at you and then said hoarsely, “What did they put in those drinks last night?”

Clutching the sheets to your chest, panic rising into your throat, only egged on by how nonchalant he’s being in this compromising situation, you sat up, moaning and placing a palm on your head for a moment as it jostled with the sudden movement, and then whispered to him, “JImin. You can’t be here. Whatever happened last night...”

“You don’t remember?” He pushed himself up on one elbow, still squinting slightly, but eyes open enough now to give you a suggestive wink, as he said, his voice dropping lower, “I can remind you, if you want, baby.”

“Shut up, just shut up!” You exclaimed, louder than intended, and both of you wince at the sudden noise. Dropping your voice, you shot him a glare through your fingers, still cradling your head, before saying, “I remember THAT, okay? But I shouldn’t have to, because none of this should have even happened in the first place! Holy shit.” You flopped back down onto the bed, ignoring the pounding in your head, as you covered your face with your hands, feeling regret course through you. “I’ve become one of those girls who sleeps with her ex boyfriend when she’s drunk. I am officially a whore.”

“Hey.” You heard Jimin say, amusement clear in his lilting tone, before you felt his hands push yours away from your face, your eyes still shut, as he pulled you from your wallowing. “You’re not a whore. And besides....” He flicked your cheek with one of his fingers, earning an angry hiss from between your teeth, as he insisted, “Baby, will you look at me?”

“I’m not your baby anymore, Park Jimin.” You retorted, but do as he said, as you met his gaze, suddenly serious as he watched you, sending nervous butterflies drumming in your stomach.

“Look, (Y/N).” Jimin sighed, flopping back down onto the bed beside you. “I don’t know about you, but last night was awesome, and not just because it was drunk, party sex.” He glanced over at you, you eyes meeting his own, another wave of pleasant butterflies swarming in your stomach at his serious expression. “It was awesome because I missed this, doing this, with you.” He motioned in between the space between your naked bodies, hidden by sheets. “Last night was not a drunken slip up for me. I fully knew what I was doing. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Shit.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut once again, rubbing your knuckles against your face, as the warmth continued to fill your belly at his honest words.

“Shit like, you don’t agree with me? Or shit like...” Jimin loomed over you, his face blocking the sun, as you squinted up at him through your lashes. A slight smirk wavered at the corners of his full lips. “You didn’t slip up either?”

You groaned. “I didn’t slip up either. I wanted to blame it on the drinks, but...” You met his gaze, suddenly dark as it scanned your face intently. “I can’t stay away from you, Park Jimin.”

A grin crossed his face at your words, and he looked slightly smug, as he said, one brow raised, “Now can I remind you of what happened last night, baby? In FULL detail this time?” His hand came up to skim suggestively across the bare skin of your waist beneath the sheets.

“Shit.” You said, once again, before your hands went around his neck, fingers tangling into the strands of his hair, and you were pulling him down to fit his lips with your own.

KIM TAEHYUNG

Sipping at your drink, you sighed and rolled your neck on your shoulders, your feet aching in your heels beneath the counter of the bar.

It had been a long day at work, and after the large presentation you had had to present to the investors, you needed to relieve some stress.

You ended up here, at your favorite bar, sitting alone, nursing a martini, and damn, did it feel good.

“Hey gorgeous, what you drinking tonight?” A rough voice interrupted your solitude, just barely heard over the beat of the loud dance music that was flooding over from the dance floor.

You rolled your eyes, before glancing over to see a man sliding onto the stool beside you, tie loosened, eyes alight with interest, as he waved down the bartender, barely looking at the man, who handed him a glass of whiskey, as you held up your own glass to him, and said flatly, “Martini. Extra dry.”

“Get her another one, on me.” the man waved again at the bartender, before turning his attention back to you. He leaned in, and you could smell his cheap cologne, as he rested a hand beside your arm, as he said, “Name’s Theo.”

“Hmmm.” You hummed in response, tipping your glass to him before taking another swig of the bitter liquid.

“You got a name, beautiful?” The man asked, taking a drink of his whiskey, eyes never leaving you, as he tipped the amber liquid down his throat.

“I do indeed.” You took the new martini from the bar tender and took another gulp, the alcohol burning your throat as he you regarded him with slight annoyance. “Although I usually don’t give it out to men I’ve just met.”

The man laughed, a loud, obnoxious sound, and signaled for more whiskey, angling his body toward you as he said smoothly, “Come on, honey, don’t be like that. Pretty little thing like you should have some company.”

You scoffed, taking another sip of your drink to cover up the derisive sound at his words. He was not taking the hint, and you were tired. You just wanted to drink in peace, was that too much to ask?

“I could give you some company.” The man winked at you, his hand heavily landing on your knee, fingers tracing your skin suggestively through the thin material of your nylons beneath your skirt.

“Please take your hand off of me.” You said through gritted teeth, your drink forgotten in the face of his brazen move.

“Oh, come on now....” He began to protest, his fingers still on your exposed knee, inching upward beneath the fabric of your skirt.

“I believe she asked you remove your hand.”

You startled slightly, as the deep, commanding voice sounded beside you over the music, and glancing up, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of his face in the swirling lights, stern and hard as he regarded the man across from you, eyes cold.

“And just who the hell are you?” The man asked angrily, although he removed his hand, finally, from your skin.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Taehyung stated simply, his hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “So it’s be best for everyone if you left now.”

Grumbling something under his breath, and shooting one more glance at the formidable man beside you, the man slunk off into the rowd, drink in hand.

Letting out a sigh, and feeling slightly sad as Taehyung removed his hand from your shoulder for some unknown reason, you said quietly, as he took the now empty seat across from you, “Thank you for that. You’re a godsend.”

He chuckled, motioning to the bartender for a drink, as he glanced over at you in the dim lights, his eyes dark with shadow, blonde hair slicked back from his forehead, just in the way you always remembered. “Yeah, well, some guys are assholes.”

“you’re not.” you couldn’t help pointing out, as you blushed at your own brazen statement and took a long sip of your drink, the liquid coating your throat.

“I can be.” Taehyung stopped lifting his cup to his mouth, regarding you with eyes filled with regret, his lips pressed into a thin line, something hidden behind his expression that you couldn’t quite place.

You knew what he was referring to, but you didn’t touch on the break up, as you quietly sipped your drinks.

Finishing your second martini, you dropped some cash onto the bar and stood, gathering your things as you said awkwardly, “Anyway, thanks again, Tae. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He waved a hand at you, that same hint of something you couldn’t place darkening his eyes, before he said, “Get home safe.”

You felt defeated. You had hoped he would say something else, although you knew it was futile. So instead of saying anything more, you murmured, “Thanks, I will, “ under your breath before pushing your way toward the exit of the club, disappointment heavy in your chest, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Exiting into the cool night air, you looked for a taxi, just as you heard the door bang open behind you, and Taehyung’s voice call out, almost in a panic, “(Y/N)! Wait!”

Spinning on your heel in surprise, you came face to face with him, as he almost plowed into you, his hands gripping your arms to steady you, as he said breathlessly, “Wait. Don’t go.”

“Tae...” You started to say, the crushing feeling of defeat still heavy in your chest as you studied him-the same flawless face you remembered, the same curly hair falling over his brow, the same serious expression in his dark eyes.

You didn’t want to hear what he had to say. He wasn’t going to “un” break up with you and your pining was only hurting.

But before you could say anything else, his fingers tightened around your upper arms and his mouth was on your own, and all thoughts were gone from your head, as his lips melded with yours, and his tongue slipped between the part you had created, causing you to sigh softly against him, feeling him tense slightly beneath you in reaction, as he deepened the kiss.

And all too soon, it was over, and he was pulling back from you, and both of your were gasping for breath, and he was offering you that same old boxy grin, as he said cheekily, his fingers stroking down your cheekbone, “I meant what I said to that asshole in there. I’m your boyfriend. That is, if that’s what you want again.”

You smiled and pulled his head down to yours once more, connecting your lips, and instead of answering with words, you showed him exactly how you felt about his proposition.

JEON JUNGKOOK

You stood beside the punch bowl at the reception, pouring yourself another glass, hoping against hope that this stuff was spiked with something a little stronger than just Kool Aid, when he approached you.

You almost spilled the glass of red liquid in your hand, as the voice, his voice, deep and smooth, like dark chocolate, washed over you.

“Hey,(Y/N). It’s been a long time.”

Turning around, careful not to spill on yourself, eyes wide, you made sure it was him, really him, before you placed a careful look of casual interest on your face, even though your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat, as you offered him a polite smile and said, “Jeon Jungkook. Imagine running into you here.”

“Well, it is a small town.” He offered, reaching for the punch ladle, as he flashed you a grin, not helping your already stuttering heart. “Bride or groom?”

You shake your head, physically trying to gather your thoughts, as he walks with you to a nearby table. “Groom.” You say, sitting down beside him, fingers curled nervously around your plastic cup.

Damn it all.

Jeon Jungkook had been good looking in high school, and you didn’t think he could do any better, but tonight, five years later, at your cousin’s wedding, dressed in a suit that fit his body perfectly, his dark hair slicked back off his forehead, he looked tasty enough to eat.

And you couldn’t deny that the desire to taste him was creeping up in you like a wave against your previously fortified walls.

“What?” You stuttered out suddenly, realizing he had asked you a question that you hadn’t hear, looking at you expectantly as he waited for an answer.

“I asked how long you’ll be in town.” He offered you a smile, his bunny smile, that used to send your heart racing, just as it was doing now.

“oh, uh.” You gulped down some of your punch, really wishing you had some vodka to add to it, as you wiped your mouth and then said, “I’m just here until Monday. I Have to get back to work.”

“Yeah, me too.” He said, shaking his head slightly, as he sipped at his punch.

Drumming your fingers on the table, you tried to sneak covert glances at him from the corner of your eye, watching as he drank the rest of his punch, his jawline, shit, his jawline, sharp enough to cut glass as it bunched beneath his skin.

He glanced at you, and you looked away, as he set his now empty cup down, before you heard him clear his throat. “Hey, (Y/N). Can I ask you something?”

You wanted to say no, to leave, before he could ask you whatever it is he wanted to. You had seen enough bad romantic comedies to know that the heroine always got herself in trouble when she agreed to answer a question.

But you couldn’t help yourself. He was too cute, suddenly seeming nervous, as he trilled his fingers on the knees of his suit pants.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You said, biting down the common sense that was trying to claw its way up your throat.

“Were you.....” He hesitated, no loner meeting your gaze, before he urged himself onward. “Were you okay after i broke up with you?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “I mean...” Now it was your turn to hesitate. “It was a high school relationship, Jungkook. I knew it wouldn’t last forever.”

“yeah.” He agreed, sitting back in his chair, eyes finally meeting yours. “But I know you had a shitty time.”

“How do you know that?” You asked, trying to keep the bite from your tone, as you remembered all the times you had cried over the exact boy that was now sitting in front of you.

“Because I had a shitty time.” He said simply, fingers ceasing their movements on his knees as he watched you, eyes unreadable.

“what?” is all you managed to say, in shock at his sudden confession, as he leaned toward you, one hand going hesitantly over yours on the top of the table.

You glanced down at your intertwined fingers, so much older now than they had been the last time you held hands, as he said carefully, “Look, I broke up with you because I was stupid, I was young, I got scared.” He shrugged slightly as you met his gaze again, eyes burning with sincerity as they regarded you. “I knew you were the real deal, but as a high school senior, I didn’t want to face that huge revelation.”

“Jungkook...” You breathed out between parted lips, unwittingly tightening your grip on his hand.

“Look, (Y/N).” He plowed on, letting out a heavy sigh as his free hand went up to rake through his neat hair. “I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me, but I’d really like to try this, try us,” He motioned between the two of you, “Again, if you’re willing to give me another chance. I’ve grown up a lot.” He offered you a rueful smile across the table.

You were speechless for a moment, staring at him, at the boy you had loved in high school, the boy you had loved ever since, and then you grinned at him, the old feelings comfortably settling back to place in your chest, as if they had never left.

“Jeon Jungkook. Let’s get out of here.”

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