Yoongi catches just a glimpse of it before Jungkook settles back into that fucking wise ass posture, acting like the threat and now empty water bottle didn't do anything to shake him. It's not really the point, anyway. He's still pushing Yoongi, practically egging him on in the quiet way he relaxes, as though he has nothing to fear. In that moment, Jungkook reminds him of himself. Silky black hair feathers across the boy's skin as he tips his head back against the wall, snapping that hooded gaze straight up to Yoongi's own level pair. It's a heavy look, weighing Yoongi's stomach down with something he'd rather not give a name too. It also feels like something of a challenge, the kid's dark eyes lit up and fixated on him, already grinning before it even reaches his lips.
It's just a bluff--bratty, spontaneous, ridiculous--except that Yoongi isn't actually sure. He just stares at Jungkook, feeling the muscles in his neck tighten and the weight in his stomach sink a little lower at even the suggestion. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it once or twice, especially during their more heated exchanges. Pretty boy with a tight body like Jungkook, they always look good on their knees. Perfect eyes for it, too. Maybe the looks Yoongi's raked over him in the practice room and smoke-filled bars haven't been entirely subtle. Maybe the kid's bating him, teasing at the corner of something that'll never really reveal itself. Maybe he means it.
Yoongi kind of wants to find out.
"Hoseok, keep practice going. I need a word with Jungkook outside." The words leave no room for argument, and he doesn't get one. Three seconds flat and the heavy bass of his track is filling the room just as he's leaving it, knowing without needing to look over his shoulder that the kid is following him. He silently leads the way, the only gesture at all being the long fingers that tighten the slack bandana in his hair. It's the same thing he does before working the stage on weekends. He doesn't stop until he reaches the men's bathroom at the end of the hallway. It's grimy, disgusting, and probably has never seen better days, period--it also has a single stall that Yoongi crams them both into. Easing himself back against the frame, Yoongi clicks the lock into place, lazily sizing up the younger boy without a word. And then, tossing the challenge right back: "Alright."
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It's just a bluff--bratty, spontaneous, ridiculous--except that Yoongi isn't actually sure. He just stares at Jungkook, feeling the muscles in his neck tighten and the weight in his stomach sink a little lower at even the suggestion. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it once or twice, especially during their more heated exchanges. Pretty boy with a tight body like Jungkook, they always look good on their knees. Perfect eyes for it, too. Maybe the looks Yoongi's raked over him in the practice room and smoke-filled bars haven't been entirely subtle. Maybe the kid's bating him, teasing at the corner of something that'll never really reveal itself. Maybe he means it.
Yoongi kind of wants to find out.
"Hoseok, keep practice going. I need a word with Jungkook outside." The words leave no room for argument, and he doesn't get one. Three seconds flat and the heavy bass of his track is filling the room just as he's leaving it, knowing without needing to look over his shoulder that the kid is following him. He silently leads the way, the only gesture at all being the long fingers that tighten the slack bandana in his hair. It's the same thing he does before working the stage on weekends. He doesn't stop until he reaches the men's bathroom at the end of the hallway. It's grimy, disgusting, and probably has never seen better days, period--it also has a single stall that Yoongi crams them both into. Easing himself back against the frame, Yoongi clicks the lock into place, lazily sizing up the younger boy without a word. And then, tossing the challenge right back: "Alright."