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Until The Flowers Bloom Again

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The liquid had a slow burn as it traveled down the man's throat, who knocked the shot glass back down onto the table before waving his hand. A silent gesture to the bartender to fill it up again.

"Yoongi, you're way past limit."

The man, seemingly named Yoongi from the bitter yet steady tone the bartender uses, just looks at him. Eyes sharp, slightly narrowed and his lips pressed into a tight line. He stood up, revealing his shorter stature to the other behind the table. Not intimidating at first glance but with the daggers he was glaring into bartender’s soul spoke of other things.

"Fuck you and give me my fucking drink." He hissed, a bit louder than what's normal but the music that played through the shitty speakers in the bar was a tad overwhelming to Yoongi's ears, scowl only deepened when the man shook his head once more. "I said, you're past your damn limit."

Yoongi narrowed his eyes more, glaring right into the bartender's soul it seemed, keeping this for a moment before partly giving up, "You're useless, Namjoon. You know that?"

So he plainly reached over the table, grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniel's hidden within the various other bottles of booze and ignored the protests from the man, revealed to be Namjoon. Yoongi poured himself a couple more shots, knocking each and every back till he felt the room gyrating under his feet and stars appearing in his line of vision. Just the type of incapacitated he liked to be in. Not too drunk but at the very least tipsy.

"I'm calling you a cab--"

"Wait- well would you look at that." It was slurred and a tad incoherent, but it caught Namjoon's attention enough to have him turn in the direction Yoongi had pointed in, and it surely was worth it with the sight he was presented with:

There was another man, couldn't be older than 21 with the soft and supple face he was sporting; eyes wide and rounded as they darted around the bar intently, like a fawn searching for its mother. He had his plump lower lip caught between his front teeth, which were larger than the rest and most definitely would not be concealed with the thin, bow-shaped top lip. He looked to be wearing a soft, baby blue t-shirt with a black sweater on top. Why was that just the cutest thing? Yoongi could imagine this boy wearing pastels and light shorts with a wide smile and- Get a hold of yourself, Yoongi.

The boy had a nearly empty bottle of Corona clamped between his fingers, taking little sips here and there as he looked around. He looked completely out of his limit while scanning whoever was sat at the dingy tables scattered around the small bar. Soon, his eyes were dragging back to the drinks area, catching both of the older men staring at him and Yoongi could've sworn this boy's face changed into fifty different shades of pink.

Namjoon was the one to quickly turn back and away, averting his gaze back to the man on his right and whispering, "Do you know him?"

"Nope, but I wanna now." Yoongi retorted, long fingers tapping away at the table and his eyes never leaving the suddenly very shy boy.

Maybe it was the liquid confidence running through his veins from the one too many shots of whiskey or the dire need to get a better look at the cutie across the room from him, but Yoongi soon found himself swaying over to the boy across the bar, Namjoon oh so nonchalantly shuffling along with a bottle of beer in hand.

"Sorry for staring so mu-"

"Would you like a dri-"

Yoongi and the boy started at the same time, blinking in unison before Yoongi breathed a soft chuckle at the embarrassment once again settling on the other's face. Could this boy’s face get any redder?

"Would you like a drink? Well- another one?" Namjoon completed Yoongi's thought, sliding over the bottle in hand and leaning his elbows on the table, trying to get a closer look at the cute face. His eyes were darting every feature they could in the shitty lighting and Yoongi would urge him to be a bit more subtle, but he wasn’t being really slick with how enthralled he was at just staring.

"T-thanks..." The boy stumbled over his words while accepting the drink, looking between the two men and sipping on it carefully.

"What's your name, kid?" Yoongi took to taking the seat beside the other, turning the stool so he was facing his side and his knees gently brushed the boy's thigh. Woah, muscular... They seemed pretty thick just looking, bet they feel even better without those tight ass pants on- wait, shit. I don't even know if he's of age....Fucking hell he's pretty...

Yoongi was so lost in his thoughts that he completely missed over some of the coversation exchanged between the other men, the younger laughing at something Namjoon had said and finally, they noticed. "The hell happened to you? You just... blanked out staring at Jungkook's thighs." Namjoon quipped, attention back to Yoongi.

Jungkook? Cute. "Sorry, the alcohol is wearing off a bit already."

The boy, Jungkook, couldn't hold back the small laugh from leaving him and he took another swig of his beer.

"Are they nice at least?"


"My thighs, nice?" Jungkook repeated himself, annoyingly simplifying his words for Yoongi.

"Yeah, they're alright I guess." He tried to look anywhere but Jungkook. The ceiling, the tables scattered around the room with irrelevant people sat at them, chatting and drinking their lives away as per usual.

That's another thing that had Yoongi wondering as he blatantly stared at the young man. Why is Jungkook even in this bar? It was a place known for being in that one sketchy area of the city. Where all the drunkards, lowlifes, and predators alike came for some hard liquor and a reason to burn their paychecks.

Yoongi mainly came only because he was friends with Namjoon, since high school. It near guaranteed him free booze, but with a limit so Yoongi wasn't walking the streets babbling to unsuspecting women and getting arrested for harassment. Been there, done that . As well as the bar being kind of close to where he lived, and his work too. He could waste his time here chatting to a friend while distracting away from any responsibilities he had. Procrastination at it’s finest.

He knew the regulars, the businessmen who were nowhere in their lives, bad living arrangements with insane wives and pestering kids probably. Then there were the lowlifes, ones who had random labour jobs, like construction or whatever. Usually lived in the motel a few stores down from the bar, and came to drink their struggles away. There were a few homeless drunks who came in when the hat tips garnered enough for a couple bottles of beer. But Namjoon usually just put the alcohol on the house and charged them for some food instead.

But a fresh face like Jungkook's, who was probably still in university if he went and lived at home with his mommy and daddy, was a rarity if Yoongi ever saw one before. Made him inspect the boy once again, look him over for anything Yoongi's sharp eyes may have missed on the cute face.

Lo and behold, he took note to the red tinged skin under the boy's slightly puffy eyes. A sign of him crying, as well as the redness at the tip of his nose...

"So, kid. What brings you to these parts?" Namjoon broke the silence between the three, mainly trying to start a conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi as there had been an 'influx' of customers. Also known as some more drunks stumbling in. Probably on a bar hopping adventure.

"Uh, I was at a... friend's house, and felt like grabbing a few drinks before I went back home."

There were pauses in his speech. Pauses that had Yoongi's eyes narrowing in interest as he understood just why Jungkook had used the pauses and he wondered if he was able to ask about it.

But Yoongi being the blunt asshole he was waved to Namjoon as he scurried off and asked, "By friend, I'm assuming you mean partner. And I can see that the redness of your face isn't from the alcohol."

His inferences must've hit some nerve because Jungkook's entire face lit up like a Christmas tree, almost the colour of Santa's dumb jacket. He attempted to string together a coherent sentence, but it only resulted in mumbles and the only thing Yoongi could understand, "H-how..?"

To which the elder just shrugged, "Intuition. Pretty faces like yours don't come around here. I'm usually the younger one when it comes to the demographic, and I'm not that young."

Jungkook hummed in response, bringing the bottle up to his lips and finishing the rest of the drink, trying to regain whatever resistance he had. The older knew he was trying to not cry again, so he simply allowed the subject to drop. "You look young to me."

"I'm 28, still young. But look around. Excluding Namjoon and me, the average age is probably 50."

"Alright, I get it. I lied! I was at my bo- well, now ex-boyfriend’s house. He’s a fucking prick, I don’t wanna talk about him— So tell me, what else do you think about me... mister?"

"Yoongi, nice to meet you." He paired the words with a mock bow, laughing to himself.

"Mister Yoongi."

"Yoongi is just fine." And he swears he can hear the annoyed huff coming from Jungkook. If the kid wasn't absolutely adorable, Yoongi would've deemed him a fucking prick himself. "I sense you're pretty innocent. But you probably know why Namjoon and I came up to you, yeah?"

Jungkook just placed his bottle down on the counter, fingers intertwining together and he turned in his chair to face Yoongi properly, a more... ambiguous look in his eyes.

"And why's that?"

"Because one of us is gonna end up taking you to the bathroom back there and have our way with you."

"You're both nasty old men." Jungkook pulled a grimace, though with the smile peeking through and those bow-shaped lips quirking up a tad, Yoongi could never take that serious.

And soon they were both laughing amongst themselves, small talk turning into elaborate and long conversations about Jungkook's school and how he was an Art major, with big dreams of becoming an artist or a mangaka. Something else that Yoongi learned over about three more beers for each man, Jungkook was a complete nerd. He liked anime, priding himself on the fact that he can finish a whole season within a night and had the dark circles to prove it. Something he and Yoongi had in common, but the elder didn’t admit that until he could trust he wouldn’t be made fun of for being nearly 30 and still rewatching episodes of Ouran before he goes to sleep.

"But imagine! Writing your own manga, drawing it and everything— you have all that control over what you want."

Yoongi couldn't help but admire the youthfulness Jungkook held. He was hopeful, and excited about the future. The kid was only 21, a bit too young for Yoongi's taste if he was being honest, but just... something about how Jungkook was the way Yoongi was when he was younger made him all the more intriguing. Yoongi was a hopeful student at one point, though he did drop out of Business Management after his first year because it wasn't what he truly wanted to do. He wanted to let there be an impact he had on a life, and somehow, someway, he decided that impact would be through his own form of art. It brought some inspiration back into Yoongi, like seeing this ambitious kid was bringing him a whole new light he hadn’t felt nor seen in what felt like years.

Jungkook's cheeks flushed with the steady drunkness that took over him, his speech slurred. His lips pulled up to reveal those bunny teeth Yoongi was slowly falling for. But not in a gross puppy love kind of way, Yoongi doesn't do that shit. Only reason why he came up to Jungkook was to get into his pants, but here he is trading life stories and lessons with a kid.


Jungkook brought up the question, when they finally decided to stumble their way out of the dingy bar and down the street to where Yoongi's apartment was. It was a near struggle to keep walking alright, and not get caught for public intoxication but every four or so steps, Yoongi had to verbally reassure that his place was only four more steps. Just four more steps, I think

"So what do you do, Mr. Yoongi?"

"Fuckin— Either call me Yoongi or call me daddy, nothing else, boy."

"Okay," Jungkook just giggled, a high and airy sort of laugh as he propped himself against Yoongi, who was fishing for his keys with shaky hands. He had a sort of distant look to him as he stared over to the older of the two as he said, "what do you do for work, daddy?"

And the keys fell right from Yoongi’s hands clanging on the tiled floors in front of his apartment door at the name. He didn't think the guy would actually take into calling him that. But he quickly regained himself, snatching the keys back up and swinging his door open as fast as he could. He took multiple deep breaths in hopes that Jungkook hadn’t noticed the hitch and pause of his air.

"I-I'm a tattoo artist, actually." The words were mumbled as he trudged into his home, kicking his shoes off and almost immediately shedding the suddenly suffocating jacket off. "Have my own shop down two blocks."

"Woah....that's fucking cool!"

All Yoongi could do for a little while was nod his head awkwardly, fingers scratching the back of his head and he hated how he was sobering up already. He could sense the alcohol was probably still going strong through Jungkook's system, it wouldn't be right of him if he were to ask the younger for sex now. So he opted into the next best option he could think of,

"Uh- wanna watch the Lion King and cuddle for a while?"


"Do you think I'd look good with tattoos?"

The question was random, the movie having long finished and Yoongi can only guess at that point that it had to be nearing hours bordering night and morning. He was tempted to ask if Jungkook should be heading home back to his mom and dad, not nuzzling back against Yoongi's body as the younger refused to be anything but little spoon. Despite the rather obvious height and body size difference between the two men.

"Maybe," Yoongi began, his arm curling around Jungkook's waist and the pads of his fingers slipping under his shirt, "depends on where and what tattoo."

Jungkook turned his head, glancing back at Yoongi and god, he was close. Way too close— Yoongi could see every single pore on the kid's face, and the quick breaths tickled the elder's cupid's bow in a way that he could never admit felt nice. "Well, what tattoo would look good on me?"

"This is shit you book a consultation for, that I get paid for. I ain't givin' it to you for free."

And Jungkook whined at this, cheeks still dusted with rosy hues from the booze still coursing through his veins to his liver. He whined and whimpered till Yoongi couldn't hold the eye roll back any longer.

"Fine, I think maybe a... flower tattoo. On your arm."

Jungkook blinked his eyes a few times, there still seemed to be a bit of that unfocused gaze but it was hard to see fully in the dark. "And what type of flower?"

Yoongi groaned at the never ending questions sent to him. He quickly learned that no one was as curious as Jungkook, not a single person he’s ever met in his whole 28 years of living on this godforsaken earth. He asked question after observation after quip, like he needed every answer in the universe.

"I don't know— orchids maybe? Or, what I think would look pretty is... a whole cherry blossom tree, on the span of your back perhaps. And the branches move out over your shoulder blades. Or the tree curling up from your elbow till your shoulder… I personally think the back tattoo would look better."

Jungkook had a more alert face on the next time Yoongi glanced down to him, eyes rounded and lips curved into a little 'o' and Yoongi couldn't help but to lean forward and press a small kiss to the younger man's forehead. God, why is his heart going 100 miles per hour just looking at Jungkook? "I— I want it."

It was Yoongi's turn now to blink and he was shaking his head almost immediately, looking away from Jungkook to stare straight at the stilled screen of his t.v one the movie's menu.

"Be rational," he started with a more solid voice, "you have that on you forever."

"Fine. When we sober up, just watch. I'm g-gonna still want it." He sounded determined, Yoongi had to give him that. But all the older responded with is a shrug of his shoulders as his eyes took to closing. Arms still wound around Jungkook easily as the world began to slip and fade into a nice darkness and Yoongi voiced one last thing. Of course, being the asshole that he is he has to have the last say.

"Whatever, we'll do it tomorrow if you want."


"You know, this is kind of illegal?"


Yoongi looked up from where he'd been rifling through some of his art folders, a mess skewed across his table. He dreaded the face he was met with, he looked ten times cuter when he was sober.

Yoongi woke up this morning alone, sprawled on his couch with a sticky note not so carefully stuck to his forehead. He gauged that if it hadn't fallen off already, Jungkook mustn't have left all too long ago.

I forgot I have a class in the morning. But I'll be seeing you later, Mister Yoongi. — Jungkook.

"You need a medical license to be a tattoo artist."

Yoongi scowled at Jungkook, standing up from his work table in the middle of the shop and walking over to the younger. He had no shame as he grabbed Jungkook's chin, index finger and thumb hooking there and tugged so his eyes were properly met.

"What do you want?"

Jungkook didn't seem all too phased with the other's rude demeanor. Just tutted his tongue and gestured by raising his hand and pointing to somewhere behind Yoongi. Once he understood that Jungkook was pointing to the wrapped bench people lay on while he tattooed them, he let his hand fall away from his face and briskly walked back to his work table.

"So, you're serious about this?"


"Did you ask your mommy?"

"Shut the fuck up." Yoongi scoffed a mocking laugh, plopping right down on his chair and biting his tongue from making a snide comment about not talking back to your elders like that.

He didn't speak further, just waved Jungkook over to him and asked him to sit in the consulting seat across from Yoongi. They discussed simple things, if Jungkook's skin was easily irritated or if he bruised easily. Jungkook nodded to the bruising question, explaining that he could knock his leg on the wall and there'd be a huge ass bruise.

The conversation moved from that to what Jungkook actually wanted the tattoo to look like, Yoongi's memory a bit foggy from last night but he still pulled out his tattered design book and started to roughly sketch out what he had in mind. Jungkook just said he wanted it to be the artist's vision, that that would end up being the most beautiful if the artist actually put thorough direction into the work. Stupid Art kids with their refined views.

"Does this look good?"

The book is pushed across the desk after about ten minutes, Yoongi dropping the pencils he had in hand and leaning back in his chair with a groan while he waited for Jungkook to look. His eyes were closed but he heard the boy reach for a pencil and could hear the contact between led and paper being made. Yoongi didn't care, was happy for the most part that he had a client who could actually draw and edit instead of having to call Seokjin in from the back room maybe to do it for his lazy ass.

Speaking of, there was rustling of footsteps against the tiled floor and if Yoongi wasn't still nursing this hangover of his he'd care enough to open his eyes, but just let himself listen to the silky voice pierce the silent atmosphere. "Yoong, that order of inks came in this morni— oh, a client?"

Jungkook was the only one to glance up and over to the new body in the room, mouth parted slightly to answer but he stopped just before he could even start looking at Seokjin. Not even trying to hide the look of awe that graced his innocent features and a now sitting up Yoongi just rolled his eyes.

He can understand, Seokjin was hot. In a slim fitting t-shirt that showed of the colourful sleeve traveling up his left arm. Right from the wrist till it disappeared and Yoongi knew it continued till the man's back, as it was his creation of course. A mix of all the nerdy shit the man was into and of a few small portraits of Seokjin's dog and silly doodles that had been created over the years. Yoongi prided himself on Seokjin's tattoos, as his assistant and best friend he was automatically his canvas as well. He could say the same about Namjoon, under all those work clothes of his were a nice array of tattoos Yoongi had graced the tan skin with. Since he’d rather test his sketches on real models than just a book, his friends were happy to help with that.

"Nah, a friend."

"When did you start making college friends? Do I sniff a little pedophilia?"

Seokjin burst into laughter at his own joke. Fucking lame. Jungkook couldn't react, his eyes having wandered away —finally, might Yoongi add— from Seokjin's face to the tattoos. There were some also scattered along the right forearm and bicep, very similar to any tattoo that Yoongi had himself; all spread out over his body.

"Fuck off, firstly you're older than me and secondly, he's of age— you are, right?"

"Uh..." Jungkook began, handing the sketchbook back over to Yoongi before grinning. Teeth on full display, eyes crinkled and nose scrunched up and shit there Yoongi's heart goes again, hammering against his chest. "I'm 21 if that makes you feel better, grandpa."

"Do you want a nice tattoo or for me to fuck it up?"


"Then shut the fuck up and take your shirt off."

Yoongi's patience in himself was dwindling quicker than he'd hoped, he hated to admit but seeing how both Seokjin and Jungkook fell into such an easy conversation, all the while the youngest was draping his shirt over his chair and his lean body was on full display, it bothered him slightly. Just a little bit- barely even anything.

Jeez, what the hell is wrong with you?


It wasn't for another few weeks till Jungkook came back to the shop to continue the tattoo. In that time, he'd gotten busy with his exams just around the corner, and it took him a little longer to heal enough to feel comfortable coming back to Yoongi.

They spoke on the phone and hung out regularly, Yoongi swearing to Seokjin that it was just him being cautious to make sure the other was okay and distract the stressed boy with something fun. And wanting to finish this fucking tattoo so he wouldn't have to see Jungkook again. He was growing all too fond; way too happy when Jungkook walked into his little cluttered shop, smile plastered on his usually annoyed face and even Seokjin scoffed at the sight.

"Exams over, kid?" Seokjin asked, placing the box of freshly bought inks onto a table and he began to unbox them. He put aside the browns and lighter pinks for Yoongi, as well as began to prepare the needles for him.

"Yes! The year is finally fucking over." Jungkook exclaimed, shucking his shirt off in one quick movement and Yoongi's eyes tried to look anywhere but the chiseled pectorals, the defined abs and slim waist. He had a pretty body shape, despite muscle packed on muscle. Was it strange that Yoongi found Jungkook to be absolutely gorgeous?

Soft facial features, a melodic laugh that filled the entire store at Seokjin's jokes meant to distract Jungkook as Yoongi got to work on finishing the trunk of the massive tree today, how his head leaned on his overlapping arms against the top of the chair and he looked up to Yoongi with those deer-like eyes and ears tinged a slight red. Fucking hell, he was in too deep.

When in doubt, focus on your work. All he had to do was work on the flowers and falling petals, the trunk and branches all done and shaded in with various shades of brown and darker brown, and lighter brown- just brown. The tree began right at the base of Jungkook's back, near the swell of where his ass began and cascaded up the strong back. Trunk going straight up the far left side of his back and branching out to the middle and right side.

Tips of the branches stopped right at the boy's shoulders. God, it looked really nice— Yoongi was impressed with himself. "Alright, I finished the trunk portion. Wanna finish this up now or wait, kid?"

Jungkook shifted a little bit, groaning from finally moving after so long and just simply shrugged. He seemed to be bored, Seokjin having gone home after his shift and it had been just Yoongi and Jungkook in silence for a long while.

"Yeah, please. I wanna see the finished product!"

He was so cute, Yoongi was done for at this point. So he scooted closer to the work bench, one arm wrapping around Jungkook, resting right on top of his ass—a really nice one, might he say— and he got to work on the flowers.

Now this part was the true centerpiece, pastel pinks and rose reds mixed with white, bigger flowers attached to the branches while small petals cascaded down Jungkook's back till just where the trunk ends and a bit further down. This was what Yoongi was waiting for, and he found himself completely immersed in painting Jungkook's back.

"So," Yoongi began, in desperate need of hearing the boy's voice so he could sense if he was alright, "do you work?"

Jungkook hummed for a moment, fingers drumming along the bench next to his head. "I do, sometimes— My parents own a flower shop, so I help out."

This intrigued Yoongi, who was putting the finishing touches on the petals that'd been falling away from the tree, wiping away the excess ink with the towel he kept off to the side. "You must know a lot about flowers, then."

"Yep, all that was jammed into my small, impressionable brain. But I wouldn't call myself a florist, I leave that to my dad."

Yoongi smiled, a hidden one that only he could see and no one else. It was nice hearing about the kid's life, something Yoongi had been slowly squeezing himself into. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked so much with a 'client'...friend... Could he consider Jungkook and him friends at this point?

Yet thinking about friendship with Jungkook didn't feel nice, Yoongi didn't want that.

He realised this as he finished wiping off all the remaining ink and taking the wrap for Jungkook, tapping said boy's thigh and requesting for him to sit up. Yoongi nicely slotted his smaller frame between Jungkook's spread legs as they dangled off the edge of the raised bench, arms shifting to properly cover the completed tattoo so that it healed properly like that. Yoongi made the mistake of glancing over to Jungkook. He was all wide-eyed and pouty lipped. Though he'd never admit it, there were tears brimming in Jungkook's eyes and god, Yoongi just wanted to kiss away every single trace of moisture.

Jungkook looked at him with an expression Yoongi couldn't figure out, yet it was familiar. One the younger had shared with him when they walked to the bar together after marathoning an anime to see Namjoon, arms linked together and excitedly babbling about every single fight scene in the show with wide grins and loud laughter that got them glares from passerbys. Or when one of Jungkook's college friends dragged the two of them away from where they'd been snug in a blanket fort at Yoongi's place for movies and pizza, Jungkook stuck to Yoongi that whole night, as if he couldn’t bear the idea of having the seperate from the older. It was a look filled with wonder, and innocence, and— something.

There was something else there, and it didn't make sense in his eyes.

Not until Jungkook leaned his head down, eye-to-eye, lip-to-lip, breath mingling in such a graceful way that Yoongi felt light-headed. Felt as if he was on a cloud and not near trembling as he moved to close the annoying distance between their lips. So many weeks of walking on eggshells around Jungkook, to not push anything he shouldn't. Because he was just a kid, one who wasn’t interested in an old man like Yoongi. The difference in ages always had Yoongi thinking twice, because he didn’t want to be looked to as the guy dating a student in college. Or just messing around with one, an impressionable kid and Namjoon’s warned him. Lots of times, that he shouldn’t be playing with feelings if he wasn’t serious about them, because both of them would end up hurting.


But just— the way Jungkook’s soft, supple, small lips molded with Yoongi’s, soft little huffs of air escaping the younger’s nose whilst his arms came up to wrap around Yoongi’s shoulders, tugging him impossibly closer. It was all too much for the elder, who’s idle hands came up and rested on sculpted thighs he’d been eyeing ever since he’d met the damn kid. How could he ever resist such a cute, adorable, bundle of innocence?


Not even innocence, Yoongi sensed where the kiss was going the moment Jungkook’s lips parted to exhale a short, muffled moan against the older’s lips and that only made Yoongi’s fingers tighten over the clothed muscle.


“Jungkook—” Yoongi starts, pulling away barely from the lip lock, lips still hovering right over Jungkook’s, “We can’t do anything.”


“I just gave you a fucking tattoo, it’d hurt if I fucked you against this table.”


Jungkook huffed out, moving back and crossing his arms over his chest. Jesus, he was sending Yoongi the cutest pout known to man and fucking hell, this brat’s going to be the end of Yoongi, he knows it. “Pleaseeeee? We’ll be careful- Hyung, I’ve been wanting this for a damn month and a half.”


Yoongi simply sighed and smoothed his hands over Jungkook’s thighs, leaning forward to rest his head on the bare chest in front of him and absentmindedly, his lips puckered and pressing feather-light kisses to wherever they could reach. He heard the other’s breath hitch, causing a small smirk to quirk his lips up and Yoongi made the kisses firmer. Trailing them further and further down, till the kisses moved to open-mouthed suckles of the pale skin and obvious teasing and avoidance of Jungkook’s hardening nubs. Quiet pleas were heard from Jungkook, ‘ please touch me— my n-nipples— ” and ‘ n-need you, need you to touch me, daddy .”


Yep, Yoongi is for sure a goner at this point.






“Does it hurt?”


“No, just c-continue, please…”


“Alright, brat.” The words were of sharp delivery but no bite whatsoever from Yoongi, who was so nicely sat down on the back of Jungkook’s now bare thighs, hands busying themselves with one kneading the plump asscheek on full display. Oh, and the other weasling a second finger into the mix of stretching the younger’s pretty, pink hole.


It was vulgar to think about what they were doing; Jungkook sprawled on his stomach again to make sure as minimal pain was felt on his back but the way he was arching into Yoongi’s slender fingers, hips raising to shift back impatiently because he wants more— he needs more from Yoongi. But fuck it if Yoongi wasn’t the biggest tease, as he was slowly learning. His pants were pulled down, the tight waistband hugging right under Jungkook’s plush ass and squeezing the cheeks together. Yoongi had to push them apart to get his fingers nice and snug inside the tight heat that was offered to him. He ignored the quiet begging filling his ears, for more and daddy, please fuck me already — so adamant on teasing the brat out of Jungkook. He leans down enough to spit onto his fingers there, a dirty and rather unsanitary way of handling things but he assumed that it was alright while he slipped a third digit into the mix and was blessed with a choked out ‘f—fuck! Right there.. Pleaseee.’ Jungkook made the cutest noises, softest sounds paired with the most subtle shudders that traveled up his spine.


He was a wreck at this point in time, toes curling within his shoes and hands clutching at the sides of the bench, he didn’t care for his volume or even the still freshly wrapped tattoo on his back. The dull ache was there and very present, shooting up every nerve ending but it only added to the bout of pleasure pooling in the pit of his stomach. Jungkook knew he could simply come undone like this, his cock throbbing uncomfortably against the surface beneath him and all he needed was more friction, something to pair with how Yoongi’s long fingers were brushing against that sweet bundle of nerves that his own fingers have never been able to reach. Anything right now would be better.





“Ah—” Jungkook started, but was politely interrupted with a particularly harsh thrust angled right into his prostate, knocking the breath right out of him and that pleasure pressing against his core only growing. His hips stuttered down to grind against the material under him, chasing for that beyond euphoric feeling with Yoongi steadily pistoning his fingers right into his prostate. “G-gonna come…”


Yoongi raised an eyebrow, a look of awe lighting up his eyes and the confession given to him only made him move the three digits faster, curling them to scrap in just the right places and his free hand came up, smacking down against the pillowy flesh. “Little boy, gonna come for daddy? Just from his fingers? Such a needy boy— How cute.” The words that flittered into Jungkook’s ears and easily played on loop in his mind along with every part of his body on fire with just how hot Yoongi was, it all built up until he was exploding- rather, rutting down on the bench till he felt the warmth of his own sticky come on his stomach once he laid back flat on it.


Pants escaped past his parted lips as he slowly started to come down from his high, his forehead resting on his crossed forearms and a beaten out whimper is heard when Yoongi finally pulls out his fingers and sits back again, exhaling a light groan.


“D-do you… need help?”


“No I— Kinda came— in my pants?”

Jungkook just blinked, turning his head to gaze back at Yoongi and the evident red hues crawling up his neck to rest on his cheeks and the slight bruising around his lower lip from biting it kind of confirmed it for Jungkook; but he still peeked down, seeing the telltale wet spot on the front of Yoongi’s pants and all he did was snort through his nose. Shifting back to lay properly on the bench without a care for cleaning up just yet.


“That’s gross, Mr. Yoongi.”

“Don’t you mean daddy ?”


“Get the fuck off of me right now, piece of shit.”






Smoke blew out from his lips, mixing with the humid air surrounding him. There was the dull drumming of heavy bass coming from next door to him but to Yoongi couldn’t really care, too busy on tapping the excess ash off his cigarette and sketching out a small bundle of carnations, only aroused out of this trance once a voice fills his empty workroom in his store.


“Carnations mean lots of things, mister.”

Yoongi shifts in his chair a bit to look behind him, smile almost immediately taking over his features once his eyes meet with a large, doe-eyed pair. Jungkook slowly walked closer, until he was right behind Yoongi’s chair and looked over to the drawing with a better view. It wasn’t anything detailed, very much just lineart from what he could tell. But Jungkook had other tattoos that resembled that style, it was very much Yoongi. He thrilled off the simplicity when it came to the smaller tattoos he’d given Jungkook over the past months, all different flowers.


A few red roses mixed with white ones, something Jungkook had explained to Yoongi one night over a few beers and The Little Mermaid was “Intense love, something similar to young and just blooming love- but it still entailed strength in the love.” He also had a bright orange lily, of sunshine hues that bloomed across the left side of his chest, right where his heart would hammer against with each fleeting kiss Yoongi laid upon his entire body. Lilies represented a lot of things as well, but the one of Jungkook meant passion. It expressed him perfectly, how passionately he felt for so many things: his love for flowers, for art, for Yoongi.


They didn’t love the word ‘boyfriend’, yet it was what anyone who so happened to walk into the shop and maybe spotted Jungkook sat across Yoongi’s lap, scrolling away on his phone while looking at some test designs for new tattoos or that one time Jungkook insisted on giving Yoongi a haircut, just offering to shave the sides and that he wouldn’t charge anything more than a blowjob. The younger said he hated how long the undercut was getting, and since it was getting hotter when August started it just made the most sense. They had just thrown a sheet onto the floor and Jungkook shaved Yoongi’s head right in the middle of the store, where a few customers came in with appointments and joked about how adorably domestic the view was.


It was there when Jungkook came to find his favorite tattoo that Yoongi had, a scrawled “D-Boy” hidden where the hair had grown over it. He asked what it meant, and the elder explained, “I’m from Daegu, moved to Seoul for high school and a better chance. But everything is in Daegu for me, my family and old friends. Well- I guess not everything, since you’re here. With me.”


Boyfriends is what they were, so whatever.


“And why don’t you tell me the meaning of red carnations, smartass?”


Jungkook scoffed a laugh and reached to snatch the cigarette from between Yoongi’s lips where he was mid-inhale, putting the butt out in one of the many ashtrays that were scattered around the shop. Personally, Jungkook had a sensitive nose and despised the smoke scent, but he just couldn’t encourage Yoongi to quit. So he had to settle for doing this and sticking his tongue out at the annoyed glare that was thrown his way.


“Red carnations symbolise love and admiration. As well as pride.” He spoke matter-of-factly, arms draping around the older’s shoulders and his head dipping into the crook of his neck, out of comfortable instinct between the two. “Who’s it for?”

Yoongi hummed in response, not speaking for a moment as he reached for his red felt tip marker, roughly colouring in where he’d want the colour on the carnation flower before tipping his head back to press a over the top smooch to Jungkook’s chubby little cheek. “You, of course. I refuse to give my other clients hand drawn flower designs. That’s exclusively for the one brat who just won’t leave me alone.


“Haha, very funny, grandpa.”


“Don’t you mean daddy?”


“I swear to god, shut up!” Jungkook exclaimed, but the way his cheeks lit up like a christmas tree on the 24th of December, his annoyance was debunked easily.


“I was thinking— the right bicep. It’d look good with the chrysanthemum there since they’d both be red.”


“Hmm, cute colour scheme.”


“You’re a cute colour scheme—”


“And the dad jokes are my cue to leave. Bye, Yoongi!”