[M] It Was Never About the Mu (1/1)
"He always told him, boys will only listen to you when you talk to them between the sheets."Shameless JJP smut where Jinyoung is in a punk band and Jaebum´s family owns the punk bar they play at. I had too much fun with this.-Jinyoung liked to think life was like a concert - standing on stage in front of thousands or less than a dozen of people; different sounds and different crowds, instruments, fame and prestige depending on the person, their name, their values and attitude they adopt overtime.With that said, standing on a literal stage felt like he owned the entire place; from his own planet to the intergalactic stars - he owned them in a dirty old punk bar that should´ve gone to hell in the eighties, with girls without shirts and guys without much healthy conscious pushing each other in pogo dances that let Sid Vicious to shame; he´d feel on top of the world, on top of the filthy bass and the beauteous sound of Jackon´s voice; people shouting loud and the scent of beer and sweat filling up the air in the packed space they shared.Then the show ends, and Jackson has always said that if there´s one thing that´s better than sex, it´s the thirty seconds after Jinyoung hits the final drum and the music still buzzes in their ears.Jinyoung agreed.“That was amazing.” Jackson gloated, sitting down in the bar stool surrounded by people and groupies who just really, really wanted to fuck an up-and-coming rockstar - Mark sat down next to him quickly ordering the whiskey shots that became tradition and Yugyeom put his arm around Jinyoung, sitting on his lap. “Damn boy you really put your heart out in the last song, huh?” Jinyoung sure did - his hands still shaked from the intensity; like he was hitting the beat like he was breathing, inhaling, exhaling. “Your favourite fanboy was oggling you again, ya know?” Jackson said, and they all raised their cups in celebration of another successful gig.“He left right after we finished though, what a shy little fucker.” Mark poked the arm of the owner of the bar - also the bartender - and waved his hand infront of his face to get his attention, which was otherwise on the small television in the corner. “Yo Mr.Im, where´s your son?”Mr.Im, looking young and extremely attractive for his age, barely turned around to answer. “Upstairs - I don´t want you hooligans corrupting him though.”Jackson laughed, hard. “A little too late for that when he grew up in a punk bar, huh?” And then he smacked both his and Mark´s pints down for a refill - fourty-five minutes later, they were all comfortably tipsy and taking the unnecessary clothing off, fifty minutes later, Jackson had two girls around his arms he was kissing, sixty minutes later, he ditched them to kiss Mark instead and seventy minutes later, Jinyoung stood up having to take a piss, he grandiously announced, but ended up going the wrong way and facing the entrance to the apartment where Im and his son lived, from a staircase inside the bar itself, right next to the stage - he could feel it shaking from the music.That was the thing about bar-owners, Jinyoung noticed; they never closed their doors, ever, whether it was the entrance of the apartment or when they were fucking in a bedroom. Though normally he´d be greeted by some good-for-nothing leeching off of his fathers money or injecting himself stupid, this time he just found a dim light in a room at the end of the hallway; he´d been here before, to collect his groups pay or when any of them drank themselves so silly they had to lay down away from everyone else. Mostly it was Yugyeom.Naturally, he closed the door, softly with his foot; curiousity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back and all; no moans, no grunts, just the passing of pages and click of pens - the music from downstairs became a soundtrack of him walking down the hallway that sure felt longer than it really was - for all he knew, he could find the owners son dead on the floor, getting high or doing some creepy hocus-pocus.“What are you doing here?” The boy interrupted his little fantasy - shit, the boy didn´t even have to look up from his desk to know Jinyoung was leaning on the doorframe, he considered it might´ve actually been hocus pocus, and that the boy asserted his dominance with a four word phrase. He loved it.“So this is what you do on a Friday night?”“I have an essay due.” He continued typing, still not looking at Jinyoung - it didn´t sound like he was getting kicked out, though, so he took the liberty of staring at the different books in his room; it was a pretty small room, really, with a bed next to a large window, desk right next to it and two big steps away was the closet and the bookshelf: It was tidy, some socks and magazines aside.He guessed they were about three-hundred books in total; from music books to comics to novels with outrageous titles such as “The Angry Boobs” which reminded him of Jacksons totally-serious-but-totally-awful suggestions for their band name.“You study music?” he asked. “Jaebum… Jaebum the arts major?”Jaebum, the supposed art major, finally turned around and took his sweet time in answering; he analyzed Jinyoung from tip-to-toe. He looked a lot more sophisticated, he noted, without his rowdy bandmantes surrounding him, without the smoking covering his face and without the passion and heat for the music changing his overall aura - if he didn´t know about any of that, Jaebum would´ve guessed he was a typical introvert who just had a thing for ripped clothes; ripped sweater and ripped jeans.“Yeah. What´s the point of a ripped sweater?”And then Jinyoung sat on his bed.“We went to the same highschool, didn´t we?”They did, so Jaebum nodded - took his glasses off and shut his lap-top, Jinyoung noticed his lip-rings, the actual pitch black tone of his hair and the silver rose rings around his fingers; his jeans were unbuttoned, legs spread like most men sit. It was a picture that demanded respect and admiration. Jaebum could eat him up and posses him entirely. Jinyoung felt completely submissive in his presence, and he didn´t mind admitting it.“We did - you slept through most of it, though.”Jinyoung smiled. “Well, I wasn´t very interested.”“Neither was I.” Jaebum confessed. “Which is why I also slept through most of it, and everytime I woke up to see if anyone noticed, I saw you were sleeping, too.”Coincidences - Jinyoung was a total loser back then; he still wasn´t convinced he was the hottest thing, but he was definitely a few levels ahead of himself back then. “You think I´m a nuisance, don´t you?”“How so?”He sighed, let himself fall completely on the bed just to hit the glass of the window with his head. “You didn´t talk to me back then-" fuck, it hurt. "You don´t talk to me now.”“I´m talking to you right now, aren´t I?”He was.He was also totally amused by the situation, and Jinyoung was almost embarrassed to say he could feel his own lust and thirst coming from the way he was acting; Jaebum was hot. Jinyoung needed glasses - he always saw him in the distance, blurry and mysterious. “Sure, but you never stay downstairs when we´re here - you´re hot, you´d get attention.”“I don´t like the crowd - plus I don´t exactly feel like getting down with my father in the same bar, not sure if you understand.”“True.” Jinyoung said. “What about our music? Jackson says you stare a lot.”Jaebum never liked punk music and, truthfully, he was just staring at Jinyoung getting swept away by it, shirt wet from the sweat and playing the drums like it was easy; girls throwing their bras at the different members and he concluded that if he had a pair of tits, he´d throw his bra, too. Unfortunately he didn´t, though, and despite his friends BamBams suggestion of buying one and throwing it just because it was a free country and he totally could, he didn´t.“I don´t really listen to the music.” He said. “I just look at you.”