Chapter 3 (1/1)

I guide Jimin through the mass of bodies with a steady hand on his lower back – a universal sign of he’s with me, back the fuck off. It’s necessary too, with the way guys are eyeing him up all over like he was a piece of meat. I honestly can’t blame them though; my teacher literally looks like a wet dream come true right now. I can’t even believe he’s letting me buy him a drink.“What do you want to drink?” I hover over his shoulder from behind, raising my voice so he can hear me.He turns his face so his lips are directly next to my ear. “Something sweet.” I nod and wait for the bartender to get to me.“Malibu Orange for him and whatever I was having with Yoongi,” I order and the guy nods, winking at me after seeing Jimin. I don’t react though because I’m too busy looking at him myself; he has his nose buried in his phone, squinting at small letters on the screen, pretty face illuminated in a faint blue hue.I take him up the staircase that lead to the VIP section after greeting the security guy, and (lame, I know) I feel a kind of pride when his eyes go wide. The section is a loft that goes around all four walls, hanging above the club and littered with tables, chairs and sofas all over. On one side, there are comfy booths and another side has a separate bar. We locate the only booth available – there are always a bunch of people up here – and slide into it. I sit at the end of the table and Jimin takes a seat on my left side, sipping on his drink quietly. He talks first.“This feels kind of weird.”I take a swig. “What’s so weird about it?” I know what he means though.“Well… this,” he flails his hand around, gesturing generally to the whole situation. “I’m kind of weirded out to be sitting at a place like this with my student.”Since I’m a few drinks in, I just giggle. “Come on. It’s the weekend, have a little fun. You’re not my teacher right now.”“No I’m not,” he plays along. “That would be violating like, what, a hundred and seven rules?”“Approximately.”What I learn really quickly is that I’ve honestly forgotten what tipsy Jimin was like. I’m so used to seeing him all professional and collected at school that I totally forgot about this playful, flirty side of him. This is a completely different part of his personality, carefree laughs and suggestive eyes that draw me in until I’m unable to escape. I’m aware that it’s just the alcohol that makes him act this way, but under the influence myself, I honestly couldn’t care less. I don’t even keep track of the time as we talk, but I’d say we’ve been sitting here for almost an hour.“Why are you so funny?” Jimin gasps, clutching his stomach from laughing so much. “You shouldn’t be so cool, I hate this.”There’s a dumb grin on my face that comes with the thrill of having him laugh at my jokes so much, but I can’t be bothered to really cover it up, not when I’m feeling so good. “What do you mean?” I ask instead, trying not to show too much enthusiasm.“Well—” he stops to hold back a burp, which is adorable, “you’re… y’know. You. You’re kind of amazing. But you’re also my student. I shouldn’t be having such a good time.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “God, I’m so unprofessional.”I can’t believe how open he is from just a few drinks – it takes only a couple of sips to have him drop his guard completely like it never even existed. It’s like his actual personality, the real Jimin is locked up behind closed doors anytime he’s in a professional environment (read: school), but as soon as he’s the tiniest bit tipsy, out comes this alluring, witty, beautiful vixen of a man I just can’t get enough of. He’s carefree and confident and I’m drinking it up like I was stumbling upon an oasis after crawling through the Sahara.“It’s okay though,” I assure him. “You should just be able to have fun. If you enjoy yourself with me, why not? Fuck the school board.” I finish whatever I’m having and slam my glass down a bit too hard. Maybe I should stop drinking now, I think to myself.I add a moment later just to calm him, “Besides, I’m not going to try anything.”And he gets this look in his eye, like he’s contemplating something. Fingers fiddling with the rim of his glass, he stays quiet for a minute, and if it weren’t for the music pulsing below us I could hear the gears in his head turning. Looks up at me and swallows, his gaze somewhere on the edge of too intense, too much, dangerous—“What if I want you to?” It’s but a whisper, tumbling over his plush lips before he can really think about it, unsure. My heartbeat skyrockets all of a sudden, and I know I’m on thin ice that could break at any given moment beneath my feet. It’s a fragile moment, both of us too afraid to speak in fear of what might come now that Jimin has put that out in the open.My mind spins with the possibility and something warm creeps up and settles itself low inside my belly.He’s opening his mouth to say something, he wants to voice a follow-up or maybe an explanation, or he’s about to backpedal, I’ll never know; I let my hand creep up his shoulder and grab the back of his neck, making the words die in his throat.I lean in. “Don’t fucking play me,” I all but growl. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”“I do though,” he gasps, so quick, so ready. “I mean it. Fuck, I shouldn’t. But I do.”I pull him closer to me at the middle of the booth and look into his eyes; his intense gaze meets mine and I see the want, the lust. The longing. So I kiss him.Now I’m a little bit drunk but believe me when I say it’s perfect. It’s a drunk kiss that probably looks sloppier than it feels but fuck, is it perfect. I can’t even begin to describe how it feels to be kissing Jimin after what feels like eons ago – although it was merely two months prior that we hooked up, it feels so distant. Must be because I didn’t know him back then; he feels like a different person to me now that I see him every day.We are entangled for a long time and don’t really break apart other than gasping for air in between kisses – small, delicate pecks on the lips and deep ones with his tongue sliding against mine sinfully, you name it. One of his hands is in my hair holding on for dear life and my hands are everywhere; on his face, sliding down and gripping the nape of his neck; on his sides and his firm thigh that’s touching mine. Caressing over his own hand resting on my leg, smoothing over his firm stomach that quivers under my touch. Jimin whimpers into my mouth when my hand goes up under his shirt, skin touching skin – it has me addicted. His little breathy gasps turn me on so much it’s ridiculous, and I swallow all of them like I never want to let them go. In my drunken state I can’t help myself against the lust clouding my mind and I slide my fingertips, ever so slowly, just below the hem of his pants and past his underwear. The gasp against my mouth is so erotic and so very Jimin, and my blunt fingernails are scratching against little trimmed hairs—He breaks away like I’m made of hot metal, looking disheveled and lost.“Please stop,” It’s barely audible. “I can’t do this. I can’t.”His pleading eyes are a telltale sign he’s mostly trying to convince himself, but it’s also a warning for me to stop going. He hangs his head and grips the abandoned glass on the table, eyes looking anywhere but at me.I sober up instantly. “O-okay,” I tell him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”“For what?” His eyes find mine.“…For jumping you like that?”“For—” he scoffs, face twisting into an incredulous expression. “Jumping me? Jeongguk, I literally told you to kiss me. I’m the worst teacher ever, I don’t even deserve this job. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m—”“Stop,” I cut in while trying to shift so that my dick – it’s still hard, the fucking traitor – isn’t so noticeable, not that Jimin is really looking at me anyway. “You’re rambling.”“I’m gonna go home okay?” He asks, eyes full of guilt. It kind of hurts. “I’m… yeah. Sorry. I’ll see you on Monday?”I try to remain collected and put on the friendliest face I can because I know seeing how torn up I am would worry him even more. “Monday. Sleep well, Jimin.”“You too.”And he’s gone.I hang my head low and wait a couple minutes before fetching a taxi outside myself. Checking my texts I see Taehyung’s telling me he’s spending the night at Hoseok’s, so I make my way home quietly.I refuse to think about Jimin even when my head hits the pillow, and in minutes I’m out like a light. I’m not proud to admit that I spend my entire Sunday sulking around, but it’s the truth. Tae comes home a little after noon with breakfast and coffee which makes me feel better, but he still notices that something is off. I brush off his questions and blame it on the hangover – even though I rarely get those and he knows it too – and he leaves the topic alone. I shoot him a grateful smile that assures him I might talk about what’s on my mind later – we understand each other like that. There’s a reason my mom calls Taehyung her “second son”.At around 4:30, while I’m browsing through memes on the internet, my phone rings.“Hello?” I rasp.“Jeongguk?” I’m instantly hit with guilt when I recognize my mom’s voice.“Mom—I’m sorry I didn’t call, I kind of got caught up with studying.” It’s not a lie, I did study a lot and forgot about it the whole week.“It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m just happy to hear your voice! How have you been?”My mother is a beautiful woman, fair and hard-working. She and dad have been together ever since their university days – they met at a coffee shop dad was working at and a year later they found out she was pregnant with me. To be fair, I know now that they’ve been working their asses off just so we could have a nanny, a pool, a game room; and so they could send me to one of the best schools in the country, even if it meant we wouldn’t see each other as often. I know all that now, however that wasn’t always the case. I had a serious case of an emo phase back in middle school where I acted like, to be honest, an ungrateful little shit. I was mad at the world and my parents for no apparent reason, I was your typical spoiled rich kid that nobody could stand. I didn’t have any real friends, just the ones who were the same as me – spoiled, rude little brats who bullied others.Then I started high school and met Taehyung. He was the complete opposite of me; he was nice and polite; growing up with limited opportunities, as his family didn’t have much money, he was only here because of a scholarship. Just by talking to him it only took me days to see how I took everything my parents have worked for for granted. He made me realize how ungrateful I had been and ever since then I’ve aspired to be more like him – and even to this day, I still do.I smile, even though mom can’t see it. “I’m doing fine,” I tell her. “I’ve been getting good grades so far and I have a Biology tutor.” As my mind wanders to Jimin I’m reminded of my worries and my smile fades away, but I don’t let it affect my voice.“Oh, that’s great sweetie!” she chirps. “Maybe you’ll get a better grade this year then. And if not, well, you don’t want to be a biologist, do you?”“No way in hell!” We laugh. “Taehyung says hi by the way.” I add, smiling at my roommate who is waving his limbs around at me with his trademark box grin on his face.“Tell him I said hello too. And tell him to eat well! And that he can come home with you whenever you’re coming, okay? You know he always has place here, actually, do bring him along next time you’re visiting, I miss my second son—”“Geez, thanks mom, what about your first born?” I tease. I mouth she says hello too to Tae, who nods and then carries on scribbling down into some notebook with that adorable grin on his face.“What about him?” she jokes in a nonchalant voice. “That brat never calls me, have you seen him around? Slap him for me will ya?”I’m laughing wholeheartedly now, thankful that she lifted my mood so easily. “No can do,” I fake a sigh. “He’s too tall and handsome for me. He has these muscles, really you should see them! He would beat me up, surely no one would stand a chance against him.”“Yah!” she laughs. “Stop complimenting yourself you jester!”“But I am too handsome!”I missed joking around with her like this. It’s refreshing to hear her chirpy voice again, just like when I was home. We hang up soon after but my mood is considerably better than it was before. As soon as we end the call though, every single thought about Jimin comes rushing back to me with such force that I can’t ignore it anymore. I just can’t get a hold of my thoughts. What I’m feeling is more than just a simple emotion, it’s a mix of sadness, embarrassment, regret – just to name a few. All these thoughts are swimming around my head and I can’t explain any of them. Am I sad because Jimin looked like he regretted kissing me? Or because he ran away without talking to me about it? What is this regret I myself am feeling? Is it because if I’d never kissed him we’d still be on good terms? Or could it be that I’m just disappointed that it didn’t go further than that?Inside, of course, I know that I’m not that shallow but I also have to admit I’ve been thinking about it. What would it have been like if Jimin would’ve let me kiss him more, go home with him, undress him and map his body with my eyes and my tongue? What would that mean for us? Would we be more than we are now the next morning, or even less than we’ve ever been?It’s such an overwhelming mix of feelings; no one has ever made me question myself like this before and I have no idea how I should deal with it. After I spend the good part of an hour just gazing at the ceiling and listening to Taehyung scribbling down whatever he’s so focused on, I decide I should just wait until Monday to see where I stand with Jimin. It’s not like I can do much right now anyway, besides worrying my lower lip between my teeth and beating myself up over yesterday.I decide to go to the gym just to get my mind off of things for a while. I grab my workout bag and head down two floors where the dorm’s gym is – new, flashy machines and mirrors on every wall, just like it’s expected of a prestigious school like this. I change and head out to warm up, quickly locating Yugyeom at one of the bench press machines assisting for a guy I’ve seen around but don’t know the name of. I head over to say hi and we make small talk about dance class and classes in general – Yugyeom is in dance with me and the other guy, Jackson is apparently a fencer.“I’m gonna go warm up and then stick with you guys, if that’s okay,” I tell them; they nod and go back to having Jackson press a weight I wouldn’t go near in the next year or so. I do my stretches and a twenty-minute jog on the treadmill, hiking the speed up every couple of minutes until I’m at a steady running pace. Yugyeom appears next to me halfway through, a handsome grin on his face.“I’m taking a break. How’s it going?” He asks me while bumping fists with Jackson, who is headed to the changing rooms, seemingly done for the day. Yugyeom turns back to me. “He’s so fucking fine right? He literally fucked me for like, thirty minutes yesterday. Guk, I was in heaven.”So maybe Yugyeom and I had a kind of friends with benefits thing going on last year, but then he got a boyfriend and we stopped. Said boyfriend ended up being an asshole and Yugyeom returned to his slutty ways – we don’t sleep together anymore though, however we remained close friends. Now we’re just so comfortable with each other that we discuss this kind of stuff instead of actually doing it.“That good?” I blow my bangs out of my face.“Ho-ly shit,” is all he says before changing the topic. Ten minutes later Jackson emerges from the changing room, blond hair wet and smelling of shower gel, completely gorgeous even in a baggy designer shirt.“Jeongguk, it was nice meeting you,” We fist bump. He turns to Yugyeom. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”“Yeah, bye,” he answers, obviously checking Jackson out as he walks away. He turns to me with the thirstiest face he can muster up, all suggestive eyes and with his tongue sliding over his front teeth – I can’t help but snort.“Dear God,” I address the ceiling, “Let our kind, humble Yugyeom get some bomb dick today.”“Oh don’t worry, I will,” he cackles.I hike up the speed and wheeze out a laugh. “Such a slut.”“Shut the fuck up, you loved it back in the day.” He exclaims, slapping my arm.“Yeah ‘cause you were always begging for my dick. And I, a thirsty 17 year old, kindly blessed you with it.”“Literally shut your fucking mouth.”I wink at him. “Love you too babe.”